“You bloody fool. What next?” mumbled the healer prince.
It was a rhetorical question, and while Fel’annár coughed again and the king stared in disbelief, Tensári took a tentative step forwards. She felt Idernon’s hand on her shoulder, Ramien’s on the other. She turned, to The Company, to the commander.
“Aria bless you, Ber’ator,” said Gor’sadén.
A smile so fleeting pulled at her lips. She stood there, clothes sopping wet, Ari twists plastered down the side of her face and neck. King Thargodén looked up at her from where he still knelt upon the ground. He had heard what Gor’sadén had said, but couldn’t seem to find words to formulate a question, couldn’t even stand on his own two legs. Still, he bowed to her from where he sat, knowing that she wouldn’t see it.
He turned back, watched Gor’sadén kneel before Fel’annár and place both hands on his still heaving shoulders. He shook him gently. Curious eyes watched as his son’s hands rose, covered those of the commander. Gor’sadén stood, helped Fel’annár up, and with only a brief hesitation, he pulled him into a hug.
Strange emotions assailed Thargodén. Gor’sadén’s simple gesture - the way Fel’annár returned it - it brought with it a yearning, a need to feel that same regard as Green Sun had shown the commander. Gods, but he was proud of his brave warrior child. And perhaps he could tell him, one day. If he would listen.
Sontúr touched the commander’s arm. “We need to get above ground. Set up camp and get him warm.”
Gor’sadén nodded. “Up. Stay alert. We found no one coming in, but that does not mean they are not there. Sontúr, Tensári, with Fel’annár. Galadan, Galdith, to the king.”
Retracing their path, they were soon climbing the stairs, upwards through the deserted passageways of Analei, Fel’annár half-walking, half-carried.
Galdith turned to Idernon. “Will the water continue to rise?”
“No. The lake below is tidal. With high tide, the chambers below are flooded as water fills the basin. A cyclic phenomenon.”
Galdith nodded, though he hadn’t understood half of it.
They shielded their eyes as they emerged from the house, and Thargodén turned to Fel’annár, held up by Idernon and Ramien. Sopping hair and beaten face but still, there was fire in those eyes, even more here, near the trees. It was hard to look away.
They sat Fel’annár down against a tree and Thargodén watched as a sluggish hand reached out to the grass below him. He started when Fel’annár took a blade of grass between his fingers and rubbed. The flicker of a smile ghosted over his lips, at the habit they unwittingly shared, that inborn impulse to touch nature, draw strength from it.
While Galadan and Ramien left to retrieve their horses, the others sat, watching as Sontúr made a fire, big enough to boil water. Rummaging inside his pack, he retrieved a small paper wrapping. Opening it carefully, he poked about with his index finger and then emptied the entire contents into the now boiling water. The smell of mint and eucalyptus infused the air, and Carodel leant forward, breathed it in with relish. “What is that?”
“Something I picked up at Bredja’s halls. I knew of the cleansing properties of mint and euca, but the Pelagians add lobelia and osha to treat water inhalation. After Prince Handir’s experiences on the river, I thought I should carry some. I didn’t think I would need it again on this journey. I was wrong.”
“Insightful as always, Prince,” said Gor’sadén.
Sontúr stared back at him. “And you are full of surprises, Commander. That was quite the trick you performed back there. Would you care to share your methods?”
“I wouldn’t know how.” He turned away, to Thargodén who sat silently beside him. “I am glad to see you once more, Thargodén, although not in these circumstances.”
Thargodén smiled sparingly, but his eyes were on Fel’annár as he drank Sontúr’s brew. The stilted tension was back, the same discomfort between them that had lifted only in those final moments when death had been a certainty.
“Will you tell me what happened?” asked Gor’sadén.
“I was lured into a trap by Bendir and brought here. Band’orán has … lost his mind, Gor’sadén. Fel’annár has told me of the journal, told me that my father did not betray me, although I still have questions. And then they brought Fel’annár in.” He smiled, watched his son and his friends around him. “He gave them a good fight.”
Gor’sadén nodded. “I expected no less. What then?”
“He slammed us in that well, chained us to the ground. I do not know how he did it but he freed me. There was no time to work on his own chain before the water …”
Gor’sadén closed his eyes, the image all too vivid in his mind. He could only guess at the anguish they had suffered. “He is alive, Thargodén. You both survived.”
Thargodén nodded. “I can see you are close to him. I am glad that he has you, at least.”
Gor’sadén smiled. “He will always have me.”
Thargodén’s eyes were back on Fel’annár. He seemed to have recovered a little. He would give him a few more minutes. But Band’orán had a head start. He needed to get back, stop Band’orán if he could.
“Perhaps you could introduce me to these brave warriors, Commander.” Thargodén’s voice was stronger now and Gor’sadén gladly obliged.
If the king was surprised that an Ari’ator and a prince of Tar’eastór were part of this Company that followed Fel’annár, he did not show it. And then Gor’sadén had called the Ari’atór Ber’ator and he wondered, who did she guard?
It was one of many questions, not least of which was what Sontúr had referred to by ‘Handir’s experiences on the river.’ Still, there was no time for questions now, and Thargodén looked over his shoulder, to Analei, perhaps for the last time. “When all this is over, I will tear that place down. There are too many memories here. Too many crimes haunt those walls. Barathon will fight me on that, but my mind is set. I wonder if he knows what his father is, the extent of his treachery.”
With a nod from Sontúr, Gor’sadén held out a hand and waited for Thargodén to take it. He pulled the bedraggled king up and led him to a horse which Idernon held steady for him. Galadan stepped forward and reached to his belt. Unbuckling it, he freed the king’s crown and held it out reverently. Thargodén stepped forward, nodded his thanks at the Alpine lieutenant. He hesitated, wondering if he deserved to place it back on his head. But there was nowhere else to put it and so he sat it carefully over his wet hair. Mounting his horse, he waited until Fel’annár sat in the saddle behind the Ari’atór. They were ready to return and Gor’sadén spoke to them all.
“With the king and the Warlord back, Band’orán is lost, whether Handir proves his guilt or not,” said Gor’sadén. “Pan’assár knows that the captains may turn to Band’orán, betray their king and the troops may or may not follow. We must assume the worst: that the army will be against us. Our only hope is backup from the Outer City Barracks. Still, there will not be many, and there are only nine of us.”