The Lord Son's Travels (10 page)

"Woman,
get up!" the voice insisted.
 
She opened her eyes to see Adrien towering over her.
 

"I'm
up!" she snapped.
 
A soft pack
fell on her stomach, making her wince.

"Clothing,"
he informed her, as she pulled herself up to a sitting position.
 
"I found a seamstress willing to
sell me a dress for my wife."

”I’m
overwhelmed with your kindness," Elenna muttered, barely loud enough for
him to hear.
 
He didn't reply.
 
He returned to Brendan, who was already
dozing peacefully on a blanket spread out in the sun.
 
She examined the package. It was a rough cotton bag, useful
in itself she was sure.
 
Inside was
a long loose sheath, colored a bland shade of beige.
 
Her nose wrinkled at the thought of riding in this.
 
Beneath it was a welcome surprise.
 
A pair of dark brown britches, similar
to the ones the men wore, but close enough to her size.
 
Underneath it was a light colored
shirt, again similar to the men's.
 
She looked up and grinned.
 
A smile touched Adrien's lips as he nodded, gratified at her acceptance
of the items. The britches had been a spur of the moment item he noted in the
seamstress’s shop; they were cut for a boy but would hopefully be a passable
fit.
 
He had doubted that she would
be able to keep up riding at their current pace if she had to switch to a Lady’s
pose.
 
And it was probably wise to
disguise her womanhood to any brigands that may come about.
 
He had idly wondered if she would be
offended.

"You
won't be as mistaken for a Lady in that apparel," he said.
 
"But the britches and blouse are
much better suited for travel.
 
The
dress you can wear when we visit in town."

"Not
likely.
 
I hate dresses." she
replied lightly.
 
This was the
first time he received a pleasant expression from her, as she gathered up her
new clothes and looked for a convenient place to change.
 
She spotted a gathering of young elms
that would provide some privacy.
 
"Did you get the dye stuff?" she called back to the
shopper.
 

"Do
you know what to do with it?"

"
I
hope," she answered.
 
She
emerged triumphantly, twisting this way and that to test her new wardrobe.
 
"Fits great, Adrien.
 
How'd you guess my size?"
 
The pants fit well enough; the
tightness of the leather would give after a couple of days of riding.
 
The blouse was loose and flowing,
reaching so far past her wrists that she had rolled up the sleeves to bare her
lower arms.
 
She had tucked the top
into the waistband of the britches.
 
For the first time he noted the green of her eyes, as brilliant as the
foliage around them.
 
She smiled as
he handed her the package of charcoal.

"You
were lucky the seamstress had these clothes," he said.
 
He settled down next to the fire to
watch her prepare the dye.

"Can
I use the pot to boil this?"
 
he motioned her to the saddlebags.
 
As she mixed the ingredients, he prodded the fire to burst into fresh
hot flames.
 
They both rested
silently as the oil in the pot began to boil.
 
Elenna began to dunk in chunks of charcoal and stir the
blackening concoction.

"What
did you see in town?" she asked.
 
He depicted the scene at the market in a general way, describing the
items for sale and the crowds.
 
She
listened intently, hoping some clue of her location would slip through his
words.
 
The noon hour was
approaching quickly when Elenna determined the dye was ready.
 
She stared into the gooey mess and took
a deep breath.

"I'll
be back," she said. “Hopefully more appropriate for public viewing.”
 
Adrien jumped from his seat.
 
"I'll be down to the river to
fetch more water," he replied.
 
"If you need anything, Brendan is on hand."

They went
their separate ways; he to the river, and her to the privacy of her shelter to
finish her work.
 
A few minutes
later, Elenna was dark-haired, and covered with the icky
 
concoction.
 
She had worn her old oxford shirt during the dyeing and now
it was ruined.
 
She returned to camp to find the pot now filled with clean
water, and a rag and bar of soap laid nearby.
 
She glanced around, saw only one sleeping man, and stripped
off the old shirt.
 
With a touch of
wistfulness, she stuffed the oxford in her backpack, unwilling to abandon any
tie to her home.
 
She wet the rag
and scrubbed off as much of the dye as she could from her face and neck.
 
Satisfied she did her best at
camouflaging her natural coloring, she put on her new blouse and waited for
Adrien's return.

He had
taken this time to scout ahead and behind, and was glad to find no other
parties on the road with them.
 
He
returned to the camp to find Elenna had grown bored waiting and was now
investigating the wilderness surrounding the camp.
 
The dye had darkened her hair enough to be safe in company,
but had stripped it of its former luster.
 
Her skin was even paler in comparison, her eyes almost glowing in
contrast.
 
She waited until Adrien
stood at her side, then pointed to the tree in front of her.
 

"What
kind is that?" she inquired.

'Tis a
fox-elm," he answered in surprise at her lack of knowledge.
 
She gently stroked the light brown
bark, feeling its roughness scrape across her fingertips.
 

"I've
never seen a tree like this," she said, continuing to stroke it
gently.
 
Her smile almost covered
the sadness lurking in her eyes.
 
His heart twitched with pity.

"No
one in town has heard of any strangers," he offered. "I doubt then
that others arrived with you from your place.
 
This town is so small there is no Wizard to offer
advice."

"Wizard?"
she frowned.

"Wise
man," he explained.
 
They
heard rustling behind them, and turned to see Brendan yawning and stretching.

"Good
morning," he greeted sleepily.
 
He spotted the kettle of warm water now resting next to the fire, and
immediately dunked in his head.
 
He
stood up, water pouring down his blouse, and grinned at his observers.

"Adrien,
what news in the town?"

"Nothing
useful, my friend."

"This
town's so poor it can't afford gossip?" Brendan replied incredulously.

"There
is a larger city a few days along the road.
 
We will stop there and make more inquiries.
 
At least I was able to get
provisions."
 
He stopped as he
realized Brendan was staring at Elenna.
 
She stood her ground, even spinning around to give him a better view.

"Well,
look at you," he said, taking in her new outfit and hair.
 
He smiled, holding back his opinions of
the masculine outfit.
 
He wasn’t
too surprised that his friend would
forgo the
rules of proper feminine costume so easily on their journey.
 
He supposed she had good reason now to
dress for practicality, but he hoped they could obtain something respectable
for her to wear if they should reach good company on their path.
 
"I guess you will have to tolerate
us for a few more days, till we reach the next town."

Elenna
shrugged.
 
"I could be worse
off."

"We
have a few more hours until the sun is down," Adrien declared.
 
"I am going to sleep, if you can
take the watch, Brendan."
 
He
grabbed the blanket from Brendan's spot, and lay down near the firepit.
 
He laid his head on the blanket, using
his cloak to cover himself as stretched out on his side.
 
Brendan and Elenna were left standing over
his dozing form.

"How
does the traveling suit you?" he asked her.
 
She shrugged.

"It's
the only way to get back home, I think," she answered wearily.
 
She yawned and glanced around.
 
She now noticed that most of the trees
were slightly different from the species she knew; close enough as if they were
related, but not the same.
 
Most of
the trees were deciduous, with large green leaves intertwining intricately
overhead.
 
There was little
underbrush, except for a few fernlike plants scattered here and there.
 
She listened closely, but didn't hear
any sounds of animal life.
 
Elenna
got the feeling this forest was rather empty.
 
She pointed this out to her companion.

"This
is the New Forest," he informed her.
 
He paused, digging up as much as he could remember from the old
geography lessons of his youth.
 
"In my grandfather's time, all of this was destroyed in a
fire.
 
Not many creatures have
returned yet, including people.
 
That is why we see so few travelers."

Elenna
observed her instructor closely, studying his face as he spoke.
 
The attention flustered Brendan.
 
He didn't know too many women except
Ladies of the nobility, and they had never found this type of lesson so
interesting. He started telling some of the tales he knew of this land.
 
They each picked a tree to function as
a backrest, and let the afternoon pass in stories.
 
Finally, Elenna started growing fuzzyheaded, relaxing in the
warmth of Brendan's voice, and let herself drop off into sleep curled up
against the bark of a woodberry tree.
 
Brendan thought of moving her to her bedroll by the firepit, but decided
to let her remain close by; her rhythmic breaths were some kind of
companionship in the long quiet hours of his watch.
 

Chapter 10

The next
several days blended together in a monotonous, backbreaking strain.
 
Nothing broke the routine of their
travels.
 
Neither man had ever
ridden that much for so long a time – both of them grew irritable with
the limited company as well as their aching
 
muscles.
 
Each
day conversations became terser and more pointed until the time in which no one
felt the need to speak at all for several hours at a time.
 
Each day they went longer between
breaks, as the drudgery of the road spurred them on faster to their goal of
civilization and a decent town.
 
As
soon as Elenna feared that she might break down and start screaming in agony,
somehow at that time Adrien would call a halt for a meal or the daylight break.
 
They would set up camp quickly
before two of the three would drop in exhaustion under their capes while the
unlucky man took first watch.
 
The
cooking duties were slowly regulated to Elenna, who the men insisted would sit
no watches and therefore had to make her contributions somewhere else.
 
She didn’t mind.
 
She had no love of cooking, but at
least she could do what was possible to make their tough rations more
palatable.
 
Brendan took a few
minutes one day to point out which plants were edible and tasty, so often she
could add a little something to the meal for flavor.
 
All of them had their secret fantasies of hot baths and good
stiff drinks to which they retreated as their mounts trudged on.
 
Washing was done only when a stream was
convenient, and quickly in the ice cold water.
 
Both men still shaved their whiskers when it was possible,
though usually they walked around with a day or two's growth covering their
chins.
 
Their clothes were worn and
dust caked; what hadn't started out dark beige was now.
 
Each ride was the same; Elenna in front
of Adrien on Madoc, with Brendan on Baldwan following slightly behind and to
the right.
 
The weather took a turn
towards warm as the official start of spring approached.
 
Now their cloaks could hang loose in
the night's breezes.
 
Elenna had no
reason now to ride with her hood as a cover, so she left it down.
 
She still kept her hair pulled back and
away from her face, to the relief of her companions.
 
She still caught them sometimes staring at her tresses, with
a perplexed or anxious look in their eyes.
 
The dye worked well enough so only a close examiner would question
the naturalness of its tint.
 

Elenna's
presence had become natural and expected.
 
She herself had moments when she forgot to think about her dilemma and
surprised herself remembering that she was lost.
 
Neither man had spoken about her quest for a period of time
now, like they had forgotten her strange arrival.
 
The men were focused on this leg of the journey; rarely
talking about anything besides reaching the next town.
 

As they
grew used to the extra exercise and passed by the first small farm in days,
their moods finally improved and civility returned to the group.
 
That morning at their meal, Elenna asked
the men to describe their home city.
 
Brendan waxed poetic on the beauty of Allè-dôn, and Allè-dènè specifically.
 
He described the city with the
earnestness of the truly homesick.
 
Adrien listened with half an ear, surprising himself by volunteering a
few details.
 
Elenna was entranced
by their descriptions of this different world, and demanded even more stories
of this interesting place.
 
They
passed some time in conversation, forgetting their fatigue in their enjoyment
of the memories.

Adrien
questioned suddenly, "What of your land?
 
Where does it lie?" Elenna fell silent, at a loss for
words.

"I
really don't know how to describe it," she said honestly.
 
She paused, thought some more, than
shrugged.
 
“Very different.”

Adrien
had been tending the fire. Now he stood over her in a way that reminded her of
her only trip to the principal’s office during her school career.
 
"What of your life?" he continued.
 
"Have you a family?"
 
He waited, demanding an answer as if she
were one of his soldiers back in his command.

"I
was a student," she replied slowly.
 

A shout
from the side of the road saved her from any further questions.
 
A man dressed in black emerged from the
side, brandishing a drawn sword.
 
In
response Brendan unsheathed his own sword and held it aloft, without thought
stationing himself in front of Adrien.

"There
are more," Adrien announced grimly, motioning to the north.
 
A couple of armed men emerged from that
side of the road, each grinning ear to ear with anticipation of the coming
spoils.
 
"Damn brigands!"

"Hands
up, good travelers!" the first man called out.
 
He noted with satisfaction that only one member of the party
had drawn a weapon.
 
That man held
it well, though, and the outlaw thought to contain him quickly.
 
He wiggled his fingers as a signal and
a few more brigands hustled out from the woods to accost the blond man.
 
As they surrounded him, Brendan
answered with several swings of his swords to keep the men at bay.
 
Adrien ordered Elenna to retreat behind
him and remain out of their way.
 
She watched in disbelief as completely unarmed he purposely strode
forward to meet the first group of the brigands.
 
With bursts of surprised laughter they waited for his
approach.

"No!"
Elenna screamed out in frustration.
 
The leader noted the twist of hair behind her head.

"A
woman!" he cried with delight.
 
"Boys, tonight we shall have some fun!"
 
She glared as he approached alone,
leaving his men to deal with her companions.

"You
are so going to regret this!" she spat out, as he reached for her and
chuckled.

"There,
there, pretty," he soothed, and was cut off.
 
Elenna grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him, the pain
of it forcing him to his knees.
 
He
cried out in protest, then stopped when she pulled back his head and with the
palm of her hand smashed his nose so hard it broke.
 
He clutched at his face and moaned as blood gushed between
his fingers.
 
His eyes wide in
agony, he stared silently as she dropped into a squatting position on the
ground in front of him.

"Told
you," she muttered.
 
She
remained low, studying the scene around her.
 
Brendan was still dealing with two attackers, though a few
bodies were already littering the ground around him.
 
He paid her no attention as he swung his weapon at his
remaining foes.
 
Still unarmed,
Adrien was surrounded by the other group.
 
He called out in alarm when she dropped low and he unable to see what
had happened to her.
 
As his
attention was turned away towards her, the brigands swooped in and made their
move. Several sets of hands had Adrien in their tight grip.
 
The men then realized their leader was
injured and froze, unsure what to do without his directions.
 
 
Elenna sought for any kind of weapon she could grab, and
finally settled on the sword the leader had carried.
 
She hefted it up, ignoring the protest of the heavy weight
in her arms, and climbed back to her feet.
 

"Who
wants to take a shot, boys?" she snarled at the men, using both hands to
raise the sword to shoulder's height.
 
They stared for a few seconds, dumbfounded at the sight.
 
Adrien took advantage of his loss of
their attention.
 
Suddenly from his
empty hands a brilliant light flashed, dazzling and momentarily blinding for
anyone facing his way.
 
After a
second the light faded to reveal a sword now raised up high in his hands.
 
The reflection from its mirror-like
surface was a poor echo of the glow it had replaced, but still brought the
attackers' attention back to him.
 
Adrien whipped the weapon over his head, and swung, taking off the head
of the closest man with the sharp edge of the blade.
 
Elenna froze immobile, her attention captured by the display
of his masterful fighting skills as he made short work of the two other men.
 
He stopped as the last man fell, holding
the blade pointed up at his side, and examined the remains of his
opponents.
 
A grunt from Brendan
caught his notice, and he spun around to see the last man had his friend at an advantage.
 
Without hesitation, Adrien pulled his
knife from his belt and aimed it directly towards the pair.
 
It landed true in the small of the
brigand’s back.
 
Brendan used this
opportunity to finish him with a final swing from his sword.
 
Adrien drew closer to protect their
mounts and their precious supplies as Brendan quickly searched the nearest
reaches of the woods for any other brigands still waiting for their turn.
 
If any remained, they had taken off
when they saw the results of the battle.
 
The travelers were alone.

"What
happened?" Elenna demanded loudly, one hand on her hip, the other leaning
on the hilt of the sword she had taken.
 
Adrien came around the front of his mount and stopped dead at the sight
of the woman and the weapon.

"Brigands,"
Brendan answered wearily.
 
"We
knew we would find some eventually."

"Luckily
a small party," Adrien answered.
 
He still had his sword in hand, which Elenna noted was completely
clean.
 
Not a drop of blood marred
its glittering metal blade though she had seen it slice through a couple of
men.
 
She glanced around, and felt
her stomach knot itself at the sight of the carnage.
 

"Adrien,
you used..." Brendan let his words trail off at the warning look flashed
by the other man.
 
"These men
might talk..."

"None
of these folk," Adrien declared.
 
Elenna leaned over the leader, who was still gasping and clutching his bleeding
nose.
 
He glared at her with
unspeakable hatred, but remained silent.

"He
still lives," Brendan observed over her shoulder.
 
He made a motion with his sword, but
Adrien shook his head.
 

“He’s no
danger now.
 
But we should leave
before more arrive.”
 
He turned to examine
Elenna more closely for injuries.
 
She immediately backed away and announced that she was completely unharmed.
 
He said nothing about the wounded
brigand at her feet, but took the sword away from her to stow carefully with
his packages on Madoc.

They hurriedly
packed up and mounted again.
 
The
horses picked their way carefully among the strewn bodies to continue on their
journey.
 
Elenna kept glancing back
to study Adrien as they rode, with a pensiveness that made him a little
nervous.
 
Even a woman, he
pondered, and a strange woman at that, must have noted the arrival of his
sword, and the fact of their prowess in using their swords.
 
He hoped their story of being simple
soldiers was not about to dismantle itself.
 
Despite her curious gazes she said nothing else, and he
hoped that any suspicion on her part would soon fade away. Their battle scene
disappeared behind the dust of the horses' hooves, and they settled back into
the same boring ride for the rest of the night.

"Where
did you get that sword?" Elenna burst out suddenly.
 
"I have packed and unpacked those
saddlebags a hundred times, and I know you did not bring that weapon with us.
 
And I'm not stupid enough to think
you've carried
it constantly on you."

Adrien
sighed deeply.
 
"It is
Arèal," he said wearily.
 
"My sword.
 
I am Neda
Alia.
 
Pester Brendan if you want
the details."
 
Try as she
might, she could not pry a word another word from either of them until they had
settled into camp for the day.
 
As
the cooking fire warmed their meal, she waited until Adrien had fallen asleep
and cornered Brendan at his watch.
 
He glanced at his sleeping companion, then shared the story of the Neda
Alia.