Page 14 of The Goblin Twins
A’bbni had settled into one of the soft chairs in the office with a book from off the shelf when a knock sounded at his door. He carefully got up to answer, finding the young porter there. “My lord, apologies for interrupting you, but Lord Kella is available to see you now.”
“Of course, thank you,” A’bbni said, following after the young man. He checked that the envelope was still in his pocket as he followed after him. “What is your name?”
The porter turned to look at him in surprise, then smiled a bit. Obviously, the question was not one he was often asked. “Johrenn, my lord.”
“Thank you, Johrenn,” A’bbni said, giving him a smile in return. It was nice to know someone on this ship. Hopefully no one would recognize him, he realized with a momentary panic, but that wasn’t exactly something he could do anything about right now. “Your Hanen-sha is excellent.”
The elf blushed, his ears dipping in modest pleasure. “Thank you, my lord.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “My father was the assistant to a translator. I learned several languages from him.”
“His work is commendable,” A’bbni said, and the young man flushed again, his step picking up just a little. He led A’bbni up the stairwell and out into the sunshine. There were crew members moving around controlling the sails and other things A’bbni was not familiar with, and there were several finely-dressed people on deck, both goblins and elves, who were obviously passengers. A’bbni quickly scanned their faces, trying to keep his own turned away, but he did not recognize any of them. They crossed the deck, the sun higher in the sky now and warming the air around them quickly. It would be quite hot by midday. The waves splashed against the boat as it moved smoothly through the water, little sprays of mist flying into the air and gently cooling the skin of the people it touched.
Johrenn led him all the way across the deck to another set of stairs. He motioned to one door. “That is the captain’s quarters. Captain Nehema has been captain of theHiyallen Wordanfor almost seven years now.”
A’bbni wondered how many times Captain Nehema had made the trip between Csereth and Kandrea’a. They went down another hallway and stopped in front of an elaborately carved door made of a stunning white wood that A’bbni had never seen before. Most of the wood in Hanenea’a was very dark, but this was almost pure white, with a few swirls through it that almost looked like marble. The depiction on the door was as if they were looking underwater at sea creatures swimming; A’bbni had no idea what all the creatures were. His knowledge of the sea was quite limited, beyond the occasional seafood on their dinner table. Perhaps there would be a book about it in his office library.
Johrenn knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” came a pleasant voice in Cserethian from inside.
Johrenn opened the door and stepped aside for A’bbni to enter, bowing his head. A’bbni stepped inside the lavish room, trying very hard not to stare. He was used to elegance and finery at the palace, but where the goblins favored warm, earthy colors, this room was bright with jewel tones on the walls, furniture, and carpet. The furniture seemed to be made from the same white wood as the door. “Vr Re’len An-Bersha of Har’lesh to see you, my lord.”
“Thank you, Johrenn, that will be all for now,” came the warm voice again, and A’bbni saw the speaker seated across the room at a large desk. Johrenn bowed and exited, closing the door behind him, and A’bbni found himself alone except for the man across the room. He took a deep breath and slowly approached the desk.
Lord Kella sat behind the white wood desk that was strewn with all manner of papers, ledgers, and a few tools A’bbni did not recognize. His head was bowed, his long hair black and loose around his shoulders. When he looked up, A’bbni found himself staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Lord Kella’s eyes were even more blue than the water they sailed upon, and his doublet was the same jeweled blue as his eyes, with tiny silver swirls embroidered into it, so fine they only could be seen when he moved and they caught the sunlight from the wide windows behind him. He was younger than A’bbni had expected, perhaps early thirties. A’bbni bowed his head and bent a knee in the goblin bow between two higher ranked members of society. “Lord Kella, thank you for meeting with me,” he said in Cserethian.
Kella’s dark brow lifted along with the corner of his mouth. “You speak Cserethian?”
“I do, my lord,” A’bbni replied. “I am quite fluent in it, but I know several other languages as well.”
“No, please, Cserethian will do. I am afraid my Hanen-vir is a little rusty,” Kella said.
So, Kella knew he had come from the palace if he knew A’bbni spoke a mix of Hanen-vir, the elevated dialogue of the palace, along with Hanen-sha, spoken by nobility. He wondered how much Kella actually knew; he guessed it was more than he himself.
A’bbni reached into his pocket and drew out the envelope, holding it out to Kella with another bow of his head. “I was instructed to give this to you, my lord.”
Kella took it, motioning for A’bbni to sit in a chair in front of the desk. A’bbni sat as Kella examined the seal, then picked up a silver letter opener to break it. “You did not read it?”
“No, my lord.”
Kella gave him a small smile. “I suppose I should commend your honesty, if not your wisdom.”
A’bbni tried not to feel offended, glancing down at his hands as Kella opened the letter and scanned it. It took him a few minutes, and A’bbni found himself alternating between watching Kella and looking around the room at all the beautiful details. The shelves built into the walls were all hand-carved, with swirls that looked like ocean waves. On the shelves were a variety of books and knickknacks, a few model sculptures, and a few sea creatures that seemed to be frozen in lifelike suspension.
Kella set down the letter and turned to him. “I am sorry to hear of the death of your Father, Your Reverence.”
“Thank you,” A’bbni said softly, trying very, very hard to not picture his Father’s decapitated head on the table next to him.
“I am sure you have many questions.” Kella stood up and crossed over to a little table nearby that held a decanter and several beautifully cut crystal glasses. “Umberian wine, may I tempt you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Kella poured the dark wine into a glass and carried it over to A’bbni, then sat down on the edge of his desk. “Please forgive me for not indulging myself,” he said, resting a hand lightly on the underside of his stomach, and A’bbni could see the slight swell of Kella’s belly against the soft, supple leather of his breeches.
“Congratulations, my lord,” A’bbni said, lifting his glass in a toasting gesture.
“Thank you. How much do you know, Your Reverence?”
“Assume I know nothing,” A’bbni said, taking a sip from the glass. Umberian wine was sweet and also expensive. Probably like everything in this room.
“Fair enough. To start, my Father is Lord Ashtor Arvay. He is one of the most prominent ferriers on the continent.”
