The Half Elven Orphan #32

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

A New Friend

A few hours later she was feeling mostly refreshed. She didn’t really need to meditate more than three or four hours to feel fully rested. She sometimes made it all the way to six hours if she had really exerted herself and even then it was more of an indulgence than a necessity. It was how she found the time to cavort around Westmarch forests at night. She tried to determine what time it was, eventually deciding it was a little after noon. The sky was mostly overcast, but it hadn’t rained and she thought she was completely dry now, which was pleasant. She realised she was still sitting next to the priestess, Myrthe.

“Good afternoon sleepy head. That must have been quite the night. You sleep a little funny, you know? Like you’re meditating or something. Your eyes don’t really close and sometimes you seem to look around. Your eyes move around. It’s… funny.”

Myrthe was more observant than Ala would have given her credit for. She decided she should pay a little more attention to the girl as she rummaged through her pack for some food.

“It’s a trick I picked up. I find it refreshes me as well as sleeping.”

It was worth making an attempt to keep up the ruse, she decided. She offered Myrthe a piece of the hard honey and nut bread she had found in her bag.

“Oh, thank you. So, really? They say elves sleep like that. Or don’t really sleep. Didn’t realise half-elves did too.”

“I’m not sure all of them can, actually.”

“That’s interesting. You look like a fire elf and you rest like elves do. Now as unlikely as all that may be, I wasn’t born yesterday, though I suppose it might seem that way. For some reason people often underestimate me, I don’t really know why. Or… no… I guess I do know… but that’s beside the point right now. What was I saying?”

“Err… I don’t know?” Ala tried.

“Oh yes you do. Now, I’ve even read some books about elves. Lots, really. I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I don’t think you’re going to be able to pass as a half-elf among well travelled folk, Alagariel.”

Ala looked at her, shocked. Bernard had known at once too. He had had thirty years of campaigns to teach him about the world though. Myrthe was around nineteen as far as Ala could tell.

“Uhm… You’re very perceptive, Priestess. Please… don’t point that out to everyone. I’m not sure what my reception will be like.”

“Don’t worry too much. People dislike what they don’t understand, but I don’t think people really treat elves with much more prejudice than they might any foreigner.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.”

“Travellers are usually tolerant, at least, they’re a type of foreigner too, usually, right? Common folk can be nastier. I’m fascinated though. I haven’t heard of anyone seeing a fire elf in years… even centuries maybe? There’s plenty of earth, metal and water elves around. Or well, plenty might be an exaggeration, but they’re there. I know where there are wood elves too though I think humans seldom see them. They tend to keep their distance from humans though don’t they? For a Fire Elf folk would probably come out to gawk. I can see how that wouldn’t be very nice, so I promise I won’t tell anyone, OK? Not that I’d be all too worried, you don’t look enough different from other elves for most people to realise you don’t fit well with any of the common subspecies. Now, the other way round, if people heard there was a fire elf about, well, you might draw a crowd, I think.”

Ala considered making the case that she was just a metal elf that happened to look a little like a fire elf. She decided she didn’t want to hide any more and Myrthe… she really liked the young priestess, she realised. She wasn’t going to pretend, she decided.

“You seem to be… very… well-educated and kind, Priestess. Thank you. I’m glad we met.”

“Me too. Please do call me Myrthe though, it all feels so formal otherwise. Unless we’re doing something official or ceremonial of course. I am having a whole different feeling about this Sojourn since this morning. Maybe it’s going to be more fun and interesting than terrifying after all.”

Ala smiled. Could she have found a friend? She tried not to think about Myrthe growing old as she watched. She resolved to not think about it and just focus on what time there was. It took a conscious force of will, but she pushed the inevitable to the back of her mind.

“You’re right of course. I think I am a Fire Elf.”

“You ‘think’ you are?”

“It’s a long story. First, would you tell me about the other kinds of elves? I’ve never met one. I only know one half-elf and she’s as clueless about elves as I am. She never even met her father. He may not even know she exists. If I have ever met an elf it was when I was very young, and what memories I have are more like dreams than anything else.”

“Really? That’s unusual. I always learned that elves tended to stay near to at least some of their own kind… on account of the ageing, you know? I can’t imagine it’s easy going for an elf to grow up among humans.”

“It can be a little depressing,” Ala agreed.

“I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t all that much.”

“Please do, all I know about elves is what I’ve been able to glean from passing travellers. I’d love to hear anything you might know.”

“Really, these days the main thing to tell elves apart is their complexions though that isn’t completely reliable… except for Water elves… they generally look so exotic that it’s hard to be wrong. Or… well I suppose if you saw a water elf that didn’t have exotic pigments you wouldn’t know it was one. So I should probably say that if you see an elf with wild colouring, particularly blues and greens, it’s almost certainly a water elf.”

“OK, I’ve heard a little about water elves before, but your… ehm… recognition guide… makes sense.”

“You know what I find strange? Elves breed true, except when they’re mixed with humans.”

“Breed true? What does that mean?”

“Well, if a water elf had children with an earth elf, their children are either water elves or earth elves, not a mixture of the features of both, like with humans. Or well… I think the features might mix a bit, but it’s always a full blooded member of only one sub species.”

“I didn’t realise that. My… mentor, back in Thetwick, Bernard told me of far off elven realms, like Water, Wood and Earth. He’d never been to one though. Do they really exist?”

“I don’t know. I have never been there either. There are books by travellers who have visited. The Kingdom of Water certainly exists. Wood too… that’s another elven Kingdom. I don’t think humans are allowed there – Wood that is. I think anyone can visit Water. I think those two border each other, making up a small continent called Alfheim, just North of eastern Iurrak. I’d also say that Earth definitely exists. It borders Selinus to our Northwest, so we don’t have too much interaction with them in Iurrak. Metal is far to the Southwest, beyond Selinus and even Dwarfholme. I’ve never spoken to anyone who has been there I don’t think, but I wouldn’t really call that a very good reason to assume it doesn’t exist. Then there’s Fire, the legend is that that can’t be entered at all – a cursed land, they say. I think it was south of Selinus. southwest of the Orck Mountains, even.

“Fire is cursed?”

“That’s what they say. Those books I read are mostly hundreds of years old. So, just a little out of date. Though, when dealing with people who live for a thousand years, concepts like ‘out of date’ become a little troublesome. Still worth a read, though. But I do know that you can still visit Water, at least and probably Earth too. But… damn it, you’re interrupting my lecture. Where was I?”

“Reproduction, I think. I’m sorry, do go on.”

“Oh yes. Well, mostly the elves I know of live among humans, sometimes they tend to stay together in a section of town, or maybe a village, but most of the elves I’ve seen or heard about live in human settlements. Elves don’t have very many children so the population isn’t very big and hardly grows if at all. Other than that, you’re just like very good looking, long-lived, thoughtful and patient humans mostly. The stories say that each elven sub type had or has magical abilities related to their background, but recent scholars have said those are just myths. Some of those scholars are even elves themselves. Also, I’ve read scholars who vehemently disagree, but they tend not to be written by elves, so, which to believe, ay? ‘Recent’ seems to be a flexible term though in scholarly circles. But, then again, I suppose to an elf, a century might well be recent. Anyway, maybe it’s all just a big conspiracy to hide elven abilities? Who knows? Bit far fetched, but life is stranger than fiction.”

“What sort of magic did they used to have then?”

“Well, it’s obvious really. Fire elves can control fire, water elves can breathe underwater or something. Maybe they can manipulate it, like waves and things. Earth elves can feel the earth… a bit like dwarves can really. But that’s a real ability, not just a myth. Metal elves could bend steel, some say there were metal elves that couldn’t be cut by steel weapons and could cause steel tipped arrows to fall out of the sky or reverse direction. I don’t think that’s true either. It’s all things like that.”

“Dwarves can really feel the earth?”

“Well, it’s not like a magical ability with sparks and lightning or anything. Not like a proper wizard. It’s just they know where to dig to sink a well or to build a tunnel or to find ore. That kind of thing. But that’s not about elves, don’t make me digress.”

“Sorry. Please continue.”

“Do you always digress like this? I thought you wanted to hear about elves?”

“I want to know all you can tell me.”

“I was quite a good student. Teaching you everything I know would take as least as I took to learn it… It could take twenty years, far too long!”

Ala just looked at her, raising her eyebrows a tiny bit.

“Oh right… yes… I suppose that wouldn’t matter all that much to you.”

“Whenever you want to share, I’d love to listen, I didn’t have very good teachers,” Ala said softly.

Myrthe smiled, “oh okay, I suppose digressing makes less of a difference too then. Where were we?”

“Dwarves I think… and wizards. They sound interesting too.”

“Not all that many wizards around either. Not as rare as fire elves, though I think the closest human wizard of any power may well live in Erythrae. Or maybe Sarghoun. Though they often don’t advertise their presence. On account of the superstition, you know. There may well be a few, who don’t advertise. Actually, I’m almost certain there must be.”

“Sarghoun, that’s the capital of Selinus, isn’t it?”

“Yes, now don’t interrupt all the time.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t know much of what goes on in Selinus. I don’t think anyone here does… but… I wasn’t done talking about wizards yet. The Duke, you know, of Taladaria? He has a court wizard. I don’t think he’s much good. Comes from a wizarding school down south somewhere or so he says. Aqaba I think. More wizards there, as I understand it. Slaves too.”

Ala was shocked, “they keep slaves? That’s… that’s awful.”

“Yes, lots of them, quite normal in Aqaba. They have a sort of indentured servitude in Selinus that isn’t much different. You could even argue that the lowliest serf’s aren’t really free either, even in Iurrak.”

Ala had never known about that either, suppressing her desire to express her disgust as Myrthe continued. She wasn’t aware of that kind of servitude in the Westmarch. She wasn’t really sure why the idea was so repugnant to her. Perhaps it was something instilled in her even before she came to Thetwick?

“I don’t think there’s anything like that in the Westmarch?”

“No, the Westmarch is different, there’s a sort of charter. The Westmarch is a bit of an odd case, it wasn’t part of Taladaria and therefore Iurrak until quite a short time ago. The title is personal, and the customs and rights associated with it are as they always were. So no indenture there. I think some of the inhabitants actually live there because they wanted to escape their indenturement.”

“Really? I never knew.”

“Anyway, back to the Duke’s court wizard. The story is that he burnt down a kitchen trying to boil water. I assume what really happened was a bit more complicated that that, but that’s the way the story is told among the commoners. So, good wizards are hard to find nowadays, at least in the north. They tend to be a little reclusive too, probably because people feel uneasy about magic.”

“Just uneasy?”

“I suppose you have a point. They do get themselves into frenzies over witches and the like, from time to time. Bad things, like lynchings and burning people at the stake, happen every now and again. Normally it happens to poor dumb souls who have no appreciable magic to speak of, I think.”

“I can see that happening in Thetwick.”

“So there may be a few more wizards trying to be invisible, but it won’t be much. Proper wizarding is far more common in elves, though they have a different philosophy of how to apply it. I think the only actual community of wizards there is to speak of in all of Iurrak is their Guild in Erythrae.”

Ala sighed, “I have so much to learn. I think I stayed in Thetwick too long.”

“So how… uhm… old are you? If it isn’t too impolite to ask?”

“I don’t mind. I don’t really know. I was found by one of the Duke’s patrols, near what was probably an ambush site. As far as I’ve been able to work out that was maybe a century and a half ago. It didn’t really occur to me to start counting until I was in Thetwick for… probably a few decades. I was very young when I arrived. Perhaps a decade more, by now. I don’t know much else.”

Myrthe’s mouth opened in shock.

“You’re more than one and a half centuries old? I mean… I know… well… I read the books… but still… you look… maybe… twenty, if that, if you were human?”

Ala shrugged, “I don’t know how old I was when I arrived. I think in total it’s probably more like two centuries. Though I’ve never been able to learn much about elven children and how they age, so I could be wrong.”

Myrthe shook her head, “wow. It’s so… strange… to just be sitting next to you like it’s normal. Two hundred years ago it was a different world!”

“Was it? Thetwick was just a hamlet when I first arrived there, that’s true, but things haven’t changed all that much.”

“No… I suppose your perspective on that would be a little different.”

“I wish I knew who my parents were.”

“You have no idea?”

“None. All I have is some fragments of a cloak and a sword sheath. Oh, and this sword of course, though it was damaged. It was just a blade and quillons. I repaired the rest.”

“That isn’t much, but maybe you can find elves who can help? Elves live so long that I’d think that’s by far your best chance of learning something.”

“I should meet other elves, you’re probably right about that. Someone must remember something. Maybe I can even find some fire elves?”

“No one has seen a fire elf for a long time, that I know of. Until today, I guess. Maybe they’re all hiding in the elven lands? You’d be better off talking to an actual elf about that, I’m sure. Preferably an old one who lives in an elven realm. Elves who live among humans are never going to be up to date on what’s happened. Some of them have been away from other elves for centuries too. If your disguise worked better in Thetwick, I’m probably one of a handful of humans who has actually realised they’re talking to a real fire elf in a long time… centuries maybe?”

“A few people in Thetwick did know, even before I did.” Ala said, thinking of Gabriel, Bernard and Palady.

“Before you did?”

“I grew up believing I was a half-elf, until recently in fact.”

“That’s really wild. Being in the know sounds like an exclusive club though,” she giggled, “what are you going to do in Peyrepertuse? That is where you’re going I take it? There’s little else of consequence between there and here. If I may ask?”

“There’s no secret. My… err, adoptive uncle, mentor, whatever – he was the Captain of the Thetwick militia – passed away a few days ago. He made me his heir, he never had children of his own. There’s an unpleasant man in Thetwick who is contesting his will.”

“Your mentor was a militia Captain? Thetwick is one of the border towns that the last Duke meant to strengthen with better militias? It must be then. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes, that’s right. You know about that?”

“My father keeps up with things concerning Taladaria’s defence and used to insist on telling me about it,” she shrugged, “but if your, err, mentor was so important in Thetwick, how is it that this man is causing you such problems?”

“He’s the Constable of Thetwick.”

“Oh, I see. That certainly complicates things.”

“I’m trying to get to the Duke’s court. Hopefully I can prove the Constables version of the will is a forgery. That will also prove he’s corrupt at the same time. That man has deserved the gallows for a long time. In fact, that whole family has been rotten for generations,” Ala said, thinking of previous Constables as well as Gordon Marchmain.

“How… oh… of course… you’ve known him your… no his… whole life.”

“Yes, well he’s got a lot to lose. His father was a corrupt bastard too and his father’s father… his uncle is a murderer.”

“A murderer?”

“Happened about twenty years ago. He managed to get away though, fled the Westmarch. Presumably with the Constable’s help.”

“It keeps on amazing me that you knew all these people… no you probably saw them born and then grow old. You talk about something that happened when I was an infant as if it was yesterday. It’s amazing!”

“Anyway, that’s why I asked you to watch the road. I recognised some of the Constable’s men at the Ford Inn. He sent them to catch up to me. He has got to stop me getting to the Duke’s court to save his neck.”

“If what you’re saying is true and can be reasonably proven, I think the Duke will be forced to investigate, at least. How far do you think this Constable will go?”

“I doubt he’s above murdering me to stop me. I’ve heard some really nasty tales about him over the years. He is the most powerful man in Thetwick town since Bernard passed away but his influence doesn’t really stretch outside of the Westmarch, as far as I know.”

She glanced back down the road. Nothing to be seen.

“He sent men after you?”

“Yes. He is probably doing anything he can to make sure I can’t get to Peyrepertuse.”

“If he has as much to lose as you say you need to be very careful in Peyrepertuse too. He will have messengers on the way there as well. There’s reputed to be a thieves guild in Duilhac that’s happy to take assassination contracts. If he’s so worried, what’s to stop him from sending a fast runner to get ahead of you? One of these caravans moves very slowly. He could easily put out a contract on you.”

“I know. Well… I know I wouldn’t necessarily be safe in Duilhac. The Thieves Guild, I didn’t know. I’ll just have to take extra care. First things first though, I’m more worried about the right to bear arms at the moment. I can’t exactly ride around the countryside like a knight errant. I have two very valuable blades with me that mean a lot to me. I couldn’t bear to lose them. That’s why I joined this caravan. I needed to be on the master’s charter as a guard so I can legally be armed.”

“Well, maybe we should stick together for now. I could kind of use someone nearby who knows their way around a sword as it turns out. I’d prefer not to get raped like almost happened last night and perhaps I can help you here and there as well.”

“You almost got raped? At Hightower? That’s terrible!”

“Yes. Well. Guanshiyin lets you hear the cries of the world in many ways. I got away from them, let’s leave it at that. But that’s not the point. I am of noble blood and failing all else I could carry the blades for you if we have to leave the caravan…”

“Really? You’re a Lady? Lady Myrthe… I’ve never really met a noble before.”

“I’m the youngest of five siblings and, of course, a daughter. Sent off to the temple for the crime of being redundant. That’s what it feels like, anyway. Not that I’m really complaining, there’s a lot of learning and a lot of freedom in Guanshiyin’s faith. But before you make me digress again. The important point, when it comes to bearing arms, is that my father is the Baron of Easthall.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say… and… I’m being so familiar with you. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Of course not. In fact, it’s one of the nicest things about being a Priestess. People act a lot more normally. Still, the family thing is good for something every now and again. We don’t use our titles when in the service of Guanshiyin though, it’s not permitted by the High Priests, at least not in official things. Sometimes people say things like ‘Lady Priestess’ but we’re not allowed to do it to each other.”

Myrthe stopped speaking and looked thoughtful for a second before continuing, “technically, I suppose I could even write a charter allowing you to carry weapons as my man-at-arms…. elf-at-arms? I’ve never done that, but I guess I’m allowed to. I’ve never really considered it before… I don’t think it’s a customary thing for female nobles to do, but I don’t think anyone can stop me. It feels a little… irregular for a Priestess…” Myrthe giggled to herself again, “not completely sure what the high priestess would have to say about me having like a mercenary bodyguard. It must also be a bit irregular for a Priestess of Guanshiyin to be accompanied by a man-at-arms… elf-at-arms. Oh well, who cares? I’m the one on Sojourn, not her.”

Myrthe’s attitude appealed to Ala.

“Well I promise to protect you as well as I can until we get to Peyrepertuse. It might be an idea to write that charter though, last night I almost needed one in a hurry.”

“Guanshiyin’s teachings say that the Sojourn is about hearing the cries of the world. It’s okay to protect yourself and compassion is not the same as letting people rape you, even if compassion can be something you do physically.”

“Physical compassion? What does that mean?”

“From what I’ve read, it’s whatever is needed. Guanshiyin is very pragmatic. Anyway, I’ll write a right to bear arms for you first chance I get. When we’re not in a moving wagon, that is.”

The caravan stopped around midday to water and feed the oxen. Myrthe helped Ala look after Fulgor. Ala bought some extra oats from the caravan master to make sure Fulgor got the energy he needed. He was a tall black horse with a long black mane and feathering around his hooves. Myrthe whispered to him and he was friendly, which was out of character for him. He didn’t get along with anyone other than Ala normally.

“He likes you. That makes you the first human he likes, I think.”

“I like him too. He’s beautiful. Any knight would be proud to have him. He must be very valuable. Is he really yours?”

“Yes, I used almost all the silver in my inheritance to buy him. Even so, I think Harald was probably nice about the price. Though I don’t think anyone but me actually likes riding him. They all say he’s such a handful. I used to ride for the horse breeders in Thetwick. Their war horses need to be fit. I was a popular exercise rider. Eventually they let me train them too.”

“You must be quite the equestrian then.”

“I think horses just like the sound of elven, to be honest. It calms them. Makes it easy.”

“You speak elven then?”

“I only get to practice on animals, but yes, I remember the language. I can even read it, though I have no idea how or when I learned. I’m worried I have the most awful accent. Now you’re making me digress.”

“Oh, sorry. Do go on.”

“Well, it’s how I met Fulgor here. Been looking after him since he was a foal. He never got along with anyone but me. He cost me most of my inheritance, but I didn’t want to leave him behind.”

“Well, your adoptive uncle wasn’t a poor man then. There are proper knights who couldn’t afford a horse like him. It makes sense to fight for his inheritance if there are lands too.”

“Does it? I’m not so sure. I think I was only staying in Thetwick because I knew that compared to my life, the few more years left to Bernard wouldn’t really matter. I wanted to stay with him… until the end. He deserved that much, my life in Thetwick would have been awful without him. He took me in, always provided anything I needed. I’m not really sure it would have been bearable… or safe without him. I’m only really going after this whole inheritance because Bernard wished me to take care of his lands. I’ll probably entrust it to Harald if I manage to sort it all out.”

“Harald?”

“Just a good man I’ve known all his life. He’s the man who bred Fulgor. Known him since he was very young. His father died in the first real skirmish I was in, with raiders from Oakharrow.”

“You fought in this skirmish?” said Myrthe, looking concerned.

“Yes. It was the first time I really had to fight.”

“And how old is this Harald?”

“Somewhere in his forties, I guess.”

“That’s so.. elven. Interesting that even one and half centuries among humans doesn’t really change that. I wonder if it’s inherent in such a long lifespan. So what happens after you’ve set things up with Harald? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know? Offer my sword to the Duke? Seek out other elves? I don’t know. One thing at a time.”

“But maybe you have an idea what sort of life you’d like? Like I chose Guanshiyin and priesthood?”

“My only point of reference is how the people of Thetwick lived their lives. It never really appealed to me. There’s more out there, I’ve heard that much from travellers.”

“Oh that’s certainly true. I’ve mostly only travelled around Taladaria, but even there there’s all sorts of things from farmers to hunters and sailors. Soldiers who defend when the Orcks come down. There’s lots of places that can always use someone who knows there way around a sword.”

“I suppose… I’d also really like to solve the mystery of who I am and where I’m from. I don’t really want to watch the humans I love grow old and die… not too often, anyway, I don’t think I could bear that.”

“That must be very hard. But, you have some direction then, which I think is good. I’m already curious what you will discover!”

After the meal, the caravan got back on the road. They continued to chatter the rest of the day, getting to know each other and getting along very well. No nasty horsemen appeared behind them that day. There were farmsteads off the road on either side where you could exchange horses if you could afford it. Perhaps her pursuers had done that. That could put them ahead of her, they might have overtaken the caravan at one of the points where the road made long loops up a hill. Riders had a lot of opportunities for short cuts in the hairpin bends and often used them. Ala suspected there would be a confrontation before she ever got to Peyrepertuse.

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The Half Elven Orphan #31

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

The Priestess’ Sojourn

Fulgor was fitter and more energetic than Norbert’s horses, his stamina had always been superior to most other steeds. He would easily outlast the nags Norbert and his crew were outfitted with. She rode as hard as she dared and hoped the Customs Officers were being very thorough in their questioning. She rode for Hightower, the first caravan stop in Taladaria. Getting there riding a single spirited stallion wasn’t hard even if he was tired. She was a lot lighter than the knights he was bred to transport into battle. After some hours riding through the low brush that was to either side of the road, the sun started to rise ahead of her. It painted a pretty picture in the sky with reds and yellows. There had been rain recently, making the area smell of spring. She didn’t come across another living soul until she was almost at Hightower, when she saw some people out who were probably off to tend to fields or similar chores.

The caravan stop was near where the rough road from the Westmarch joined the King’s Road that led north along the Iceflow river towards Pearson. The King’s Road also led southeast in the direction of Peyrepertuse, passing by Turnow and Kilbrook. There was another small settlement, primarily for caravans, along the road before Turnow, she knew. It was named Larkhill, but she had never been there. It was at about a day’s travel by ox drawn wagon from Hightower. Bernard had once explained to her that that it was common along well travelled roads to find facilities that catered to the needs of caravans roughly one day’s oxcart ride apart.

There was a large farmstead at Hightower. It too mainly existed to see to the needs of passing caravans and travellers. It was another chartered inn, with all the customary obligations such establishments had, but it also had all sorts of facilities. There was an ancient, more or less standing, fortified tower, which was what the hamlet was named for. The tower was much older than the rest of the buildings and even at a distance it looked like it was in dire need of maintenance. As she rode closer she could see the tower was actually the last part of a larger structure and the only part that was still standing.

By the time she got to Hightower the sun had risen fullyt and most travellers were already on their way. The fresh tracks leading away from the paddock were clearly visible and most of the yard was empty. She considered for a moment. She was tired but she needed to keep moving to stay ahead of her pursuers. She decided on continuing on up the road. She rode at a slow trot, sparing Fulgor and looking for one of the caravans that had departed Hightower that morning. They couldn’t be far ahead of her. She was beginning to have trouble concentrating so she was relieved when she saw the last wagons of a caravan appearing around a slight bend in the road.

She caught up to the convoy trundling along ahead of her. She counted eight wagons, though six were more properly described as enormous barrels with wheels, each pulled by four oxen. The last two wagons were more conventional pulled by only two oxen each, filled with a smattering of smaller barrels as well as feed for the oxen and other baggage. Neither of those wagons were full, there was plenty of room in each cart for odds and ends as well as passengers. Such caravans, specialised in beer and wine weren’t of a kind that ever frequented Thetwick. There was no market in the Westmarch for spirits in such quantities and the Thetwickers had to make do with smaller barrels.

She rode past the last wagon which was indeed occupied by a passenger, a young woman in blue, embroidered priestess robes who seemed absorbed with staring intently down the road, evidently lost in thought. She sat with her back against her satchel, facing backwards. Strangely, the young priestess didn’t even seem to notice her as she approached. She had a look of concentration, as if she was pondering some great matter. Fulgor trotted on, taking her past all the wagons until she paralleled the first one. A man, obviously the caravan master was sitting on the bench next to the driver. He was slightly overweight and expensively dressed in green velvet with puffy sleeves, with a neat beard and a somewhat red nose to complement his matching green hat. He was dozing, not quite snoring yet, but that seemed likely to start very soon. He prominently displayed his master’s medallion, a silver and gold disc on a heavy gold chain around his neck which identified him as a Master of the caravanners guild.

“Excuse me, Master?”

The man shifted slightly taking a few seconds to open his eyes and focus on her. By the colour of his nose it seemed like he might indulge in his own wares on a regular basis.

“Hmm… huh… what is it?” His eyes slowly focused on her, “oh… who are you? What do you want?”

He looked around, frowning as he tried to clear the sleep and wine from his mind. He clearly hadn’t expected to be woken by someone that wasn’t travelling with his caravan, “what do you want?” he repeated.

“Sorry to wake you, Master. I’m Alagariel… I’d like to travel under your charter.”

“Under my charter?” he asked, still not fully awake… “where to?”

“I’m headed to Peyrepertuse.”

He glanced at her again, frowning as he became fully awake.

“I have enough guards. Don’t need more… you don’t look like much of a guard anyway… not enough meat to ya. You should be on your way, lass.”

She had seen three men, two were overweight, one was old. It didn’t look like much to her even if they did all have crossbows. She was annoyed that he might think she wasn’t up to the task.

“I was a militia patrol leader. I will be valuable if there is trouble along the journey. Your guards are not young men and they’re not in the best shape. You won’t need to pay me, Master.”

He rubbed the last sleep from his eyes and looked her over a little better. He didn’t look inclined to agree.

“I said, be on…”

“Look, I just need to be able to travel to Peyrepertuse bearing arms. I am willing to pay you for your trouble, if you will feed and board me with the rest of the caravan.”

“A paying passenger? Now that’s different. We can talk.”

“A paying passenger listed on your charter and who will defend your caravan if need be. How much?”

“Thirty silver coins. Good ones.”

It was highway robbery, not that she couldn’t afford it. She just wanted to make her money last.

“That’s a little steep Master. Surely you can do better than that? How about ten silver?”

They eventually settled on twenty-two. It was still a lot of money for the service he was offering. She had been up all night though and was not in a mood to drag things out. She had no way of knowing if there was another caravan ahead of this one or how far it might be, so she decided to take the opportunity while it was available.

She slowed down, letting the caravan pass her by until she came to the last wagon. There, she loosened Fulgor’s saddle and tied him to the last wagon, sitting herself down in the back, next to one of the smaller barrels. She wasn’t the only one there, the young woman in the priestess robes sat there too, still looking back down the road with a look of quiet concentration. She was apparently just as wrapped up in her thoughts as she had been when Ala had passed her by on her way to negotiate with the caravan master. She didn’t seem very communicative, though she had a bright look to her. Ala decided she’d say hello, contrary to her habits. The young woman just looked welcoming for some reason.

“Hello priestess.”

The woman, looked over at Ala, like her daydream had been interrupted. She was more a girl than a woman, Ala decided. The priest’s robes made her look older. She was a little plain with a round face, but she hard warm, inquisitive brown eyes and dirty blonde hair in a long braid. What she lacked in fine beauty, she easily made up for with the warmth and welcome she radiated.

“Oh… sorry. I was just daydreaming. My name is Myrthe, I’m a servant of Guanshiyin.”

“I’m Alagariel. It is nice to meet you.”

For some reason, Ala really meant it. There was something about the girl. The priestess looked her over, studying Alagariel’s face inside her hood, “you look tired. Oh…. and you have… pointy… ears…” she said it, having moved her head to see inside her hood. “You’re an elf and your name really is Alagariel. How intriguing.”

She seemed a little puzzled for no reason that Ala could determine. It was a bit rude really, she thought, trying to see under her hood and commenting on her ears, but the priestess was so open and innocent about it that she didn’t feel defensive.

“I’m a half-elf and I didn’t rest very much last night.”

“Well. I’ve never properly met a half-elf before. Or well, I have, I’ve just never really conversed with one. Not for any length of time anyway. There was a short conversation with an elf once. That was interesting. Anyway. Sorry… I’m rambling. I’m a little nervous. I’ve just started my Sojourn, you see.”

“What’s a Sojourn?”

“You don’t know? I thought it was common knowledge?”

“Apparently not in the Westmarch.”

“Well I’ll explain. When you’re ordained as a Priestess of Guanshiyin, you are to go out and listen to the ‘cries of the world’. You with me so far?”

Ala nodded that she understood, though she felt that ‘listening to the cries of the world’ could mean just about anything.

“Now this is where it gets a little hazy for me as well. Near as I can imagine, I think you’re supposed to come back when you’ve figured out what is meant by that… the more I think about it, the more I do wish there had been more of an explanation.”

She looked as if that revelation had only just come to her, with a concentrated frown on her face.

“So it’s a sort of a right of passage then? How long have you been travelling?”

“I was educated in the temple in Doncastle. I left with this caravan last week. I’m going to Peyrepertuse first.”

“Guanshiyin is the Lady of Compassion, I think?”

“Yes, yes she is. Puzzling, isn’t it?”

That struck Ala as an odd thing for a priestess to say.

“Could I ask you something?”

Myrthe shook her head, like she was freeing herself from a thought to pay more thorough attention to her.

“Please do.”

“I’m really tired, and there may be some unfriendly men after me. Their horses were tired, so I don’t think they have much chance of catching up today, but I’d feel much better if you would wake me up whenever someone or something unknown rides up the road behind us. I’d love to talk more after I’ve had a little rest.”

“Oh you poor thing. Go ahead, sleep. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

The young woman seemed genuine and endlessly sincere.

“Thank you, Priestess.”

Ala found a comfortable position and pulled her hood over her eyes to hide the fact that she wouldn’t really be asleep.

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