Chapter Nine: The Torn Blacksmith, the Frozen Wife and the Homely Daughter:
Master Orson, following the loud commotion was not surprised to see his apprentice at the center of it. Knowing Jerome just wanted to get out of there; he pushed his way through the spectators and led the young man out of the alley taking him home.
Once there, he waved his daughter Ann up to her room and order his wife to pour a mug of last year's cider. For a moment Ann just stood there, shocked by her betrothed's haggard state.
With a knitting needle in her clenched fist the blacksmith's wife, Rebecca jabbed her daughter hard in the backside with its blunt tip. "How dare you just stand there? Get you gone before you anger him further."
More afraid than she was curious, the plain dumpy woman ran up the, slamming her door in protest.
Laying Jerome down on a long bench at the main table Orson looked at his wife only to find her glaring upstairs at her daughter's bedroom door. "You should not treat Ann that way in front of her betrothed or me for that matter." The tone in Orson's voice was as hard and unyielding as the steel from his own forge.
"How dare I? When it comes to that girl of yours you have no right to chastise me."
Stung by her words the coldness in his eyes was the only retort he need give to force Rebecca to avert her gaze down to the tiled floor. Once satisfied he would have no further argument from his wife he sent her off to the market to collect what they needed for that evening's meal. Without saying another word she quickly left, her eyes remaining downcast.
After a long silence Jerome whispered. "Why does she hate Ann so?"
"That is a very hard question to answer. Maybe one day after you and my daughter are married I will share it with you. Since you now seem in the spirit to talk will you consider answering my questions apprentice?"
"Like you Master Orson I doubt any answer I could give would be simple for you to understand."
"You might be surprised by how much I already know Jerome. At the very least I am certain that whatever happened has to do with your reckless hayloft pursuits. Did the Miller's daughter finally have enough of your nonsense?"
Jerome's swollen red eyes opened a bit wider a weak smirk forming around his lips. "Vanessa? By the Lady, no. She's almost as bad as I am. I at least would never pay homage to his former lordship."
"Forgive me, I did not mean to claim such. I too am fully aware of her many trysts to Lord' Weir's bed. I only brought it up because I know that while you have agreed to marry my daughter, as homely as she is, Miss Vanessa is indeed a sight to behold."
"That she is, Master Orson. The prettiest rose in the valley. I find it sadly ironic that Ann looks nothing like your beautiful wife just as Vanessa seems to have been spared her mother's and father's great girth."
The blacksmith closed his eyes and nodded his head while his lips moved silently, mumbling to himself. He then looked back at Jerome, a deep sadness in his eyes. "Though I dare not say his name, I know who has upset you so. I wish there was a way I could save you from such foolishness but as I too am a fool it would be wrong of me to try to convince you otherwise."
"Thank you Master Orson. You will not tell my father about this will you?"
"No, not that there is much even he could do to stop you. You are his only child and his wife is far too old to give him another heir. Even if he dared to divorce the Miller's cousin to take on a younger wife, your father is too old himself to hope he would live long enough to see his ambitions fulfilled. I will keep your secret for now young Jerome but you would be wise to end your pursuit before it endangers your father's plans."
"I wish I could as well but I fear it is already too late. I'm a wolf who has caught the scent of his prey. No law or chain will be able to keep me from the hunt."
"I expected as much. While the people of Rain Shelter see you as their pride and joy, do not forget what happened to Lord Weir when he dared to pursue one of impure blood."
"If any of us are a lesser creature it is us, not him."
"So be it then. Though you are not my own son I do care for you Jerome. During the slaver raids I lost all my children save poor Ann. Knowing that one day she will be in your care is all I need from you to be to see you too gain that which you so deeply desire."
"But what of Ann? Do you really think she will be satisfied having a lecher for a husband?"
"She is already twenty three years old and has yet to have her offer of marriage accepted by anyone during the Harvest Festival's Choosing. Just to avoid the shame of becoming an old maid like that thrice damned witch is all she truly desires. That you will be the one to marry her, as handsome and well loved as you are will put a heavy debt on me to see that you are not denied your own happiness regardless of where you seek it. You have made no secret of your nature therefore do not fear she will protest too much if you continue your many pursuits after you two are wed even if it is with a half blood."
"It will be master. No matter what happens after the Choosing nothing will stop my new desire for him from fading."
"When I was a younger man I felt much the same way. When he appeared in the town that early spring night, cold, naked, and wet he was already fully grown though he had yet learned how to speak. How he had managed to survive before he came to live among us we will probably never know. I do not think he will ever be able to solve that mystery for us. Though none in the valley claim to want anything to do with him, I at least am now willing to admit the sight of him caused a stirring within me. As the legends say, no man of pure mortal blood is immune from feeling the sparks of passion the sight of one of Elven blood gives men and women."
"All these years you have felt as I now do as I would guess many others; yet they were willing to leave him to cruel, bitter old Cess. If you felt that way from the beginning, why didn't you pursue him and save him from that crone?"
"We were all too afraid, lad. We all felt drawn to him but we believed our desire was the result of black magic. It was all I could do to convince the others that his life be spared."
"Yet you still gave him over to Old Cess knowing full well how she would treat him."
"It was the only way his life would be spared. As I told before the council, who else but a witch woman could hope to control one with magic in his blood? We knew she would treat him cruelly but that is what most men and women in the town desired. So long as they believed the half elf timid, they need not fear him. That, I'm sad to say, will soon change.
"For twenty four years he has lived among us though I am sure he is much older than that. Still, as always has been our custom this is the last year he may stand in the Choosing, If, like in the years before, no woman offers him their hand in marriage then ownership of him will pass to your father as is his right as our Tallyman."
"Then I will take him from my father and claim him as my own."
Orson shook his head in disbelief. No matter what he said it seemed like nothing would divert his apprentice from his folly. "If you truly intend to become the next baron you cannot make the same mistake as Lord Weir. If you take one of Elven blood into your home as a lover the people will resent you for it. Though we have lived in this valley for the last three hundred years, the people still carry the memories of their ancestors' enslavement by the Half Elven rulers of Elvendar as well as the pure bloods in the Empire."
"If I claim Vorin as my own there will be little my father could do to stop it. By now you know of the growing unrest in the valley among those around my age. While your generation views Vorin as a bad reminder of the past, there are those who see Vorin as I do, one deserving our pity if not also our love."
The blacksmith looked aghast that his apprentice dared to mention the half elf by name. If his wife was not away at the market Jerome's words would have put them all in danger. It was all he could do to hide such fears from Jerome. Still, as he spoke, his tone reflected the heavy weight of his guilt. "Yes, I know. Your father, I and the Miller made our own mistakes when we took over the valley and one day I fear we will be held accountable for our betrayal. All I ask of you Jerome is that you show an old fool the same pity you give yourself. There are times when a man can choose which path to take. What we both have done and will do in the future is the sort we will have little choice in picking."
"It is not you, Master Orson, who has kept those who follow me from claiming their rightful place. If and when the time comes for your fellows to face the judgment of their children I at least will speak on your behalf."
"That is all I can hope of you Master Jerome... other than."
The two were so close now that each could feel the heat from their bated breath. The blacksmith's dark eyes were that of a man longing to be touched. "Victor..." he whispered as he brushed the knuckles of his left hand across Jerome's unshaven face.
Jerome swallowed hard. This was not the first time the blacksmith had called him by his father's name. Though far younger, muscular and of darker hair he did look much as his father did in his younger days. The apprentice rightly suspected that his master saw him as the man he wished his old friend had become. Is this why his father had sent him to the blacksmith? Jerome didn't know. It did not matter really. Here was a good decent man in intolerable pain. As for himself, Jerome was not the sort to let others suffer in silence. "Of course my dear Orson, what can I do to please you."
"It is what it always is, my beloved."
Jerome let out a sigh. He put the blame for why this great mountain of a man could be so timid on his father. The apprentice knew of several men, both young and old who would grovel at the Tallyman's feet out of hope of catching crumbs of Victor's affections, giving no nourishment to their starving souls.
As they made love Jerome wondered if it was within his power to save his poor master. It could be possible, but not if he acted alone. He now knew the blacksmith had desires of his own beyond those he wanted fulfilled by the men of the van Doren clan. It was ironic that he could solve his problems and those of the blacksmith by the same means.
Their lovemaking ended too short, for Jerome at least. As always, Orson quickly climaxed, going from a man with a ravenous appetite, to a cute whimpering post-coital puppy of little use.
Frustrated Jerome untangled himself from the blacksmith and hurried to put his clothes back on. "I must go."
"If you must, Victor. Shall I have Rebecca save you a plate for when you return?"
Jerome pretended to think about it for a moment and then shook his head. "That won't be necessary my beloved. Rain Shelter does have several fine taverns here about."
"That we do. That we do indeed. If I may suggest, you should head toward the Golden Roost. Around this time of year they will still have some of Master Roberto's spring lambs in their ice box."
"Thank you... I might just do that. Now if I may suggest, you better clean yourself up before your wife returns."
"That won't be necessary, Master Jerome." Standing at the doorway her blue and white lace dress darkened by rain Rebecca was quite displeased on finding her husband in an all too familiar state. In her basket were a pair of plucked chickens and a small sack of potatoes.
"Till 'morrow, Madam Rebecca," With a tip of his fedora Jerome quickly excused himself, not daring to look into the woman's dark eyes.
Placing her basket in the open kitchen, Rebecca picked up a meat cleaver and stared menacingly at her husband. "Well, I see you've created quite a mess for me to clean up." Without looking away, she dropped the heavy knife, splitting one of the chickens right down the middle. "You better not think I will be fixing dinner all on my own... and you better put something on before fetching that daughter of yours, not that you two are too different in manners."
Knowing Rebecca would be most crossed with her daughter if Ann did not aid in the preparation of the night's meal, Orson called for his daughter to come down but received no response. Not wishing for his wife to become angry with Ann, he climbed up the stairs leading to her room and knocked before opening it.
Though the room was completely dark he could feel the breeze coming from the open bedroom window. Striding across the room he looked out, desperately searching for his daughter knowing she must have listened in on his conversation with Jerome. For the first time since his daughter's birth he feared what Ann might do more than what her mother might do to her.
Returning to his wife he whispered; "Ann is not feeling well so she will not be joining us for dinner."
"I do not care how ill she might be or if she does not eat for that matter. I will not peel these potatoes on my own."
Seeing Rebecca heading for the stairs he grabbed hold of her tightly until he was sure he had her full attention. "Let her be, Rebecca. If you do not wish to prepare dinner then I will do it myself."
"That is not your duty my husband."
"I know, it's yours, so you better get to it or I'll make sure you regret it."
Knowing this was not the time to cross her husband; his wife nodded her head until Orson let her go. She then went to a nearby stool and picked up one of the potatoes and started peeling it.
For a long while the only sound was the crackling noise coming from the kitchen's fireplace. Then, without another word to his wife the blacksmith put on his cloak and left. The last Rebecca heard from her husband that night was his powerful voice urging his horse onward toward the farmlands in the north.
Suddenly weak, the potato slip from Rebecca's grasp. As a long stream of tears ran down her pale face she whispered; "Not again. I beg you, my Lady Mir, save me from them both.
Chapter Ten: The Most Excellent Tailoring of the Threads:
Vorin felt like a coward running away from the poor misguided apprentice but his loud fit of despair was sure to attract the attention of others. As he could not dare stay by Jerome's side least be blamed for the blacksmith's distraught state, he fled. What made matters worse was that before running off he went through Jerome's purse and collected the three pieces of silver he had promised his mistress. Only then did he run deeper down the dark alleyways hoping no one on the other side had heard Jerome's cries.
He just made a sharp turn where three houses formed an intersection when he slipped when he placed a careless foot one a wet lead gutter. He fell backwards, his head to land hard on the street floor. Before his mind could register what had happened, he blacked out.
While the townsfolk had been gathered around their favored son, a tall lithe figure, dressed in black stepped out from the back door of his shop to find the half elf knocked out in the alley. With the shouts of the town folk drawing near; he hurriedly carried Vorin inside, locking the door just as a group of men ran by.
Going up a flight of stairs he took the half elf up to the shop's living quarters. There in one of the spare bedrooms he gently laid the half elf down showing little concern for the silver mercurial blood that was staining a goose feather pillow.
While his patient rested, the man in black left for a short while, returning with a tray carrying a steaming tea kettle, a pair of small ceramic pots, and a roll of fine blue silk. With a foot he dragged over one of the workshop's stools and sat himself down on it, placing the tray on a nearby nightstand.
He filled a small porcelain cup with steaming water and dropped a generous pinch of herbs from the red pot. While the herbs seeped, he opened the other pot revealing a faintly glowing deep blue ointment.
Very carefully he rolled Vorin onto his stomach, exposing the half elf's cracked skull. Pasting the wound with large gobs of the ointment he wrapped it up with several rolls of dark silk. Once done he put the half elf on his side and waited in silence for his patient to awaken.
The man, tall, slender in waist and broad in shoulders, looked down at the half elf with a deep yearning in his dark eyes. Only a handful in the valley knew of Vorin's secret. He, like the Baron had sworn their lives, the very threads of their souls, to protect the half elf from harm. It was proving to be a more difficult task than either of them expected.
Not only had Vorin suffer the misfortune of falling into the possession of a witch, but those who wished complete dominion over the former barony did not plan to miss taking full advantage of one of Elven blood. No one outside the conspirators knew that better than Jasper, the master tailor.
Seeing Vorin begin to stir, he brushed away the wavy locks half elf's dark soft hair away from the half elf's eyes. When Vorin opened his eyes, the tailor offered him the porcelain cup. "Drink this young master. It will help ease the pain."
Tipping the cup slightly so Vorin could slowly drink its contents, the tailor took the cup away once it was empty. When the half elf smiled at him, Jasper could not help but burst into laughter. "Yes Master Vorin, my special tea is always sure to put a smile on anyone's face. I hope you feel a little better now."
Vorin's eyes darted around the room as if searching for something or someone. "Where am I?"
"You are in my home and workshop. As for whom I am, my name is Jasper, the newly arrived master tailor from Northern Reach. Surprisingly, I happen to be an old but very good friend of both Lord Weir and Master Jerome. I hope that does not cause you any worry."
It must have for there was a hint of fear in Vorin's gray eyes. "Both of them..."
"Yes, though Jerome does not know it. I have known the Baron before I reached the age of my maturity, and Jerome even earlier. In any case you have no reason to fear either one of them, let alone myself."
Vorin hesitated before replying. "I will try."
"I understand. You know nothing about me after all. And given how poorly you've been treated by everyone in the valley, feeling some wariness shows nothing but wisdom on your part. That does not mean I can't earn your trust."
Reaching under his black velvet doublet the tailor pulled out an amulet that had a dark coin at its center. "Does this look in any way familiar to you?"
Vorin did indeed recognize the coin for Lord Weir wore a silver one around his neck. He did not know why the baron had never mention the tailor to him but seeing it helped ease his fears. "I never knew."
"You were never meant to know unless it became necessary. With what will be your twenty-fifth harvest festival fast approaching the danger that threatens us all will be all the worse now. As you know, the people of Rain Shelter will force you to submit yourself to the Choosing. If no woman in Rain Shelter will have you as their husband then the Elders will finally have the power to either expel you from valley or sentence you to death. That is of no matter. Neither I nor Lord Weir will let things go that far. It is of the more secret dangers that should worry is all."
Vorin had longed to live in a proper house where he would be loved but he never believed such a day would come to pass. It confused him that Jasper was promising that his life as Old Cess' slave would soon end but at the same time warn him that not all such challenges would he so easily solved. "When, Master Jasper? How much longer until I can finally be free."
"A little while longer my dear half elf. As you know there are very few in the valley who would allow one of Elven blood live among them freely. While you might have to remain a slave for now, soon enough you will be free of your mistress and hopefully finally take whatever path you choose."
"Does that mean his lordship..?" Vorin knew he shouldn't have bothered to ask such a question but it was one that had to be asked.
"No Vorin. Just as the free people of the valley would never let you be free of your slavery, they will never let their former lord claim ownership of one of your special heritage. As for why we do not flee from this valley, taking you with us, all I can say it that it is the will of the Lady that we cannot until the night of the Choosing."
Vorin knew all too well what happens to those who dared to go against the will of Lady Mir. The former rulers of Jazzard, the Mountain Elves had dared such during their war against the dark god Vor. While they managed to defeat the God of Boundless Desires, the manner by which they had achieved their victory so enraged the goddess Mir that she placed a death curse upon the entire race, wiping them completely from existence, leaving only the haunting presence of their cursed spirits bound to the city of Soulvalla from where the Mountain King had ruled over all of Elfdom. "I understand. The will of the Lady must be obeyed," Vorin whispered disappointment clearly evident in his defeated demeanor.
Pained by such an expression, Jasper refilled the tea cup, adding two pinches of the finely ground herbs. "Would you like me to pour you another cup of tea?"
As soon as Vorin had finished the extra strong cup he could not stop from laughing. "You're worse than Lord Weir."
"I know I am and so does his lordship. Would you like to know the name of another person who has experienced my wicked ways?" Not waiting for a reply, Jasper leaned over and whispered the name in Vorin's ear.
Instead of laughing as the tailor had expected, Vorin closed his eyes and let out a deep groan. "No wonder he's such a lecher."
With the sun setting behind the distant Cathinian Mountains in the west, the time had come for Jasper close his shop, relieved that Vorin would be able to sleep in the comfort of a proper bed if only for one night. As for what the future might bring, Jasper had no intention of letting the half elf face the witch's wrath without him. Lord Weir had sworn to obey the Lady in this matter but the Tailor had not.
"Master, may I see Prince Vorin?" His apprentice asked eagerly
Jasper slapped his apprentice with such force it sent Niles spinning against the shop's counter. "Never, never let anyone hear you call him that, including myself. You would slay us all, Vorin included, with that loose tongue of yours."
He was about to hit the young man again when he saw streaks of yellow gold running down his cheeks. Ridden with guilt he attempted to comfort his apprentice but the cowering youth pulled away. "I... I... terribly sorry Niles. I should never strike out at you for things that are not your fault. These years have not been easy for either of us... probably harder on you than anyone else. If you just hadn't giving Landis those damned coins... Never mind you did what needed doing, by no mistake."
"Forgive me master. I've been so lonely since... since forever I suppose." This time when Jasper reached for him Niles didn't pull away.
"I know too well you are, my lad. What's done is done so there's no point fighting over a bunch of what ifs. How about this... Knowing our dear Landis he is probably at the Golden Roost right now so what do you think about joining him for supper."
"Really? Can I?" That brief moment of excitement disappeared as fast as it came, replaced with a torn expression. "I would rather stay here and help you care for Vorin, if I may."
"You may not, you young rascal... for this one night at least. You have been waiting to pounce poor Landis since the day we met while this is our guest's first night under our roof. Do you have enough coin on you to show you soon to be companion a good time?"
Freeing his purse from his belt, Niles shook it, the coins producing the sort of jingling only a rich pouch can make. "I do."
"There better not be a single Half Talon in there. If I had known you have the audacity of giving three of them to that young bard out in the open I might have left you in Northern Reach until you had gained enough common sense."
"No Master Jasper, please don't say that."
"You're right. I shouldn't. Once again I'll ask your pardon though asking probably makes me a fool's fool."
Instead of a reply Niles rushed toward the shop's front door. He was half way out the door when he stopped and giddily said; "Already given." With a wink and a wave goodbye he was gone.
Leaning against the countertop Jasper started rubbing his temples. "I must be a fool to dare raising a hand at him. Unfortunately for me he will make sure I pay him back in spades after he fills out. That makes me more of a fool than he has ever been." When he removed his hands, they revealed the black stain lines of his tears. "That damned druid better be right about Jerome. If he chooses to take the same path as his father... Dare I imagine what will happen to these poor fool of a people. Most likely they would get what they rightfully deserve, unfortunately."
With a start the tailor shook himself free of his despair. Did he hear a groan from upstairs? There it was again. He did give Vorin three pinches of ground numb root didn't he? That should have kept the half elf asleep until morning. Then again, how could he suppose to know what affect his herbs would have on Vorin, lost prince or not?
Taking the stairs three at a time, Jasper ran back to the spare bedroom to find the half elf trying to undo the wrapping he had so laboriously put around Vorin's cracked skull. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, young lad."
"It itches too much."
"You should be happy it itches. If it wasn't than that would mean you were dead, as much sorrow that would bring to my thin soul." Gently he took the offending hand and placed it by Vorin's side. "Shall I make you so more tea?"
"No," the half elf replied flatly.
Wonderful, he already finds me annoying. My concoctions that is. "I really think you should."
"Well I don't, Master Jasper. So unless you plan to shove a funnel in my mouth it would be best that I don't catch your hands in the pots again."
Funny enough the tailor already had a whole fistful of the numb-root, more than enough to kill the half elf, not to mention all further pain.
With a nervous chuckle Jasper attempted to return the medicine back to its pot, making a mess of the bed in the process. "Let me get you some clean sheets?" Sheets indeed... all Jasper wanted was to hide in his deepest closet to avoid further embarrassing himself. "Does his lordship get so fuddled up when he is around you?"
"All the time Master Jasper. My presence seems to scare away most people's common sense." Vorin let out an exhausted sigh. He wanted to leave but knew his present state would not allow it. He found men like Jasper and Jerome, men who trip over themselves to fawn at his feet, most annoying. That bad habit was not the tailor's fault and it was wrong of him to blame him for it so he sincerely asked his caretaker his forgiveness, which was quite unusual for the shrewd.
"Now was that so hard to say, my dear half elf?"
"Harder than you can imagine," is what Vorin wanted to say but shook his head instead. If he had spoken his real mind on the matter, it would have defeated the purpose of his first apology therefore requiring him to give an intolerable second.
Jasper saw through the ruse and laughed. "Now I understand why Regis gets so frustrated when he talks about you. You're more stubborn than a mule and prideful as a peacock by no mistake. Well I'm sure when you come to meet the proper person he or she will be able to dull your fangs."
"I am not that horrible of a person, am I?"
"Horrible no, reeking of terrible bitterness, most definitely. That can only be expected given your situation. You were not given the easy path to follow, no mistake."
"If you mean I have no say in who loves me or I them?"
Ah the list, that very long list of interested parties. Regis, Jerome, Roberto, and most frightening Jerome's father, the Tallyman. Well, not Master Victor, not yet at least. Jasper knew Vorin had to know that the path that would lead him to accepting the Tallyman as his beloved was fast approaching.
And that was the answer... Out of those short thoughts Jasper quickly understood why Vorin had taken a sudden dislike of him. The half elf had talked with the Baron and probably all of his servants as well so he knew that the tailor was not one of them. That is why Vorin wasn't willing to trust him. In his eyes, Jasper was a slave, not any slave, but the personal slave of the one he feared most. Sad to say his distrust was well justified.
"I beg your forgiveness, Master Vorin. I should not have been so flippant about things that have not brought either of us much joy. In the matter of Jerome and his father I have less of a say in what will happen than you do."
"That does not mean you have no preference."
Feeling Vorin squeeze his hand, sent a ripple of relief through Jasper's soul. At least Vorin had not taken him as one of Victor's agents. "That would be Jerome. It has always been him, regardless of his foolishness. Which one it is to be only you can say."
"That is what I hate about Jerome... It does not matter who I pick, it won't change what will happen in the end."
"Only what will happen to this valley and its people. You don't know how your choice will affect the rest of our world. That the Lady will only show you what parts of your path best suits her should make you suspicious of what the future might bring. That is why I have gambled the thread of my soul never doubting you will make the right choice."
"Damn the son or damn the father... that is not much of a choice."
"Put it this way, save a good man from himself or damn us all just to save one who will always be evil."
"As you said, not much of a choice, is it?"
"Too often life proves to be all too terribly cruel. Sometimes the best we can do is to chose the path that will make us most happy. You know Jerome would be more able to do that than his father ever will."
Taking a white kerchief from his pocket Jasper wiped away the half elf's silver tears. He would keep that square of silk as a prized heirloom for he did not imagine those tears were the kind that was shed often enough. Damn the Lady and her cruelty, if Vorin's father had known how the goddess of the land would try to use his son... His teeth were biting hard enough on his tongue to make it bleed, Jasper was so furious. No wonder Vorin treated Jerome with distain. He didn't want the foolish youth to fall in love with him, continuing to believe that love and the future it would bring could still be stopped.
It couldn't and wouldn't because it was never meant to. It was a longing so ancient that it probably existed before man took their first step on the shores of Mir. What was Vorin to do, damn the good son and save the Land or damn a man who had already condemned his soul to the pits of hell so the son could kill them both. He always knew which one Vorin would choose, and sadly so had Vorin.
"Do you think he will ever forgive me for how I've treated him?"
"I am sure he will without you asking and in time he will come to love you all the more when he learns what you sacrificed for his sake."
"I've always despised the prat, not wishing to love him but how can I not. I know what he will strive to do if I let him. Sometimes I think I will never let him even if I choose his path for now."
For now... how can Vorin believe his path would ever fork again once he made his choice? Jasper never heard Ezekiel speak of the possibility nor had the Baron. So could Vorin know that none other did? There was his affair with Roberto which none had foreseen. Was the Rancher to play a much larger role in things that anyone had guessed? Jasper had to find out, and quickly.
For the rest of the night Jasper watched Vorin in silent contemplation. Come dawn and Niles return he would be off to pay Roberto Simms a visit.
Chapter Eleven: A Meeting of Old Companions:
Niles knew his skipping around must make him look a fool but he didn't care. He was far too happy to worry how others saw him, well almost. He was going to the Golden Rooster where, if Master Jasper was right, Landis, his dear lost friend would be waiting for him. Well, not waiting per say, but he would be there entertaining the late crowd with song, tales and poetry. He just hoped the bard would save a few of his best love poems for him before the night was through.
So what if he was as big of a fool as Jasper would often proclaim. So long as his motives remained pure no harm should come to him. But where his motives completely pure?
On reaching main square where the town hall, the largest counting offices, and many of the most impressive homes stood, Niles stopped long enough to try and regain his composure, if just a little.
He had countless memories of his dearest companion. It was a terrible shame knowing his old friend did not. What could he say and how could he say it without making himself look like a raving youth? Hello Landis, you don't remember me but we used to have great deal of fun together when we were much older. Would you like to come out and play? No, something like that wouldn't do at all. He would have to think long and hard about this before he let himself enter the Golden Roost. The first impression is always the most important one and right now he knew he wouldn't make a very good one.
He had meandered halfway across the square when some great force sent him sprawling. "Hey watch where you're going" He shouted at the towering man running away from the tavern, heading for the west gate.
After he had gotten back onto his feet he feeling something wet run down his face from his scalp. Examining every part of his face, he screamed when his hands were stained yellow. "No, no, no... Not now!" In a panic the apprentice went to the nearest storefront, a flower shop happened to be owned by the obscenely rich Miller who owned one business out of four and a third of all houses in town.
Yep, there it was, much to Niles terror, a stream of golden ichors running down the middle of his forehead to drip of the tip of his pug nose. No problem, I can fix this, he thought with false confidence. With great care he removed his coat, the first coat he had made himself, and used its inner lining to soak up the glowing blood.
When he was sure every drop was gone, he put the coat back on and checked his reflection once more. No speck of gold on his forehead and nose. His blond hair was alight but he was sure no one would notice inside the tavern.
But what if he wanted Landis to take a walk with him? What would he do when he wanted to go home? The bard or someone else would surely notice how shiny his hair was in the darkness of night. A thousand `what ifs' ran through his mind. His panic growing with each one that forced its way into his thoughts.
Then there was his coat. Made with black dyed wool the glow from the stained inner lining was strong enough to penetrate the dark outer fabric. Now this certainly would not do.
Where could he hide this bit of incriminating evidence that he was not of pure blood? Think, think, think. At the peak of his panic he suddenly remembered where he was. Town square was where all the rich people lived. Unlike most parts of town, those who lived here were not the sort to toss their garbage out on the streets. There was no sight or smell that they did.
It was his search for the local dustbin that took up nearly an hour of his time until his nose finally caught whiff of its location. He ended up going out of the square into the maze of back alleys where he found a cart that stood directly beneath one of the house's garbage shoots. He should have known the people of town square would not like their neighborhood tainted by the smell of trash. It was under that heap that he buried the coat with every intention of retrieving it later that night.
Now in a desperate state, Niles did walk, skip or merely run to the tavern as much as he nearly flew. He did not know if he would find Landis still at the Golden Roost but he also didn't know when he would have another chance at pouncing.
He must have made quite a sight when he burst into the tavern. The room was dead silent and every eye appeared to be on him. Afraid he still had some of his blood on him, he started spinning around like a dog trying to catch its tail.
"Will you sit down and shut up. He was just getting to the good part." One of the patrons barked.
Chastened, Niles sat himself on a chair that had been cast aside to an isolated corner.
Hearing the sharp twirl he looked for its source and found his dear Landis atop a long table, with a flute to his lips. "It was, as I said, before we were rudely interrupted..."
As his heart continued to sink Niles listened as his beloved bard told the tale of Cadin, the tragic and last prince of the Mountain Elves. He had already sung of the days when he and the two gods of the Huma, Saint Gregory of the Faith, and Vor, the dark god of Forbidden Desires, had been raised together as brothers only to make war againt one another in the horrifying Cataclysm Wars that led to their mutual destruction leaving once great Jazzard in ruins.
It was the final climax of the wars which Landis was now singing with a beautiful tenor that could be both strong and gentle.
Great Gregory,
The mourning god,
In his despair
Ventured too far,
Till Dragon's Maw
His feet did lead,
To face the doom long foretold.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
And in the end
All three but one,
Were doomed by their despair.
On his knees
He did beg,
For salvation thought lost,
But to no avail,
For on deaf ears
His pleas did fall,
His listeners unwilling to give what he desired.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
And in the end
All three but one,
Were doomed by their despair.
The Maw did snap,
The trap was sprung,
His sword he drew
To face tooth and claw,
The three dear friends ,
Friends no more,
Each others death was all they sought.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
And in the end
All three but one,
Were doomed by their despair.
Aza the Green,
Aura the Blue,
Summoned what might
Only they both knew,
To slay the one,
Who betrayal them all,
So the Lands of Mir could heal from its scars.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
And in the end
All three but one,
Were doomed by their despair.
With a final snap
And thrust of sword,
Gregory and Aura
Met their end,
With two now dead
There was but one,
To mourn the loss of our Land.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
And in the end
All three but one,
Were doomed by their despair.
But my dear one
Do not cry,
For all has yet to be lost,
There still a chance
For rebirth,
Through the one
Whose coming long foretold,
The one who would see justice done.
The three did weep,
The three did fight,
But in the end
They were ever well beloved.
... Ever well beloved.
When the last note finally faded away there was naught but silence. On the faces of both men and boys tears could be found rolling down their cheeks. These fools might show nothing but their distain towards both gods of elves and men but at that moment none would deny the power of that song.
Aura the Blue serpent of the Mana, and Emerald Aza of the Ether had once fought by Saint Gregory's side to end the nightmarish reign of Vor, the dark god of Forbidden Desires. It was how the war was won that turned the friends against one another. Instead of taking part in the final battle Saint Gregory had abandoned his allies at their moment of greatest need to deal with the Usurper Emperor Gladius III. That left only the patron gods of the elves to fight with Prince Cadin of the Mountain Elves to rid the world of darkness forever.
Because of that betrayal the allies' victory over Vor was only half won and bitter sweet for at the moment Cadin slew the dark god, a deed the Land had deemed to be Gregory's alone, were cursed by the goddess Mir to be doomed to live out for the rest of time as tortured souls who would never be reborn.
The loss of the Mountain Elves and especially beloved Cadin was seen as an act of treachery by Aza and Aura. After all if Gregory had been present in the final battle and killed the dark god, the Mountain Elves would have been spared and the Elf Clans would not have gone into exile. That was how the Elven gods saw it at least.
Saint Gregory on the other hand put much of the blame on the two entwined pair. Were they not the ones who swore by the threads of their souls to protect Cadin no matter the cost? It was they, not he who had betrayed their oaths. It was because of them that the prince had died and his people doomed.
While all three sunk to the morass of despair, it was Saint Gregory who either out of terrible sorrow or crushing guilt who went mad in the end. In his vengeful rage he crucified the false emperor and all his kin, until not one drop of blood of the Thirteenth House flowed in the veins of men.
As neither his guilt nor sorrow was lessen by the ruining of one of his bloodlines, the god of the Faith turn his wrath against those of his followers who had fought in the last battle. In his eyes they too were guilty of Cadin's death. For fifty years the tribes of men fought among each other to prove to their god that they remained faithful.
The killings and civil wars did not come to an end until after Saint Gregory's death. Why, after so many years, did the god of the Faith seek Aza and Aura out like he did, none one not even the three patriarch of the Gregorian Church, could make an honest claim that they knew.
The teachings of the Church held that the God of the Faith had gone to Aza and Aura to beseech them to bring their people back only for his friends to betray and kill him. In the lands of the Elven Old Kingdoms most believed Saint Gregory had gone to the Maw to demand the pair recognize him the sole god of both men and elves, which they refused and therefore were forced to slay the mad god for the sake of all Mir.
In truth there were as many explanations as there were countless people, both of pure blood and Elven as to why the three gods had fought. And even though a thousand years had passed since the terrible day when two gods had died, it was a question the followers of Saint Gregory were no closer in answering.
As could be expected, Niles had an opinion of his own as to why Saint Gregory ventured into the Maw. He believed that deep down the god of the Faith knew his murdering madness had to stop or his people and all of Mir would be forever ruined. Based on that theory Gregory had gone to the Maw so he could be killed and unfortunately Aura died as well.
Niles was so confident in his theory that he would never willingly share it with others. He would not dare speak of it among those of pure blood as they would be greatly offended hearing, that one of the gods of the Huma had willingly surrendered his life to the gods of the Elves, regardless if they counted themselves among Saint Gregory followers.
On the other hand he probably never dare speak of it in the company of those of Elven blood. That was mainly due to the fact that, besides Vorin, he simply didn't know of any others. He also greatly feared that those among the Half Elves would be offended by the idea that great might Aura had died simply because Gregory had made a selfish request that he do so.
It was well know that the Lady, goddess of the Land supreme, would never let those who dared to renounce the life she had given him, have another chance to do so again. It was for that reason, above all others, that Niles was sure to keep his opinions to himself. For be they men or Elven born; both believed that Saint Gregory of the Faith and Aura, patron god of the Elves and the healing Mana would one day be reborn to continue their vengeful duel, a rebirth that Niles believed would never happen.
With the end of the ballad, many of the patrons were making their way out. Landis was at the bar, settling with the tavern keeper. By the time Niles summoned enough courage to leave his corner there were less than a half score left. Landis was still at the bar, counting his coins. In the backroom was Davin Halcyon, a young man near the same age as Landis. His father Deacon Halcyon owned the most profitable counting house in the valley. When and more importantly, if he inherited the family business he would command the same fear and respect that Master Victor and the Miller inspired.
Davin's dining companion man was Rolf Hendrickson, a young bear of a man whose quick temper was only exceeded by his protective nature towards those he saw as his cubs.
That the two were huddled together did seem an odd pairing as Davin's father was among those the people needed protection from. As his heir Davin was by no means helpless. Yet the two were there in the backroom, heads together wearing the kind of closed grins most often seen on the faces of youths who are up to no good or... Oh dear.
Shaking his head, he tried to stop his thoughts from dwelling on possibilities that were none of his business. So what if their friendship involved more than the nightly trip to the pub. Such relationships were quite common among the unchosen. The years between a man's sixteenth and twenty-fourth summers were seen as the best period in a young man's life. Those years were their freest anyway.
Outside their duties as a bound apprentice or field worker the young men and women in the valley could do whatever they wished until the night they are Chosen. They could go where they please, befriend whoever they wished , regardless of their standings, and most importantly bed whoever they wish, married or not.
Almost anyone that is... Though no law had been passed forbidding anyone from pursuing the half blood the Elders had made it well know that any attempt by the youth to befriend Vorin would bring terrible shame on their families, most families that is. The van Dorens, the Millers, the Simms, and the Halcyons were households whose sons could do as they please with impunity.
There was something else about the pair, something very familiar. Niles would have to get much closer to them to be sure but his nose never lied. The scent of magic was in the air.
With another shake he gingerly made his way to the bar where his beloved Landis was digging into a sizzling plate of thinly sliced spring lamb and summer vegetables.
"Uhm... Hello Master Landis." Master Landis? Was that he best he could do? The bard was his dearest. So why was he being so formal.
"Uhm, Hi." The bard did a double take and jumped; the high chair he was seated on knocked down to the floor with Landis along with it.
Panic stricken, Niles rushed to Landis' side his nimble hands doing far more than helping the bard. "Sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to scare you."
"And I didn't mean to scare you. But if you don't mind, I think I can get up on my own."
Like a child caught in his mother's cookie jar, Niles hand's darted away doing his best to feign innocence.
The pair stared at one another in deep silence.
Crack! The logs in the fire pit collapsed into piles of gray ash and glowing cinders. Not that either man noticed. They were too occupied with the feel of their bodies, the snapping of the blocks of cedar no different than their collapse of self restraint.
"My word..." The two had their hands halfway down each other's pants when the tavern keeper's wife, May Sweetcastle appeared from the kitchens.
"Now, now May, leave these poor lads alone. It's not like you haven't seen this sort of stuff before."
"I will not have a pair of louts doing... whatever they were about to do, under my roof. So dear husband of mine unless you want to take a rolling pin to your head you will shoo these miscreants out."
Master Dillon leaned against the bar, his wiry frame held up by his skinny elbows. "Sorry lads, my wife has yet to forget the tales of my adventurous youth."
"Why did you wed then?" Landis asked.
"Why!" Rage filled Master Sweetcastle's eyes. "Get you gone before I take a cudgel to you."
"So bet it. I'm sure the Copper Ladle is in need of a good song." The bard got as far as the door before he noticed that Niles was not following him."
"What are you staring at?" The tavern keeper demanded from the blond youth.
"You heard Master Dillon. He doesn't want our sort around here."
"I know my friend. I'm just waiting for Master Rolf and Master Davin to catch up with us."
"What?" Landis and tavern keeper asked, their voices echoing each other.
"What!" May stormed into the main room, a well floured rolling pin she swung around with the fury as a raging barbarian itching to chop off a few heads.
"Your pardon madam, but if we have to leave, don't they have to as well. I mean, at least we kept our pants on." Niles pointed towards the backroom, the eyes of the three others following it to where Master Rolf was on his knees, his lips tightly wrapped around Davin's swollen cock.
Before Landis could come up with a snide remark, May launch her rolling pin at the pair hitting Rolf squarely in the middle of his spine.
While Rolf had been hit, Davin was one who jumped; spewing such foul curses that only Old Cess would be proud of. Rolf for his part remained on his knees, a large hand about his throat as he gasped for air."
"So tell me fat cow of a bitch why shouldn't I have my father shut your establishment down and the pair of you sent off to the Tallyman."
Finding himself caught between the infuriated book keeper, Niles quickly retreated to Landis' side. "I think this would be a good time to make our exit."
"And miss the rest of the show?" Landis laughed. How queer Niles was. He had taken pleasure in causing this mess but with mention of the Tallyman, he didn't want to stick around to see his doings to the end. His laughing was quickly cut off when Davin stopped shouting at the tavern keepers long enough to sic Rolf on the young pair.
"You won't be giving me any trouble, will you?" Were Davin was berating the Sweetcastles with the force of a hurricane, the giant of a man's bright red face was like looking down the shaft of a volcano that's about to explode, him far more dangerous than his companion.
Without a word, the bard and the tailor did as they were told, putting themselves as far as possible, which were the very spots Rolf and Davin had sat.
"Get them out of my sight, Rolf." The book keepers voice was hoarse and his brown hair a disheveled mess.
Grabbing wife and husband by their necks, the farmer's son pushed the tavern keepers out of their own establishment. When the door had been bolted and barred, he crossed his arms and snickered.
"Now that wasn't so hard was it?" Having reached under the bar, Davin was soothing his sore voice with a bottle of valley's prized vodka. "How appropriate, bottled twenty five years ago. Seems like all that's good and cursed in this damned fucking valley dates back to that god cursed year."
"You shouldn't say that, master. This will be our twentieth fifth year and our last Choosing."
"And choose what! You are not so thickheaded to believe any woman would choose me out of genuine love. You seen for yourself the terror my bearing the Halcyon name brings on others. It doesn't matter. My damned father has already deemed I am to take no wife this year." Davin took a lard swig of the fiery liqueur until not a drop remained. He then threw the crystal decanter at the long wall spanning mirror behind the bar, shattering them both.
"He can't do that."
"Of course he can't. The right to stand in the Choosing is sacrosanct. That might be the finally rite I must passed to entire manhood and is one I want. My father... the bastard, if I accept any woman's choosing me, my father has promised... no, will see that I and my bride will become the personal property of that fucking Tallyman."
Niles scooted his chair closer to Landis. "He might be finely dressed but he speaks from the gutter."
"Shut up," he hissed under his breath. He would have boxed the naïve idiot but didn't dare draw more attention to himself.
Unfortunately the book keeper had not forgotten about him. "So, Master Bard and whoever you are."
"Niles, apprenticed to Master Jasper, the tailor. We just..." He let out a gasp before he could say more. Landis, his sweet dear beloved had just jabbed him hard in the gut with a well aimed elbow.
"He doesn't want to hear you life story, fool."
"I'm not a fool!"
"You sure your father isn't doing you a favor by not allowing you to marry?"
"Rolf, my dear friend, right now I would marry that twice damned hag and live among the trash heaps if doing so would free me from my father's iron grasp." Davin pointed a finger at Niles. "So Master Niles, you claim to be Master Jasper's apprentice. I did not know a slave could own a slave of his own. No matter. I've heard my father speak of your master, in not so pleasant terms mind you, but what else can be said of one so entwined with our beloved Tallyman."
"My master is a good and honorable man."
"Aye, so he's a good man who just does what he's told no matter how abhorrent. Isn't that what is expected of a good and honorable slave. Always do as you're told without question or protest?"
"My master is a good and honorable man..." This time his defense of the tailor was so weak it only served to validate everything Davin had said."
Davin shook his head with disgust. Why did this slave, for he would bet his life that, collar or no collar, the boy was a slave, feel the need to defend his oppressors. The fair haired youth certainly knew better than he the nature of Master Victor's god-be-cursed soul. "You are quite right, Master Landis; your companion is need of a fool."
Seeing Niles in tears washed away any resentment he had felt towards him for getting him into this mess. Moving towards his foolish yet sweet new companion he wrapped an arm around Nile's trembling shoulders.
"Well, look at that boss. Doesn't that remind you of the day we first met?"
"Yes, but only so I won't have to listen to you tell these louts all about that nasty business."
"You were so cute and helpless back then."
"Shut up Rolf."
Though he knew all too well book keeper's history of the revenge he took against all those who once tormented him, Landis could not stop himself from laughing and Davin's pouting face.
"Want me to handle this boss?"
"You don't think I can?"
"Oh I know you easily can. My way is just more merciful than yours."
"Why, you're going to beat them into strawberry jam. I don't see how that will be seen as kindness."
"I know you think me as much a fool as that young lad but I know that you know that beating them into a pulp does not compare to the sort of nasty things you are capable of. You do not want people calling you the Tallyman's pet, do you?"
"No. Master Victor already has too many cretins at his beck and call that I do not want my name added with theirs. This Jasper fellow is supposed to be the worst of the lot. Isn't that so, Master Niles?
Landis covered Niles mouth before he could reply. Though he had not known the man he had seen Niles with at the market was none other than Victor's favorite attack dog, he did not want this strange and fragile youth be forced to admit as much."
"To think, Landis Huber would be willing to risk his scrawny little neck to try to protect someone more pathetic than he is, well quite frankly, unbelievable."
"Which is why, boss, I will not harm them and neither shall you."
"So be it then. I warn you however, if they make a mess of things, your hide will be the one collected. Now before you get all sweet and sentimental on me, tell me what want me to do with the pair of them."
"We could take them with us."
"Do I look like their nanny, not that either of their folks were able to afford one for them."
"It's just a party."
"It's not any party. It's this season's Fool's Feast."
"Fool's Feast?" Niles head was up wearing a smile that was quickly growing bigger.
"Shut up." All of them, Landis included, grunted.
"But I've been to every Fool's Feast for the past five years. My master and Master Roberto are good friends."
"You jest. You expect us to believe that Master Roberto, probably the only honest good man in this cursed valley sees you and your master as friends? I've never seen you there and I've gone to every Fool's Feast since I was sixteen. I think this will be my ninth year."
Niles snorted, and brushed his long blond hair away from his eyes. "Of course you never saw me. You can't go without a mask. You would know that if you had ever gone to one."
"He's right about that boss. If I remember rightly last spring you mask was the head of a fat green caterpillar made out of papier-mâché.
"And you wore the same dumb mask you always wear, an ox."
"It's a bull, it has always been a bull and will ever be a bull for that is the only mask I will wear."
"It doesn't matter how faded the paint or that the horns have been broken and glued back on so many times they would look better on a ram; he keeps on wearing it."
"You gave it to me."
"For you to wear at the first feast, not all of them. What's the point of wearing masks if everyone knows who you are?"
Landis frowned. "What sort of gathering is this?"
"The secret kind but if Roberto is now inviting the Tallyman's slaves, I'm not sure if I will attend. Like any Freeman, I have no desire to wear an iron collar. "
"Master Jasper is not a spy and he would never betray you two."
Rolf took a step towards the smaller pair but Davin waved his goon off. The banker's son squinted at Niles, searching for something his eyes could not see. "All who attend; or us in particular?" He asked suspiciously.
"Uhm... anyone Roberto claims as a friend."
"That is not what I asked, Niles Ray. That is your full name, no?"
Landis sidestepped away from the blond youth. Niles Ray? Since when did the Tallyman's slaves allowed to bear a freeborn's surname and why one so common among Sun Elves? It was becoming apparent that Niles was in the possession of a treasure trove of secrets.
"Tell me, Niles Ray, does Roberto count you among one of his dear friends?"
"I... I do," he stuttered as he shifted his weight about nervously.
"I wouldn't run off lad. For if you are what I think you are, then you know what we are."
Out of desperation Niles look to Landis for help but the bard only offered a pair of empty hands and a shrug. You made this mess whoever you are so don't think I'm going to save you.
Davin shifted his gaze from the terrified apprentice onto the bard, both he and Rolf now wearing predatory grins. "Why thank you Master Niles. That's all we needed to know. As for you, Master Landis, I think we need to talk. Don't worry we won't harm you."
"Uhm... I think I'll stay where I am." Landis didn't know what Davin wanted with him but he bet it would not benefit him much.
"I see. You're scared of us though you have no reason to be. It might seem you and I have nothing in common but I believe otherwise."
Landis stepped forward one step, his foot moving with a will of its own. It was the only step he was allowed. Before his left foot touched the straw covered floor Niles grabbed and pulled him behind him. Landis would have never guessed his skinny companion had such strength in him. Where Niles had grabbed him his arm was throbbing.
"I will not let you have him."
"You dare stand oppose the will of the Lady?"
"My place in this tale might be insignificant but the path I walk is of my choosing and none other."
Rolf whispered into his friend's ear and Davin nodded. "So be it, Niles Ray, at least for now. You might choose which paths you take but unless you claim to be a god you cannot force your friend to walk with you."
The two turned away and headed for the door. While Rolf unbarred it, Davin look backed at the bard. "If you wish to know the truth my dear bard you will join us three Vards hence at this summer's Fool's Feast." He blew Landis a kiss before they made their exit.
Chapter Twelve: The Folly of Forgotten Treasures:
How could what was meant to be the best of all nights go so wrong? Niles did not need to look on the face of his beloved to know his enraptured state. He had known this meeting was doomed to happen. He felt very much the fool believing he could stake his claim on Landis' heart before any other could. It was his fault. If he had not come, the tavern keeper would not have tried to kick them out. And if he had just kept his mouth shut, then his rivals would never have noticed the bard.
Feeling approaching tears welling in his eyes Niles left the inn alone, if just to evade answering the questions he knew Landis would ask him. It was a long lonely walk and it was all the apprentice could do to keep his composure until he found behind the alley door of his master's shop.
"I'm home," He whispered. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Not the store, Rain Shelter, or any place within the valley would ever feel like home to him. Given his age he knew he shouldn't let his homesickness get the better of him, not with where his path will take him. He had never lived an easy life but why did it have to be so difficult, he despaired.
Wanting nothing more than to sleep through what little was left of this night, he made his way upstairs trying his best to not make a sound. Unfortunately the third to last step betrayed him, the warped wood let out a loud squeak. There Niles froze.
"You might as well come all the way up, my apprentice."
Looking up from the step, Niles fell backwards in fright when he saw his master standing atop the stairs. In that brief second before he went crashing down everything went dark and just as quickly normal again to find himself outside the bedroom door where their guest could be found.
"What am I to do with you, Niles? You are of little use to me as you are now. If you don't find a way to summon the courage that is your birthright, you will live out this life and all those that follow more tragic than before. "
"Yes Master. You're right master. I beg you for your forgiveness master." Niles mouthed but did not dare put voice to.
"I'm sorry Niles. That you are here without your dear one with you can only mean all the worse for you."
"It's far worse than you can imagine." Niles went into great detail over what happened at the Golden Roost, including his suspicions concerning Davin and Rolf.
"I wish I could speak such truths that would free you of your worries, but unfortunately I cannot. You might be a coward and this is not the first time your loose tongue has gotten you into trouble but you are no fool. You're right. Landis' thread is entwined with the pair, just as yours is."
"So what am I suppose to do? Give up?"
"You are not the sort to give up so easily, my dear Niles. You must accept, however, that there will always be others he will feel stronger toward than you."
"But..."
Jasper raised a hand to silence to his apprentice. "You can't all your hopes that the past events that brought you two together will happen again. You can't burden Landis having such expectations of him, nor should you unfairly burden yourself.
"But..."
"I will hear no further protests from you about this matter. We both should be more concerned for our guest than let our personal problems get the better of us."
Niles couldn't believe he had forgotten about Vorin. Vorin's safety and needs would always trump his own. It was such a basic truth that he held no resentment towards Vorin. While he loved Landis, the feelings the half elf stirred in him were of such power as to be terrifying. "You are right, my master. I shouldn't have darkened this house with my pettiness."
"No, Niles. Where your heart is concerned, nothing can be of greater importance. The only correction you need is for me to remind you that there are others who already love you deeply, but you have always known that."
"Thank you master..."
"Now, no more tears from you and for as long as Vorin remains under our roof you will not refer to me as your master, for in truth you have always been your own master."
"Yes ma... Jasper."
"Ah, to be young again. No matter. Will you now join me in keeping watch over our guest?"
"You will let me sit with you, Master... I mean Jasper."
"Yes you may, if you promise to keep a tight hold of that tongue of yours. In fact it would be best if you not speak at all."
Niles opened his mouth, but before he could reply it was covered by his master's hand so he nodded silently as he followed Jasper into the brightly lit bedchamber.
The light was not among the more common sources, both magical and mundane. The most common were the sun of day and the moons of night of course. Next were those emitted through burning, be it candles, wood, coal, or those oils that could be extracted from both plants and animals.
Last and least common were the lights that were emitted by the different essences of the Land's magic, those of the empowering sage green sands of the Ether of the Empire, the healing blue sands of the Mana of Arkland, the Seeing stones of Suronia, the blue Ice rocks of the Northern Wastes, the bright metallic bars of yellow Sun-gold and misty Moons-sliver of Elvendar, the doom bring blackened bones of Immortalis, the rainbow opals of illusion hidden in the sacred lands of the Fay. There were also the gray fluidic enchanted iron of the dwarves of Iron Mount, obsidian black Mother Shards, flecks of the ivory Father bone, the orange crystallized fruit which only the Tree of Amber bore, and its darker twin, the violet demonic pus like sap of the tainted miasma that seeps out of the deep roots of the ever rotting World Tree. Last and greatest of all was of the lost sacred diamond sands once welded by the near forgotten people of the Mountain Elves. Regardless of source, all such elements of power were equally capable of good and evil.
Such was the case in Weir Valley. In Rain Shelter and the barony in whole, the sole source of enchantment lied in the emerald glowing mists and waters of the Ether. In the bedchamber where Vorin slept the light that filled the room did not come from crystal blubs, nor was it green. Instead over a dozen gold rune covered candlesticks, azure the candles atop them made up concentrated waxy Mana.
Niles jaw dropped, his flesh a tingle. Though he had only taken a few steps into the room, he could feel his life thread thicken with increased strength. "How?"
"How did I obtain such candles? It was not as hard as you might think it would be. As you know the Baron and I are on very good terms so all I had to do was ask him for a few dozen and he readily gave them."
"I don't understand."
"There is no need for you to understand. That we had need of them is the only explanation you require."
"I agree."
"Vorin is waking. Now not another word from you."
With great speed and remarkable silence Jasper took up his spot beside the bed. Niles, ever clumsy almost tripped on his shoelaces as he brought a stool to the opposite side.
Vorin's eyes popped open his eyes darting at both men, for the sedating effect of the numb root tea was quick to act and quick to wear off once the drug had run its course.
"There, there Vorin, you're safe... or I should say safer than you have been in many years."
Vorin drew in a deep breath to calm himself. Jasper and eventually Niles placed comforting hands on him. "Bad dreams?"
Jasper gave his apprentice a hard stare to make sure he remained silent. When he looked down at Vorin his expression had softened "More than understandable. Your path has been hard and will rise ever steeper in the Vards that are to follow."
"I do not fear what the future might bring for I have long known why I was born and what the Lady expects of me. Come next spring I will reach the end of my path for good or ill."
"You can't give up like that!" Niles shouted. How could Vorin of all the Land had given life to believe that those he was dear to would abandon him as the Lady would? Must to his surprise his master was smiling at him.
"My apprentice is right. The Lady might be a cruel mistress to serve but given the quest she has tasked you I will choose not to join you in your despair."
"There is no despair entwined with the thread of my soul, nor will there ever be. Still, you both cannot blame me for wishing otherwise."
"No wonder you're such a shrew. You want to despise us but you can't, can you? All too willingly you have drank the bitter lies of that thrice damned druid and eaten what moldy crumbs of one of many paths that you might take.
"If I possessed the power to divert you from the Lady's path you would have lived without knowing a day of suffering."
"No, Master Jasper. Even if you could have done so you wouldn't have. When I first came to this valley I was but a lump of iron without shape or purpose. In the years that have passed I have seen and learned much, nothing of greater importance than the suffering of the innocent.
"If you had taken me off the path the Lady set me down would I have become who I am now? Would I be willing to risk the thread of my very soul to try to save the Land from the coming Reckoning? It does not matter that I like you lack the power to prevent the horrors are to come.
You both are right. My path will not end before Thaw of this year's spring. The time will come when the road the Lady prepared for me will come to an end and I will have to make a terrible choice. Will Morta end my part in this tale with the same of her shears or will I beseech Nona to continue spinning the silken thread of fate so I might venture away from all paths to act freely against will of the gods, regardless of the crushing burden it will place on me?
"If I had lived an easy life you both know the choice I would make. While the suffering of the people has been so hard to endure, such heavy blows have turned the lump iron I once was into a sword wish to become.
"The only pain I wish not to endure is that by venturing off my path to walk into the wilderness of the unforeseen will be taken as betrayal."
"You must not think so dear Vorin. It takes unknown courage to leave all paths. If you do as you intend, every great power in the Land will see you as their most threatening enemy for you will become a force that not even the gods will be able to control. So that all who love you are not caught up in the war that is to come, you have no choice but venture into an unforeseen wilderness. There no king, Emperor, Seers, Oracle, or even god will not be able seek vengeance against those who choose to follow you into the unknown."
"But not all will choose to follow after me. There will be those who would rather sacrifice their soul to whatever power they believe will bring me back to them. That I will have no choice but to seek their love because they love me so dearly is a bitter task I have no longing for."
Niles let out a snort. While Vorin was far nobler than those who gave him life, there was no need to speak of it as such a great sacrifice. The half elf was not alone in the Land who felt as he did and none of those who truly love him would betray that love. The Baron certainly wouldn't, nor did he believe would his master. He at least would remain ever loyal no matter where Vorin's feet led him. "I will never abandon you Vorin, this I swear with my very soul."
Looking away from Jasper, he saw the sincerer tears running streaming from the blond youth's eyes. "I know you won't, not of your own free will. But just as I should not dwell on the terrible things that might happen neither should you. I know of you Drago Nightstone; who you once where and what you aspire to become in this life.
"The Seers believe that time moves in circles much like a spinning wheel. Their gift of foresight is based on the idea that events of the past and those of the future are one and the same and therefore very predictable. Saint Gregory preached that his people's future can ever be found higher up the mountain of his people's rising faith in him. The Darkling followers of Vor live out their reckless lives denying both the truth of the wheel and the mountain. They hold that all of time, past present and future is nothing more than a flat empty plain where one rises and falls of their own free will only for as long as they live, for when they die they believe that history will once again be flat and empty."
"And the Elves?" Niles asked.
"Ah the Elves... they believe all three is true. Like the followers of Vor, they hold that only the individual can decided his future, but like the Seers they know that for every golden age there will be a terrible fall. Such was the case before man reached the shores of Mir and it remained true even after. Still, while they believe no living thing can act only for the better good of their people, they cling to the hope that events both great and terrible will raise them and the children of Saint Gregory closer to an eternal age of peace and plenty... at least that is what I have been taught by, as Master Jasper put it, that thrice damned Druid."
"Your pardon Vorin. I did not mean to speak ill of your teacher but I must still warn you to not take all he claims as absolute truths. Ezekiel and his kind are idealists by nature which leads them to ignore the darker history of their past."
"I know, Jasper. I have more than one teacher. There's the Lord Baron for one. Like you, he looks upon the past through pessimistic lens. You and the baron share the same dark history, suffering near mortal wounds because both elves and men have never seen your kind for what you really are."
"Not all the children of men and elves, my dear Vorin. You might be the only one who knows the true history of my people but perhaps it will only take the actions of one such as yourself to see an end to our suffering. That is what was promise made to us so long ago."
Vorin chuckled. "And you tell me I should not worry what the future might bring. How can I not worry when you and your kind have placed you people's continual survival on my shoulders?"
"I did not mean to my dear. That you are with us now, that we are here now, fulfills all that was promised to us by one greater than all others."
"And you say he has nothing to worry about. I'm near frantic because Landis hates me."
"Young Niles... he does not hate you. He just doesn't remember you as well as you remember him. Whether or not his thread will become entwine with yours again only you can decided."
"But I've already decided. I still love him as I always have."
"Do you? Can you swear by the thread of your soul that there never have been those just as dear to you? Have there not been those you've loved dare I say more than you ever loved your Landis?"
"He was all that was left to me, not once but twice."
"I know my apprentice. I wish I could promise you that this time things will be different, but I can't."
Vorin was the next to speak. "Master Niles...you know better than most what immediate future has in store for me and so does Lord Regis. If you can you should go to him. You seem to be walking a similar path as his."
"Master?"
"Twenty days hence. From what you have told me I think you will find this season's Fool's Feast quite more interesting than the previous ones. Now go and rest my apprentice. For the next three days you will need your strength and all the skills I have taught you if you are to make a proper costume for yourself."
"You will let me design my own clothes?"
"Just this one time. After all you didn't do too bad a job with your first coat."
"Coat!" Niles slapped a palm over his mouth, dashing back downstairs and out the backdoor. How could he have left the coat he was so proud of buried under Master Halcyon's garbage?
Twice on the way he tripped on an uneven cobblestone, no worse the wear. Though his skinny frame suggested fragility he had not managed to survive years as one of the Tallyman's personal slaves because he was weak.
On reaching the proper street, he darted into the alley believing he would arrive before the trash wagon's driver. When he saw the spot behind the townhouse empty, he let out a thunderous wail causing shards of broken glass raining from the sky.
Before he could recover his breath a dark mist surrounded him and just as quickly dissipated, where he found not in the alley but back within the safe walls of his master's workshop painfully in the steel vice like grip of the Tailor.
"What have you done?" There was no kindness or love in Jasper's voice, only the cold emotionless tone of approaching death.
"I... I lost my coat."
"You also seemed to have lost all your wits. If I had not come as fast as I did you would have put all of us at such risk that we would have no choice but to reveal ourselves to these superstitious fools."
"I... I lost my coat."
"You could have always made another one."
"I..." Feeling something familiar running down his face, Niles touched a burning cheek and showed Jasper the gold ichors that was now staining his fingers. "The coat has my blood on it."
Jasper flung his apprentice across the workshop, Niles body colliding among the racks of fabric where he collapsed. Oh there would be hell to pay but Jasper still possessed enough sense to know he would be the one who would pay the price. On the stairs that led down into the backroom was his half naked, bandaged, and now enraged patient.
"How dare you harm him Drago Nightstone?"
Hearing the tense fury in Vorin's voice, Jasper's rage and strength abandoned him; his body joining Niles on the hard workshop floor. "Forgive me Vorin. I never..."
"You never what... never meant to harm your brother or never wanted me to see what I have just witnessed."
"Neither Master Vorin. I never wanted to give you just cause to hate or fear Master Jerome."
"How can you expect me not to when I know who you and Jerome once were?"
"That might be true in my case but you have no just reason to believe Jerome is still the man he once was... his father, yes, but not him."
"I wish your words would free me of all doubts I have but I do not think any promising words can, not after this."
"That isn't fair, Vorin. I know all too well what Ezekiel has told you about all of us and though most of it is true, it is only his truth. It doesn't have to be yours."
"Once again, I wish I could believe that Master Jasper. But if much of the monster you once were remains within you, how can you claim the same will not prove true for Jerome."
"Because he isn't. I and Niles might remember out pasts all too well but you and Jerome never have."
"And I continue to pray to the Lady he never does."
"But he will, Vorin, just as one day you will remember who you once were and one day become."
"Not from you I won't and I forbid you from ever telling Jerome anything."
Jasper could not hold back a snickering chuckle. "You should not fear that I will do so. That special honor is to be yours alone, as the Lady has demanded."
"Do not mock about such things with me, Nightstone. Be it the father or the son I tell, the choice I must make will forever haunt me."
"As I`ve said before, the: Lady did not show you any kindness by leaving the choice to you. But she did, putting on you the burden of having to witness all the repercussions of your choice those both good and ill."
"So you would have me pick Jerome, regardless of what such a choice will do to him."
"I don't know and neither do you. What we both know however is what will happen if you choose his father."
"But should one not keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"
"If you feel certain that doing so will allow you to protect all who are dear to you. But think on this first... would it really be best for the Land and all who dwell on it for you to choose to empower an evil we all know too well or one who only has the potential to become even more corrupt."
"If I pick Jerome I will not be able to control him."
"Only through force you won't. Look at it this way, who do you think you will be able to influence more, a soulless man who only sees you as a means to an end, or one who would love you if you would only let him."
"I have thought on all you have said so far but none of your words lessen the love I have for the Baron nor can mere logic deny the one with just as strong claim on me."
"Jasper dropped and shook his head. So Vorin already knew or at least suspected who the other one was. That should not have been much of a surprise. But who would be the one and when will he make his claim? Would it be before or after Vorin made his choice between father and son? Would it make any difference either way? It wouldn't. The choice might not come until Vorin reached the end of the Lady's path but would the goddess risk Vorin making no choice, let alone any choice other than the son.
Vorin's torment was pointless. The half elf had known since the beginning that Jerome was the only choice he could make that would not doom their world. That didn't mean he was all that happy about it. Go get your things, Niles. I do not see either of us returning here very soon.
Niles gave Jasper a wary look and nodded before bounding up the stairs. He didn't own much, but what he did have were precious to him. Besides a few pair of trousers, tunic's, and a riding boot, he also owned a collection of miniature stone dragons, each of different colored granite, a bakers dozens in all. These he put into the pouch where he kept most of his coins.
By the time he had returned downstairs Vorin was standing within the alley with no sign of Jasper.
"Come,"
Doing as he was asked, the tailor's apprentice followed Vorin out beyond the western gate and towards the trash heaps where Old Cess dwelled. There was the issue of the missing coat that needed taking care of.
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