Chapter Six: Old Friends

Tranith Argan: Book 4

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After Helóne warns Alessa against loving Felanar, the time has come to resume their journey to Elaria.

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Dawn found them sharing a final breakfast on Helóne's balcony, mountain air crisp around them as their host packed provisions for their journey.

"We won't need much," Alessa protested, "We're nearly home."

Helóne's hands never stopped moving as she tucked dried fruit and bread into their packs. "You never know," she said softly, and continued until each pack was full.

By mid-morning, she had sketched them a path through the tunnels that would lead to a northeastern exit. "There's a village in the foothills," she explained, drawing an invisible map with her finger. "The elven knights often patrol near there."

After embraces and farewells that seemed to pain their host, the four companions descended into the tunnel system for the last time.

Less than an hour through the winding tunnels brought them back into sunshine. They turned to look up at Mount Majestic, but Helóne's balcony had vanished — the clever stonework made it invisible from below, allowing her to watch without being watched. Only someone who knew exactly where to look might spot the faintest shadow of its outline against the rock face.

Alessa scanned the horizon with elven precision, searching for any sign of pursuit. The landscape lay quiet save for wind in the grass. Whatever path the Hírikk Jakkír had taken, it wasn't this one.

They stopped at midday beside a brook that sang over stones, sharing Helóne's carefully packed delicacies. Even Felanar ate heartily, the last traces of Namonikkar's torture fading from his body. Their spirits lifted with each mile until Alessa's raised hand brought them to instant silence.

Her head tilted, listening. "People ahead," she murmured, "but only two, if I read the signs correctly. No horses, no soldier's boots. Not the Hírikk Jakkír—perhaps villagers far afield."

They waited, watching the bend in the path ahead. Two figures appeared in the distance, a man and woman who, upon spotting the travelers, let out cries of delight and broke into a run. Alessa's eyes widened in recognition.

"The prisoners from the saark caves," she breathed. "I can hardly believe it."

"Pross and Jela?" Felanar's voice held equal wonder.

The reunion burst upon them in a flurry of heavy breathing and joy. Jela, face glowing, flung herself at Felanar in an embrace so tight he could not breathe for a moment. "I knew we would find you," she repeatedly said, her voice thick with emotion as she alternated between pressing her head to his chest and gazing up at him with undisguised adoration.

"She did," Pross confirmed between breaths. "Kept saying we'd find you by this mountain. I thought her mad, but here you are."

Felanar gently disentangled himself from Jela's arms, though he couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "But why are you here? How did you find us?"

"Looking for you," Jela beamed. "We had nowhere else to go. I told my brother you would look after us."

"Then Slakh truly freed you?" Felanar asked.

"Yes." Pross shook his head in wonderment. "Though I'll never understand how. You halt their whips without punishment, convince their leader to free slaves; it goes against everything the saarks believe in, but he did it and he said he was doing it for you. What power do you wield over these creatures?"

Felanar's laugh was warm. "It's called friendship, Pross. I gave no orders to Slakh. I asked him, as one friend to another, and I'm grateful he honored that friendship."

“You are friends with these beasts?” asked Jela with wide eyes.

“I am trying to be, yes, though I share some of your discomfort, Jela, but I wish to befriend them if possible. And in Slakh I now see a saark who is honorable and who deserves cooperation. But why did you search for us? Why didn't you just go back to your village? That is what I thought and hoped you would do.”

Pross turned his head to one side. “You do not understand the ways of my people. We could not go back to our village, it would bring shame on them and us. It would go against our custom. We were chosen to be slaves, and slaves is who we are. To go back while we are healthy in body and mind would bring shame upon us.”

“Even if you told them you were released?” asked Kara.

“Nobody would believe this,” said Jela, her eyes still wide, looking toward Kara and then back at Felanar. “If we said the saarks released us they would think we were lying. They would bring us back to the caves themselves, thinking we were escapees. So we could not stay in the caves because Slakh told us to leave, but we could not return to our village for they would not take us. We had nowhere to go.”

“I see,” said Felanar slowly, “that I have underestimated the power of custom among your people, and perhaps have stepped into a situation that is more complex than I realized. Maybe it was wrong of me to have you released, but I did it only to avoid having you suffer any more.”

Everyone started to speak at once:

“Of course it wasn't wrong,” said Kara.

“I am glad you did this,” said Pross.

“It could never be wrong to show kindness,” said Alessa.

“You saved me,” said Jela staring at Felanar.

Alessa stared at Jela with distaste but said nothing to her.

Felanar, feeling uncomfortable, looked at Pross and asked, “So how did you find us?”

“That was easy,” said Pross. “When Slakh released us, and said he was doing it for you, I asked him where you were. He told us you were headed for Mount Majestic. So we simply traveled here on horses he gave us after we told him of our plan. We arrived here yesterday and have been circling the mountain and moving through the region surrounding it in the hopes of finding you. We were overjoyed at seeing you walking along the path. As I said, I doubted we would find you, but Jela wouldn't let me give up. Oh, here, when Slakh heard of our plans and gave us the horses to help us, he gave me a scroll to give to you. Here it is.”

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small piece of parchment that was rolled up and sealed with wax. He gave it to Felanar who broke the seal, read it quickly, and then smiled.

“Slakh sends his greetings to us all, points out that he kept his side of the bargain, and looks forward to my keeping my side.”

“You were right about him,” said Kara, “and I am glad you stuck to your instinct with him. Well done, brother.”

Felanar nodded at his sister.

“Where are your horses?” he asked Pross.

“Up around the bend,” he said, pointing behind him. “We stopped for lunch and were taking a walk, but they are back at our lunch site. There are only two though.”

“That is fine, we have walked this far, I think we can walk the rest of the way,” said Felanar.

“You walked all this way?” asked Jela in wonder.

“Yes. At times day and night.” Felanar explained about their pursuers and at the mention of the Hírikk Jakkír both Pross and Jela shrank back in fear.

“Do not worry,” said Kara soothingly, “they seem to be nowhere around now. We lost them in Majestic.”

All six of them began walking up the path toward the horses, Jela walking right next to Felanar and glancing at him every so often in a way that made him feel quite self-conscious. Alessa and Kara walked with Pross who told them of their journey and the troubles they encountered in the wilderness, but at no time did they see another person along the way. Kara was very interested, but Alessa kept glancing back at Jela with a look that was a mixture of regret and annoyance. Dolen stumped along contentedly.

After they turned the bend in the road and came to the camp site, Felanar explained their plans to Pross and Jela.

“I feel responsible for you both due to my actions,” he said, “and I promise to take care of you somehow. I live in Argan and you are welcome to live there under my protection.”

“Do you live on a farm?” asked Pross.

“Uh, no, not a farm,” replied Felanar. “Kara and I live in a city, Tranith Argan.”

“Oh, a city . . .” said Pross.

“What's wrong with that?” asked Felanar. “Oh, never mind, it's stupid of me to ask such a question. Of course you wouldn't like living in a city. All you know is village life.”

“What about Brindledown?” suggested Kara.

“Yes, Brindledown,” said Felanar, “our parents live there and it's just the sort of life you are used to there. You could farm or fish and you would be accepted by the villagers there. Or if that is still too large a place there is always Brookhollow or Upton along the river.”

“Are these places close to you?” asked Jela.

“Not too far,” said Felanar.

“You would visit?” she asked.

“I plan to visit Brindledown as often as possible. And you are welcome as my guest in Tranith Argan any time you wish.”

“Oh, is your house big enough for guests?” she asked.

Felanar laughed. “Yes, it is big enough.”

Jela look puzzled but did not follow up. Instead she kept her brown eyes fixed on Felanar's face until he looked away in embarrassment.

With the horses loaded down with everyone's supplies, the six of them walked north along the path in the direction where Helóne said they would come to a village. The afternoon sun felt good as they walked and conversation continued for hours. It was nearly dusk when Alessa spoke up.

“I see the village, up ahead just there on the right. See it?”

She pointed to a dark cluster near the horizon. It took several more minutes of walking before the others could make out features. There were fewer trees as they walked, and farmland appeared on either side of the road. Up ahead the dark clump was now seen as a group of huts and thatched-roofed homes.

The road curved to meet the village and along its borders was a fence of stakes that rose about six or seven feet from the ground, though not in a smooth pattern but more of a ragged one that looked as if it had been erected in not so much of a plan but out of momentary necessity. Beyond the stakes were a series of dwelling structures including one long building in the center.

In front of a hinged door in the stake wall was a small guard hut. As the travelers approached, two guards stepped out and held out their arms. The travelers stopped walking.

Felanar stepped to the forefront of the group, and it was to him that the guards approached.

“Name yourselves and your business,” said the first guard who was taller and older than the other. Both men wore leather armor and carried swords that looked primitive in their construction. They had leather helmets that covered their heads but seemed ill-fitting. The men were shorter than Felanar and looked not very threatening despite their armor and weapons.

Felanar nodded in their direction and said, “My name is Felanar. We are travelers passing through, having been directed to this village for aid by Helóne, the elven woman who lives in the mountain. She said we would find friends here, and I hope that she was not mistaken, for we come in peace.”

The first guard glanced at the second, then turned back.

“Who are they?” He pointed at the others.

“This is Kara, my sister, and this is Dolen who you can see is a dwarf. Behind me are Pross and Jela, friends of mine from a village in the west, and this is Alessa.”

The guard scowled at the elf.

“The old woman of the mountain we know,” he said to Felanar. “She spoke the truth, but to the wrong people. You are not welcome here.”

“If we are not welcome to your hospitality, can you at least direct us to the nearest band of elves in the area?”

The guards stepped back and drew their swords.

“Spies!” the first one cried.

Felanar stepped back but did not draw a weapon.

“I assure you we are not,” he said in a calm voice and with a forced smile. “We are friends with the woman in the mountain.”

“So you say,” said the guard.

“So I say and so I mean,” said Felanar. “Why would we have been directed to your village if she were not our friend?”

“This I do not know,” said the guard as he rubbed his chin with his left hand. “All I know is that you ask for elves and you travel with one, and this means you are not our friends.”

“But the woman of the mountain is an elf!” said Felanar.

“And rejected by her people, which is why she is our friend,” said the guard. “If you seek the elf bands around here, you are not our friend and you are not her friend. I need to report this!”

The guards turned around and began marching back to their hut. Felanar walked after them.

“Please believe me,” he urged, “we mean no harm to your village. This I swear.”

“Oh never mind,” said an irritated Alessa, “we are close enough now I am sure I can get my kinsmen's attention from anywhere around here.”

The guards stopped in mid-stride and whirled around.

“You are definitely spies then!” the first guard said. He pulled out a horn and blew it, creating a loud sound that was soon echoed from within the village. In just a few moments the gate was opened and a dozen more guards ran out, swords brandished, and the six travelers were surrounded.