THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! ^_^
Here's the almost last chapter of The Shadows of the South. Only one more to go, along with an Epilogue. I haven't decided on a sequel, but there's still a war on it's way to Araluen, so it is a possibility!
"Here you are," Glade said, tossing a pack and a pair of boots onto his mentor's bed. She murmured her thanks and began riffling through the bag, she found extra arm guards, a clean cloak and fresh clothes, along with an extra knife or two. She didn't take the time to count. Strider hadn't asked Glade to bring her this gear, and she stared at him dumbfounded.
"What's this for?" She asked. Glade smiled.
"The patrol your taking me on."
Strider smirked at him, and he went to wait outside while she changed. It felt good to be a Shadow again, and she tugged on her spare boots with a hint of pride. Strider always kept spare clothes and gear packed away in her saddle bags in her tent, what puzzled her was just how Glade found out about her spare gear. She knew it was hers by the comfy fit of the boots, the faded leather of the arm guards and the slightly under oiled edge of her dagger that fit snugly into her boot.
Strider had coaxed Fell into taking his cloak back, and she pulled her own on with a breath of relief. It was amazing what a few days of rest could do for a persons enthusiasm. Strider left the Healer's House grinning from ear to ear, she met Gilan on the way out. He was making his way towards the Inn. It was a little before noon, and thick damp air hugged anyone out doors with a dozen humid hands.
"This is great." Strider said stretching as the three of them walked towards the Inn.
Gilan nodded, "It's definitely better than being cooped up inside all day." The young Ranger's side still ached, but the pain had dulled enough for him to be released from the smothering care of the maids and the Healer, and he was grateful. Glade and Strider followed the Ranger into the Inn. Halt and the Baron were sitting at a small table, speaking to one another when they entered, Halt looked up as he heard the soft footsteps of Gilan as he approached.
"Glad to see you on your feet." He commented, and Gilan nodded.
"It's great to be back on my feet." Gilan replied cheerily. Strider's gaze was quickly searching the Inn. The Baron noticed the action, "Looking for Fell?"
"Yes, actually, have you seen him?"
"He left awhile ago, he said he'd be back sooner or later."
Strider looked content, and the Baron silently recalled the battle several days earlier. The talk of an alliance with the Shadows was daunting. He wasn't sure it was worth it, but he'd seen Strider fight, he'd seen all the Shadows fight. They all seemed dead set on their cause, and relentlessly determined.
"Care to stay for a drink?" The Baron offered the Shadows. Strider shook her head apologetically.
"I've got to go," Strider said, nudging Glade, "He's taking me out on a patrol."
Glade shrugged, "Well somebody's got to keep you in shape."
Gilan grinned. "I'm sorry, who's the mentor here?" His inquiry caused Strider to roll her eyes before she followed Glade out of the Inn, and into the forest.
They moved swiftly through the forest, moving stealthily as they whisked through the trees at an even pace. Their gazes skimmed the forest trees, they listened intently to every murmur of sound. They loped through the forest side by side in companionable silence.
"Oh no, the thief is back," Marek slumped in his chair at the table in the Commandment cabin of the Shadows. Strider rolled her eyes at him, murmured greetings to Kerjack and Marek, and settled at the table with her apprentice. They shared a few words, a short laugh, and then Marek and Kerjack herded Glade out the door for a training session.
Strider sighed deeply, still recovering from her injuries, she couldn't join them as much as she would have liked to. She felt a dull ache of loneliness, and stifled another sigh.
"You don't look very happy." Strider turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Fell was standing in the door way, leaning on the door frame of his room and smirking deviously. His cloak was laying on the small ledge adjacent to the fire place, along with his
"You don't look very commanding," Strider shot back at him, he shrugged, an awkward contortion in his slouched position.
"In this case, I'm not supposed to be. Right now I'm not Fell your leader, I'm Fell your trusty, charming, and jaw droopingly handsome friend. Now tell me what's bothering you."
Strider frowned, "Nothing is bothering me Fell. I'm fine."
Fell rolled his eyes, "For the love of thieves," he moved to an empty chair and sat across from his Deputy. "You can't lie to me any better than you can sprout wings and fly." Strider hated the matter of fact tone Fell had adopted, but she didn't voice her annoyance bluntly. "Now you can choose to tell me what's wrong, or I could have Kerjack tell me."
Strider frowned, "How are you sure Kerjack knows what's bugging me?"
Fell smiled, "So there is something bothering you."
"No," Strider snapped, "I never said that."
"You implied it, now are you going to tell me or not?" Fell's green eyes glittered warmly, his was beaming and Strider couldn't stand it.
"Right now, your bothering me Fell."
Fell didn't look phased, "And…" His voice was inviting, and Strider looked away, as if to look off into her thoughts before she turned back to him and muttered an answer.
"My brother."
Fell bit his lip, a sign that he was thinking, then he raised his chin inquiringly. "What's he done, or doing, to bother you?"
Strider lifted her shoulders, and then dropped then lazily in a half shrug, "Knowing he's still alive, and that he's not yet finished with Araluen is enough to drive me crazy."
Fell sighed, his lanky arms found their way across the table, his arm guards brushing against the wood of the table, his hands wrapped around Strider's, and he waited for her to go on.
"I feel like I should've been able to do something, I should be able to stop him, right? He's my brother after all."
Fell was shaking his head, and his voice was quiet and soft, a tone he used on rare occasions. "That's not your fault. No one is expecting you to do anything drastic about your brother."
Fell's warm hands gently stroked Strider's up turned palms with a tickling touch. "That doesn't mean I shouldn't do something. No one expected for me to go after the previous leader of the Cult, and I did. Why can't I do it again?"
Fell smiled, it was a sad consoling gesture, and it made Strider feel better, "You can't do it again because I won't let you. I wouldn't like you to go after any leaders of the Cult without my consent. This sounds like a recurring conflict, your not going dramatic on me now, are you?"
Strider shook her head, feeling slightly better about the matters at hand. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Fell's eyes softened, his smile transformed to warm and friendly, "Good, now won't you cook me lunch?"
The Shadow's Deputy rolled her eyes, then stood to obey, Fell following her to the kitchen to help.
The crowd of Knights and men at arms alike stood waiting, Shadows mingling among them, murmuring farewells and wishing one another good luck in future battles. An agreement treaty had been signed between the Baron of Redmont and Fell, allowing the Shadows to stay rooted in the forest for the time being. Thought they offered to leave, Arald insisted they stay a while longer, under strict circumstances of course. Stealing and thieving was done away with, and the Shadows would help protect the Faladore woods in return for supplies from the village. Most of the villagers and townspeople had been afraid at first, but in time they began to slowly trust the Shadows.
Fell shook hands with the Baron, smiling widely, showing off a set of gleaming white teeth as they traded friendly words. Marek clasped Gilan in a hug, lifting the Ranger off his feet and holding him in a bear hug for several moments.
"I'm gonna miss you Gillie!" He said, grinning as he set Gilan back on his feet. The young Ranger and Marek had become friends through the early events of the battle, and Gilan had to admit he would miss the burly Shadow.
Strider was more kind about her own good byes, she hugged Gilan tenderly, being careful not to jostle his sprained ribs.
"If I fall in another river you'll be the first to know," She told him, and turned to see Marek attempting to hug Halt. The grizzled Ranger's eyes were filled with a dangerous hostility for a moment, and Marek only grinned wider. He stood almost a full foot taller than Halt, but the look was enough to slow his assault, Marek instead clapped a hand on Halt's shoulder.
"I like my arm in it's socket, so I'll hold back on the hug."
Halt attempted what passed for a smile from the Ranger, "Smart man," then, softer he added, "take care Marek."
Strider didn't hold back, and Halt was startled as she embraced him, "Thanks Halt." Halt returned the brief hug timidly.
"I suppose this means your no longer a thief?" Cedric asked, and Strider smiled wickedly, a devious glint in her tawny colored eyes.
"It just means I'm no longer a careless thief." She informed him, gripping him in a hug. He smiled, Cedric and Strider had gotten along better after the battle, and they spent a good amount of time socializing, their apprentices had even become close friends.
Halt had been keeping a close eye on Rowan, he'd seen the boy fight in the battle with the Cult fiercely, and he could see a bravery growing in him that was hard to come by. With a long discussion between Cedric and Arald, they came to a decision, and offered Rowan a place as Halt's apprentice.
"Me? A Ranger?" Rowan had been mystified, in the short time spent in Faladore he'd learned he could make a sword seem just as useless as a plank of wood. He'd also come to find that the Ranger's thought to be dark magicians and sorcerers were simply human, and he'd begun to admire them secretly. After an equally long talk with his brother Cedric, he agreed, still feeling somewhat unsure about the decision. The Baron and Cedric had both agreed that he'd proved his worth and loyalty to Araluen. Halt had mentioned vaguely to Cedric that Rowan's former skills as a thief may come in handy if he trained to become a Ranger.
In the end, Rowan felt as though he'd been tricked into it. Gilan talked about being a Ranger with him for awhile like it was a glorious and invigorating path to walk. How could Rowan refuse this? He'd redeemed himself valiantly in the short time spent in the village, and now an opportunity arose. From what he understood, being a Ranger was a simple task, you wore a cloak used a bow, and assumed the position of the coyest, most grim person in Araluen. It seemed like a walk in the park compared to the tough life of a knight.
If only he knew how wrong he was.
The journey back to Redmont was easy going, and the weather was cooperative as clouds passed overhead. The small group of warriors was tucked away into the warmth of the castle snugly when the first rains of the day fell. Gilan and the knights of Meric planned to set out for home the following day, and Gilan stayed with Halt and Rowan, enjoying the company of his comrades.
The scent of coffee wafted from the small cabin's combined kitchen area caused Gilan to gravitate indoors, he'd just finished grooming Blaze, and Rowan was pulling on a clean tunic as he made his way back from the river. His hair was still damp with water, tousled and shaggy looking from his quick bath.
"There's nothing like the feel of a clean shirt against clean skin," the newly named apprentice told Gilan as he stepped onto the verandah. Gilan smiled, he knew the feeling.
"It's almost as good as a fresh cup of Halt's richest coffee," Gilan commented.
Rowan frowned, "Coffee? What's that like?"
Gilan raised his eyebrows in shock, "You've never had coffee?"
Rowan shook his head, "No."
Gilan was shaking his head in disbelief, "It's a good thing your Halt's apprentice then, I'm fairly certain he can fix you soon enough." Gilan led the way into the cabin, "Never had coffee, that's a crime for certain!"
Gilan and Rowan quickly became good friends, and Halt kept his new apprentice hard at work with a plethora of chores. Soon after Gilan left Rowan began to learn how to use a recurve bow, finding he was a poor shot to begin with. Halt informed him about the importance of practice, Rowan was rewarded with aching arm and back muscles. He fell easily into the routine of housework and long hours of practice. The mapping lessons were easier, he had a hand for drawing and he managed with less difficulty.
Through his learning of what role Ranger's really play in the Kingdom of Araluen he found that he was truly fascinated by their duties, and he began to feel like he truly could do some good. Gilan was right about the coffee, and Rowan quickly found the aromatic scent and delicious taste to be quite addictive.
Halt's favorite taunt at Rowan was the apprentice's sleeping habits. "If you practiced as much as you slept you'd be hitting your marks blindfolded." Rowan couldn't object to this, he did favor sleeping in too much.
With Halt to guide him along, his training began to progress at a slow and steady rate. Halt planned to make a Ranger out of Rowan, and he kept to it.
Fell signed a temporary alliance with the Baron of Redmont, and after several meetings with Arald the Shadows' leader was convinced into signing an official alliance with the King. The forces of the Cult of Day in Gallica were muddling together, the army would march to meet Araluen head on in only a few months time. The Shadows planned to take part in the battle against their mortal enemies, whether Araluen and the Shadows were allied or not was a moot point.
In order for the King's treaty to be official, Fell would have to travel to Castle Araluen to sign it himself, something he'd been loathing since he'd been informed of the treaty. The treaty stated that the Shadows, if any single member stepped out of line, would be punished by the law of the Kingdom. Fell thought that was fair enough, as long as his men could behave.
"The Shadows will be fine Fell." Strider told him one night as they lay under the stairs, stretched out side by side on a slate grey slab or rock adjacent to the river. The moon shined down on them, star gazing had been something they'd done often together. Even rogues enjoyed the beauty of the night, and the star streaked sky was a sight to be hold. The air was light and cool, and both Shadows' had their hands laced together behind their heads and booted feet crossed at the ankle.
"How can you be so sure, we're rogues Strider. Following rules, obeying the laws, I see only one end to this, chaos."
Strider sighed, "Your such a pessimist sometimes, Fell. The Shadows might be a bunch of low lives, murderers, thieves, pick pockets, but most of us have some decency. We have you to lead us after all."
Fell turned to steel a look at his Deputy, she looked even paler in the moonlight, a light scar on her right temple shone out faintly against her skin. Her dark hair had fallen into a randomly streaked pile of straight locks. Strider's fiery gaze of tawny colored eyes was riveted on the sky above them.
"And I have you to help me."
Strider turned to look at him, she smirked, a wicked glint entered her eyes. "Unfortunately, yes."
Fell smiled, his face lighting up, "Then you'll go with me to see the King?"
"I'll hold your hand while you sign the treaty if it helps." Strider turned her gaze back to the sky, and Fell did the same with one last glance at Strider. "You could always hold my hand now…" He'd adopted an alluring tone, and his green eyes were alight with laughter.
Strider rolled her eyes, "You're a piece of work Fell."
Fell's heart soared, the devious tone of voice from Strider was one he knew all too well. Strider was thankful for the dull shadows of the night that kept her blush from Fell's sight. He was charming, in an irritating kind of way, but none the less charming.
Please read and review! I'm still working on an Epilogue, but a sequel is undecided.
I know I never really spent a lot of time writing from Rowan's POV, but if this continues, we'll get to see more of this former thief and exactly what Halt is expecting of him.
Please read and review!