Chapter Ten
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"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the Truth. Even if it leads to your Death. Safeguard the helpless. That is your oath,"
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"Bleaaargghhh!"
"Tyra! Are you alright?" asked Harrold in a panic behind her. Her Terran friend and love interest hovered over her like an overprotective bat making if possible, Tyrande even more grumpier.
Currently there was a small frown knotting her forehead and her hands gripped the railing the thrice Elune cursed ship's rail so hard that her knuckles turned pale violet with the force she is applying on it.
It had been twelve hours since their voyage from Darkshore. Tyrande had been the one purposely assigned by Alleia after her promise that night to protect Harrold until they can get back alive so that Alleia can work her magic on him. She just prayed that her best friend won't be dead already the moment she returned. It was also a political move. Sixty Sentinels came with her as an escort together with the six hundred that Harrold had brought with him. It should have been double that number with the six ships that had came with him but rumors north of Moonglade of a group of water elementals harassing the locals gathered by Harrold's squire forced the Grandmaster into sending half his forces there to aid the locals. Tyrande just hoped that that action would endear the Terrans against any hostility pertaining the incident at the Vault and the Betrayer's freeing.
Right now though, the Priestess of Elune had troubles that is much, much worse than a group of raiding Elementals.
She had been informed by Harrold about the "dangers" of sailing ships. She merely scoffed at it. Tyrande is no stranger to sailing boats. She had always made the trip on one of the more graceful Elven ships from Moonglade either to the different islands west of the Elven lands or to the large continent of Darnassus where majority of the vines and food source of the Kaldorei people are grown.
She is however unprepared for the truth of the Templar Grandmaster's words about the real travel on the sea.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine!" snapped Tyrande in a tight voice. The Kaldorei knew he could sense that something is wrong with her. Harrold is one of the brighter heads on the bucket after all, something of a rarity on people nowadays.
"Tyra, are you sure? You really don't seem to be alright?" In fact the High Priestess' is looking rather pale compared to the usual color of her skin. "Don't tell me you're sick? We could always go back to Darkshore to get you-,"
"Yes!" Tyrande's angry voice snapped like a gun on the silence of the sea compared to the waves as her angry face turned towards the culprit who had been bothering her until now. "I am constantly being asked "Are you all right" by an idiot! I really wish-,"
Whatever it was she wished left to say was cut short abruptly as Tyrande's face set into determined lines without warning, clenching her teeth tighter. The fact that the interruption coincided with a larger than normal lurch from Galahad was lost on the honorable Terran. Tyrande ignored him as he cast a worried look on the beautiful Priestess not minding his thoughts. The moment he met her, she had always been brave and brash. She was annoying but proud, able to take down anything on her way. She was all-knowing. She was one of the most capable women that he had come to know.
She was also seasick.
Tyrande shivered again. She understood it now. It was something that afflicted her although it never comes with the calm waters unlike these larger than life ones. It was the uncertainty, she now knew. It was simply mental. When the ship lurched or heaved or rolled, she was always caught unprepared, unable to believe that something so large and substantial could be tossed around so much.
Deep down of course she knew that the current conditions weren't too bad. But in the first long hours of this sea journey, Tyrande's mind can't register the fact that any moment might see a bigger wave, a more sudden lurch, a fatal roll that would go to far. She fervently hoped that once she became accustomed to the idea of the ship moving and recovering, moving and recovering, he would come to terms with her stomach and her nerves. But that would take she only prayed Elune-knows-when.
"In the meantime," she thought grimly. Whatever her reason might tell her, she'd be well served if she stayed with her new best friend at the meantime, the railing. She only wished that Harrold would leave her alone at the meantime. An opposite with what she really want at the moment, for his attention is a thing she desperately craved and not get when Alleia is around. But she couldn't find a way to suggest without hurting the young Templar's feelings. And that was something that Tyrande, proud, gruff at moments, too-snarky and serious as she might appear to be would never wish doing.
The two demons with them Forge and Gred Weadley, Harrold's fellow Templars on this voyage, tall, noisy, and hearty appeared at the railing beside her, breathing the salty air deeply in unison with each other, inhaling and exhaling with great sighs of satisfaction. The two it seemed were not bothered by the sea for some reason and even enjoyed it. A trait that Tyrande thought bordered on lunacy.
"Mmmm! Smell that brother? There's nothing like te sea air to waken us up in an early morning is there?" Fred boomed appearing immediately at Tyrande's side just as she felt her stomach lurch again.
Tyrande only glanced suspiciously at the red-head knowing that he is up to no good again. The Templar simply didn't meet her gaze. Instead he peered out at the sparkling water.
"Right your are brother. Its obviously fascinating. Nothing like it in the entire world!" countered George at the Kaldorei's other side trapping Tyrande between them. Ignoring the murderous looks the Priestess is giving them. He took another deep breathe, studiously ignoring Tyrande's condition then finally said to his twin. "You know what I don't understand Freddie?"
"What don't you understand Georgie?" replied George with a level face as Tyrande went green as another wave hit the deck. He saw no need to answer knowing that his twin will answer it on his own and yank Tyrande's foot at the same time.
"I don't understand how Kaldorei can ride all day on one of those jerking, lurching, jumping, bucking fiends of hell without the slightest problem,"
This time, it earned a response as everyone tried to smother their laughs as they were reminded of the twins' challenge of riding one of the moonsabers that the Sentinels had brought on the Grey Havens. Never ones to resist a challenge, the two made a bet where they can date the sentinel whom the moonsaber they tried if they won and go naked but in their underwear if they lose on the town square. To say that they had been squashed flat by the said nightsaber would be then putting it on an understatement.
"But put them on a smooth, solid, barely moving ship's deck and suddenly their stomachs want to turn themselves inside our at the slightest gentle baby moves,"
In response, another wave hit the side of the ship making it lurch badly that forced barely concealed whimpers from the terrified Priestess who remained rigid as if her feet had been glued at the deck. Seeing no other time than now to tease the Kaldorei Priestess. Fred spoke up:
"Tyra? You're not seasick are you?"
"No!" the Priestess snapped with gritted teeth shortly, not trusting herself beyond one syllable.
"Probably need a bite of breakfast to settle your stomach," George added sagely, unhelpfully and without pity. "Get something solid inside you,"
"Had...Breakfast," This time, Tyrande managed three syllables but with some difficulty. George merely acted as if he didn't hear her speak.
"Cheese is good. Especially cheddar cheese. Sits on the gut nicely," he suggested smacking his lips appreciatively. "Goes well with a nice piece of greasy boar's meat. You do boar's meat here right? I mean... AAAHHH!"
He never finished as he suddenly found himself flying downward to the waters from Tyrande's sudden push as she lurched towards the ship's rail and hung over it. Dreadful noises were torn from her and George's splash was barely heard as the ship rattled in panic, many shouting "Man Overboard!" again and again. Fred, affecting a look of innocence turned to the remaining audience hands spread and eyes wide before making a mock horror face at the vomiting Priestess on the railing.
"What in the world is she looking for? Has she lost something do you think?"
Five minutes later, another splash could be heard on the ocean followed by the faint echoes of a red-head's scream of terror.
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It took another half a day long for the three ships to reach the end of the forestry regions of Ashenvale and pass slowly the green plains below it that slowly leads to the barrens of Kalimdor. Even from where they are, the Night Elf Priestess could see already the brown ahead of the desert that who-knows-what species called their homes.
"I was wondering when the trees will end," chuckled Harrold beside her from the railing, startling Tyrande badly.
"Don't do that!"
"Do what?" blinked the Templar Grandmaster owlishly in question.
"That!" snapped Tyrande. She merely rolled her eyes at his remaining questioning gaze before peering again forwards at the lands that she had never laid eyes on in her immortal life.
"So what's it called?"
"What?" Tyrande interrupted from her gazing looked at the red-head perpetrator who until now she can't identify if; is it Fred or George.
"What's it called Tyra?" repeated the red haired knight. Like Harrold, he and his twin didn't take long to start abandoning the use of her title once they knew her na/me unlike the other men-at-arms on their boat whom the High Priestes did not fail to see are also peering over the edge on wonder at the lands so different from the home she had left behind.
"I don't know,"
"What?!"
Tyrande only looked incredulously at the still unknown red-head, annoyed. "Don't make me keep on repeating what I said whoever you are," she added a growl for good measure. Judging from the amused look on his face though, he isn't intimidated one bit.
"But-,"
"Enough Fred!" cut off Harrold finally taking pity on her. "Get back to your post and tell everyone also. Sound the horn on the two ships. Any corsair with a ram can take down any of our ships before we can yell if we keep this up,"
"Yes Grandmaster," saluted Fred before running off. It did not take long before the shouts of: "Get back to your posts lads! Show's over! Come on move it!" It was then followed by the sound of a horn blowing above the deck that spurred the sailors of the Vigilant and the Saint Elizabeth back to their posts leaving Tyrande alone with Harrold.
For reasons unknown to her, Tyrande immediately felt awkward being left at the clutches of the esteemed and handsome Templar Grandmaster. One part of her head were echoing the words of promise that her best friend extracted from her after she exposed her secret to Tyrande on that fateful knight. However another part of her can't help but feel jealous. It would be very inconvenient for her if she exposed her best friend. With Alleia either executed or simply ripped to pieces (which is to be considered) by the majority of the mob of Kaldorei for her breaking of their laws. The position of closest Night Elf to Harrold would fall on her. She did not miss some of the looks he stole to her from time to time which always left her tingling and appreciated like the first days when Malfurion was courting her.
Indeed it would be too easy. If Alleia is killed, Harrold would obviously mourn her. The two are close, closer than even they could see if Tyrande's hunches are right. If any of them suddenly die, the other is sure to feel the pain in a vengeance. He would have no other choice but to also then comfort her since she would be the person that Alleia is closest to in terms of both family and friend. His honor would require it and what a convenience it would be then for her. She would be the shoulder that he would cry on and she would be the ear that would listen as he poured his heart out. She would be Alleia's replacement as his mate and he will belong to her with the gifts of immortality that her best friend died for. It is sure to happen if she did choose to betray Alleia and decide to take Harrold as her future mate for later.
"Tyrande! Tryande?" the voice of the Grandmaster snapped the Night Elf Priestess off of her stupor of thought as she moved her silver blue eyes to met the emerald ones of the Grandmaster who looked worriedly at her direction.
"Yes? Did you say something Harrold?" covering up her slip of thought with the regal tone that she usually used when talking.
An amused smirk only appeared at her Terran friend's face. "I'm asking if you have ever been on this place?" pointed out Harrold as the first vestiges of the barren deserts started to appear on the horizon leaving the grassy plains behind.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously,"
"No," Tyrande sighed as she leaned on the railing watching the grass turn brown. "I've never been past a mile away from south of Ashenvale actually. Seeing a land as empty as these...it felt wrong to me, to my kind. We have lived so long where we are among the trees and plants that we love and cared; sharing a part of ourselves to them. To see a place where there are none of them, it causes pain,"
"Do you want to go back? You can always go back you know. I can commision the Saint Elizabeth to return you with the rest of your Sentinels on your lands. It is not your problem that you came to solve after all. We can carry on the rest of the way on our own,""
Tyrande only stared amusedly at the Templar Grandmaster who blushed and then looked away. "You and your Elune blessed honor Harrold. If only you know the thoughts that I have about you, then you won't look at me twice," thought Tyrande to herself.
"I'm coming with you Harrold and that's final. What would the other Sentinels think of me if I came back like a coward just because I am afraid of a little sand. Think of my reputation,"
Harrold only blinked at her. "Are you serious Tyra?"
"Of course," replied the Night Elf in a pouting manner not caring how much effect she had on her Terran friend who went red at how cute she looked at the moment. "Besides, I seriously can't let you wander off in this waste with only four hundred men clad in arms to the teeth. You need lighter troops than that if you want to survive on a place like that," she then gestured to her Sentinel armor that had been washed and cleaned by the Temple's servants beforehand. She didn't miss the wandering eyes of the Templar Grandmaster to wander into her form appreciatively before noticing her stare and looking forward immediately with a blush on his ear.
As usual Tyrande, felt flattered. She knew that it is a sore subject for the Terrans, especially the Knights about the armor and clothing of the Kaldorei. Apparently from where they came from, they're not exactly open on showing their bodies off to the public like her people are wont to do. Tyrande herself don't understand why they are so conservative. Its not like they had something to hide right? If Harrold's body is anyway as good as yummy as it can be seen outside, Tyrande only shivered as she imagined him dressed in male Night Elven clothes. Thinking about him bare-chested made "In love Tyrande" part of her roar in envy at Alleia being the one to bed him. Anyway, she had more than heard one gossip during the nights where many of the Kaldorei would bath at the moonwells about the knights and the men-at-arms that her sisters loved flirting with. Them being uncomfortable made them a fun game for the male deprived species of her kind. Oh Cenarius would get his druid ass happily drunk and tease them mercillesly if he ever got wind of the things that her sisters discussed during the baths. (Which is mostly which male they would be hooking up, letting them pine after them before acting all coy and shy and disappearing to the woods). It might not be fair for the Terrans, but who says life is fair anyway?
"My lord!" the sudden interruption of one of the Templar Knights broke the awkwardness of the situation the two are currently having making Tyrande giggle at the relieved expression that left the Grandmater's face. She might never admit it, but using her poise and beauty to unsettle Harrold had been currently one of her most favorite pastimes.
"What is it John?" spoke Harrold to the Knight who saluted before looking warily at Tyrande who merely rose an eyebrow and didn't move despite the unsaid words that he doesn't want her here.
Harrold noticing the looks the two are throwing merely waved to his subordinate to speak.
"The Vigilant longboats ahead have returned my lord. They have spotted us a safe harbor two miles from where we are currently. It is wide enough to fit all three ships and have cover on all sides. Sir Fred Weadley have-," he suddenly paused as the Night Elf Priestess giggled rudely stopping him mid-word making him glare at her. Tyrande didn't bother apologizing.
"Just continue John," Harrold waved again with a sigh throwing a pointing look at her. Tyrande just poked her tongue out in retaliation.
Looking at the childish banter the two had, the knight simply continued on. "Sir Fred my lord suggests that we harbor there. It is defendable and are flat enough to establish our temporary camp. Signs of heavy boots found by the longboats on the shore may also be significance of Sir Diggory and Lady Monte Delacour's passing with their men,"
"Very well, signal the other ships John. Tell them we're taking Sir Weadley's advice. Three light signs to the other ships. Have every able bodied man ready to fight to disembark in half an hour,"
"Yes Grandmaster," the Knight saluted but not before throwing a scathing look at Tyrande who can't resist showing off her longer than average canines at him. He shivered once before leaving the deck to the two.
"Do you really have to scare him off?"
"No," shrugged Tyrande simply. "But I enjoyed making fun of him. You don't want me to be only sad and morose like you do you?" Tyrande looked up at the Grandmaster who only snorted at her words.
"And since when did I became all sad and morose as you say Tyra?"
"I don't know, maybe since the first day I met you at that forest," replied the Priestess with a mock-thoughtful expression. "You're all so uptight about your honor this and honor that. I can't do this. I can't do that. If that's not being uptight, then I don't know what that is,"
"And is that a bad thing?" blinked Harrold quite confused.
"Nope, I won't have it any other way," in love Tyrande part of her replied thoughtfully but with a great effort, the Priestess of the Moon squashed that part before it can form into coherent words and instead replied:
"Yes, maybe a little. Trust me Harrold. Looking all so grim and proper all the time would make you look like Alleia soon,"
"I would be doing it even more if I can be as beautiful as her then," chuckled the Grandmaster looking at the other ships sharing signal lights with one another as Harrold's orders are transmitted. He didn't notice the flinch of Tyrande nor the pang of hurt that shadowed her eyes for a second before she managed to school them to a smirk so that he wouldn't notice.
"I see," chuckled Tyrande, trying hard to squash the feelings of pain that echoed like a drum on her chest in envy. The urge to grab the nearest pigeon carrier that the Templars had to carry long messages to one another are growing stronger inside her and it took all her love and loyalty to Alleia not to write to the Council about her planned activities and get her out of her way to Harrold's heart.
"Tyra? Are you alright? You know, you have looked ill ever since we left this journey. Be honest with me Tyra. Are you really alright?"
"No, I'm not," her thoughts mourned wanting nothing more than to admit her feelings.
"Promise me Tyra! Promise me!" the voice of her friend that night echoed again on her long ears. A promise that she fervently wished she had not taken.
"I promise,"
"Of course Harrold!" laughed Tyrande startling the Templar Grandmaster at the slightly hysterical sound lacing it. "Now stop asking me if I'm alright and tell me what the heck are those shell things are?"
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Harrold had to admit that the scouts that the Vigilant had sent proved their worth when the three ships arrived at the edge of the aforementioned "protective harbor". It is a cove protected well by jutting outlyings of rock that could cover the ships from the random squalls that might be thrown by the sea. Of course they have to set anchors a little offshore since the lack of planks and an actual harbor would cause the ships to ran aground on the beach sands. They had to be transported by longboats which is not a problem thankfully. It might be a bit slower than they expected, but it would had to do for now until they can make a makeshift harbor where they can bring their ships closer then.
He also can't help but feel proud at the sight of a large oasis at the beachside with a little spring on it. Their temporary camp at least would be a little comfortable. He and his men had brought water in barrels that could last them three months when rationed since they don't know how long their hunt would take on finding their lost comrades. But the presence of an oasis certainly negated that downside. Harrold mentally thanked Lady Luck for such a blessing. Fighting in the desert isn't exactly a new thing for them Knights and their men-at-arms, but the majority of his forces which belonged to the Legions trained by Callahorn are not. It would do them good to have a shady spot before they get used to the desert.
"Drop Anchors!" the shout of the ship captain of Galahad and Harrold slowly made his way to the side of the deck where thirteen of his men, Templar Knights already are assembled with their packs, dressed in desert armor waiting for him. Beside them is Tyrande who gave him a nervous smile with a pouting Arko' and a red-faced Colin beside her.
"I had a feeling that you would be coming with me," Harrold smiled at Tyrande as he walked towards them.
"Of course. I can't have you running off and get yourself tripping again won't I?" chuckled Tyrande as he stepped in beside her.
"Whipped," laughed one of the Knights before the Grandmaster's gaze clamped on him making him immediately shut up as they prepared the boat that is slowly being let down on the sea waters.
Harrold however can't help but notice the two extra additions that they had.
"We only have room for fifteen men or women," Harrold added before looking at his and Tyrande's apprentices' faces who morphed with horror. "Find another boat, both of you," ordered Harrold.
"My lady," Arko'Narin looked panicked at being separated from her but Tyrande beside her also waved her off.
"He's right Arko'. We all can't fit in one boat. Take his squire with you and keep him alive alright?"
Arko' only gurgled in outrage at her teacher's words but Harrold decided to add his own coin in to his own apprentice seeing the amusement dancing on Tyrande's face.
"And you Colin," he took a serious tone staring at the nervous look of his squire. "I believe that you would take care of Lady Arko' here right? Don't shame us. You're my only squire and everything that you act reflects on me. Stick with her always or else I'm throwing you overboard next time we're at sea,"
Harrold had to cough as the young boy saluted in a mixture of pride and nervousness as he practically grabbed Arko'Narin's hand (since when did he got over his nervousness on taking a girl's hands? Or in Arko's case, exceedingly beautiful) and ran to the nearest available ship dragging an outraged and protesting Kaldorei Sentinel-in-training with him.
"Do you really have to be so mean?" asked Tyrande giggling in amusement like the other knights who had seen the interaction of the two.
"No. But you had to admit, it's fun making the two of them squirm," shrugged Harrold as he saw at least twelve longboats being at least prepared. There are more, but they are reserved for emergencies. The current twelve had to ferry the rest back and forth.
"They would make a good couple maybe one day," pointed out the Grandmaster.
"Arko's two hundred Harrold," replied Tyrande simply. "You're squire's sixteen, don't you think he's a little too young for that?"
"You never saw Neville gagging in revulsion ever since he and Jaelyn consummated their marriage despite centuries older than him did you? I swear, the morning after his wedding night, the guy perhaps had a permanent grin and smile on his face with his wife. Now that you mention it though. I'm pretty sure she is limping a lot when we invited her to breakfast at-,"
"Stop! Just stop!" Tyrande practically yelled. "I don't want to imagine what our gardener have been up to in her married life,"
Harrold only chuckled with the rest who have been listening, dropping the subject as they watched the longboat land with a splash on the waves below them. Ropes tied at its prow and front prevented it from being washed away by the current.
"So how do we get down towards there?" asked Tyrande curiously looking at the boat and checking for any signs of handholds or anything. "Do we levitate?"
"No," answered Harrold at how comfortable Tyrande's race is on using magic. "We rappel them down,"
"Rappel down?"
"Yes, look," Harrold pointed at his knights and the other people grab the middle rope that led to the center of the unwieldy longboats and slide down towards them.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Tyrande said in a hiss. "There's no way I'm doing that! That barely can be called safe!"
"It is safe," insisted Harrold. "Don't tell me you're afraid of heights?"
Tyrande only glared balefully at him. "No! I'm not. And I'm not going. I'll fell if I ever do that. Give me a cliff and a waterfall anytime, but nothing like this,"
Harrold can't help but make an irritating noise as he glanced that he is only second to the last now. Looking at the other longboats that have Night Elves assigned to them. He can't help but notice that they are also having the same problem as he is. There is even the sound of a slap as one of the Legionnaires tried to push one on the middle rope followed by a water splashing as said Legionnaire are thrown overboard by the Sentinel. Harrold wondered how his squire is fairing with Arko'Narin.
"Fine!" snapped Harrold. "Climb on my back,"
Tyrande's eyebrows literally shot to her hairline as she looked at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"
Ignoring his flaming cheeks at the implication of what she might be thinking, Harrold repeated his words to her. "Climb on my back and hold tight as I rappel down,"
Tyrande didn't move for a minute glaring at him only making Harrold squirm before nodding. Cheeks burning literally, Harrold tried to block out his thoughts as Tyrande's body clung to his like a spider; making "little Harry" incredibly happy as it reacted to the half naked oversexy and illegally beautiful priestess.
"I wonder if this is how heaven feels like," thought Harrold as he stood up grunting, his hands going on Tyrande's supple legs for support as he reached for the rope with the free hand he had left. The feeling of her pressed to him felt perfect. It didn't help that her chest which is quite regular on Kaldorei standards and not on Terrans is pressed firmly on his back. Her scent of wildflowers filled his senses and he nearly let go of the rope and settle on daydreaming while cuddling this magnificent beautiful creature trembling in fear as he grabbed the rope.
"Are you ready?" Harrold asked her as he tightened his hand on the rope.
"As I can be," she simply replied with a nervous chuckle, her breath on his ear.
Harrold only nodded and rappelled down. The campaign on Kalimdor had finally started. Again he wondered how is his squire if Night Elves is as nervous about rappelling down is as bad as Tyrande who is currently latched to him like a spider.
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A group of Legionnaires were busy removing the ropes that held the longboat from Saint Elizabeth when they were startled by a sudden drawn out cry. They looked up in time to see a red and silver clad figure sail out of the deck of Galahad, turn over once and then land with an enormous splash in the dark waters of the sea. They shrugged and simply went back to work
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Sorry I havent update regularly. I downloaded a new game SIMS MEDIEVAL II and Im quite addicted. Makes writing hard hehehe. Anyway hope ya liked it. Please fave and review.
Thank you for the ever support on this story. We've reached ten chapters now and don't worry. Ive already planned major scenes and an ending.
Suggestions for mountain names (Dwarfish) and possible name for a group of Horse Lords.
Thank you for the reviews. Trust me. It gives me insight and helps me steer my stories. Dont think Im not putting your requests into consideration.
SPOILERS:
- Grand Alliance
- Expansion of Terrans (More cities, possibly three)
- Possibly Hostile Continents
- Sunstrider King Ass
- Lordaeron King Asss
- Friendship with Arthas.
- Present Windrunner Sisters
- Marriage agreements
- Formation of the Church
- Meeting the Aspects
- Mating with Alexstrasza
- Dance of Dragons
- Reformation of Stormwind
- War against the Pirates
- Character Death
- Challenge of Deathwing
- War against the Legion (Ending)
This is all planned and the story would pass all this. I wont be changing it whatsoever other than the sideline stories that might come behind.