Chapter 13 - The Last Leg
Garnthalisbain leaned back in his seat and sighed contentedly. He took a small sip from the wine flask in his hand and smacked his lips soundly. Swinging his gaze over to Ambori, Garn grinned minutely. "Now this," he said matter-of-factly. "This is how we should have been going about it from the beginning."
Ambori chuckled and raised his own wineskin in salute. "I'd have to agree with you on that one." Then he tilted back his head and allowed a long stream of the cool fluid to roll down his throat, a small dribble of the dark liquid trickling out the side of his mouth.
Garn smiled genuinely and went back to his own drink.
Together, both Garn and Ambori were lazily steering the wagon's horses from high atop the driver's perch, mainly just keeping them in line with the rest of the caravan. Leading the way, with the colors of Southmoor flapping from the pennon on the tip of his lance, was Sir Terius. His silvery armor gleamed in the bright sunlight and seemed to outshine the white of the snow all around. To his immediate right and left were Sir Raviron and Sir Krehgal, respectively. The remaining two knights remained a respectful distance in the background, holding the caravan's rear guard. Not that there had been much use for it, there hadn't been any sign of the Sunraiders since the surprising arrival of their Southmoorian "honor guard".
Not that Garn was about to complain. Since their arrival he hadn't needed to do much more than continue his daily study of Lanarra's condition. And it wasn't as if that task was terribly difficult. Every day, no change. Very simple.
Nicalla, the little girl twin, had apparently decided to make Terius her surrogate father, giving Tasha a much needed break from the childs’ attentions. Nicalla rode on the front of Terius' war horse and remained there. Even from the distance, Garn could just imagine the questions that she was continually plaguing the head knight with.
Thinking of Tasha, Garn swung his gaze off to the left to check on her. She was riding one the knight's spare horses, as was Ceorn. The squires all rode their ponies behind the wagon, leading the packhorses and supplies.
Tasha appeared to be attempting brevity with Ceorn as he flooded her with his unending stream of stories and lame jokes. Even from his spot on the wagon Garn could easily hear the kelt's cocky chuckle. The black-robed mage shook his head in sympathy and buried his face a bit deeper into the cowl, his bangs flopping down across his eyes as he did so.
Pushing the stray strands of hair out of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of Hal walking on the other side of the wagon. Garn still couldn't believe the big man's rate of recovery. To Garn's surprise, Sir Terius, and Sir Raviron to a lesser degree, had a gift similar to Garn's involving the Power. Their abilities with the Power showed through most prominently in their compassion for the well-being of others. Consequently the only thing that they knew how to do with the Power was ease someone's pain, assess their injury and then heal it. In a way, what they did was similar to what Clerics were capable of only their abilities were more limited.
But even with his limitations, Sir Terius' ability to heal was still remarkable. With a casual touch to Hal's inflamed leg and a faint, almost unnoticeable surge of Power, the wound slowly became disinfected and closed up as if it had never been there. Hal had still been weak from the loss of blood, but two solid days of relatively decent meals and rest had almost brought him back to full strength.
That was why Hal was casually striding along beside the wagon, easily keeping pace with the rest of the caravan. The other twin, Nichos was sitting atop Hal's shoulders, both feet kicking slowly, occasionally thumping against his broad chest. The boy laughed, folding his hands on top of Hal's head. Renora walked next to the big man chatting amiably. Both had decided to walk rather than accept one of the spare steeds. Clinically, Garn approved of this. It gave Hal a chance to test out his freshly healed leg and make sure that there wouldn't be any lingering problems.
Renora's eyes were wide open, her emotions obvious on her face as she spoke with Hal. The open-hearted young man smiled down at her politely, carrying on the conversation as well as he was able despite his vocabulary limitations. Garn couldn't be certain, but he thought that Hal knew of Renora's feelings towards him. It's not like she was being terribly subtle, the way Renora just looked at Hal... He'd have to be a complete imbecile not to notice.
Garn laughed. I am talking about Hal though. And that changes everything.
"Isn't this nice, Hal?" Renora was saying, her hair was bouncing freely behind her in a steady stream as they walked. "I mean the chance to rest and take our time to Southmoor?"
Hal winced painfully as Nichos pulled on his hair a bit before smiling. "I guess, yeah."
She chuckled. "What, aren't you sure?"
Taking Nichos down from his shoulders and setting him carefully on the ground gave Hal the excuse to look away for a moment. Garn smiled as he saw the expression of abject confusion on Hal's face before the big man straightened up and spoke again. "Uhm .." he began with great eloquence. "I guess so." Nichos smiled happily up at Hal and Renora before hopping into the wagon to find something else to do.
Renora laughed and leaned against Hal's strong frame, wrapping both of her arms around his right one. "Well which is it?"
Hal looked away again. Garn coughed violently to cover up the laughter that nearly burst forth at the sight of Hal's beet red face.
Ambori leaned over and grabbed the mage's shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked with a slight grin.
Garn smiled at him winked conspiratorially. "Yeah, I'm fine. Cheers." With that they both tilted back and drank deeply. The mage belched rudely before turning his attention back to the big man and his "problem".
Hal had begun to take a sudden, very serious interest in the hilt of his sword, Stormbringer. All the while, Renora continued to lean very heavily upon his arm and talk. The whole time, Hal's face never turned a shade of red lighter than that of an apple.
"Where are you from, Hal?" Renora asked him at one point, causing Garn to pay a bit closer attention. This was a question that he'd been wanting to ask for a while now himself.
Hal glanced down at her in surprise before quickly flicking his gaze away. "Well, uhm... The same as the others. The Vineyard Grove, you knew that."
"But were you always there?" she elaborated. "I heard Lady Tasha mention that she didn't know you until a couple of years ago."
Hal nodded once, tossing his tangled hair in front of his eyes. Renora reached up to push it away from his face but he flicked it back before she could do so. "That's true." he said carefully.
After a few seconds of silence, Renora laughed and made an encouraging motion with one hand. "Wonderful. So, where did you come from?"
Hal's face slowly lost its flush as his eyes grew distant.
"Well," Hal said softly. "That's a good question... I really wish I could answer it."
Renora's gaze became confused. "Are you saying you don't know where you come from?"
Hal nodded once, regret etched on his face. "Yeah." He paused, his face showing strain as he tried to come to grips with the elusive memories. Garn found his full attention on Hal, his wineskin forgotten and resting unstoppered in his lap. A bit of the liquid dribbling into his cloak.
"All I can really... remember," the big man began. "Is images .. kinda. I see my .. my mother and father one minute. But I can't really remember them. Not anymore." Hal paused again, trying to think. The look of sorrow on his face was very moving.
"We used to live in this .. place? I can't .. y'know? It was big. That's all I know for sure." He blinked. A significant sort of blink. Garn realize the foolishness of that thought, but felt it to be true all the same. "Just .. big. Real fancy too, fancier than the Vineyard Grove's keep." He saw Renora staring into his eyes with wonder. He lowered his blue-grey gaze down to the slushy road. "You probably think I'm just making this up, huh?"
"No." Renora assured him, shaking her head softly. "Not at all. I don't think you're capable of lying."
Hal got a bit
red in the face again. His eyes showed a bit of personal regret and he tossed a guarded look across the way at Tasha. "Oh, no," he contradicted. "I can lie. I'm just not very good at it is all."
Renora shrugged her shoulders, smiling slightly. "Either way. Please continue."
Hal took a few seconds to think about what he wanted to say. "I'm not sure how much more there is to tell. My mom and dad, they were taking me on a trip with them somewhere. I don't know where. I remember being on a boat for a bit .. And riding in a carriage, I think it was ours. I'm not sure." He paused painfully, his face displaying great regret.
"Hey," Renora squeezed his arm reassuringly. "It's all right. You don't have to say anything you don't want to."
Shrugging slowly, Hal forced a weak grin. "Well, you did ask." He said before going on. "I never really saw what happened. My mom, she was so pretty .. She shook me awake one night and told me that we had to run. We ran into the woods .. next to the road. I caught a glimpse of my dad, his big sword in his big hands... He was so strong. And smart... Always knew just what to do." He took a slow, deep breath.
"I just ran. My mom fell and I stopped to help... But... She told me to keep running, that she'd catch up... She didn't." Renora gasped, her eyes beginning to water. Hal swallowed painfully and Garn couldn't really blame him at all. He found himself feeling a bit misty eyed himself.
"The next morning, I found my way back to the... spot, I guess. There was .. blood .. and bodies and... My mom and .. Mom and Dad... " Hal broke off, unable to speak anymore.
"Hey, Garn?" The mage started violently and whipped his gaze to Ambori, the look in his eyes more than easily conveying the irritation that he was feeling. The bard, quite tipsy by this time failed to notice it. "If you're just going to let your wine spill into your cloak, would you mind if I had it?"
Noting for the first time the dampness over his leg, Garn grimaced disgustedly. He handed the wineskin to Ambori without a word and turned back to Hal's story.
"... and I think that's just about the time that Lord Aeros took me in and brought me to the Vineyard Grove," Hal said, neatly wrapping up his moving tale. Garnthalisbain could have screamed in frustration.
Neither of them spoke for several moments. "You've had a rough life, haven't you big guy?" Renora asked then, completely serious.
Hal seemed to think about it for a second, then shook his head. "I don't think so."
Renora stared at him incredulously. "How can you say that? Think of all that you've been through. Think of... "
Raising his free hand to cut her off, Hal grinned slightly. "I apprec... apprek... I'm glad for your concern. But it's really all right... I'm fine despite everything, no serious injuries or... anything. My only wish is that I could be as... smart as you or the others. But," he shrugged with his boyish grin. "That's the way it goes, I guess. Aeros has a saying. 'Whatever doesn't kill you just makes you stronger'." Jokingly Hal bent his arm, curling his fist towards his shoulder and flexed. The skin writhed and rippled at the pressure. "And apparently I’m pretty strong."
Garnthalisbain stared open-mouthed at the big man as Renora chuckled happily. The mage was just astounded by the depth and thought of Hal's seemingly simple comment. It opened up a whole new avenue for Garn's opinions towards his friend. He vowed from that day forward to never seriously consider Hal as being stupid again.
"Does anyone else know about that, Hal? Your past I mean," Renora asked.
"I don't think so." Then he paused to actually think about it. "Well, I know I told Aeros, and I think he told Lord Tyren. But beyond that, you're only the... Second? Yeah, second person I've told."
Renora's eyes got very wide then, almost as wide as her smile. "Really?"
Hal nodded. "Yeah. I don't even think that Tasha knows." The smile froze on Renora's face and the gleam faded from her eyes. She didn't release her grip on Hal's arm but she didn't lean against him as much as before. Noting the change Hal turned his gaze to her. "Is something wrong?" His voice honestly conveyed his concern, just as it always did.
She shook her head softly and forced a smile back on her face. "No, not really."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
Garn shook his head slightly and sighed. The mage could hardly believe how dense the big man could be at times. And he was doing so well too.
They travelled onwards like that for a while longer in relative silence. In the near distance the spires of Southmoor Castle could be seen. And if one strained they might just have been able to make out the sounds of the immense marketplace.
After a while the knight, Sir Krehgal dropped back from the caravan's formation to ride his steed beside Hal and Renora. Garn kept a wary eye on the knight. He knew that it was a strange thought to be having of one your saviors. But all the same, Garn just couldn't bring himself to trust the knight.
What the mage slotted it up to was his looks and his attitude. He was easily the most handsome of the five knights and he knew it too. A youngish man, mid to late twenties, Garn was guessing. He had the clean-shaven, natural good looks that a lot of women went for, the mature-but-not-too-experienced-look Garn called it. The knight removed his helm and rested it upon the pommel of his saddle, revealing the glossy black hair that flowed part way down his back. Piercing green eyes and a strong, healthy frame completed the effect. That and his status as a knight, most likely.
It was his smirk, Garn decided at last. That cocky, I'm-so-much-better-than-you-and-I-know-it-too smirk. It was enough to drive a person crazy. It was almost unnatural.
"Greetings, milady," Krehgal spoke, his voice a lilting tenor but not quite musical. "How are you feeling on this fine day?"
Renora's expression was quite amusing to look at. In one respect, it was all smiles for the handsome knight. In the other, it was clearly displeased at the thought of speaking with the man. "Fine thank you, yourself?"
The knight smirked. Garn thought that it was supposed to be a smile, but it didn't quite make it to his eyes. "Why very fine, milady. Same as always, of course." He laughed deeply, very practiced and perfected. Garn decided right then and there that this man was even more sure of himself than Ceorn was. But, unlike the kelt, Krehgal didn't have much to back himself up with. That three foot sword looked a bit slower on the draw that Ceorn's fists were.
Krehgal extended a gauntleted hand down to Renora. "It pains me to see you walking all this way, milady. Allow me to save you from your present company and elevate you to my position. Ride along my steed with me and I'll tell you all about my homeland."
Renora smiled regretfully, or at least she tried to, it didn't come out quite right. "I thank you, Sir Knight. But I'm perfectly content walking, and I am more than content with my present company."
The smirk twitched and the peaceful gleam in his eyes shifted. Very faintly Garn felt a small surge that had nothing to do with the conversation. However, he shoved the thought aside as the situation looked like it was about to get ugly.
Krehgal tried to laugh it off. "Very few women deny me even once, I am impressed." His voice sounded something short of 'impressed' as he continued. "But no one ever deny me twice. Now, again I tell you woman, come up on my steed and ride with me."
The smile dropped from Renora's face altogether. "No thank you, Sir Knight." And with that she turned her head away, refusing to even look at the man.
Again, off in the back of his mind Garn felt a surge, but suddenly, Krehgal was beside himself. It was as if someone had snatched the facade of politeness and passivity away and replaced it with a feral snarling demon. Krehgal's face flushed a bright red and his nostrils flared. "How dare you, wench!" He growled, snatching a handful of Renora's hair and yanking on it. She squealed in sudden pain. "I'll teach you to... "
And that was as far as he got.
Just as Garn was readying a spell to hurl at the errant knight, Hal clamped his hand down on Krehgal's extended arm, knuckles white as he fiercely gripped the man's greave-plate. The two men locke
d eyes for a long moment, gathering the attention of everyone else in the caravan. Including that of Tasha, Sir Raviron and Sir Terius. Strangely, Terius did not immediately interfere. He appeared to be content to let the two men settle the dispute themselves.
Garn just hoped that Hal didn't do something that they would all regret.
"Peasant," Krehgal said at last, putting every ounce venom that he possibly could into his voice. "Are you actually touching me, or am I imagining things?" His smirk was back but it was hardly warm. Not to mention the decidedly frazzled look in the knight eyes. Garn's brow furrowed as he looked at the knight, the gears in his head starting to turn, almost on their own.
Hal shrugged, the expression on his face was non-committal. "At the moment, I'm just touching your armor. I'll let that go the minute you let Renora go."
The knight snorted derisively. "I'll do as I please, peasant. And if you don't release me this instant I will see to it that you don't live through the day."
Hal took a minute to ponder the situation. Renora's eyes showed a great deal of fear but also a large amount of concern for the big man's well-being. Tasha had started to make her way over to assist but Ceorn held her back, the expression on his face similar to that of Terius'. Raviron shook his head in shame, upset with his brother knight.
There is something definitely wrong here, Garn thought as his eyes narrowed, focusing directly on the knight. He began to pull at the Power.
After having thought it over, Hal looked down at Renora and grinned slightly, reassuringly. Shifting his gaze back up to the knight he met the smirk with one of his own. "Well?" Krehgal asked cruelly. "Are you going to release me or are you just going to stand there like an oaf and think about it all day long?"
Hal's face flinched once. Garn distinctly heard the big man mutter, "That does it," under his breath before, glaring slightly at the knight, Hal inhaled deeply and squeezed.
The muscles of Hal's arm strained to the breaking point for what couldn't have been more than a second. There came the sound of metal squealing in protest and then Krehgal's smirk dropped, quickly replaced by a howl of pain. His fingers sprung open, releasing his grip on Renora.
"There," Hal said with a sharp exhale. "Now I'm touching you." Garn gaped, all thoughts of using the Power vanishing from his mind. Krehgal's greave was now decorated with a hand-shaped dent that had completely crushed through the padding and bracing and was pressed to the knight's flesh. Blood had begun to pour from out of the gaps in the metal.
Renora, now released, flung her arms about Hal's torso and held him close, casting a nervous glance back at the knight. Surprised, Hal carefully put one arm around her, his other hand slowly inching towards the axe hanging from its loop on his right hip.
Krehgal stared at the crumpled armor in astonishment. The humiliation of the moment obvious on his face. With his good hand he reached for his sword. "For that, peasant," he said in a pain-filled voice. "You will die." He withdrew the blade in one fluid sweep and swung the weapon down faster than Hal could blink. Garn lunged forward in his seat desperately trying to form some sort of spell.
Sparks flew brightly into the air as Krehgal's sword was forcibly halted by a second blade. Surprised, Krehgal looked up and saw that it was the sword of Sir Terius that had interfered with his killing stroke.
Krehgal urged his horse back a step or two. Terius glared at him with an expression of extreme anger and disappointment. "You are out of order, Sir Knight," he said in a voice that made ice seem warm. "We have spoken of this abusive behavior of yours before and we will speak of it again." Krehgal began to sputter but the Head Knight of Southmoor would hear none of it, making a slashing gesture with his blade. "I don't want to hear another word from you until we reach the castle. For now you will go back and ride with the squires. And no, you will not be healed until we reach the castle. Is that understood?"
The embarrassed knight sputtered on for a few more moments then finally sheathed his blade and stiffly rode back to the squire's and the supplies, casting a dark, vengeful look back at the big man.
Sir Terius sighed deeply and sheathed his own blade. Nicalla, still perched on the front of the knight's saddle clapped her hands and laughed delightedly. "Again!" she cried. "Do it again!"
Terius smiled down at her and smoothed back her hair. "You liked that, eh?"
Garn caught a glimpse of Tasha looking very relieved, her face ashen and her eyes fixed on Hal's back. She was still breathing heavily from the action of the moment and was stoically ignoring Ceorn's attentions. Then she saw Garn watching her. Turning a bright red, Tasha snapped her gaze away and pretended to be listening to Ceorn again.
The mage chuckled and turned back to the others.
"Thanks you, Sir Terius," Renora was saying. "I thought for sure … Actually I don’t know what I thought.."
Terius tried to smile, his hawk-like gaze seeming to encompass everything while remaining focused on one object. "My pleasure, milady. I just wish that I could apologize for the actions of my errant knight." He swung his sharp gaze to Hal then. Unconsciously Hal straightened his back and raised his chin. The perfect, military posture. "I am very impressed, Hal. That was an incredible display of strength."
Hal shrugged noncommittally. "I've been through a lot," was all that he said. Renora chuckled sourly while Terius' face got a bit confused.
"I... see." He cleared his throat purposefully. "Well, don't despair. We'll be reaching the castle by suppertime tonight. And I promise you the best meal you've ever had. I give you my knightly guarantee." At that he swung his steed back forward and led the caravan back to the journey.
Renora hugged Hal fiercely. "I can't believe what you did for me Hal." She gushed, her heart in her eyes once again. "No one's ever done anything like that for me before."
Hal shrugged yet again, at the same time that Tasha swung her gaze back to the pair. "I just did what I had to, Renora. I couldn't let you be hurt by that... guy."
Renora seemed to melt. "Oh Hal." Impulsively she pulled his head down and kissed him passionately. Hal's ears turned bright red while Tasha's face froze in shock. She displayed a great deal of personal confusion as, with a wooden motion, she turned away from the sight.
When Renora finally let Hal come up for air he took it in great gulps. "Uhm... Uh... huh?" He said with the expected amount of eloquence. Renora laughed and hugged him again. Garn smiled and flicked the reins to the horses, taking the two out of his sight and getting the caravan moving again, all thoughts of Krehgal momentarily forgotten.
Ambori came out of his drunken stupor with a start. Garn was certain that he hadn't passed out but was merely dazed. The bard tried to focus his bleary eyes on the mage but was having some trouble.
Garn clapped him on the back and nearly caused the colorfully dressed man to regurgitate right then and there. Painfully swallowing back whatever it was that had shot into his mouth, Ambori tried to speak. "Where are we?" he asked groggily.
"A couple of hours from Southmoor Castle."
"What'd I miss?" he slurred.
Garn shrugged slightly. "Not too much."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"S'strange. I could'a sworn I'd missed something'."