Richard Tuttle - Elvangar

The Khadoran ship slid alongside the dock at Ghala, the morning sun just rising over the eastern sea. Two old men stood apart from the dockworkers that were securing the ship’s lines. Rejji grinned broadly as he saw the two men.

“Plesy! Copi!” smiled the Astor. “How good to see you again.”

“I didn’t think you would dare show your face around here any more,” grumbled Copi. “You turned our village into a city and ran away.”

“Stop your grumbling, Copi,” chuckled Plesy. “The smile hasn’t left your face since Ghala mushroomed into a city.”

“Some things never change,” laughed Rejji as he marched down the gangplank and greeted the city elders. “How is Riktor? I thought he would be on the dock.”

“This ship is unscheduled,” Plesy replied. “My son is off hunting this week. He will be back in a few days.”

“Too many unscheduled ships these days,” groused Copi. “Another arrived just yesterday. Don’t those Khadorans know how to keep to a shipping schedule?”

Rejji flushed with embarrassment as Emperor Marak stepped off the gangplank and stood alongside him.

“We were scheduled to arrive this day to honor the death of one of the city’s founding fathers,” Emperor Marak replied brusquely. “Hasn’t the one called Copi died yet?”

Copi’s eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open as he watched Halman and Gunta come down the gangplank and flank the Torak. He returned his eyes to the Emperor’s face and saw Marak grinning broadly. There was a twinkle of mischievousness in the Torak’s eyes.

“Bah,” grumbled Copi. “Don’t do that to an old man. My heart can only stand so much.”

“Your heart looks like it has been caring for you well,” smiled Emperor Marak. “Tell me of yesterday’s ship.”

“It just dropped off four people,” replied Plesy. “A young woman who calls herself the Star of Sakova and three fellow travelers. She is staying at the Ghala Inn.”

“The old man is alright,” interjected Copi. “He has been demanding to hear all of the old stories of the village.”

“What Copi means is that he has found someone to sit and listen to him tell all of those old stories,” chuckled Plesy.

“Those stories are our history,” retorted Copi. “Temiker is wise to seek out such knowledge.”

“Temiker is wise,” smiled the Emperor as the rest of the travelers filed off the ship.

“Mistake! Bakhai!” greeted Plesy. “You are all back together again. I remember the day the three of you arrived at our small village.”

“That is one of my stories,” grinned Copi, “but I will save it for people who care to gain knowledge.”

Plesy gazed at the other passengers as they disembarked. He did a double take when MistyTrail walked onto the dock, but the man with the hood covering his head held the old man’s interest the most. As soon as the passengers were on the dock, the captain called for the gangplank to be removed. The ship was untied and started to depart.

“Everyone is staying then?” asked Plesy.

“No,” Rejji shook his head. “We will be leaving Ghala as soon as practical.”

“Then we must have a gala festival tonight,” Plesy said. “It is not often that the Astor and our favorite Khadoran lord come to call upon us.”

“He is the Emperor of Khadora now,” Bakhai interjected softly.

“If the Sakovans are well rested,” the Emperor stated, “I think we should leave immediately. We have a full day available to us. Why waste it?”

“No festival?” frowned Copi.

“Not this time,” Rejji smiled as he placed a hand on Copi’s shoulder. “Maybe we will have a new story for you when we return.”

“It better be a good one,” grumbled Copi, although his eyes betrayed his delight at the thought of another tale for his audience.

Rejji led the group to the Ghala Inn. When they entered the common room, the Sakovans were already seated at a table eating the morning meal. Rejji led the group to the table and introduced his party. Lyra introduced Temiker, DarkBlade, and LunarSigh. DarkBlade was an imposing figure. He towered over the Star of Sakova as he stood to greet the newcomers. His rugged face showed no emotion as he nodded slightly to each of the newcomers. He never said a word.

LunarSigh was short and fair. Her eyes twinkled with excitement as she said hello to each newcomer by name. She joined DarkBlade as he moved from the table in response to a nod from Lyra. The two Sakovans took their plates and moved to an adjacent table where they were joined by Gunta and Halman. The four elves joined them, leaving Lyra’s table for the others. The newcomers ordered a meal, and they all discussed the upcoming trip to the Qubari Jungle. Within an hour the group left the city of Ghala and headed towards the jungle.

* * *

Mobi halted the column when they came to a narrow footbridge crossing the deep gorge. The bridge was narrow and composed of old wooden slats. Two ropes ran across the bridge to use as handholds. The roar of a nearby waterfall made normal conversation impossible. Mobi shouted for the riders to dismount and tether their horses.

“The last part of the journey must be on foot,” Mobi instructed loudly. “We will cross in a single file. If you do not care for heights, I would advise against looking down.”

Mobi nodded to Rejji, and the Astor started the procession across the gorge. A great mist rose towards the bridge from the waterfall below. Rejji remembered the day he first crossed the bridge leading to the hidden Qubari city. He had looked down that day as well. Rejji halted momentarily and closed his eyes as the queasiness hit his stomach. He felt the bridge swaying beneath his feet. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes. He continued walking across the bridge, but he no longer let his eyes wander from the opposite side of the gorge.

It took a while for the whole party to reassemble on the far side of the bridge. Mobi was the last to cross and immediately took the lead again. Within a few minutes, the jungle parted and the group emerged in the village of the Qubari. The Qubari guide led them along a long street towards the village center. Villagers flocked to the street and lined it to watch the procession of outsiders. Some of the outsiders had been to the village before, and the villagers called them by name. Each of the Qubari bowed low when the Astor walked by.

When they reached the center of the village, the tribal elders were already assembled. Rejji and Bakhai stepped forward and embraced their grandfather, Chief Dumo. Rejji introduced everyone while villagers spread blankets on the grass of the central square. The Qubari filled the blankets with food dishes and various drinks. After Chief Dumo and the head shaman, Yltar, greeted Emperor Marak formally, they embraced him as one might an old friend. They turned to Lyra and both Dumo and Yltar bowed formally.

“So you are the Star of Sakova,” smiled Dumo. “I have heard much about you. You are welcome in the land of the Qubari.”

“Thank you, Chief Dumo,” smiled Lyra. “This is quite an experience for me. I have heard stories of the Qubari, but no words can give justice to an actual visit. Thank you for your welcome.”

“You have come to visit Angragar?” asked Yltar.

“We have,” nodded Lyra. “I am not entirely sure of the purpose of our visit, but it has been commanded by Kaltara. Thank you for allowing us passage.”

“One does not argue with Kaltara,” grinned Yltar. “Our home is your home for as long as you need it.”

“I think Rejji needs to speak to Kaltara,” interjected MistyTrail. “I bet that is the reason for our trip to Angragar.”

Yltar stared at MistyTrail for a moment and shook his head. “While you are correct about the Astor needing a visitation, it is not Angragar that he must go to. Rejji is Qubari. He must seek Kaltara in our temple here. It is also not up to others to decide when he must do this. It is when Kaltara calls him that is important.”