The Lord Son's Travels (62 page)

   
San nodded.
 
“I forget the Allè-dônian name for
it.
 
The stone has been held here
in the West for a long time.
 
Forgive my impertinence, but there was talk that someone there had
finally learned its full uses, and now I wonder if the proof sits at my
table.
 
Are you a traveler?” he
asked Elenna.
 
She froze in shock.
 

   
“I come from somewhere else,”
she acknowledged.
 

San shrugged, without much sense of
awe at her confession.
 
“I could
guess.
 
It was a traveler that gave
us the idea for many of the things that have pleased you tonight.
 
There hasn’t been any travelers for a
long time, though I think this new stranger in the West is one as well.”

“How
do you know about such things?” Adrien demanded in wonder.
 
Certainly no one else they had met in
their travels had this much knowledge, not even the most treasured records in Evendor.
  

“The
travelers have played a great role in our history,” the mayor answered.
 
“I don’t think the Allè-dônians ever
understood the stone’s purpose when they did control it.
  
How did you come here without
laying claim to it?”

“I
was brought here by Southlands, I think.” Elenna replied dourly.
 
“Without my permission, may I add.
 
We think he's used the stone multiple
times to abduct people and bring other objects.
 
From somewhere else.”

“Certainly
some other place.
 
That is the
purpose of the stone – to allow movement between the creations.
  
Our founder Eva left it with her
people when she no longer needed it to move between her worlds, before she returned
again to her own home.”

The
mayor continued his explanation. “Those of you in the east may think of her as
far above and holy, but we know that she did not create us, only the land in which
we live.
 
She was as human as all
of us, just merely advanced in knowledge beyond our own.”
 

“You
say the Lady of All was merely human?” Adrien asked incredulously.
 
“You speak blasphemy!”
 
Elenna startled at his vehemence.
 
He pursed his lips as he gazed at each
of the strangers in the room, gauging their response to his words.
 
The men were also surprised by his
anger at their wicked speech.
 
Evidently they did not honor the Lady of All in this land.
 
Adrien quickly retracted his idea to
perhaps someday reconnect formal relations.
Allè-dôn
would never recognize any land whose people had fallen away from proper worship
of the Lady Eva.
 
Only the dread
for the fate of his own kingdom, and the help these strangers could offer kept
Adrien from storming away from this cursed town.
 
Now, the thought flickered quickly across his awareness, he
knew why so much of the land had been decimated in the past.
 
The Lady had rightfully punished them
for their denial of her place of honor.
 
Elenna was right; the things he had seen were not true magic, certainly
not gifts from the hands of the Lady.
  
They could claim they developed these ideas on their
own, but his suspicions of their true allegiances grew.
 
“Why has Southlands not attacked here?”

San
shrugged again.
 
“He did.
 
We rousted his monsters out easily, and
since then he’s left us alone in peace.
 
This was a year ago; I believe he did not expect us to have as strong
defenses.
 
Since that time he has
grown much more powerful and more interested in other places.
 
I would venture that he comes from a
creation much more advanced at machinery.”
 
He turned to Elenna, whose reflective twitching of her lips
was confirmation.
 

The
mayor misread the traveler's resulting silence as fatigue, and offered to show them
to their room.
 
They acquiesced
with gratitude.
 
As exhausted as
they were, even Adrien's growing distrust didn't keep them from both falling
immediately in deep sleep for the first time in weeks.
 

Chapter 58

In
the morning, they woke with the sun streaming in the large clear glass
windows.
 
The family was downstairs
when they entered the cookery; the mayor and his wife greeted them warmly and
confirmed they had slept in comfort.
 
Their three children only stared at them with a mix of awe and terror.
 
The mayor was careful not to continue
the conversation about the Lady Eva and her origins, but the damage had already
been done.
 
The visiting royal had
grown very polite and even more distant, while his wife had tampered down her
displays of enthusiasm for their technology.
  
Elenna had tried to approach the topic lightly as she
and her husband shared the sink and mirror that morning while dressing.
 
He had shut her down with a coldness
reminiscent of their first days together, when she had thought him the scariest
man alive.
 
So she shoved that idea
in her mental box of 'things to talk about after surviving this war' and
focused again on the problems at hand.

After
breakfast, the mayor escorted them to the parlor to continue their arrangements
for the coming days.
 
He offered to
arrange for volunteers to travel to Roden to aid in the battle there, with as
many of their high technology weapons as they could arrange on short notice.
 
“We have always talked about opening
communication with our neighbors, and in these times it is best for all good
people to stay together.”
 

Adrien
accepted his offer of aid for Roden, telling himself that it did not mean he
condoned their heathen beliefs.
 
He
told himself that King Erik would agree with his decision.
 

The
mayor kept to business.
 
"What
needs do you have for your continued journey west?"

“Speed,”
Adrien replied shortly.
 

The
mayor agreed.
  
“I know a
guide who has traveled near and far.
 
She’s a bit brusque, but you’ll not find a better scout.
 
Meanwhile my wife can take you to the
best shops to supply yourselves, and I will meet you later with the
guide.”
 
He named an inn near the
shopping district as the rendezvous point.
 
The
Allè-dôn
ians
gathered their few possessions, and followed San’s wife Lissa to the crowded
shopping street.
 

By
noon they had acquired respectable gear for travel.
 
Elenna was surprised that none of the shopkeepers seemed
surprised by her purchase of men’s breeches and boots for the hard road ahead.
 
Of course, gossip had spread quickly
about their arrival; they were recognized everywhere as the Allé-dônian royals
and welcomed graciously.
  
No
one demonstrated any concerns about the propriety of the Lady taking the
difficult journey.
 
Apparently, she
thought with pleasure, the culture here was more advanced in many ways.
 

She
and Adrien separated for part of their afternoon, and she took advantage of the
time to do something she had considered even as far back as Arden.
 
When they reunited for noon meal in the
otherwise empty public room at the inn, she was wearing a cap.
 
She studied Adrien’s expression closely
as she removed it to reveal her hair only inches long, and returned to her
natural color.
 
Involuntarily he
took a step back, but he recovered quickly enough for the corners of his mouth
to rise in bemusement.

“The
length is most practical for our plans,” he allowed.
 
But he added with some trepidation, “I hope it will grow
again to a proper length before our return to Allé-dôn, for the shock may be
too much for the Court to bear.”
 
He
touched the rambunctious curls gently, and allowed his fingers to drift forward
to gently enclose her chin.
 
He
kissed her, first chastely, then more vigorously as she responded.

Elenna
pulled back only so that she could appreciate the way his features had softened
with affection.
 
She had so few
opportunities to see her husband at peace and without the habitual frown that
was the mark of his heavy responsibilities.
  

He
was smiling now as he appreciated her new hairstyle.
 
“All will see the magic of the color as a sign from Lady Eva
you were chosen to join me on my quest.” He added softly, mostly to
himself.
 
“I think that was my
greatest fear when we met.”

Elenna
blushed a little at his admission.
 
The moment was too soon interrupted by the approach of their guide.
 
Both of their attentions were drawn
towards the slight, middle-aged woman bustling in through the swinging set of
pub doors on a direct path towards them.
 
She wore similar traveling clothes as Elenna, but hers had already seen
service in the field, judging by the myriad of tears and stains on her thick
leather boots and britches.
 
She
had a belt slung low and comfortably on her hips, with a pistol attached on
each side in well-worn leather holsters.
 
Across her back was a sling for what appeared to be an unusually
engineered crossbow.
 
She met their
gazes directly as she stepped up
 
between them.

“I
am Serra. You are the Allé-dônians?” she asked, her voice low and even. Adrien
nodded.
 
She barely acknowledged
him, turning instead to Elenna.
 
She studied the Lady closely, noting the brand new traveling clothes,
more practical then she had supposed the traveling royal would pick, and
especially the short hair.
 
Several
of the color rules had dissipated since the city's separation from the rest of
the Eastlands.
 
Without royalty,
there was nothing special here about the color red, and Elenna's ginger curls
didn't cause any resulting fervor on that account.
 
Serra's eyes held a trace of a glint of approval at the
unusual but practical length.
 
She
turned around to analyze their organized piles of supplies all ready to be
bagged and loaded on mounts for departure.
 
Less gear than she had imagined they would insist on taking;
everything they had chosen was high quality and useful with no obvious omissions.

“Where
are your weapons?” she demanded.
 
Her tone was slightly triumphant, as if she hadn’t expected them to
think of such things.
 
Adrien gave
a quick explanation of Neda Alia.
 
She listened intently, having heard tales of the legend in her youth.
 
When he had finished, her impassiveness
had subsided into the beginnings of respect.

“Good,
then you both have some fighting skills.”

This
caused Elenna to chortle loudly.
 
“We've had some practice,” she retorted, causing their guide to turn to
her and offer her first real smile in payment for her offense.
 

“I’ve
heard the tales.
 
But the real
dangers of your journey are just starting, Lady.
 
We should leave now if you are ready.
 
I’ve been told you want speed.”
 
They agreed.

A
gathering had formed by the stables from which they had planned to depart.
 
Elenna argued for taking one of the
wagons, but their guide had quickly vetoed the idea, explaining that the roads
ahead were far too rough for a city-styled vehicle.
 
A couple of groomsmen were on stand by to help, but the
royals did all of their own packing.
 
With the amount of camping equipment as well as their own bags that they
had carried with them, it became obvious that in order to take everything they
would need a pack horse as well on this leg of the journey.
  
So Adrien ruthlessly pared down
the inventory until everything could be safely carried between the three of
them.
 

 
When all of the equipment was stowed on
the horses and they had mounted for their departure, they rode out of the
stables to realize a few of the citizens had lined up outside to offer quiet
wishes for their success.
 
Many of
them would send brothers, sons, and husbands off the next morning to war in a
far land based on the stories of these foreigners.
 
So they watched and were reassured by the quiet dignity of
the riders trotting through the streets of the town to the road heading
West.
 
None of the three riders spoke
but instead kept their eyes focused straight ahead, trying to avoid the
measuring gaze of the people they passed.

By
sunset they far out of the settlement and well on their way to the border with
Southland's holds.
 
After a short
discussion, they decided to press on riding a few more hours.
 
Though relieved slightly by the army
that would set forth for Roden in the morning, Adrien still could not rest
while fears for the comrades they had left there were still unsettled.
 
Serra said nothing, but set a hard pace
she was pleased to see the foreigners keep up without complaint.
 
Both of the royals kept their still
painful injuries to themselves, though both had secretly and independently
purchased pain-treating ointments that morning during their shopping, and
applied doses whenever they thought their spouse would not detect them.

They
stopped when the horses were too fatigued to continue without risk of injury,
when the moon was already far above the horizon.
 
They were still in territory Serra deemed safe, so they felt
confident lighting a fire to cook their dinner.
 
When they were full and peacefully reclined in half-slumber,
Adrien rose to his feet and brusquely ordered his wife to follow.
 
She frowned vigorously, then
reluctantly obeyed when she saw Aréal in his grasp.
 
Married or not, he outranked her when it came to all things
military, and she was expected to follow his commands as if she were any other
Allè-dôn
ian soldier.
 
He intended for them to follow their old
traveling routine of practice every evening.
 
They needed their skills at their sharpest for what battles
still lay ahead in the future.
 
So
Serra observed as they sparred, at first cursing at their own clumsiness caused
by their lack of practice for several days. Then they regained their normal
level of comfort with their blades.
 
The guide said nothing until they had both dropped to the ground near
her, wiping sweat from their brows and vigorously debating their techniques.

Serra
leaned forward to regard them both with frank admiration.
 
“I’ve never before seen masterful
fighting such as I saw here tonight.
 
But why do you use antiquated weapons and manner?
 
Have you no modern equipment?”

Adrien
scowled, his eyes piercing in his anger.
 
“More of the evil of this world has met its end on the points of the
Neda Alia than the cowardly weapon you bear.
 
Keep your words for our direction of travel, not for what is
none of your concern.”
 
He stormed
off, angrily pushing low-lying branches out of his way as he passed.
 
Elenna apologized to their guide for
his rudeness and excused herself to find him perched on a fallen tree trunk,
glowering at the ground in front of him.

“Glad
to see you haven’t lost all of your rough edges,” she greeted, taking a seat
next to him on the rotting stump.
 
He glanced at her, eyes somber with the remnants of his anger.

“She
is as arrogant as the rest of her people,” he declared.

Elenna
agreed.
 
“They think they are
something special, don’t they?
 
I
hope I was never that smug about my knowledge…”

He
disagreed earnestly.
 
“You spoke so
rarely about your home… it is very similar to this land?”

She
noted the wistfulness in his tone.
 
But she answered honestly, “My home is much more advanced then they
are.
 
We have… well, I really can’t
describe too much without getting bogged down in the details.
 
Suffice it to say they would be
completely astounded by my home.”
 
His face softened as he acknowledged her answer.
 
She gripped his hand tightly in hers
and smiled brightly.
  
“With
all their advanced weapons, we’re the ones who have been out there fighting
this war.
 
No matter how much they
brag, it’s a sword they’re following.
 
An Allé-dônian sword.”

Adrien
reached out with his other hand to stroke her cheek.
 
“Your words are good and right.”
 
He kissed her, his expression delighted as he retreated.
 
“I am very pleased you are now
Allé-dônian.”