The Lord Son's Travels (20 page)

He
asked softly, “How do you know this?”

She
spoke into his side, unwilling to leave the comfort of his embrace.
 
“I studied rocks at school,
Adrien.
 
We learned about these
poisons and how they work.
 
Once
you have been in contact with the material for long enough, no one can heal
you.
 
I ... didn’t want to tell
them the truth.
 
It may take a few
days... I didn’t want to take away their hope.
 
Is that wrong?”
 
She pulled back to watch his reaction.

He
grimaced.
  
“You did the best
you could, Elenna.
 
Decisions are
not always easy.”
 
He encouraged
her to rest her head against him again, wishing he could take away her
suffering.
 
Now that he knew what
she had felt in the village, it was easy to understand her strange
reactions.
 
He wondered what he
would have done in her place.
 
She
sobbed for a while as he held her silently, giving her the peace she needed to
grieve.
 
When she was done she sat
up again, disentangling from the arms he had unconsciously wrapped tightly
around her.
 
He pulled away feeling
like an gawky apprentice.
 
Elenna
felt it too, and smoothed her hair and clothes to cover the awkward
moment.
 
Then she smiled gratefully
and murmured her thanks.
 
He
fidgeted with his cloak, forcing his mind back to their current business.

“We
will find this man who did this sin,” he promised solemnly.
 
“The Lady of Tears will cry no more
because of him.”
 

Elenna
glanced down at her swollen hands.
 
“I don’t know what kind of human could do this,” she said bitterly.

Adrien
said, “We’ll send news to the elves of his description.
 
Perhaps they can help us find him
again.”

“Adrien,”
Elenna said hesitantly.
 
Her
troubled expression had returned again. He shifted around so they were facing
eye to eye.
 
“The greeting the
mayor described... it was the beginning of a song.
 
One from my home.”
 
She nodded at his startled look.
 
“I recognized it right away.
 
It's a very famous song.”

His
face darkened again.
 
“You think
this person is from your home?”

“We
have our share of sick evil people,” she confirmed.
 
“And if I could be brought here, so could someone else.”
They fell silent into their own dark imaginings.

Adrien
ended the quiet.
 
“We should find
Brendan and Berte,” he declared.
 
“We will tell them what we have learned.”
 
She nodded and rose to her feet.
 
He followed her back to their camp, where their companions
were anxiously pacing.

“Where
were you!” Brendan exclaimed.
 
“I
thought we lost you both!”

“News,
Brendan,” Adrien replied.
 
Berte
handed out the plates for dinner as he shared Elenna’s discoveries.
 
She remained quiet, focused on moving
her food back and forth on her plate.

“Lady
damn him,” Brendan muttered.
 
He
threw his plate to the ground in anger.
 
“There is nothing we can do, Elenna?”

“Nothing,”
she replied wearily.
 
“Or I would
be doing it right now.
 
The point
now is to catch the son of a bitch who did this.”

The
noble nodded.
 
“Where shall we go
now?” he asked Adrien.
 

He
paused, his cup halfway to his lips.
 
“I want to send word to the Elf-king,” he said.
 
“Perhaps they can track him and his
comrades.”

Brendan
thought out loud, “If he’s also a stranger, he should not be able to travel far
or quickly.
 
Hopefully he is still
nearby.”

“Unless
his companions hail from the Eastlands,” Adrien reminded him.

Brendan
returned, eyes wide, “Do you think still they come from the West?”

“How
else would a stranger gain so much power so quickly?
 
Elenna, would all people from your land have this
knowledge?”

She
considered this.
 
“Not that many
would.
 
Most people wouldn’t
recognize the material or how to use it.
 
If he came here the same way I did, however that was, he probably came
from the same place.
 
A lot of
people at my school would have this information.
 
I might even know him.”
 
She shuddered at the idea.

Adrien
turned to the elf.
 
“Berte, I wish
to meet with your King again.
 
Can
you go to him and ask for a meeting?”
 
The elf agreed immediately.

“Adrien,”
Brendan asked, “We could use help.
 
Do we know anyone we can trust among the nobility of Arden or
Angor?
 
Someone who will not report
to your father?”

Adrien
pondered for a minute.
 
“Tarien
gave me a list of names of trustworthy folk.”
 
He strode to Madoc and searched through his bag for the
sheet the Counselor had given him before departure.
 
He pulled it out and returned to the firelight to peruse the
names.

“Lord
Vance ä Thrush Valley,” he decided.
 
“His land is nearby in Angor, and Tarien writes glowing praise.
 
We will go to Thrush Valley.
 
If the Lord is willing, we can parley
there and decide our next move.
 
Berte, I want you to travel ahead and speak to your king of our needs.
 
Perhaps the Elf-King will meet with
this Lord, too.”

“I
will leave in the morning,” the elf agreed readily.
 
“And find you with word of his acceptance or denial.”

“That
will be fine,” Adrien answered resignedly. He slumped in his seat, rubbing the
back of his neck.
  
“This has
been a long and sorrowful day, I will be glad to see it ended.”

“I’ll
take first watch,” Brendan offered, then yawned deeply.

Adrien
shook his head emphatically.
 
“You
and Elenna rest.
 
We’ll leave early
tomorrow, so sleep while you can.”
 
His friend relented quickly, lowering himself to the ground under his
cloak.
 
He was asleep in
minutes.
 
Elenna climbed under her
cloak, but couldn’t pause the thoughts in her head long enough to find any
escape into sleep.
 
For a long
time, all that she could see when she closed her eyes were the faces of the
villagers she had met that morning.
 
Finally she gave up, and lay watching the scenery around her.
 
The sky was cloudy, hiding the stars
from her view. The multicolored flickers of the campfire held her attention for
a few minutes.
 
She wondered idly
what caused the flashes of green and purple she saw in the flames, bringing
back a few random memories of her chemistry classes from so long ago.
 
Days now passed when she was so
involved with her new companions, she didn’t think of the home she had left
behind.
 
When she first noticed
these lapses, they were painful; almost accusatory that she could forget her
lost home.
 
Then she would vow
again to herself that she would return to her home the very second it was
possible.
 
Now the thought of going
home again was lost behind the idea that someone else may have traveled here
with her and that person was involved with the evil acts plaguing this land.
 
The thought that this sickness weakening
this peaceful land could have come from her home tormented her.
 

Elenna
rolled over to face the man on the other side of the fire.
 
Adrien was on watch, stoically hiding
his exhaustion as he gazed into the night.
 
His face was impassive, offering no clue to the ideas in his
mind.
 
He remained still, either
not noticing or choosing to ignore his observer.
 
His only concession to his tiredness was his position
leaning back against the trunk of an old oak tree.
 
Listening closely, Elenna could pick out bits of a tune he
hummed softly as he kept his watch on the night.
 
His voice was surprisingly pleasant, soothing. Before the
song ended and faded away, she had finally drifted into a dream-filled sleep.

Chapter 20

The
first thing Elenna heard the next day was the sound of her name whispered into
her ear.
 
She moaned and tried to
roll away from the source of the disruption.
 
It continued insistently.
 
She opened her eyes, and groaned louder when she realized
she couldn’t see a thing.
 
It was
still dark, more than an hour before the sun would first cross the
horizon.
 

“What
do you want?” she muttered.

“Practice,”
Adrien replied, his tone barring any discussion or dissent.
 
Elenna complied, unhappily tossing away
her cloak and rising to her feet.
 
Like the others, she slept in her traveling clothes, so it didn’t take
but a minute for her to tie her hair back and pull on her boots and be ready
for practice.
 
She had had so many
lessons, it now took little thought for her to place herself in a defensive
posture with her sword.
 
She yawned
as she took a few practice swings.
 
Adrien took his place across from her, drawing Arèal and taking a few
warm-up swings himself.
 
Brendan
was on watch at the other side of the camp.
 
He glanced at them, but wasted no more attention on their
ordinary maneuvers.
 
They had often
practiced in the rain or in the dark, with only a campfire to help them aim
their blows.
 
Adrien was determined
to train his student in any condition he could find or create, and Elenna was
mostly willing to submit.

Suddenly
Adrien lunged, an attack Elenna fended off without thought.
 
Her mind began to focus more closely as
he continued with a variety of attacks.
 
Both swords were of course battle-sharp;
 
Elenna had been reminded a few painful times that failure
was unpleasant.
 
She had learned
enough moves at this point to defend herself easily, responding with a few
offenses of her own.
 
The only
sounds were the peaceful rustlings of leaves in the wind broken by the clangs
of metal meeting metal.
 
A tiny bit
of pinkish golden light began to break through the trees to the east, allowing
them to finally see the outlines of their sparring partner.

“Tell
me about your family,” Adrien asked in a casual conversational tone as Elenna
spun to block a thrust to her side.
 
She paused for a second, and felt the sharp blade slide across her
leather britches.
 
She glanced down
to see a very slight cut in the material on her hip.
 
Glaring at her sparring partner, she pointed to the cut.

“Can
we talk later?
 
I’m a little busy
…” she jumped to the side as he swung his blade on a path to her right
arm.
 
He returned to a waiting
stance.

“Concentrate,”
he ordered.
 
“This is today’s
lesson.
 
You must keep your mind on
the battle, forgetting all else.” He followed this statement with a new
attack.
 
This time Elenna was
ready.
 
The sparring restarted, the
newer warrior fully engaged in mind.
 
She barely flinched when he spoke again, repeating his demand.

“I
have,” clang,
 
“two brothers.”
 
They both attacked, meeting in the
middle with swords crossed.
 
“Billy
and Edward.”

“Good!”
her teacher enthused.
 
“You’re
learning.
 
In a battle, your enemy
will do what it can to upset you, break your concentration.
 
You won’t let that happen.”
 
He pulled back and returned to ready stance.
 
Elenna did the same.
  
“The enemy will taunt you, insult
you, say anything to throw you off your balance in order to gain that moment of
time in which an attack will be successful.
 
You must not let these words destroy your concentration or
the battle will be lost.”

“Uh
huh,” the woman replied, eyeing a weakness in his opening swing.
 
She lunged, and was repelled.
 
She recovered her footing nicely,
swinging back for another try.
 
They continued, moving backwards away from the firelight.

“Why
are you not yet married?” Adrien asked.
 
Elenna tripped over a root, but quickly regained her balance and managed
to keep up her weapon and parry a swing.
 

She
answered snappishly, “I still have a few years of school left.
 
Seriously, I’m only twenty years old, I
hope I haven't hit old maid status yet.”
 
Sparked flared as their weapons struck in the space between them.
 
“What about you? You're a lot older
than me and still unmarried, right?”
 
Her next attack worked.
 
He
had a cut in his sleeve above his right elbow.
 
He didn’t even notice.
 
“Haven’t you found a woman yet that could put up with you?”

It
was Adrien’s turn to hide his consternation.
 
He replied in an even tone, “I am promised to a good
Lady.
 
When the time is right we
will marry.”

Elenna
laughed in surprise.
 
“You’re
engaged?
 
Who is she?”

“The
Lady Isabeau a Roden.”

“She
doesn’t mind you traipsing around in the woods while she sits home?” Their
sparring continued.
 
Elenna was
surprised how easy it was for her to continue with half of her mind on the
conversation.
 
And it was more
pleasant to tease Adrien than remember the events of yesterday.

“She
is still in Roden.
 
When we are
ready she will come to Allè-dôn.” Adrien replied.
 
He had regained his composure, and was pleased with her
focus on their swordplay.

“When
will you be ready?” she decided to needle him some more.
 
"When your youth has passed?
 
Guess what, Adrien..."

This
time his attack was sudden and fruitful.
 
He moved so quickly she could have sworn he had flown towards her,
lifting her and spinning her so that her back was now gripped tightly against
his chest. Arèal was against her throat, the blade just touching her neck
without leaving a mark on her skin.
 
Her mouth dropped open in awe at his incredible agility and thankfully
finally fell silent.
 
He whispered
softly in her ear.
 
"It is
true I may no longer have the bloom of youth, but I have no reason to mourn its
loss."
 
She sucked in a
breath, realizing now how much of his abilities he had held back during all of
their practice fights; even in his battle with the brigands he never showed
more than a partial glimpse of his exquisite fighting skills.
 
Her teasing mood was gone.
 

Adrien
gently lowered her down and announced an end to practice for the day.
 
Elenna pushed her sword point-end into
the ground, and rubbed her arm with a scowl of pain.
 
Though it grew easier every day as her muscles developed,
her sword was extremely heavy for her to lift, much less toss around, and the
pain was often agony after a practice.
 
Some nights she dreamed of finding a whole hidden cache of
painkillers.
 
But despite the hurt
the practice was worth it.
 
She
knew she could never hope to reach her teacher's level of ability, but at least
she wouldn't have to feel like an unneeded appendage if they ever had to face
another battle again.

Brendan
had started the morning meal in their absence.
 
He greeted them warmly and inquired casually about their
practice time. Both gave non-committal replies as they wolfed down their
breakfast.
 
They hurried through
their morning routine and were soon on the way.
 
Much to their relief, Adrien decided that they would be safe
enough on the main road again.
 
They rode hard for several miles through the thick forests in the
beginning of the foothills of the Sharp Sky mountains until they with great
relief intersected with the North Road.
 
After days of traveling footpaths, Elenna thought the dirt road was as
smooth and wide as an interstate.
 
Now that she had her own mount, a gift from the villagers which she had
named Sponge Bob in a moment of silly humor, the three rode side by side down
the center of the road.
 
Their
routine returned: ride by day, practice as soon as they settled into camp,
dinner, then a short night’s sleep.
 
Adrien had estimated two days until they reached the city of Thrush
Valley.
 
Sometimes they talked
during their ride, Elenna and Brendan trading light comments with a few
interjections from their companion.
  
On the second morning Elenna and Adrien found themselves deep into a conversation
on the merits of a democratic government.
 
The idea of citizen rule had never entered his head before but now it
was a sight obsession, and she had a difficult time convincing him that such a
system could work well.
 
He
described the rule of Allè-dôn, its history and current leaders, as she
listened intently.
 
Her thoughtful
questioning impressed him; even asking the same questions he himself had put to
his tutors.
 
He thought to himself
that she had a surprisingly good grasp of political leadership.
 
He might have been amused if he knew
she had thought the same of him.
 

Elenna
remembered what he had said of his future bride.
 
Her companion's far away fiancée intrigued her.
 
Once when Adrien had gotten lost in his
thoughts after dinner, she quietly asked Brendan about this mystery woman.

“Isabeau?”
he repeated thoughtfully.
 
“What
did he say about her?”

“Only
that they will be married some day.
 
I'm guessing it was arranged?”

Brendan
laughed heartily at his friend’s expense.
 
“What, you think yonder prince didn’t woo her with his charms?”

Elenna
shook her head.
 
“I admit I haven’t
known him very long, but I can't imagine Adrien doing much if any wooing.”

“Tis
true, he is not much of a ladies’ man.
 
Excepting Isabeau and his mother, I have no doubt you are the woman who
has shared the most words with our friend.”

She
watched Adrien across the fire, lost in his own ideas and completely unaware of
their conversation.
 
He had a habit
of picking up a stick and poking at the ground or picking at the bark as he
pondered his ideas.
 
She could
sense his total focus on whatever concepts now engulfed him, his gaze boring
into the circles he drew on the ground before him.
 
Even she could see the worry lines had etched deeper into
his face.
 
He appeared five years
older than when she had first met him such a short time ago.
 

Adrien
felt eyes on him, and looked up to see Elenna observing him intently.
 
She was tense; her back as stiff as the
stem of a healthy young fir.
 
Beneath her layers of confidence he could see the fear that had been
building since Nest-of-Ravens.
 
She
had never spoken a word about it since their conversation on the bank of the
stream, but she had thrown herself into their practice with an intensity he had
rarely seen in any of his students.
 
She bore practices that would have broken a much stronger man without
complaint; a strength he realized as he watched her he was coming to rely upon.

“We
should be within a morning’s ride of the Lord's house,” he informed his
companions.
 
“I’ve no doubt Berte
will have already spoken with the Elf King.
 
We might receive a notice to parley with him within a few
days as well.”

Elenna
questioned, “Are you sure you can trust this man?
 
Do you know anything at all about him besides your friend’s
recommendation?”

He
shrugged.
 
“We have come to the
point where all we have is trust.
 
The Counselor spoke highly of him.
 
That we must rely on.”

“I
wonder if these lands are as infested with these strangers as the lands behind
us,” Brendan pondered.
 

Adrien
answered, “If they are truly from the West, the road that runs near Thrush Valley
connects the eastern and western halves of the Eastlands and would be a logical
route.
 
I think we’ll have news
here.”

“Let’s
hope its not bad news,” Elenna retorted with their emphatic agreement.