Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright © 2013 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

Jaden and his friends make their way through the Ealbourne forest, and Redwall village that lies within. The Kuros Prelate Matrick in Rosehaven had told them of his bad premonitions while visiting his brother there, and they begin investigating what might be going on. Rhyce makes a surprising admission, and Jaden begins to feel something strange.

Flashback: Oleander roams the streets of Tarad after a happy turn of events that makes her sad

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Chapter 12: Truth in the Mirror

OLEANDER

It was for the best, she guessed, but something inside her still felt sad. It had been sometime after the Midwinter festival when the lord of Tarad had announced that a generous donation had been made to keep an orphanage for the many abandoned children of the border town. There, each would get a warm bed and warm food, until they grew old enough to care for themselves, or a caring family decided to take them in. Oleander was too old for an orphanage.

Some of the children hadn’t wanted to leave their aunt Lea, but she swallowed her own pain and made them go. It would be better for them, much better, than anything she could provide. Cold and hunger was always just a bad day away at the best of times.

She would survive, though. She always survived. Oleander had to grow up on the streets on her own, and she would be just fine alone. She would miss them terribly, though. At first, she had offered to help out at the orphanage, but the governess had refused her at the door. Apparently a thief and an urchin like Oleander was bad influence on the children. She wiped away the tears that spilled over her cold cheeks. Winter could be hard for the homeless.

She hadn’t even paid attention to where she was going. A mistake she would never had done before. Oleander had grown up in Tarad. She knew every street, what to avoid and what to trust. Without thinking, she had wandered into the wrong part of town for a girl on her own.

When she looked around, and started to find the quickest and safest way back to her usual haunts, she heard the sound of fighting down an alley. Had this been before, she would’ve hid and waited, hoping to sneak in afterwards to see if anything had been left behind. She wasn’t too proud for picking things off a body in the streets. You did what you had to do, to survive.

Peeking around the corner, she saw a gang of thugs, Krogan’s crew by the looks of it, harassing a lone man. She almost tripped and fell when the man shouted a strange word, and fire struck the closest assailant. That was more than the thugs were prepared to deal with, and they were running away with their screaming, charred friend held between them.

The light from the opposite street allowed her to make out some of the features of the strange magician. His long black hair had fallen over his face, but the tips of the ears told her everything she needed to know. It was like an elven prince out of the stories.

Oleander sat with her chin on the heels of both her hands, elbows rested on her knees. She looked utterly bored. To her left, Stann just smiled and continued cleaning his boots. She sighed, and blew some hair out of her face.

”You should be thankful, Red. Not every group manages to land this many magicians, you know. We’re pretty lucky.” Stann gestured, still holding a boot in his hand.

”Lucky? We get to sit here and… and just sit, while they do their magicky preparations for the day. Everyday it’s the same,” she complained.

”You know you could find a productive way to spend the time, if you just looked hard enough.” Stann put the boot down, and started tugging it on his foot.

”Out here? There are no dwarven merchants to pickpocket.” Oleander smiled a little. She was still spending the gold she got from a particularly fat ring that ended up in her hands after browsing a jeweller’s displays.

”I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, you raccoon. Me, I’m happy they’re with us. I can’t count the number of times Rena’s blessings has pulled me back together, or Kel saving the day by knocking a monster flat with a well-aimed chunk of stone.”

”Okay, I’ll give. But sometimes I wish half the bloody group weren’t nose-deep in their magic books or meditations the entire morning.” Oleander worked her neck and shoulders a bit. Rhyce looked up from waxing his spare bowstrings.

”Half?” He asked.

”Yeah, you know — three of them, three of us?” She gestured at the other three, still concentrating on their respective rituals.

”Speak for yourself. I’ve got magic, too,” Rhyce shrugged and went back to work on the strings.

Oleander and Stann looked at each other, and then turned back to Rhyce.

”Wait, what? We’ve been together for more than a year. You’d think we’d notice if you spent your days reading dusty old tomes,” she pointed out while also pointing at him. Oleander was always very animated when she spoke.

”Yeah, I don’t do that. Doesn’t mean I can’t, though. I just don’t like it.” With that, Rhyce returned his finished strings to a pouch in his belt, the conversation apparently over for him.

Stann and Oleander exchanged another long look, and huddled down together.

”I think he can use enthralling spellsongs. He’s too embarrassed to do so, though.” Stann glanced over at their friend.

”Oh, good one! I was going to guess wind magics, to make his cloak billow dramatically whenever he feels the urge to pose,” Oleander grinned.

They continued their speculations, trying to top the other in absurdities, as they waited for their friends to finish their rituals. Meanwhile, Rhyce just listened with a hidden half-smile. He turned his head slightly towards the crow sitting on the lowest branch by the nearest tree.

”Let them keep guessing,” he murmured. ”They’re having too much fun.” The crow turned its head slightly, and flapped its wings.

Eventually, the more magically inclined finished their devotions to their respective sources. Kellen carefully returned his collection of runestones to his many belt-pouches. He spread them in a pattern around himself as part of his morning ritual of invoking his magic power. Every day he placed them differently. After all, even if the letters are constant the words change meaning over time, and his ritual reflected that. Mirena had spent her time in prayer, as a priest of Telum, asking the god of war and justice to bless them this day. Jaden reconnected with his pact-bound creatures, feeding them with his magic across that intangible divide in return for their services. They were prepared to face the day, and whatever it might hold.

“Catch.”

Jaden barely brought his hands up in time. He looked at a ration of dried meat and fruits, and remembered that it was Rhyce’s time to prepare breakfast. He couldn’t wait until it became Stann’s or Mirena’s turn again. You knew you’d get to eat something warm and hearty with either of them tending the fire.

“Really, Rhyce, again?” Oleander complained as she gnawed on her own breakfast. “This is twice in a row. Make an effort, already!”

“You’re not really in a position to speak, Red,” Stann laughed. He didn’t mind trail food as much as the rest.

“I like jerky,” the archer explained in his laconic fashion. “You cook, you decide. Today was my turn.”

“I will! You’d better prepare your stomach, because I am going to amaze you next time!” Oleander declared.

”Actually, that would be me,” Jaden spoke up, waving a finger in the air. “I stole your next time, remember?”

“Ancestors be praised,” Kellen chuckled over a mouthful of the dried food.

“Don’t you have regular cooking today, too?” Stann asked as he swallowed the last scraps of his breakfast.

“I don’t mind. I enjoy it. If we had some fish, I would make that Etrian dish you lot like, but I’ll think of something appropriate by lunchtime,” Jaden smiled as he spoke. He actually did enjoy cooking. It was one of those things that his changes hadn’t made harder, instead almost the opposite. He could taste things so much clearly, lately. A single bite told him almost the entire recipe of anything he ate, which was why eating Oleander’s food was so terrifying.

“Alas, this deep into the forest any chances of that are gone. Too bad we didn’t think of that while we rode along the coast.” Stann looked sad. He really liked that lemon-basted grilled carp Jaden had made for them while they stayed in Etrana, the Etrian capital.

“I’m sure we’ll find something, don’t worry,” Jaden patted the mourning warrior on the arm, and then turned to roll his bedding up. If they kept a good pace, they would reach the village by late afternoon.

The trees formed a corridor of whispering leaves as they travelled through the Ealbourne Woods that separated the village of Redwall from the rest of the country. It was mostly beech and birch, making a green canopy where they could see far into the forest. A few evergreens showed up here and there, and would become much more common if they went up further north. If you crossed the border into the Northern Lands, the pines and firs would be uncontested.

They passed a couple of timber wagons pulled by several workhorses on their way deeper into Ealbourne. The wood was the primary livelihood of the village, so there were several transports each week leaving Redwall for the coastal road to either the capital in the north, or Tier to the south. The drivers tipped their hats in a friendly fashion, when the group nudged their horses to the side of the road to let the wagons pass more easily. One of the workers rode on top of the stacked pile of logs, playing a flute as the heavy wheels rumbled along the forest road. The tune was slightly familiar to Jaden, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Rhyce had been right about one thing, though. They had travelled most of the day, and they had yet to see many animals. It was somewhat eerie, riding through the forest without many of those sounds you took for granted. Something was missing from the song of the world. Even so, there was still something there. Every mile closer to Redwall brought a feeling upon Jaden. It was faint, so subtle he didn’t notice it at first, but he felt… welcomed.

When the sun had climbed to the peak of the sky, the light streamed down in an almost mesmerising fashion through the green ceiling of the forest. It also told them it was time to settle down for lunch and a rest. Luckily, being a well trafficked road, there were plenty of campsites along the way.

“So, what are you making for us, little brother?” Stann peeked over Jaden’s shoulder as the black-haired Mystic knelt down and began to unpack the pots and pans the group shared.

“Well, without fish or fresh meat, I thought we’d have pancakes. With the fresh fruits we picked up at the Rosehaven market, it should be a nice summer meal,” Jaden said while chasing away a fly from sitting on his pointed ear.

“Breakfast for lunch? What manner of foul sorcery is this?” Kellen called out from his seat. He was joking, of course, but someone who didn’t know him would probably expect an axe to their throat by the tone the rune seeker used.

“The most delicious kind, of course!” Oleander bumped the huge Northman’s arm with a fist. She would probably have to tiptoe to reach his head.

“Though, speaking of fish,” Kellen continued, ignoring the small redhead. “Did I ever tell you about the time when I hooked this enormous silver pike at Breakstone Lake near Agerhon?”

A storyteller at heart, with as many fishing tales as there were hairs to his beard, he began to spin the great adventure of his trials against this crafty old pike. Jaden tried to tune it out as best as he could while mixing the ingredients together. Working with his hands left him with his thoughts, though, but he didn’t mind it as much this time. Cooking was strangely calming for him. His magic was all destructive in different ways, fire or weakening, or even more fire. This was his way of creating something for a change. It made his friends happy, and that in turn made him feel good.

While the men stood by the fire, Oleander plopped down next to the brunette knight. Mirena had her hair unbound, as she often did when not wearing her steel. The braid was as much a part of her armour as the shield or breastplate.

"Say, Rena? Do you think I would look nice with long hair?" The redhead ran a couple of fingers through her pixie cut hair, kept short because of her lifestyle. Her eyes didn’t leave the young man by the cooking fire.

"Don't you always say it'd get into your eyes when you jump around? I mean, you’re usually more… mobile than me, when there is trouble." Mirena stopped combing her hair for a moment, looking at her friend.

"Well, I could just braid it like you do, right?" Oleander imagined a long red tail flying behind her when she vaulted a faceless opponent. It could look good, she guessed.

"Of course. What brought this idea on, though? I've never heard you talking about growing your hair out before?" Mirena resumed her combing, since they were talking about hair anyway.

Oleander looked a little pensive, and glanced to the side where the others were busying themselves around the fire. Kellen was talking loudly about some fish, and had captured the men's attention.

"No reason. Just entertaining the idea about a change, that's all."

Mirena followed Oleander's sidelong glance, and kept her face smooth when she saw the boys holding their hands out at ever bigger distances. Jaden appeared to be rolling his eyes and tried to shoo them away from crowding him as he worked on their food. There was a small stack of pancakes grew as the Mystic flipped another one from the skillet with a wooden spatula. He looked quite natural doing it.

"Change can be good, as long as it is for the right reason." She looked back at Oleander meaningfully.

"What do you mean by that?" The other woman looked a little guarded, letting her hand drop from her hair.

Mirena opened her mouth to calm her friend's worries, when Kellen raised his voice.

"That can't be true. A leviathan like that would snap an ordinary fishing line, or rip a net!" The rune seeker sounded incredulous, and a little accusatory. He took his fishing a little more seriously than he should.

"I fish with the spear." Rhyce calmly explained, and pointed at the bracelet at his wrist. "I made this from its teeth."

"Those are some pretty big teeth for coming from a fish" Stann sounded impressed.

Kellen inspected the bracelet with an increasingly dark expression, then turned to the pot of batter and stirred with more strength than was necessary. Jaden tried to ask him to stop, but the Northman would have none of it.

"We'd better join the others. Our lunch appears to be ready soon." Mirena rose to her feet, and smoothened out the folds of her travelling clothes.

They had seen the shapes of houses between the trees for the last mile or so, as they got ever closer to the village. Many of the trees looked older, though, which was a little strange. Wouldn’t the woodsmen cut the largest and closest trees first? The sun had begun to dip down from its seat at the throne of the sky for a while now, but it would be hours yet before the horizon claimed it, and they would have long since arrived at Redwall.

“Why do they call it that, Kellen? You’re the historian here,” Jaden looked over at the fellow magician.

“As with many things Albander, us Northmen are to blame for it,” Kellen started to explain. “During the third war, before imperial occupation, our warriors had fought their way down to about this area. This was before the north border keeps were built, of course. The village here, named Ealbourne at the time, became an important strategic outpost for the Alband army. They used the forest paths to quickly move their forces around the North’s warriors. It was quite clever, until Brinal Nighthammer, the Shaman advisor to our war chieftain, divined the location of the village.”

Kellen gestured with his large hands across the forest.

“We’re riding across a battlefield. The warriors of the North clashed with the army of Alband right here. Neither had expected such a large force from the other side, Alband moving one of their main bodies at the same time our war chieftain sent a large portion of our invasion group here. The fighting went on for days, but the Albander had the advantage of knowing the land, and with our Shamans too far from our home soil we lost. It’s called Redwall, because the walls ran red.”

Oleander looked around and shuddered, imagining the fighting and screaming to still echo between the trees. This forest was a great graveyard as well.

“It’s an honorific. Alband was proud of its victory here. This village turned the tide of the war, becoming a symbol for the wall it had become against the red warriors from the North,” Mirena was a military historian too, but she had of course heard another version of the event. “The myth about blood-stained walls was probably just an exaggeration to turn a prolonged skirmish into a legendary battle.”

“Still, the village changed its name?” Jaden asked, as they approached the last stretch of the road as it led up to their destination.

“Probably just because ‘Ealbourne’ sounds a lot like ‘Alband’, and the king didn’t want the confusion when the country regained its sovereignty after the empire retreated back south,” Mirena didn’t quite share as romantic a view of history as the cousins. “It’s a relatively recent change.”

“I don’t know… I think I like Kellen’s version more,” Oleander decided, and popped another raisin into her mouth.

“You can’t just pick your history, Ollie. There’s what really happened, and there’s myth,” Jaden pointed out.

“Yeah? Then, please, tell me what really happened?” The redhead fluttered her eyelashes at the Mystic.

“Uh… I don’t… Dragons did it, okay?” He really didn’t know. While he had been taught some of the history of the countries, as was any child receiving tutelage these days, he was more interested in the current state of affairs than anything that was long since gone or half-forgotten.

“That sounds even better!” Oleander agreed.

The village of Redwall, no matter how it came by its name, appeared fully out of the forest as the trees gave way into a clear area. Many of the solidly built wooden houses stood only a single floor tall, and several roofs were thatched, but they could see signs of more than one house replacing its old roof with new tiles. As they rode along the main street, Jaden noticed a couple of men in the process of building a new section to one of the houses. One of them stopped to wipe his brow, and waved as the newcomers passed his home. The village seemed to be doing rather well, by the looks of it.

But there was something in the very air. Jaden couldn’t quite place it; an aroma, maybe, or a fleeting sensation. It made him remember places he had never been to before, somewhere there was a river in the sky and the stars sang. It called to him, and he could feel something inside respond.

“Let’s find the Prelate’s brother first, shall we?” Mirena dismounted with practiced ease, and led her horse up to a man pushing a wheelbarrow’s worth of tiles toward the house they had passed earlier. While she exchanged words with the locals, the rest of the group sat down from their own horses one by one. Jaden was especially happy to be out of the saddle. It wasn’t as comfortable on his behind lately, and he didn’t want to think of why.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Rhyce gave Jaden a sideways look.

“I’m not sure what I feel, honestly,” the Mystic replied truthfully. He made an effort to silence the strange call, and it drew back into a muted whisper. Jaden hoped that he was sensitive, and not insane. Some days it was hard to tell. “There’s something though.”

“What are you two muttering about? “ Oleander wondered, stretching her back from having slouched in the saddle for most of the day. She had the posture of a lazy cat, sometimes.

“Beards, Ollie. We’re talking about beards and other manly things,” Jaden passed back, for no other reason that his wry amusement. It had been a while since they had bickered about something, after all. In fact, the redhead had been remarkably nice to him for the last day or so, and that worried him.

“What? Fine, okay. Don’t tell me,” she turned around and stared at the village instead.

When Jaden turned back, he noticed the how the archer was looking at his face a little too intently. A pair of crows sitting on a nearby roof fluttered their wings.

"Do I have something on my face?" Jaden reached for a handkerchief to brush off whatever smudge must've found its way there. Riding during the summer was always a dusty proposition, but in rainy Alband dust turned to mud.

"When was the last time you shaved?" Rhyce asked, his eyes inspecting the smooth face of his friend.

"Yesterday?" The Mystic lied. "Why, did I miss a spot?"

"No, you look very clean. Maybe I’ll ask you to be my barber sometime.” With that, the archer joined the other men closer to the village square.

“What was that all about?” Jaden mused, as he followed along.

Mirena had returned by then, with directions on how to find the relatives of the Kuros priest. Apparently, they lived just off the main street in a small, but comfortable house. The brother of the Prelate had not shared Matrick’s strong faith and worked in the village as a tutor to the children. There were even plans to devote a separate building as a school, instead of just having them stay in whatever home was available during the day.

They found the house easy enough, Redwall not being a particularly large village, and Stann strode up to knock on the door. They could hear the sound of several young voices talking inside, and before the Northman’s fist reached the door it opened to let out a number of children of every age between five and ten. They bunched up in the doorway and stared at the warrior towering above them, who was clad in his chain mail ever since setting foot in the forest.

“Uh… hi?” Stann said, and glanced at his friends for help. The youngest girl looked like she was about to start crying.

“Hey, who want sweets and a story?” Oleander clapped her hands together, stealing the attention away from him. The response was predictably loud.

“So, my brother sent you here?” Samul asked, as he poured the tea for his guests. It was about the only thing his wife trusted him to prepare in the kitchen, but since she wasn’t due back home from her work as the tavern’s cook until sundown, he had to make do.

“Yes. We have worked with him previously, and when he asked us to look into matters here, we could hardly refuse him,” Mirena said, and mouthed a thank you as she took her cup.

“Or accept any compensation,” Kellen mumbled into his own tea, unheard by most, and then raised his voice. “I must say, there seems to be quite a lot of activity going on in the village?”

“Oh yes. Ever since the new baron took this land some five years ago, they’ve been spending very generously to improve life around here. That went a long way to garner the goodwill of the people of Redwall, let me tell you,” Samul nodded a few times.

“I heard talk about a proper school, too. Was that the baron’s initiative as well?” Mirena asked, making smalltalk.

“Ah, well… that’s a yes and no case. I had brought up the idea to the old baron, but that old codger was more interested in spending his time anywhere else than here. After Baron Tassard took over some of the people here began to ask for things, like repairing the road to make the wagons run safer, or helping out with equipment to dig new wells.” Samul sat down after handing out the final cup to Jaden. “And, well, the baron agreed to all of it. Said that to make Redwall into a prosperous community, he would have to spend a little out of his own coffers. He wasn’t wrong.”

“All the things we saw around here are out of the baron’s own purse?” Mirena sounded surprised. That was not how she was used to nobles acting.

“Oh, no. The baron focused mainly on making sure the logging business got what it needed. It all sort of sprung from there. More timber and quicker deliveries meant more money to the village, and to each working family. People could suddenly afford things.” The teacher finally sat down. “But the baron has been part of several other local projects as well. Which is how word about the school eventually reached him, and he claimed it was a marvellous idea to ensure the future success of Redwall.”

“That sounds… like a very generous man,” Mirena still couldn’t keep all the doubt out of her voice. “But, please tell me of what your brother said when he visited you a while back.”

“Mat was always the more, ah, spiritual of the two of us. Unsurprising, since he eventually went and became a priest of the Five Temples. I suppose the village has changed a bit. Things have gone, uhm, almost a little too well. But a few months ago, some people started to complain about headaches, bad dreams, things like that. It has mostly passed now, of course, but it was a strange thing when it happened.”

“Mostly passed?” Kellen observed, looking a little strange sitting in a chair made for a smaller person. The living room had a number of mismatched chairs, where the children sat during class earlier.

“There were one or two who persisted. Old Nias simply ran into the woods one night, trying to… I don’t know, get away from his own dreams. We never saw him again. He was always a little, let’s say, troubled — but we will miss him, still,” Samul hurriedly added.

“And the other?” Mirena listened intently.

“Lyrissa? She’s a magician. Well, almost. We don’t talk about it, but she failed her apprenticeship to a Sorcerer in Farcrest. That was before I moved here nine or so years ago, but to this day she’s still rather… she doesn’t go out much,” Samul made a helpless gesture with a hand.

“Can we speak with her? It might be important,” Kellen asked, and looked at the rest of his friends. Magicians, failed or not, were more sensitive to the world than other people.

“That’s for her to decide. I can take you to her cottage once Romi gets home; I don’t want to leave the girls by themselves.” He looked out through the window, where Oleander sat on the lawn with his entire class, including his own children. She held them spellbound with some sort of adventure, waving her arms around as she talked. Was that explosions she was pantomiming?

“Thank you. Kellen and I will accompany you. No need to scare the poor woman with our entire entourage,” Mirena decided. “The rest of you? Group up and see what you can find out before nightfall.”

“What do you say, little brother? Shall we unearth the secrets of Redwall together?” Stann leaned forward to slap Jaden on his back, but the Mystic scooted out of the way. Stann remained stretched out for an awkward moment, before turning it into standing up. He looked a little hurt, though.

“Sure. We can swing by the inn, or tavern… uh, Cup-something?” Jaden tried to remember. He had been a little distracted at the time. He still was, to be honest. “We might as well sort out our sleeping arrangements while we’re snooping around anyway.”

The door opened, allowing an older teenager inside. He had the tanned skin of someone who worked outside during the day, and his brown hair had grown paler by the sun.

“Da? I saw a stranger outside,” the youth checked into the living room and stopped when he saw a whole group of other people.

“Oh, good timing Emmet! Let me introduce you to some people,” Samul gestured at the others. “This is my son, Emmet. He can help show some of you around if you want. Emmet, this is Mirena, a knight of the Temple, Stann and Kellen from the North, Rhyce of… uh… the hunter, and Jaden the elf.”

“I’m not a-“

“Pleased to meet you, Emmet. I’m sure your help will prove invaluable. Would you please show Stann and Jaden here around?” Mirena stepped forward to take the blushing teenager’s hand.

“Well, that’s decided, then.” Stann grabbed Samul’s son by the shoulder with his arm, and steered them out the door. “Tell me, have you ever had any elven maids at your inn, here?”

“I’ll… keep him on track, Rena. You go see what you can get out of that hermit woman.” Jaden hurried after the warrior and his new captive audience. Hopefully they’d get something done before nightfall.

Rhyce didn’t look out of the window. Children just reminded him of what he had lost. By now, Oleander’s story had reached its end, and the parents who had come here wondering why their sons and daughters were still not home from their daily class could finally pry the small ones away from the Olman redhead.

When the teacher left, leading Mirena and Kellen to see the reclusive, failed magician, Rhyce stepped out as well. The sun was noticeably lower now, but they still had plenty of time before the evening would catch up with them.

“You and me, eh?” Oleander looked up from her spot on the lawn where she had been waiting for him. “Team sneaky skulks again!”

“I thought you and Jay was the sneaky team?” Rhyce asked, looking around the outskirts of the village. The crows were circling the currents of the wind high above, but dark clouds had grouped at the edge of the forest

“He complains too much. I bet that if it had been you down in that cult cellar with me, you would’ve told me not to grab the skull,” she joked. A flash of the dreams came back suddenly, but faded with a shake of her head.

“I would’ve told you to use a bag.” Rhyce offered her a hand up, and together they left to see what they could find out.

The oldest son of the village’s teacher led Stann and Jaden on a stroll through the few streets. He told them that all in all, there were probably just around five hundred people living here, with most attached to the timber trade in some way.

“It was much worse before the new baron got here. Redwall was pretty poor. Sure, they sold their timber to the surrounding towns, but Baron Tassard has business contacts in the capital and even in other countries. I hear some of the wood we cut here end up as far as Marsantias, or even Gion. That’s made a huge change for everyone here.” Emmet ducked under a low branch on a fruit tree growing near a house. Many of the homes here had their own little gardens, since there was no plot of land cleared for farming here in the deep forest.

“This baron of yours sure made a lot of changes. It’s only been - what did your dad say, five years?” Stann waited for Jaden to follow first, but stopped to rub his eyes. He thought he had seen that branch pass right through Jaden’s hat. He must be tired from their long ride.

“Yeah, he’s been busy. Dad and I had only been here for a couple of years when the Tassards picked up the barony, and it’s mostly been good things ever since,” Emmet waited for the guests to catch up as they took a shortcut behind some houses. He was leading them back to the tavern now. Showing them the village hadn’t taken very long, since it wasn’t very big.

“What about that thing with the nightmares a while back?” Jaden tried to gauge the young man’s reaction when he asked that.

“That was pretty scary. It had been… I don’t know, building? Like a storm brewing out to the sea? Then suddenly one night, a lot of people had these horrible dreams. My little sisters cried all night. It went on like that for almost a week, before people began to feel better.” Emmet’s eyes still remembered that night. It would stay with him forever.

“But not all, right?” Jaden pushed.

“Nah, there were still a couple who just didn’t come out right after that. Old Jitters… I mean, old man Nias, he just upped and left one night.”

“Did anyone see him leave?” Stann asked, now walking side by side with the other two as they got out on the street next to the tavern.

“Eh? Surely someone did, right? But I always heard it from someone else, who knew a person who had seen him run off into the woods.” Emmet shrugged. There was no other explanation than that, to him. He held open the door to the Woodsman’s Cup, a squat building that served many purposes in the small village.

“You’re probably right. Now, let’s see if your proprietor here can house the lot of us tonight,” Jaden said and waved at the woman in apron lecturing a greying villager about not grabbing her serving maids.

“Beryl? You’ve got guests!” Emmet shouted to the middle-aged woman, who looked up from berating her patron. It was a bit noisy in the tavern this time of the day when all the workers were back from the logging camp. The talk died down as Stann and Jaden entered, though, causing Emmet’s voice to be louder than intended. The youth looked a little red in the face, but to his credit made the introductions with more grace than most would have.

“We’ll see about getting all of you a bed, don’t you worry boys,” the keeper, Beryl, said with grandmotherly affection, and sent one of her girls to get fresh linens. While they didn’t get many visitors to Redwall, their tavern still kept a couple of rooms for guests.

“Tell me more about the baron, Emmet,” Jaden said as they sat down at the only empty table left, closest to the door.

“Don’t know what else there is to say. He brought his wife and two children here with him. Younger boy, about ten I guess. I don’t see him very often. He’s pretty shy and keeps to their manor. Then there’s Callandra…” Emmet grew a bit dreamy-eyed.

“Let me guess: she’s around your age?” Stann asked with a grin.

The boy was about to answer, when the door opened again. Turning around and expecting to see some of their friends, Stann and Jaden instead met a well-dressed man in house colours. He looked cleaner than any of the men in the tavern, and carried a carefully folded letter in a gloved hand.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Are you associated with the recently arrived party?” He spoke with the clipped accent of someone who grew up in the court of nobles. He spoke like he didn’t have any feelings either way about the matter.

“Who’s asking?” Stann demanded brusquely.

“Stann, please, this is clearly an envoy of the baron’s,” Jaden tried to smooth things over. “Yes, we’re they. Can I take your message?”

“Certainly, sir. I will await your response.” With that, the servant handed the letter to the Mystic, and then stepped back a discreet distance to let them read it in peace.

“What does it say?” Stann asked after a little while.

“The baron asks us to join him for supper. Looks like we’ve been extended an official invitation,” Jaden waved the letter a little. Mirena was probably dying for an excuse to dress up. He turned to the servant, who immediately stepped forward. For a moment, something passed across the boundary of his awareness. “Please tell the baron that we graciously accept, and will be there as soon as we’re presentable.”

“Very good, sir,” the servant bowed correctly, and then left as suddenly as he had arrived. Jaden couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something about that man. But what he couldn’t avoid, he could ignore. Nothing good ever came from listening to his instincts.

The door closed in Kellen’s face as soon as they had left the cottage slightly outside the rest of the village. The talk with the failed apprentice Lyrissa had been short, but strained. When the reclusive woman learned that both her visitors aside from Samul were magicians she withdrew even further, as if their presence had reopened old wounds. She only answered their questions with terse, bitter comments, making even the compassionate and patient Mirena eager to leave. They were clearly neither wanted, nor welcome.

“I apologise for her behaviour. I know she’s had a rough life, but she was downright rude with you two,” the teacher said as they took the short path back into the village proper.

“That’s quite alright. She wasn’t angry with us in particular, rather with all magicians, whatever tradition they may follow.” Kellen had heard of masters sending their pupils away before their training was complete, for various reasons. He could only imagine what that would do to a person. The broken woman had his deepest sympathies.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Samul? Your son Emmet is much older than your two girls who were in your class earlier,” Mirena couldn’t help but ask.

“Ah, yes. Emmet’s my son from my previous marriage. We lost his mother to the white fever when he was young. I eventually met Romi at a market day in Rosehaven, and, well, one thing led to another. She has been nothing but accepting of Em, and considers him as much her child as the girls. I thought he’d take moving to a remote village like Redwall hard, but he’s been doing well, I think.”

“You have my condolences on your loss, Samul,” Mirena looked sad. The fever had claimed many people ten years ago, even one or two of her own relatives.

“Emmet is old enough to apprentice to someone, isn’t he?” Kellen wondered aloud. The boy had to be fifteen or sixteen.

“Time sure runs quickly,” Samul laughed. “Yes. During the great harvest market in Rosehaven, there will be plenty of opportunity for him to meet with different craftsmen and see where he belongs. He’s even been thinking about joining the Temple with his uncle.”

“Is he a potential magician?” The rune seeker hadn’t even considered that.

“No. Well, at least we don’t think so. But the temple can always use people who are willing to work hard,” Samul glanced at Mirena as if seeking confirmation.

“The Five Temples don’t turn faithful away. If his future lies with gods, they will accept him with open arms,” the knight reassured the worried father. “Changing the subject, is the baron of the Farcrest Tassards, or the Oakborough Tassards?”

“I have to admit I don’t know, milady. All I’ve heard is that they garnered the favour of King Ambermane somehow, and was awarded this barony. Does it matter?” Samul wondered. While a teacher, there were many things he didn’t know. Politics was one of those things.

“Perhaps. I met with the Oakborough Tassards at an event in Tier many years ago. They were quite full of themselves, and avoided talking with my father since he was just a ‘lowly merchant’.” Mirena grimaced a little. She had mixed experiences with nobles.

“That doesn’t sound like Baron Tassard at all. He has always been very close to the people, not to mention his many contacts in the logging businesses around the world.”

They talked more as they made their way to the Woodsman’s Cup, hoping that the tavern would be able to provide them with food and room for the night. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, which was not out of the ordinary in Alband during the summer. Dark clouds had blown in from the ocean, promising an evening of wind and rain.

Mirena lingered at the threshold to the tavern for a moment, letting her eyes rise above the rooftops. It had there ever since they stepped into the village. She couldn’t put a good word to it: a gap, or a divide. When she looked up, she could see no heaven in that sky.

Oleander had emptied her pack on the bed, and stood looking at the mess. Clothes, knives, and useful things were in a disorganised heap. This was her kind of order.

“Oh, is that my old lucky marble? I thought I had lost it when we had to abandon our camp back at the Khuul barrows.” The redhead remembered their frantic scrambling to get away when the tomb children had awoken.

“Oh dear. Oleander, really, you need to lay out your clothes to avoid all these wrinkles,” Mirena chided the other woman. It was bad enough that Oleander barely had anything appropriate for an upper class supper like the one they would attend shortly, but many of her garments were just rolled up and shoved into her bags. “Maybe we can ask the keeper if we can borrow an iron for a little while.”

“Can’t you just make your sword glow like usual, and we can use it instead?” The shorter woman held up a nice tunic, and brushed some lint off it. She liked this one. She had worn it a few times during slow days between their expeditions. Also, Jay had mentioned once how it looked good on her.

“We do not use the symbol of Telum, the Sword of Heaven, to iron our clothes, Oleander,” Mirena explained patiently, and held up one of her spare skirts. She only used these while travelling, since gowns was a little too restrictive on the road, but it was leagues better than the leggings and tights Oleander had. That women didn’t seem to own a single feminine garb. “If we roll up the waist on this, it should work wonderfully. Put that tunic away, and see if we can do something about the jasmine blouse at the bottom there.”

“Mi-re-naaa,” Oleander groaned. “I don’t like skirts. And, what are you talking about? I don’t have any flower-blouses.”

“The yellow shirt, dear. The one right below that shoe. Is that the only shoe? I don’t see the second,” Mirena stepped over to the other bed and carefully poked the pile with a finger.

“Hmm. I think I used the other shoe to knock out a lantern back in Carrick Field,” she held up the suggested shirt, or blouse apparently. It looked clean enough.

“Then why won’t you get rid of this one? There’s no sense in carrying around a single shoe, Oleander?” The knight started to look a little exasperated, and shook the skirt at her friend, prompting her to put it on.

“Maybe we need to knock out another lantern with a well-aimed shoe-toss?” It seemed reasonable in the redheads mind.

The knock on the door prevented Mirena from replying with words she would probably regret a little bit. The men were probably already finished with their preparations, and were waiting for them.

“Are you about done in there?” Stann’s voice carried through the thin door. “There’s a carriage waiting for us outside, and the driver’s starting to look a little thin-lipped.”

“We’ll be done in a moment, Stann. We’re just about done.” Mirena looked down at herself, still only dressed in shift and petticoat. Her favourite nightbloom blue gown was laid out on her bed.

Oleander reluctantly stepped into the borrowed skirt and did up her blouse. She supposed a middleclass woman would wear a corset with this, but she had never been endowed enough to miss not having one. Also, corsets made it too hard to bend over enough to backflip properly.

“I look ridiculous,” the redhead concluded, looking at the almost-dressed knight with her sad, grey eyes.

“Wow, Ollie! You look great!” Jaden definitely looked surprised when the two women finally showed up. Mirena looked every bit the daughter of a wealthy merchant house as usual, fit for any nobility, but since meeting Oleander over a year ago, he had only seen her in skirts a handful of times. Jaden, of course, had simply changed the mirage surrounding him into finer apparel.

“Really?” The Olman woman looked a bit less tense, even a little happy, and a hand went up to touch her pixie-like hair.

“Enough of that, now,” Kellen interjected, straightening his own finery. He had grumbled a bit, but unearthed the ceremonial robe of a rune seeker. He liked those as much as Oleander liked skirts, but he was more willing to comply with formality when it was required. “Where is Rhyce, by the way?”

When the archer and the redhead had returned from their own spying, they had confirmed what the others had learned. Also, none of those they had talked with had actually seen old Nias run away. Some had heard his scream, though. He had just disappeared one night a month ago.

“Oh, you know him. He doesn’t like these sorts of things. He said he would snoop around a little more while we were wined and dined at the local lord’s,” Stann said, shrugging a little. He was wearing his usual clothes, but had replaced his sword with a heavy dagger instead. That was as much dressing up as he was prepared to do.

“Wait, I didn’t know this fancy event was optional?” Oleander exclaimed, forgetting how pleased Jay’s reaction made her.

“It’s not. Rhyce just didn’t want to. You know how it is.” Jaden couldn’t help but turn her own words back at her, even after all this time. She looked adorable sticking her tongue out while dressed like a girl for once.

“Well, let’s not keep our host waiting, shall we?” Kellen led the way out of the tavern.

The driver had patiently waited for them, and now held the door to the carriage while they entered it in order. It was a coach with a full roof, and large enough to seat six people comfortably. Stann and Kellen took one bench, with very little room to spare. Jaden and the women sat opposite, with the Mystic trying to squeeze up against the side as much as he could to avoid any contact. He was only an unfortunate bump away from discovery, after all. Holding his arms together like that made his chest bulge more than he expected, though, but the illusion would cover him.

Jaden mentally reviewed his resources at the moment. After half a week of quiet time, both of his pacts were more than paid back and were even growing fat on the excess magic. His own magic strength had grown slightly over the last couple of years, as was common with any magician. It was like a warrior building muscle through training with their swords, or a dancer growing ever limber through their practice. He imagined he would be able to sustain another contract, maybe two, if he had the opportunity to find an appropriate creature. Thinking back on the painful night after their fight against the Sons of Husk nethermancer, he was really interested in something that would grant him a defensive power. Jaden began to understand his father’s words better now. Attacking alone wasn’t enough, if you couldn’t defend yourself. A sword was weak without its shield.

Garda’s fires, he thought. At this point he’d take a shellcat if that was all he could get.

“Jaden? Are you coming?” Mirena asked from outside the carriage. They had arrived while he was lost in his thoughts.

“Of course! Sorry, Rena. I was a little preoccupied.” He looked up as he exited the carriage, letting his eyes roam across the huge manor. He could see where all the coin had gone, during the previous baron’s rule. While mostly wood, there entire first floor had stone walls, and the sprawling building has two excessive wings in a horseshoe shape from the main section. It looked incredibly gaudy and out of place near a rustic village such as Redwall. The sky looked darker than before, and the wind had picked up. There would be rain soon, he could tell.

“Now this is a house!” Oleander put her hands on her hips and nodded. They must be really rich, living in a place like this. Lots of unattended shinies, she thought.

“If it pleases the party to follow me,” the manservant who waited for them by the large double doors gestured inside the manor. Once everyone had exited the carriage, it drove around to the two wagon-houses behind one of the wings.

“It pleases me indeed!” She whispered to Kellen, who was closest.

“Shush, little fox. Try not to cause any trouble tonight,” the large Northman replied in a soft, rumbling voice.

Jaden walked behind the rest. He wasn’t taken aback by the comparatively opulent manor, nothing would challenge the splendour of Talraman in his heart after all, but that strange sensation had returned. The beckoning.

The manservant ushered them through the welcoming hall, and to the right. They passed several rooms that seemed dedicated to music or different arts, showing that the Tassards had more rooms than they knew what to do with. Decorations were at times sparse, but befitting of a nobleman’s manor.

“Here we are, sirs and madams,” their escort gestured at a long dinner table set in the middle of a large hall intended to impress visitors. Paintings lined the walls, as well as rich tapestries and other works of art. “Baron Ariken Tassard, lord of Redwall and the Ealbourne Forest.”

The baron wore a large, easy smile that put small wrinkles near his eyes. He was closer to Jaden’s former height, and kept his brown hair short enough to draw attention away from a reclining hairline. He wore a rather understated green velvet jacket with his outfit, perhaps as to make his wife seem more beautiful by contrast.

“Welcome, welcome!” The baron extended his arms in greeting. “Once I heard that we had visitors in our part of the woods, I knew I had to offer the finest hospitality of Redwall. Please, let me introduce my wife, Juliss, and our daughter Callandra, and my son Kalen.”

The baroness must’ve been an absolutely stunning woman in her youth, and that had only grown into a mature beauty that her daughter had clearly inherited. Both Juliss and Callandra had lighter hair, almost blonde, done up in an elaborate fashion that would’ve been the envy of the royal court. Kalen sat in his chair and stared at his empty plate, without acknowledging the guests. He had more of his father’s looks, from what they could tell.

Mirena gave a knightly bow to each member, prompting the Northmen to nod a little in recognition. Oleander had no experience with courtly etiquette, but did a good job at a curtsy after catching Mirena’s eye. Jaden didn’t know what to do, since Lacunai culture assumed a hierarchy based on spiritual and magical power and he was sure he outranked the Tassards in that respect. He settled for a slight bow, too, arms crossed over his chest. He regretted that almost immediately as he felt the softness shift against the hidden silk.

“I am Mirena Kaladon, paladin of Telum,” she introduced herself, causing the baron to exchange a look with his wife.

“Kaladon, you say? I believe we may have had business with a Marius Kaladon of Tier in the past. Are you related?” The baron asked with obvious curiosity.

“My father, my lord,” Mirena hid her displeasure at being associated with the man.

“Interesting. Go on, please,” Baron Tassard gestured at the rest of his guests.

“Stann Winterheart of Strom, this is my cousin Kellen,” the younger cousin spoke for both of them this time.

“Winterheart? As in Olev Winterheart’s clan? My, the company is starting to become rather distinguished, Ariken!” Juliss told her husband, clearly aware of the affairs of other states.

“Indeed it is, my heart.” They looked more pleased, knowing they had proper guests instead of random travellers. “And, who is this young woman?”

“Oleander Lockless of the Radent Lockless, and this is my elven spellguard Jaden,” she said with slight boredom and pointed a finger at her friend, who was starting to turn towards her with annoyance.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” said the baron while exchanging a blank look with his wife. She imperceptibly shook her head. “Also, impressed to meet one of the famed sorcerer bodyguards of Ral Sona. I had the pleasure of meeting some of your blade sisters while visiting the city last summer, on business.”

“Pleasure is all mine,” Jaden said through gritted teeth. Ollie would pay for this.

“Though, I’m sure I heard that the spellguards were all women?” The baron had a puzzled look on his face.

“It’s a recent development,” Jaden lied smoothly, despite wanting to scream a little. Though, if things were going the way they were, it wouldn’t stay a lie for very long.

“Very well, then. With introductions out of the way, let us show you our home while the supper is being prepared. We didn’t know how many to expect, so there will be a slight delay.”

“That’s quite alright, my lord,” Mirena assured the baron, and walked by his side as they were led away from the dining hall to see the various sights of the manor.

As they were shown the library and the receiving room, Baron Tassard talked about how it had been a wonderful opportunity for his family when the king had offered them this land. It had boiled down to politics, of course. The royal court had been divided on a trade agreement with Sorun, with the King desiring to reopen a caravan route to the neighbouring elven country. Many of the military families opposed the proposition on account of how Sorun had declined to help Alband during the last war with the North, but Tassard had managed to gather enough loyalists to swing the issue in favour of the King. It had, of course, caused some tension back in Farcrest, which was just another incentive to accept the grant of land here.

“At least now I’m on even foot with my older brother Robel, being a landowner at last,” the baron laughed.

“These are some beautiful paintings, Baron,” Kellen commented, looking at the family portraits.

“Yes, we had them made by a renowned artist back in Farcrest. As you can see, little Kalen was only a young child there, not yet five years old,” Baroness Juliss said with a smile.

“He looks very energetic there, as if the painter captured him between two jumps. I noticed that your son seemed a little, ah, subdued now?” Kellen continued. The baron’s son had not followed them on their tour, but instead had remained behind in the dining hall with a servant.

“Oh, he’s just a little ill. A cold, I’m sure. It’s not something we’re worried about.” The baron dismissed the issue. “He’ll be back to his normal self soon enough, certainly.”

Jaden looked at the painting of the girl from six years ago. She looked terribly shy, not even holding her head straight up to the painter, but instead fixing her gaze at something on the floor. It was a jarring contrast from the vibrant young woman who had silently accompanied them on their guided tour of the baron’s home. Callandra hadn’t said a word yet, but continued to smile with an intensity that bordered on devotion. Jaden could see why the teacher’s son would be infatuated with the girl. She was beautiful, and blossoming into a woman that would break many hearts.

When they started to return back to the dining hall, a servant approached them and announced in those clipped words that an appetizer had been served.

The long table had been set with wonderful, painted Marsander porcelain plates, and precious tinted Etrian glassware. They had each been provided with a skilfully displayed set of greens and fish, with just a thin circle of a salad sauce tying the dish together.

“In the spirit of Marsantias cuisine, I felt we should use their traditional eating sticks. They’re imported, of course,” the baron said with pride as they sat down, and servants filled their glasses with water or white wine. The table also held porcelain spoons for those who couldn’t master the trick of eating with the foreign tools.

Aside from Mirena, who had eaten the Marsander way before, the guests eventually resorted to the offered spoons one by one. While they were struggling, the baron’s daughter all but fed her brother using the eating sticks with a practiced hand. Surprisingly, Stann managed to eat half his plate with the sticks before giving up. Bullheadedness would only take you so far, after all.

"You are impressed, yes?" Stann turned to the redhead next to him cheerfully.

"Positively Stanned." The rest of the group groaned, though Callandra giggled amicably.

"It's always too early for puns like that, Ollie!" Jaden told her in no uncertain terms.

When the servants stepped forward to remove their plates, Mirena took the opportunity to ask the baron’s leave to go freshen up. Jaden had inadvertently splashed a drop of sauce on her dress when his fingers slipped, and she wanted to dab it off before it stained her favourite gown.

A manservant, possibly the same who had escorted them through the manor the first time, showed up to lead her to the washroom. Ever since entering the manor, she’d had a nagging feeling that something was strange, but she filed it away for later so she could focus on keeping her friends in line. They were brutes, but they were her brutes.

While saving her gown, she looked around the washroom. She missed not having a mirror to see herself better. In fact, when she thought about it, she had not seen a single mirror since coming here, not once during their tour of the manor. That was strange. The tavern keeper, Beryl, said she had received a grand mirror as a gift on her birthday a month ago from the baron. She finished up, and returned to the supper feeling that something was a little off.

The archer’s boots made no sound as he circled the lit windows. He was certain he had found the source of the dissonance in the wind, the wrongness he had felt ever since stepping into the Ealbourne. The breeze was picking up, and the first drops had begun to break free from the dark clouds that covered the setting sun. Another person might have had trouble seeing in the poor light, but Rhyce was not hindered by darkness. The rustling of wings told him his other friends had arrived.

“It’s in here. I’m sure of it,” he spoke to the black eyes peering down from the tree.

He would need to get closer, though. The trees provided cover, but the distance to the house was too far, and too open. He chose to circle the building instead, to approach it from another direction. There were fewer windows facing the deep forest to the north.

He had his bow ready when he carefully made his way along the trees; senses open to every motion and every noise. The world told him that his instincts had been right. A dry twig snapped behind him.

Powerful arms grabbed him, too strong to be normal, and wordlessly trapped his own arms close to his body. He couldn’t even reach his knife. An impassive face, frozen like a doll-like mask stepped in front of him, and the last thing he saw was the back of an axe thud into the side of his head before everything exploded into darkness.

Rhyce didn’t feel a thing as the two figures dragged his body into a shed behind the building. He didn’t feel it when they chained him to the wall, and he didn’t feel it when they snapped the manacles shut.

Several black birds landed on the roof of the shed, and as one they let out a squawking call.