the storm passes.”
Kailel turned and started back up the stairs. “In that case, I hope that it rains all night and into the morning. Then you’d at least have to assist me in the selection of weapons.”
IN SPITE OF Kailel’s wishes, the storm lasted only a few hours. The stars were visible again when Alere led Breigh, a strong ivory mare, out of the stables. He was dressed in the traditional riding whites of a Verressi hunter and again wearing his father’s sword. With it, he carried a small dagger and a bow. He carried very little supplies or provisions and only a small amount of coins. He was not planning on squandering time or money at inns or other establishments.
“I wish you would stay,” Kailel said, once more, as Alere performed a final check of his gear and the finely bred horse Lord Doriel had given him before he left his land. “It has been years, Alere. Who’s to say that whomever was behind the attack on our family isn’t dead?”
“No one is to say, save whomever was behind the attack. But you should know, Kailel, that it is not revenge that I seek. Certainly not that alone.”
“Then what?”
Alere tugged on the last straps to be checked, then gathered the horse’s reins and hoisted himself effortlessly into the saddle. He looked down at Kailel and said, “The demons of Dryth are restless. Someone must quiet them.”
“A pity for us that it must be you,” Kailel complained, then met Alere’s gaze, shadowed beneath the hood of his cloak, and said gently, “Safe journey, cousin.”
Alere inclined his head, then looked to the castle’s main gates, and fled from his home for the second time.
I T HAD BEEN no easy task leaving the Pride of Celestia and her crew. However, there was no time for lingering. Xu Liang had emerged from his meditation several hours before coming to Nelayne and settled his fees with Yvain, both monetarily and with a translation of the returned scrolls written by Cai Shi-meng. She seemed to appreciate the shared knowledge, but was preoccupied with staring at his previously wounded shoulder, even though it had been cleaned—with water only—and covered with the mended, stained silk of his robes. She did not specify whether she was curious about the wound or the repair to his clothing—performed by Gai Ping—that not quite neatly reconnected the image of a bird’s head to its body along the seam of the over robe’s shoulder.
Xu Liang did not ask. He appreciated the concern that he received from those who Fu Ran had evidently developed a strong sense of kinship with. Compassion was a divine trait, after all. Still, the wound was acquired in honorable service to his empress, and would heal quicker with her blessing, as well as through the attendance of the spirits his constant meditative state invoked. Knowing that enabled him to put the lingering ache in his shoulder and the attack that inspired it behind him for now. He had taken many important steps since the start of his journey, but perhaps none so important yet as those he would take now that he had arrived on the shores of what many would consider the outermost barbarian lands.
The ship drifted at a sluggish wake in search of a proper landing. From his portside view, Xu Liang was able to draw in aspects of the settlement forthcoming. It was beyond a settlement. The western port city reminded Xu Liang of Ti Lao with its crowd and bustle, but otherwise they were not at all similar. There was a great deal more peddlers conglomerating near the docks of Nelayne, most of them selling wares rather than food. The merchants sold out of carts and baskets, and from lines connecting many of the stands, like a colorful network of webbing. Music was played from several different sources at once, mostly with western instruments, though there were a few evidently from other cultures…none from Sheng Fan. There were dancers and magicians performing wherever they found space among the merchants. Beyond the waterfront,
Kailel turned and started back up the stairs. “In that case, I hope that it rains all night and into the morning. Then you’d at least have to assist me in the selection of weapons.”
IN SPITE OF Kailel’s wishes, the storm lasted only a few hours. The stars were visible again when Alere led Breigh, a strong ivory mare, out of the stables. He was dressed in the traditional riding whites of a Verressi hunter and again wearing his father’s sword. With it, he carried a small dagger and a bow. He carried very little supplies or provisions and only a small amount of coins. He was not planning on squandering time or money at inns or other establishments.
“I wish you would stay,” Kailel said, once more, as Alere performed a final check of his gear and the finely bred horse Lord Doriel had given him before he left his land. “It has been years, Alere. Who’s to say that whomever was behind the attack on our family isn’t dead?”
“No one is to say, save whomever was behind the attack. But you should know, Kailel, that it is not revenge that I seek. Certainly not that alone.”
“Then what?”
Alere tugged on the last straps to be checked, then gathered the horse’s reins and hoisted himself effortlessly into the saddle. He looked down at Kailel and said, “The demons of Dryth are restless. Someone must quiet them.”
“A pity for us that it must be you,” Kailel complained, then met Alere’s gaze, shadowed beneath the hood of his cloak, and said gently, “Safe journey, cousin.”
Alere inclined his head, then looked to the castle’s main gates, and fled from his home for the second time.
I T HAD BEEN no easy task leaving the Pride of Celestia and her crew. However, there was no time for lingering. Xu Liang had emerged from his meditation several hours before coming to Nelayne and settled his fees with Yvain, both monetarily and with a translation of the returned scrolls written by Cai Shi-meng. She seemed to appreciate the shared knowledge, but was preoccupied with staring at his previously wounded shoulder, even though it had been cleaned—with water only—and covered with the mended, stained silk of his robes. She did not specify whether she was curious about the wound or the repair to his clothing—performed by Gai Ping—that not quite neatly reconnected the image of a bird’s head to its body along the seam of the over robe’s shoulder.
Xu Liang did not ask. He appreciated the concern that he received from those who Fu Ran had evidently developed a strong sense of kinship with. Compassion was a divine trait, after all. Still, the wound was acquired in honorable service to his empress, and would heal quicker with her blessing, as well as through the attendance of the spirits his constant meditative state invoked. Knowing that enabled him to put the lingering ache in his shoulder and the attack that inspired it behind him for now. He had taken many important steps since the start of his journey, but perhaps none so important yet as those he would take now that he had arrived on the shores of what many would consider the outermost barbarian lands.
The ship drifted at a sluggish wake in search of a proper landing. From his portside view, Xu Liang was able to draw in aspects of the settlement forthcoming. It was beyond a settlement. The western port city reminded Xu Liang of Ti Lao with its crowd and bustle, but otherwise they were not at all similar. There was a great deal more peddlers conglomerating near the docks of Nelayne, most of them selling wares rather than food. The merchants sold out of carts and baskets, and from lines connecting many of the stands, like a colorful network of webbing. Music was played from several different sources at once, mostly with western instruments, though there were a few evidently from other cultures…none from Sheng Fan. There were dancers and magicians performing wherever they found space among the merchants. Beyond the waterfront,
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