Weldon

Claire held back her tears until they were airborne. She couldn't bear for Jovari and Koldis to see her cry, and she dearly needed to cry. Once again, she found herself on Jovari's back with Reyr nothing more than a golden speck on the horizon, but Reyr's sudden departure was not the cause of her frustration and anger. The real source boiled down to two words: the king. Someone she had never met and already hated.

The sky was a private place. With the wind whistling in her ears and the ground far below, she let herself go, careful to keep her body from shaking too hard. Otherwise Jovari would know. He'd tell Koldis. They'd both judge her as a crybaby.

Each droplet that fell from her eyes carried with it a fragment of her emotion. There was no one to blame but herself. She angrily wiped her cheeks. How stupid she'd been to think that this king of Dragonwall would be reasonable. Weren't kings supposed to be wise and level-headed?

Somehow she'd missed it. After everything Cyrus told her—after all the little snippets about the king he had divulged—she failed to glean any true understanding of what this man might be like. Now she knew. Oh yes. She had listened to the abrupt conversation between King Talon and his noble Shields.

As Jovari and Koldis flew further south, the king's words continued to echo in her mind. He'd called her a murderous witch! Just thinking of it made her tears flow faster. He believed her guilty without so much as speaking a single word to her. Without even giving her a chance to explain.

If this king mistrusted her so much, would he even grant her a private audience? If he did not wish to speak with her alone, how would she fulfill her promise? She wiped at more tears.

Here she thought that her biggest challenge would be her journey. After all, the only thing that stood between her and fulfilling her promise was a vast stretch of land. She was so wrong.

No, the biggest challenge would be the king himself, and if he didn't come around, if he killed her before she could fulfill her promise, his kingdom would fall. She snorted at the thought. Maybe he deserved it. Perhaps a great man like him should be taken down a notch or two. But what would that accomplish?

Kane had to be stopped. Dragonwall wasn't the only kingdom threatened. Nothing more than a thin veil straddled her world and this one. With the Gates unprotected, Kane could easily spread his devastation to the ones she loved.

The king was her only hope. She needed him. She needed his cooperation.

Bring him to the light and he will see reason.

She ground her teeth together. Why did it have to be her job to make him see reason?

Because you made a Promise.

It wasn't fair that this kind of responsibility had fallen into her lap. She couldn't turn her back even if she tried. The pull from the Unbreakable Promise was too strong. It wouldn't allow her to walk away.

Promise or not, this is your world too, even if you refuse to admit it.

She grunted. Of course she refused admit it, but she wasn't dumb either. She hadn't missed the comments from Queen Jade and Prince Feowen. Their not so subtle hints about how only a Sprite could find Esterpine, and only a Sprite could have made it through the forest without getting lost. Their meaning wasn't lost on her. Believing what they said was merely too much to ask.

Jovari and Koldis flew for hours until the sun was in the middle of the sky. She never knew what time it was anymore. Supposing there was no need, she still disliked the disorientation it caused.

Her mood remained sullen until at last, Koldis broke the silence with something to distract her. "Weldon is there," he said.

Weldon?

"Aye. I see it now," came Jovari's answer.

She squinted south, but her eyes saw nothing more than gently rolling hills scorched from the summer's heat. And then, nestled amongst the knolls, she spotted the first road she had ever seen in Dragonwall. It was hardly discernable at this height, but it was there, twisting and winding its way in the same direction as the Flat River. The Flat River was the river they had followed south since leaving the forest.

Following the road south, she nearly gasped with excitement when she discerned a horse pulling a cart. It was miniature, barely the size of her fingertip, and moving much slower than Jovari and Koldis. Soon they overtook it. She could have sworn that the little man sitting at the reins looked up and waved hello with his cap.

"I would suggest we give the town a wide berth," Koldis advised. "But I cannot deny my longing for a mug of mead from the Drunken Maiden and a feathered bed."

"Koldis, you cannot possibly be serious." Jovari seemed against the proposition. "Have you seen the way Claire is clothed? You want to parade her through Weldon?"

She gave an audible tut in response. Her Drengr companions loved talking about her, especially when they believed she couldn't hear them. And it wasn't like her clothes were bad. Sure, she had changed out of her Sprite garb and tucked it away, but there wasn't anything wrong with a sturdy pair of jeans, paired with a T-shirt and jacket.

"I am sure she will bring many curious glances, but so too will we. She is not the only one who will stick out. I imagine the people will want to know what brings two Drengr Fairtheoir and a dead body into their midst."

"Exactly. Best to avoid such questions," said Jovari.

"Since when have we feared questions? We are Drengr. They dare not question us."

She hoped very much that Jovari would agree with Koldis, and almost laughed at herself when she realized it was Koldis she rooted for.

"I fear the rumors more than I do the questions," Jovari said. "Besides, since when am I the voice of reason when you are not?"

"I suppose there is a first for everything."

She couldn't have agreed more with the emerald green dragon flying beside them.

"Very well. I take it that you are resolved in this matter?"

"Aye. I am resolved. Besides, Reyr is the true voice of reason, and I do not see him here to stop us."

"Well, you are my superior. I dare not argue." She didn't mistake the lack of reluctance Jovari showed, as if he too welcomed the idea of food, drink, and a soft bed. Nor did she miss the snort Koldis responded with.

It was in that moment that Weldon finally rose up before them. Little wisps of smoke twisted up from tiny chimney stacks, and as they grew closer, slowly descending, she began to make out the little cottages dotting the landscape below. More horse carts now traversed the road they followed.

Within minutes, they were on the ground. Jovari quickly transformed, explaining their plan while he untied Cyrus from Koldis.

"Are you sure that it's wise to show ourselves in the village?" she argued, mimicking Jovari's original sentiments. She too was eager for the same comforts as they were, but...what fun was it hearing their conversation if she couldn't spite them with it?

"That is for us to worry over. Not you." Koldis gave her a stern glance.

"Aren't you concerned about all the questions and rumors our visit will create?"

It was difficult, but she did her best to hold back a wicked grin as Jovari and Koldis shared a knowing look.

"See?" Jovari said telepathically, lips pursed. "I am not the only one thinking reasonably."

Koldis glared back in response. "Quit pointing fingers. Had you thought reasonably, you would have given your complaints a greater effort."

Oh, she liked this very much. Pretending she couldn't hear the silent tirade, she shrugged and stirred the pot a little more. "I only brought it up because any reasonably thinking person would use caution. I thought perhaps the two of you could benefit from a voice of reason." She felt her nostrils twitch as she said this.

Koldis scowled. "Our actions are not for you to decide or question," he said, picking up Cyrus and stalking away towards the dirt road. Her nose was now flaring something terrible, so she quickly turned away from Jovari and followed Koldis. It was all she could do to keep from bursting into laughter.

Little farm houses lined the dirt road leading to the village. She took everything in, trying to absorb and memorize each detail. The dwellings were of a similar style, with thatched roofs and multi-paned windows. As they got closer, the cottages grew nicer. Some were two and three stories tall, with stone roofs. They were not quite perfect. She found it comical that some were leaning slightly to one side or the other as age got the better of them. What she liked most was that many had small fences and pens holding chickens, pigs, what Cyrus called grazers, and horses.

All sorts of sounds met her ears, from the children running about making mischief, to the mothers screeching their warnings as they scolded them. There were shouts of advertisement from the merchants in front of them, clip-clops from horse's hooves pulling their carts, and many hushed whispers from those who noticed the passing of two Drengr carrying a shrouded body, accompanied by a strange girl.

A sentry holding nothing more than a spear stood watch at the wall's stone entry. He said nothing as they approached, merely gazed at them with wide eyes.

They passed under the archway and entered Weldon. The quaint little village was entirely adorable. She found herself smiling, trailing behind Jovari and Koldis. The cottages here were nicer, unlike their dilapidated neighbors just outside the wall. Most of them were touching, with shared walls. Only a difference of paint color and height made each one discernible from the next. Like Tudor style town houses, though not nearly as fancy as the ones she had seen in pictures.

Her foot landed in something soft, accompanied by a squelching sound. She froze, looking down at her hiking boot. It sank into a puddle of muck. "You've got to be kidding me!" she groaned. A gooey mess of mud. She looked about. The entire thoroughfare was much the same. She crinkled her nose and continued on, doing her best to dodge the muck.

Jovari and Koldis had failed to see her misfortune, so she set off at a jog to catch them just before they rounded a corner into a nicer part of Weldon. When Jovari did finally notice her, he laughed. "Perhaps watch where you step next time," he said.

She scowled at him.

Ignoring them both, Koldis hailed a man passing by. "Tell me, friend, is the mead at the Drunken Maiden still as good as it used to be?"

Recognition passed over the man's face and his eyes widened. He bowed deeply. "Begging your pardon, Lord Koldis—"

It surprised her that the man knew Koldis by name.

"—I hate to say it but the Drunken Maiden fell under new management. I'd be tryin' the Flying Pig, were I you. Up two streets and make a left, if it please ya."

"I see. You are certain?"

"Aye, milord. Best honey mead for a hundred leagues o' here if you must know."

"I highly doubt that," she heard Jovari mutter as Koldis nodded, tossed the man a coin, and sent him on his way.

They continued further down the streets of Weldon. "Did you know that man?" she asked Koldis.

He grunted. "Of course not. Why would you ask?"

"Because he knew your name."

Jovari clucked. "Everyone knows our names, Claire. Best grow accustomed to it."

"Right." She turned her attention back to Weldon. This time, instead of gazing at the buildings, which had grown even taller, she looked at the people passing by. She finally understood why she stood out. She may as well have been at the Renaissance Fair. All the women were dressed completely old fashioned, just like her companions. Just like Cyrus had been when she found him. She should have guessed it, especially because of what the Sprites wore. But seeing this made it real—these people and the way they lived.

She was an outsider in every sense of the word. It didn't help that all the people looking at her whispered and pointed as she passed. Her skin heated and she avoided their eyes.

"They're all talking about me," she muttered so that only Jovari and Koldis would hear her.

"Aye. They are not used to a beautiful maiden such as yourself, gracing their midst," Jovari said.

She snorted, but his teasing had done the trick. Still, she said, "You and I both know it's because of how I'm dressed."

"Very well. Believe what you must." Jovari gave her a smirk that looked more like a reluctant smile before turning his gaze forward. It was the first nice gesture he had made towards her, and somehow, it improved her mood just a little. Moments later, the Flying Pig came into view, just in time for her growling stomach to greet it.

Sounds from happy patrons floated towards them through its open door. Her mouth watered instantly when she smelled roasting meat wafting into the street. Jovari and Koldis came to a halt, surveying the entrance.

At last Koldis shrugged. "Looks reputable enough to me."

"Aye. Shall I buy the first round?"

"Only if I might buy the second," said Koldis.

"Together we will drown our sorrows and woes properly."

"Indeed!"

She watched their exchange, hiding a grin. The hope of a hot meal, mead, and a comfortable bed seemed to lighten all their moods.

Turning to her, Koldis motioned with his arm. "Shall we?"

She stepped across the threshold. Her nose was immediately struck by the dank scent of pipes and stale alcohol. This, mixed with the lingering stench of dirty men, quickly stifled her appetite. She'd been in plenty of bars, but this was...altogether different.

The torch-lit room was much darker than outside, and after her eyes adjusted, she noticed that many tables were scattered around. Most were full. The room went quiet as they entered.

"Welcome surs," came a friendly voice. They turned toward the source. "Beggin' your pardon, miss," said the bar man as he realized she was a woman. Then his gaze studied her companions a little more closely. "Gods above! I ain't never ever be havin' lords in my tavern before. Welcome, milords. Welcome! What can I be helpin' ya with?" As he spoke, his eyes finally noticed Koldis's burden. They widened briefly at the sight of the well-disguised body. However, he pretended to ignore what he'd seen. The Sprites had done an admirable job with Cyrus, binding him in better cloth than Claire had provided, and masking the stench of his now decaying body using magic. She quickly looked back at the bar man, eager to look anywhere other than Cyrus.

Jovari took a step forward. "We require three beds, if you have them, sir. And mead. I hear you have the finest honey mead in the village." It was an admirable subject change, and the man quickly forgot what his gaze had fixated on. Instead, his face lit up from the praise.

"That I do, milords! That I do!" he said. "Come!" He didn't wait for them to follow as he led them up the stairs to his vacant accommodations. Mediocre at best. "You'll be finding all your needs accounted for here," he assured them. "The chamber pots be under the beds. My maid will see to those in the mornin'. Once you've washed up, come on down for a spot o' supper."

"Many thanks," Jovari said. He removed his coin pouch. The bar man looked greedily at the gold that tumbled onto Jovari's palm, but his honor must have gotten the better of him. "No need for payment, milords. I'll not have it said that I charged the king's own." His expression was genuine as he battled between propriety and his clear desire for payment.

"Nonsense," Jovari insisted. "We will pay for what you provide, and we will pay well."

The man smiled wide. She noticed he was missing several teeth. The rest were blackened and rotting. Aside from perhaps the Drengr, who probably had nice teeth simply because of magic, it was clear that some people in Dragonwall hadn't heard of toothpaste, or a toothbrush for that matter. From the stench below, she doubted they even bathed.

"Very well then, milords," said the bar man. "Very well, indeed. I shan't be refusin' payment if you insist. Bless you. Verek will surely favor thee well for such generosity."

She supposed that Verek was another of their many gods, but she didn't bother asking. Taking Jovari's money, the man shuffled away. She watched his retreat before Koldis spoke, "Well. You both heard the man. Let us stow our burdens, clean ourselves up, and have some supper." With that, he entered his room and shut the door. Jovari did the same, leaving her alone on the landing. She sighed and followed suit.

***

Supper that evening was unexpectedly eventful. A fiddler heard about their arrival and graced them all with his presence. A number of drunken men performed their own versions of a jig, having lost all dignity. She couldn't help but laugh as they tripped over their own toes.

Things got especially exciting when a fight broke out on the other side of the room. Many gathered around the spectacle, eagerly making bets. She'd witnessed her fair share of bar fights, but for once she was happy to watch without the responsibility of putting a stop to it. Funnily enough, it seemed that the bar man hadn't a care in the world. Maybe the thrill brought him better business, because he didn't bother interfering. It was only when the shorter of the two men was knocked unconscious that the crowd roared and applauded, and the fighting stopped. Satisfied, the larger man moved away and continued his evening as if nothing had happened.

The bar maid was an excellent cook. She eagerly scarfed down two bowls of stewed, meaty broth. When the woman emerged from her kitchen and spotted her, she made it a point to come by the table and introduce herself. Friendly as she was, Claire didn't miss the maid's curious eyes as they roved over her appearance, taking in her clothing.

She was almost relieved when the woman finally went back to the kitchen. "You had better get used to it," Koldis whispered, butting her shoulder with his. He was clearly in a good mood. She did her best to keep up with his drinking and Jovari's too, but these were Drengr, and after her second tankard, she could already feel drunkenness kicking in.

Many people stopped by their table to pay their respects, trading stories and gossip. Much to her surprise, she found her two companions very amiable drunks. They avoided any mention of their true business. It was evident that they were smooth talkers. In fact, much to her relief, it seemed that they held her in higher regard the drunker they got, perhaps forgetting to blame her for what had happened to their beloved friend.

Yet, for all the fun they appeared to be having, she could see in their eyes that they were hurting. In those moments, it hit her hard. She wasn't the only one who'd lost Cyrus. He had been their brother in all but blood. She couldn't begin to imagine how much it must have pained them to lose him.

"How will we go on without him," Koldis quietly asked at one point during the evening, falling into melancholy. It was clear that behind the exterior he often displayed, he was heartbroken. That made things harder for her, especially because she wanted so badly to continue hating him for the way he had treated her.

That night she lay in her feather bed, tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep despite the loud sounds coming from the bar below. And there in the darkness, she finally admitted something to herself that left her surprised. She did want to help Dragonwall. Not simply because of her Promise, but because she was growing fond of her companions, even if they didn't feel the same way. Jovari and Koldis weren't her enemy, despite the way they regarded her. The king wasn't her enemy either, even if he did think she was a murderous witch. The real enemy was Kane. No matter how much her companions distrusted her, mistreated her, and frustrated her, at the end of the day, they were all on the same team. That had to count for something, didn't it? She only hoped that the king would see things the way she did.

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