“Oh, no. I am not doing that!” Claire pointed back at the cliff. She thought they were just kidding last night. “Can’t we just find another way, like a road or a path? Steps even?”
The valley below looked much more real in the bright morning light. And deeper. And wider.
Farron unraveled a long rope, the end pooling at his feet.
Silently, she cursed her decision to sleep on a boulder. Bruises were already forming on her back and she was not looking forward to adding more.
“You are not afraid of heights, are you, my lady?” Aeron asked with a thinly veiled look of amusement.
“I don’t know. I’ve never dangled over the side of a cliff before.” She took a step toward the edge and peered down. It was a steep drop, leveling out after twenty feet or so. The valley made it seem deeper than it was.
“It’s the fastest way down. We’ll have a straight shot to Lendon down the valley. We’d have to back track in order to reach the pass,” Farron said, straight to the point. He tied one end of the rope around a tree and yanked on it to check for any weaknesses, then gathered the loose end up and threw it over the edge. “Besides, it’s not that far down.”
Claire’s mouth gaped open. She couldn’t believe they were making her do this. The last seconds of her life started to count down.
“Do not worry. You will be fine.” Aeron put his hands on her shoulders. “I hope.”
She watched as Farron leaned back over the edge, rope in hand. Then he rappelled swiftly down the face of the cliff, making the task look easy.
A cold sweat broke out over her skin.
“Do I have to do it like that?” She turned to Aeron with a pleading look on her face.
“Well, maybe not as showy, but you get the basic idea, right?” He led her to the edge and put the rope in her hands. “Just hold on for dear life and let your feet walk you down.”
He had to be kidding. She sighed. That was advice from Aeron. She gripped the rope in her hands so hard it threatened to become a part of her and peered over the edge. Farron stood at the bottom and motioned for her to come down.
“I think I’ll just take the pass and meet you two in Lendon.”
Aeron grabbed her by the shoulders. “You can do this. I know you can. Think of it as training. It will build strength and courage.” He talked like a father trying to convince a child.
“Fine.” Claire took a deep breath. “I better get to sleep in a nice soft bed after this.”
Aeron helped her down over the ledge. Claire’s feet struggled to find a foothold on the steep rock wall.
“Lean back a little, push with your feet.”
She followed his instructions and her feet felt a little more solid against the steep wall. Her descent was slow and torturous as she began to slide down the rope. She refused to look behind her. Instead, she kept her focus forward, concentrating on each step she took and the rough rope in her hands. Just one foot after the other—
“Just a little bit further.”
Farron’s voice broke her concentration. Immediately, she froze and started to panic. She looked behind her and her vision spun; the valley below seemed to swallow her up. Farron stood a couple feet below her and motioned for her to hurry up with his hands.
“I can’t.” She closed her eyes for a second to stop the spinning.
“Just let go.”
“What?” Her voice was shrill. “You’re insane!”
“I’ll catch you.”
“No!” She clamped her eyes shut and began her descent again. She took slow, careful steps, until her foot slipped on a loose rock and sent her dangling from the rope.
“Just let go!”
This time she did, putting her trust in the elf. She fell, crashing into Farron and onto the ground.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He got up, dusted himself off and offered his hand.
She took it and the elf pulled her up with ease. “Well, at least I know I’m afraid of heights now.” She looked up to the top of the now looming cliff. Aeron had begun his descent and finished in a quarter of her time. “Show off,” she murmured.
The rest of the trek into the valley was easy. The gentle slope proved to be a much more pleasant journey. Claire stepped carefully among the boulders that jutted out of the side of the mountain. The only vegetation consisted of shrubs and grass, with the occasional small twisted tree.
Claire caught up to Aeron. Farron walked ahead as usual, although the distance seemed less, she noted.
“So tell me,” she began, “what exactly do the elves think I can do for them? I mean, why the showy send off?”
He seemed startled by her sudden question. “Well…” he paused and took a deep breath. “You see—”
“I already know about the mark,” she said.
“You told her?” he asked the elf walking ahead of them.
Farron shrugged. “It’s better if she knows. Besides, it’s easier to keep a secret if you actually know the secret to be kept.”
Aeron sighed and mumbled a few words under his breath in his native tongue as he ran his hands through his hair. “The King will have my head for sure. Never follows orders…” he muttered more to himself than her. “Well, now that you know, are you going to abandon the mission? The King wants to use you to help the elves.”
“I don’t think that it will be in my best interest, or humanity’s,” she said with a slight grin.
His face fell. “You told her that too?”
Farron just shrugged again. “It’s a part of history, she’d find out sooner or later.”
Aeron’s shoulders slumped, distress clear on his face.
Claire smiled. How dramatic. “It’s alright, I don’t hate you. It’s not like you were there, you can’t control the past any more than I can. I’m just upset that you left that part out.”
Aeron lightened up a bit. “Really?”
“Yeah. Besides, I really don’t have anywhere else to go at the moment. I’m quite curious about this thing myself.” She held up her bandaged arm.
Aeron smiled and looked ahead into the distance. “They think that you can save them. They have been huddled in that forest for years, and then all of a sudden you showed up. The girl with the magic mark.” He glanced down at her. “Even though you were just escaping from your town, they look at it as destiny, like you were sent to us for a reason. That is the way we think. Our belief. Most of us anyway. Eaven has fe á reanno. Everything happens for a reason. Magic disappeared as a punishment to us. But now we have repented enough. Have hidden away from the world enough. It is time to return to the world. That is why they came to see you off.”
“But why do you need me to return to the world? Why not just do it?” She had a feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth again.
“Because you are our hope. Whether you were sent to us for a reason or not, you are the first spark of life we have had in years, decades even. Already there has been talk of change. If magic has chosen a human, then they cannot be that bad, can they? You have caused quite the stirring, mon lainí.” He glanced at her. “There are those that wish to take back what is ours, and then there are others that believe we can reason peacefully. But all are waiting for your return. Our little yaederrí.”
The weight of his words sat heavily on her shoulders. She didn’t like the idea of the elves placing so much responsibility and hope in her. She was just a girl from a small town who knew nothing of the world until a few days ago. “It’s foolish to put all your hopes in me. We don’t even know what this is yet. What can I do that you two can’t? I can’t fight, I’m not worldly, and I’m not very brave.”
A hint of sadness touched his face. “We shall see.” He stretched his arms out in a flourish. “Meanwhile, just relax and take in the sights. Let me be your guide!”
Claire sighed. Honestly, Aeron’s emotional ups and downs were very tiring. “By the way, where’s the stick you were carving?”
Aeron took a deep breath and crossed his arm
s. “That thing just was not suitable for you, my lady.”
“Meaning he overestimated his carving abilities,” Farron chimed in.
Claire smiled and looked at Aeron. He had an annoyed look on his face.
“Yes, well, we cannot be good at everything now, can we?” he said and turned to Claire, “I will search the markets endlessly for a suitable sword for you, my lady.” He bowed to her as they walked.
“Please do, kind sir.” She bowed back, giving in to his flamboyant behavior. “And what about our disguise?”
“I was so distressed over the ruined sword I completely forgot.” He sighed rather theatrically.
“Also meaning that he drank too much and passed out in front of the fire.”
Claire looked up at Aeron surprised.
“Well, you cannot deny an elf his simple pleasures now, can we?”
Claire laughed. She was starting to wonder how he’d managed climb up the ranks. Scenarios raced through her mind. Maybe he had some dirt on someone high up, or maybe he had had an affair. She studied the tall blonde elf. There had to be something he was hiding.
“If you stare at me any longer you will make me blush.” He grinned from ear to ear.
She snapped back to the present and blushed herself. They had reached the bottom of the valley and now trekked through the tall grass that covered the fields. Lendon’s stone walls loomed in the distance.
“How about traveling musicians?” She brought the subject up again. Musicians would often come to play in Mother’s tavern. The atmosphere became lively, full of people singing and dancing, forgetting about their troubles for a night.
“I like it!” Aeron brightened.
“Can either of you sing or play instruments?” Farron slowed his pace and waited for them.
“No,” she said. She didn’t have a musical bone in her body. The idea just seemed fun. “Can you?”
“No.”
“So there is something you are not good at!” Aeron seemed a little too excited at the revelation.
Farron ignored his outburst. “We need something a little more plausible.”
“How about I am a prince, traveling with my servant and mistress?” Aeron wriggled his eyebrows at Claire.
She rolled her eyes.
“I said plausible, not idiotic.” Farron crossed his arms.
“Well then, what is your idea, my liege?”
“Diplomats traveling with their human attendant.”
“Like that is believable!” Aeron started to laugh. “You, a diplomat!”
“Why not?”
“You are likely to cause more wars than stop them.”
“Wait a minute!” Claire interrupted their little dispute. She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Why am I always the servant?”
The two elves looked back at her in unison.
“I will be Lady Claire DuBonte from the north, traveling with her two Elvin servants.” She held her chin high and motioned in the air with her hand before laying it lightly on her chest.
“So now we are the servants?” Aeron asked. “There is only one type of servant I would be.”
“Guards then,” she corrected, quickly. “The best that money could buy.”
Farron nodded. “It’s fairly believable.”
“Fine, then it is settled.” Aeron brightened again. He seemed to like the prospect of a double life. “I will protect my lady with all my might and wisdom.” He offered her his arm and she took it.
“Now I just need to figure out how to act like a lady.”
“That is easy,” Aeron said, “just hold your head up high and act like you are better than everyone else.”
“You have those too, huh?” All too well, she knew how most of Stockton viewed her and her mother, but however much she despised those kinds of people, she always dreamed of being one. Their lavish dresses and parties, to be waited on and be someone important; all of it just seemed so far out of reach. This charade may be the closest she could get to that dream.
The dirt road that led into Lendon stretched far into the distance to wind its way up through a pass, a chip in the impenetrable vastness of the mountains. A few wagons pulled by oxen made their way slowly toward the town; most likely farmers or traders coming to sell their wares.
Claire stepped onto the path and brushed the hitchhikers off her pants. She looked up in amazement at the great stone walls, weathered gray with age. Huge, thick oaken doors swung inward to reveal a lively market just inside.
She gripped Aeron’s arm tightly as they approached the immense gate. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, nervous and excited all at once. Aeron patted her hand in a reassuring gesture.
Guards stood at the gate, one on each side, dressed head to foot in gleaming metal plate armor. Their interest piqued as the trio entered, but the two elves kept walking, ignoring their stares, and the guards remained in their positions. Claire breathed a sigh of relief, she thought for sure they’d be stopped.
The market bustled with activity. Crowds surrounded brightly colored booths as the owners shouted out their wares for sale. A few people stopped to stare at the elves, trying to hide their whispers and pointed fingers, but Aeron stood tall with an amused expression, looking like he enjoyed all of the extra attention.
Claire gazed up at the two-storied buildings, wood and brick, not too different than the ones in her hometown. Plain and simple, just like the people. The women wore dresses in muted colors, the men dressed in pants and shirts of the same nature. She was a little underwhelmed— she had hoped for something a little more— exotic. She glanced down the street, and that’s when she spotted it in the distance, just the exotic fare she was hoping for. A great palace stood atop a hill, gleaming bright like fresh white linens in the sun. A huge domed roof sprouted up in the middle of the long flat building. Tall spires stood at each end, topped with roofs that curved to a point. It was magnificent, but seemed a little out of place in the surrounding town.
“Ladies do not gawk,” Aeron murmured to her.
“Oh, sorry,” she whispered. She had almost forgotten her new identity. She put on an air of importance that she had seen so many ladies do before.
Aeron chuckled at her attempt.
They wound their way through the throngs of people further down the main road. Farron stopped in a little area between shop stalls.
“I’ll go find a room for the night.” He scanned the street. “You can start asking around about survivors and see the sights. Just try not to raise too much suspicion.” He looked at Aeron.
“Yes, my lord.” Aeron bowed to the other elf.
Farron disappeared without another word.
“Wait, how are we supposed to find him?” She’d already lost the elf in the mass, which she’d assumed would be next to impossible to do.
“Just follow the trail of crying women.” Aeron offered his arm once again. “Shall we?”
They strolled along the market and stopped at a few booths to examine their wares and admire jewelry and trinkets she could never afford. Aeron quietly obliged as she looked, soaking up all of the extra attention he was drawing. She knew she should ask about the refugees, but she didn’t know where to start. Each stop she made was a procrastination. She didn’t see any familiar faces, no signs of displaced people. Everyone just bustled about with their everyday lives. Did they even know what had happened to Stockton?
She looked around the teeming market. A solitary man leaned against a wall between booths. That could be a good start. Aeron followed close behind her as she made her way across the street.
“Excuse me.” Her voice was unsure but polite.
The scruffy man looked up at her. A pipe dangled from his mouth and his plain clothes hung loose on his scraggily frame, skin tanned to a leathery brown.
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and had a twinge of an unfamiliar accent. He looked her up and down with a suspicious glare in his brown eyes.
“I was wondering if you knew anything about an
y refugees in this town or anywhere.” She decided to keep it short and to the point.
“Nope, little lady, I sure don’t. Just got here from the south myself. Mayhaps you try some of the townsfolk here.” He gestured to the street behind her with a sweep of his hand.
“Thanks.” She turned and looked at Aeron.
“The first of many,” he said with a reassuring smile.
The elf followed close behind her as she asked various people in the market. Some answered politely, others refused to talk, a few were offended she even approached them. The only thing any of the responses had in common was the fact that no one knew anything about any refugees. The few that asked why she was looking seemed surprised to hear that Stockton had been attacked at all and said that they had never heard anything.
“It’s strange,” she said as she collapsed onto a bench in a central square. The road circled around a small patch of gardened land in a roundabout with streets that stretched off in all directions. Horses clopped noisily on the cobblestone as they pulled carriages along, some elegant, some simple.
“Indeed it is.” Aeron sat next to her.
“It’s like the whole thing never even happened. You’d think that at least some survivors would have made it here.” She gazed out at the busy road, her eyes seeing everything and nothing. “Or at least some news. Anything.”
“Did your town have good relations with this one?”
“I think so. No, I’m sure of it. We used to get travelers all the time in the tavern, many of them were traders from here.” Her shoulders slumped and she rested her elbows on her knees.
“Well, why don’t we continue this tomorrow in another part of town?” He rose to his feet in front of her. “We will get some rest, have a nice warm bath, and start fresh. What do you say?”
“Do I have to bathe with you?”
Aeron laughed. “You catch on fast, my lady.”
She rose to her feet. The disappointment of the day weighed heavy in her heart. “Lead the way, my gallant knight.” She took his offered arm and they plunged into the chaos once more.
He led her down a narrow side street off the busy roundabout. The crowds grew sparse, the buildings more residential and quiet with fewer shops and businesses dotting the street. A small group of men hovered around a window several paces down. The sign above read ‘Brawner’s Inn’ in bold black lettering.
“That should be the one,” Aeron pronounced.
“How can you tell?”
“I know how he thinks.” He seemed sure of himself.
The men around the window dispersed when they saw Aeron approaching. They meandered down the street, watching the elf with curious, suspicious eyes.
Aeron smiled as he opened the door and gestured with his other hand. “After you, my lady.”
Lively music drifted from the back of the room, mixing with laughs and conversation from the crowd. The doorway was cramped, but opened up to a high ceiling, dangled with modest black, wrought iron chandeliers. Booths covered the left wall and a small dance floor filled with people sat in the middle, beyond a sea of tables and chairs. A bar stretched the length of the wall to the left. The modest interior was mostly oak and pine: the tables, the chairs, the floor. A poor man’s bar.
Claire stood near the entrance. The feeling of the tavern was familiar and the energy brightened her mood a bit.
“Ah, there.” Aeron pointed to the bar.
Farron sat atop a barstool, hunched over a drink, his weapons and pack gone. A woman with an ample bosom leaned in close to him. She wore a low-cut deep green dress and had a mess of russet ringlets on top of her head.
Claire was impressed at Aeron’s ability to find his partner so efficiently. “So, what did you mean about that comment earlier?”
“Watch and see.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Despite what it may seem, Farron is actually quite popular with the ladies.”
The woman leaned in closer and brushed her bosom up against his arm. He took a drink, leaned in closer, and whispered something in her ear. A look of disgust showed on her face and she quickly hopped off the stool and stormed away in a huff. He smirked as he turned back to the bar.
Aeron sighed. “Unfortunately he is just not that good with them. How come they do not flock to me like that?”
Claire remained silent at that.
“Aren’t I just as good looking?”
“Sure,” she answered plainly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea, “but he’s got the whole dark mysterious thing going on. Women love that— they see it as a challenge. Saw it in the tavern all the time.”
“Really? So if I act like him, I will be swarming with women?”
“Yes, well, maybe.” The prospect just seemed too amusing to pass up. “You should try it.”
“I will show him who is mysterious,” Aeron mumbled as he walked off into the crowd. He plopped down at a small table in the center of the room, his face solemn and cold, and took off his sword and pack and laid them on the table in front of him. An anxious bar maiden sidled up to his table and he tried his best to act like his partner.
Claire shook her head and made her way across the room to climb onto the recently vacated barstool next to Farron.
“Any luck?” He took a swig from the mug in front of him.
She could barely hear him above the noise of the crowd and the music. “No.” She glanced back to check on the other elf’s progress. Aeron sat huddled over his drink with a distressed look on his face, clearly overplaying the sulking part. Laughter burst out of her lips at his ridiculous attempt, and she covered her mouth with her hand to try to stifle the sound.
“What’s so funny?” Farron asked.
Claire nodded toward Aeron and Farron looked over at the depressed-looking elf. “He’s trying to act like you.”
Farron sighed heavily. “And why is he doing that?”
“It’s an experiment.”
He turned back to the bar and took another sip from his mug.
“What did you say to that woman before?”
Farron choked on his drink and coughed as he set the mug down on the bar. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand as an amused look crossed his face. “You saw that, huh?”
Claire waited for an answer.
“Maybe I’m just not good with women.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He chuckled and she instantly felt the eyes of every woman in the bar on her. Yikes. She glanced back again at Aeron. A brave ash-blonde woman sat next to him and leaned close over the corner of the table as he continued with his act. Claire turned back to face Farron, her eyebrow cocked expectantly. He wasn’t dodging this one. Sure, their first encounter had been a little rocky, but she knew he wasn’t mean.
“Do you really want to know?”
She waited.
“I’m certain you know quite well what she wanted.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
Claire smiled; she did.
“I just told her that my services weren’t cheap. She was offended I wasn’t swayed by her feminine wiles and stormed off.”
“You do that sort of thing?”
“I didn’t always live in the forest,” he reminded her. “Had to survive somehow.”
She was speechless for a second, having unraveled a piece of his past. Now she knew why he wanted to keep it such a secret. “I can’t believe it, you of all people.”
“And I can’t believe you bought it.”
She gawked at him. “Very funny. Did you tell her that story?”
He just grinned and downed the last of his drink.
A loud slap cut through the noise of the bar then. Claire spun around and scanned the room. The woman that had been talking with Aeron stormed away. The elf sat at the table, rubbing his cheek with his hand.
“It looks like he has the same talent with women as you do,” Claire said. “Well, time to send in the reinforcements.” She hopped down off the barstool and wound her way t
hrough the tables. She sat in the seat adjacent to the elf. Farron sat across from her. “Do I even want to know what you said?”
Aeron took a lengthy gulp from a wooden mug, tipping it up high to finish it off. He threw his arm up in the air for the barmaid. An older woman with gray streaks in her blonde hair and a skip in her step hurried over and he held up three fingers to her. She nodded and made her way toward the bar. Curious onlookers snuck glances in their direction; it was a surprise the people remained so calm about the strangers, not starting any trouble— so far, at least. Claire was grateful. She already had too much on her plate the way things were.
“Farron, my friend, I just do not know how you do it. Being all sulky, it is exhausting.”
“For the last time, I don’t sulk.”
Claire patted Aeron on the arm. “It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll do fine being yourself.”
“There is just no hope for me.” His sigh was exaggerated. “How about you, my lady? I am sure all the boys flocked to you in your little town.”
She looked down at her hands that played nervously with a strap on Aeron’s pack. “Adopted barmaid isn’t exactly an appealing prospect. Even in my little town.”
There was a moment of silence at the small table.
“You were adopted?” Aeron asked as his eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.
“Yes. It’s not that strange these days, is it?”
The two elves exchanged looks.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking. Even though she’s not my real mother, she’s the closest thing I have to one. She raised and took care of me. As far as I’m concerned, that’s good enough for me.”
There was another pause at the table.
“Did you have any luck this afternoon?” Aeron turned to Farron.
The barmaid came back with a tray full of drinks and carefully set the mugs down on the table. The older woman looked up at the two elves and smiled shyly, her cheeks flushing, and then she glanced away. She turned and made her way to the group of barmaids huddled in the corner by the bar. Claire could faintly hear their shrieks and giggles, no doubt gushing about the newcomers.
“None.” Farron gripped the handle on his mug tight, avoiding Claire’s gaze.
“You didn’t have any luck either?” she asked. “Don’t you think it’s strange? What could have happened to everyone? Where did they go?” She looked down into her mug and took a sip of the dark ale. Her face twisted at the sour taste.
“It’s possible they could have fled to Alexos,” Farron said. “Unfortunately, it’s the other way.”
A port city to the east, Alexos was not under Lendonian rule, though it was one of their main traders, Stockton being an almost midway point along the route. A place she’d always hoped of seeing, a great city along the sea, but it looked like that dream would be quashed as well. “So you’re saying we can’t go there?”
“You might have forgotten, but we’re still on a mission.” Farron’s icy eyes bore into her from across the tiny table. She returned his look, not willing to back down so easily.
“Now, now.” Aeron waved his hands in the air between them. “We can still look around tomorrow. Someone in this town might know what is going on.” He held his mug up in the air. “Here is to finding your mother. And not getting mauled by the people of Lendon.”
Claire shifted her gaze to Aeron. She was grateful that he was there to lighten the mood. She held her mug up and they both looked at Farron, waiting for him to do the same.
“Yeah, yeah,” he caved.
They clanged their mugs together and drank.
“Besides,” Farron continued, “there’s no guarantee that they even went to Alexos. There are several small towns in the outlying region.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She was just anxious to find someone, anyone that she knew. She wanted to see a familiar face. Someone she could connect her past to. The present felt all too much like a dream. Mother was a tough broad and it would take a greater enemy than the centaurs to bring her down. Her mind wouldn’t let her believe anything else.
“Something’s bound to turn up sooner or later,” Farron said.
It must be his version of being nice. At least he tried. She took another sip of the sour drink. She had always preferred the sweeter wines and liquors. The bitter ales seemed to be a man thing.
“Do you dance, my lady?” Aeron asked.
Claire looked up to the couples that moved to the lively music. She didn’t recognize the dance.
“Why not,” she shrugged. Most of the people in the tavern would be too drunk to notice if she messed up. She undid her belt and set her dagger on the table along with Aeron’s things.
Aeron bowed, offered his arm, and led her to the little dance floor. A few women eyed her maliciously, but they’d already had their chance.
“Go easy on me, mon lainí. I am afraid I am not too familiar with this sort of dance.” He stopped on the edge of the dance floor in an empty area.
“Me either.”
“Shall I teach you how to dance like a lady then? After all, you are a lady now.”
“I suppose you shall.” She stuck her chin up in the air and held her hand out for him to take it.
Aeron grabbed her hand, pulled her close and put his other hand on her waist. “Try to follow my lead for now.” He stepped back slowly, then to the side. She followed his steps as he formed a small square. “I will have to teach you all sorts of things now that you are a lady. Sword fighting may have to go.”
“No!” she cried. “I need to learn that!”
“Yes, yes.” He laughed and repeated his steps, slowly increasing the speed. “Not bad. You have not stepped on my foot once.”
“I have danced before.”
Aeron turned, the sudden move taking her by surprise, and she stumbled. The elf caught her, his hands gripping her shoulders tight before resuming their dance again. She looked up to find a smirk plastered on his face. He did that on purpose.
“I must apologize for my partner,” he said. “I am afraid he does not emote very well.”
“I haven’t noticed.”
“He means well, though. I think.” He added the last part tentatively. “It looks like we have some company,” he murmured, glancing up past her head. He turned so she could peer around his shoulder.
Three men approached the table Farron sat at, two of them wearing the light armor she’d seen earlier in the day when they passed through the town gate. Their heads bare and faces grim, it didn’t look like any official business. Which could mean trouble.
Claire sighed. And they’d been doing so well. Although they’ve been getting strange looks all evening, no one had taken that first step. But all that could change, and usually did in her experience, when they got an ounce of alcohol in them. Only this time, she couldn’t seek the town guard for help like she or her mother used to. Not when they were a part of the problem.
The two guards stepped up behind Farron while the other leaned over the table in front of him. The elf seemed to remain calm, raising his mug to take a swig of ale.
Aeron and Claire stopped dancing, both turning their attention to the other elf. They remained standing on the dance floor while other couples danced around them, seemingly oblivious to the growing problem. So far at least. Aeron’s hand squeezed her shoulder, but he didn’t move otherwise. His jaw clenched tight as he stared at his partner.
“Should we go?” Claire asked quietly.
He shook his head. “No. I think I would only make it worse.”
With dark features and normal clothing, the man that leaned in closer over the table didn’t look all too threatening. No weapons were visible at least. The same couldn’t be said about the guards. Each wore a sword around their waists, and each more than likely had some sort of combat training. How much and what rank they were was hard to tell. All she knew was that this could get ugly, and fast.
Her hands went to her waist instinctively, but it was bare. The dagger lay on the tab
le between all of them, along with Aeron’s arms. Farron’s back was bare, but he was in close reach, not exactly safer, but at least it was something.
Claire watched as Farron set the mug down on the table with slow and precise movements, his mask set into place as he looked up at the man, emotionless and cold. That’s when she knew they were definitely in trouble.
The guards behind him grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him forward across the tabletop, pinning the elf down in place.
Aeron’s hand on her arm halted her steps. The music stopped abruptly, leaving the room quiet except for the hushed whispers spreading through the crowd as they turned toward the commotion.
A hand slammed down on Aeron’s shoulder, but the elf barely paid it any mind, his attention still on his partner.
“You might want to remove that, kind sir,” Aeron said, his voice composed but low, lacking any hint of his usual amusement.
Farron remained still on the table, trapped under the two guards with his arms behind his back. His cold eyes returned Aeron’s look. They were calm, but were planning something. She could tell. Or at least she hoped they were. She just wished she would be included in on it. Were they reading each other’s minds? Could elves do that? Although handy, she’d be afraid to see what was in Aeron’s head.
Now there was a scary thought. She shivered. One scary situation at a time.
When she looked back at Farron, his eyes met hers. Hard to read and a little unnerving, they didn’t leave her face. Was he trying to tell her something? Why did they seem a little sad? Perhaps he was embarrassed to be caught unaware. But she had a feeling that wasn’t quite it. There was a struggle behind those icy blues, but she wasn’t quite sure over what.
Thick fingers wrapped around her arm, breaking her concentration. She looked up into a burly red beard, the face behind it as thick as the hand gripping her. The rest of the body matched. Round and big, but strong. Very strong.
She swallowed as she glanced around. They were outnumbered. Three on Farron, two behind Aeron, and one really big one for her. They were really overcompensating, for her sake, anyway. Did they really need to send the bear after her?
“You will leave my lady out of this,” Aeron said, turning his eyes on the beast of a man.
“I’d think we’d be doin’ her a favor,” barked the man behind him, his hand still on the elf’s shoulder. With hair a dusty blonde and a rather attractive face marred by pock marks, the man didn’t look any more threatening than his friend across the room. But his eyes spoke a different truth. They wanted trouble, and there was no talking him out of it. Any of them.
Nevertheless, it wouldn’t stop her from trying. “Please,” she said. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just passing through; we’ll be out of your town tomorrow—”
“Hush girl,” the bear man bellowed, his voice gruff. His hand tightened around her arm, and then he yanked her away from Aeron, pulling her out of his reach.
Claire whirled around to smack, punch and kick at him, but her efforts were in vain. He barely budged. This really wasn’t fair. What would happen to her if they beat the elves? Would they just let her go? Somehow she doubted it. She knew all too well what a band of men like them would do to a lone woman.
The crowd grew painfully quiet, all eyes were on them. No one made a move to stop any of it. No one probably would either. They were afraid, or at least didn’t want to get involved. And she couldn’t blame them, much to her distress.
Aeron looked at Farron again and said, “Ahgis threik non.”
There was a slight pause before both elves sprang into action. Aeron spun around, grabbed pock mark’s hand and twisted it up and around in a way that brought the man to his knees. The second man sprung for the elf, fist drawn back. Aeron ducked under it to bring his own fist up to meet the skinny man’s stomach, causing him to keel over.
Many of the patrons left, running for the door. A few raised their mugs and cheered while the rest gasped and shouted. For a moment, a few of them looked like they were going to join in. She was glad when they didn’t.
A loud crash brought her attention back to Farron. Somehow he had managed to wriggle out of the guards’ hold. He grabbed his mug and struck the dark-haired man across the table in the face with it. The impact sent the man staggering backwards, his hands covering his face as red dripped between his fingers. One of the guards latched onto Farron’s back, trying his best to wrestle his arms back behind him while the other guard drew a fist back. But before the guard could land the hit, the elf kicked both his legs out, using the other guard as balance, and struck the man in the stomach. The guard stumbled back and doubled over. The elf then wrenched the other guard’s arm out and around, breaking his hold, then twisted it behind his back, making the guard cringe. Farron pushed the guard down on the table, pinning him down like he was before.
Stunned, Claire was motionless. He made it look so easy, it was a little frightening.
The room grew quiet again. The excitement over a little too quick, for their tastes anyway it seemed.
Aeron knelt above the fair-haired man with the pock marks, his knee pressed down on his back to pin him face down on the floor. The rest of the men hung back, now a little more hesitant to fight than before it seemed. And after that display, she really couldn’t blame them. Her fears could be put to rest. Or could they? Just who were the dangerous ones here?
“Let her go,” Farron said, his voice dripping with ice. He looked at the man behind her, his eyes weren’t much friendlier.
She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved, or to turn tail and run away with the bear man.
“And if I don’t?” asked the gruff voice behind her. The big man took a step back and positioned her in front of him more.
Claire’s eyes went up involuntarily. What a man. Big, certainly. Brave, most definitely not.
Farron drew a knife from the guard’s belt, and in a flash threw it in her direction. Her heart stopped for a second, her breath along with it, only returning when the man shouted out behind her. He let go of her so suddenly, she staggered forward. When she turned around she saw the small blade lodged into the man’s shoulder. Blood trickled down his arm as he grabbed for it, eyes wide.
“You bastard!” The big man’s scream filled the room.
The door to the tavern burst open then and a stream of armed guards poured in.
Claire froze. Not again. There had to be twenty of them, at least. Against those numbers, even the elves, nimble and fast as they were, didn’t stand a chance. She backed up a few steps toward Aeron, her eyes never leaving the guards. These ones were different though. They wore helmets made of bronze, their armor sparked in the low light, made of a copper-like metal distinguishing them from the two that had attacked before.
And, instead of coming for them, the new shiny guards grabbed hold of their attackers, hauling them up to their feet. Even the town guards. They pulled the men off to the side to leave the center of the room clear.
It was then that he entered. A wave of whispers swept through the crowd.
Dressed in finery, the man was striking. He strode into the room, barely glancing around at his surroundings as he removed a pair of black leather gloves. He stopped in front of Claire and bowed. He reeked of high class and status and looked terribly out of place in such humble surroundings. Black boots stretched up to his knees with light tan slacks tucked into them. A formfitting jacket of deep maroon hung open over a beige vest and shirt. Gold detail trimmed every visible hem. He looked young with long hair the color of rich mahogany pulled loosely back in a low ponytail.
“Forgive me, I hope I am not interrupting anything.” The man glanced at the two elves.
Farron remained by the table, Aeron stepped up close behind Claire.
“Just having a little evening fun,” Aeron said, amusement back in full force. “And to whom do we owe the pleasure?”
“My name is Brennus Errolle, General of the King’s special forces.” Gray eyes
peered out above high cheekbones, a stunning contrast to the dark brown of his hair.
“G-good evening,” she stammered and forced herself to do a curtsy— a little clumsily, but it would have to do. She was still a little shaken.
“I am sorry,” he paused and motioned around him with a hand, “for this. I truly hope no one has been harmed. I will see that they are punished, especially our guards. I’m sure their captain would love to hear of this.” An apologetic smile crossed his lips, and although nice to look at, it was a tad bit troubling.
With just a snap of the General’s fingers, his guards dragged their attackers from the tavern, leaving only a few of the shiny ones to stand by the entrance. The General then looked at the musicians and circled a finger up in the air and a light musical tune filled the room again. He motioned to a few of his men standing at the edge of the area and instructed them to put it back together like it was before the fight.
As they did, the bar patrons resumed their evening, the maidens taking drink orders by the dozen. The tension in the room didn’t ease, however. Many of the men in the crowd cast uneasy glances at the General and his guards. But at least things are peaceful again. For now, anyway.
The General motioned toward the table where Farron stood and followed Claire and Aeron over to it.
“I have heard strange rumors in the city today, I never thought that they would be true,” the General said.
“Thank you for your help,” Claire said.
“It is the least I could do. I am deeply embarrassed by the actions of our people. But you must understand, we have not seen,” he paused, “your kind, in quite some time.”
Aeron nodded. “Yes, I had hoped for peace, but did not expect it.”
“Given the past, there are those that would suspect that you mean harm, and although I’d hate to think like them, I have to wonder the same thing. Do you?”
Farron crossed his arms, but remained quiet.
Aeron said, “Of course not!” before adding one of his wide smiles. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Aeron, this little lady here,” he placed his hands on her shoulders, “is Miss Claire DuBonte, daughter to the great Lord Derryl Heyn DuBonte.”
Claire fought to control her face. Where did he pull that one from? That certainly wasn’t her father’s name that they’d agreed upon earlier. But it was now, she supposed. She did another slight curtsy.
“And that irritable one is Farron, fighter extraordinaire.”
“It’s a pleasure.” The General took her hand and kissed it, a light brush of the lips. “You may call me Bren.”
Claire’s cheeks burned madly. He really was quite handsome.
“And what brings you to Lendon? It’s quite unusual for a lady to be traveling with two elves.”
“We are simply the hired help,” Aeron replied before she could.
“Hired help?”
“The best that money could buy,” she confirmed and straightened her back. She had to appear more confident. She was no longer Claire Tanith the barmaid; she was now Lady Claire DuBonte. “You can’t expect a lady to travel alone in these turbulent times.”
“They’re your guards then?”
“What else would they be?” She shrugged her shoulders.
The General glanced down at the weaponry resting on the table. “I see. And to where would your destination be?”
They hadn’t discussed that little detail. She glanced around the room in a hurry. A notice hung on the far wall that announced some sort of tournament in Rodem. “To Rodem.” She’d only ever seen the city on a map before, long ago.
“Rodem?” He cocked an eyebrow. “And what would a lady like you want to do in Rodem?”
“To see the tournament, of course.” She wondered what kind of city it was judging by his reaction.
The General laughed. “The Strongman competition?”
“My lady has peculiar tastes,” Aeron said.
“Indeed she does.” The General looked around the tavern with a curious eye. “Even the lodging is unusual for a lady.”
“That would be my guard’s doing.” She glanced at Farron. He just shrugged. “He thought it best to be more discreet while traveling.”
“I don’t think your plan worked,” Bren said.
“Indeed it didn’t.” She crossed her arms, growing impatient with the General. She wished he would stop prodding with questions. And she hoped he bought their story. It could be trouble if he didn’t.
“Please allow me to make up for this little indiscretion by accepting my invitation to a ball in honor of Prince Philip’s birthday. I think your presence could be just the exotic fare it needs.” He looked between the two elves. “Besides, with a pardon from the King, you shouldn’t face any more of these little… scuffles.”
Claire’s attention was piqued. She’d never been to a ball before, only to a few local dances here and there, let alone one in honor of royalty, and to King Harold’s son no less. She turned to look up at Aeron, excitement in her eyes, her hands gripping the front of his shirt.
“I suppose we could make an appearance.” He looked down at her and then up to the General. “Besides, it could be a good opportunity to establish foreign relations.”
Claire turned back to the General. “I would love to go, but we don’t really have anything formal to wear.” Embarrassment took her. A lady should always travel with fine clothing, right?
“That can be arranged.” He looked her up and down with a thoughtful eye. “The ball is in two days and starts at sundown. Come to the palace beforehand. I’m sure we can rummage something up.”
She smiled, her eyes alit with visions of grandeur. A royal ball, never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d ever attend one.
The General reached in his coat and drew out a small square piece of parchment with a red seal of wax and handed it to Aeron. “Just show this to the guard at the gate. He’ll have instructions for you. Until then.” He bowed gracefully and made his leave, his stride confident as he made his way through the tables to the entrance. The guards followed him out the door, taking the tension in the room with them.
Claire collapsed onto the seat next to her. She wondered if she might have answered too fast. Would they be able to keep up their act in such a situation? Well, the elves probably could. She looked up to Aeron for reassurance.
“I’m sorry, I just got excited,” she said. “I’ve never been to a ball before.”
Aeron sat down next to her. “It will be fine.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Besides, it will help take your mind off of things. Right?” He looked up at Farron and waited for him to say something. They exchanged looks, their faces serious.
“What?” Claire looked between the two, but they ignored her. “What is it? I’m getting really tired of all the secret keeping.”
Aeron’s arm dropped from her shoulders. “You do not really think he would invite us just for the fun of it, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
Farron sat down finally. “A man like him, I don’t trust him.”
“And why do you say that?” Claire asked.
“With a smile like that, you just know he’s hiding something.”
“Like you?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Farron fixed her with a cold gaze.
“At least he is polite about it,” she said with a slight smile.
The elf shrugged. “We can’t turn him down, or it would seem that we are slighting the king. He wants something.”
Aeron just nodded.
Her stomach sank. The grand visions faded before her eyes. It did seem a little curious that a General would just invite them to a ball like that, even if it was to make up for the skirmish. “So what should we do?” She looked across the table at Farron.
“Keep up our little charade.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“He is right, for once,” Aeron said, and Farron shot a glance at him. “You do not need to worry.
I will teach you everything there is to know about being a lady.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her.
“I think I’ll take a bath,” she declared, ignoring Aeron to the best of her ability. Grimy, sore, and tired, a warm bath seemed like the perfect cure. She rose from the table and grabbed her dagger. It didn’t seem like there would be any more trouble, for tonight anyway. She’d just make sure to lock her door and sleep with her blade beneath her pillow. Besides, it was the elves they had quarreled with. Not her. At least that was what she kept telling herself. “Which way?”
Farron tossed a brass key up to her with a white ribbon tied to it. “Up the stairs to the right. There’s a bath at the end of the hall.”
“Where is my key?” Aeron held out his hand. Farron dangled a single key from his finger. Aeron’s shoulders slumped. “Oh great, I get to share a room with grumpy.”
“Have fun, boys.” Claire turned and made her way through the crowd to the narrow stairs against the wall just past the bar.
The sounds of the music and people faded as she entered through a faded blue curtain at the top of the stairs. Two hallways broke off from the short main corridor, dimly lit by oil lamps along wood paneled walls. A dark blue rug lined the pine floorboards to further dampen the sounds.
Room twelve was down the second hall, the number dangled on a tag attached to the brass key. A single bed filled the tiny room. A bedside table, an oil lamp and a chest at the foot of the bed completed the minimal decor. She crossed to a little square window and opened the white doily curtain. A flat expanse of wall greeted her across a narrow back alley.
“A room with a view,” she mumbled and closed the curtain.
Claire laid her dagger on the bed and sat on the edge, the metal frame creaking under her weight. She collapsed back on the thin, lumpy mattress and the weight of the day crashed down on her. The disappointing results of her search crushed her spirit and hope. Somehow, she didn’t think that finding an entire town’s worth of people would be so hard. Something strange was going on. She couldn’t have been the only one to escape with her life.
She covered her face with her hands as exhaustion swept over her. Her arm began to itch under the bandage, so she unwrapped the cloth to expose the intricate tattoo-like mark. A nice warm bath would help clear her mind. She got up and opened the chest at the foot of the bed. A stack of worn towels and a robe filled one side. She lifted a towel and smelled it. Clean at least.
The robe was almost twice her size but would have to do. She bundled the robe and a towel in her arms and scurried down the hallway. The bathroom was small and outdated, but the water was warm and it was just what she needed.