Fire And Ice (Book 1) (59 page)

             
“I have been wondering why you are here?  I know you wanted to see Summerhall, but I know it is more than that too.”

             
“It is,” Shirri replied evasively.

             
Katelyn frowned.  She would have to come right out and ask, it seemed.  “Are you here because of Coran?”

             
“Yes, but not in the way you think.”

             
“What do you mean by that?” 

             
Shirri was amused that she didn’t know, or wouldn’t say.  “You fear that I came to try and take him away from you. You should not worry you know.  I would have an easier time stealing this palace and carrying it home on my back.”  She spread her arms to indicate everything around them.                  

             
Katelyn didn’t want to continue in that direction.  “Then why are you here?”  Her tone made it more a command than a question.

             
“I have the power to heal,” Shirri began and she no longer sounded amused.  “I also have had a vision.  Only one, but it seems to be a true one.  I must be there to heal him or he will die, and it will happen more than once.”  She looked uncomfortably towards the door. 

             
“Do you know when it will happen?”

             
“No.  Only that it will.  That is how it works,” Shirri replied and looked again to the door.  “Is that all?”

             
“Of course, and thank you for telling me the truth.”  Katelyn had much to think about concerning her outlook towards the Karand.  Shirri was only trying to help Coran.  A sliver of  doubt spoke in her mind,
at least that is what she says.  But is it the real reason?  Or the only one?
  Katelyn pushed the thought aside. 

             
As Shirri left, Martin took the open door as an opportunity to enter.  “Everything is ready for you to be presented to the people, Your Majesty.”

             
“Thank you, Commander.  I will be out in just a moment.”  After he closed the door she turned to Alys who had been silent during her exchange with Shirri.  “You were saying something about your father before we were interrupted.”

             
“It was nothing.  You should not keep them waiting.”  Alys pointed to the door.

             
“I am not going anywhere until you tell me, and neither are you,” Katelyn told her truthfully, and Alys knew it.

             
“It is my father, he ...scares me.”

             
“You have nothing to fear from him.”  Katelyn tried to reassure her friend by taking her hand.

             
“I know that.  He just brought back some bad memories.  That is all.  I should not be bothering you with it.”  Alys wiped some tears from her eyes with her hand.

             
“It is no trouble.”  She knew there had to be more to it. “We are friends.”

             
“Thank you,” Alys said.  “You should be going now.”

             
“Are you all right?”

             
“Yes.  I will be fine.”

             
Katelyn went and opened the door promising herself to find out what was troubling her friend.  Only it had to wait for now.  Martin was waiting for her in the hall.  He led her away to be seen by the people of Summerhall.

 
              She could still hear the jubilant shouts of the citizens of Summerhall in her ears.  It had been overwhelming for her standing atop the narrow wall that separated the palace from the rest of the city.  The large square outside the gates had been packed tightly as well as the streets leading off from the square.  More people hung from windows and balconies of the buildings that faced her.  At her appearance the crowd had erupted in celebration.  She had stood there waving to them in awe and appreciation.  She had no idea that a people could care so much for those who ruled them.  It was a testament to the goodness and the moral rightness that was the idea behind Summerhall and the Midian Alliance.  That the populace understood that was heartwarming and hopeful for the future.  It gave her strength.  She could never fail such a people who placed such trust in her.

             
She entered the council room where Lord Oran was working over a pile of objects scattered across the table top.  She noticed articles of clothing, rings, some coins of various values, and a knife that looked very different just sitting there and not being aimed at her.  “Find anything yet?”

             
Oran lifted his head to look at her.  “No. There is nothing to point us in any particular direction.”

             
She took a seat next to the dark haired Lord and yawned.  It had been a full day and she was ready for bed.  Outside the window, darkness dominated the sky.  A few stars were visible above the horizon.  “Is it a dead end?”

             
“I am still going over things here, but I do not see anything to help us so far.”

             
At that point the door opened and Alys came in with a bottle of wine and four glasses.  She looked around the table.  “I thought there would be more people here.”  She said setting the things down.  “I brought you something to drink in case you were thirsty,” she explained.              

             
“One glass would be nice,” Katelyn answered.

             
“That sounds good,” Oran said right behind her.

             
Alys poured them both a glass of the red wine and took one herself.  She took a seat next to Katelyn who took a sip of the wine and sighed. 

             
“That tastes good when you are tired.”

             
“What is that?”  Alys asked them pointing to the pile of belongings.

             
“Those are the things we recovered from the attacker today,” Oran informed her.

             
Alys picked up one of the coins and set it back down casually.  She picked up a silver piece and eyed it closely, then she gasped.  “I have seen this before.”

             
Katelyn and Oran sat up in sudden interest.  “What do you mean?”  Oran said first.

             
Alys pointed at the coin with a finger.  “I remember seeing it somewhere.  See the filed edge here.”

             
Katelyn saw the edge was smoothed down just above the image of an eagle.  “There must be hundreds of coins with edges like this.”

             
“Filed down in the same place?”  Alys countered.

             
“Possibly,” Oran stated looking closely at the coin she held.  “A filed down Ithanian coin is no proof, even if it is in a specific place.”

             
“How many Ithanian coins do not have the image of Ithan on the front?” she said triumphantly.  She turned the coin over so they could see the face on the other side.  It was clearly a woman’s face.  No woman had ever ruled in Ithan.  In fact no coins minted in Ithan had any other image than that of their god, Ithan himself.

             
Oran gasped in understanding.  “I have heard of them, but never saw one myself.”

             
Katelyn was confused.  “I don’t understand.  Heard of what?”              

             
Oran took on an instructing tone.  “After the fall of Ithan, Arryvestra was the only Ithanian city left that was relatively untouched by the destruction.  They still minted traditional Ithanian coins.  After Soros founded Summerhall they started minting coins baring the image of Soros, a practice that lasted for over two hundred years.  For a very brief time, only a year I think, a few coins were minted with Arya’s image on one side.  There were maybe two hundred made of gold and silver.  That was a thousand years ago.  Those coins are extremely rare and only a handful have survived.  It is distinctive.”

             
“Where did you see this?”  Katelyn asked after digesting the information.

             
Alys concentrated on the coin then shook her head.  “I cannot remember.  It was a long time ago.  I just remember that coin.”  She shook her head in failure.  “Possibly at home.  Someone showed it to me, but I do not remember who.”

             
Katelyn exchanged a meaningful look with Oran.  “Does this mean there is some connection to Meneroe?”

             
Oran turned the coin over in his hand.  “Maybe.  The coin was originally minted in Arryvestra, but could have been owned by anyone after all this time.  Meneroe is a place to start anyway.  It is still not much in the way of proof.  Someone passing through could have given it to him.”

             
“It is the only lead we have.”  She turned to Alys who was looking decidedly unwell for the second time today.  “Is the banquet ready to start?”

             
The young woman shook, startled out of her thoughts.  “What?  Oh, it should be.”

             
“Since I am the guest of honor I should probably be there.”  She glanced at Oran who was mesmerized by the silver coin.  “Will you be coming, Lord Oran?”

             
“In a bit,” he responded without glancing up.               Katelyn led her friend to the door and prepared herself mentally for more bowing.

Chapter 30

The Fisherman’s Rest

              Fat, wet drops of cold rain struck the hoods of their cloaks that were pulled low to protect their faces from the freezing liquid.  After a few hours of exposure it no longer did much good.  They were being soaked through to the skin.  Peering out from underneath their hoods they could barely make out the muddy, and puddle riddled road in front of them and had to trust their mounts to carry them onward.  The gray sky was indistinguishable from their surroundings.  It was all blurred together in a hazy, streaky, fog.

             
“Why does it have to rain?”  Devon complained from the seat of his gray horse.  “It is winter after all.  A little snow would be pleasant about now.”

             
“You have lived by the Plain for all of your life.  You know how mild the winters are,” Coran stated as he watched the water drip from the edge of his hood and onto the back of his black horse.  It was true that the Sun Plain was mild compared to the rest of Midia.  That was why the Ithanians first settled it so long ago, and why it was called the Sun Plain.  At one time, the land between Ostis and Arryvestra was known as Greater Ithan. 

             
“It does not mean I like it,” his friend complained.  “You realize that we cannot stay out in this tonight.”

             
“I know.  The first town we come to we will stop for the night,” he decided.  They had been avoiding towns so far just in case of an early pursuit, but the need for such caution was mostly gone.  By now people would know they were on their way to Tyelin.  He hoped that was all they would know. 

             
“A nice warm fire. To be dry, with a mug in my hand, that is what I want.” 

             
Coran ignored his friend’s complaints and concentrated on keeping his head down.  They continued to follow the road until he heard a change in sound.  Instead of the squishing of the horses’ hooves stepping in mud, they clip-clopped sharply.  He saw the cobblestones beneath  them and raised his head enough to see buildings on either side of them.  Pulling his hood back out of the way he saw the town they had entered.  Lights emanated from rain streaked windows to slightly illuminate the street outside.  The roofs of the buildings were lost from view in the downpour.  He spotted a sign outside one building bearing the name Hine’s Inn.  It was a long structure in the middle of the town.  Across the street was the entrance to a stable. 

             
“Over there!” he called to Devon and indicated with a shake of his head.  They walked their wet mounts under the overhang that sheltered the front of the stable.  They dismounted and waited for a young boy in a heavy coat that was too large for him to emerge from the stable’s dim interior.

             
The boy peered up a them.  “Don’t get many visitors lately.  You staying at the inn?”

             
“If we can get a room,” Coran replied removing his saddlebags.

             
“No trouble there,” the boy stated, taking their reins.  “You can pay for the stabling at the inn.  My parents own both.”

             
“Thank you.”  Coran led the now energized Devon in a dash across the rain deluged street and into the front door of the inn. 

             
The common room was well lit with oil fed lanterns on sturdily built, square tables arranged in an orderly fashion around the room.  There were twelve tables total in the room.  At the far side a fire blazed welcomingly in a stone hearth.  Coran felt warmer already and no longer had the need for his heavy cloak, so he removed it from his shoulders and laid it over his arm that already carried his bags.  Water dripped from it to add to the puddle growing around his feet.

             
A man and a woman sat together at one table eating and talking pleasantly.  Probably a husband taking his wife out for dinner.  Another table was surrounded by four men in workmen’s clothes.  They laughed at each other’s jokes as they ate and drank.  A young woman with blonde hair tied back and wearing an apron refilled their mugs from the pitcher she carried.

             
The smell of food was strong from the kitchen and his stomach rumbled its protest at being ignored for far too long.  Another woman, older with blonde hair and a few gray strands only visible when the light hit it a certain way, approached them with a welcoming smile.  Her hair was in a bun and she carried a few extra pounds on her.  She noticed the quality of their armor, clothes and the swords they wore. 

             
She curtsied ever so slightly.  “My Lords?  What can I do for you?”

             
“Something to drink,” Devon said quickly, but Coran overrode him.

             
“We need a room for the night and a meal,” he said politely.

             
“Of course.  One room or two?” She looked from one to the other.

             
“One, if you have two beds?” he asked.

             
“I can take care of that,” she assured them, still smiling.  “Would you like to take your things upstairs first?”

             
He nodded, Devon agreed reluctantly as he eyed the mugs the men held.  They followed the plump woman up some narrow stairs to a room that was as orderly as the common room.  The beds were narrow, but clean.  A table held a basin for washing and there was a dresser next to the door for their cloaks and packs.  All the furniture was without adornment and well crafted.  They laid their things down, each on his own bed and returned to the common room below.  They did not remove their armor or their swords.  They could only afford to relax to a point. 

             
The two tables were still occupied as the woman showed them to a table near the fire.  “You look like you have been out in the rain for a while.  You need the warmth,” she explained.              

             
It was fine by him since he could keep an eye on the rest of the room, and, more importantly, the door.  They took their chairs which thunked against the hardwood floor. 

             
“We have a stew with beef and vegetables.  You can have chicken, but that will take longer,” the younger woman said after coming over to them. 

             
“Stew,” Devon said hungrily.

             
“The stew will be fine,” Coran agreed.

             
The girl was about their age and gave them a dimpled smile.  “And to drink?  We have a red wine or ale.”

             
“Ale,” Devon stated.

             
“Wine for me.” 

             
She walked away with their order.  He saw Devon watching the sway of her hips and he cuffed him on the arm.  “Stop that, or Katelyn will have your liver for shirking Alys.  You know she will.”

             
Devon gave him one of those mischievous smiles.  “She is not here.”

             
“Then I will tell her,” he responded.  He liked Alys too and didn’t want to see her hurt.  He didn’t think Devon would really do anything by the things he saw when the two of them were together, but old habits can be hard to break.

             
“You can be such a prude sometimes,” Devon stated.

             
“Me?  I owe you for telling Katelyn about that serving girl.”

             
“Oh,” Devon said guiltily.  “Sorry about that.”

             
While they waited for their food the words from the workmen reached them.

             
“Two young lords.”

             
“Off to fight somewhere...”              

             
“Not that young.  The tall one wears the hawk of Tyelin.”

             
“Tyelin.  Think it is Coran?”

             
“Bet it is....has that look.”

             
Devon leaned over.  “How does it feel to be famous?” 

             
Coran waved him away irritably.  They were not that far from Tyelin so his name would be known.  It didn’t mean he was famous or anything. 

             
The girl returned and set two mugs on the table in front of them.  She smiled again before leaving.

             
“I think she likes me,” Devon stated miserably.  “Why did I have to get a conscience now.”

             
“Maybe you are finally growing up?”

             
It was Devon’s turn to wave a hand at him.

             
The serving girl returned with two steaming plates heaped with beef, carrots, and potatoes in a brown sauce.  “We usually have a better menu, but not many are passing through here lately.  No one with the coins at least.”  She stared openly at Coran.  “Are you Lord Coran?”

             
Devon sighed at being the one ignored.  Coran cleared his throat at the directness.  “Yes, I am.”

             
She was definitely pleased to be meeting him.  “I have heard all kinds of rumors about you.  You know.  Us being not far from Tyelin we hear about you.”  Her words came out in a rush.  “Did you really beat Torvilin?  Everyone says so, but I want to know from the source.”

             
“He did,” Devon responded for him.  “And he is betrothed to the Queen too.”

             
The girl gave Devon a dangerous look.  She didn’t like hearing the last part.  She gave Coran a last smile and left them to their meals.              

             
“I would not want Katelyn to take out your liver,” Devon commented smugly. 

             
“Just eat.”

             
They finished eating and headed back upstairs.  The girl gave Coran an inviting glance before slipping away to clear their table.  He kept on going. 

             
Laying in their respective beds in the dark Devon spoke.  “We could stay another day if you want?”

             
“What for?”

             
“So you could get to know that girl better.”  Even in the dark he could tell he was smiling.

             
“Go to sleep,” Coran admonished.  He rolled onto his side and followed his own suggestion.

              The next morning the sky cleared a bit and the sun poked out from behind the clouds.  They had their horses saddled and mounted as the sun rose above the horizon.  He gave the stable boy a little extra for doing such a good job looking after their horses.  They spurred their mounts into a walk.

             
It was another day along the river road before they reached the turn off to Tyelin.  Devon pointed at the fork.  “Did you want to stop?”

             
Coran thought for a moment.  If anyone followed they would go to Tyelin to check if they were really there.  It might be better if no one there could say which way they had gone.  “No.  Let’s keep going.” 

             
The mud and water from the day before had frozen the road over and a hoof slipped from time to time.  They turned east the next day to start the long trek around the large lake that was so important to trade between the north and south.  A couple of days later they turned north again and they got a look at the year’s first snow.  A light dusting covered the ground when they woke and emerged from the tent they shared.  They had again decided to avoid people for a time after passing Tyelin.  No use in giving anyone easy clues.

             
Before leaving Summerhall he had talked to Gelarus about the Orgog that hunted him to find out their limitations.  That was after Katelyn informed him of the wizard’s lecture on the creatures.  The Orgog were not very smart on their own, but would follow orders to the exact word.  That was if they were kept controlled.  An uncontrolled one would kill anything it found and seemed to prefer humans for eating.  How it hunted was not as frightening as he thought.  They didn’t have any special tracking abilities and had to be told where to look and what parameters to follow.  So the ones sent after him before probably were sent to search between Crecy and Summerhall, only finding him at the last.  If that was true then someone had to know where they were, or where they were going to send them.  That was the reason for the secrecy of their leaving.  The spy could not inform whoever he was working for.  Of course all of that was conjecture since as far as Gelarus knew the creatures never existed before now.

             
As they came closer to the marchlands and started encountering people again the talk they heard was about the massacre at a small town by Northmen.  Anger was running strong in the people here.  After hearing the details he couldn’t blame them.

             
They reached the village of Fisherton on the south bank of the Drenn River on a beautiful afternoon.  The sky and water merged in gray and the air was completely calm as soft flakes of snow fell about them.  Coran had his hood down and the frozen crystals settling on his face was freshening.