The Lord Son's Travels (66 page)

“You
go in my heart,” he answered.
 
“But
only I can take this part of our quest.
 
Wait here until I return, or until you know I will not be returning.”
 
He grasped her hand and kissed it.
 
“Know that I love you above all else except
my kingdom.”

“I
love you,” she whispered in return, and let him go.
 

Chapter 62

He
exited through the only other doorway in the strange chamber; a doorway he
would have guessed was in an exterior wall.
 
This led to a long corridor covered in brilliant white
tiles, featureless except for a matching wooden door at its far end.
 
He twisted the doorknob, heard a odd
clicking, and froze halfway over the threshold.
 
Opposite him, across a small vestry covered in the same
white tiles, were three wooden carved staircases laying side by side, two
heading up and one down, all ending at more plain wooden doors.
 
He remembered the size of the building
he had seen from the outside; he didn’t know how these steps could be here; but
he knew they had been placed there just for his use.
 
Except for the dark wood of the stairs and banisters, every
other surface was white plaster, freshly painted by its brilliance.
 
There were no candles, lamps or windows
but the chamber was well-lit all the same.
 
He chose to follow one of the upward staircases.
 
He opened the door to find himself in a
similar situation, this time with four staircases reaching in different
directions.
 
He had no way to find
his way back to the main building again.
 
He wasn't carrying anything he could leave behind to mark his progress,
and he was somehow sure anything he left would disappear or be manipulated
against him.
 

Adrien
continued his journey, ignoring the jabs uncertainty made at his
concentration.
 
His path generally
ascended, though it was difficult for him to be sure after so many twists and
turns and rises and falls.
 
His
boots barely made sounds even when he stomped them experimentally on the
steps.
 
The lighting did not change
as time passed; he had no idea how long he had been climbing steps, and he
wouldn’t let himself think about Elenna waiting in the world he had left
behind.
 
His fatigue began to grow
bothersome, but he couldn’t acknowledge that, nor let himself question how all
of these stairs could fit in the small fortress he had observed.
 
He kept on his journey, stubbornly
refusing to feel anything until he heard a voice behind him.

“Welcome
to the Center.
 
Who are you and
what do you seek?”

Adrien
stopped only when he reached the next landing.
 
He stopped in front of the next wooden door and turned
around.
 
“I am Adrien Lord Son of
Allè-dôn.
 
I seek Evenral.”

The
woman who now stood in front of him nodded solemnly.
 
She was slightly built, slim with blonde hair cut short and
vibrant blue eyes, wearing a simple white dress.
 
But she lifted a sword with the strength and grace of a
master swordsman.
 
Adrien
acknowledged her threatening stance but did not reply in kind.

The
woman was surprised.
 
“Will you not
fight for your quest?”

Adrien
shook his head.
 
“I have fought and
killed many since I began my quest.
 
But I will not fight you, Lady Eva.”

The
woman lowered her blade.
 
“Why not,
Lord Son?”

“The
fight would be pointless.
 
I cannot
kill you and I cannot win Evenral in battle with you.”

“You
wish me dead?” the woman asked in surprise.

“I
wish the lands of Eastland safe from you,” Adrien answered.
  

The
woman was intrigued, “How am I a danger, Lord Son?”

“You
are the one who allowed the Lord of the Southlands to gain power.”

The
Lady showed surprise. “You are indeed a shrewd man, Lord Son.”

“Why?”

The
lady paused.
  
“I have waited
long for these words.
 
A few men
have stood in your place before you, but their words were of greed and ambition
and ignorance.
 
Only you have
spoken with the voice of a leader and true Lord King.
 
Evenral will return to Allè-dôn. There is much to rebuild in
your land, Adrien.
 
You will need
all of your courage, your intellect and your vision, but you will bring
Allè-dôn to its very zenith of power.”

“You
do not answer my question,” Adrien admonished.

“You
will have help,” Eva continued as if he had not spoken.
 
“Those you have inspired throughout
your quest will continue to stand by you, as well as my gift you have wisely
placed by your side… you will share the power of Evenral.
 
This power is great indeed, for you
will have within your reach all of the universes.
 
Use this power wisely and only for the benefit of Allè-dôn,
and eternity is yours.”

Between
her and Adrien a small table suddenly materialized from nowhere.
 
The table was covered with white cloth.
 
In the center of the cloth was a clear
glass bowl, and within the bowl was Evenral.

Adrien
studied Evenral as well as he could.
 
The colors within were glowing so brilliantly he couldn’t focus his
attention on it for fear of blindness.
 
He thought the colors moved, but that could have been only
illusion.
 
He reached out and took
the stone in his hand.
 
Instead of
the heat he feared, its was ice cold in his fingers.
 
He clutched it tightly, then looked again to the Lady he had
worshipped all of his life as his creator.

“You
please me well, Lord King of Allè-dôn,” she said warmly.
 
“I offer you lordship over all of the
men of the Eastlands.”

“Again
I ask, why?
 
Why did you bring so
much suffering to our land?”

She
bit her lip; eyes downcast.
 
So
human a reaction erased Adrien’s last hopes.
 
“We wanted to test you; an experiment.
 
To see how your people would react to
violence after so long a time at peace.
 
Now we know that your land can produce as bold and strong a leader as
you, Adrien.
 
I am quite impressed
with you.
 
I would offer you great
things.”

“You
have nothing to offer me,” Adrien replied.
 
His eyes were as cold as the stone in his hand.
 
“You have lied and claimed false
dominion over us, and we have obeyed you blindly.
 
You played with us like toys purely for your own pleasure,
and left us to suffer the resulting consequences without mercy or kindness. You
have murdered thousands through the manipulation of a sick boy’s
delusions.
 
No longer.”
 
He moved to return down the bewildering
series of steps.
 
She spoke; Adrien
stopped and leveled his gaze with the woman’s.

“I
know not where you come from or how; nor do I care to ever learn.
 
You have no further business with
Allè-dôn.
 
I give you warning now,
if you try to interfere again I will defend my kingdom and my citizens.
 
With this,” he held up his hand with
Evenral cupped inside, “I am your equal in strength, and far your superior in
courage.
 
Stay away from
Allè-dôn.”
 
He continued down the
stairs without looking back.
 

He
traversed far fewer flights of stairs on his return trip.
 
Within only a few minutes he opened one
final door and found himself in the hall outside of Southland’s apartment, with
Evenral still cupped securely in his hands.
 
Adrien smashed into the door with his shoulder, unwilling to
let go with either hand to twist open the doorknob.
 
He cried out in relief when Elenna rose from crouching next
to the crumpled form of Alexander.

“Adrien!”
she cried and raced over to embrace him.
 
His face was ashen, he shook slightly as she held him tightly running
her hands up and down his arms.

“Open
your hands,” he ordered brusquely.
 
As soon as she complied as he slipped his burden into her open palms.

She
looked down, then rose her eyes to gaze at him in wonder.
 

“Our
quest is finished,” he said simply.

Chapter 63

As
exhausted as they were, there was much still to accomplish that day.
 
They left the apartment behind them for
the moment to return downstairs.
 
The generals of the late Lord’s army rose to their feet in amazement
when Adrien strode forth triumphantly into their midst and announced the death
of their leader.
 
They did not need
much convincing to admit defeat and surrender.
 
Though no one could or tried to put words to their feelings,
they knew the balance of power had recently subtly shifted.
 
Evenral stayed securely wrapped in a
pocket of Adrien’s cloak, but they didn’t need to see it in his hands to
understand their leader's reign was over.
 

The
bureaucracy of retreat began. Adrien ordered all of the new-styled weapons to
be returned and piled on a stack for immediate destruction.
 
Alexander had supplied his troops with
radios, which were used under Elenna’s orders to recall the monsters
immediately from the siege of Trees Man. When the radios had been used and disassembled,
Elenna took charge of Alexander and his apartment.
 
Adrien returned to the apartment to find her sitting on the
couch, knees drawn up and staring pensively into space.

“I
don’t know what to do with his body,” she answered his inquiry.
 
She shrugged.
 
“But I don’t think he’d want to go back.
 
I guess we can bury him here.”

“In
the Eastlands we normally burn the dead,” Adrien informed her.
 
“Is that what you wish?”
 
She agreed and sighed.
 

“I’m
too tired to really understand what happened today,” she said.
 
Glancing around, she added, “It will
take me a while to sort through this place.
 
I don’t want to leave anything from our world for anyone
else to find.”

He
agreed.
 
“We’ll remain several days
to ensure all is done properly.
  
I’ve sent a messenger to Trees Man to expect us in a fortnight.”

The
former army men offered them another apartment for their use for rest of their
visit.
 
They were all men of
practical nature who recognized the winning side when they saw it, so the
Allè-dônians were comfortable staying in their midst.
 
They never discussed the stone they often passed back and
forth, taking turns as Bearers.
 
Adrien wanted to talk to her about the Center
 
but the time was never right; he thought to save it for the
future when they had the luxury of enough time to think and discuss.
 
Adrien spent the next two days with
cautious acts of diplomacy as the new Lord Heir.
 
He sent several men as messengers to the Forgotten Lands,
advising them of the change in their neighbor’s government.
 
He hoped to develop regular relations
between their land and his own, admitting to himself the wrongness of his
previous judgments.
 
He agreed with
Elenna that it would be improper to introduce too much of her land’s knowledge
into the culture of the Eastlands, but the Forgotten Lands had learned a lot on
their own he would like to bring to Allè-dôn.
 
Adrien also met with a formal delegation of the
monsters.
 
Whatever their
deformities, many had fine minds and were glad to be free of the ruling men
they considered monsters.
 
He aided
them with advice on self-rule, and promised to keep in diplomatic touch. He
couldn’t fathom sending an Allé-dônian as ambassador to live in their midst,
but he wished them well.

Elenna
was busy demolishing Alexander’s residence.
 
She worked alone, alternately amused and horrified but what
he had brought over from their world.
 
The CD collection and player she packed and labeled for delivery to
Allè-dôn
, as well as
the guitar and sheet music.
 
Almost
everything else was burned to ashes in a giant heap.
 
As she sorted his belongings she thought about the future,
her own and her new world’s.
 
Now
she had the ability to return home at any moment she wanted, but the thought
wasn’t as comforting as she had always imagined it would be.
 
There were miles to go and many places
to stop and duties to fulfill on the way, but eventually her road would lead to
Allè-dôn.
 
She tried not to think
about what waited for her there, but kept working, and at the end of the day
was glad to see Adrien waiting for her.

By
the end of their third night at the Keep, they were ready to set out on their
return journey.
 
They were joined
by most of the now retired military leaders, eager to return to their own
homes.
 
Elenna glanced over her
shoulder at the quickly shrinking tower behind their horse drawn cart, certain
she would never see it again and glad.
 
The trip home was very different in both feel and speed then their
arrival.
 
Now they rode proudly
down the center of the previously unexplored Northern road with no enemies in
the Eastlands to fear.
 
At first
they were completely alone in the world, but as the days passed and they drew
further away from the lands of the monsters, a few farms began to dot the
horizon.
 
One morning a farmer and
his young daughter were in their fields near the road, and stopped and pointed
in amazement as they passed.
 
Elenna was the center of most of their interest.
 
She blushed and pulled up the hood of
her cloak as she realized why.
 
Her
haircut had been a practical idea at the time, but now she shuddered as she
wondered what everyone would say to her brilliant red hair trimmed in boy’s
fashion.
 
Adrien laughed as he
realized her concern, and whispered a promise to find something tasteful to
cover her head while her locks grew back.
 
He still smiled proudly whenever he caught sight of the color.

Within
a week th the Nothern road reached the borders of Roden.
 
News of their impending arrival had
beaten them by several days; as they passed down the road, swarms of the
remaining or recently returned citizens lined the road, cheering for their
heroes.
 
The landscape was
different than their last arrival.
 
Most of the beloved forests had burned to the ground in the siege.
 
Much of the farmland had been
ruined.
 
It would take a long time
for the land of Roden to return to normal, if ever.
 
Adrien shuddered, and was grateful again that Allè-dôn had
escaped the worst of the fighting.
 
He was anxious to hear the story of the battle after their departure,
but more anxious to see his friends again.

When
they crossed the border of Roden, they had found one of the King’s best
carriages and teams waiting for them.
 
They made great time to Trees Man, and were pulling up to the front of
the fortress well within the fortnight Adrien had predicted at the Keep.
 
They arose from the carriage,
momentarily distracted by the desolation around them.
 
The lovely lawns and picturesque houses of the village were
now completely destroyed or scarred with muddy pits and wreckage.
 
The villagers were still living inside
the fortress until the rebuilding process could be completed.
 
Food supplies were still low; they were
surviving on the generosity of their neighbors.
 

The
new arrivals did not have much time for somber reflections before they heard
the long awaited voices of their friends.
 
Brendan and Tarien had ignored their dignity and were eagerly pacing in
the entry hall waiting for the first sign of their friends.
 
When the carriage approached, Tarien as
senior was the first to descend the steps, but Brendan kept close to his
heels.
 
His eyes darkened
reflexively when he watched Adrien alight from the carriage first.
 
His hair had gone even further to grey
and the wrinkles around his eyes were deeper.
 
Brendan blinked back his concerns and called out his
greeting.
 
Adrien turned his way,
instinctively wincing as he saw the now permanent sling in which Brendan’s
right arm was encased.
 
He had
injured his arm again during the fighting, and refused to spare any of the
healers from the battle-wounded soldiers.
 
Adrien forced back his worry as much as his friend had done, and widened
his mouth into a smile.
 
He and
Brendan pounded each other on the back, the most affection a pair of
Allè-dônian soldiers would show in public.

“I’d
guess you’ve brought back a few good tales for the Bards,” Brendan
exclaimed.
 
Adrien demurred,
turning to watch Elenna emerge nervously from the carriage.
 
By this time several of the house
guards had arrived on the scene, discreetly following the royal guests.
 
One handed her out of the
carriage.
 
She caught Brendan’s
eye, grimaced slightly to his amusement, and was gladly swept up in a hug of
greeting.

“Welcome
back, Lord Wed,” he whispered in her ear.

“I’m
so glad to see you!” she muttered fervently.
 
She greeted Tarien with a kiss on the cheek, pleasing the
old man greatly.

Tarien
bowed to Adrien, then clasped his former student’s hands in delight.
 
“You are a welcome sight, my boy,” he
bellowed out.
 
“Most welcome I’ve
known.
 
My Lady,” he bowed in
welcome to Elenna with a subtle gesture behind him.

The
arrivals turned to Isabeau, who had diplomatically waited for the
Allè-dôn
ians to finish
their greetings before offering the official Rodenian welcome.

Isabeau
announced to her new visitors, “I have several guests waiting inside who wish
to pay their complements, as well as my father, but I would think you would
like to freshen up first.
 
Shall I
lead you to your rooms?
 
You shall
have a more formal reception tonight.”
 
The tired travelers agreed with alacrity.
 
They insisted their friends remain close at hand, but the
formal presentations to the King of Roden and his distinguished guests could
wait.

Quarters
were much tighter than during their previous stay.
 
The downstairs halls of the house were filled with the
population of the village, including some livestock as the farms were still
being reclaimed from the destruction.
 
Adrien and Elenna had a chamber directly across the hall from Brendan
and Tarien, next to the rooms of the other visiting dignitaries.
 
They laughed at Isabeau’s apology for
the less then proper accommodations, remembering in comparison some of the
nights they had spent on their journey.
 
The Allè-dônians, now joined by Tomas, sat together in their chamber for
some time, taking turns telling their tales of their adventures during their
time apart.
 
Elenna and Adrien left
out some of the details of Alexander and Adrien’s quest for Evenral.
 

They
were dismayed by the tales of the horrendous battle they had left behind.
 
The monsters, the military men
acknowledged, were their superiors in warfare.
 
Without the elves and Elenna’s pistols, and the arrival of
 
troops from the Forgotten Lands, they
would not have held out as long as they did.
 
It was difficult, and they each suffered plenty of moments
of despair when the food supplies had dwindled and fresh monster battalions
would arrive.
 
When he spoke,
Brendan smoothed over the foreboding he had felt for his friends and
companions, but he remembered very well the moment he knew they had succeeded.

At
that moment, a fatigued, aching Brendan was hunched over a table reviewing the
latest inventory of the rapidly dwindling food supplies.
 
All of the survivors of the vicious
battles of the previous fortnight were now sheltered in the central rooms of
the fortress.
 
They had fought as
well as they could, humans and elf, but there were too many monsters to do more
than keep them from tearing into the fortress.
 
He turned to the Elf King, whose support had been one of the
differences between total defeat and their thin hold on survival.
 
“We have food for four days,” he
informed him wearily.
 
“After
that…”

“I
will send fighters,” King Erik declared, “Somewhere they can find …”

Brendan
shook his head slightly, hating to destroy any confidence still left within
their midst.
 
“Its too late…”

“My
Lords!” a young boy raced in yelping.
 
“Come see!
 
Come see!”
 
He nearly danced in his joy.