Chapter 14

Mark and Talia arrived on the patio at their cottage and were given a rousing cheer by most of those who were gathered about, which included their four comrades-at-arms, Stripe, Scout, and the Hilian elves. Kragorram, Povon, Silaran and Equemev were lounging on the smooth, sun-warmed stone of the gentle slope to the left of the patio, surrounded by elves who had been eagerly engaging them in conversation. Stripe was stretched out in the center of the patio, luxuriating in the attentions of another circle of elves, who admiringly gave him rubs and scratchings. Scout was perched on the peak of the cottage’s roof, calmly observing all, while two of the Atoning sat on the roof beside him, one of them gently scratching him under his beak with a fingertip.

“Thank you.” Talia called to them, and she and Mark gave them a smile and a wave.

Hilsith and the Healers who had worked with her on the injured from Winghoof were circulating about, examining the elves, offering a few words, and casting the occasional minor cure, and now the elven Healer hurried up to the patio and began casting diagnostics on the two of them, then stopped.

“Mark, do you have the tine band?” she asked.

“No, but I know the frequencies, and I can use the spell Yazadril used to make it.” he sighed as he and Talia took a seat at their breakfast table. He picked up the table and set it aside, pulled Talia’s chair over so she was sitting cuddled against his side, and cast a spell that vibrated his skull as the tine band did, but slightly less so. “There. How’s that?”

“Excellent.” Hilsith nodded absent-mindedly as she resumed casting diagnostics. When she finished, she nodded, and offered them her hands. She gave theirs a warm squeeze as she smiled encouragingly at each of them in turn.

“You are as healthy as it is possible to be, both physically and emotionally, for young adults of good heart who have just returned from their first taste of war. You can expect to experience strange emotions over the next few days as your mind comes to terms with it; sadness, anger, fear, guilt, pride, relief, and the joy of being alive. Try to recognize that these emotions are a normal part of the adaptation process, and try not to let them overly affect your behavior or your decisions. Simply let them run their course, and know that they are temporary. Know also that you have been spared the most common and devastating blow suffered by warriors, since not one of your comrades-in-arms were killed. At this moment your emotional resources are quite depleted, though they will recover quickly. Still, it would be best if you could manage to stay out of trouble for a few days.”

“Thank you, Hilsith.” Mark nodded as he dismissed his spell. “I think I already knew all that, but it’s nice to have it confirmed by a professional. How are the others?”

“Fifty-nine elves suffered minor magical backlash when the Shield around the decoys was disrupted. They’ve all been treated, and they’re fine now. My colleagues and I have perfected the treatments we used after the Winghoof attack, and were able to use them much more quickly and effectively this time.

“Also, Silaran and a few of the elves suffered a bit of after-battle emotional shock, mostly among the Volunteers, there was some vomiting and what have you. One’s first exposure to violent death can be a trying thing, and one never knows how a given person will react. Some of history’s most valiant warriors learned the hard way to never eat before battle, in order to prevent losing their meal afterward. But our injured are all young and resilient, and with the minor treatments they’ve received, they should not be unduly troubled by their experience.”

“Good. Thank you.” Mark nodded, and stood to address those gathered there, who had been silently following the conversation.

“You all risked death for us today. Some of you were injured on our behalf, both here and in Kletiuk. There ... There can be no greater act of friendship or dedication than that. I’ve never felt so ... honored. I can’t think of anything to say that does justice to the emotions I’m feeling for you all right now. Thank you. I thank you with all my heart. And if there is ever anything I can do for any of you, you only have to ask.”

He faltered, and looked down to Talia who stood beside him, one arm wrapped around his upper thigh, her other hand on her hilt.

“We have achieved three great victories today.” she stated, smoothly carrying on as he left off. “We prevented an assassination that would have killed many Kleti within the courtyard of their Hall of Government, we defeated eighty-eight wizards and warriors of Venak and the conspiracy, and most importantly, we captured twenty-four of them and sent them to The Hall of The Just Alliance, where they were immediately placed in stasis by The Grand Council of Xervia. That is, all except for the six whom Povon first captured, whom she placed in stasis before they were sent. We took this precaution in case any of them have trapped themselves with memory-blocking or self-destructing spells to prevent their being interrogated.

“One by one, they will be released from stasis for the tiniest fraction of a second, just long enough for them to be examined for traps. Then, when those traps are recognized and prepared for, they will be released from stasis again, and any troublesome spells will be immediately removed. They will then be Compelled to swear to truth and justice upon the Truthstone of Falgaroth, and then thoroughly interrogated. We will thus gain very crucial intelligence as to conditions and happenings in Venak, and within the insidious conspiracy.

“Your efforts today were magnificent, and you have justly earned the gratitude of everyone in The Just Alliance. Before today, we were simply citizens of Hilia. Today, we are also a battle-tested military force, and a formidable one at that.

“Now, we’ve about fifty minutes to visit with you before we have to start getting ready for Mark’s birthday celebrations. Myself, I could do with a light snack and a tall glass of ice-cold bumbleberry wine, and I imagine many of you feel similarly, so we’ll arrange for refreshments to be served.

“And of course, you were all suddenly interrupted by our call to battle, so if any of you have other activities that you wish to return to, feel free to do so. If we don’t get a chance to speak to any of you here, we’ll try to do so later at the party. Again, thank you all. You have our most heartfelt appreciation.”

She and Mark made their deepest and most ornate bow, and held it for a long moment.

When they straightened, almost all of the Atoning, which was most of the elves present, disappeared in a rapid series of flashes. A minute later two of them returned with a huge table loaded with food and drink, then they were gone again. Of that group, only Sheramiv and Relgemit remained.

There was a moment of expectant silence, then Balen spoke with careful courtesy. “My Prince, we can intuit that you are troubled, as some of us are, by today’s events. Please, let us ease your spirit, in the elven way.”

“The elven way? Beyond the use of Tranquilities, you mean?” he asked.

“If you give us your leave, we will sing, and we will dance, while we rub the stress from your tense muscles, and tantalize you with delectables.” Balen stated, her smile encouraging. “We’ll all take a turn in the giving and receiving of comfort and relaxing pleasures. We will celebrate life. We will forgive our enemies for attacking us, and we will forgive ourselves for taking lives in the cause of justice. We will ... zhenshimlaia ... In this language you would say ... uh...”

“We will purify our souls and our emotions of the taint of darkness forced upon us by the cruelty of others.” Sheramiv supplied. “In ages past our people had very elaborate traditional ceremonies and songs for zhenshimlaia, that were performed according to exact procedures, but that was before the gods withdrew. We still sing the songs, but now the activity is far more free-form and spontaneous.”

“That ... sounds wonderful!” Mark’s grin slowly spread upon his face. “What should I do for this zhemsum ... What is it again?”

“Zhen shim LAH yuh.” Balen pronounced with exaggerated clarity, and smiled with restrained delight. “And for now, you and Talia will simply relax and enjoy, as will those of us who were most stressed by the experience. When you feel completely refreshed and you have seen what we do, you can offer your attentions to those who have been granting you theirs, or join in the singing and dancing.”

“Zhenshimlaia. Relax. Got it.” Mark grinned, as a dozen of the Devoted lifted Talia with gentle Levitations. They tried to Levitate him as well, but it didn’t work since he’d deactivated the vibration spell, so he simply Levitated himself. The elves giggled and guided their floating forms to the largest of the oval lawns by hand.

“I’m surprised that you young High People are all that familiar with the tradition, since your nation has been at peace since long before you were born.” Hilsith commented as they moved downslope.

“We learn it in school.” Talia told her. “And though none of us has truly needed zhenshimlaia before today, we practice it because it’s fun.”

Soon everyone was in place, Mark and Talia and a few of the elves lounging comfortably in mid-air three feet above the center of the largest lawn, Balen and some of the Devoted interspersed among them, while the rest of the elves formed concentric rings around them. Sheramiv, Relgemit, and Hilsith took their places in the circles, while the Healers of other races gathered beside Kragorram, Povon, Equemev and Silaran.

Balen addressed those observers as stillness settled upon the gathering. “You are welcome to observe or to participate, as the moment moves you.”

“Thank you.” Povon said with a gracious nod, speaking for the group.

“We begin.” Balen stated as she smiled, closed her eyes, and turned to the center. With a wave of her hand to set the time, she and all the elves began to sing, and those who stood in the circles began to dance with flowing grace. The melody was complex, yet sweet and soothing, and soon multiple harmonies were added; softly swelling, then fading back into the volume of the melody in overlapping waves of sound. Each ring of dancers used slightly different movements that complemented each other with breathtaking beauty.

Then Mark was distracted from that as dozens of tiny hands began expertly rubbing the tension from his muscles, and tantalizing his sense of touch with subtler caresses. He groaned in pleasure and relief and closed his eyes, and a wave of complete relaxation came over him. For a quarter of an hour he simple floated in complete lethargy, immersed in the singing, enjoying the occasional sips of beverages and tidbits of delicacies the elves held gently to his lips, each a surprising and delicious sensation.

Then he realized that Talia was floating right above him and caressing his face, and he opened his eyes to see her smiling down at him, her eyes only a foot above his.

“Would you care to dance with me, my love?” she giggled.

“I would.” he grinned.

He swung his feet down and stood as she alighted beside him. She led him to the first ring of dancers, who made room for them in the ring. He realized that their movements were the simplest, with only the steps and gestures that were the basis of the dance, and that each ring around that added more variations on the theme. Tentatively at first, then more confidently as Talia guided him over their Link, they became part of the great dance. The most talented and enthusiastic dancers moved through the air above it all, improvising as soloists, duos, and small groups. Servers with trays of food and drink danced smoothly through it all, and those who partook of their offerings did so without interrupting the flow.

Mark began humming along with the melody as he joyously danced, his deep bass adding a fullness to the chorale.

On the slope beside the lawn, Silaran danced with Equemev in the graceful, athletic, prancing style of The People of Morning, their hooves adding a perfectly timed and delicate percussion to the song as they tapped upon the stone.

When Mark and Talia were moving to the second ring and adding their embellished movements, Kragorram and Povon leaped into the air, cleared the aerial elven dancers with two synchronized wing beats each, and began their own dance above it all. Their long and sinuous bodies intertwined in such a complex and sensuous manner that only their contrasting colors prevented it from being confusing to the eye.

Mark noticed that the gathering had grown. Yazadril and Nemia were dancing with Hilsith in the second ring, close to Dalia, Bezedil and Alilia. All the Healers had joined the dance except the old giant and the copper dragon, who stood by observing with a concentration worthy of a miraculous new kind of Healing, even as their toes tapped with the tempo of the music that surrounded them. Perhaps two hundred of the Atoning had overcome their shyness at being in Mark’s presence enough to return and form a new set of circles on another lawn, since there was no room for more on the main one.

Mark cast a quick Speaking. “Sheramiv, I think this is something all the Atoning should share, if they can possibly be spared from their duties. Call them back. Make it an order if necessary.”

“I agree, and I will!” she laughed.

Soon every lawn had circles of singing, dancing elves, and at the center of each were those who were administering comfort, and those receiving it.

When Mark and Talia began to pleasantly tire from their exertions, she led them one by one back through the inner circles and their easier movements. When they reached the center again, they joined those who were giving comfort to others. Mark expected that there would be a rush of the Devoted moving to the center to be massaged by him, but the patience and courtesy of the elves was greater than that, and there was little visible change in the complex flow of people through the gathering.

By then he was familiar enough with the music to improvise bass harmonies in counterpoint to the melody, and as he found himself administering to a pretty young elfess, he sang to her joyously and wordlessly, simply using various vowels to play with the notes. She gloried in his attentions as he massaged her shoulders and back with his fingertips, adapting a gentler version of the Ranger’s rubdown techniques he’d used after weapons practices. It never occurred to him to translate the Elvish lyrics he was hearing, since the emotion of the music was so pure and obvious in the sound itself.

Half a minute later she floated out of his reach and into Talia’s, and she gave him a smile of pure and profound gratitude as another took her place.

So it continued, until Talia’s thoughts murmured in Mark’s mind. “We have to go soon, my handsome prince.”

“Do we have time for me to zhenshimlaia you first?” was his chuckled thought in reply.

“Yes, and for me to return the favor.” she giggled as she floated up, turned horizontal to lay relaxed with her back beneath his strong hands, and stretched luxuriously at his comforting touch.

When she bade him to switch places, she augmented her physical strength with subtle spells of Force, so she could give him the strong, deep-muscle rubdown he hadn’t felt in months. She chuckled at his deep groans of heartfelt appreciation.

“Now we really have to go.” she smiled as she finished. “We’re a few minutes behind schedule, so we should hurry a bit to catch up.”

She turned and cast a Speaking to everyone there. “Thank you all, so very much. Please, continue, and we’ll be back in about an hour.”

She then narrowed her Speaking to a select few. “Father, is everything ready?”

“Yes.” Yazadril replied. “Your destination has been protected by a small-scale version of the entire system of Wards around Hilia. At the moment of your Translocation, thousands of decoy versions of you will be Translocated to similarly Warded Locations all over The Just Alliance. You will be safe, and maybe we’ll catch a few more conspirators.”

“Thank you.

“Mark, we’ll change into something semi-formal, and then I have a surprise for you.” Talia then brought them both to their bedroom inside the cottage.

“How can you have arranged such an elaborate surprise, when I’m practically aware of your every thought?” he laughed as he rummaged through a chest of clothing. “I’m certainly aware of every spell and Speaking you cast.”

“Actually, unless you make a specific effort to do so, you’re not aware of my every thought when we’re not actively Linked.” she laughed as she instantly changed clothes with a spell. “And if we don’t wish it, you’re not privy to the Link I share with Ria, or to communications she has with others, like my father. After the way we planned for the attack today, you might have realized that.”

“I see.” he chuckled as he drew on a fresh kilt of dark brown weave.

Soon they were ready, he in a white silk shirt with pearl buttons, a gold hairclip, and a jacket that matched the kilt, she in a simple blue silk belted summer dress that fell to her calves, with some of her hair artfully arranged in ringlets atop her head and held with gold pins.

“We’re going to be Translocated by Alliance military personnel.” she informed him. “Simply be passive and let it happen, so that as little of our magical and psionic auras are associated with the spell as possible.”

“Right.” he nodded.

“We’re ready to go, Father.” Talia informed Yazadril, and a moment later they were elsewhere.

They appeared on the front lawn of a property that was just large enough to be considered a walled estate, in front of a stately two story home that was just big enough to be called a mansion. They could sense the abundant power of the Wards that made the air seem to subtly sizzle around them. It was night at their destination when they arrived, and the scene was lit by dozens of gas torches brightly wavering in the summer breeze at the tops of eight foot tall steel posts. The lights were placed every twelve feet along the top of the estate walls, and on either side of the paved drive, which curved from the main gates to the front of the house, and continued around the side to the yards in the rear. The sounds of a city in the midst of a busy evening were heard drifting faintly over the ten-foot walls. The home was of red sandstone blocks, and featured well-proportioned simple lines lacking any ornate detail, and large multiply-paned rectangular windows. The double front doors were only two steps higher than ground level, sheltered beneath an arched portico.

“A pleasing style for a home, I think.” Talia commented. “It makes no pretensions of grace, instead offering an aesthetic simplicity and a welcoming solidity.”

“I’ll say it offers solidity!” Mark chuckled. “The place is a small fortress!”

“Oh? How so?”

“Look at the windows. You can tell from the depth of the lintels that the walls are at least three feet thick, and notice that the panes aren’t just held in place by lead, they’re set into a gridwork of steel bars. The shutters are six inches of solid oak, and they can be closed and secured from inside by those hinged rods at the bottom.”

“Ah.” Talia nodded.

“So, are we going in?” Mark chuckled.

“No, actually.” Talia smiled, suddenly shy. “We’re attending a gathering behind the house. We arrived here in the front so that none would be in danger if the conspiracy managed to attack us upon arrival again, though we considered that next to impossible.”

“I thought the party was at Hilia.”

“It is, and we’re going back there in an hour. This is something extra. Something special.”

“Well then, shall we go back there and attend it?” he laughed, sweeping her up in his arms and giving her a quick kiss as he began following the paving stones of the drive around the house.

“Mark, wait a moment.” she asked, her mood still happy yet pensive. “I wanted this to be a surprise, but now I worry that it could be such a surprise that it would be a shock. And I think you may need a moment to prepare yourself. So I’m going to tell you who we’re here to meet.”

“All right, I’m intrigued now.” he smiled with raised eyebrows. “Go on.”

“We are within the city of Belinhome, capitol of Finitra, and this is the manor of retired Finitran army colonel Markhan Reginus Longstrider the Third, your paternal grandfather. Awaiting us behind the manor are all of your surviving close relatives. On your father’s side, your grandfather and grandmother, their three surviving sons and two daughters who are your uncles and aunts, their spouses who are your aunts and uncles by marriage, and a total of eleven cousins. On your mother’s side, you have an aunt; your mother’s sister, and her husband who is your uncle by marriage.”

Mark’s jaw dropped.

“Now I’m glad I told you before we went back there. You appear to be shaken.” She considered sharing his thoughts, but at this moment it felt like that would be intrusive.

He looked over to where the drive led around the side of the house, then back to Talia. He gave her a gentle kiss, and set off along the drive.

After two paces he broke into a jog, and within six more was sprinting with a speed that Talia found both surprising and exhilarating.

As he rounded the front corner of the house, Talia clutched tight in his arms, a young boy’s voice was heard calling with excitement. “Here they come! Running!”

Mark slowed to a walk as they came around the rear corner and emerged from the relative darkness at the side of the house.

Dozens of paper lanterns were strung over a large table covered with white linen and enough dishes of food to constitute a feast. The gathering of twenty-five humans was further illuminated by a row of the tall gas torches along the back of the house, and a bonfire in a stone pit. Many had obviously been taking their ease in simple whitewashed wood plank chairs, but they were all on their feet to offer their greeting now.

There was a brief moment of silence, then a cheer was raised by a young couple and joined by the rest of the young adults. The older adults wore the same expression Mark did as he strode to join them; a tearful grin, reflecting both the joy of meeting and shared grief for those who were so painfully absent.

Talia was struck by the fact that every male present except one looked much alike. She guessed that the exception, a portly and ruddy blond fellow in his mid-forties, would be the only male from Mark’s mother’s side of his family, his maternal aunt’s husband. The rest looked a lot like Mark, though not nearly so closely as they resembled each other, since all of them had the same shade of brown hair, they had the same muscular build, and the adults among them were uniformly within an inch of seven feet six inches, about nine inches shorter than Mark.

Then she and Mark were being soundly hugged by his grandparents; the eldest of the similar males who had shocks of white coming in at the temples of his chestnut-brown hair, and a six foot, six inch tall woman with thick gray hair who appeared to be in her mid-sixties.

It was an emotional scene, and Talia was caught up in it as those around her laughed or cried or cheered. After a moment though, she began to feel a bit claustrophobic from being completely and tightly enclosed up to her neck within the embrace of the three huge humans. The feeling grew quickly, prompting her to respond with a quick wiggle and a shove and a gentle touch of Force, and she popped up from between them like a squeezed watermelon seed.

She landed with an agile twist on an invisible surface four feet above the ground, as Mark and his grandparents stepped back in surprise, and children giggled.

“Ah, sorry about that, but I think I’d better give you my own hugs.” she said as she quickly stepped over to hug Mark’s grandmother around her neck. “Sharing Mark’s was a bit overwhelming.”

“You’ll have to excuse us, lass.” the rangy matron chuckled as she returned the tiny elfess’s hug with careful gentleness. She spoke Common with a strong Finitran accent. “We must’ve half smothered you.”

“Quite understandable.” Talia happily returned, a bit embarrassed by her action and relieved that it hadn’t been taken badly. Then she had to giggle as Mark and his grandfather shared the fierce, backslapping embrace of strong men caught up in strong emotions.

“It’s so damn good to have you here, my lad.” the elder Mark emphatically stated as the two stepped back and gripped each other’s shoulders with both hands.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been by sooner, Grandpa.”

“Bah, we know you’ve been busy, and you’ve only been out of the wilderness for five days.”

As Mark embraced his grandmother, Talia stepped to his grandfather. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Colonel Longstrider.” she said as she hugged him around his neck.

“And I’d be pleased if you’d call me Grandpa, my lass. Welcome to the family.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you all know who we are.” Mark grinned as he and his grandmother finished their embrace and he turned to address the gathering. “And I know who all my aunts and uncles are, and most of my cousins, from the occasional letters we’ve exchanged. But Talia doesn’t know you yet, and I could stand to have my memory refreshed. So, let me proudly introduce my most loved and loving wife Talia, Princess of The High People, reigning Princess of Hilia, and a formidable wizard in the militaries of our country and The Just Alliance.”

“Princess Talia.” the patriarch grinned with a crisp bow. “You’ve met my lovely wife Sana. This is my second eldest son Wittan, named for the late king, his wife Koran, their son Dren, and their daughter Petha.”

“It’s really spooky how much you look like my pa, Uncle.” Mark quietly observed as he and Talia exchanged quick embraces with those four.

“Just two years between us.” Wittan nodded soberly, then grinned. “Mind you, I had the sense to stay out of the army, and the luck to find a happy marriage six years before Markhan. Karna and I married when we were just eighteen. My boy Dren here’s twenty-two, and he’s been chosen by his namesake King Dren to represent our nation at an important tournament soon. I guess the sense skipped a generation, as he and Petha have both been in the army since they were old enough to sign for their own careers. Damn, I wish Markhan were here to tease me about it now. He would you know.”

“I’m sure he would.” Mark nodded with a wistful smile. “He was proud of his service and the skills he learned from it.”

So it went; as each of Mark’s Father’s siblings were introduced with their wives and children, comments were exchanged that served to remind Mark of what he knew of them from his parents’ stories and correspondence, and to give Talia a little insight into their personalities.

Last to be introduced were Mark’s Aunt Tilfi; his mother’s sister, and her husband Harrik; the portly blond gentleman. Tilfi seemed hesitant, but when Mark enfolded her in his embrace, she warmly returned it. Then she took his hand in both of hers. “I’m glad to meet you, Mark. I wonder how much Helem told you of me?”

“That you were two years older than she, and that she loved you dearly, though you didn’t tend to spend much time together due to having very different interests.” Mark told her. “She said that your mother had died of pneumonia when you were girls, and that your father was a trapper, and that he and the women of the valley had co-operated in raising you both until you were seventeen and she was fifteen, when you defied your father to run off with the trader’s son.”

“That’s the truth of it.” she nodded. “Tell me, do you know how much longer it was after that when my father died? And how he perished?”

“Mom said he was buried by a winter avalanche the season before she went down to the lowlands to meet my father. She was seventeen then, so it must have happened about two years after you left.”

“Ah. Helem and I exchanged a few brief letters over the years, but she never wrote about that.” Tilfi softly revealed. “Harrik and I were married the day we made it to Belinhome from Shinosa, and set out the day after that for the wine lands to the south for a load of fine bottled vintage that had to be back here within a month. We eventually settled into a regular route north to the border with The Warm People and back, twice a year.”

“And you became a wizard?” he asked. “I can see the glow of your power.”

She smiled, but shook her head. “A Healer. It took me sixteen years to get my guild certification, studying here for just three months every winter, but it’s a great profession for a traveling trader’s wife. Helem and I corresponded just enough to know that we were both very happy and contented with our lives, and that was enough. I always thought that someday I’d go back and visit her.”

“You resemble my mam more than she led me to think you would, Aunt Tilfi.” he quietly commented, noting her deep brown eyes so much like his mother’s, and the same thick black hair he’d inherited from her.