Chapter 11
Author's note: I couldn't remember what language the Eletians speak, so I called it Eltish. If this is incorrect, please let me know! Thanks.
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"When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do nothing but that."—Florizel, The Winter's Tale, Shakespeare
On the way back to Sacor City, Sevelon's thoughts were troubled. Spending so much time with her had awakened something inside him, the likeness of which he had not given thought since years uncounted. It wasn't sexual arousal (well there was that too, at times he felt like a hormonal young man).
In the immortal realms his sole company was other god-like beings and he had forgotten how it was to be with a normal person. So carefree and yet so intense their desire to live, mortals were intoxicating with their mere presence. Lately he was experiencing moments when his great pool of memories—which usually grounded him and kept him somber—seemed to shrink in depth and vastness as if they were less important than what was happening at the moment. A very strange experience for one as old as he, but he relished the lightness. If this is what it is to have mortality, then he was sad that he missed out.
Usually, people annoyed him. They had a tendency to become too involved with the importance of their day to day lives and to forsake the greater situation in favor of their small, personal gain. Most mortals have this flaw in greater or smaller doses and there have only been a few who Sevelon could tolerate for any length of time. Karigan was one of these few people. Not only could he tolerate her hanging around, but he felt some comfort in her presence. If he was brave enough to admit it to himself, he was beginning to think of her as a worthy lover. The idea of getting attached at once delighted and grieved him. Even if she would want him as anything more than a companion, what consequences would they suffer if they allowed such a link to form?
To become attached to any mortal was risky. Becoming attached to Karigan was much more risky than if she had just been a simple mortal. Sevelon kept reading the lines of fate and there was still a distinct possibility that HE would be the one to end her existence, for she was too closely linked to Mornhaven's fate to be unaffected by his death. All romantic feelings aside, she was a good woman and to be the cause of her death would truly grieve him. If he were to become more attached (more than he already was), then her fall would be devastating for him.
His troubled thoughts would continue along this line for days, only to be broken by the times when he and Karigan would find themselves alone and talking. These were rare moments and he cherished them.
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Even with all of Alton's people accompanying them, the group was making good time. It was only one more day of riding, and then they'd be through the castle's gates. That evening, Karigan sat at a small fire with Estral and Sevelon. They talked companionably for a while. Well really Estral and she talked, while Sevelon stayed mostly silent. He had become much more talkative with Karigan since he'd told her about his true purpose, but he was still very silent with other people. She suspected he was afraid of messing with the natural course of events.
When Estral asked about Karigan's love life, Sevelon very politely excused himself, saying he would leave them to their women's talk. As he stood and walked away, Karigan's eyes followed him.
Estral noticed this and laughed, "Well that explains things."
"What?" Karigan looked back a bit surprised.
"Isn't it obvious? You fancy him."
Karigan opened her mouth to protest, but promptly shut it again. She was silent for a moment before finally saying, "Well, he is very good looking."
Her friend laughed louder this time, "That he his."
Karigan looked at her sharply and Estral held up her hands, "Don't worry, I'm perfectly happy with Alton."
Smiling to soften her previous reaction, Karigan admitted, "I think I'll miss having him all to myself. In the castle, there is always so much to do. Plus, once we're back he'll be a fully trained green rider and I won't have any excuse to hang around him."
"I don't think you'll need an excuse. He seems to enjoy being with you more than anyone else."
Wrapping her arms around her legs, Karigan starred into the dancing orange flames and let her friend's words sink in.
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Upon arrival they were surprised to find that an unprecedented number of aristocrats had converged in Sacor City. The castle was full and the late arrivals were forced to find lodging in the city. Likewise, all the barracks were bursting, and many of the old corridors were now housing soldiers. More than ever, the Castle was now a city in its own right.
With all these nobles in residence, it was only natural for Queen Estora to throw a ball. Thinking of this, Karigan snorted. Dancing was not going to help them win any battles. Maybe the monarchs thought it would keep the nobility from thinking about the impending fight, allow them to relax and act as if their lives weren't about to change. As she looked at the crowd of finely dressed people, she thought they were well on their way to forgetting their troubles.
Karigan truly hated these occasions. She'd rather be on a message errand, or helping the quartermaster prepare the battle uniforms, or helping the kitchens serve all these new people. She'd like to be doing anything that was remotely useful. Because of her status as Knight, she was stuck at this frivolous party. At least she had been able to obtain a proper dress, unlike the borrowed costume she wore last time. That last ball had been a masquerade and it was not a pleasant experience for this particular attendant. So far, this ball had been much less eventful.
However, she still felt safer away from the nobles who had been drinking and dancing for the last hour. Some young, drunk lord had just tried to dance with her. When he nearly spilled his drink down the front of her dress, she decided to barricade herself in this corner, far from the festivities. That is where Sevelon found her. He was dressed in a plain suit, like many of the lesser noblemen. Somehow, Karigan didn't think he'd been invited, but that minor detail hadn't stopped him from showing up.
"If you try a little harder, you might fade into the wall." If anyone overheard him, they would think he was jesting.
"Sounds like a lot of effort. Will you be doing any tricks tonight?"
"Oh no, tonight I am a simple lord. Notice," he held up his sleeve for inspection, "the cloth is nice enough, but its low quality promises little wealth. No one woman will pursue me because I'm obviously not rich, and no man will talk to me because I'm not a political adversary." He nodded, so obviously proud of himself that she had to laugh.
He looked at her quizzically, and she informed him, "That is not why they avoid you."
"Oh, do I still smell like horses then?"
"No more than I." She paused to consider the true reason why people automatically avoided her companion. It was similar to how people reacted around weapons, but there was also something more. Finally she just said, "You hide it well, yet there is still an unmistakable sense that you are dangerous. You make them uncomfortable not only because you are dangerous, but also because you are unmistakably different. This is why they avoid you."
His grey eyes looked like granite as they coolly surveyed her and once again she was reminded that this was no ordinary man, but someone who had seen civilizations rise and fall. He kept his voice casual, "I am who I am. It is hard for me to care if I make these people uncomfortable. What is important to me is that our enemy does not discover my presence until the time is right. I care about little else."
He had known so many people; it was only natural for him to be unconcerned about such things as public image. He probably didn't care what any of the mortals thought. The idea made Karigan's stomach twist, because he probably held her in the same regard. After all, she was only another mortal. This idea made her feel self-conscious and she didn't know how she should respond to such a statement. For the first time ever, there was an awkward quality to the silence between them.
It took her by surprise when he spoke again, "At least I'm not the only pariah in this room."
"What do you mean?"
"They also avoid you; at least once they know who you are." She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued, "Tonight, there's not been one man to approach you and I assure you this is not because you are sore on the eyes."
Feeling slightly defensive, she recalled her earlier admirer, "There was one man..."
Sevelon cut her point short with his own argument, "Who was well into his drinks and obviously didn't know he was handling the deadliest female in the room." With this conclusion, his eyes twinkled merrily, as if the joke was on the unknowing man.
She just shook her head and stated, "He was in no danger." Of all the people to tease her about being perilous, this man had the least right. They both knew who the most lethal occupant was and it most certainly wasn't her.
"The look on your face might have," he paused halfway through his sentence. He tilted his head slightly and held his body very still for a moment, as if he heard something peculiar, before continuing distractedly, "suggested otherwise." Here he paused again, before hurriedly excusing himself. Something that only he could pick up on was happening, so she let him leave without any further explanation. If he needed her to know about it, he would have said something.
The corner seemed colder once he left and Karigan occupied herself by observing the other people. However, the nobles carried on as they had before, drinking and chattering. She quickly became bored and contemplated leaving. Surely she had stayed long enough and could retire without being rude. Yes, she had endured enough. However, when she tried to push through the crowd surrounding her corner, she realized the nobles had hushed and were pointing at the top of the ballroom stairs. There stood two figures, poised to enter the room. From the gleam of their armor, they were Eletians. One turned a head in her direction, but before she could examine the face, they were lost behind the crowd. Curious, she wondered if it was anyone she'd met. Even if she didn't know them, she would still like to talk to them. With a renewed effort, she began to squeeze through the assembled mass of nobles. No doubt they were headed towards the dais to greet their hosts, so that is where she went.
She was almost to the center of the room when she heard a rough coughing. Distracted from her goal, she turned to find an old man struggling to remain standing. He had one hand placed on a wobbling cane and the other covered his mouth as his body was wracked with each new cough. She held out a hand to steady him. When the coughing fit ceased, he turned his wrinkled face and smiled in thanks.
Assured the old man was fine, she turned, only to be shocked by the sight of a familiar figure. Ealdaen stood there, his hair and armor looking as if it had never been in the tainted, dark forest. Too surprised to think clearly, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him. There was a shocked intake of breath from the surrounding aristocracy. Despite knowing she was fuelling the court gossips, she couldn't get herself to care enough to let go.
"You're alive." She whispered, relief flooding her voice. Ever since she had woken up in that graveyard, she had wondered what had happened to her fellow travelers and if all of their deaths were now on her hands. But there was at least one more that lived. Slowly, he returned her embrace.
Ealdaen said something in Eletian. It roughly translated it to, "Young One, the sight of you gladdens my heart."
She smiled sheepishly, glad he wasn't going to reprimand her for her impulsive human behavior. Aeryc knows she had just hugged someone who had been alive longer than Sacor City itself. Even if he didn't look any older than King Zachary, she knew he had fought during the Long War.
A throat cleared. Karigan looked up to see that Sevelon had finally returned. He took in the scene of her hugging the Eletian, face indecipherable. She stepped out of Ealdaen's arms to introduce the two men. Sevelon surprised both of them by touching his hand to his forehead and giving what she knew to be a traditional Eletian greeting. At this, Ealdaen looked almost excited and began to talk in Eltish.
"It has been many centuries…" Was all Karigan could understand of Ealdaen's response. The rest of their conversation was spoken too quickly for her to follow. However, she did notice that her name was mentioned several times. Her understanding of the language was rough at best, but she still enjoyed listening to the words. They sounded like water flowing over rocks; both strange and peaceful. Eventually a young Eletian came to retrieve Ealdaen. Before he left, he promised Karigan that she would see him again soon, but did not further elaborate.
Sevelon's voice drifted into her thoughts, "There are not many who command such respect from an Eletian, and that one seems rather fond of you."
She looked at him, unsure if he was insinuating something. For the second time that night, she felt oddly defensive. "He is a good man." Person. Eletian. Her thoughts stumbled.
"Oh, he undoubtedly is." he looked down at her, "He would be lucky to have you."
So unexpected, the comment took away all of her previous fire and left Karigan silent, searching his face.
She finally asked, "Where did you learn to speak Eltish?"
He laughed at her evasion of the topic. As if the question wasn't even worth answering, he suddenly asked, "Would you like to dance?"
Hell no, but that was hardly an appropriate response with all of Sacoridia's nobility in hearing range. "I, uh…" She never knew how to respond to such situations.
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He liked to see her flustered. When she fumbled with her response, he merely held out his hand. She looked very reluctant. She reminded him of the wild mares who once roamed these lands freely in grand herds. During his mortal existence, he'd been quite good at catching them. As with them, he used that same calming tone with her now, "All is well." His voice lowered so only she could hear, "We can leave the moment you feel uncomfortable." A minute longer, and then almost as if she wasn't sure why she was allowing this, she put her hand in his.
The dance was simple and the moment he had her in his arms, they were twirling with the rest.
Sevelon thought about his dancing partner. Her footwork was fantastic; the mark of a true swordswoman. Yet, she seemed easily disoriented with someone else controlling her movements. Her mind was second-guessing her body's instincts. She would be better at following his movements if her mind was more distracted.
"Have you ever danced under the open night's sky?"
"Do you include fighting?" Because honestly, that is the most personal contact she's ever had with another human being at night, indoors or out.
Now that he had her attention, her body responded much better to his. Just to keep her mind off the dance, he asked, "Was it romantic?"
She knew true masters of the blade who moved as music in motion, but she'd never had such a graceful clash with any opponent. "How does a sword fight move from being deadly to passionate?"
It was too tempting. He hadn't used any of his true power while in this place, and this woman was all but begging him to show her something. When he next twirled her, he stopped the motion so her back was pressed to his front. He didn't release her. The other people continued to dance, he made sure no one noticed the suddenly motionless pair.
Tilting his mouth towards her ear, he began to speak. "To be leagues from any other soul…" He leached some of his power outwards. The people around them began to slow, until they almost weren't moving at all. He felt Karigan tense against his chest, she knew he was up to something, but she didn't protest, so he continued. "In peace and seclusion…" Then the ballroom began to fade away, the crowd transformed into tall grass with the walls morphing into a perimeter of giant pine trees. When the transformation to a meadow was complete and they were well and truly miles away from Sacor City, he released her. He was afraid she would feel trapped. Her shoulders were very still, the normal rise and fall that indicated breathing had ceased.
Suddenly uncertain, he stepped back and stuffed fisted hands into his pockets. He watched her motionless form, wary of what her response would be. It had been a thousand years since he had showed off to impress a lady; that was the first time and last time. It had only been a small trick, and the woman had looked at him as if he was something spawned straight from the underworld. All the trepidation of that experience came back as he cautiously watched Karigan's back.
When her shoulders loosened and began to move in a normal pattern. Only then did he allow himself to breathe again. He watched as she lifted her arms above her head and twirled, face up to the sky and spilling out laughter. Eyes bright with excitement, she went to explore her surroundings.
He followed her as she wandered towards the tree line, noticing how her right hand brushed the grass as she passed. He had never seen her so carefree. The sight warmed his chest and he would be willing to waste much more power to keep her so happy.
She stopped at the base of a tree to watch a squirrel climb across the branches above. "Is this what constellations do when they are bored?"
He kept moving forward until he was standing next to her. Head tilted up to watch the bushy red squirrel, he honestly answered, "I have not been bored since I met you." He knew she had no skill at accepting complements, so he continued, "want to sword fight?"
She had to pause, "Um…sure."
"Would you prefer a long sword or a saber?"
Her lips twitched as she fought a smile, and she stated, "Saber."
Going to a nearby tree and breaking off two appropriate branches. It was much easier to work with existing objects, rather than creating things from thin air. He walked back to her with two swords and handed the shorter one to her.
He watched Karigan examine the sharp edge and he asked, "Ready?"
Instead of answering, she leapt at him. He blocked her, unable to help from chuckling. He had watched her work with that brute of a swordmaster and it was no doubt that she didn't want to give him time to rest or gain any advantage. Her body moved as if it was built for this. He picked up the pace and waited until her muscles were warmed up, then he moved her closer to a tree and pinned her saber above her head. With his body, he pressed her into the bark and continued with their conversation from the ballroom. Challenging her, "Could it be deadly and passionate?"
He watched her face flush as she admitted, "Yes, it could."
He felt his body stirring in response to her and he had to make an effort to calm himself. In all honesty, he was ecstatic that his little demonstration had worked so well, but he knew he shouldn't continue with this. Shifting his hold on her, he gently guided both of their swords until they were hanging point down. "Come, I should return you to the castle."
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She stood there, sword hanging uselessly at her side. Watching him walk away and feeling the immediate chill and loneliness at the loss of his presence.
"Wait." Karigan called out to him. She dropped the saber near the tree and followed quickly in his wake. She caught up to him in the grass and grabbed his hand. "What if I don't want to leave?"
"Once justice has been served, my task will be done and I will have to leave this place." He had told her this before. When she continued to stand her ground, he went on, "If we stay here, we endanger your honor. If things were to escalade, your reputation would be tarnished."
She was grateful that he was such a gentleman. Still, she found his tendency to assume things about her to be very annoying. She questioned, "How do you know it hasn't been already?" For all he knew, she could have slept with any number of men before he showed up.
From his look, he clearly thought she was joking. When her face remained impassive, he turned serious.
She watched as he walked closer. Keeping his eye contact, she felt his hands rest on her hips and she allowed herself to be pushed to the ground. His sword hand remained on her hip, while the other stroked her hair. He leaned in to kiss her. His kisses started off soft and grew in intensity, until her entire body was warm and tingling. When his lips trailed down her neck, she shivered. After another kiss, his lips lingered over hers as if he was deciding something.
Suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist and rolled so she was on top of him. His eyes twinkled as he said, "If you want to stay here, fine. But I'm still not taking your maidenhood."
Resting her head on his chest, she began to question, "How…"
Before she could ask, he shushed her. "I knew the moment I met you. Power feels unique on each person due to the combination of their individual characteristics, and it was very obvious that you remained untouched. Even if I hadn't known that, you are hardly the castle harlot."