Chapter 3 – Vale
VALE
Eyes followed us as we rode our horses into the closest town. On my right, Neve remained quiet, just as she’d been since the number of the humans lost came to light.
At the final count, nineteen died at the hands of the n?kken.
One man killed himself after others found sleep.
We’d discovered his body at first light near the woods, wrists slit by a dull knife someone brought from the mines, blood staining the surrounding snow.
His wife had been one of the women the n?kken pulled into the lake.
My stomach churned. Yesterday, I’d been teaching young Samantha to draw an arrow.
This morning, we’d buried her in snow along with the other fallen—everyone realizing the dead would not stay there. Once we left the area, animals would find the bodies and feast, but the humans agreed they’d rather the dead be buried.
As it stood now, under one hundred and fifty humans remained. The number unsettled me as much as remembering the faces of the dead, for I was fae and prone to looking ahead for long lengths of time. I worried over what would happen when they got to Dergia. And after.
Their reproductive ages were more limited than my kind.
It was often difficult for fae to conceive, but to balance the scales, they could have younglings for hundreds of turns.
Humans rarely lived to see a century and could not have children for that long.
Was the human population too small to sustain them?
Protect them? And even if they survived a few turns, one day someone with no regard for their kind could find them—orcs probably.
The longer this journey stretched, the more I doubted our plan.
“Stables are over there,” said Caelo. “Let’s stop there first. The horses are exhausted.”
For this trip into civilization, my old friend was playing the part of a wandering soldier named Tyriel—Caelo’s middle name. Just to be safe, I too, would go by my middle name of Trahal, and Neve had shortened Isolde to Isol. As an added precaution, Caelo had glamoured us all to be unrecognizable.
All this in case the King of Winter, or even the Red Assassins, still searched for Neve at the command of the vampire queen. For now, we wished to remain hidden.
“Once the horses are taken care of, we should visit the inn and eat before we procure supplies.” I said, and the other two nodded their agreement. It had been a long ride into the village, and we not only wished to gather food, but also gossip.
Stories and tales, true or not, were feed for the masses and always being traded at taverns. Had there been any word of us in the area, we’d hear of it while others spoke over horns of ale. Additionally, we were curious as to what was happening at court.
Was the Festival still happening? How many Red Assassins remained in Avaldenn?
The horsemaster saw us coming and rushed out. After giving the price to feed, water, shelter, and groom our horses, we left the creatures in the horsemaster’s hands, and he pointed us to the best inn.
“I can’t wait for a mulled wine and a very hearty stew,” Neve said as we walked down the street. It was one of the few times she’d spoken in the last hours.
“Agreed.” Caelo sniffed the air. “And one of those cinnamon buns I’m smelling too.”
“We can bring some of those back to camp.” Neve smiled at that.
“Let’s see how much levae we can carry first. Buns might take up too much space,” I said, thinking about space and practicalities.
Levae bread was often used by the army, the Royal Nava, and travelers, for it was lightweight and a small amount filled one up.
The bread was rather expensive, but in our case, worth it.
If we could continue to hunt, a saddle bag full of levae could last for weeks.
The hope was for the humans to stretch the supply out for a couple of moons.
Neve’s face fell at my frugal comment, and Caelo shot me an annoyed look. Frustration at myself surged. My wife’s first smile in hours, and I dimmed it with practicality.
“Perhaps it would be best to find cinnamon biscuits,” I amended. “Smaller. More transportable.”
Bakers made them from scraps of dough and sold them cheaply. Normally, gold wouldn’t be an issue, but I had brought relatively little with me and needed to use much of it on the levae. Thankfully, my compromise seemed to lift Neve’s spirits ever so slightly once more.
“There’s The Golden Crossroads, up ahead.” Caelo angled his head to the right.
The combination tavern and inn were obvious by the sign and the masses of people exiting, all rosy-cheeked and talkative. One faerie had stunted wings, a victim of the blight of magic in the land if I ever saw one.
The coinary stood out, just beyond the tavern. Even without the sculpted pot of gold on the building’s roof, one would know it was a place of wealth as it was made of white stone while most of the buildings were crafted from logs.
This coinary was the first I’d seen since the day we’d arrived in Guldtown to confront Roar.
As tempted as I was to go inside right then and there and withdraw more gold from my account, I held back.
Despite being low on gold, silver, copper, and anything of value to sell that wasn’t the use of my sword or the actual weapon itself, going into a coinary and dealing with the cunning leprechauns who ran the interconnected financial institutions through the kingdom meant exposing where I was in Winter’s Realm.
Disguise or not, to access my coin, I’d have to give my name and my magical imprint. Though my account was my own, I was sure the king had ordered anyone with information on me and Neve to share that information.
Things of great value motivated leprechauns. What was the favor of the king if not value?
We wanted the king to know as little as possible of our whereabouts, for as long as possible.
“Golden Crossroads,” Caelo murmured. “Reckon one of the Lisika mines is nearby?”
I didn’t think the Lisika family had any mines this far south, but then again, I hadn’t believed they’d lure humans into Isila through their mines and sell them to the Vampire Kingdom, either.
“Anything is possible with that basket of snakes. We should question the barkeep.” Neve’s eyes narrowed.
“Careful questions,” I added. “If there is a mine in the area, and it’s anything like Gersemi, not many fae will work there anyway. Roar would not have entrusted that information to just anyone.”
The determined expression remained on Neve’s face made my chest swell with pride. Her fight, the way she stood up for what she believed in, was one of the things I admired most in my wife.
Wife . . .
I’d gotten used to referring to Neve in that way. First, because I’d had to. Then I’d wished to.
Now, knowing who she was, how much better she was than me, I considered myself foolish.
How long would it take for her to decide that she wished to reclaim her family throne?
After that, how much longer would it be before she realized being bound to me was a terrible idea?
Our attraction and growing bond meant little when faced with the fact that marriage was one way for her to secure alliances, which she’d need to beat the king.
I’d been taught that all my life, and for Neve, an alliance would be valuable.
Far more valuable than a single sword. Or even a male she enjoyed in her bed.
A pang cut through my chest at the thought of losing her.
Of one day not being able to call her mine when she was, very much so, the one thing I wanted in this world.
But before that pain could take hold, I shoved it down deep.
The time I feared would come, and I’d deal with it then, like a warrior and upstanding fae would.
Though barely midday, fae of all races bustled about the lower level of the tavern, below the inn. To the side of the main room, fires roared inside multiple hearths, keeping the ever-present cold at bay.
The barkeeps, two nymphs—one male, one female—noticed us the moment we walked in. The male pointed to three seats at the bar.
“Only spots left. Not near the fire, though.”
Not one of us complained as we claimed the stools, and the male nymph’s gaze found Neve. He looked her over appreciatively, and annoyance rose in me as I stood behind her to relieve her of her cloak.
“Wife,” I spoke the title a bit more loudly than normal, “I’ll put this by the fire for you.”
“Thank you.” Neve sighed wearily. I doubted she noticed the nymph eyeing her, but I noticed him look away and become engrossed with the glasses on the other side of the bar.
If the nymph wasn’t so handsome, I wouldn’t care, but nymphs were known to attract all sorts, and my emotions around Neve were raw. Hot-blooded, but raw.
“Hang mine up too.” Caelo tossed me his cloak with a wink.
I rolled my eyes but took the furs to the fire where they would warm and dry. Along the way, I listened. Gathering news was one reason we were here, but I heard nothing of value, only normal village gossip, so I rejoined Neve and Caelo and found an ale waiting for me.
“Bottoms up,” Caelo said. We toasted silently to being warm and eating a full meal for the first time in days as Neve sipped her hot, spiced wine. “We ordered bowls of stew and rolls. If you want something else, they have roasted boar.”
I salivated but shook my head. Stew cost less than roasted meat. And though we needed a full meal to keep our magic strong, I saw no need to go overboard.
“Here you go.” The female nymph approached, flowers growing out of her long pink hair.
She set two bowls down, which I insisted Caelo and Neve take as the nymph returned to the kitchens for the last. When the barkeep arrived with my steaming bowl, I thanked her and she turned to leave, but Neve lifted a hand.
“I was wondering, is there a crier in the village with the latest news from around the kingdom? Or a pamphlet? We’ve been on the road for so long, and I’m curious if anything has happened.”
“Like?” the barkeep arched an eyebrow.
“Well, I’m quite interested in the Courting Festival.” Neve ducked her head as if embarrassed to say as much. As if she was some romantic female drooling over the idea of an event.
The nymph softened, and a smile grew on her heart-shaped face. “Aye, the balls and the betrothals. I can understand wanting to know more about that! So romantic!”
I forced myself not to scoff. As the king strong armed matches he preferred, the Courting Festival was anything but romantic, though I supposed that, to the commonfae who had never so much as visited Avaldenn or seen the inside of the castle, such an event would draw the imagination.
The nymph wiped down the bar top. “And since you’re asking, I did hear a bit of news two days back. Scandalous news!”
“Is someone already wed?” Neve asked.
No doubt she was thinking about Sayyida Virtoris or Marit Armenil, both betrothed against their will for bearing witnesses at Neve and my wedding.
“Not that! Better! The Warrior Bear and his new bride are nowhere to be found!” The nymph leaned a hip against the bar, happy to indulge Neve in her gossip.
I started in on my stew. Caelo had already demolished half his bowl, and fat dribbled down his chin.
“Oh, do you hear that, Trahal and Tyriel!” Neve’s face relaxed as she dropped our middle names, the first false cover trail. Like me, I doubted she’d considered news of us had reached this far west. “Do you have any idea where they went?”
“No,” the nymph said. “Though some are guessing they left the city because the new princess was already with youngling. Lord Roar’s youngling!”
The barkeep looked scandalized, and my wife proved she could have acted at the Royal Theater for she clapped a hand over her mouth.
“No!”
“Yes! Maybe they’re going to the midlands to have the child and leave it somewhere. Old King Magnus wouldn’t abide bastards in his castle. Ironic, wouldn’t you say?”
It was ironic, though not for the reason the barkeep surmised. And apparently, she wasn’t done, for she leaned closer to Neve. “I wish there would be a sighting of them. They—”
The tavern door banged open, startling me so much that I dropped my spoon into my bowl. “A healer! We need a healer!”
Everyone spun to find a brownie yelling at the door.
The barkeep straightened. “Yeel, what’s going on?”
“Gerda had her youngling!” Yeel said. “Born with no wings and a horrible gaping hole in her chest. The healer who delivered the babe needs help. Another knowledgeable set of hands.”
A patron stood. “I’ll help.”
They swept out the door, and the barkeep let out a long, sad sigh.
“It’ll be Winter’s magic acting up again.
The last three younglings born here weren’t right either.
No wings or, if they had them, they might as well not.
Shredded to bits, the poor things. And a dryad was recently born with hair as black as the night. An oddity if there ever was one!”
“That’s so sad,” Neve said.
“That it is,” the nymph agreed.
“A little help back here would be nice!” The male nymph yelled from the back.
The barkeep gave a long-suffering sigh. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
Once we were alone, Neve began to eat with a far-away look in her eyes. A few bites in, she set her spoon down again.
“Eat it all,” I urged. “We need your magic for the final few days.”
“I constantly feel like I’m failing those we travel with. These people too.” She gestured to the bar, to those who suffered from the blight. “Their issues aren’t natural. It’s a problem with the magic of the realm, and I might be able to fix that.”
There was no denying such a thing. “But you can’t blame only yourself. You’ve only recently been freed from slavery and have learned much since then. The king might also have the power, and he’s been failing them for far too long.”
She picked up her spoon, and I shared a sidelong glance with Caelo.
Neve had said nothing about claiming her birthright.
Seeing as she’d only had a couple of weeks to come to terms with such a monumental notion, no one had pressed, but it seemed to me that she was tiptoeing closer to claiming herself as the rightful ruler of the land.