The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (64 page)

He stared, first the goblet landing on the table with a flicker of her trembling fingers, then to her eyes and lips as the words echoed in his mind, and then back to the table. James had no words, did not know what to think nor say at this moment. Fear of her uncle and this strange dark tavern kept his tongue, as did his insecurity of conscience that she knew he should not be drinking and that perhaps God had told her about his vows as of late to remain abstinent from the wine.
Insane, I am going mad, truly
. He spoke to himself as she stared at him.

“Simple tri
ck really, I could teach you.” s
he gestured at the steel goblet once more, and it raised slowly once more, even though his eye
s were completely fixed upon the
intoxicating innocence
behind her eyes
.

“What could you teach me girl,
how to destroy myself
? How to open the wine and let it
consume me
? Or how to spend fourteen more years drunk and romancing visions of my own blade through my chest on the field of battle?” James was angry, the innocence he had stared at was betrayed by his mind as it turned his deviated attentions from the bottle into an enemy from hell.
It seemed that the bottle and this girl were signs from
both
heaven and purgatory waging war for his soul inside the Foating Goblet. He felt the tremors of a hangover
,
though he had not even opened the wine.

“I was speaking of how to make the goblet float. Are you---“

“That’s enough Taira, leave the man be with his wine for a spell, eh’? I could use ye in the kitchen now lass.” Darcy interrupted whatever conversing was taking place, his
concern
was
for the oddity of this foreigner and the needed virginity of his neice for tomorrow morning. He waited, smiling falsely as he cleaned the bar, and stared until she did as
h
er uncle politely ordered.

James looked to the girl, the young and understanding beauty, yet her eye contact was broken by her uncle’s demands from across the dingy room. He had thought to apologize for the venom that laced his words in response to her simple and pure gesture of politeness. He knew that she sensed something, as did he, yet his insecure revolt against any nicety at this struggling moment was impossible to contain within. James Andellis, knight of the realm of Chazzrynn, far from home and honor, reached for the bottle yet unopened before him. A gloved hand with a strong heavy grip pressed on his shoulder, and the other hand with short stubby fingers grabbed the goblet that hovered inches above the table.

“I s’pose ye think this is allright to be doing here and now with all that weig
ht on your pride and heart
. I know what it is to be far from anything resembling home, and to wake up every day without a single soul in your family. I too wish to have fought alongside the king of Chazzrynn or the Lord of S
aint
Erinsburg in a great battle of righteous endeavor and justice to the wicked.” Azenairk squeezed the shoulder of his friend a little harder, set down the goblet of steel and lifted the bottle up in his hand assuming possession of the nemesis of James.

“That be a paying customer, mountain man. I’d prefer if a man were able to drink his fill without a dwarf sneaking—“

“I am his companion and friend, barkeep. And if I take his wine, it is my business! You have yer coins I am presuming, so stay behind that mahogany there or you’ll be lucky if tis’ just my fist that meets yer teeth!” Zen looked to Darcy and the patrons, then to his warhammer, then back to James. “Sir James, it is time to go son.”

“Go where, Zen?” James stood up slowly, looked to the girl who was now peeking from the kitchen, dishes in hand. “To the lost mines, the mythical city to the far west, on a ridiculous hunt to nowhere and nothing? To leave our homes, to abandon great leaders and causes, for what?! For a rumor, a fairy tale, or for the possibility that we survive any of it and have something of any value in the end?
And for whom, Alden, the woman in my head, who?!
”

“By Vundren yes, everything you just said and more my friend, yes.” Azenairk Thalanaxe smiled from under his bald head and trimmed black beard, eyes beaming as he stared up to his taller human companion. “Tis’ surely better than revisiting this bottle here and all the pain that it promises ye’. You vowed to help me, and as your God and mine as witnesses, I hold ye to it here and now.”

“Why? What use am I to some far off quest? I don’t even know who to pray to anymore, who I serve, or what I stand for.”
James looked around at the interested patrons and workers all waiting for a fight between he and the dwarven priest that stood toe to toe with him.

“I have plenty of coin, so does the elf, and if ye wish we can buy ye enough wine to carry ye through to the end of it. I need ye, so does she, we can’t make it there without ye James. If ye stand for anything, stand with me so I don’t be getting killed in the Misathi Mountains without yer blade by my side.” Zen handed the bottle to James, feeling, silently praying, and hoping that the knight would do the right thing and give it back to the barkeep.

Smashhh!!!
James threw the bottle to the floor, his eyes tearing up to match Zen
’
s, the two of them looking at one another with understanding smiles.

“That be enough then fellows! Back against the wall there and keep quiet! I won’t be letting you boys be wreaking my nice establishment, not without all your valuables first anyway.” Darcy aimed his crossbow dead straight at the chest of James, the center of the feathered cross like a
bullseye for his target. Two
husky Agarian men rose from their seats as the doors shut by yet two more. Sneers and holl
ow smiles stretched from the five
men now surrounding Zen and James, led by Darcy Loghmann. “Now, before you mess up anything else here, kindly empty your purses and pouches onto the table there.”

James Andellis looked to his few treasures on his person, not willing to give any of them up. Zen felt the box with the
key, the dust, and the deed to K
akisteele
,
and knew he would not give it
while he still breathed, even if it was just an old tale of folly. Again, the human knight from Chazzrynn looked to his stockier and more pious mountain friend, and the look was met with the same understanding. The men thought of how much battle the Floating Goblet had probably seen in the last fe
w decades, and resigned to give
the operations here a small refresher in southern hospitality. James drew his griffon hilted broadsword at the same moment Zen pulled his warhammer free of the straps that held it.

The crossbow bolt released with a sharp crack, then cracked again as it deflected off of the shield of Azenairk Thalanaxe who put it in front of his friend who had been the target. “By Vundren
,
I think they w
ant a bit of trouble here James!
”

“Let us not disappoint them then my bearded friend!” James smiled next to Zen as the two stepped forward to resolve the issues of the dark and less than friendly tavern in Bailey.

Shinayne I
I:IV

Keervinn Keep, Bail
e
y, Willborne

Shinayne felt
something in the air, an emotion or secret sensati
on in the humid keep of Marcel K
eervinn. Lord of a rural and run down community for certain, yet his name was foul in her
heart and on her open
mind. She blocked out the voices of Capitan Norrice and his men conversing with Saberrak and Gwenneth. She ignored the fresh roasted chicken and potatoes brought in with homemade wine. The only constants on
her thoughts were that
one, J
ames was in spiritual turmoil. Azenairk had sensed it as readily as she and he had gone to help
wherever the knight had wandered
. And t
wo, that something foul stirred in the great hall of Keervinn Keep,
at
this moment
, and her name had been mentioned by whomever it was that gathered there. A cold chill ran up her spine, one that she could not ignore without further investigation. Shinayne T’Sarrin opened her eyes and walked toward Gwenneth and Saberrak amidst the feasting and discussion that she had chosen to remain apart from.

“
I must att
end to something, stay ready
.” s
he whispered softly enough to avoid any eavesdropping but loud enough that the minotaur and the wizard heard their friend clearly as she passed out the door of the guest room and down the hall.

“Where is she going now? We are tired, wet, hungry, and the minute we get settled, everyo
ne leaves
? Am I missing something here, wizard?” Saberrak huffed as he ate the leg of chicken from the second plate of food he waged war upon. He looked to his axe, sharpened and ready, then to Gwenne who was now comfortably reading the tome that Ansharr had given her by the green light of the staff propped against her bed. “Be ready? When am I
not ready
? Hrmphh!”

“I am sure Shinayne has secure reasoning to do what she is doing, her senses are far beyond your understanding horned one, she is a highborne elf…and a woman.
James and Zen need God time, surely, and you need to chew softer so that I may further understand the infrastructure
s of the old Landruthem Dracothelian in peace.” y
oung Lazlette did not look up from her tome, the language of old draconic tongue and verse was far too interesting.

“The old what?”

“The language and dialects of the northern and western dragons, Saberrak. It is quite difficult, so please keep your heavy eating and grumbling conversations outside the door if you would. Thank you.” Gwenne went back to the book after casting a disapproving glance at the minotaur
’
s line of questions.

Saberrak huffed again, chewed louder and left his mouth open on purpose as he went. He took a taste of the wine, gargled it for several moments until he was sure Gwenne was leaving for the other room. As she walked out, slamming the door behind her, Saberrak smiled and returned to his meal.
“
Stay ready,
she says. I am always ready, best they know that by now.”

LCMVXI
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The elven noble crept through shadow and alleyways, under the fogs, and moved with the dark gray of heavy night in Bail
e
y. Not a soul, no movement from behind her or to any peripheral, the streets of this little town were dead with activity. Shinayne arrived behind the keep that stretched out like a
snake, misshapen, reconstructed, with additions that allowed stone of different sizes and color. The miniature pines and oppressing banyan trees gave her ease of cover to the newer rear of Keervinn Keep, and there she saw the faint tease of torchlight from the third floor high
. Two guards also, human
, moving like slow bumbling statues that did not belong in the night. The noble swordswoman crept up the sidestairs, hopped the old rusted garden gate, swiftly clung to the shadows through the second floor balcony that was covered in hanging moss,
and walked right behind the two men
in heavy armor
.

She had no idea of the layout or design of this old crumbling stone keep, nor had she the intention of discovering it. Shinayne merely followed her intuitions, her hearing, her elven eyesight, and that sense inside that told her there were things allying against her this night up above. Curiosity with a strong defensive anger toward deception riddled her veins and drove her forward alone in the dark
of the molding moss covered castle
.
Finding the spiraling stairs from the second to the third floor at the end of the blackened hall, the elven woman cautiously stepped as a cat on the prowl upwards, avoiding every loos
e rock. Her aqua
eyes spotted a wire across from a chandelier through the guardrail and across the top step of the stairs, it was shining with cleanliness.
Obviously that is rather new or checked often, guess they do not care for visitors or spies here
, Shinayne thought to herself.

The highborne elf stretched her leg high over the wire, hands now on the hilts of her enchanted blades, Carice
and
Elicras. Back against the stone
wall and gold
en hair under the torchlight,
keeping form to the shadows it produced, Shinayne was now a few feet from the cracked door that held the men her sense
s had warned her about
.
She looked back down the stairs, past the tripwire, gauging how many of her steps it would take to escape should anyone appear from the hallway entrances before her.
Eight steps down, easy enough
, she surmised in silence.
Or, a quick roll to the linen closet across the hall
. Shinayne took three light, small steps forward, quietly turning the old iron round knob on the door that concealed the smell of linen, wool, and a slight must. Reaffirming her sense of delicate and faint smells, the do
or opened just wide enough before
the ominous creak
that
was sure to sound
, and revealed a linen closet large enough for her to stand inside.
Just in case,
she whispered to herself.