Empress of Clouds - Chapter 23

                                                                     Chapter 23

           

                 

            The hospitality at the Tanslynt Inn was as fine as Kiliordes had encountered (in Lorm, in any case).  When he was not helping Findelbres tend to the unconscious Brythia, he was sitting in the common room enjoying the toasty fire, the delicious food, hearty ale, rowdy talk, quick wit, and the good company of his companions.  At that moment, he was sprawled over a comfortable chair, his feet propped up, and his belly full of stew and beer.  Pagyrus was finishing a dirty joke.  The dark pilgrim was surprisingly affable and jolly, characteristics that seemed like they would have been quite foreign to his long, broad, and somewhat taciturn face.  Laughing, Delorick left to utilize a chamber pot.

            Pagyrus was still smiling when he addressed Kiliordes, “Have you had an opportunity to consider our offer?”

            “Your offer?” asked Kiliordes.  “Oh,” he remembered after a moment, “about joining the Solar Pilgrimage Festival?”

            Pagryus's smile spread even wider.  “No.  About leading the Solar Pilgrimage Festival.”

            Whenever he heard the words Solar Pilgrimage Festival, his heart warmed.  The days he spent with them were the happiest he could remember.  He was growing weary of all the bickering and infighting back at the palace.  All the commotion about Tolian being the heir.  He had done his best there after all.  Now, it certainly seemed likely that the problem of Tolian was settled.  Dowbreth had taken her to Faerie.  There was nothing else they could do.  No mortals ever returned from Faerie.  Relinder would be named the heir, with Kelvris named as second.  They had tried damn hard to save Tolian, but she was beyond their power to help her.  Poor child.  Perhaps it would be best to put all of this Lormian business behind him.  Yes, he could envision himself immersed in the continual celebration of the Sun’s journey. 

            He looked at the pilgrim’s face, and nodded gently.  He felt warm and good.  The beer was surging through him, making him feel lighter, more cheerful, perhaps than he should have been.

            “Pagyrus,” Kiliordes announced, “as soon as we get Princess Brythia safely back to Lorm, I will come with you to join the Pilgrimage.”

            “You mean, lead the Pilgrimage,” corrected Pagyrus.

            “I mean join the Pilgrimage.  We can discuss the rest later.”

            “I fear you make your plans too soon,” chimed Findelbres, coming up behind them.  “The princess is not giving up.  She will not be returning to Lorm.”

            “What do you mean, she’s not giving up?” inquired Kiliordes.  “What choice does she have?  Even if she was brave enough to enter the Faerie Realm to pursue them, she could not.  You yourself said that the way to Faerie is closed.”

            “Indeed,” agreed Pagyrus, “I do understand the Princess’ drive.  I have never seen such determination, but what more can she hope to do?  Except, try to find a way to carry on without Princess Tolian.  That’s the business she should be engaged in.  Perhaps she would like to come with us and forget her troubles by following the righteous course of the Sun.  Kiliordes has told me that Brythia was a priestess of the Sun in the druid’s order.  She should be well inclined to our company.”

            “Well,” answered Findelbres, “perhaps she would be so inclined if she had given up hope as easily as you two have.  But, she and Tolian are my friends and I mean to help her as long as I am able.  We have determined to make our way into Faerie by other means.  A way that should be unsuspected, and unguarded by the Folk of the Sidhe.  Perhaps we can gain entrance that way.”

            Kiliordes gulped.  “Enter Faerie?”

            “Not you three, no,” replied the Elven warrior.  “Once we reach our entrance point, Brythia and I will go on alone.”

            “Where is this entrance point?” came a question from Delorick, who had just rejoined them.

            “The way we are going to try is hid in the Pine Barrens of Southwestern Lorm,” said Findelbres.

            “I will see you safely there,” stated Delorick.

            “Yes, of course,” agreed Kiliordes.  “I shall do so as well.  And if you will accompany us, Pagyrus, I shall go with you once we have seen them safely off.”

            “Excellent,” exclaimed the Solar Pilgrim.

            Kiliordes took another pull on his ale.  “How is she feeling,” he asked the faerie.

            Findelbres cracked a smile finally.  “She is the toughest damn mortal I’ve ever met.”

 

Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt