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.”

059 – Changing Course, Taking The Left Hand Turn Off

The next day the city appeared on the western horizon as they crossed the tallest hill, at the south end of a coastal mountain range. The road they traveled went down the hills, and along the south edge of these mountains toward the city, the river was further off to their south as they went.

“Take a good look. Judging by the terrain, this is the last chance to see the whole city.” Caspian gestured to the blur across part of the horizon to their left. In the farthest distance, the curve of the planet dropped away.

Rox gestured, as Steven got his binoculars out and looked around.

“What is out beyond it? The sea,” Rox asked.

“Yes. I do not remember specifically if this is a port, or just in land from one, but, that does not matter now.” Caspian was already starting down the hill.

Steven handed Rox his binoculars as he got his SLR camera out, mounted his wide-angle lens, knelt down to remove all wobble, and snapped a picture.

As soon as the Caplan’s caught up to him, Caspian had a question for them.

“Steven, Roxanne; can either of you ride horses?”

They looked at each other. Then Steven answered. “I have ridden some. Roxanne’s grandmother has a friend who has some and when we take the kids there for summer vacation, we all ride. So we do know how to stay in a saddle.”

Caspian was ambivalently pleased at this. “Good, then we will get some horses; hopefully that fit you. We can go faster that way than on foot. It will be about three weeks ride to get to where these elves are; about twice that by foot. But it will cost more than walking. I think that through them we will find a way to get to where your children are, more quickly.”

Steven had been bothered by this line of thought. “And why are we bothering with this, instead of just taking ship and heading after our kids?”

Caspian responded more forcefully than Steven expected. “Because those damn elves will just pluck us off the ship and to where they want us to be. They will continue to harass and direct and exercise such power and authority over you as they can, until such time as you acquiesce. Or they will simply go after your kids, raise them themselves, and not let you have any access to them. In short: they are as tyrannical in their own way as those who have already kidnapped your kids.”

Rox jumped to the point faster than Steven. “In other words, they get their way whether we help or not. If we do not work with them, then they will go around us and cut us out. The easiest way to deal with them is to roll with them, and do what can be done to keep them at arms length, or further.”

“I can begin to see why your great grand left, it they were that way then.” Steven muttered.

“It is entirely possible, given the life spans of these elves that the same elf is still in charge, even with how long ago she left. Not that I really know your families history, but from those I have met, and what I have pieced together of the story, it is likely that the leadership has not changed significantly.” Cyrril had stood up and was fanning from Caspian’s shoulder as Caspian spoke.

Seeing Cyrril, and listening to Caspian, Steven realized that Caspian was no more willing to abide these elves any farther than Steven expressed. But that it was easier to go along and get along at this time, than to fight them overtly.

For her part, Rox stepped back in her mind to all the stories of her family history that she could remember, trying to find anything about where Great Grandma came from, and why.

They passed into the rolling grass lands of the coastal plane. Caspian continued instructing Rox on some theory or practice of magic. He had her practicing lesser spells and sensing him doing the same. A few times he pointed out when the backwash of some larger spell swept past. On some of these, he was able to point out to her the pieces of the source spell. On further interrogation from Steven, Caspian admitted that he was not sure of the specific spell being used, or why, but that it was coming from the south, and to produce that much ripple a lot of power had to be in play.

At lunch time, Caspian stopped for a few moments of personal prayer and worship. Steven and Rox stood near by, letting the mules browse. Once he got back up and going Caspian briefly explained that until reaching Veradale, he had not had any real clue what day of the week it was. Now that he knew, he was going to try to give at least cursory respect to the Sabbath each week.

In the afternoon, as a storm rolled in from the sea, Caspian had Rox practice casting a spell to keep things dry. Rox wanted to try keeping the whole party dry. Caspian convinced her to scale back to keeping her cloak dry. On her second cast, she got the spell to partially work. In his own example, Caspian’s spell had the drizzle running off his cloak, without it absorbing any water. Rox was able to get hers to do the same, until her concentration broke when a sheet-lightening flash startled her.

That evening they stopped in a way-station. This was right by a bend in the river that created a natural corral. The station also had an indoor bath house. With hot water. Everyone was appreciative of this.

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 60

These have been some long days on the road; two days of grass lands and farms, all going down hill. The villages and towns are no longer remarkable. Maybe the longest walk I have had with Rox since marrying her.

It has been interesting watching her learn to use an inborn talent that she cannot use at home. I gather that Diana and Alex should also have some kind of similar ability.

We have met some ‘elves’ who claim some control of our schedule, and Caspian is obliging them. He says that on one hand they are stuffy, annoying, and arrogant. On the other, they may make up for this by being more help than we can guess at right now.

Late in the afternoon, they finally approached the city. The local farms extended right up to the city fortifications, with irrigation canals demarcating property lines more than fences or walls. The city fortifications were staggered earth-worked walls ringing the city in three ranks each spaced enough to provide a long bare field between them, and appeared to go all the way around. Where the walls crossed the road stone-work guard towers stood with attached barracks.

In his curiosity, Steven inspected the wall with his binoculars. The stone works were only at the road. But at intervals beyond, Steven identified fortified artillery stations, alternating with passages for infantry or cavalry. Each stone tower had an array of colored banners hanging or flying. Rox identified one as that of the Baron, who administered the city; one for the Duke, who administered the four other baronies including and around the city; one for the Kingdom, and three different ones for the units within the city guard. Also a smaller set of flags was set to the back of the towers, which looked like semaphore flags.

The three and their mules passed the first ring of defense with the rest of the traffic, with little more than a visual inspection and otherwise such lack of interest as to not warrant stopping. The armor over red tunic of the city guards on duty was the same as from Veradale, but the specific unit insignia was different.

Once past, Steven looked at the back side of the closest artillery fortifications, and identified trebuchet’s, catapults, ballista’s, and sufficient fresh supplies that the only things missing were the crewmen to man the post.

The second ring of defense was similar to the first. Steven had put his binoculars away so as not to attract undo attention. Again the guards at the towers simply gave them a visual inspection, without any attempt to stop them.

The third ring had a post across the road, stopping all traffic for inspection in both directions. They dutifully lined up and took their turn, and paid the fee to enter the city. As they were questioned they also asked where the best yards to buy riding horses was to be found.

It was past local dinner time as they passed the final stonework gate and city wall into the city proper. Following their instructions they went to the main north-south road of the city and turned south. As they went Caspian noted the breezes, and commented that this could not be the actual sea-port. It did not smell of the sea. The sun was shining down the east-west streets as they came to the stock district.

Caspian suggested they find a place for the night, and start from there in the morning.

The next morning, after some searching, they found the horse paddocks. Up to now, the Caplan’s had felt a bit of good humored superiority for their height advantage. Now it was turned against them as they tried to find first some saddle-broken horses tall enough to carry them, then some tack sufficiently large, and at a good price. By the end of the day they had accomplished their task, at almost the expected level of expense. Before taking their mounts on the road, they first proved them in a ring near the paddocks, both to test the animal’s actual health, and the fit and usability of the tack.

Rox and Steven were used to what they understood as American Western type saddles. The local saddles were closer to but not fully like English type as they understood, but not quite. These had a bit of swell on front, but no horn; there was generous padding under the seat, and enough surface and laces to attach saddle bags and gear front and back of the rider; the metal stirrups were of the expected shape, and open. They both needed new stirrup straps, and to learn how to handle their horses. It still looked amusingly like riding low-riders, for Steven and Rox.

With the two mules still in tow, they headed out. Steven was the worst at riding, but with a few days continuous practice was soon adequate. On the other hand, Caspian was the most saddle sore.

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 64

We crossed national boarders. The ponies do move faster than we did on foot. I understand that this kingdom is friendly to the one we just left. It is the next one south that is the belligerent.

Caspian is saying we need to go one city south, and there pick up an east bound highway. From there, work our way south and east, and up past the coastal ranges and back onto the high plains. Then up onto a certain mountain range and the city, Shalaia. The few we have talked to say that is about two weeks or longer to the inland mountains, depending on what roads we can take.

Here’s hoping it’s uneventful.

071 – Meeting the self-important

Steven found his experience with the local tailors to be just as disagreeable for him as Rox had found for her. On the other hand, Rox was able to assert herself sufficient to get one ‘tasteless’ gown made that she actually liked. She came home with two new gowns, and a few other pieces of clothing.

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 114

The Tailors here are efficient and capable. But the formal costume they are building for me leaves much to be desired, by my own tastes. I look like a jester. Tomorrow we go before the Clan that seams to be in charge here.

We were told to make a bit of a scene, I presume without getting out of hand.

Caspian says he has magically given us the local language, but it may not last due to the various magic’s in the area interacting. We shall see. At any rate, I can understand the locals for the moment. 

Steven initially had to fight against laughing at their costumes. Rox wore a formal gown that looked made of Elizabethan Motley with a clashing translucent robe. Steven had baggy trousers that ballooned to just below his knees with cloth boots from there, and a crushed velvet vest over a linen shirt, again in colors that he would only have put together on a jester. Caspian was again in his despised formal.

The carriage ride was unremarkable, as they traveled around the mesa to the local equivalent of an office building and shown in. Steven whispered to Rox that the Swiss Guards at the Vatican would fit here without a second look. Rox responded that they would be the conservative looking ones here.

They were shown into a third floor room. The room was wider than it was deep, and on an outside wall. A curved table sat to one side with the windows behind it, facing the doors. The perimeter of the room had deep shadows despite the open plan, and open windows. A bench was set in the focal point of the table, where the three were escorted and allowed to sit.

It was all Steven could do to stifle his amusement at the theater of the situation. Sharlot had wanted a scene caused. Steven could cause one just by laughing at what he saw. Rox felt the weight of the situation how these people, these elves, were an impediment to retrieving her children. Caspian was initially bored, but got himself into gear as he was brought into the room.

Twelve high backed chairs were in asymmetric array around the far side of the table, three were currently empty. Caspian had warned that the pompous windbag sat at the center. The spare chair on the far left was the clerk, and therefore of slightly less importance than the rest.

The elves in their seats were back lit and had some what of a harsh shadow obscuring their features and dress. As Steven's eyes adjusted, he could see that there were more males than females, that they were in similar styles of costume to what he and his wife wore, and that they were all taller and some obviously heavier in comparative build than he was.

The clerk started the audience. “Mage, these are the parents of the Children of Prophecy, brought before us as we instructed?”

Steven did not let Caspian answer, but this was prearranged. He stood and spoke.

“I am Steven Phillip Caplan, Husband to Roxanne Clarice Caplan, Father to Diana and Alexander. What is it you want of us, that you delay us in retrieving our children?”

The pompous windbag spoke first. “We want your children safely returned to your care and to know that they are being raised to their proper destiny. You may sit down, human. Our Daughter, we understand that you have magical talent, it this true?”

Rox had thought about being as flamboyant as her costume, but instead chose to be her usual self. “Yeah, it is. But having only the last months to work with it, I am not certain what I am capable of. The Mage tells me that I have surprised him on several occasions.”

“This is all nice and well, Pervical, but that is just passing time.” Sharlot interjected from halfway between the center and the clerk. “We need to hear the report on what has been found surrounding the monarchs of Krogg. Mallob that was your responsibility.”

Another elf, from the other side of the table spoke. “Our overall information is limited, as the current monarchs have made a concerted effort during their reign to control information about themselves. We have learned that when they were wed approximately thirty years ago, there was a prophecy made that prompted the execution of the voice if it. Our records of what it says are third hand at best, and incomplete. We have learned, as the Mage said his sources report, that the children will play a roll in the violent succession of these monarchs. To this end, they have apparently sought to take control of these children’s lives. Our investigators are still working in the archives, and have sent to Krogg, to investigate further.”

Pervical, the pompous windbag sitting in the center, spoke. “So we can barely confirm what the mage has alleged, regarding the motives of Krogg. I still maintain that this is of lesser importance.”

Steven countered this. “Perhaps to you, but as the father of those kidnapped, it is nice to know that there is at least some kind of rational reason for this nightmare. How would you like your children kidnapped and not even know why, let alone where, or if you would ever see them again?”

Pervical’s oily tone in his response rubbed all the fur the wrong way. “The prophecies about the Chaos Bringer cycle, and its harbingers are relatively common knowledge to any even remotely versed in their history. That it happens to coincide with other happenings is hardly a surprise, as life continues.”

A female to Sharlot’s right responded to this. “If you happen to live in the right community. Go off this mountain, and you find that there are many such things as local prophecies that simply are not talked about or disseminated to outsiders, whether it be simply community to community, or world to world.”

Pervical was not going to be lectured to about his provincialism or preconceived stereotypes. “The point at hand is not what was prophesied by whom, when, or about what. It is about getting the Harbingers of the Chaos Bringer trained and ready to face it once it arrives.”

“You are talking about my children, then?” Steven interjected.

Pervical ignored Steven. “I am aware that the mood of this council is to provide any and all help to Our Daughter and her paramour, to retrieve their children. I have never had any argument against reasonable measures.”

Sharlot interrupted him. “No, you just want to keep them here, to personally oversee their growth to maturity. Rasgan, you are the one in charge of that. What have you got set up?”

Pervical agreed. “Yes, to see that they are trained as befits elves, from the earliest possible moment.”

Sharlot stabbed again. “And the parents can be returned to their home.”

Pervical answered this. “Yes, when they are ready to.”

“And if this is before the children are fully trained, the children will remain as the parents leave. Just as the conscripts of our own military are compelled to.”

“It’s for the best.”

Rox and Steven stood up, Steven a beat ahead. “Excuse me Humber Shroober, but NO! Roxanne and I will be taking OUR children Home!”

They were both at the center of every ones attention. Several elves were stifling giggles. Neither Steven nor Rox knew why; Steven dismissed the giggles and kept going.

“I thank you for your help, and all you will yet do to further this cause. But let me say one thing clearly. I am going to get my children back, and I am going to take them back to my house, where my wife and I will raise them. You can help, or stand aside. But I will not allow you to take them from me.”

Later Steven would recognize that this was exactly the scene that Sharlot wanted made.

As it was, the elves were alternately regaining control of their giggles, or sitting in stony offended pride.

After a moment, a male elf from Pervical’s left spoke. “Well, we see that they have the passion necessary to accomplish the task. It appears that they are ignorant of any kind of prophecy and don’t have much care of acting within or without its constraints. Personally, I would just as soon let them get about their parental business, and provide them with whatever help we can.”

Steven and Rox sat back down as the rest politely ceded the conversation to the new speaker.

“My agent has tested and evaluated Steven Phillip, and his equipment. His opinion is that the skills are in place, but some of his equipment is not up to the task of dealing with any magic that he may encounter in his travels. Another agent familiar with Krogg reports that the monarchs there have some fearsome magic to augment their skills. However they have not been on the battlefield in some time. The conclusion is that some replacement equipment is required. Further I have asked Mallob for information of such magical items native to this world as might be useful. He has yet to provide the list, but I trust his office will in reasonable time.”

Mallob answered. “Yes. We are still compiling that list. I was told they expect to have it complete by this afternoon.”

“Good. Steven Phillip, we will cull the list, and present you with what we believe is the best option in private discussion.”

Sharlot took up the point. “And Roxanne?”

This was answered by the person sitting farthest from the clerk. “We are still working out a schedule. We should be ready to proceed this afternoon, if she will be so kind as to return.”

Roxanne stood. “I will.” She sat.

Sharlot continued. “Good. Cuinton what is the evaluation of the traveling gear. Is it acceptable, or can we provide anything?”

Steven stood at this. “Most of it is acceptable. But there are some modifications or alterations that could be made.”

Before he could continue, and knowing that this was not the time or place, he yielded the floor.

The elf that had restarted things after Steven’s standing down of Pervical answered. “Arrangements can be made to provide whatever is desired, so long as there is sufficient communication.”

Steven wished, not for the first time, that the chairs were not back lit, so that he could actually see the faces and details of the elves seated before him.

The elf seated next to the clerk spoke.  “And what of cost? A handful of outfits for those of such size as these are is but a pittance and hardly missed in the budget. But suits of armor and the labor cost for them can be considerable. Not that I expect to outfit these in plate armor, I simply need to know what the costs are anticipated to be. We already owe the Mage a considerable sum.”

Pervical answered this. “Faxeld, it was decided before we started this that the cost would be born. Whatever it was. To their credit, Our Daughter and her paramour apparently understand the value of things generally and are frugal in their doings. I do not expect that they will change and spend us into penury.”

Before anyone else could bring up something Pervical stood. “Is there anything else to be discussed at this time? Then we are done.”

u
� h���s�f aesthetics?” He was calling her bluff, as she rarely went on at length over anything so trivial as clothes or tailors. Nor was she given to high kicks. But Steven blocked this one just off his right shoulder as she pivoted on her left foot, the dress trailing like shimmering clouds.

Steven stepped in and wrapped her in his arms as she regained her footing. “It’ll be all right. Everything will work out.”

Her tears soaked his shoulder, as he held her to him.

As she settled down. Steven started rambling about his own afternoon.

“The ‘specialist’ Verigan came. We sparred. With my sword, I felt like the comparative novice I am, never mind that guy was almost half again my height.”  Steven rubbed her back, the way she liked.

“I took him apart with just my hands, would have made my D.I. proud; but then having his kidneys at my level was almost not fair. I could not really read him, to see whether he was impressed in anything, though.” His left hand still ached from a solid contact where he had slapped the elf’s arm to the floor.

“He looked over my coat and things. His only comment was that I apparently don’t have any armor.” Steven had remembered the first few times in the Marines when his effects had been inspected, and down checked as not yet up to snuff.

“Just before he left, he suggested that the formal from Veradale was tacky, and that I should get a better suit for the meeting day after tomorrow. At least about the suit we agreed.”

This stripped Rox’s emotional gears and struck her sense of humor.

Steven had one last shot. “Caspian said I could use his, and he would go in his skivvies.”

Rox’s tears were overtaken by her laughter as Steven continued to hold her.

072 – Aftermath Of One Meeting, Start Of Another

The other assembled elves stood, and several of them filed out. Steven, Roxanne, and Caspian also stood.

Sharlot, Cuinton, and Mallob all came around the table and approached.

Cuinton was an older male elf, slightly stooped in age, his face full of laugh lines and crows feet, and with the airs of one perpetually discovering delights in new things. Mallob, also an older male, had the airs of an academic more at home in a pile of books than among people; he looked to still be barely containing his mirth. Sharlot was shorter than both of them.

Sharlot spoke first, watching the door close behind Pervical. “Thank you, Steven. By standing up to Pervical, you may have just put him into required agreement with the rest of us.”

Steven inclined his head. “You are welcome. So what actually happens now? Rox comes back later this afternoon. What about myself, and Caspian?”

Cuinton answered this. “First, I need to get that list, and compare it to what we know of Krogg, and make the best decision we can. My agent has told me that you are acceptable, if locally unorthodox in your use of a sword. If it is alright, we will look in that direction for you. As for other equipment, I have to ask around a bit to see who is willing to help and available. That will take a day or two, which is about all the time we have. Then I will send word and you will be able to get whatever you want or need done. Do know this; it is observed that you travel light: if that is your preference, than by all means do not let us over encumber you with useless toys.”

Mallob took the conversation. “Young human, where did you learn that epitaph?”

Steven had to think a moment. “Humber Shroober? I think I got it from Roxanne’s grandmother, Merilyn. Why do you ask?”

Mallob chuckled. “Because I have not heard it in ages. I think it was in this room when your progenitor, Rodira, stormed out, young lady. She called Pervical that after he refused to allow her to marry her human lover.”

Sharlot laughed some and Cuinton guffawed.

Mallob continued. “Come to think of it, about half of the council was here then. As they argued Pervical was trying to assert his right as the father of her betrothed, and she would not have any of it. She had already refused to be in the same room as her betrothed.”

Sharlot finished the story. “She had anticipated something like what happened. She stormed out of here, picked up a bag of what she was taking with, and left the city. Pervical tried to follow. She teleported right out of his sight, and never came back. I saw her twice after that. Once at her wedding, and once at the ring when she and her paramour left the planet. She altered her appearance to that of a human shortly after leaving here. Pervical tried to collect any trace to use to follow her, but she had destroyed nearly all of it before she left.”

Caspian spoke for the first time since entering the room. “Then how did you make the trackers given to me?”

Sharlot smiled. “I said nearly all. I had a lock of hair. Rodira made me swear not to give it to our parents. I never told anyone I had it, until it was determined that you needed to be found, Roxanne.”

Roxanne had spent the whole time looking between Sharlot and Cuinton. At the mention of her name she rejoined the conversation. “You two look similar. How are you related?”

Cuinton’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. “I am her uncle. A word of advice: Do not bother seeking out my brother or his wife. They make Pervical look hospitably agreeable.”

Steven wanted to have the unfinished story finished. “What happened to the betrothed, Pervical’s son?”

The three elves looked at anything else, poker faced.

Steven provoked them. “Well?”

Faxeld, who had walked up behind Cuinton, dryly answered the question. “He was mated to my cousin, whom he had already impregnated. Pervical sent them out of the city in shame. They live on the far side of the continent, happy to be away from the meddling of their respective families, at last report.”

Caspian broke out laughing, and had to lean on his staff for balance.

The scandalized elves turned to Faxeld, who stood shorter than the other elves, only a head and little taller than Steven, and carried a large ledger book. He also wore spectacles, for reading, on the tip of his nose.

“Master Cuinton, I would like a moment of your time, before you return to your office.” Faxeld then strode off.

The meeting dismissed, they left to their duties. Steven and Roxanne gathered up the still chuckling Caspian, and went to find lunch.

The new elfin dress fit better than anything Roxanne had ever owned before in her life. It flowed and conformed to her body as if it were liquid poured over her rather than being cloth and it shimmered like liquid. The various blues in the dress accented and complimented her looks orders of magnitude better than the morning’s motley. Steven was speechless when she showed him. The tailors thought it tasteless, but after appealing to their dislike of Clan Leader Pervical, they relented. After having her hair tended to and a light bit of make-up applied, Rox then went to the afternoon clan meeting as she had been bidden.

She found a carriage waiting outside the hotel. This took her to the Clan offices. The elfin word escaped her, but it translated to something close to office. A young elf female just a little taller than she was greeted Rox, as she lighted from the carriage. Were it a car, Roxanne would have just gotten out, but one does not just ‘get out’ of a carriage.

The female elf led her into the building, through a mezzanine, and to the doors leading to Councilor Sharlot’s office. Two guards stood by the hallway doors staring at the far wall, but seeing everything in front of them. Their red motley dress clashed with her blue, but that was not her worry. The young elf left her there, saying for her to stay here until called for, and disappeared.

Roxanne stood there for close to half an hour, before the doors were opened from the inside. She was about to go inside when one of the guards blocked the way with his pole arm. So she stood back and waited. The pole arm retracted. Some functionaries filed out of the room, and scattered down the halls. She was then announced. She took a hesitant step, but no pole arm blocked her path. So she put on her best confidence and strode in to the room. Rox thought she made a good unpretentious entrance.

“So, this is our ‘lost daughter’.”

Rox did not recognize the male voice, but did not like the attitude she heard in it. She stepped forward into a conference room, dominated by a table in the middle, with chairs along either side. Eight elves, both male and female, were seated on either side looking like players ready to enter a scrum, with Rox as the ball. Each senior elf had a junior Assistant who had a folio open before them, with a pen, inkwell, and blotter nearby. A clerk sat off the far end of the table, taking notes, and appeared to be otherwise not involved.

‘These are the friendly ones,’ though Rox. There was not a chair at the end, so she stood at it, looking around. The size difference was enough that she felt like a child looking up at a table of adults. There was a stand at the end of the table, which Rox stepped up onto. Sharlot sat at the far end, on Rox’s left, then her assistant, a younger male; then Faxeld with his books on the table before him, and his clerk, she sat at Rox’s immediate left, and looked as pinched and stone-faced as Sharlot was open. On her immediate right was another male assistant, then Rasgan with a notebook that he scribbled in with a pencil, Mallob sat to his right with another female assistant sitting opposite Sharlot.

Sharlot evidently chaired the meeting, and started in. “Thank you for coming Roxanne. You look nice, the color is very flattering. Now then, Rasgan, you have been scribbling on your schedule since lunch. What have you come to?”

Rasgan did not look up, but spoke as he sorted his writing. “Well, of the four available tutors, only one is willing to have anything to do with ‘an unlearned half-breed’.”

They spoke in the elf-local language, which Rox could still hear and comprehend clearly, but was having increasing trouble articulating smoothly. Rox had a brief epiphany, as she heard a word that caught her attention. Her court discipline held her in check, but now she knew where ‘schwaer’ possibly came from. It was the derisive elf-language word for ‘half-breed’ with related meanings drawn from ‘excrement.’

Rasgan continued. “I have been arranging Master Iver’s schedule, after consulting with all involved, to send his normal students to the other instructors, allowing Master Iver to give as much time as necessary to Roxanne. He will have time tomorrow morning to evaluate Roxanne’s skill and ability level. From there he can better set up what training he will need to provide.”

Rasgan looked up from his scribbling, and at Roxanne. “Is that acceptable, young one?”

For a moment, Rox was going to take offense at ‘young one,’ then remembered that Rasgan was probably an order of magnitude older than herself, and by his look, the oldest at the table.

Setting her pride aside, Rox nodded. “Yes, sir. I will meet with Master Iver tomorrow morning. Is there any preparation for this?”

Rasgan turned back to his notebook, as his clerk seated between himself and Rox started scratching at his book.

“No. I will send a coach that will take you to Master Iver’s. Dress comfortably, as you would for your daily activities. Not in this formal . . . stuff.”

Sharlot moved things along. “Very good. We will be partially at Master Iver’s whims. Moving along. Since Master Cuinton could not join us, I expect you are delegated his information, Master Mallob?”

Mallob looked slightly board. “Yes, madam-chair. Master Cuinton is arranging for each of the Caplan’s to be taken to appropriate outfitters. So as not to overtax any one shop, Roxanne is to be taken to Master Eklund, and Steven to Master Mundrl.”

Rox noticed that Faxeld looked very interested in this.

Mallob continued. “The masters have already been informed, and are willing to help. Roxanne can walk to Master Eklund’s after Master Iver is done with her tomorrow, as their establishments are in proximity. Steven is being sent on a task tomorrow, and upon his completion and return will then be taken to Master Mundrl. It is expected that final equipment and materials will be determined by the masters in working directly with the Caplan’s.”

Faxeld spoke up at this point.

“The masters have been told that they are to operate on an open account, but to be circumspect in what costs they accrue. Pervical and several of the others are already complaining about the costs of this.”

He let this float above the table for a moment. 

073 – Much Talking, Some Listening

Rox looked around the table, and noticed that Sharlot was in good humor, Mallob was unreadable, Rasgan was absorbed in his notebook, and Faxeld looked annoyed. The assistants echoed their masters, somewhat. Rasgan’s assistant looked like he wanted to get as far from Rox as he could, though that may simply be annoyance at an interminable meeting.

Faxeld continued. “Personally I think Pervical could use a good comeuppance.”

He turned to look at Roxanne directly, his expression softening. “Young Roxanne: so long as the books balance, I don’t care how much you spend or this adventure costs. On the other hand, I might be able to convince Pervical that it would be less expensive to let you keep your children, than for him to keep them here.”

Rox smiled a bit, and nodded. “Thank you, Master Faxeld.”

“Not ‘Master.’ Just Faxeld will do.”

Mallob took the conversation back. “Roxanne. How much do you know of ‘why you are here’? How much has The Mage told you of the motivations that have caused this adventure?”

Rox unexpectedly found she was the center of attention. She took a breath and started, hoping her language would be effortless.

“Well, Caspian has said that there is a kingdom, Kragg . . . something . . . which is to the south of here. The rulers of that place have some interest in my daughter and son in regards to some prophecy about themselves. Thus they sent to kidnap them. The kidnappers are currently in caravan heading south. It is expected that they are approaching their destination.

“Also that there is some similar prophecy in your hands about my children being the forerunners of some future villain. I must admit I did not pay as close attention when told about this as I now suppose I should. I gather that this villain is the worry of Pervical, and why he is considering kidnapping my children himself.

“The motivations of villains are of less concern to me than simply retrieving my children. The sooner Steven and I can finish here, the sooner we can get to our children.”

Rox felt herself flush with effort, and tried to carefully speak as the vocabulary seemed to slip just beyond her deliberate command.

Mallob nodded. “You apparently have the basics. I shan’t bore you with all the specifics. Starting with our own information: Your children line up to the prophesied circumstances to foretell the coming of the Chaos Bringer. This Chaos Bringer is essentially an individual who will cause planet wide upheaval and destruction.

“There is significant debate in some circles about the meaning of the follow on verses in the prophecies concerning the harbingers. Some say that the harbingers are simply markers of the time. Others say that they are involved and participants of the times and events.

“The most common school of thought on these is that they will be involved. The side they choose to be on will help to determine the duration of the Chaos Bringers doings. Some people speculate that it they can control the harbingers, they may be able to influence the Chaos Bringer. I am afraid Pervical is swayed by some of that stripe.

“Until events happen, there is never any sure answer. It is because of these various beliefs that your family has been drawn into this.”

Rox summarized as he took a breath. “So, my children are unique, particularly my son. I have come to understand that. This marks them as prophetically special, in relation to a villain. There are some who believe they can influence this villain, to an extent, by controlling my children.”

 Mallob looked at her as she presumed he did a student who grasped a concept at his first lecturing on it. Then he changed to a new subject.

“The Kingdom of Krogg is a bit more nebulous to me. The Mage informed us of some of their interest, and we have been researching to verify it. Unfortunately we do not have any record of their prophecies here. But some of Cuinton’s agents inform that there has been a bit of an uproar in their royal courts, as they have been collecting as much information as they could from as many peoples as they could about the Harbingers.

“What we have learned is that there was a prophetic curse put on the current monarchs that they would be killed by the harbingers. There are further intimations, some offering ideas on how this may come about, but we cannot verify anything yet. We are continuing to investigate.”

 “This brings me to The Mage. How aware are you of his abilities and disposition?” Mallob looked at Roxanne.

Rox took a moment to review her memories, and then started. “I do not have a broad range to compare him to, but he appears to know what he talks about, and what his own skill level is. He seemed to enjoy conversing with The Sorceress in Veradale, as they appeared to be approximate equals in ability. He is generally aware and cautious in his magic casting. For instance he has capability to teleport but allows himself, as I understand, to be constrained by social custom first and safety second in how he uses this ability. On the other hand, he is occasionally thoughtless in his preoccupation with something, and may forget or bypass something.”

As Rox finished, she realized she was no longer speaking the elf tongue, but the Veradale one.

Mallob nodded, and continued in the elf tongue. “Caspian was not our first choice, but was among those who we determined were skilled enough and had the experience necessary to accomplish the task. By your admission you are not aware of how the mages of this world are ranked. Suffice to say that Caspian is in the upper third for ability and responsibility in The School of the Orders.

“As such, he is skilled enough to stand even with any other magic user, should he so choose. He learned from his infancy the fundamentals of magic. While his skill at instruction is unknown due to his choice of vocations, his skill at application is well know and respected in certain circles. In short Caspian’s skill level is high and he is competent in that skill.

“His character is generally without significant reproach. Meaning that like all people, he has his flaws. Fortunately, or not for our purposes, it was because of one of those flaws that we were able to secure his cooperation in helping you.”

Roxanne interrupted, as an overheard snippet from The Sorceress resurfaced. “The Orders Library or the collapsed pass?”

Mallob did not even single-take at her interjection. “The collapse of the Hildyar Pass. He needed a little help, one of our mages obliged. I shan’t engage in gossip over the various versions of the story. I leave it to The Mage’s modesty to share what of the story he chooses to. The point being there was a debt to be repaid, which was called in.

“In summary, he is of good character, and sufficient power and ability to accomplish anything asked of him. He does chafe at what he feels are unreasonable restrictions, but then who does not. It is expected that he has endeavored with varying levels of success according to his and your innate talents to instruct you in the rudiments and fundamentals of magic, as well as acclimate you and your paramour in the local customs and society so far as he judged necessary.”

Rox responded, in good humor. “Right. He’s a good shlub.”

This got the light hearted response from several at the table that Rox had hoped, which served to lighten the mood some.

Sharlot took the control of the meeting back, as her mood settled. “The last thing we have to address is your own history and capabilities. Before we discuss you, I ask digression to address my sister, Rodira. Some here did not know her personally. To be brief, like several of our mother’s lineage she was a skilled mage; she traveled in her youth, and found love among the humans. When called back to begin her family with her betrothed, she refused. The aftermath of that is now general knowledge, and stands at the end of this table.

“That now brings me to her descendants, including Roxanne. Like your forbearer's you have exhibited a talent for magic. That is perhaps the most interesting thing we can tell you about who you are. Thanks to those who have assisted you to this point that is not a surprise to you. If you are as skilled as my sister, your capabilities are at least comparable to Caspian.

“This is all academic to the real reason you are important.”

Sharlot picked up a sheet of paper. “Some centuries ago, the prior Chaos Bringer was laid to rest in a rare ceremony where enemies worked together. There was a priest there who was taken by an outside spirit that caused him to prophesy, as follows.

“In future time, a new Chaos Bringer will arise.  A son and daughter will be born to one who is a forth generation half-elf.  Darkness will seek them, to make the daughter a powerful witch, the son a lord of battle.  Light will seek them to keep them from the darkness.  Nothing will stand before them that they do not countenance, and they will grind the wicked under their heel.  In their time will come a child, who will bring chaos to all that can be found.”

Sharlot put the paper down. “You, Roxanne, are that forth generation half-elf. Your son and daughter are the children mentioned. The rulers of Krogg are part of the darkness mentioned. Pervical sees himself as on the side of light, seeking to keep your children from darkness. It is expected that your children have plenty of potential within them.

“So, this is why all the trouble.”

Rox nodded. “And why so many think they can impose themselves upon my life and my family. I’d like a copy of that to share with Steven. It will help him make sense of things.

“It is not a surprise to me about Grandma Rhoda being a mage of some sort. My mother instructed me on putting a spell on my newborn children, as her mother instructed her. I now know it was a spell, but at the time I did not. That I have potential to equal Caspian, I had not considered that. I suppose there is much about me that I do not really know, by your perceptions and understandings. And vice versa much about me that you do not know. Thus this meeting, and the classes that have been scheduled.”

Rox paused and looked around the table. Sharlot was beaming. Her younger male assistant was making a note. Faxeld looked approving, and ready to leave. His younger female assistant likewise looked ready to go with her ledger closed. Rasgan’s assistant simply waited patiently, and Rasgan himself was engrossed in his book. Mallob nudged Rasgan to get his awareness back to the table. Mallob’s young female assistant appeared to be as anxious to end this as Rox was, and perhaps as friendly.

Sharlot spoke. “Well then. Are there any other questions to be answered?”

She surveyed the table. She turned to the Clerk. “The clerk will make no comment about the shift of language, from local to otherwise through the course of the meeting. This meeting is adjourned.”

The assistants each pushed back from the table, and then pulled the chairs for their respective masters, as they stood. Faxeld and his assistant took their books and left without any further discussion. He opened one of the doors to its lock and left.

Rasgan sat for a bit longer then took a sheet of paper and gave it to his standing clerk, who slid to over to Roxanne, the clerk politely keeping his distance from her. Later Rox would wonder if she should have been insulted by his behavior toward her.

“This is your introduction to Master Iver, and to Master Eklund. Take it with you in the morning. Good afternoon, young miss.” Rasgan closed his book, let his assistant pull his chair as he stood, then did not wait for the young man as he took his own book and left.

The assistant gathered his own book and all but fled in pursuit of his master.