Iron and Shadow, page 7
part #3 of The Iron Kingdom Series
“Does it hurt?” She asked then, her voice small, like that of a child.
Garyth shook his head. “Not at all.” He lied. Her eyes were flinty and told that she knew he wasn’t being honest.
She glanced down at his injured left side where she knew the more serious wound lay swathed in bandages she herself applied daily. “And your side?”
“It’s fine.” He said staunchly.
Elin shook her head. “Please, Garyth, tell me true.”
He laughed good-naturedly, enjoying her attention and hating that he was beginning to chafe from it. “It’s still sore.” He said seriously. Then, taking her hand from his chest in his, he kissed it. “But it is healing well.” His voice was calm. “I’m fine, Elin.”
Extricating her hand from his grasp, she placed both hands on his face and looked into his eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that.” She said firmly. As always, he found himself lost in her eyes. They were like deep, blue pools that seemed inviting, yet forbidding, mysterious, yet familiar, loving, yet challenging. “What was it like?” She asked intently then.
Startled, Garyth asked, “What was what like?” He asked, though he thought he knew what she was talking about.
“The war…” Elin said. “…the battle…the last battle…” She had removed her hands from his face but her attention was still fully upon him. Both of them knew that she’d never asked him such things before. She hadn’t wanted to know any details, hadn’t wanted to know how many times he’d come close to death.
“Elin…” Garyth began uncomfortably. “I…I don’t want to talk about it.” He shook his head and found her stark regard still upon him. “Believe me…you don’t…” Unbidden, memories flashed through his mind. Fighting orcs, his brother laughing, and the king’s grief as they searched the hills. “You don’t want to know.” He finished wearily. He didn’t realize that tears were sliding down his rugged face.
She nodded, angry with herself for causing him pain. She knew how many had died, including the prince and she certainly did not want to inflict further grief on the man she loved so dearly. “I am sorry, my love.” She said then and wiped his face. Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, she breathed, “I am sorry.”
“It’s alright, Elin.” He replied, trying to banish visions of pain and death from his mind. “I just don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was husky. “I hope to never see war again.” They said nothing for a time and she wept softly as well. They wept for all who had died and those who had been wounded and most of all for brave prince Valun.
She leaned back finally. “I’ll get this ready.” She mumbled as she began to set the food out.
“He was brave.” Garyth said then, thinking of his brother and watching the boy and dog romp through the grass. “He was always brave.” His voice caught but did not break. “He led the charge to help the dwarves on that hill without a thought for himself.” Fierce pride warred with heartache as he spoke and Elin did not speak. She hadn’t wanted to cause him pain but she knew that he’d feel better if he talked about it even a little. “They rode through the orcs and trolls to bolster the dwarves and then he rode right back down to stop them.”
Garyth said nothing else for a time as Elin busied herself with the lunch. Then, still watching his son, he practically whispered. “It’s my fault, really.”
Elin’s head snapped around. “NO.” She said bluntly. “It is not.”
“I quarreled with Lokkmar and he sent me from my post.” He said, guilt and shame staining his speech. “I should have been there.” He looked up with raw, wounded eyes. “I should have been there.” He repeated, as if confessing to a judge.
Elin shook her head emphatically, not allowing her emotions to surface. “It is not your fault, Garyth.” She locked eyes with him then, willing him to believe her words. “You did all that you could and you were there to save the king. If you hadn’t been, then he surely would have died.”
“But…If I had been with Valun…” he trailed off helplessly.
Another shake of her head sent her dark hair to dancing. “If you had been with Valun, you might have both died and the king would still be dead.” She wouldn’t brook argument and continued on. “How many times have you told me that battle is something that no one can control or foresee?”
He nodded, knowing that is was true but remained conflicted. “I just can’t help feeling that if I’d have been there…”
“…but you weren’t and for that I am glad.” Her voice was defiant now as he looked at her. “Yes, you heard me correctly, husband. I am glad that you didn’t die on that hill with your brother.” She wouldn’t let him say a word. “I am sorry that he’s gone, I truly am. I always liked Valun.” Now she cried again as she spoke. “But I am not sorry that you are still alive, Garyth and you shouldn’t be sorry either.”
At a loss for words, he shook his head. Then, after a time, he replied, “I am not sorry to be alive, Elin.” She nodded in satisfaction then. “It’s just that so many good people died in that war. So many didn’t make it back.” Garyth’s voice was a whisper as his mind’s eye saw faces that he would never again behold in life.
“None of that is your fault.” Elin replied forcefully.
“No.” Garyth said then and his expression grew hard. “But Valun’s death can be laid at the feet of Lokkmar. At least in part.” His wife’s face grew wary then. She recognized the resolve in his voice but was glad when he changed the subject a few moments later. “I would like to go and see how things are coming along on the new place soon.”
Elin smiled broadly then. They’d talked about the new estate they were moving to and the house that was being built, of course, but she’d felt like he hadn’t really wanted to discuss it. She was happier to hear him speak of it than she could say. “When do you think we could go?” She asked airily, trying not to let her hopes surface in her voice.
Scratching his beard, Garyth pondered it. “A few weeks, maybe?” He glanced sidelong at her then, seeing her blooming smile. “I’d say by the end of the month for certain.” He shared a smile with her then.
“Do you think the king will really let us go?” Elin said cautiously then, watching her husband’s eyes intently. Garyth had never been a good liar, he was too bluntly honest to have ever gained a knack for it. What she saw there made her happy as he nodded slowly, his smile still in place and his eyes warm.
“I’m sure of it.” He replied nodding. “My father has given me his word and since returning we’ve spoken of it again.” His eyes were troubled. “I didn’t want to bring it up to him but the last time we talked, he reminded me of it. He said that once he feels sure that the roads are safer, he’ll allow his family to travel.”
Elin was happy but almost didn’t want to allow herself to believe it. “And you’re sure that he won’t change his mind?” A note of sarcasm entered his voice. “The king has often done things according his own will and I don’t think he’s overly happy about us leaving.”
Now, her husband shook his head. “He’s different now, Elin.” He ignored the fact that she refused to ever acknowledge the king as his father, even in private. Garyth really couldn’t blame her, he supposed.
“Is it because of that thing from the treasury?” Elin asked.
Garyth’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” He had been stunned at the changes the ancient artifact had wrought in his father and didn’t really know what such magic would do to him in the long term.
His wife gave a little laugh then. “Honestly, Garyth, the whole city knows!” She saw the incredulous look on his face and laughed again, though it wasn’t a spiteful thing. At times, Elin forgot that her husband for all his bluff demeanor and rugged manner had been raised in the palace. “People talk, husband.”
His face was long as he mumbled, “Well, they shouldn’t.”
“And why is that?” She challenged. “The king has done a thing that has only been spoken of in legend.” Elin shrugged. “You can’t expect people not to talk about it.” She knew that he was disturbed by in but in her mind, they had other things to worry about. “Besides, don’t the legends say that any who are unworthy in the eyes of the gods will be instantly slain or something like that?”
Garyth nodded slowly but his voice was noncommittal. “Something like that.”
Recognizing that they’d gotten off topic, Elin firmly redirected. “No later than the end of the month, you think?”
Still lost in thought, Garyth gazed down at the capitol. His voice was steady, however, when he answered her. “Yes.” He said simply. Then, after a few moments, he looked over at her mischievously. “That is, if you’re still able to travel by then.”
With an expression of mock severity, Elin suited her tone to match. “Oh, I’ll be able to travel, my husband.” Then she smiled. “As long as you are.”
Again, Garyth found himself loving his wife for more reasons than he thought he could ever name. “We’ll go soon.” He promised her fervently.
Elin’s smile became a thing of satisfaction and she nodded happily. “Brand!” She called out to her son who was trying to wrestle a stick away from his dog. “Time to eat!”
The little, growing family ate well under that warm summer sun with the hint of a cool breeze. It was a picture of a perfect time and one that they would always remember.
* * *
Urwic was a small town, little more than a village really. It was a quiet, clean little settlement, nowhere near the main roads. It had been founded by farmers and woodsmen and though it had grown, it retained the country values and rustic mindset that it always had. Unlike some such places, however, Urwic was a friendly town. This was perhaps because it had always had good fortune. It had never been overrun by bandits, mercenaries or orcs and for the most part had prospered. The people were friendly, pleasant and outgoing. They knew, of course, about the invasion by the orcs and the war. Some of the young men had even gone to join the Iron Host. Even this didn’t overly trouble the villagers, which an outsider would have perhaps found odd. However, Urwic lay a long ways north of the capital and most of the greybeards and elders agreed that by the time their men reached Vakiun, the war would be over. None of them had any doubts that their king and his armies would destroy the orcs.
Such are the ways of rural people, far removed from the larger events of the world. News traveled slowly to such places, especially with the chaos of war that had enveloped the Iron Kingdom. So it was that no one in Urwic had any idea of the true events that had occurred. No one, to include Princess Naolin.
The princess sat in the village inn, a charming little place that the locals called simply the Tankard, immensely enjoying herself. Naolin found the tavern, like the village itself, to be ‘simply delightful’, as she’d told Leith. The bard had laughed at her but there was warmth there. He’d explained to her that places like Urwic weren’t rare but she’d been enchanted nonetheless. Perhaps it was the fact that the two of them were traveling freely together without escorts or ceremony. At first, she’d felt like she was going to be recognized and had kept the hood of her cloak up to obscure her features. However, with every mile that they put between themselves and Vakiun, those fears shrank. Finally, Leith had informed her with a chuckle that they were in places where no one could possibly recognize her and wouldn’t believe she was the daughter of the king if she tried to convince them. She hadn’t believed him at first. The importance of her identity was, after all, ingrained in her. However, she soon found out how large the world really was. After the first day or two of traveling with her hood thrown back and talking to friendly travelers who hadn’t batted an eyelid at her, she realized that he was right. Now, she sat at a corner table in a fine inn and drank cool ale from the cellar like everyone else.
Of course, what Naolin could not have known was that she wasn’t like everyone else in the tavern. Her clothing was much too fine, of a more expensive weave and cut than even the wealthiest of the villagers could ever have owned. Her regal beauty also set her apart, as well. This was not to say that the town of Urwic couldn’t boast their own beauties but Naolin had a noble air and grace about her that no one from a country town could emulate. The townsfolk found her charming and intelligent as well as kind. They’d seen their fair share of nobles, of course, some snooty and full of themselves and some genuinely likable and interesting. Naolin was certainly one of the latter to their thinking.
Of course, Leith had explained to her that she certainly could not go about using her real name. It was a very old name, associated with the nobility and they were still close enough to the capitol for someone to recognize it. They’d had great fun picking her false name and had finally settled on Dania, her mother’s name. She hadn’t been sure if it would be a good idea but the bard had informed her that it was a fairly common name in the kingdom now. Naolin had been surprised at this fact until Leith had explained. Queen Dania, husband of the legendary Iron King, had been beloved by all the people. Whereas the king was feared and respected, even revered by some, Dania had been truly loved for her kindness and grace. She had always been a champion of the common people and the bard had shocked her with how many stories and songs had been written about the queen. It had thrilled Naolin to the core when he’d sung a few of them to her and warmed her heart to know that her mother was so remembered.
So as Leith and ‘Dania’ had made their way northward from the capitol, they found that no one paid them much attention. Leith was known in many places, she found. This fact worried her, of course, as she thought of her father sending men to find her. It was part of the reason that the bard told her they were going by back roads and stopping at smaller towns and villages along the way. Though they both had a decent bit of coin, he explained to her that they needed to save what they could. Leith had mostly paid their way by performing and the handsome, talented minstrel had no trouble finding work. Such rural places always hungered for entertainment and news of the outside world. Bards had always satiated these things in the Iron Kingdoms and the practice dated back to the skalds of old who carried the rich tradition of the people through song and story.
As she sat listening to the man she loved play and sing to the enthralled locals, Naolin thought that she’d never been so happy. The princess noted the admiring looks that some of the local women threw Leith’s way but knew that she’d had her own share of such attentions from some of the menfolk of Urwic. Naolin was no young maid to go insane with jealousy because of a glance thrown toward her man. Certainly had it gone farther than looking, she’d have had something to say. However, the women of Urwic contented themselves with looking and listening and Naolin contented herself with knowing that his love belonged to her.
As Leith finished his song with a flourish, the tavern erupted with applause. The princess joined in, beaming as Leith bowed to his audience and then walked straight over to her table and bent to kiss her. The applause deepened at the sight of such love and when he finished kissing her, Naolin’s smile was bigger than ever, though she blushed at the attention.
One of the tavern girls came over to their table, blushing a bit herself. “That was wonderful!” She breathed in admiration. The girl was young, perhaps twenty summers and obviously enchanted with the handsome, talented bard. “I’ve always loved ‘Springs First Kiss’!” She said, speaking of the song Leith had just sang.
“Thank you!” The bard said, bowing smoothly again before taking a seat next to Naolin. Neither woman missed the fact that he took her hand as he sat and a warm feeling spread through the princess. Leith obviously wanted everyone in the place to know that he was taken. “It’s always been a favorite of mine as well.” He said genuinely, with a broad grin. Naolin had found that his smile was infectious and the younger woman obviously found it so as well as she smiled back.
“I’m to ask if you’re thirsty.” The tavern girl said then. “Or if you’re ready for supper?”
Leith glanced at Naolin, who nodded and then turned back to the girl. “I think we’ll have both.” He grinned at the princess. “I’m guessing some watered wine for Dania here and perhaps a cold ale for me.” Then he mused aloud. “I believe it was mutton tonight?” When the young woman nodded in reply, the bard gave his thanks and turned his attention back to ‘Dania’, barely noticing as the tavern girl took her leave.
“Mutton again.” The princess remarked quietly after the girl had gone.
The bard chuckled. “Well, this isn’t the capitol, my dear.” He gazed around the tavern. “These people are mostly farmers and herdsmen.” He returned his regard to her, smiling sardonically. “And most of those herdsmen herd sheep.”
“Mm…yes well I am aware of that fact.” Naolin began primly. “I am simply stating that I am a little tired of mutton.”
Leith laughed again. “Well, we’re moving on tomorrow.” He said, reminding her of the plans they’d made. “Do you still want to go to the coast?”
“Yes.” Naolin replied, smiling. “I haven’t been to the ocean in ages.” For several moments she was lost in memories of the last time she’d been to the coast. It had been with her family not long after losing Edric and the trip had not been a pleasant one. She knew that, with Leith, it would be different.
The bard watched the expressions play across the face of this woman that he loved so deeply, thinking that it like watching clouds move across the sky. To his thinking, both sights were beautiful and mysterious. “Good, I know just the place.”
Arching an eyebrow imperiously, Naolin quipped, “And of course, I suppose you’ve been there before?”
“Yes, I have visited it a time or two.” He saw the challenging look in her eyes then. “I have visited many places, you know. I am a minstrel.” He took both her hands then. “It’s a wonderful place, you’ll see. A beautiful little village on the coast where they really know how to live.” He searched her face, again thinking that it was as inscrutable as the sky.
