A Paladin's Journey Ch. 19

Erik nodded, smiling at the friendly jibe. "I was wondering that. Thank you for clarifying." He stood slowly, careful not to disturb the stack of pages. "I was searching for you yesterday, and today."

Amina inclined her head, confirming this was not news to her. "I know. I was busy with Ayla. You have heard what happened?" She meant Sara. When Erik confirmed, she went on. "The girl takes much of my time, now. She is progressing quickly, however. Much more so than I expected. It is almost enough for me to awaken Tavish. Almost." Shaking her head, she straightened and swayed toward him.

Erik heard himself moan as they embraced and shared a deep kiss. Remembering what he needed to tell her, though, he gently and reluctantly pulled back a little. One more second of that, and he would lose himself in her. Her sapphire eyes searched his as she read him. "What troubles you?" Erik's heart thumped in his chest. Did Amina even know Palavus was alive? What would her reaction be? "Erik?" She said, concern in her crystalline voice. "What has you so afraid? Are you in danger?"

For his loyalty to Amina, he was going to break his word to Palavus. Silently, he apologised to the Paladin, wherever he may be. "We found him," Erik whispered. "Palavus."

For a moment Amina did not respond, but she finally smiled. "I wish that were true, child, but that is impossible. Palavus has been dead for centuries." She released him from the embrace and stepped back slightly.

Erik took a deep breath. Was he sure about this? Completely and utterly? He found the words tumbling from his lips on their own. "Forgive me, Priestess, but did you ever see his body?"

Her smile turned sad, and Erik hated himself for making her feel that way. "No, I did not. But I felt the pain of him leaving this world. Leaving me." She finished softly, barely a whisper. Her gaze had turned inward, as if remembering that pain. "We were amatharn, you see. Like Aran and Elaina. It is a powerful bond, and one does not mistake the feeling of it being broken."

"We were in Suravale," Erik explained. "There was a house there, in better shape than the others around, like someone had been living in it. A man came, tall and good-looking, with eyes as blue and hair as golden as yours." He went on, telling her everything as clearly as he could remember. Amina's expression changed slowly as he spoke, and when he got to the part about Sylvia feeling the echo of a vala, she sagged visibly as if struck, and would have fallen if Erik had not caught her and lowered her to the ground.

"He wouldn't have," she murmured as Erik set her back against a shelf and knelt beside her. Eyes wide, her face was a picture of shock, her beautiful features decidedly pale. Erik had never seen her so out of countenance; it was alarming to say the least. "He wouldn't have!" She said, more firmly this time. Her gaze sharpened, and she turned it on him, pinning him to the spot with twin augurs. "What else?" She asked him.

Erik answered her, his voice sounding distant in his own ears. May he be damned for uncovering centuries of pain in someone he loved so dearly. "He told me to keep his existence a secret from you. He said it was better for everyone if he remains forgotten." His heart ached as a tear welled in her eye and fell down her cheek. "I'm so sorry." He knew why she was sad; if Palavus wasn't dead, that meant he had somehow cut himself off from the vala and Amina willingly. What would it be like to be alone for a thousand years, and then discover that the one closest to you had been alive all this time? If Amina's heart wasn't breaking all over again, it had to be close to it. More tears fell, and Erik watched, not knowing what to do or say. Perhaps there was nothing. Never had he felt so helpless.

She pushed herself to her feet slowly. Erik held onto her arm; she still seemed a little unsteady. She pushed him off, though, and straightened her robe as she took a deep breath. Her composure returned quickly; Erik's admiration for her increased as he watched her return to her normal self.

"Whatever you need, I will do," he told her with as much certainty as he could muster. When she looked at him, he saw something in her had changed, as if she had let go of something she'd been holding for a long time.

"I know," she said quietly, touching his face. "Here is what I need, Erik arondur; gather the others and ready them for travel. It is time for Amina Moonsong to enter the world once again." At that, she strode from the room, leaving Erik standing in stunned stillness. Something told him that if she ever found Palavus, the man would have much to answer for.

"Moonsong," he heard himself whisper as he gently retied the leather cord around the pages he'd just read. All this time with Amina, and he'd never thought to ask about her second name, or if she even had one. It had a nice ring to it.

***

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19.2: The Third Ring

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Maloth appeared in the centre of a hard-packed circle of earth surrounded by lush grass. Nearby was a building all of smooth white stone, set with tall arched windows. The glass in those windows flashed as they reflected the lightning that spidered across the roiling black sky above; the hallmark of Maloth's presence. He came to this world when he dreamed, of late, but this was his first time at this particular location. Was it a real place, in the waking world? Or was it something he had created in his mind?

Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs and filtered the scents of the area through his nose. There was the coolness of the wind, the heaviness of the air beneath the storm, and the usual, more subtle scents of the earth, trees and grass. But one overpowered all the others; the prickling, agitating scent of arohim, hot and sharp in his nose. It was strong here, very strong. Almost as if more than one had gathered in this very spot not long ago.

Turning in place, he studied the area. The house and yard were encircled by an eight-foot wall, made from smooth, round stones. The wall was so overgrown with mosses and vines that the stone was almost completely hidden in places. What was this place? It wasn't until Maloth studied the building that he noticed the sunburst emblazoned in gold on the door. The same sunburst on the cloaks of the ones who had killed his mother, so long ago.

He felt a cold smile cross his face as his fingers brushed the gold inlay in the polished blackwood door. "This was your home, wasn't it, brother?" He murmured as he pushed the door open and walked inside. There was no evidence that the Anarion had lived here, but somehow, Maloth knew it for truth. "I will find this place," he said aloud as he stalked the halls. Barely more than a hovel, it was hardly the grand abode he had imagined the arohim living in. "And burn it to the ground."

He stopped in the dining room to stare at a painting hanging on the wall between two arched windows. It was of a man, tall and noble, with fiery hair and piercing blue eyes. He was all in white, with a gold sunburst blazing on his breast and a sword of fire clutched in his fist. That blue stare held Maloth fast, as if it had a power over him.

Maloth remembered the eyes of his father well. Embrace my legacy, that stare seemed to implore from within the painting. You are more than what you are. Maloth ignored it.

"You were too weak, father," he told the man in the painting. "Too weak to save us. To save mother. I will not be." Something flickered deep inside him, warm and uncomfortable, stirred to life by ancient memory. He shoved it down mercilessly and covered it with cold, hard resolve. "I reject your feeble power. When I find my half-brother, I will kill him."

Maloth thought he heard laughter, dark and grim, echoing from somewhere else. It happened sometimes, that and faint whispering just on the edge of hearing. Perhaps he was losing his sanity, or perhaps he was evolving beyond what he was used to. Either way, it would not stop him taking what he wanted. Leaving the room, he made his way back outside and continued his exploration of this strange world.

***

Elaina took a long pull from the heavy pewter mug in her hand and placed it back on the polished stone table. This Dwarvish ale was quite good, and she was on her third round already. After walking the streets of Dun'Arghol for hours on end, she'd finally settled on a tavern where she could eat and have an ale. This establishment - simply called 'The Royal' - was a lively place, though short of raucous. Elaina had been here over an hour and hadn't seen one fight, or even so much as a harsh word. The patrons were well-dressed, not as elegantly as nobles, but certainly more so than the working class.

She was seated at a booth in the back corner from which she had a good view of the whole room. A long stone bar stretched the length of the room on one side and a roaring fireplace at either end kept the cool mountain air at bay. Patrons sat atop stools along the bar, talking and laughing with the barmaids, whose necklines were slung low enough to threaten full exposure, though in Dun'Arghol, that was nothing to sneeze at. Dwarves believed in flaunting their assets, and Elaina was happy to enjoy the view. She had walked past more than one tavern promoting nude waitresses, but as much fun as that would have been, Elaina wanted somewhere quieter, at least for today.

On a small stage at the other end of the room a male and female Dwarf sat on comfortable chairs and played soft music, the man puffed expertly on a gold-chased silver flute while the woman plucked elegantly on the strings of a harp as tall as she would have been standing up. Both were dressed in flowing robes of palest yellow, and the material was so sheer that the lines of their bodies beneath were clearly visible. Lower down the mountain, such entertainment would be considered boring, and the musicians would be naked or close to it, but up here on the third ring, this is what passed for titillation.

As she sat staring idly into her mug, a burly Dwarf strode up to her booth confidently, his dark eyes twinkling beneath bushy brows. Beneath his beard, braided in thick knots down to his middle, his broad chest was covered in a neatly embroidered leather vest, but the lack of undershirt left his thick arms bare. Strangely - for a Dwarf - he had little in the way of chest hair. He clutched two mugs of ale in his big hands, and Elaina allowed herself a quick once over of the fellow before politely waving him away. She wasn't in the mood for that. Well, not enough to invite him to sit, anyway. He took the gentle rejection in good humour and inclined his head before moving off.

It wasn't his fault; even with her vala suppressed, she knew what she looked like. The grace of Aros did not lend itself to ordinary features, and while she did not often think of her own appearance - well, no more than any woman would - she was aware of the effect she had on men, and no few women. Her own desires had not vanished by any means; on any other day, she would have happily entertained that Dwarf for an hour or two, but today the only Dwarf man she wanted to see was Burin, but his healing was taking more time than anticipated.

She grimaced as she remembered the look in the king's eyes as he'd attacked her; a glimpse into the void of chaos and malice that was Maharad. She took another draw of her ale to settle her suddenly sour stomach, and when she lowered the mug, she saw Noah standing there, looking down at her curiously. "Not the place I expected to see you in the middle of the day," he said blandly as he unslung his bow and quiver and propped them up against the wall next to Elaina before sitting down opposite her without asking permission.

She eyed him quizzically as she thumped the now empty mug back down with the clink of pewter on stone. Like everything else in this city, the furniture in the Royal was all stone, though there were soft cushions on the seats, thankfully. She wished she had the presence of mind to truly appreciate the delicate, meticulous work the Dwarves put into their craftmanship. With luck, she would visit Dun'Arghol again some time.

"Not the place I usually occupy," she responded. "At least, not often." That was the truth, if ever a true word was spoken. Twenty years isolated in the Emerin forest, and no time to patronise taverns and inns since she'd left. "Though I do enjoy an ale and a meal when I can." A pretty serving girl appeared at the table to take the empty mug, and Elaina nodded in confirmation when the girl asked if she wanted another. "Better make it two," she added before the girl hurried off.

"What makes you think I want an ale?" Noah asked, his expression so flat that without her vala, Elaina couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. The look in his eyes was almost challenging, though not quite. Perhaps direct would be a better word.

"Why else would you be in a tavern?" She chuckled. "Unless you're just hungry?"

He shook his shaggy head. "No, I've eaten. I was actually looking for you, but I will drink with you, if you wish it. Tracking your movements is thirsty work; you move around quickly."

She frowned. "You were following me? Why?"

Noah leaned back in his seat and folded his lean arms across his chest. "Not following. Learning. I am curious about you, Elaina, and about your-" He paused and glanced around to make sure he wasn't being overheard. "Kind."

Elaina's frown dissipated. "Why didn't you just ask me?" She told him earnestly. "You saved my life, and in doing that, you have probably saved much more than you'll ever know. I would have happily answered your questions, provided it didn't endanger anyone close to me."

Noah's lips curved in the beginnings of a smile. "While I appreciate your forthcoming nature, Elaina, I much prefer to observe from a distance. People are their natural selves when they do not think they are being watched."

Elaina's lips twisted wryly. "You should be a bloody spy," she muttered. "So, what did you see?"

"I saw you," he replied cryptically. "And that is enough for now." The serving girl reappeared with the fresh mugs, and he took one, offering the girl a brief smile in thanks, though his gaze didn't linger on her excessive cleavage like most men's would.

Elaina took her own mug but didn't drink right away. She had read Noah with her vala at their first meeting the other day; she knew he was trustworthy, even though his manner needed a little refining. Still, he was not a man used to people, and she could appreciate that more than many. Did she see something of herself in him?

She was about to tell Noah why she was drinking at a tavern in the middle of the day when a procession of royal guards bustled in from outside, all in gleaming, silver-worked armour and spears held slanted across chests. They formed a small perimeter right there in the common room, and Elaina almost dropped her mug when Burin entered behind them, dressed in fine silks. He had a crutch beneath one arm which he used to keep the weight off the side of his body where Elaina had knifed him.

No sooner had the guards spied her than they made their way over, shooing patrons out of the way until half the common room was empty. Whispers spread like fire around the room, hushed voices exclaiming in surprise at the presence of the king himself. Elaina stood, as did Noah, but Burin bade them sit as he hobbled over. His wounds did little to diminish his commanding presence, and Elaina noticed with pleasure that the king seemed more himself than he had been since she'd arrived here.

One of the guards hurried over with a wooden chair procured from somewhere and placed it down for the king to sit at the end of the booth. A moment later, another guard placed a mug before him. "I've tried it for poison, sire," the guard said gruffly.

Burin grunted but thanked the fellow. "Bloody fools," he muttered as the guards moved back a little way to give them privacy. "One incident happens, and they think every shadowy niche hides an assassin and every mug and morsel poison." He drank deeply, and when he lowered his mug, his moustache had taken up some of the foam. He wiped it away with a grin. "Ah! That's better! Bloody healer won't let me near so much as a drop in the palace. Woman has me all but tied to the bed! The only reason I'm out at all is she is attending Lord Einfir. Something up with his stomach, I understand." Burin eyed Noah, then, as if seeing him for the first time. "What under the Mountain are you doing here?"

Noah opened his mouth to reply, but Elaina interjected. "I owe him a life debt, Highness. The least I could do is offer him a drink." Noah watched the king warily, as if unsure whether he should be here.

"A life debt, ey?" Burin said flatly. "Is that why you are all the way down here in the third ring when you should be hunting darkspawn in the palace?" Dun'Arghol was built in a tower of tiers called 'rings' that ascended the mountain, with the first tier as the palace itself, while the lowest tier, the tenth ring, held the forges and foundries and the like. The wealthier you were, the higher the ring you lived on. To move up a ring was a significant even in a Dwarf's life, if it happened at all. To move down was a mark of shame, and the further up you were before you were moved, the greater the shame.

"I invited him," Elaina lied, shooting Noah a quick glance. "I wanted to know more about the man who saved my life. I will assist him with the darkspawn hunting to make up for the lost hours."

Burin considered the offer for a moment, then shook his head. "Do not concern yourself with it, Elaina," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "If Stoneman is your man now, then I will find someone else. I owe you that much, at least." Noah raised a curious eyebrow at that, but that was all. Burin took another swig, then continued. "I was about to make the announcement, but I wanted to speak with you personally before I did."

"What announcement?" Elaina asked, a flutter of excitement surging in her chest. Could Burin finally be seeing sense? He did seem different; his eyes were clearer, and the dark circles beneath had all but vanished.

The king leaned in close and smiled at her. "The Dwarves will march, Elaina arohim," he whispered. Elaina completely surprised both the king and herself when she leaned in and kissed him right on the mouth, even as she was laughing with joy.

"Thank you!" She told a bewildered Burin as she held his face in her hands. "The Dwarves may yet turn the tide against the swelling darkness." Across the table, Noah's jaw was hanging open, probably due to Elaina's display.

"Yes, well," Burin responded, clearing his throat. He took her hands in his own and gently removed them from his face. "While I would usually welcome such attention from a woman such as yourself, Elaina, I am not in the habit of doing so in common rooms, if you understand." Nodding quickly, Elaina leaned back, though her happy smile appeared stuck on her face, for now. "My scouts say the Emerin forest is in upheaval, and the southern Sorral plain is under threat from both darkspawn and Heralds. I assume it is in this direction we must travel?"

We're going to do this, Aran! Elaina crowed internally. We're going to win! "All true," she replied. "We believe the war will be fought further north, but the battles will begin in the south. I will accompany your legions, if it is no bother."

"Bother?" Burin scoffed. "To have an arohim in our ranks would be an honour! You would be worth a hundred soldiers, I'll wager!"

"I will come, too," Noah said suddenly. When the king's eyes fell on him, he dropped his gaze respectfully, but his face remained firm. "I am an able fighter, and the best scout for a hundred leagues around. I wish to come, Highness." His words were polite, but he wasn't really asking. Fortunately, Burin merely nodded agreement.