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Part One: Warden’s Retreat
The carriage slowed to a creaky stop and a man tied off the reigns for the team of horses to a post in the middle of the driver seat. The northern style of carriage was not common in these lands, and not for the first time did the man scowl at the reigns wishing they had a carriage that fit the local style. He clambered down from the back of the travel worn vehicle and worked stiff legs as he waddled around to the front of the carriage to check on the horses. The carriage had once sported purple patterned sections that had accented the rounded corners of its front and back. In a previous life, there had been ornate gold trim that had outlined the doors and bordered the windows. But now in the fading sunlight, it was hard to even make out the intricately carved details that decorated the doors and body. Such beauty hidden under a dull brown paint job that had been hastily splashed on. Dark violet curtains perfectly shrouded the inside of the carriage adding to the mystery of the northerner and what, or who, it was that he taxied.
As the man crossed the length of its side he looked up at a local inn. The Oaken Tankard, the only place of respite in this small southern town. The horses pulling the carriage stamped their hooves and whinnied flicking their heads with contempt as their bodies readjusted to standing still. They had been pushed hard the past few days and the bellies of the large beasts bulged with labored breathing. The driver was a stout man with cropped hair and a jutting chin. He directed his attention back to them, inspecting their hooves and bridles for signs of damage or wear. The profile of his pale face looked like a crescent moon, the kind you see in children’s stories with a face. That face smiled finding everything satisfactory as he patted each of the horses necks in turn, encouraging them to stillness. Standing he turned to look about his surroundings again, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the buildings and the few people mulling around the carriage. On the surface it just seemed like a normal town, winding down from another day of toiling in the hot southern sun.
Using gloved hands to beat the dust off his riding jacket, the buttons of which fastened together so tightly it was a mystery he could breath, he walked towards the back of the carriage continuing his survey. Just above his collar bones, his popped collar stood stiff below his ears, its only purpose was to keep the dirt from reaching the inside of his jacket. Now the fabric poked at the sides of his face as he turned his head first left then right. Dust flitted down as he beat about himself, leather smacking leather, creating a soft thudded smacking sound.
He turned his too narrow eyes back to The Oaken Tankard. The three-story wooden building stared back at the new arrivals. Its flat face was only interrupted by an overhang that covered a small front porch. The porch was in need of mild repairs, some of the floorboards were broken or had been ripped up in some places. Paint on the posts supporting the porches roof peeled and flaked off, the whole scene gave away the age of the building and the lack of attention it had received in the previous seasons. Above the covered porch was a sign in the shape of a shield hung between two of its eight windows. Carved into the splintered wood was a detailed outline of a tankard tilted at an angle so its edges overlapped the shields border giving the sign depth and perspective. The whole sign hung slightly askew and the paint that had once decorated it was now worn and washed by the sun and rain.
In contrast to the drab look of the building, every window glowed warmly with a bright yellow light making the Oaken Tankard stand out like a way beacon in a black night sky. Maybe other buildings hadn’t lit their evening laps yet, Daven thought to himself, but the surrounding buildings of Warden’s Retreat were essentially lifeless. Daven made a mental note as he scanned over them and brought his attention back to the inn. This sleepy town had seen little excitement and even less travelers since the fall of Drandor almost a century ago.
The Drandory had not grafted well into the Calvindey Empire. Even now the South was still a point of contention in regard to taxes and matters of military recruitment. Daven shook his head, the people of this land enjoyed the relative safety and infrastructure afforded by the empire but still refused to fully submit to the Empress. Even after they were given the opportunity to send delegations to the capital to partition on their behalf, many thought of this as the empires land only in a token fashion. In these Southern Lands, called the SouthLands, it was not uncommon to have martial law in place of the Empire Guard Force or for a town council to preside over matters instead of sending it northward for an official imperial judge to dull out sentences. Daven walked towards the inn, giving the street, carriage, and team of horses one final once over before stepping into The Oaken Tankard.
**********
Inside the cab of the painted carriage three women sat on violet carpeted cushions built into the seats and stuffed with the softest downy feathers that could be found in the north. The cushions could be lifted up to access storage and the carriage was large enough for each of the women to stretch their legs out without touching. Meribela looked across the cab at the other two women that accompanied her on this journey south. Ginny, the older woman, was rocking a baby soothingly in her arms. Her grey hair was was pulled back with a white bonnet cap in the fashion of palace servants. Ginny wore a brown long sleeved dress that had small stains of spit up, she didn’t seem to mind, or even notice. Meribela was glad for that, she was not ready to be spit up on. Out of a leathery face bright caring eyes peered down at the child in her arms. Her gentle touch with the babe made her the perfect nurse maid. She had been the nurse maid for several of the royal houses in the empire over the decades. The child in her arms looked like a porcelain doll, its rosy cheeks as soft as dumplings. For the moment it slept quietly in her arms, the gentle rapid breathing of a newborn child.
In contrast, beside the older woman, perched on the edge of the carriage seat, was Larksien. She was much younger and stood head and shoulders taller than the nurse maid. Her shaved head was cocked to one side, with her eyes closed no doubt she was trying to listen for any noise outside. Dissatisfied either at what she heard, or at not hearing anything, she opened her blue eyes and using two fingers to push a curtain back, peered outside. Her other hand tightly clutched the hilt of the sword which was sheathed in ornate metal resting in her lap. The polished silver sheath was carved with symbols that depicted mountains with birds flying around them. A golden eagle with its wings stretched above its head and its talons barred ready for attack had been fastened to the top of the sheath just below the hilt of the sword. She did not know, nor did Meribela tell her, but the sword was imbued with magic. A powerful talisman to give the one attuned to it vitality and strength. Now counting her fifty-ninth year Larksien looked and felt no more than her late twenties when she had received the weapon.
Light in the carriage glinted off the golden bird of prey as Larksien moved slightly to get a better angle. The golden eagle was the sign of the High Seat of the House of Calvindey, the Eagle’s Perch Throne and the Wearer of the Crown of Talons. It had been a gift from Meribela herself to Larksien the day she joined her service as head of the guard. The Eagle had become such a strong symbol of power for Meribela’s house in the years after conquering the five kingdoms that children still tell stories about how the empress could turn into a giant eagle and had done so in battle. Stories never drift far from the truth though, Meribela thought, closing her eyes and leaning her head back to rest on the seat. Her eyes burned from exhaustion and her eyelids flickered slightly, she wasn’t sure if keeping them closed or open would hurt more. Her golden hair was pulled back in a tight braid with wisps of loose baby hairs smoothed down from sweat hugged her face.
Her hands cupped her stomach, it was constrained by the fabric of a dress not made for a woman of her current size, though its tight fit had been ideal for concealing what she was attempting to hide. The sleeves of the blue and yellow dress clung to her arms and ran down to the back of her hands ending in white lace fringe that covered her knuckles, a small loop was sewn into the sleeves and wrapped snugly around her middle fingers. The material had left her arms uncomfortably hot during her time in the carriage throughout the Southern region of the Empire. She would have changed if the ride had been less bumpy. She was painfully aware of how far taxes had not stretched in regards to infrastructure and road maintenance to the SouthLands. Before leaving the capitol she had one master seamstress tailor-make new garments fit for her stay in the SouthLands, but they were still stowed away in the undercarriage. With their stop and go pattern of traveling, only the essentials were retrieved for these brief rests. They would be here long enough to eat, sleep, buy supplies, if need be, and get back on the road.
She breathed a sigh of relief causing the other women to stop what they were doing and look up at the bulging woman. She had decided keeping her eyes shut burned less so she didn’t notice their concerned glances. At least they were stopped for now, she thought wearily. Being bounced and jostled around had made her violently sick that evening and her face still had a green hue to it. Meribela fought with conflicting thoughts about Daven. I could wring his neck for pushing so hard and making me bloody sick. Well, the man was only trying to do his job after all. But he didn’t have to be so bloody stubborn about getting us to my estates. Really though, he’s done a great job so far. I’d like to see him try to give up his stomach in a moving bounce house like he mad me do. That line of thought made her feel queasy, she hurried to brush those thoughts aside and think about something more relaxing.
Daven Hawthorne anxiously wanted to get Meribela and the other women to their destination unharmed and as soon as possible. He had made that clear when he realized he had the true empress in his carriage. Under normal circumstances a team of carriages filled with servants and belongings would have accompanied her. She also would have brought two or three of her top company of guards. But this trip was different, this trip was secret. In a coordinated effort six other carriages, all with accompanying guards on horse back, had also fled the Capital when she did. None of them had known if they carried the true empress or not. The plan was that all would ride forth with a specific destination and none would know until they arrived who they carried. Unfortunately, her number of guards had slowly dwindled over the past twenty days. The last seven fell three towns over making sure that the carriage could escape from hired bandits. It was only then that Meribela reveal herself to Daven, and the man had looked like he was going to have a stroke. Now without protection from the full guard anxiety was causing his nerves to jitter.
A sudden knock at the carriage door closest to Larksien made all of them jump, all except Larksien. The nurse maids hard work and effort seemed ruined as the baby began to fuss once more. The knock was three quick successions followed by two slower ones, the sign that Daven was on the other side of the door marking it safe to unlock. Larksien slide the bolt on the door with a metallic pop and cracked the door open a sliver. The abrupt opening of the door caused the man to take a step back. Meribela studied Ginny as she attempted to soothe the baby again. Putting the tip of her pinky into its mouth, she hummed softly and rocked it back and forth. Leaning closer to the small opening Daven spoke, “Blessed be the name of the Empresses, the High Seat of the House of Calvindey, The Eagles Per…”
“Daven.” Meribella cut in, a touch of exasperation sneaking into her tone. “Thank you for your allegiance but right now I just need to put my swollen feet up and get some fresh air. Are we stopping or not?” She brought a hand up to her forehead and let it rest there massing her temples. She was looking towards the door with fatigue, her eyes half closed. She was trying to be patient, really she was, but today had just pushed her to a limit and she was ready for some rest.
“Yes, well umm,” the little man stammered trying to recover his poise. “Here I got these for you Empress, supposedly all the women here use them.” He produced three fans and slid them through the cracked door. They had a sanded wooden handle that was smooth to the touch and a simple flat piece of wood was laid into the top of that handle, like a paddle, a flimsy paddle. Larksien grabbed the fans, inspecting them for just a moment before holding them out for Meribela to choose one. Pulling from reserves of energy she released her temples and grabbed the closest one. She started eagerly fanning herself, some of the hair that was slicked down popped loose and danced in the fabricated breeze. It didn’t make the air much cooler and it could not remove the moisture but moving air was a precious thing in the stagnant carriage. The man huddled closer to the carriage door and held up two fingers before he continued talking.
“In regards to a place to stay Empress, they have rooms for us but we might be split into two different rooms on two different levels. Personally, I don’t like it but the fella behind the counter says that he doesn’t have rooms on account of a hunting party also rode in earlier today.” He wrung his hands together nervously as he wait for a response; he did not want to upset any of the women. If it had been up to him they would have traveled on through the night, although that would have probably meant buying new horses. He could not, in good conscience, drive the team any harder than he already had today. But they were just another days ride from the Empress’s estates.
Lalrksien, looked past the nervous man into the street as she started on him, “You drove this carriage over hill country all day with no regard to who was inside of it,” then she fixed her gaze on him. “And the first words out of your mouth were not an apology? Daven, I have half a mind to have you stripped of any rank you have and flogged publicly.” Larksien snapped. Her voice was icy but no louder than the soft noises of the baby beside her. The man’s eyes popped and he gaped at the woman, it wouldn’t be the first time she had made such a thing happen to someone that had displeased her. Meribela felt bad for him, she couldn’t help but interject. After all, he was just doing his job.
“Larksien, honest, you’re too hard on the man. He was just trying to get us off the road before night time.” All the regal Meribela had lacked earlier came back into her voice now. She was sitting up a bit more to, looking like the ruler she was and not a rag doll that had been tossed in a washing bucket all afternoon. “Daven,” she continued in a soft voice, “we’re going to stay here tonight, can you please take the coin back to this establishment and get our rooms ready.”
“Yes Empress,” Daven said bobbing his head with gratitude and a touch of eagerness to get away from Larksien. “I’ll go get the rooms secured. I’ll also see if I can find a quieter entrance than the front door.” Meribela gave the slightest nod of her head in approval while working the fan more. The carriage shifted as Larksien got up and opened the door to outside the wider. The tall woman was slightly slumped over even with house spacious the cabin was. Wiping sweat from his brow, Daven stepped back as she started to climb out of the door, clipping her sword on her belt as she did. Larksien towered over the little man, she was taller than most men, but Daven was already short making her look like a giant standing beside him. Larksien pushed coins into the man’s hand, not exactly with a gentle touch and he started for the inn to get their rooms.
With the man out of sight Larksien stretched, fanning herself with one of the wooden paddle shaped fans. Like Meribela, she had roasted during their ride South. Her padded jacket armor and plate male fastened on top of it was stuffy at best and heat stroke inducing at worst. She stretched her rigid muscles as she turned her head slowly surveying the area around them, intently looking at everything. Larksien didn’t care what the driver had to say about this area, she was going to feel it out for herself. She had always bet on herself and to feel confident that they would be okay she wasn’t just going to take his word. Plus she thought he was a rocked brain horse loving idiot. Cooly leaning back against the carriage she cracked the carriage door and talked out of the side of her mouth. All the while keeping her eyes roaming. “We would probably be safer sleeping in the carriage in the stables as we have before,” she eyed a hooded figure sauntering towards the Oaken Tankard. His cloak was different dark hues of greens, browns, and grays. Probably one of the men from the hunting party she decided and started scanning for more potential threats.
Meribela thought about Larksien’s suggestion as the nurse laid the baby down on the carriage seat where Larksien had been sitting, adding to the conversation the nurse said, “We need to find this child more milk too.” Her soft voice glided soothingly. She began unfastening the cloth wrapped about the baby’s bottom to clean it up and replace it with a new one. The sickly sweet smell of the child’s diaper gagged Meribela, her senses were heightened so she had an excuse but it made Larksien wince as the smell wafted out of the hot carriage. Unaffected by the smell the nurse continued, “What we picked up at Spring’s Crossing is almost gone.”
“That won’t be a problem for too much longer.” Meribela said with a laugh cupping her swollen breasts, “I already feel like I could feed him if I had too.”
The nurse looked at Meribela, a fond reminiscence in her voice, probably thinking back to her own time of child rearing, “Mother is just another word for miracle worker your highness. You’ll be surprised what your body will do for a baby. If…”
“That’s all well and good,” Larksien broke in a little too suddenly. Conversations like this made her uncomfortable Meribela realized. She had never married and saw The Way of The Sword as her lover, children were a foreign idea for her. In all their time together Meribela didn’t even think she had heard her talk about a man once. Larksien crossed her arms staring at an alleyway. “Between Daven and I, we can both take watches and still get rest.” She looked back inside the carriage for confirmation when she didn’t get a reply. Meribela just starred blankly at her.
“Yes, I very much want to stay here, at least until morning. I want to sleep on a bed again, and it will let all of us rest, including the horses. Tomorrow we can load up with supplies and if favor grants it, we’ll be out of here early and sleeping in my estates tomorrow night.” A gentle smile touched Meribela’s face as she talked about her estates. She longed to be in the comfort of her own dwelling, ready to do what she had come all of this way to do. She had faced armies and conquered five kingdoms establishing the first empire that East Kert had ever seen. She had traversed the political intrigue of her own courts and faced social and economical challenges with bravery and poise. But what she had come all this way to do was anxiously exciting and nerve racking all at the same time. She felt in her heart it would be one of the hardest things she would ever do and in response to all of these anxious thoughts her stomach responded by making her nauseated. “ I want to be quite for a time.” Meribela said as she fanned herself with more ferocity.
“As you command Empress, we will take our post here.” Larksein said formally.
Meribela knew she and the others could and would sleep under the stars, but this inn had to be safer than in the wild and in a place unknown to them. And anything had to be better than sleeping in this carriage she told herself.
Larksien looked back towards the alley, whatever had been there was gone now. She wrinkled her nose, a disgusted look on her face. It didn’t feel right, something in the air felt off, but then again, the air felt off. It was hot and sticky, her shaved head beaded with sweat and breathing seemed heavier this far South for some reason. She smacked the side of her neck, the sharp clap of sweaty hands hitting sweaty flesh. Pulling her hand back a small bug stuck to her palm, squished into nothing but black and red. Her disgusted face turned to anger as she wiped her hand on one of the wheels of the carriage.
“Are you alright?” came Meribela’s voice from inside the carriage. Nothing could really hurt Larksien, she thought to herself.
“One of those SouthLand bugs got my neck.” Larksien said, scowling at her hand.
When Daven came back the three women had prepared their things to stay for the night, he helped them carry everything in. With luck, he had gotten the only rooms left that would accommodate them. Daven brought the group around the corner of the building into a court yard shared by the entrance to the stables. At the back of the inn was a wash basin and a line where sheets and laundry barely moved in the damp southern air. The back of the inn had a porch on it too, though it was not covered and much of the courtyard was paved with natural paving stones spread out like islands in a sea of dirt and grass. Daven had told the inn keeper, a gruff looking man who couldn’t stop sneering at them as they came through the back, that they needed two beds per room. He had charged extra to move a bed into one of the rooms. Leading them in through the back door beside the kitchen they used a less traveled wooden staircase to make their way to the second floor.
The Oaken Tankard was like most inns she had seen, though truth be told she had rarely ever stayed in one until this trip. The sleeping rooms were small and cramped and were on every floor, including the main level. The main floor also had a large central area for food and entertainment, including a large fireplace, doors leading to the back courtyard next to the doors that lead into the kitchen. And behind the bar a door that Meribela thought must lead to the inn keeper’s personal chambers, if rooms at an inn could be called chambers. She supposed that the inn keeper had no family, there didn’t seem to be anyone else there working or assisting him. Once they made their way to the second floor they quietly confirmed the game plan before going their separate ways for the night. The women would sleep in one room secretly.
The other room they had paid extra for the second bed to be brought into would in fact remain empty. Daven had planted the idea that he and Meribela would be sleeping in that room together while the two other women and the baby shared the other room. Though the man would secretly sleep in the carriage, letting the horses take turns unbridled so they could all get some rest too. The plan was to keep half of the team hooked up in case they needed to move quickly and Larksien would keep watch in the ladies’ room. This wasn’t the first time they had used this plan. She had rehearsed planned escape routes in her head and what they would do in different situations while preparing for bed in the small room.
With her night shift on and sweat already starting to pool in the creases of her body she desperately wanted this to be a normal night. She said a soft prayer for the safety of her party before checking the door locks one last time. Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she sat down on the bed. After working the muscles in her shoulders and knuckling her lower back she tried to relax as she melted into the bed for what she hoped would be a night of much needed rest. It was a good plan, was the last thought she had before falling asleep, the child in her belly deciding it was time to kick and move about. She smiled wearily as she laid on her side with wadded up blankets in between her legs. It was a good plan, and hopefully they wouldn’t have to use it.
