The Cavalier (14 page)

Jonas shifted uneasily, not sure how to respond to the burly mountain man. He looked at Fil who shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. So Jonas figured that he would tell Tuvallus the truth, at least half of it anyway.

“After our town was destroyed by the boargs, Fil and I hid out in the mountains until the winter snows subsided. One day I woke up and I could move my body. I was sore, and very weak, but I could move, although I’m not sure how. It took me months to gain my strength. But as you can see, I eventually did.” Jonas didn’t know what else to say so he just sipped his tea to fill the silent void.

“That’s it?” Tuvallus asked.

“Yes, that’s what happened,” answered Jonas.

“I went into Manson after de attack…not one survived. How did two boys live when no one else did?” He asked bluntly.

“I don’t know,” replied Jonas.

“I see. Well…I reckon there be more to the story than that, but makes no matter to me. I’ll be gone in the mornen.”

“Do you want to travel with us, Tuvallus?” asked Fil, hopefully.

Tuvallus grunted again, drinking the last of his tea and laying out his bedroll by the fire. “Good luck on yer travels,” he answered as he lay down by the crackling fire and closed his eyes.

***

The journey through the Tundren Mountains was long and arduous, but Jonas relished the hard work and actually welcomed his sore and tired muscles. It made him feel alive. Unfortunately, they soon ran out of food and they had to stop and hunt, set snares, and gather berries, roots and wild onions.

Finally, after three weeks of traveling, they began the descent on the east side of the Tundren Mountains. The trading road was old and well worn. Caravans made the long trek to deliver goods from Finarth, Tarsis, Cuthaine, and Nu-menell, to the western cities of Onett, Bitlis, and Mynos. Merchants brought their wares to Manson and the other mountain towns, and then continued west, finally arriving at the coast and the great Sea of Algard.

Jonas remembered vividly the days when the merchants would come to their town. There would be a week of celebration with lots of dancing and drinking as the merchants sold and traded their products. It was the only chance for the townspeople to buy spices and salted exotic meats from the east, jewelry and pottery from the craftsmen of Finarth, silk and cotton from distant lands, and if you were really wealthy, weapons and armor from the dwarven clans in Dwarf Mount.

Jonas never got to spend much time at the merchant tents because he was always picked on or beat up by the other boys, but his mother would always take him to see the rare goods, listen to the stories and music, and watch the dancers, ignoring the stares, taunts, and ridicule of the superstitious townspeople.

Jonas’s heart ached as he thought of his mother, but it was beginning to seem like a distant memory. The attack on their village had only been three months ago, yet it seemed like another lifetime. He had changed so much. Not only was his affliction gone, but his body was growing with strength every day, and he was gaining confidence with every step that he took. No longer was he the little cripple boy who could barely hold himself upright.

It was starting to get dark when they neared a crossroads, one road meandering to the right, while the other lead northeast.

Jonas sat down on a big boulder and took a drink from his water skin. “Which way do we go, Fil?”

Fil looked left and then right. He, too, was uncertain. “We should be heading southeast, which I think is to the right. I’m not exactly sure, but it’s almost dark so let’s camp here for the night and we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Alright,” replied Jonas. “Let’s look for a good spot off the main road.”

“Lead the way,” Fil responded.

They found a small clearing off the main road. It was a good spot, surrounded by large trees and covered in a soft moss. They ate a cold meal of dried venison, sweet salal berries, and some pine nuts that they had collected the previous day.

“We’re running out of food,” Fil commented tiredly as he laid out his bedroll.

“I know, I think we need to slow down and do some hunting,” responded Jonas, absently. He was holding the cavalier’s blade in his hand, his mind elsewhere.

Fil looked at him with concern as he lay down on his wool blanket. “You okay?”
 

“Yeah, I was just thinking, that’s all.” Jonas looked up at Fil. “To be honest, I’m kind of scared.”

Fil got up on his elbow looking at his friend with concern. “What about?” asked Fil, with no hint of mockery.

“I don’t know,” Jonas answered. “Things have changed so fast. What are we going to do? Neither one of us has even been out of the Tundren Mountains. Now we have no home, no family, and we are heading to Finarth, a city we have only heard people talk about. And this symbol on my chest scares me. What does it mean?”

Fil sat all the way up and looked at Jonas seriously. “I’m scared too. Everything has happened so fast that it is just now beginning to sink in. The symbol on your chest is obviously Shyann’s mark, which means she has chosen you for something. I have no idea what her plan is, or why she marked you, but you must have faith that she will unveil her reason to you.” Fil reached out and gave Jonas a brotherly pat on his shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

Jonas looked up and smiled at his friend. “Yeah, I know, and Fil,” Jonas paused, looking up into his friends eyes. “Thanks for not leaving me before, at the village.”

“No problem, we are family now, meant to be together. Our destinies are entwined. I can feel it.
 
Now let’s get some sleep. I’ll take first watch,” Fil said smiling.

Four 
New Friends

Jonas awoke to a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Fil was kneeling next to him, his finger to his mouth warning Jonas to be silent. Jonas’s sleepiness vanished quickly as he saw Fil’s worried expression.

“What is it?” whispered Jonas, quietly sitting up.

“A caravan just came up to the crossroads and set up camp,” whispered Fil.

“A caravan? How long have I been asleep?” Jonas asked.

“Not long,” replied Fil. “What do you want to do?”

Jonas got up and buckled on his belt and hunting knife. “Let’s go take a look, see if they appear friendly. Did you get a good look at them?” he asked as he grabbed his bow.

“No, but it looks like a merchant caravan,” responded Fil who also buckled on his sword belt and retrieved his bow.

They crept silently through the woods until they neared the crossroads. It was dark, but the clear sky and the bright stars lit the road well. They hid in the trees, blanketed by the shadows of the night, trying to get a good look at the newcomers.

The caravan consisted of twenty wagons pulled by oxen. In the center of the crossroads was a huge fire surrounded by at least a dozen men. Their caravan was large and the only open space available was the road itself, besides, these roads were seldom traveled this time of the year so it was unlikely that they would come across any other travelers that night.

Fil and Jonas moved a little closer to get a better look. One large fire burned in the middle and they saw several smaller fires that were spread out on the road.
 
There were about fifteen men at arms, wearing armor and swords, and equally that number of horses tied to the wagons. Spying on the group they saw a handful of men who wore traveling clothes of high quality and carried no weapons. They did indeed look like traders.

“You’re right, looks like a merchant caravan,” Jonas whispered in Fil’s ear.

“I agree. What do you want to do? Should we ask them if we can join their fire?” asked Fil.

“Let’s get a little closer to one of the smaller fires,” suggested Jonas.

Fil nodded his head in acknowledgement and they crept silently around the big fire to one of the smaller fires that was separated from the rest of the men. Nearing the glowing blaze they noticed that there was only one figure there, huddling close to the fire, sharpening a thin hunting knife. His face was hooded and they couldn’t make out the features underneath. It was dark, but they could see that he had a small, thin frame, and he wore a green traveling cloak, light green tunic, and huntsman boots laced up to the knee.

Suddenly the figure stopped sharpening the blade and lifted his head as if he heard something. Fil and Jonas stopped moving and looked on with interest. The pause was brief, and he started sharpening the blade again. They got to the edge of the wood line, about fifteen paces away, and studied the lone figure some more. He kept sharpening his thin curved blade, but after a few moments, without lifting his head, he spoke.

“Are you going to hide in the woods and stare at me or join me at my fire?” the stranger said in a soft melodic voice, finally lifting his head and turning towards Jonas and Fil. “Have no fear, I will not harm you.”

Jonas noticed that he was not a
he
after all, but a woman, with a soft and comforting voice. Jonas and Fil looked at each other uncertainly. They really had no choice now, she knew they were there. Jonas wasn’t sure how she could have known; they had been very quiet and were both decent at the art of woodcraft. Fil had developed his skill during the many years of hunting with his father, and Jonas had learned that he was a natural. Hunting and moving silently in the forest required great concentration and focus, and Jonas had learned over the last few months that he had both traits in great quantities.
 

Stepping from the darkness, Jonas and Fil slowly approached her. They walked into the light shed by the fire. The lady pulled off her hood so they could see her better. She still held her hunting knife at her side, unthreatening.

Jonas and Fil gasped inwardly, their breath catching in their throats. She was beautiful, with long blond hair cascading past her shoulders, a soft but angular face with a petite nose. Her lips were thin, but inviting, with just a touch of pink that contrasted beautifully with her smooth fair skin. But it was her eyes that really held them spellbound. They were larger than normal, oval in shape and sparkling with intelligence and fire.

Suddenly some of the men around the large fire noticed the newcomers. They quickly unsheathed their swords as they approached the lady’s fire. The men were led by a large bearded warrior with dark, deep set eyes.

“Who are you? What is your business here?” the warrior asked brusquely advancing on the boys.

“It’s okay, Cyn, they are harmless,” stated the blond woman. When she turned her head to speak to the warrior, Jonas noticed that her ears were pointed and protruding noticeably from her hair.

“You’re an elf?” he asked dumbstruck.

The lady looked back at him smiling. “I’m a half-elf. Now, please state your names and your reason for sneaking around our campfires so the good captain here will put away his sword,” she said with a hint of humor.

“I’m sorry lady, but we meant no offense. I am Jonas Kanrene and this is my friend, Fil Tanrey. We are from the mountain town of Manson.”

“I am no highborn lady, Jonas. You may call me Allindrian. Cyn, will you please put away your blade.”

Cyn looked at her and back at Jonas. “I know this town. Good stout people. How is Braal, the huntsman?” he asked, sheathing his sword.

“Dead,” Fil stated bluntly. “Our entire town is gone, destroyed by boargs.”

Everyone stared at Fil with surprised expressions, unsure if they heard him correctly.

“That is what brings us here, Allindrian, we have nothing left. We are trying to get to Finarth to join the king’s army,” Jonas added.
 

More men moved around the half-elf’s fire. A heavy set man wearing a dark traveling cloak stepped forward. His face was slightly round and his head was covered with short curly brown hair streaked with gray. The man smiled warmly at the two boys, holding out his hand in greeting.

“My name is Landon Bylock. I am a merchant and trader from Tarsis and this is my caravan.” He shook each of their hands. “It sounds like you boys have been through a lot. Why don’t you join us at the fire, take some food, and tell us this tale. How does that sound?” Landon’s genuine smile was comforting and Jonas couldn’t help but like him.

“We would like that, sir. Thank you for your generosity. It has been a while since we’ve had a good warm meal,” Jonas said.

Jonas and Fil sat around the large fire, eating a hot bowl of flavorful meaty stew, and drinking cold mountain water. Jonas felt awkward being the center of attention, but he was grateful for the food and the warm fire, and he felt at ease with these men. Tough warriors surrounded him, and for the first time in a long while he felt safe.

Jonas began the story. When he got to the part when Airos, the cavalier, appeared, Landon interrupted him.

“I have met Airos once before in Tarsis. He is a first rank cavalier, an amazing man, and almost as skilled as Allindrian with a sword. Where is he now?” asked Landon.

“He is dead, killed by a Banthra,” Jonas replied sadly. Landon was taken aback. Even Allindrian looked up with shock.

“What!” Landon asked. “That cannot be, he was unbeatable, and a Banthra you say? I cannot believe it!” Landon exclaimed in disbelief.

“Landon, let him finish the story,” interjected Allindrian. “Then we will try and make some sense out of this troubling news.”