The Faerion (2 page)

"I have no interest in politics Prince Estes," said Wynne. "I work for King Yeates, I am not a follower nor do I consider myself a Calendian."

"If we were at war our enemies would see you the same as my father or myself and try to kill you."

"Then I am glad we are not at war. There are other powers in the world that care little for the wars of Men."

"Is that a veiled reference to the book?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her.

"Do not speak of it," she said quietly. "No one is to know of it. I didn't know you knew of it."

"I understand. My father wants its power. I cannot claim to understand what it can do but I know you are to protect it if not use the spells for my father's benefit. I picked up that much; I am not stupid no matter what you think."

"I stand corrected. But do not be unwary and trust no one else on this subject. Do not speak of it again. I share King Yeates' concern that if its presence is revealed there are many who will risk much to obtain it."

"Do you have it with you?"

"I cannot tell you if I do or not. I will speak no more on the subject."

"Very well. Be wary. Rilar's men will be watching you; they are aware of his comments about you. Try not to walk about alone. You are in danger here."

"Why, Prince Estes, I shall heed your thoughtful words. You surprise me at times. There might be hope for you yet."

"I am never without hope," said Estes.

The horses were penned in a corral in the center of the courtyard. After seeing that her mount was well tended, Wynne asked for directions to the highest point in the castle-the tower. She left the company without a word.

After the soldiers rested, the king put them under Rilar's command. The Lord of Stormridge deployed them about the castle. There were two towers at Stormridge; the taller one was Rilar's residence and the shorter one for the watch. Wynne headed directly for the smaller tower to gain a view of the countryside.

Wynne stood at the window its shudders thrown back and the cooling air of the evening crept over the sill. Her eyes sought out the forest its green fingers reaching toward her. She was in a stone tower but it was better than the large city of Nantitet where she could only see the shapes of trees beyond the city walls. She felt she could reach and touch the trees nearest Stormridge's walls. The wind pushed the odor of Stormridge south and the tower was above the gutters. Here, she smelled the freshness of the trees and it lightened her spirit.

She watched a rider approach from the north. The horse was a slender gray beauty seemingly gliding over the ground. The gates opened and Lord Rilar met the rider. The slender figure dismounted and spoke to Rilar. Wynne was too far away to hear the words, but the body language revealed Rilar's anger. King Yeates joined them and raised his voice. The rider shook his head and pushed his way past them. Wynne grinned; she knew him now.

She dashed down the stairs from the tower to the main hall. The rider looked up at her and smiled. The fine pale features framed by the long dark hair were as she remembered. The tips of his pointed ears peeked out through his hair. He wore a silver band on his brow and his green eyes flashed with joy at seeing her.

"Navir!"

"Greetings, Wynne. It has been several years. You are looking quite well."

"Thank you, Navir." She hugged him and he stiffly returned the affection.

"You were rude to my father," snapped Estes coming up behind them. Navir turned as if he had expected Estes' presence.

"Why do you speak with a hard tone Prince of Nantitet?" asked Navir. "Do you threaten me?"

Estes had his hand on his sword. Navir opened and closed his hands. Wynne stepped between them.

"Estes, please." Wynne looked deeply into his eyes. "Do not let your anger control you. Daerlan are different than us. Navir's concerns are not ours and his people have lived on Anavar longer than ours. We cannot put our values on him."

"It doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, indeed," said Navir. "Keep your beliefs and prejudices. They make you who you are."

"What do you mean?" Estes stepped forward with his hand on his sword hilt.

Wynne stepped between them. "How did you know to come to Stormridge?" she asked Navir.

"The wind changed."

"What?" said Estes. "The wind changed and you came here. I cannot believe that. The wind changes all the time."

"And to you it means nothing." Navir shook his head. "I expected no less. You are human and ill-suited to understand the world around you. Nature is a living thing and each part of it communicates with whoever can listen. The woods in the south sent word of danger pouring northward and I heard its voice, believing that I am needed here."

"I am glad you are here," said Wynne. "I feel the changes in the air, but cannot read them. I fear danger is coming but in what form I do not know. You are needed here. Despite what Lord Rilar thinks. I care little for him myself."

"I know. I heard his lies. He did not want me to speak to you."

"He is one of my father's truest vassals." Estes glared at Navir.

"Rilar does not trust your father nor like him and your father feels the same way towards Rilar," said Wynne. "They need each other and so they coexist. Who is it that knows little about politics?"

"Prince Estes. Your presence is not needed nor wanted here." Navir moved toward the prince who backed away and then walked away, muttering.

"That may cause him to harden against you," said Wynne.

"I hardly care. He is much like his father and listens to few. The glory times for Nantitet are long in the past. Yeates even banished the one man in Nantitet I trust."

"Do you mean Tagera? He spoke wisely I thought but I had little direct dealing with him."

"Yes. I have known him for years and learned to trust his judgment. He is the rare man whose eyes see clearly."

"Tagera's crime was speaking against Baron Treteste," said Wynne. "He told Yeates of the deceitful nature of Treteste but Yeates would not hear it. He needed the Baron's support too much to retain his crown and dared nothing that would jeopardize his tenuous hold on his crown."

"I hope Yeates does not live to regret that choice."

"Treteste is a difficult man, but he always proved loyal."

"Loyal as far as your experience tells you. Treteste is a long thinker and is not impatient. One thing about being a Daerlan; our plans move slowly as time. Careful work but thorough work and always successful. I can recognize patterns of planning and this Baron is no fool."

"You think Treteste has planned long against King Yeates?"

"That is what Tagera confirmed to me and I believe him. Tagera has long been a man of integrity and his heart is true. Yeates is not a bad man, just overmatched for his position. He should never have taken the throne."

"But he does have de Arayr blood."

"A trickle of blood and gains no strength from it. Royal blood does not guarantee a wise ruler. My people know that all too well. There are Arayr descendants with better claims to the throne."

"But no one came forward."

"True. I cannot guess the reasons that Men do things or even Zidar for that matter and it is the Zidar blood of the de Arayr heirs that carries the most weight."

"Can you tell if a person is Zidar or human?"

"Sometimes, but the Zidar must be full blood somewhere in their bloodline. Almost all the pureblood Zidar have died out or interbred with Men. The Zidar were a small isolated tribe of Men to begin with - they were the priests of Cothos."

"Did you know Mauran de Arayr?"

"What a question Wynne. How old do you think I am?"

"You have told me Daerlan live hundreds or thousands of years. But I wasn't asking you if you knew Mauran in the distant past. There are stories that he still walks Landermass to this day."

"I cannot answer your question. There are many things you cannot know."

"Cannot? Why not?"

"It is not permitted and I did not make the rules."

"Who did?"

"I cannot say. Perhaps one day."

"That sounds mysterious and probably will prompt me to dream up things far more wild than what the truth is."

"Perhaps. Come tell me of life in Nantitet."

"Exciting but suffocating. Travelling outside the city brought me to life again."

"Glad to hear it."

"I hadn't realized how much I need to walk under the branches of the trees."

"Ah, it is important I think."

"Yes it is. Also I thought the hawks flying over us were trying to talk to me."

"Hawks? What were they saying?"

"Warning me of something. I like talking with you. You didn't question my sanity about hearing birds talk. You just accepted it."

"Perhaps because we Daerlan talk to many animals. It does not seem outlandish."

They talked long into the night.

Wynne awoke the next morning and found Navir in the kitchen eating warm muffins.

"Good morning Navir. Found your favorite place in the household?"

"Ah, yes. Fresh muffins just sing to me."

"Something's been singing to me," said Wynne. "I have a deep foreboding today."

"The threat is near?"

"I believe so. I wish I could decipher it, it's frustrating." She held up her hand and it began to shake. She looked at Navir who pursed his lips.

"I do not know how to guide you with this. Come have a muffin."

Wynne smiled and picked up one of the warm muffins and began to eat. When they were finished they left the kitchen with the plan to explore the castle.

Shouting rose up in the corridors and they rushed outside. Soldiers ran everywhere as they moved into position on the parapet.

"What's happening?" cried Wynne.

"We are under attack!" replied a soldier.

"Whose colors?" asked Navir.

"Baron Treteste."

Wynne looked at Navir. He opened his hands helplessly. Looked across the fields to the forest where dozens of shapes moved among the trees. A company of foot soldiers with ladders approached from the south. Archers launched arrows to rain down on the battlements to allow the soldiers to reach the walls. Among the mounted knights Baron Treteste sat on his horse gesturing to the men around him. Runners went to each company of soldiers delivering Treteste's orders. Rilar's archers tried to hit the runners but concentrated their arrows on the approaching soldiers.

"Why do those men stay in the trees?" asked Wynne. "Most of the soldiers are moving forward."

"They are engaged in some endeavor. It's hard to see past the shadows of the branches but they are assembling something. Might be siege weapons of some kind."

"Have you been in a siege before?" asked Wynne.

"Yes I have," said Navir. "Do not worry we will escape. We will leave Yeates and Treteste to their own devices."

"Treteste will win. Yeates doesn't stand a chance without my help."

"Wynne, are you prepared to take lives? You will have to kill soldiers to defeat Treteste."

"No, I don't want that."

"Let's see how well Rilar defends his home. Treteste is slippery, I expect he has spies and knows all of Rilar's escape routes. We must be watchful and choose our time well. In the meanwhile I will setup a hospital in the main hall. I expect to be busy in short order."

The edge of the arrow creased his shoulder, pulling the skin until it could no longer withstand the tension and ripped diagonally into his deltoid, spilling blood on his clean white tunic. Estes stood in shock for a moment, until the sharp pain began to well up, and he dropped his sword.

"Estes!" cried his father, King Yeates. "Get back from the parapet! Are you all right?" The king ran to him, sword in hand. The prince held up his hand. Estes straightened up to greet his father. The clatter of swords rose around them. Soldiers ran to their positions along the walls. Archers aimed and fired with direction, a frantic waste of weapons, killing some attackers but ineffective against the attack. Minutes passed before the captain could gain their attention to focus on crucial areas of the invading army. Arrows rattled off armor and ladders reached for the battlements. The voice of Lord Rilar rallied his men. He commanded the king's men too and they responded to his sharp voice.

"A flesh wound, no more," Estes spoke crisply although his face paled. A healer examined the arm. The soldier next to him died with an arrow in the eye. Estes looked at the body of Tobrar, a soldier he knew, leaning against him and disfigured by the arrow. Tobrar shuddered before he died and Estes held him as he died.

"The Prince is correct, sire," said Halar. "It will heal cleanly, but it will need the attentions of Navir to staunch the flow of blood. Prince Estes should not continue fighting until that is done lest he bleeds out."

Estes frowned. The defenders pushed two ladders from the edge. They fell heavily upon their comrades below driving them into the hard ground. Curses rose over the broken ladders. Arrows rained on the parapets from Baron Treteste's army surrounding the castle.

"Can you fight?" asked King Yeates. He began to feel a twinge of desperation creep into his bones. He detested sieges. He used to wake up in the darkness of night escaping the nightmare of dying in a siege. Now, it tightened around him. It proved difficult to concentrate.

"Yes, of course. I just need to wrap it to stop the blood. I shall have Navir do it, won't be long. Save some of the Baron's men for me to kill." He grinned as he walked away. An arrow rattled on the stones next to him and he found a brisker pace off the wall.

The king shook his head and turned away, watching the preparations of the army surrounding his castle, cursing under his breath. He had ridden from his capital, Nantitet, to the small castle at Stormridge, two and a half days upriver. He had given his people perhaps two days of notice to prepare for the trip. How could an army of two hundred men be waiting for him? With the thirty soldiers that traveled with him and Rilar's soldiers, a hundred knights and soldiers defended the castle, but the odds were not in his favor.

His scouts and spies had been devoid of news and he believed he could always rely on his most trusted vassal, Baron Treteste, despite the accusations of Tagera. Tagera himself was once a trusted noble until he spoke ill of Treteste. So why was Treteste's army lurking just out of bowshot? He could see Treteste's colors under the trees. He saw the colors of Kirkes, Treteste's vassal, and the greatest knight that ever lived, unbeatable in the field. He wished Kirkes would betray the Baron but the knight was a man of honor. Kirkes' honor made him a great ally and if he broke vows then he would not be the warrior the king desired and feared. Kirkes called his men to him. He unsheathed his huge sword twirling it in the sunlight. His men unleashed a great yell, joined in by others, their ranks swelling and the noise rolling toward the castle. Yeates cursed again.