Exiles From The Sacred Land (Book 2) (18 page)

“I would like that,” Dorenn said.

“We should let him get some rest now, Morgoran,” Sildariel said.

“Aye, you are safe here in these quarters the queen has prepared for you. Rest up and do not venture out.”

“I won’t,” Dorenn reassured him.

Morgoran and Sildariel exited the small room, and as the door closed behind them, he could see the guards posted. The back of his head throbbed a little, and he reached up to rub it. It was bandaged.
I must have hit the floor pretty hard
, he thought. He closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep when the door opened. He expected Tatrice to walk in, but instead it was Seandara. Her hair was down now around her shoulders. She glowed with an ethereal radiance. The informal green dress she wore hugged her feminine form. Dorenn tried to sit up in her presence.

“No, no, don’t move.” She put her hands flat out in a motion for him to lie still. “You have hit your head against the hard wooden floors.”

“Princess, I am sorry for before. I was not myself.”

“Obviously not. I am aware.”

“What are you here for? Does Morgoran and your mother know you are here?”

“As I said, you hit your head. I am here to keep an eye on you. People who hit their heads cannot be left alone.”

“Oh, and your mother sent
you
to watch over me?”

Seandara blushed. “Not exactly. She sent my cousin Jindara. I asked her if I could take her place for a little while.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to talk with you in private. I have been dreaming of you for so long, and here you are now in person.”

“I know what you mean. It’s like I have known you all my life.”

“We have.” She looked down with nervous apprehension. “I mean, in a way we have.” She sat down on the edge of his bed.

“We can at least talk about the dreams now and figure out what we must do.”

She nodded.

“I have always wondered if what I dreamed about would come true.”

“Me too. I mean, I have wondered too.”

“When I was holding your hand and you were slipping from my grasp, I—”

Seandara lunged forward and pressed her lips hard against his. White light blinded him and his head started throbbing again. He felt a tremor like the shock he sometimes got in the winter when he pulled his woolen blankets apart. Seandara slowly retracted from him, her eyes still closed. After a moment, she opened them. “It was just like the dream.”

“What? That was
your
dream?” Dorenn asked.

She blushed. “It wasn’t yours too?”

“No, I think I like yours better though.”

“Oh, no!” She stood immediately up from his bed. “Oh, no, I shouldn’t have come.”

“No, wait. It was the knock on my head. Yes, now I remember. I did dream about a kiss,” he lied. “Come back. I will tell you the rest of my dream.”

Seandara eyed him suspiciously. “Are you certain?”

“Aye, come back.”

Seandara sat back on the edge of his bed. “Tell me more.”

“My dream was also of you falling out of the trees and Dramyds or some other creatures pulling you down through the branches. You slipped from my fingers, and I couldn’t save you.”

“What? How dreadful.”

“You didn’t dream about that too?”

“No, nothing like that. My dream was about us in harmony.” She swallowed hard. “We get married in my dream.”

“Hmm, really.”

“Wait a moment,” Sildariel stood up again, “you never dreamed of a kiss. You are tricking me.”

“We kissed before you fell. Come on, sit back down.” He patted the edge of the bed.

She sat back down and put her hand on his forehead.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Are you still ill?”

“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I am not some silly girl.”

“No, of course not.” He reached up and pulled her head down to kiss her. It was the only way he could think of to abate her suspicion. White light flashed and the same shock tingled through his body. About halfway through the kiss, he realized that he was not feeling guilty for kissing Seandara. “I know what you mean,” he said as soon as the kiss ended.

She gazed into his eyes. “What?”

“It does feel like I have known you all my life.”

Chapter 11: Winterhaven

Bren helped Tatrice off her horse, and the stableman took the white mare away. Tatrice dusted herself off and surveyed her surroundings. Busy people, some of them elves, rushed about, making preparations for the festival of Winterhaven. The festival was also celebrated in Brookhaven, so some of the decorations Tatrice recognized, but these villagers took them much more seriously. Garlands and autumn flowers were everywhere. Pumpkins, gourds, nuts, and autumn berries adorned every shop and booth, along with various other foods. “They certainly take Winterhaven seriously here, don’t they?” Tatrice observed.

Shadesilver nodded. “The people of Ormond’s Arch claim to have invented the holiday. They prepare for the Winterhaven celebration as soon as the last harvest day ends in late autumn before the chill of winter. The holiday signifies a bountiful harvest, which insures the safety or haven of the people through winter. If the harvest is slim, the celebrations change into the form of prayers for an abundance of game or fish.”

“Is it true? Did they invent the holiday?” Tatrice asked.

“No one knows for sure. Winterhaven is celebrated on a monumental scale here due to the fact that the village is incredibly prosperous, being nestled between the great forest, which provides abundant game, and the ocean, where fishermen thrive. The surrounding farmland is also rich and vibrant due to the abundant rains and the rich soil that the people of the village take great care of with the help of their closest neighbors, the Sylvan Elves of Endil. Let’s just say that the peoples of Ormond’s Arch never go without.

Tatrice turned her attention to Bren. “Look at this place, Bren. It is wonderful here, isn’t it?”

Bren raised his eyebrows. “Aye, it is. It is nice to see a place where no one goes hungry.”

“We should go to one of the inns. The closer we get to the holiday, the more expensive and difficult it will be to find accommodations here. We should also reserve rooms for the others,” Shadesilver pointed out.

“That sounds expensive,” Tatrice said.

Shadesilver smiled. “I think you are forgetting who and what I am, First of Amadalea.”

Tatrice blushed. “I thought that was just a myth. You mean your kind
does
hoard treasure?”

“Like the pirates of the seas!” she joked as she pointed to a sign swinging over the inn called The Pirate’s Stash.

Gondrial’s vision began to blur, and the pain in his gut throbbed with unbearable spasms of pain. Through trial and error, he managed to wiggle out from under the corpse of the thief. He could vaguely hear people talking in the distance as they passed the open alleyway, oblivious to his plight, but he was too weak to call out to them. He did try to bang his dagger against the stone wall of the alley to alert anyone to his presence, but again, he was too weak, and what little sound he produced faded into the background with the rest of the noises of Seabrey.

“Don’t move around so much,” a familiar voice rang in Gondrial’s ears. He was not sure if it was real or if he was imagining it through the pain.

He managed a feeble, gasping breath. “Who’s there?”

“I can heal you enough to get you back, and then once you are in your bed, I can heal you completely. I still remember the old magic.”

“I know your voice,” Gondrial said.

“Aye, of course. Stop trying to speak. I will take good care of you.”

Gondrial blinked through the pain as the mysterious helper began to tug at his clothes, trying to get a look at his benefactor. After a moment, he could make out the small hands and the sharp features of a small-statured person.

“A Kylerie?”

“The only one you know, Gondrial.”

“Kyrie? Kyrie, is that you? How?”

“Sssh! I told you not to speak. You are so very weak, and I will not be able to carry you to safety. I must heal the wound with fire and magic.”

“Fire!” Gondrial said, alarmed, followed by a coughing fit.

“Aye, I have to burn the wound closed at some point.” Kyrie frowned. “You know what? I think it might be better if you sleep.” He promptly struck Gondrial on the head with the hilt of his dagger.

“Stop it, you fool,” Gondrial gasped. “If you can’t carry me awake, you can’t carry me asleep either.”

“Good point.” Kyrie rummaged through his pack and brought out a bit of leather strap and some clear liquid. “Here, bite down on this leather strap.” He poured some of the clear liquid onto his dagger blade while Gondrial bit down on the leather. Kyrie said some incantation over the blade.

“Ack, this leather tastes like you have been—” He bit down before he could finish his thought because Kyrie had used the dagger on his wound. The searing pain was almost unbearable. Gondrial felt the brief breeze-like feeling that essence was being manipulated, and Kyrie’s dagger blade burst into a hot, blue flame, which he promptly held to Gondrial’s wound. Gondrial felt searing pain followed by the sickly smell of burning flesh.

“There we go; that should hold it until I have time to heal it permanently.”

Kyrie held up the clear liquid. “Here, drink some of this.” Gondrial shied away. “It’s just Kylerie fire water.”

“What the heck is Kylerie fire water? It sounds painful!”

“Not as painful as a knife wound.” Kyrie sighed. “Don’t worry, it’s intoxicating spirits made from fermented fruits. Drink!”

Gondrial took a sip, and the liquid burned his throat. He coughed at first but managed to take a second sip. “Good gods, that
was
painful, and it tastes nothing like fruit!”

Kyrie put away the spirits. “All right, let’s see about getting you to Shey and the others.”

Gondrial looked at the Kylerie elf with trepidation. He was barely over three feet tall. “Oh, and how are you going to do that?”

“What, get you to the inn? I assume you are staying at an inn, right?”

“Aye, we are.”

“Well, I do have one way to get you there quickly, though I don’t think you will like it much, and the Kylerie do not travel by this method anymore because it is detectable by Enforcers.”

“Please tell me you are not talking about bending!”

“Aye, I just have to bend a space between us and the inn, and we are there in two steps, easy.”

“Bending also takes a lot of essence and will be a beacon to every Enforcer in the city. Also, it works fine for someone your size, but it could actually kill me even if I wasn’t wounded!”

“Aye, I told you that you wouldn’t like it. It is something I can do exceedingly well. I am sure you will be fine.” He looked around nervously. “One more issue—the healing I performed earlier, it is also a beacon, as you put it, for Enforcers. I am sure we will have them upon us shortly.” He glanced at the body of the thief nearby. “And you would have to explain him.”

Gondrial thought he heard footsteps and shouting nearby. He wasn’t sure if it was Enforcers, but he couldn’t take the chance. “All right, Kyrie, we bend.” He held up his finger before Kyrie could start drawing essence. “But as soon as we arrive at the inn, we have to figure out how to hide or defend ourselves.”

“I am familiar with the inns of this city. I can bend us right into the hallway with your room. Just give me the inn name and the floor.”