Strife & Valor: Book II of The Rorke Burningsoul Saga Regina Watts (e book reader online .TXT) 📖

Fluttering back into the hallway, Lively returned in a matter of seconds with a package tied in twine. “Here’s that old dress I was telling you about,” she said brightly, setting it on the nightstand beside smiling Valeria. “You let me know if it doesn’t fit or you don’t want it, but I think it’d ought to suit you. I’d have tried to scrounge up more for your friends, but none of ‘em seem the dress wearing type.”

“Your generosity is truly without parallel, Madame,” said Valeria, smiling softly. Of the mind that all her well-behaved guest were good as family, Lively patted the elf’s hand without a second thought for the fact that she wore nothing but a blanket.

“It’s nothing, dearie! Every man had ought to treat all strangers with at least this much kindness…never know when a guest might be an angel in disguise, or one of the gods themselves.”

Then, she was gone again. Valeria investigated the contents of the package as I smeared a bit of long-missed butter, that greatest of luxuries, upon one of the supplied pieces of toast. “How long this thing is! It must be quite difficult to move about in…I’ll save it for tomorrow, once I’m more used to riding.”

Translation: the Materna was too famished to delay breakfast by figuring out how to dress in these new garbs. I moved the tray upon the foot of the bed and we feasted together there, nearly every bite punctuated with a cry of Valeria’s delight at the freshness of foods like eggs and even the small oranges that were quite literally rarer than gold in the Nightlands. Halfway through, Indra and Odile drifted over. The evening wore on into night and I explained a little something of horseback ridings’ general principles until Branwen joined us, looking flushed and relieved to have bathed at last.

“It feels good to take a walk under an open sky, doesn’t it? Though—we seem to have caused a stir.” Branwen laughed, shutting the door and dropping into a creaky old chair at the table in the corner.

Valeria looked at me carefully. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“We’ll have to see,” I told them. “Let’s just try to keep our heads down and avoid any fuss.”

“That’s sounding pretty impossible by now,” said the high elf. “The manager of the bathhouse approached me and asked if I were the elf traveling around with the durrow…I denied it at first, because I wasn’t sure what her intentions were, but she convinced me she was friendly after a minute or two of talking. She told me that if you three need to use her facilities after hours tonight, you should go knock on the door of the little house behind the main building.”

The durrows’ voices arose in pleased tones while I said, “We’re lucky the citizens here have a friendly curiosity, rather than a dangerous one. Regardless of who already knows what, we would do well to proceed with caution.”

How hard it was to avoid detection, though! We would inevitably draw attention by moving about the town at night—especially by engaging in horseback lessons at such hours. It seemed to me that it would behoove us (ahem) to engage in such activities as far away from the town itself as we could. So, while the durrow bathed, I took one of the two stallions out for a ride around the perimeter of the village and a few of its surrounding ranches.

The land of the region was well-maintained and populated, and it became apparent soon that the only reasonable location for such lessons would be near the woods at the base of the mountain. From that distance we would neither have to worry about prying eyes nor making noise, and the terrain forbade farming. No neighbors, then. We would be able to conduct a few lessons in peace for several nights in a row, then take off for Skythorn as soon as my armor was ready.

Of course…just who would be taking off with me still remained to be confirmed. When I returned to the stables attached to the inn, the well-trained but energetic stallion pleased to have been given a bit of exercise after a day of inactivity, I was just thinking about trying the other when I found Branwen already there, patting and whispering to a champagne-colored mare.

“She’s a gentle one,” Branwen told me, a faint smile on her lips as she gestured toward the stabled horse. I nodded, guiding the stallion into the empty space beside them.

“They all seem very well-bred—a testament to the family who loaned them to us. Would we had a bit more in the way of gold! I’d leave them a tip for their fine expertise.”

“We could have more gold, you know.”

“Branwen.”

I knew what she was getting at right away and hoped the stern tone of my voice would ward her off from the subject, but she continued nonetheless with her eyes wide and her tone emphatic.

“You think those durrow aren’t planning something much the same with us, Rorke? You think they won’t just use you to acquire that ring you all keep talking about, then leave you behind—or, worse, enslave you again?”

“They would have a hard time enslaving me up here, with me the picture of health and El’ryh farther away all the time.”

“Who knows what spells or potions these cunning dark elves could produce. You can’t trust them, Rorke. They live beneath Urde and away from the light of the sun for a reason.”

“What an absurd thought! You don’t know the first thing about them, Branwen. The durrow are just like you—surely you can see that by now, especially after last night.”

“The people of Klexus have nothing to do with slavery,” she said tersely. “Nor do we engage in breeding programs, nor do we consort with chthonic deities. We are happy, healthy people, well-balanced and fair-minded.”

“So fair-minded that you