to have some time away from
When he was absolutely certain that Lord Snake was gone, Kellen knelt down and pried up a loose tile from the floor beneath his bed. In a hollow beneath the tile was a small tatter of cloth. Kellen carefully unwrapped the rag and pulled out a small object. It glimmered brightly in the moonlight falling through the window.
'This was Father's,' he explained to the wooden soldier. He did not take the object out often, for he feared its discovery, but it comforted him on nights when he felt particularly lonely. He had found it in a box in Mother's chamber, and for some reason had fancied it and slipped it into his pocket. It was the only thing he had ever taken from her. Later he had heard Mother shouting at Lord Snake, demanding that the object be found. That was when he learned that it had been Father's.
Kellen did not know who Father was. Mother said he was dead, but at night, in secret, Kellen would whisper to Father, regardless. In that way Father had become his friend, along with the wooden soldier. Sometimes Kellen would lie awake all night, just imagining what Father looked like, wondering what it would feel tike if Father held him in his arms. He did not believe Father was dead, otherwise Mother would not look so angry on those rare occasions when she mentioned him. Mother was never angry with dead people. Kellen knew that. She had nothing to fear from dead people.
'Someday,' he said to the wooden soldier, 'Father will come and take us from this place, and things will be so good…'
Kellen climbed into bed then, tucking in the wooden soldier carefully. He held the memento of his father tightly, then let the darkness of sleep finally blanket him.
The square of moonlight from the window crept across the floor and up the bedcovers. It moved across the small boy's sleeping form, touching his dark hair, his pale cheeks. It reached his hand which had fallen open in the peace of sleep. The light shone softly on the object that rested there.
It was a small silver pin, wrought in the shape of a crescent moon encircling a harp.
The companions rode into the village with the long shadows of sunset, weary and ready for rest. They had been traveling for over a tenday now. It had taken four days of riding west from Iriaebor to reach the trade city of Berdusk. The distance might have been covered faster, but they had avoided all roads, traveling overland instead. So far they had seen no further sign of the shadevar.
They had spent one night in a disreputable inn on the outskirts of Berdusk. The bustling trade city was where Twilight Hall-one of only two permanent meeting places kept by the Harpers-was located. Caledan had asked Mari if she wished to contact any of her colleagues. Oddly, she had seemed disinterested, but Caledan did not push the point. He had no desire to meet with the Harpers himself. One was enough.
They had not lingered in Berdusk, and the ride to Elturel had taken six days more. The spring weather had turned fine and clear, and Caledan had found himself beginning to enjoy the trek. Each of the members of the Fellowship had fallen comfortably into his or her old familiar habits. Estah and Tyveris took charge of meals, Ferret constantly prowled the terrain, and Morhion kept to himself, perpetually studying his spell books in silence-the curse of being a mage. Everything was almost exactly as it had been during the days of the Fellowship, almost as if the Fellowship had never disbanded. Except there was one glaring difference: Mari Al'maren rode with them, and Kera… Kera did not.
Just a glance from the Harper, and Caledan could feel his heart beating faster. Yet each time he resolved to speak with her alone something stopped him, forced him to turn away. And something seemed to be restraining the Harper as well.
Mari had not wished to pass through Elturel, even though it was the city where she had grown up. 'There's nothing there for me now except memories,' she had said as they skirted around the city's walls. Caledan hadn't known how to respond. He knew that, sometimes, memories were all a person had left.
Now Elturel lay three days behind them, and they trod on the very edges of the Fields of the Dead. Somewhere in the vast rolling plains before them lay the tomb of Talek Talembar-and, they all hoped, the key to fighting the dark magic of the Nightstone.
The village was little more than a sparse huddle of stone houses with thatched roofs. A few peasants picked their way through the churned mud of the village's one and only street, but these looked up in fright as the companions approached, hurrying indoors. Wary eyes watched from cracked shutters as the companions rode down the street, but no villagers came out to greet them.
'Friendly place,' Caledan noted. 'Ferret, did you notice any inns or taverns while you were scouting?'
'I saw a large building on the far side of the village,' the thief said. 'If the owners aren't willing to accommodate us, I'm sure we can convince them somehow.' He idly spun a sharp dagger on the tip of a finger.
'Ferret, there is such a thing as
The big structure Ferret had spied turned out to be, in fact, an inn. It was a tidy, two-storied building of wood and stone. Tyveris and Ferret saw to the horses while the others went inside to inquire about lodging. The common room was austere but neatly kept, and the freshly scrubbed tabletops warranted a look of approval from Estah. 'Yes, this will do nicely,' the halfling said.
The innkeep, a man named Brandebar, was a jovial fellow of middle years, a widower who kept the inn with the help of his two daughters. The inn had no guests at the moment, and the innkeep was grateful for the business. When the Harper gave him three heavy gold coins, his eyes widened.
'I'll show you to my finest rooms, milady,' he said, sketching a rough bow as he pocketed the coins. 'If you don't mind my saying, you seem like important folk. We don't get many lords and ladies riding through these parts. I hope you'll find my modest rooms to your liking.'
'I'm sure we'll like things just fine,' Mari said reassuringly.
The innkeep showed them to a pair of comfortable adjoining rooms on the second floor.
'There you go,
'Don't expect me to start calling you, 'my lord,'' she replied smartly, hands on her hips.
After they stowed their gear they headed back to the common room to see what was in store for supper. Tyveris and Ferret had already finished with the horses, and each held a clay pot of ale in his hand.
'That's not fair, starting without me,' Caledan said in a hurt tone. He ordered two more pots of ale from one of the innkeep's daughters, a stout woman with ruddy cheeks and a cheerful smile. He had some catching up to do.
The innkeep himself brought them their supper-a rich meat stew, loaves of fresh, crusty brown bread, and a crock of soft, pale cheese. It was without doubt the best meal they had eaten since leaving the Dreaming Dragon, and Caledan felt his spirits lifting.
'Where's Morhion?' Mari asked as they ate.
'That mage,' Estah said with a scowl. 'He isn't the least interested in eating. He's upstairs with his nose buried in one of his musty old books. He mumbled something about needing to be ready.'
'Ready for what?' Ferret asked.
The halfling shrugged. 'Why, for battling the shadevar, I suppose.'
'I'll take him a plate,' Mari said, dishing up some of the stew and slicing several pieces of bread.
'Good luck, Mari,' Estah said, patting her hand. 'The gods know, I tried for years to get that man to eat enough without much luck. I don't know what he subsists on. Ink fumes or some such thing, I suppose.'
Caledan watched Mari as she ascended the stairs, plate in hand. Why was the Harper so concerned about that infernal mage?
After a time Mari returned downstairs. She sat back down at the table where the companions were eating and picked at her stew.
After the supper dishes had been cleared they sat near the fire, discussing their plans for the next day. According to Tyveris's map, the village of Asher was no more than a day's ride to the northwest.
Man sighed and told the others she was going to turn in early. Estah noticed that she was rubbing her temples, as if she had a headache.
'Is something wrong, Man?' Estah asked in concern, but the Harper shook her head.
'I'm tired, that's all,' Mari answered with a thin smile 'Thanks, Estah.' Mari left the common room.
