Page 34 of The Ivory King

“I have not proposed matrimony to Lady Frostleaf yet. She may well decline my offer,” I stated with little to no hope of that happening. She would be pleased to take my hand in marriage. It would free her from the temple life and return her to the genteel life of nobility she had once had. And if she were my bride, it would—if all went as my grandfather wished—make her Queen of Melowynn. The small breakfast of nuts and withered buckle berries we’d foraged this morning turned in my stomach.

“She will not decline, my lord, for she is a noblewoman and knows her duty,” Pasil soothed, but his words did not ease my discomfort.

“We should begin the climb,” Beiro interjected. “The nights come quickly on the mountains and it will take us a goodly part of the day to ride the narrow paths that lead to the Temple of Celinthe.”

Since there was no way I could postpone the inevitable, I gave Beiro a curt nod. We began climbing upward, back and forth, following firm roads cut into each steppe. The first two dozen or so steppes were alive with honey bees and small pink butterflies. Pebble gray birds that lived on the rocky crags of the Witherhorn darted amongst the flowers, trying to catch the rosy winged beauties that moved from purple flower to purple flower. The scent on the steppes was amazing. Rich and headywith a subtle touch of smoke and camphor, this lavender was highly coveted throughout Melowynn and only grew here on the steppes. The soil was blessed by Ihdos, the sisters said, and was maintained with holy water that was carried from the temple to the hundreds of thousands of plants daily. We passed many elven sisters wearing plain brown work robes with yokes upon their shoulders, each with a filled bucket. Hundreds of bark-toned forms could be seen on each steppe as the day’s chores of watering, weeding, and feeding the flowers took place. What they fertilized the lavender with was a secret that only the Sisters of the Steppes knew.

As we rode higher, the air chilled, but the sun was warm on our faces. Each steppe up brought us closer to the temple grounds, and while I was eager to check on the news of the kingdom, I was dreading meeting my friend. And that made me even more angry over the course my life had taken. I should be happy to meet the young lady who had been a good and kind friend over many years. Her letters had been joyous, filled with good humor and sunshine, and always with a small packet of dried lavender for my bath.

Now I was apprehensive about seeing Raewyn, for our friendship would be forever altered.

Come midday, we reached the last steppe. The courtyard of the Temple of Celinthe was a tidy affair, with small beds of mountainous flowers, a huge garden overflowing with late-season vegetables such as squashes, round white pumpkins, and heads of purple cauliflower the size of a warrior’s shield. Deep brown eyes flashed before me. The pain of not knowing if V’alor still drew breath winded me. I eased my horse to a stop and slid off her back, my filthy feet hitting the well-packed earth. The sisters all stopped to stare at us, unsure of whether to offer a welcome or chase us off with brooms, for we did look like street urchins.

A tall woman, stately, in chaste tan robes, exited the mighty temple, her pointed ears dotted with small red gems. She was an older elf, wrinkled deeply. Her hair, which was worn short to her shoulders, was slate gray.

“My lord Aelir,” she said as she neared, her head lowering in deference. “We have awaited your arrival. I am Grand Cloisterer Eldacar. We have food, water, and rooms for you and your men.” Her sharp blue eyes darted to my two escorts. “We were informed that there would be two more?”

“They were waylaid but will arrive shortly,” I rushed to say. I could not think of any other outcome but that.

“Ah, then we will take your horses to our stables while you refresh yourself. Then we will meet for the evening meal after the nightly prayers. Sister Raewyn is most excited to meet you face-to-face. Come, this way.” She waved at the temple. The sun was now behind the spire, but the visage was no less striking.

“I wish to stay with the horses,” Beiro piped up. I gave him my leave to do so, then Pasil and I entered the temple. The inside was much different from the main temple in Celear, or even our smaller one in Renedith. This temple was cool, almost cold, and rounded as opposed to angular. Where the temple in Renedith had tidy rows of white wooden benches, this sanctum had small seats or mats on the cold stone floor. Several young sisters kneeled on the mats, brows touching the cold floor, as we entered.

They did not look up at us as we neared a massive tree that grew where a statue of Ihdos would be found in the Celear shrine. Here the face of Ihdos was carved into the thick, dark bark of a mighty trident hornbeam tree, the leaves vibrant silver. I gaped at the sight, for dark hornbeams were rare. Most had been cut from the sides of the mountains centuries ago by the dwarves. Knowing that this one survived was truly amazing. Late day sun shone through windows of clear glass.No colorations would be found in the lowland temples, for the tree needed no artificial enhancements as its natural beauty was divine.

“We will give thanks to Ihdos for your arrival, then we shall take you to your chambers to deal with your dispatches and to spend time with Lady Raewyn before the evening meal,” Cloisterer Eldacar whispered. I thought to argue with the grand cloisterer and insist the missives sent via raven be delivered to me immediately. Ihdos willing the elders may have picked another to wear the crown. However, my training forbade me from being disrespectful to a devoted sister, let alone a grand cloisterer, so we kneeled, Pasil behind me and Eldacar to my left. The familiar prayers fell from me even as my mind was elsewhere.

“Light of Ihdos, make me holy,

Save me from temptations,

Caste me from the night,

Carry me from the benightedness of the unenlightened,

Within your learned gates I find haven,

Never let my mind part from thee,

Shelter me in wisdom, sanctity, and literacy,

Lift me above the beasts to rule over them with gentle grace,

This I ask in the name of Ihdos, lord of all he surveys, wisest of all the gods.”

Rising with grace, the grand cloisterer smiled serenely, then bid one of the sisters on their knees to show us to our quarters. Pasil stayed close, his mood somber as we exited the high chapel to enter a smaller building, long, with many doors and small alcoves set back into the walls that held a small candle. The sister was silent, her eyes darting to us only when we reached a stout door.

“Your room, my lord,” she whispered.

“My lord would wish a bath and some clothes be found. We left our previous lodgings in a hurry. Also, a light meal, please. Fresh fruits, lean meat, and sweet wine.”

“Just some wine, please. I shall sup with the grand cloisterer,” I commented and ducked my head to Pasil, who knew me almost as well as V’alor, so he would not see the lines of distress carved into my brow. Distress that made eating unpalatable.

“Yes, my lord,” she replied and then sprinted off as if a demon from the inner depths were nipping at her heels.

“One moment, my lord,” Pasil said, opening the door and stepping in, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He swept through the room quickly but thoroughly, checking under the large bed and in the standing wardrobe of butter chestnut. “This should be suitable for you.”

There was a small window in the stone wall and a fireplace with a nicely banked fire. The sun shone on a small desk with an inkwell, quills, and a stack of fine vellum. I entered the small but well-appointed room and went straight to the desk. Four letters with my grandfather’s seal—swans set in dark red wax—awaited me. A soft rap at the door pulled my sight from the letter in my hand. Pasil opened it to allow a gaggle of sisters in brown robes wearing severely cut hair to enter. They brought with them a tub, soap, a firm bath brush, a plain hairbrush, drying rags of common linen, a simple brown robe for use outside as well as a burlap one for after my bath, and serviceable cocoa-colored slippers.

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