Page 39 of The Pastel Prince

Beirach pulled V’alor aside. They spoke in hushed whispers, then V’alor waved at a pair of bailey guards lingering about trying to speak to the washer maids. The twosome untied the travois and carried the body of Maverus into the castle proper, heading down into the dungeons where it was cooler.

“You may go with him if you wish,” I called over my shoulder, but Beirach shook his head and fell into step with us.

“So, V’alor, what are the qualifications for joining the royal guard?” Tezen asked as we entered the castle, trailing behind an energetic boy with sticky fingers, dirty knees, and the smell of sunshine and sweat on his skin, which is just how young boys should be.

“Well, one requires a stout heart, a good sword arm, and a willingness to give their life to protect those who rule the vills,” V’alor replied as we entered the castle, the familiar sights of servants bustling about, the shine on the stone floors, and the rich smell of meat on the spit made me smile inwardly. While I would not choose to call this keep my home, it had been for many years, and I found a deep fondness for the castle and those who dwelled in it had grown in my absence.

“I have all of those! Plus, I can handle my ale!” Tezen exclaimed as we wound our way through the castle to find the solarium. The glass and wood doors were closed, two guards posted on either side as always.

“Then when you are done with the grand advisor come seek me out in the barracks. We will speak in-depth about your qualifications,” V’alor said to the pixie darting back and forth before us. “For now, we shall leave you to your audience. Aelir, come with me. It is time for your dancing lessons with Madame Woodbreeze.”

The young heir rolled his eyes and sighed forlornly. “I’d much rather visit the badger den,” he mumbled before giving me one last strong hug, then shuffling off with his ever watchful guard at his side.

I turned to look at Beirach and Tezen. We looked as if we had just ridden for days with no soap. We smelled of horse sweat and elf sweat, and our clothes were covered with grit.

“I know we do not look our best but have no worries. This will be a short visit where he will praise us and then send us off.”

“Wouldn’t have minded a minute to scrub my tuppy before being paraded past this old goat,” Tezen muttered. The guard to my left choked back a snicker.

“Umeris is not known for his patience,” I said and ran a hand over my dusty armor and tried to brush some of the dirt from my braids. It was not exactly successful.

“He is ready for you,” the guard who had choked off a laugh told us, tugging open the solarium door.

Beirach was incredibly quiet. I could pick up nothing of his thoughts. My head was too filled with the crush of incoming dialog from every creature and plant within the castle. I’d learned to sort through the onslaught somewhat on the journey back to Renedith. I had a long way to go to fully control the rush of dialog that seemed to be present all the time. I’d never known sheep in the pasture were such gossips or that the ravens in the rookery had so much to say about the quality of their corn mash. I could not wait to get home, to the woods, and study a bit under the elder druids who communed with animals. Beirach, as skilled as he was, had no words of wisdom for me. His skills lay more in healing, shifting into an elk for battle, and kissing away the frown lines that appeared when we rode past cattle complaining about the milkmaid’s cold hands.

“Come in and be quick about it,” Umeris called from where he sat upon a settee, his robes dark blue with white stitching, his hair smooth as a morning lake, falling down to his ankles and resting on the floor artfully. The plants all began to speak to me, the flowers opening wider, the vines reaching out to touch me, all asking for more water, more sun, and more air.

I drew a deep breath, my nose wrinkling, and shoved the ideations to one side. Doing so helped, nominally.

Beirach touched my lower back, his hand slipping under my armor to rub a circle. His touch did wondrous things to me. I calmed and focused on corralling the plants wants into a smaller space that I could attend to later. Umeris would not be put off so that I could converse with the bright yellow roses about aphids.

“Are you well?” Beirach asked in a whisper as we walked carefully around pots of imported plants that all seemed cranky today.

“The roses are upset about aphids,” I relayed and got a smile from Beirach.

“As well as they should be,” he replied, removing his hand from my back. I missed his warmth instantly. Umeris sat on his settee, papers and scrolls on either side of him, his gaze flitting between the three of us as we stopped and bowed respectfully.

“So, you have returned. The clerics informed me the curse has been ended. The body of the dark mage who acted against our people is in our dungeon and will be incinerated by night’s end, and the king has—”

“Grand Advisor, I cannot allow you to burn the body of my son,” Beirach spoke up, his shoulders squaring as Umeris drew back in surprise. “Our goddess demands the body be placed in the arms of the trees for her to claim. We would have done so before coming to your vills, but your summons to see us overrode the trip back to the Verboten.”

Tezen sat on my shoulder, a thin white braid in her hands, mumbling something in pixie that I could barely hear.

Umeris ran a hand over his long face. “I find this practice of throwing the deceased into trees to rot wholly unsettling and foolish. But, as it is your way, I will grant you that boon. I will not have the necromancer left alone, though. There have been wizened dark mages who can create deep sleeps that they cast upon themselves to mimic death. His body will be placed under a protective spell while it is in my vills. Then on the morrow, youwill remove it from my home and take it into the woods where you may toss it wherever you wish. Does this please you and your goddess, Archdruid Dreyath?”

I grunted at the discourteous tone and got a sour look from Umeris. Tezen gave my plait a sound yank.

“It does. Many thanks for your wisdom and acceptance of the ways of other faiths,” Beirach said with humility and practiced ease. I would need him to teach me how to be so calm when dealing with people like Umeris Stillcloud. “I shall leave in the morning with my son and see him properly laid to rest.”

Umeris nodded and turned his sharp gaze to me. “You have done well in ending this situation. The king has been informed of your work and wishes to pass along a reward to you and those who rid Melowynn of a malevolent being. Each member of your party will be given a thousand gold pieces for their service to our most cherished cousins, who call the woodlands home.”

“That is most generous of his majesty,” I replied and got a curt nod. I’d not heard my people called “cherished cousins” in an age but took the kindness as I hoped it had been intended. “I would ask that Bissori and Agathe Bronmura of the town of…” I looked at Beirach in loss. “What is the name of the hamlet they call home?”

“I am not sure it has a proper name as small as it is,” he replied earnestly. “The dwarves that come down from the Witherhorn call it Vuldam so that is as good a name as any.”

Umeris seemed wholly unimpressed.

“I ask that coin be sent to Bissori and Agathe Bronmura of the hamlet of Vuldam for Bissori battled at our side and Agathe healed my brother who was gravely injured,” I stated while trying to shake a vine that had found my fingers and was slowly wrapping itself around my wrist while asking for a touch of pot ash on its soil. Some plants were very demanding.

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