The Lord Son's Travels (37 page)

Adrien
had nearly reached the top when disaster stuck.
 
The old tree broke from its roots, and before anyone could
react, the tree collapsed from the strain and slid down the slope.
 
Adrien grabbed vainly at the
featureless slope as he slid again to a spot further down, almost to the lip of
the cave Elenna had previously spotted.
 
He lay there silently, spread-eagled face-down on the sharp-edged
rocks.
 
Elenna screamed in horror,
as Brendan blanched and swore.
 
Adrien turned his head wearily to the sky, blood pouring from cuts in
his face.

“What
do we do now?” Brendan demanded.
 
Elenna shook her head helplessly.

“He
can’t climb up that slope,” she said.
 
She gnawed anxiously on her knuckle.
 
“Damn, woman, think!” she muttered to herself.
 
“Okay, if we can get that rope back up
here, we can tie something else.
 
What else do we have?”

They
searched around.
 
Their landscape
was desolate; the old tree had been the only sign of life nearby.
 
She turned to stare down the slope
again.
 
Adrien had pulled himself
into a seating position.
 
He held
his head in his hands, grimacing with pain.
 
“Adrien, we need the loose end of that rope.
 
Can you tie it to something and throw
it up here?”

Slowly
he stretched to the side to grasp the broken tree trunk.
 
He untied the line and studied it.
 
He glanced up to his companions then to
the rope coiled on the rock beside him.
 
“You don’t have enough rope,” he declared dispassionately.

She
frowned deeply.
 
“We’ll make do,”
she said sternly.

He
tied the rope end securely to a thick section of broken off tree branch.
 
He hefted this to the waiting woman, who
let it land at her feet.
 
About
fifteen feet towards her left, directly above the fallen man, was a small shelf
in the rock.
 
A foot beyond that
was a heavy outcropping of rock, narrow enough to wind a rope around, and
possibly sturdy enough to support Adrien’s weight.
 
She pointed this out to Brendan.

“I’m
going over there,” she said, picking up the rope-end at her feet.
 
Brendan shook his head emphatically.
 
“There is nothing to hold on the way,
Elenna.
 
You can’t reach that.”

“I’m
doing it anyway, Bren.
 
I’m light,
and its closer to his position so the rope might be long enough from
there.”
 
He protested again.
 
“I’m not leaving him there, Bren,” she
insisted.
 
She dropped her packs at
his feet.
 
“Guard our gear, we’ll
be right back.”
 

Adrien
watched in horror as she stepped out from the safety of the fault and crawled
onto the slippery rock above him.
 
He wanted to order her back, but he was afraid to speak and disturb her
concentration.
 
Both men monitored
her progress as she made her way cautiously across the stone.
 
Elenna kept her eyes firmly on the
ledge slowly growing closer, breathing deeply and trying to pretend this was
just another weekend climb at home.
 
She reached the ledge, grinning deeply as she pulled herself onto its
welcome horizontal flatness.
 
Behind her, Brendan heaved a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his
forehead.
 
Elenna allowed herself a
moment to regather her nerves, then peered down at Adrien, now only fifteen
feet below her.

“I’ll
get you up out of there,” Elenna called down to his upturned face.
 
He nodded slowly.

“Elenna,”
Adrien said softly.
 
“I’m sorry I
searched your belongings without your permission.
 
I apologize for all of my actions and words that night.”

Elenna
paused and nodded sheepishly.
 
“I’m
sorry for my words too.”
 
She tied
off the rope around the jutting rock, and pulled on it with all her
strength.
 
The rock seemed sturdy
enough.
 
She dropped the other end
of the rope down to Adrien, and was pleased to see it dangle within inches of
his stretching hand.
 
“Come on up,”
she invited.
 
He grasped the rope
and pulled himself up, grunting with pain as his arm throbbed.
 
He reached the ledge in a few minutes
of effort and swung himself over the edge.
 
There he lay, panting with exhaustion.
 
Finally he sat up and turned to
Elenna.
 

She
ordered, “Rest a moment!” and he gladly complied.
 
She called back to Brendan, who was nearly beaming in
relief, “Keep going up the path.
 
We’ll meet you further up.”
 

Adrien
continued breathing heavily, and for the first time looked away from the rocks
around him to the view of the land around them.
 
His eyes widened at the magnificent sight.
 
The green land stretched to an impossibly
far horizon; the brilliant blue of the sky overhead gave him a sudden impulse
of weightlessness.
 
“Tis
beautiful.”

“Now
it is,” she sighed.
 
“It wasn’t
looking so good a few minutes ago.”

He
turned to face her, meeting her gaze for the second time in days.
 
“Thank you.”

“No
prob,” she shrugged.
 
She started
to turn to rise to her knees, but he laid a hand on hers to stop her.
 

He
paused, trying to find the right words.
 
“You saved my life.”

Elenna
smiled.
 
“I owed you one.
 
Let’s go.
 
Downhill is much more fun.”
 
She scrambled up the slope back to the crevasse, tied off
the rope, and waited for Adrien to follow.
 
In an few more hours they had reached the crest of the pass,
and were overjoyed to find that the other side of the mountain would be far
easier than their approach.
 
As
tired as they were, no one wanted to spend any more time on the mountain than
necessary, so they immediately started their descent.
 
They reached a passable camping spot before night fell, and
reached ground level the next day.

Chapter 35

 
They had now entered the Kingdom of
Emaas.
 
One of Adrien’s cousins had
married a high-ranking lady of the kingdom when he was a child.
 
Adrien thought that they would be able
to find shelter with him, if the attackers had not yet taken his fief.
 
He consulted his well-worn map, and turned
their party to the northwest.
 
They
spent almost a fortnight on their legs, crossing first forest then meadow
heading towards the river Cates.
 
They
followed it north, hoping to return to the main road soon. Elenna, who had
complained bitterly about the pains of horseback riding, wished fervently Bob
would come galloping back over the horizon.
 
Food was only what they could find or hunt, and the meadows
were not loaded with game.
 
Everyone tightened their belts and fantasized about their favorite
foods, until they reached the border of Adrien’s cousin’s fief.
 

The
fief still seemed prosperous; the fields were well-maintained, and the villages
they found were occupied.
 
They
risked a night in an inn to ask for news.
 
Passing as ordinary refugees, they heard tales of the battles in the
surrounding fiefs, and rumors of strange and terrible things.
 
Their fief, Willow in the Valley, had
not been touched by the monsters, though they had taken some of the neighboring
lands.
 
One old man, after the
gifts of several pints of ale, had told in a low hoarse voice of the White Army
he had seen pass in his home fief on the opposite border of Emaas.
 
Men in white riding horses, he told
them, with strange weapons at their side.
 
Driad, the Lord of the fief, still ruled from his city down the road a
bit.
 
Rumors said that the monsters
were afraid of his Allé-dônian connections.
 
Allé-dôn still stood against the invasion, though her forces
were not the might everyone had hoped for.
 
Adrien listened throughout the night to anyone who would
tell a tale, and lay silently in his bed staring at the ceiling until sunrise.

They
reached Driad’s house two days later, on tired old nags they had been able to
purchase at the inn.
 
None of them
had any reputable clothing left after their adventures; the guards eyed them
disbelievingly when Adrien asked for an audience with their Lord.
 
Finally, when Adrien was nearly to the
point of bringing Aréal to reveal his identity, one of the guards relented and
agreed to take a message.
  
A
few minutes later he returned, eyed Adrien with awe, and with a grand bow
ushered them through the front gate.
 
A house servant waited with a carriage to parade them down the main
street of the village.
 
Many of the
villagers rushed out of their houses to view the strangers with curiosity.
 
When the arrived at the front steps of
the house, a tall man with dark features bounded down the steps to the foot of
the carriage.
 
As Adrien alighted,
the man threw his arms around him and laughed out loud in joy.

“Cousin!
 
We thought you were gone to the next
lands.”
 
Adrien allowed his cousin
a short embrace, then stepped away.

“Tis
good to see you, Driad.” His cousin’s enthusiasm was not abated.

“I
had no idea you’d ever step foot through my door, Adrien.
 
‘Tis been years!
 
Brendan, I recognize you even though last
I saw you, you had not yet put a razor to your chin.
 
My Lady!”
 
He
bowed deeply.
 
Elenna studied his
expression.
 
When he finally
stilled for a moment, she could recognize a bit of Adrien in his grey eyes and
lean frame.
 
He smiled broadly,
ruining the resemblance, and reached for her hand.

“The
Lady Elenna,” Adrien offered brusquely.
 
Driad bowed again, and took her hand.
 

“Tis
an honor, my Lady.
 
Come
inside!”
 
He led the way into the
grand hall of the house.
 
His color
was a deep burgundy, evident in the elegant ornamentation of his
residence.
 
The hall was done in
rich materials, silks and deep plush velvet hangings on the walls and from the
high ceilings, almost hiding the stone block skeleton of the building
underneath.
 
There were no windows
here; the hall was lit by a collection of lamps and candles stacked on every
flat surface.
 
When all four were
assembled at the far end of the hall, the Lord of the House continued.
 
“I must demand news of your travels,
cousin!” He paused when he finally noticed the weary condition of his guests.
He continued smoothly, “but I’m sure you must be tired.
 
I’ll have my servants take you to your
rooms to freshen up.
 
I shall hold
my curiosity until the noon meal.”
 
A woman appeared in the doorway at his soft-spoken command, and was
asked to take them to their rooms.
 
Gratefully they reached their chambers in the guest wing of the house,
and soaked in the warm baths and fresh clothes their host was able to find on
short notice.

None
of the companions had a chance to speak until they were individually led again
downstairs to the dining hall for the evening meal.
 
Elenna was surprised at the style of the dress the young
servant girl had laid across her bed while she bathed.
 
The skirt was straight and rather
tight, with a train of about a foot dragging behind her as she made her first
awkward steps about the room.
 
The
color was the same neutral beige, but the material a soft lovely silk.
 
Still she had to take the smallest,
most unnatural steps, and she wandered unhappily the best way to descend a
staircase safely.
 
With the
guidance of her servant she learned to navigate her way through the obstacles
of the house to the dining hall, where she was according to local custom as a
Lady the last to arrive.
 
The men,
she noted with disdain, had a different style of clothing too, but much more
comfortable than hers.
 
Over their
shirts they wore high-necked tight velvet vests, in the same color as their
trousers and shirts.
 
Brendan’s was
the same shade of neutral beige, but Adrien as a close relation wore the
burgundy color of the house.
 
It
was the first time Elenna had ever seen him wear a color.
 
She blinked in surprise when she noted
he also wore the missing empty scarlet scabbard at his side.
 
He nodded at her entrance, but did not
pause in his conversation with their host.
 
Brendan hid a grin at her obvious uneasiness with her dress.

 
They dined alone with Driad.
 
Throughout dinner the conversation was
light and friendly.
 
Adrien asked
about his wife, Mamna.
 
“She has
gone to Evendor," his cousin replied.
 
“She had been a student there, and was asked to return for a
visit earlier in the winter.
 
Tis
too dangerous for her to travel home now.”
 
Driad sent for his two young daughters, who that night had
taken their meal in their nursery with their governess.
 
The strange dour visitor, as both a
royal and a new relative, was a bit overwhelming.
 
Both girls giggled nervously as they approached Adrien and
were presented.
 
He bowed slightly,
as they burst into nervous laughter and scrammed to the safety of the only
female in the room.
 
They pestered
Elenna with question after question until their father ordered them playfully
from the room.

“They
are at a strange age,” he mused as they returned to their governess’
custody.
 
“In a few years they will
marry and leave me, and I will miss them, I suppose, but I don’t quite know
what to do with them now.”

 
After their dishes were cleared away by
the servants and the glasses of wine were poured, the conversation turned more
serious.

“Adrien,”
the host accused, smiling.
 
“You
have been the source of much anxiety in Allè-dènè.
 
Your father has nearly lost his wits worrying about you.”
 
Adrien inquired about his family.
 
“Allé-dôn is still quite safe.
 
If you return, your father would
probably not take your hide, as he has threatened.”

“I’ve
no plans for return,” Adrien announced sternly.
 

His
cousin nodded.
 
“So all
believed.
 
So Allé-dôn has come for
you.
 
I’ve had a message delivered
for you not a fortnight ago.”

Adrien
frowned.
 
“A message for me?”

“I
was only one of many who received this letter for you.
 
The sender had a list of people he
believed you might see on your journey, and contacted all of us with his
communication.”

“Who
is the sender?”

“Tis
the Counselor of the Foreign, Tarien.”
 
This surprised Brendan and Adrien.
 
“He wishes to see you.”

“How…”

“He
has come West from Allè-dènè to find you.
 
I believe he has gone on to Roden to seek you, but one of my men could
find him and bring him here.”

An
expression of relief washed over Adrien’s face.
 
“I do wish to speak to him,” was his dispassionate reply.

“I
shall send a man tonight,” Driad answered.
 
“It is possible he can overcome the party before he leaves
our borders.”
 
The conversation turned
to the difficulties of travel, and the invasion of the monsters.
 
Driad’s land had not been badly harmed
yet, but his King had ordered all the men of the land to ready themselves for
battle.
 
Their neighbor, Roden, was
also still standing, though closer to the west and more likely a target for the
next wave of attacks.
 
Adrien and
Brendan listened intently to Driad’s descriptions of the King of Roden’s
efforts to guard his borders.
 
Adrien asked about the protections in place for the capital city, and
Elenna remembered suddenly that his future wife was the daughter of the
king.
 
She wandered if that would
be their next destination.
 
She
asked him later, after dinner had ended and the three travelers had wandered
together across the ornate hall to the sitting room.
 
Their host had left them alone pleading estate
business.
 
Adrien shrugged and
replied he wasn’t sure of their next destination.
 
He was in a rare mood; not happy, but sanguine.
 
Finding Tarien close at hand was a boon
from the Lady he had never expected.
 
He smoked a pipe thoughtfully as Brendan and Elenna bantered back and
forth.

They
remained at the house for several days in hopes of a parley with the
Allé-dônian Counselor.
 
Brendan
found himself without the companionship of his friends for much of the
time.
 
Adrien as usual kept to
himself or in conversation with his cousin, and after their first day, Elenna
was often nowhere to be seen.
 
She
laughed and refused to answer Brendan’s lighthearted investigation of her
doings, but she was usually in a buoyant mood when she reappeared.

On
the third day of their stay, the messenger returned with the news that the
Allé-dônian party traveled only a day behind him.
 
The servants were thrown into a flutter of activity
preparing for their arrival.
 
The Counselor
traveled with a party of soldiers for his protection, and his own personal
assistant.
 
They arrived in
midmorning, after a quiet but rushed breakfast.
 
Compared to their arrival, the greeting of the Counselor’s
party was a somber well-planned affair.
 
Red banners bearing the crest of Allé-dôn appeared out of nowhere on the
outer walls of the house; the servants wore new vibrantly-colored
uniforms.
 
Adrien had disappeared
after breakfast for a hasty fitting into clothes his cousin’s seamstress had assembled
the night before.
 
When the coach
bearing the new arrivals pulled up to the front of the house, Elenna found
herself again in her uncomfortable formal wear, standing next to Brendan in his
own family’s color along the top left side of the staircase, looking over the
heads of the house guards to an audience of awe-struck citizens lined up and
down the street.
 
The coach door
opened and an incredibly old man climbed down with the help of a footman.
 
Behind him a younger man leaped down
and gently took the old man’s arm.
 
Both wore long beige coats of a thin, soft material, but the old man’s
was embroidered at the hem with gold and red thread.
 
From the coach parked behind theirs issued Allé-dônian
soldiers in their battle wear.
 
Brendan felt a lump in his throat as he recognized some of the men from
his old battalion.