Michael Mathias - The Wizard and the Warlord

Phen didn’t think that the term elven woman described her very well. She appeared far too young to be considered a woman grown, but he understood the desire to be accepted by one’s peers. “Of course,” he told her. “We can send a rider or two to Vaegon’s Glade. They can leave your message there. Your people will find it.”

Again she felt the tremor of memory as Phen spoke. Vaegon-the name seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she didn’t know who he was, or why she recognized the name.

“Who is Vaegon?” she asked before the thought left her.

“He was a friend of Hyden Hawk and King Mikahl,” Phen said reverently. “The only elf who concerned himself with helping stop the demon wizard from using Xwarda’s powerful bedrock to destroy the world. Lord Gregory said it was because Hyden saved his life the year before last at the Summer’s Day festival, but both Hyden and Mikahl said that it was more than that. They think of Vaegon as a hero of the realm. He died fighting a Choska on the wall in Xwarda.”

The stirring in her mind continued, but never centered on anything. The idea that only one of her people would stand up against such an evil foe seemed to block out the rest of it. For a long time she chewed on her cheek and thought.

Phen found his adolescent mind wandering in the wrong direction again, so he busied his mind with the thoughts of the Leif Repline and of hopefully getting to see Hyden Hawk soon. Oarly broke the silence this time when he stormed into the little cabin. The dwarf seemed uplifted by his stint of the air above.

“You love birds need to get ready,” Oarly said excitedly. “The fork is in view, and the rumor is that there’s plenty of wine, so don’t dally.”

It was midday before Corva slipped back into consciousness. Dostin had carried him a long way through the swamp following King Mikahl. Mikahl didn’t remember Dostin from his short stay on the Isle of Salaya, but Dostin remembered the High King and his legendary sword. He wanted to ask a thousand questions but was too nervous and overburdened with Corva’s weight to get them out of his mind. By the time they stopped, the monk was so out of breath that he couldn’t talk.

“This is a deep enough channel to be reached by river boat,” Mikahl told the monk. He couldn’t believe that the man had carried his elven friend through the night. It was a valiant accomplishment. The monk hadn’t so much as complained. As a matter of fact, Mikahl was sure that Dostin hadn’t even grunted or made a sound at all.

After Corva was laid in a comfortable looking position, King Mikahl gave Dostin back his makeshift staff and used Ironspike to start a fire. “Watch over him. I'm going on to Low Crossing. Wait here.”

“Are you coming back?” Dostin asked fearfully. He suddenly blushed and took a knee. “Your Highness,” he added.

“A boat will be along for the two of you soon. I’ll see to it personally. Just keep putting grass on the fire so they can make out the smoke.” Mikahl gave his best reassuring smile. He started to say something about the monk kneeling, but was too exhausted. For a long while he just watched Dostin. “Get up, my friend,” he finally said after he realized that Dostin wasn’t going to get up until he told him to. “If you want to meet up with the elven girl, she will be in Dreen in a day or two. You are welcome to stay at the castle there, both of you. You helped the realm with your bravery and skill. I am in your debt.”

“You saved us from the priest’s cage, so we are even,” Dostin replied without thinking about it. “How do you know about Telgra? Do you know the short man and the heavy one who are helping her?”

It took Mikahl a moment to figure out that the monk was talking about Phen and Oarly. “How could you know about them?” he asked.

“Corva saw the tracks and told me it was a big, heavy man with little feet and a really short man who helped her into a boat.”

“Corva is an excellent tracker then,” Mikahl nodded. “That’s exactly what happened. She is on her way to Dreen with two of my most trusted friends. Should I give her a message? I will see her later this day.”

Dostin scratched his head and thought about it. “Tell her to wait for us in Dreen. Corva and I will come along as soon as we can.” He glanced at Corva. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Aye,” Mikahl nodded. “He’ll come around. I will tell your friend Telgra to wait for you. If you stay put until a boat gets here, you should be safe. Tell Corva I said thank you for his help and that he is welcome anywhere in my kingdom, as are you, mighty Dostin.”

Mikahl laughed at his choice of words. The brave monk was mighty.

He looked at the sky. The sun was starting up into the day with vigor. “I’m off, my friend,” he said. He checked to make sure that the broken Spectral Staff was still lashed to his back, then he drew Ironspike. At once, the bright horse appeared under him, and in a single rising leap he was off.

He flew straight to Low Crossing and ordered a boat to be immediately sent to pick up Dostin and Corva. “Treat them like royalty and escort them directly to King Jarrek,” Mikahl ordered. “Tell him to have the monk and the elf escorted to Dreen as soon as possible.”

The boat captain gave a head bow and promised to comply with his orders. After that, Mikahl was on his way to Dreen where his young queen waited.

“Where are we?” Corva asked after he fluttered his eyes open and saw that they weren’t near the ceremony grounds and it was broad daylight. His head had a throbbing, egg-sized lump on it. His fingers discovered how tender it was when they found it.

“Oh, hello, Corva,” Dostin grinned happily at the elf. “We’re waiting on a river boat right now. Telgra is on her way to Dreen, and we are supposed to see King Jarrek for help getting there. The High King says that we get to stay at his castle. He says that he owes us for helping him.”

“Shhh,” Corva hissed with a half grin on his face. Dostin’s voice made his head hurt worse. He'd always wanted to see the great city of Castlemont. The elves who had seen it all agreed that it was a wonder to behold. The idea that he was about to betray his Queen Mother, though, wasn’t lost on him. He decided that even she had to agree that if Telgra was in Dreen, he had to go get her.

Dostin loaded grass on the fire. The pillar of smoke it created was reassuring, but the amount of insects and strange noises around them kept them uneasy. When the old river boat finally arrived, they both found they couldn’t wait to get on it.

Phen was too heavy to ride a horse so they had to take a horse-drawn wagon from Fork to Dreen. The only wagon available had just been used to haul a load of fruit to the docks at Fork. The bed was sticky and pungent and was drawing insects. Luckily, the farmer put Phen on the bench seat in the middle. He drove his two-horse team from Phen’s left, and Karee road under her hood on Phen’s right. Oarly was too drunk to mind the bed of the cart.

Phen offered to pay the farmer handsomely for the trip, but the man wouldn’t hear him.

“It’s my pleasure to give Marble Boy and his companions a ride,” the farmer replied proudly. “My boy Brendley was sacked at Seareach by those Dakaneese bastards. A ride is the least I can do for you, sir.”

During a rough section of road about halfway through their journey, they were jostled to and fro dramatically. The driver looked back over his shoulder to the wagon bed and cringed. Nervously, he nudged Phen, who followed the farmer’s pointing finger with his eyes.

Phen burst out laughing at what he saw. The farmer visibly relaxed and continued urging the horses along.