“Ready?”
“Y—agh! Bugger!” hissed Idernon, scrunching his eyes shut and releasing a long groan.
“Nicely done,” drawled Sontúr as he staunched the flow of blood, cleaned the wound and bandaged it.
Llyniel leaned in close. “Thank you, Wise One.”
Idernon slowly opened his eyes, saw hers so close, saw the flecks of gold in them. He had once disliked her but had come to respect her. Now she was a friend, no longer a threat to The Company. Gods, but he had almost killed her soulmate, his closest friend, when he had tipped the boat. Now he had saved him from sure death, and the guilt had gone at last. He smiled at her, then turned to Pan’assár’s outstretched hand. He took it with his good hand and pulled himself up.
“With Aria as my witness, I have only ever seen that done twice. You have passed the test for Bow Master. I will register your feat at the Inner Circle upon our return. You have gained your first armband, Warrior.”
Idernon smiled, turned to Fel’annár who was grinning back at him. Ramien slapped him on the shoulder, wrenching a low moan from Idernon. Mortified, Ramien patted him lightly and turned away, taking up the chest once more together with Galdith.
Fel’annár caught Llyniel’s eyes, blew his cheeks out and then lent her a lop-sided smile at the frown she wore. She was not happy with him, and who could blame her? She was meticulous with her healing and her bandages. He had likely ruined her work and would surely pay the consequences later, willingly. Still, he had heard her cries, knew he had frightened her again.
He turned to Tensári, nodding slowly in thanks. Her face was utterly straight, as it almost always was, but the gleam in her eye brought a smile to Fel’annár’s lips.
An hour later, they finally set foot upon the pebbled shore at the base of the Glistening Falls. Llyniel stretched her back painfully, eyes on Fel’annár as he winced and sat gingerly upon a large rock. Her eyes turned to Handir, watching as he coughed, and for a moment, could not stop. Neither were well enough to continue their journey, but there really was no choice. Idernon cradled his arm while Ramien’s face was turned to the sea and the sprawling shoreline that led to the still distant town of Bulls Bay.
Pan’assár gave them a few moments, watched as they each sank to the ground with a chorus of groans and grunts—but they could ill afford anything more. It would not do to be trapped upon the shore at nightfall without a suitably guarded camp. He gestured to Galadan, and together they scouted the area in search of a safe place to stay for the night, if there was such a place.
Fel’annár watched them leave, and soon after, Gor’sadén appeared from behind the rocks. The pain must have been intolerable, he mused, but he knew better than to enquire about it. He did catch his gaze, though, the stubborn glint unmistakable. Like father like son. Fel’annár smiled to himself.
The shrill squawk of a gull echoed strangely off the cliff face, the unlikely trill of a thrush following. Galadan was Alpine but had mastered Silvan birdcall well. Sontúr pulled Handir up while Fel’annár stood carefully, holding his hand out to Llyniel. He scowled when she grinned at him, gave him one of her looks. She took the offered hand, but she bore her own weight, her grin now a fond smile. As if he would be able to pull her up! They followed after the commanders, keeping close to the cliff face lest someone once again spot them from above.
Galadan had found a cave and deployed Galdith and Carodel to guard them.
Inside was weathered stone, but there were no passageways leading further inside the rock. This was a natural cave, too shallow for hiding a pirate’s stash. Pan’assár nodded at Galadan and Ramien, who set to lighting a fire at the very back.
With Sontúr in charge of it, he left to scavenge for dry wood. He found plenty of it, wondering if it had come from ships wrecked upon the jagged shore. He waved at Galdith who had climbed a way up the boulders, and then at Carodel who sat upon the shore, out of sight from the cliff tops.
Soon, water boiled over the fire and Sontúr sat talking quietly with Handir as he searched for his sachet of dried eucalyptus. The commanders sat on the other side of the fire, and Gor’sadén watched as his friend took a hand to the centre of his cuirass … again. He frowned.
Ramien sorted through their now scant supply of food, rationing it out as each elf held out their hands. Dried meat and nuts were the only things that accompanied their dwindling supply of fresh water. Still, the promise of fish or even meat stood just half a day’s trek away in Bulls Bay.
After they had eaten, the three original members of The Company and Llyniel left the cave to watch the sunset that Ramien so wanted to see. They passed Tensári on their way out, sitting upon a high boulder, legs crossed, long sword in her lap. She nodded.
“In all my years, scant though they may be, I have never seen such a spectacle,” murmured Idernon as he watched the overly large sun sail towards the horizon.
“I wonder what’s inside. Fish, yes, but what else? What are the colours of that world? What other beasts swim in its depths?” asked Fel’annár. “Are they gentle, or are they predators?”
“Both, I suppose. I wonder if we’ll see a Rainbow Giant.”
Fel’annár ripped his eyes from Idernon and then back to the sea. It wasn’t Idernon who answered.
“We will. And when you have seen one, your life will change. There are other creatures, too. Smaller and yet still the size of any elf, even of Ramien here.” Llyniel smiled. “This is a place of wonder. The sea that can calm and yet exhilarate, can ease your pains and stir in you the deepest of emotions. In this water live beasts of colour and of the strangest shapes and appearances you can imagine. Most of them are friend, but some are foe, and will break upon the ships and smash them for the sport of it.”
“I like it already.” Fel’annár smiled, but of the four, Ramien had yet to speak. He couldn’t, for the sea had woven a spell on him. He was not excited, expectant or even curious. He was enraptured.
“Come, Fel’annár, Idernon. To the healers now.”
Idernon frowned, and Fel’annár pursed his lips and nodded. He felt her hand in his, grasped it tight, pulled her close and the three left Ramien alone, to contemplate the ocean in silence.
Lights shone in the watery distance, and Llyniel smiled at the many memories of navigating around the Pelagian Gulf. Princess Maeneth loved sailing, and Llyniel had often accompanied her.
She wondered, then, how Fel’annár would take to the sea, with no trees to communicate with. She watched him now as he stretched his legs out before him, bare and bruised feet to the fire. They were blue, and she knew it must have been agony to keep the pace, to descend the stairs and then school his face as if it had been nothing at all. He thought he hid it well, and he did, but not from her. She wished with all her aching heart for a moment alone with him, so that he could stop pretending, so that he could relax, and she could soothe those bruises and over-taxed muscle. But that seemed unlikely now.
Pan’assár leaned forward, his uncharacteristically soft voice pulling her back to the present.
“The watch is quiet. Whatever danger found us on the river and pursued us down the cliffs seems to have gone, thanks to the flood and Idernon’s aim. For now, it seems our backs may be safe, but not so the road ahead. It is a matter of time before others pick up our trail. I want you all to understand that the danger has not passed. There will be distractions ahead, but you must all stay focussed, keep your identities hidden.”