The Lord Son's Travels (7 page)

Chapter 7

The disappearance
of the Lord Son and his guard was noticed the next day around noon.
  
Neither had been expected to
report with their divisions that morning, since both had informed their
assistants that they would be spending the day with royal duties.
 
No one thought to ask at the Capital of
their whereabouts until a confusing message was received by Adrien's second in
command.
 
He was unsure how to
answer, and hoped to get the opinion of his superior.
 
He decided to visit the Capital in person and see if he
could speak with the Lord Son for a few minutes.
 
It wasn't until the afternoon that he had time in his
schedule to pass into the main building and ask the Royal Guards for a minute
of the Lord Son's time.
 
They were
confused, not having seen Adrien enter the Capital that day.
 
Word was passed around the Capital,
until it was determined that he was definitely not in any of his usual
haunts.
 
Someone then thought to call
for his guard, who they then discovered had also not been seen that day.
 
Now the guards were panicked, frantic
at the thought of a possible royal abduction.
 
The members of the ruling house were gathered and told of
the events of the day.
 
Andrüe Lord
King ordered a discreet search of the city, hoping to not alarm anyone,
especially the skittish nobility.
 
By the evening, it was determined that Adrien and Brendan were no longer
in Allè-dènè. No message from any abductor was received, and after searching
their rooms and questioning those they believed to be the last to see the
wayward prince and his companion, it was determined no foul play was
involved.
 

That
night, the royal family and its closest advisors huddled in the private family
parlor, and pondered what they had learned.
 
Andrüe and Adräe shared the details of their talks with the
younger son, and reached the same correct conclusion at the same time.
  
They called for a map of the
Eastlands, and poured over it, hoping to pick the correct path to search for
the runaways.
 
Tarien sat between
them, tight lipped and silent, as they argued over the direction the younger
men would have chosen.
 
They
finally decided on the most likely route, and immediately sent a party of their
most trusted men to find and return the rebels.
 
All involved promised to keep the matter silent, hoping the
rest of the nation would never know of the disappearance and return of the
missing men.
 
Their divisions were
told their leaders were on a mission for the Lord King, and would return when
possible.
 
Andrüe comforted his
worried wife the best he could, while Annäe tried to calm her angry, frustrated
husband.
 
On the surface, the
Capital remained as secure and unperturbed as always, while the best scouts of
the land were sent to find their missing leader, and return him to face his
punishment.

Chapter 8

The missing
adventurers had found the first stage of their traveling very easy.
 
They stayed to the main road and
traveled mostly at night when the few farmers or other travelers they might encounter
were safely inside asleep. They kept a hard pace, but their mounts were sturdy
and fresh and quite up to the challenge.
 
They stopped each morning at a cautious distance from any settlements,
skipping the official clearings provided for travelers and setting up their
camps farther out of view from the road.
 
Their food was fresh and plentiful, and the few clouds that dotted the
sky didn't let lose any messy deluges to slow them down.
 

They
reached the outer boundary of Allè-dôn in a few days; hardly a record, but not
a bad time at all.
 
With a little
hesitation at first, they silently crossed the border from their home into the
distant unfamiliar world of strangers.
 
They marveled to themselves with slight disappointment that nothing in
the kingdom of Arden looked any different from what they had always known.
 
The road didn't change; it still was
well-packed and a good size, with either edge cleared to knee height for a
reassuring distance.
 
The trees
were still the same they knew; the wild animals familiar since their
childhoods.
 
The only things that
had changed were their status and names.
 
They were no longer protected by their royal or noble blood until they
could reach the sanctuary of a strong ally.
 
They spoke one night across the hissing and crackling of
their small campfire.
 
For their
safety, they agreed to use false names if ever in the company of
strangers.
 
Adrien chose the name
Rian, while Brendan decided to call himself Bran.
 
They decided that if a background story was needed, they
would be two Allè-dônian soldiers who had left their service to seek their
fortunes in the world of strangers.
 
Throughout this stage of their
journey, they saw no other people on which to test these new personalities
.
Alone,
they continued as their road followed the low foothills of the north through
the peaceful land of Arden.

Their
journey remained uneventful for the following week.
 
They continued in the habit of traveling at night, though
they had reached a sparsely populated section of the kingdom.
 
The woods were thicker and darker, with
the calls of new and strange creatures echoing in the darkness around
them.
 
They said nothing to each
other about this, but their cooking fires became larger and lingered closer to
sunrise.
 
Each took to sleeping
with their weapon of choice in easy grasp of their hand.
 
Their supply packs were slowly growing
lighter as they started out each day before the fall of dusk.
  
Brendan carried his bow and kept
an eye on the woods while riding, often supplementing dinner with roasted
rabbit.
 
To break the leaden silence
that often befell the travelers, Brendan wracked his brain trying to think of
stories or legends his companion might not have heard too many times
before.
 
Though not a Bard, Brendan
had a gift for embellishing small events into wonderful funny tales he shared in
an effort to amuse his friend.
 
Adrien rarely countered with his own stories, preferring to listen than
to speak.
 
His mind stayed mostly
focused on the road ahead.
 
Often,
to Brendan's bemusement, Adrien would interrupt at the height of his tale to
ask a question involving the political history of Arden or the possibility of
pursuit.
 
Brendan had hoped that
the actions they were taken would reassure Adrien, but instead he was more
deeply apprehensive of their mission.
 
What little sense of good humor he had had was gone, leaving his eyes
hard with heavy imaginings and his voice low and pensive.

At the
end of this first week in this strange land, the men had started off an hour
before sunset for the night's journey.
 
They had set a goal of reaching the river Untaine within two days, where
they hoped to find a village to begin their questioning.
 
As typical Brendan was spinning a
tale.
 
This one involved the
daughters of the Lord of Yuhen, and their plots to find rich husbands.
 
Also as typical, Adrien was ignoring
him, instead peering into the woods hoping for a sign of game.
 
He caught a glimpse of a flash of white
half hidden in the weeds on the south side of the road.
 
He pulled up his reigns, surprising his
mount into a sudden full stop.
 
Brendan paused in his story, his eyes following his friend's to the
patch of ivory in the distance.
 
They urged their horses to the edge of the dusty road.
 
The patch didn't move.
 
Adrien climbed down slowly and silently
from his seat, fighting hand poised at his side ready to arm itself.
 
Brendan started to dismount but Adrien
motioned violently for him to remain behind on guard.
 
Adrien crept closer, his eyes darting from side to side
watching for any movement in the woods.
 
Brigands were getting smarter these days, he knew from his time on
scout.
 
They would set up tricks to
capture the careless and unready.
 
Brendan pulled out his bow and held an arrow at the notch, as he too
observed the woods carefully for any signs of trouble.
 
The forest was silent around them,
except for a soft breeze rusting through the leaves and the tall grasses
surrounding the mysterious object.
 

Adrien's
expression turned to concern when he recognized the shape before him.
 
He forced his way quickly through the
brush to the side of a woman sprawled out in the grass.
 
Her blouse was the brilliant white
shade that had caught his attention from the road.
 
She lay on her back with her eyes closed, her face pale and slack.
 
Adrien leaned forward to check her
breathing.
 
She was exhaling the slows
regular breaths of a deep sleeper.
 
He examined her quickly for injuries, surprised when he found none.
 
Her shirt was made of a rough material,
held together in the front by an unusual type of buttons.
 
She wore men's britches in a pale shade
of tan, girded at the waist by a thin leather belt. He blushed deep crimson as
he realized her legs were mostly bare from far above the knees.
 
He quickly pulled off his cloak to
cover her, while modestly averting his eyes from the improper view.
 
Her feet were covered with a strange
pair of brown boots, held together at the top of the foot with a complex system
of lacings.
 
A black cloth bag lay
an arm’s length away from her outstretched arm.

"What
is it?" Brendan called out.
 
He had determined to his satisfaction they were alone; no hidden
compatriots in the woods waiting to attack when their attention was focused on
the distraction on the ground.
 
He
dismounted and followed his friend’s path through the tall, desiccated weeds.
  
They crumpled under his boots as
they had done under his companion’s.
 
And Brendan realized, studying the growth encircling him and the object
in the grass, under no one else’s steps.
 
From the undisturbed state of the vegetation, no one had walked through
this field for some time, giving him more reason to wonder how what they had
found had gotten there at all.
 
Adrien heard his steps and turned around, puzzlement dominating his
expression.

"A
woman," he said.
 
"Dressed in white."

"How
in the Lady’s name…” Brendan started, but the sight of her disrupted his exclamation.
 
He too examined her closely, noting the
strangeness of her appearance.
 
“How did she get here?” he asked over his shoulder.
 
Adrien shrugged in response.
 
He didn’t want to leave her to her fate
in the tall grass, but he had no desire to draw attention to himself by
transporting her to the nearest farm for aid.
 
And he was extremely frustrated that his own curiosity had
brought him to this situation.
 
He
stepped away from the scene to gaze up into the sky and let himself think of
possible responses to the new dilemma.
 
Brendan certainly knew his friend well enough to know his pose meant he
wanted peace to think, and instead let his own attention stay focused on the
stranger.

Brendan
knelt down and gently stroked her pale cheek.
 
"Rather pretty, I think."
 
At his touch, she gave a shudder and
moaned softly.
 
"She's
waking!"
 
Brendan called to
his friend with relief.
 
He
crouched down next to her and waited for her next move.
 
She stretched her arms above her head as
she slowly returned from the sleepworld.
 
She licked her lips, moaned, and turned her face from the rays of the
fading sun.
 
One eyelid opened,
revealing a brilliant green iris surrounded by angry redness, and squinted
against the light.

"Ow,"
she murmured, pulling up her left hand to rub her forehead.
 
"What the hell was
that?"
 
She stretched again
and tried to pull herself up to a sitting position, still with her eyes
clenched shut against the brightness.

"My
lady," Brendan urged in a soothing voice.
 
"Rest.
 
I
fear you are injured."

At the
sound of his voice, the woman's eyes flew open.
 
She stared bewildered at the man for half a second, then
clambered into a defensive crouch with a snarl.
 
She almost fell as her balance wavered.
 
Brendan flew to his feet to steady her
with a hand on her shoulder.
 
She
pulled away and tumbled backwards.
 
With a cry, she sat up again, still glaring ferociously at the
travelers.

"Don’t
you touch me!" she snapped, inching backwards towards the shelter of the
woods.

"We'll
not harm you!" Brendan replied quickly, offering her a friendly
smile.
 
Adrien took a step
closer.
 
She heard the crunching of
his footsteps and turned to include him in her glare.

"Right,"
she snapped back.
 
"You won't
have that option."
 
Her
unsteady rise to her feet proved the improbability of her bravado.
 
She managed to waver and remain
upright, tracking Adrien through narrowed eyes
as he
approached slowly.
 
He kept his
place with his hands open in front of him in a gesture of trustworthiness.
 
She turned to the closer man, who was smiling
and murmuring words of benevolence
 
A minute passed before she thawed a bit.
 

"Who
are you?" she said.
 
"And
where am I?"
 
She took a
moment to look around her and study her surroundings, and frowned deeply at the
sight.
 
The men were frozen in place
observing her in return, noting oddities in every line of her clothes and
manner.
 
The white blouse unnerved
them; in the Eastlands only bodies dressed for their funerals ever wore the
color of death.

"We're
travelers," Adrien said.
 
"Seeking our fortunes in the world."
 
The woman nodded.
 

"Okay,"
she said, peering over his shoulder at the road.
 
"Hitchers.
 
But where's the city?
 
How
did I get out to the countryside?"

"We’ve
just found you here," Brendan explained.
 
"We don't know how you came to be at the side of the
road.
 
Which city are you
from?"

"Bethlehem,"
she answered.
 
"I was on my
way to my eight o'clock class at Lehigh, when all of a sudden I’m
here."
 
She stopped, noticing
for the first time the strangeness of their clothing, and the gear-laden horses
grazing behind them.
 
"Where
are we, Lancaster?
 
Are you
Mennonites?"

"We
are in Arden, my lady," Adrien replied.
 
"A week's journey from the border of Allè-dôn.
 
I don't know the city of Bethlehem, nor
any place called Lancaster.
 
Where
in the Eastlands is that?"
 
The woman stared, the slight bit of color that had returned to her face
draining away again.
 
They spoke
recognizable words, but with an accent so odd she wasn't sure if she was
interpreting them correctly.