058 – Dinner Guests

Over the next two days, a bunch of little nothings happened that began to set all moods on edge. Rox was foot sore. Steven wrecked two batches of bread. Caspian’s mood went as fowl as the weather as it rained, thundered and lightninged continually. Even the mules were more ornery than normal, though they soon stopped alerting to every flash or thunder clap. The road was passable, but very muddy as they climbed and descended a mountain pass from the upper valleys toward the coastal ones.

The weather broke as they came out of the pass into well logged forest. The trees here were a checkerboard mix of very old, medium age, and saplings. They figured the easiest way to measure the age was how high the lowest branches were. The oldest, largest branches and trees showed visible fire scarring; a few areas had open avenues where a tree had been felled and taken some of its neighbor’s branches with. To Rox’s surprise, there did not appear to be any dead-falls on the ground, or evidence of trees that lay on the ground for long. From one vista, the forest looked like a patchwork as it stretched across the valley they were in, with easily demarcated patches of similar aged trees. Three patches were on fire as they looked.

That evening they made a soggy camp within a clump of bushes in some young trees. Caspian showed Rox how to blow a gust of wind through the bush to blow most of the water off it. This allowed them to spread much of their larger cloth equipment out to dry.

Everyone’s moods were still frayed, and edgy, but they began to settle, as the clear sky overhead darkened. At first with a bit of embarrassment, then that put aside, they stripped off their coats cloaks and other wet outer clothing and lay these out on drying lines or over the large bushes that surrounded the area. The mules were tethered to a large tree, with enough line to not get into trouble. Cyrril was out hunting his own dinner.

Caspian surprised Rox by taking the large bush knife from his belt and slotted it into a socket on the top of his staff, then turned the staff over and planted it blade first into the ground. Then he hung his hooded coat from it. The usual spells that Caspian cast to guard the camp area from bugs and varmints were shortly emanating from and centered on the staff. Then picking up the heat from the fire, a slow swirl of air began to move about the area, drying and warming everything.

With the warmth going the Caplan’s were both down to their comparative underwear, and Caspian was a bit away, to give them space. For himself, Caspian was also down to his breaches, both his trousers hung out to dry, with all the rest of his clothes. Then he sensed them, and got angry for not sensing them before.

The bandits had hoped for an easy nicking of some unwary travelers. Instead they got Steven, Rox, and Caspian who were on edge over enough various things to be spoiling for a fight. Dinner was done and they were about to settle in for the evenings sleep. The bandits entered the clearing as the fire had settled to coals, and Rox and Steven were in their tent getting ready for sleep.

Caspian gave a shout, and threw a pair of spells, one at the fire to stir it up, and one at a bandit. Suddenly the Caplan’s were out, responding to the robbers. Rox had her staff and was beating, banging, and bashing her way around. Steven had his sword flashing, sending other weapons flying and occasional body parts, mostly arms. They both were still averse to wantonly killing, but that was hardly a hindrance here. For his part Caspian bashed a few shins and heads with a chunk of firewood. Then he used magic to toss the brigands out of camp. And then the fight was done.

Caspian quickly surveyed the area,

Aside from the three of them and their two pack animals, there was nothing of their own out of place. Cyrril was nearby returning from his hunt. The fleeing brigands were of no further concern. However Rox and Steven had worked up a bit of energy; Caspian could tell that a discrete exit was in order. She had hopped up in just her spandex. To Caspian’s magic senses she now glowed with energy, as did her sweaty skin and hair. She exuded sensual femininity. Steven had just his shorts on, and also glowed with sweaty exertion, the image of masculinity. Fortunately neither had any wounds.

They wrapped around each other, the fight forgotten as fast as it had started. They stepped over to the tent without breaking their embrace and ducked back inside.

Caspian smiled in good humor, caught up the one dead bandit and several body parts and weapons with magic, and walked a short ways off. The energy put off by those two was still palpable, but not as distracting as their noise at close distance.

Caspian set about inspecting the equipment and dead body. Steven had run him through and probably not even noticed. Caspian found no magic on this one, so he shifted to inspection of gear and such. From the six knives off the ground and three carried by the brigand, Caspian only considered one worth keeping. The rest he left with the body. The only other thing worth keeping was the man’s cloak. Wash the blood out, and it was perfectly serviceable. For now Caspian just draped it over himself.

Caspian then opened the ground, deposited the one body, the assorted body parts, and the discarded stuff in the hole, and then released the ground to close. He sensed the energy, and found that Rox and Steven were still at it. So Caspian began a ward to channel the excess energy, and to dampen any excessive noise. The rut would be a bit early here for the wildlife, but that was better than attracting more attention. He completed his circuit and set the ward, then as Steven and Rox showed no sign of letting up, Caspian settled in to rest against a tree trunk.

As he drifted off thoughts of his own parents drifted in. Caspian’s father was a wizard, his mother a mage. She had cast a spell on him, but not with magic. When Caspian was conceived there was a strong influence of magic, just like now with Rox and Steven. As Caspian fell completely asleep, he was amused by the thought of the supreme unlikelihood of Rox and Steven having a third child.

Roxanne woke Caspian up to give him breakfast. He was about 100 yards out of camp, having left to allow privacy. He sat against a tree, a warding barrier just beyond. Cyrril was curled around Caspian’s neck. The small dragon roused first, and Caspian shortly followed. As the day wore on, the afterglow of the night’s activities around Rox and Steve greatly amused Caspian.

They followed the road to a way point where a large bend in the river had been harnessed into a public bath. The three travelers used the bath and were on their way by lunch.

Caspian and Rox walked together, as he instructed her on focusing her mind to sense and channel energy and make it do as she desired. Essentially using magic without any tools. Caspian figured this was the best way, partially as he figured that Rox did not have the time to learn what all the alchemy of reagents was for and about, and because to the best of his knowledge, elves rarely used them anyway.

The pace the three set and kept was faster than the average wagon train, so they passed four or five way points or local hub-villages and many ripening farms every three days. These were theoretically placed for a train to go from one to the next between meal times. Most of the time the three simply kept moving until dusk than stopped. If there was a convenient shelter, they would use it, but their usual pace left them in the comparative wilds. They also passed plenty of locals, but no trains. Caspian figured it was simply people saving up to be ready for the fall fares, the Caplan’s simply did not give it any thought.

That evening as they again sat around with dinner cooking, the number around the fire doubled. However, unlike the party of brigands, this party was not hostile, overtly.

Cyrril sensed them first. Rox and Caspian both sensed the magic flux and turned to look across the forest to where three tall slim figures were walking toward them. Their hair stood in a tall white blaze of a mohawk, their trousers and shirts were of a silk or similar cloth, with boots suited to a city. The one on the left wore an ‘s’-curved two-hand sword at its waist. They approached to the edge of Caspian’s camp spells and stopped.

”To the Mage, the Lost Daughter of our Clan, and to her Paramour, we bring greetings.”

Rox sized them up as the three of them stood to face the three newcomers. These were unlike every one of the locals that had been encountered up to this point. Each as broad as Steven was, Rox figured the shortest of the three was a good foot and a half taller than her husband. The flanking two looked around, taking everything in. They had a poise that broadcast that they were at ease, at home, and in charge wherever they were.

“Mage, may we breach your boundary, in order to present our message?” The center one was the spokesman.

It took Caspian a moment to realize, but this was the same elf that had come to his farm near half a year ago to summon him to do the bidding of the Nidear clan. He answered the elf.

“You may cross, Elves of Shalaia.”

The elves stepped closer into the clearing and stopped facing the Caplan’s and Caspian across the fire.

The central elf looked at Roxanne. She wore her tunic, trousers, girdle and boots. Her mohawk stood little more than a hand span from her scalp with three braids down either side, this in comparison to their clean shaven sides. She held his gaze, not flinching. After a moment, he looked briefly over Steven, and then turned his attention to Caspian.

“Mage. We are tasked with bringing you summons to Shalaia, and bid you to bring our Lost Daughter as swiftly as possible to her clan leaders.”

Rox noticed as she looked, that Steven had a look of puzzlement, but Caspian spoke before she could address her husband.

“Very well. Is there a time limit, this time?”

“No.”

Caspian nodded. “And retrieving their children?”

“That will be addressed upon your counseling with the Clan Leaders.” The elf spoke with a fluidity and tone that Rox had heard the few times she had been in the throne room with the Sorceress. It said to Rox, without saying anything, ‘I may or may not know more, but this is all I will tell you.’ Roxanne also realized that the elf and Caspian were not speaking the local language, so Steven probably could not understand what was being said. She wondered briefly how she did.

Caspian nodded. “By evening three days hence we will reach the next city. There we will make arrangements to come in your direction. Unless you want to take us now, or carry with you something I can use as a target.”

The elf nodded. “We are messengers. We will inform our Clan Leader of your general schedule.”

The elves turned without acknowledging Caspian’s last statement, intent on departing. Roxanne spoke, getting their attention.

“Elf. Who told you where to find us?” She said this in the local language.

The elf paused, considering. He appeared briefly amused by Roxanne. Then he spoke in his own language without turning to her. “We were advised by The Councilor to the King of this land. She sent a missive telling us of your progress, and intended course. Last light you generated such unguarded energy with your paramour that it simply became a matter of getting close enough when you would be willing to receive us.”

The three elves turned and strode back the way they had come and disappeared into the night. Once they crossed the edge of Caspian’s spells, Caspian relaxed and sat back down. Rox and Steven followed suit.

Rox started, sensing that Steven needed to be filled in. “Where is Shalaia that we are supposed to change course to get to it? Why is it more important than continuing after out children? And what clan is this that presumes they can order us around? And why not be any more help, such as taking us with, or as you asked, taking a target?”

Caspian looked at Roxanne, some worry crossing his face. “You understood them?”

Rox’s tone cooled. “I comprehended the language. You tell me the meaning.”

Steven interrupted, sensing that if he didn’t he might have to break up a fight. “I didn’t understand a thing they said. Or what you said back to them, Caspian. Who were they and what do they want?”

Rox waited a beat for Caspian to start answering, and then started in as Caspian still waited on her. “I understood their language. Caspian addressed them as Elves from Shalaia. From context they are sent by some clan that is interested in me. Presumably the elves that sent Caspian to begin with. They brought a summons to us to go to Shalaia, and present me to the clan leaders, as soon as possible. Retrieving our children will then be addressed. Caspian said it would be done, and that we would get to the next city in about three days, and there change where we are going to head to this Shalaia.”

Steven turned to Caspian. “Meaning what?”

Caspian tried to withstand the gaze of both of them. “Roxanne is right. That language was the language of the elves that the Nidear clan is part of. The Nidear are the clan Roxanne is descended from. They did send me after you. They appear to have little concern for the when of retrieving you children. Shalaia is their city off to the south east of our current location by some weeks of travel. I have mentioned it previously. If we do not go in their direction, they may bother us or eventually force us to comply with their desires. They are not inclined to actually help without a good reason of their own. I figure on a cursory idea that we may be able to get horses in the next city, and ride these to Shalaia.”

Steven was not satisfied. “And our children?”

Caspian had to flinch at this. “I do not believe they are in any harm. What I comprehend of the motivations of Krogg, they want your children alive. That means we can retrieve them any time. But like you, I would rather it be sooner than later. On the other hand, these elves can be pushy. And when they are, they are not very helpful about it.”