Page 5 of The Pastel Prince

I stepped into the large area, placing my boots along the small walkway that led into the room. The walls were filled with small alcoves, each one fitted with roosts that held a large black bird. The floor was thick with droppings, the smell pungent. The ravens knew me well. Several had become rather close friends during my lengthy stay here. One, a male I had named Nin, cooed at me.

I held out my arm and he left his roost to land on my forearm. “I have need of a friend to accompany me,” I told him, his ebony feathers shining blue in the bright sun streaming through the wide open thresholds to the sky. “Your job will be one of great import. Would you like to journey with me?”

The bird cocked its head, studying me, his emotions calm, thoughtful. He cackled at me, a craggy sound that I felt meant he was willing. Bonding mentally with the bird meant he would be able to find me anywhere in Melowynn. That was a small but not inconsequential talent I possessed, passed to me from my father. Someday, perhaps, we could communicate wholly and our bond would be that much stronger, but for now, his ability to locate me would be imperative. There were those in the druid ranks, much more advanced in speaking with bird and beast, who said the birds that migrated used the sun and stars to guide them, much like our fearless elven sailors. Those outside our clans scoffed at such things, but if my father, a wilder warden, claimed it to be truth, then I accepted it as such.

“Excellent.” I stroked his back, and he took to wing, leaving the rookery to soar into the air. He would observe from afar, I suspected. The ravens here were semi-domesticated. They knew they had a good life here, with food, water, and shelter, so they lingered. Still, they carried a glimmer of the wild in their breasts, a sparkle of Danubia in their gaze. They were too cleverto allow people to strip them of their wild nature entirely, but they let us think we had tamed them. I knew better even if my skills didn’t allow me to speak with them.

With Nin at the ready, I made the long, lonely trip down the tower to the inner bailey. Wagons filled with food for the castle sat inside the walls, farmers and guards talking and unloading provisions. Oxen and mules that had pulled the laden carts over the drawbridge lowed and brayed. The air was thick with the smell of animals, wood fires, and sweat. A normal day at the keep. Nary a soul knew, or would probably care, about a possible sickness among the Rhaes so far away. Widow Poppy argued with a fishmonger. Pretty maids worked on scrubbing clothes while the guards made numerous passes of the women. A gaggle of amber geese, fat and sassy, waddled about honking at whomever dared to get too close. It seemed as if nothing was wrong in the farthest reaches of Melowynn. I was relatively sure Umeris was sitting on things until he had more news. There would be no point in panicking the people if only a few strange elves fell ill and died.

Bitterness left a rank taste in my mouth.

Across the way stood Aelir, his chin high, bright blue eyes shiny, holding the reins of his lovely dapple mare, Atriel. Beside him stood V’alor, his copper armor gleaming, his spine straight.

My heart clenched seeing the boy. I hurried to him, uncaring of the sideways glances tossed my way. I dropped to my knees to hug the lad. He released the reins to melt into my arms, his breath choppy as it flitted across my neck.

“I had hoped to see you before I left,” I whispered, eyes closed as I held him close.

“Grandfather told me over the midday meal that you were leaving,” he replied, his voice tight and thick. I nodded. He burrowed in more closely, much as he used to as a toddler when the summer storms would roll into Renedith. With no motherto soothe his fears, he had come to me. Danubia knows Umeris would not have given the child succor. He would have berated him and sent him to his rooms without supper. “I don’t want you to go. The badger cubs are about to be born. Youpromisedwe would venture into the woods to check on them in their burrow.”

I eased away from him. His golden hair clung to his wet cheeks, so I thumbed it behind his tapered ears.

“I said we would venture to the burrow to see if Mother Badger felt we were kind enough to see her kits. Badgers are not known for their eagerness to befriend…well, anyone,” I replied and got a gruff chuckle from V’alor. “I am saddened that we will not be able to make the trip afield, but I must leave. My people may be falling ill.” I cupped his chin so he would look at me and not the buttons on my shirt. “Iwillreturn.”

“Truly? Do you vow to return? I would see you make your promise.”

And so, kneeling in the mud and donkey shit, I pledged to Aelir that I would come back to him in one fashion or another.

“I vow that I shall return to this keep when I am able,” I said, placing a fist to my chest and dropping my chin.

He seemed placated. If I could return to the castle I would, not only because I was goddess bound to do so but because I wanted to ensure that the future ruler of Renedith grew to a man knowing that all elves were good, strong, and equal in all ways. He already had a great love of the wild things and their homes. Even cranky badgers.

Aelir bobbed his head, sniffled, and stepped back, taking the reins he had let go of to hand them to me.

“Atriel is a good horse, surefooted, calm. She’s always liked you, so I think you should ride her home.” Aelir glanced at V’alor and got a curt nod. His wobbly lower lip grew firmer. “We’ve placed things in her saddlebags for you. V’alor foundyou some armor in the armory as well as some daggers that he would not let me test out.”

I peeked around the side of the horse to see two bulging bags secured behind a finely made saddle.

“Thank you both for your kindness. I’ll take great care of everything you have loaned me and promise to return all of your gifts as they were given to me,” I said, smiling down at the boy and up at his guardian. “Keep a close eye on him.”

“Always,” V’alor replied, his tone softer than usual. “And you keep a close eye on the wilds. They run deep, dark, and dangerous.”

“The wilds are my home. They will welcome back their wandering son with grace and affection.” V’alor, also city born and raised, seemed unsure but he said nothing to the contrary. “Do not let him venture off to the badger burrow until I return. Mother Badger will not take kindly to him poking his nose into her nursery.”

One side of V’alor’s mouth ticked up, a large hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. “I shall do my best.”

I placed a hand on Aelir’s head, bowed to my liege, and then swung up into the saddle. Aelir moved back as I settled into the supple leather that would cradle my skinny backside for a long time.

“I have permission to pull a man from the ranks to accompany you,” V’alor said as I bent down to pet the mare’s strong neck while letting my emotions flow over her. She whickered softly in reply.

“I have companions that will enjoy the trip far more than anyone forced to venture into the Verboten. But thank you all the same.” I brought my attention back to the boy. “Aelir, I shall see you soon. Keep reading the texts of the old ways while I am gone.”

“I will, I promise.” The boy reached out to touch my left boot resting in a stirrup. As a child I had ridden before without bridle or saddle, just a blanket, but when in Renedith…

I patted the mare. She shook her head, brown mane tightly braided as was the way here in the city, and headed to the main gate without any lead from me on the reins. When her hooves began to strike the wood of the main gate, I turned in the saddle slightly. Aelir was close to V’alor’s side, head high, waving. I lifted a hand, sucked in a shaky breath, and rode over the moat as a raven circled overhead.

The long journey back home had begun.

ATRIEL WAS A FINE HORSEjust as Aelir had claimed.

---