For three days Daana’s company traveled along the winding dirt road. The flatlands stretched around them in an endless expanse of yellow and tan tundra. The days were warm and the nights were cool, harried by a relentless wind that swept from the south, filling the air with the constant quiver of dry grass.
It was well after sunset. A dense blanket of charcoal gray clouds stretched overhead as far as the eye could see. The moon, a waning sliver of pale light, glowed faintly in the distance, obscured by the overcast sky. Given the late hour, Snag normally would have called it quits and settled down somewhere off the road, but on this particular night he kept going. It wasn’t until they crested a particularly steep hill that Daana realized why. A settlement sat nestled in the shallow valley below, made up of hundreds of clay houses surrounded by a curtain wall of solid stone. Firelight from within the huts poured through the square windows, illuminating the settlement in a warm, homey glow.
Daana sat wrapped in a blanket in front of the cart with Snag. The goblin’s gaze was not focused on the town itself, but the sea of tents encircling the settlement walls. Orange and yellow campfires dotted the dark landscape like stars in a clear dark night. “Don’t like the looks of that,” he murmured, left ear twitching, filling the air with the soft, metallic jangle of hooped earrings. “You’re all seeing this too, right?”
“Aye.” Ashwyn gave a low whistle of approval as she moved to stand alongside Wormy. “If I didn’t know better, I would say Larkspur has amassed herself an army.”
“And that’s our cue.” Ellisar looped her arm through Ashwyn’s and started back down the winding dirt path, calling over her shoulder as she did so, “Daana, it’s been terrible. You’re home safe now. Our part in this is done.”
Ashwyn slid her arm free with practiced ease. “My goddess, Ellie. We’ve come all this way. The least we can do is introduce the poor girl to her mother.”
“Daana defeated the dark entity! Escaped Geralt’s clutches! Burned Alkurth to the ground with a flick of her fingers! She needs no introduction.”
“I don’t believe it.” Daana feigned surprise. “That’s what, two compliments in almost as many days? Ellisar, I fear you must be losing your edge.”
“You wore me down. Congratulations.” Ellisar hooked her fingers through the back of Ashwyn’s belt and continued her futile pulling. “Goodbye.”
Despite Ellisar’s increasingly desperate attempts to usher her along, Ashwyn remained where she stood. The harsh lines around her eyes softened as she twisted her upper body in order to gaze back at Ellisar. “This is because you don’t want to see Larkspur, isn’t it? I was really hoping that after all of this time, you would have set your bad blood aside.”
“She got us captured. And instead of taking any of the blame, she let us stand trial in her stead! And don’t get me started on the fucking ship.” Ellisar ceased her struggle and spun around. Her eyes lacked the fire laced within her words. “Before the Fall was the closest thing I had to a child and she fucking sank it!”
“She wasn’t even onboard when it sank,” Ashwyn reminded her.
“Well it would have been better for us all if she had been!”
“You did love that ship.” The orc tapped her chin as she considered a solution that would appeal to them both. “Look, if you would rather stay out here with the cart, that’s perfectly fine. I’ll pop in, say hello, and then I’ll be out again before you know it.”
“You said the same thing on our honeymoon. Next thing I knew, we were smuggling a cargo load of escapees across the border.”
“That was one time.”
“It was twelve!”
A pearly smile split across Ashwyn’s tusked face. “Made for an unforgettable honeymoon, no?”
Ellisar’s sour expression agreed for entirely different reasons.
“I’d like it stated for the record that I’ve been free a total of twenty-nine days now and I have volunteered us in exactly zero causes, no matter how noble they might’ve been. If you don’t trust me, then you’re welcome to act as my escort.” When Ellisar’s fixed expression refused to budge on the matter, Ashwyn started off without her, gesturing for Daana to follow. “Come on, Peaches. Let’s go spring a surprise family reunion on your mother.”
Daana clambered down from the cart, glancing up at Snag as she did so. “Are you coming too?”
Snag remained seated on the driver's bench, wearing an expression nearly identical to the one stretched across Ellisar’s face. He shook his head no. “As much as I would love to traipse through the middle of an unknown army to meet the elf who’s daughter I sold to her worst enemy, I think it’s best that I stay with the horse, thank you.”
Daana’s heart felt as if it’d been yanked from her chest and stomped on. “You won’t leave without saying goodbye, right?”
His ears flattened against the back of his head as he peered down his nose at her. Despite Snag’s best efforts, a smidge of sadness managed to leak through. Not in his words, of course, which remained as stubbornly apathetic as ever. “I won’t now, I guess.”
“Good. Because I’d never forgive you if you left before I could give Wormy a hug and kiss.” Daana started off down the hill after Ashwyn, noting from the corner of her eye that Ellisar slunk along behind them with slow, reluctant footsteps.
Swaying rows of cotton grass flanked either side of the winding path that led to the front gates. Daana drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders as they followed it past row after row of wedge-shaped tents and into the heart of the encampment surrounding the settlement. The trio’s passage did not go unnoticed. Several figures clad in leather armor stood and watched their progress, content to let them pass in peace. It wasn’t until they reached the gates that anyone bothered to speak to them.
A guard appeared at the top of the gatehouse wall, holding a lantern aloft as they peered down at the trio assembled below. Their greeting was as painfully generic as the giant wood and iron doors barring Daana’s company from entry. “Who goes there?”
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Even after stating their business it took several back and forths for Ashwyn to convince the guard that no, it couldn’t wait until morning and yes, they would like for the Sage Supreme to be roused in the middle of the night just for them. She assured the guard that they really were that special. Ashwyn’s persistence won out in the end and the guard grudgingly disappeared, leaving the trio to stand in the middle of the path and wait.
The wait was unbearably long. Daana was reconsidering spending one last night in the back of the wagon when one side of the double doors drew open with a heavy groan. A small armed party was assembled on the other side, ready to receive them. A faun festooned in a red cloak stepped forward, his bespectacled eyes darting between the three of them before settling on Ashwyn as the obvious leader. “Commander Pride,” he greeted, with clinical coldness.
“Hear that, Ellie? Barely been sprung free of that dungeon a month now and I’ve already earned myself a title. Not sure what for, though.” To the untrained eye, Ashwyn’s smile was easy, almost friendly, but Daana saw the unease that pulled tight around the corners of her slate-gray eyes. “And who might you be, friend? Gotta say, I’m a little disappointed Larky didn’t come greet us herself.”
“I am Havershire, the Sage Superior’s chief advisor. I have been instructed to escort you inside.” The faun was all business, wasting few words and even fewer fucks. Daana couldn’t blame him. From the unkempt state of his salt and pepper gray hair, he’d obviously been dragged out from a warm bed to deal with the riff raff assembled at the gate. “I ask that you bring only your key people. The rest of your forces can make camp outside of the wall, along with the others. There is not enough room and board for everyone.”
“Forces?” Once more, Ashwyn glanced at Ellisar for clues.
The elf merely lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
“That won’t be necessary,” Ashwyn said to Havershire. “ As you can see, it will be just us three. Ellie and I aren’t even planning to stay the night. A quick in and out and we’ll be on our way.”
Something about this caused the faun’s irritated expression to change. He took another gander at the three. Whatever answers he sought, however, did not appear to be found. “Very well,” the faun said, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “As a final request, the Sage Superior asks that you leave your weapons at the gate. You may collect them upon your return.”
This, evidently, was enough to finally break Ellisar from her hostile silence. She edged a daring step forward, snarling, “Is Lark out of her fucking mind?”
The glare the faun shot her way would have stopped an ordinary opponent dead in their tracks. Being that the recipient was Ellisar, it did the opposite, encouraging several more steps from the outraged elf. To his credit, Havershire stood his ground, as if dealing with unhinged swordsmen was simply part of the job. “It is a standard request. And, given the upheaval surrounding the two of you as of late, a sensible one.”
“Oh come on, Ellie. Everyone knows you’re just as deadly with a sword as you are without one. It encourages creativity.” Ashwyn stripped her weapons from her side and delivered them into the awaiting hands of the surrounding guards. Not without instructions, of course. “Do be careful with those, please. They’re family heirlooms. Not mine, of course. But whoever I stole them off of probably cares.”
Daana followed suit, as did Ellisar, albeit with a substantial amount of muttered cursing.
“This way then.” Havershire led as the armored escorts fell into a strategic formation around them.
The trio were escorted through a maze of cramped side streets, crisscrossing their way into the very heart of the settlement at what could have only been the most convoluted way possible. Eventually, after countless confusing twists and turns later, a towering structure rose up over the clay houses. It was three stories high and, unlike the neighboring stone and clay huts, built from wood. The flatlands were tundra, making trees a sparse commodity. The fact that someone had built an entire building out of wood meant the lodge was significant to the town in some way.
Hopefully not a prison, Daana thought, given the way the armed guards kept stealing wary glances over their shoulders at her.
They arrived at the lodge from the back and were ushered through what looked to be the servant’s entrance. Havershire led them through a dark room cluttered with stacked chairs and linens, before crossing over into the main room. Long tables took up most of the interior. There was an unlit fireplace in the corner next to a raised platform with a variety of ornately carved chairs on display. Timber beams stretched high above them, crisscrossing along the underside of the steeply pitched roof.
“Wait here,” Havershire instructed as he dismissed the armed escort with a wave of his hand. “The Sage Superior will be along shortly.”
“You keep saying that like it’s a real title.” Ellisar didn’t hide the disdain from her tone as her gaze wandered the great hall. “Probably made it up herself. Nice to see Larkspur’s ego is as inflated as ever.”
Havershire’s brow wrinkled. His mouth opened, poised to volley venom-laced words, when he thought better of it. Snapping his jaw shut, the aged faun offered a tight-lipped smile before exiting the way he’d come, taking care to close the door in his wake with an ungentle slam.
“Sweet goddess, Ellie. You saw the army assembled outside the gates. You can’t say things like that.” Alone for the first time since entering the settlement, Ashwyn allowed her stiff shoulders to relax. She ran a broad hand over her worried face, uttering, “I don’t know what in chaos is going on but, given the circumstances, it wouldn’t hurt to be on our best behavior for the time be…”
Her voice trailed once realizing Ellisar wasn’t where she’d been only seconds before. Ashwyn’s dark eyes scoured the empty hall for a few panicked seconds before finding her. “What in the goddess’s name are you doing? Get down from there!”
Using the natural grooves in log siding, Ellisar was working her way up the wall like a squirrel to a tree. She reached the nearest beam and jumped for it, pulling herself over until she disappeared from sight entirely. Ellisar’s dry voice called back down, accompanied by a faint echo. “If Larkspur’s going to waste our time playing games, then I am not going to participate. I’m taking a nap. Holler for me when you’re done getting jerked around.”
“Dear goddess, she is going to be the death of me,” Ashwyn muttered under her breath.
Daana left them to argue as she moved to inspect the rest of the space. Judging from the tables, the room appeared to be a formal dining hall. The main entrance was across from her and made up of a pair of grand, ornately carved double doors. There was a third door off to her left which, given the lingering smell of cooked onions and stew, likely led to a kitchen area. Had Ashwyn not advised them to be on their best behavior, Daana might have considered picking the kitchen entrance open and seeing what sort of goods were on offer.
Making a good first impression. Not stealing from your mother, Daana reminded herself as she shuffled along. Eventually, weary from boredom and a lack of sleep, she joined the table Ashwyn was unceremoniously strewn over the top of. Daana plopped down onto the bench seat across from her with a groan. “I’m starting to think Ellisar had the right idea. How long is this going to take?”
Ashwyn spoke with the side of her face plastered against the table. “To your mother’s credit, we did show up in the middle of the night, Peaches. It’s to be expected. A few more minutes won’t kill you.”
“Savor them.” Ellisar’s dry voice rang out from above. “Soon you’ll look back fondly on the time before you met the great Larkspur Denari.”
“I know you can’t see my hands, but I’m holding up ten fingers nonetheless,” Ashwyn replied.
Daana slumped over the table, cradling her head in her hands. She had just started to nod off when the main entrance jerked open behind them, allowing a cold wind to stir the stale air. Daana twisted around, heartbeat drumming loudly in her ears, watching wide-eyed as a sharply dressed figure stormed into the unlit hall, looking fit to set it afire.
“Ashwyn Pride,” the elf’s velvety voice was like spider silk, soft but unbreaking. “What in the seven realms of chaos took you so long?”