Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1) (28 page)

BOOK: Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)
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Taking the, none too subtle, hint, Janen grabbed his bow, “You can tend Prince too,” he called to Syngar as he left the creek and headed into the bush.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Caris wandered through the shade of the tall trees, occasionally stopping to add a few mushrooms or brightly coloured petals to her already packed satchel. Her mind was only half on her task. Ever since her conversation with Amarin the previous afternoon, Caris had found it hard to focus on anything.

The climb down the swinging rope ladder in the evening gloom had been terrifying, but Caris had made it without mishap. Most of the elves were already gathering below for their evening meal, but Caris had found herself completely lacking the emotional energy for company. She had grabbed a few leaves from Amarin’s workrooms; confident Amarin wouldn’t mind, and had gone back to the solitude and relative comfort of her own.

Caris was not sure what she was supposed to think or feel about Amarin’s revelations, and spent most of her time in a wash of numb bewilderment. Sleep had come easily to her exhausted state but it had not been a restful night. Caris had tossed and turned, dream after dream crowding upon each other, making little sense and leaving her to wake tense and groggy in the morning.

She had begged Jeniel not to take offence by her wish to gather alone in the morning, and Jeniel had let her go without concern. Caris had wandered for most of the morning without resolving anything. She was beginning to realise that a large part of her problem was that there was nothing for her to resolve. She couldn’t work through a set of issues to reach a solution. She could do nothing to influence the situation.

She resented having her life stolen from her, as she saw it, in being marked as a seer. She didn’t see how being a seer could be called a gift, or how it could be of benefit to anyone, but she had long been resigned to being different and there was no point in kicking up a fuss about it now.

Healing evoked completely opposite feelings within her. She longed desperately for Amarin’s words to be true, but couldn’t really believe them possible.
After all, not even Amarin was definite I do have the gift; she just thought it possible given a few coincidences.
A feeling of gloom settled over Caris. She realised she didn’t want to turn her back completely on the hope of being a healer.

I can’t choose whether or not I am a seer or a healer. I can only be me. I will not seek visions, I would not know how even if I desired. I can’t make myself a healer, but I can continue to learn plant and herb lore, I will even try to call people to health, as Amarin thinks I did with Crispin. If I fail, it can’t hurt anyone and maybe I will discover I have a gift after all.

Finally, feeling more at peace with herself, Caris took in her surroundings. She realised she had seated herself on a rock by the same creek at which she had shared lunch with Jeniel on their first day collecting. The sun warmed her back and Caris felt tempted to lie back and relax to the sound of the tinkling creek and twittering of birds in the trees. She knew if she did, however, she would probably fall asleep after her restless night.

She had managed to cover a fair distance and knew she would have to head back soon. Tonight was her last with the elves. Colden had declared Crispin ready to ride. Caris regretted she had squandered her last day with the elves on her own and wished Jeniel were with her for the return walk. She had enjoyed her time with Jeniel immensely and thought that she would like to come back one day to visit her again. She couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to her for good.

As Caris walked back, she spent the afternoon drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells of Telvendor. She was surprised how attached she had grown to the place in such a short time.
It truly is beautiful, though. Who could not love it?

 

Caris sat, dressed in one of the new riding outfits Amarin had given her. Crispin, Jeniel, Amarin, and Anuka were with her, enjoying their share of the feast prepared for Crispin’s and her last night with the elves. Eppet, taro, kumera, and green bananas had been roasting in earth ovens all day, leaving the food with a beautiful smoked flavour and succulently tender.

Colden paced back and forwards in front of them, excitedly reciting one of his epic tales to the elves who were crowded around to hear him. Caris was enthralled by the tale she had never heard before, despite Amarin sitting beside her shaking her head and quietly laughing at Colden in fond amusement.

Caris had thoroughly enjoyed every night she had spent with the elves around their fires listening to their stories and song but for their last night there, the elves took the celebrating nature of their communal meal up another level. Caris revelled in the company of the healers.

She had found a place where she felt she truly belonged, a place where she was accepted for whom she was, not for how she looked. And a place where she could contribute something. She knew she had to move on but the thought of leaving her new friends behind saddened her and she wondered whether she would ever again feel as at home as she had with the elves.

The laughter and music lasted long into the night. Eventually a young elf who had sat by Caris on her first night around the evening fires, listening to her tale as she retold it for the many elves who questioned her, positioned himself on the small platform. He stood quietly as elves left other fires and crowded in to see him. Caris raised herself up to look around and saw elves stretching out into the surrounding trees. Even with the hush that now fell over the gathering, Caris thought there were many elves too far away to hear him talk.

Jeniel gave Caris an expectant smile and the young elf began to speak, his voice was deep and melodious, loud without being overly so for those seated close to him. It had an almost magical quality to it that carried clearly to those sitting farthest away and drew every listener under its spell. Caris was drawn into his tale of a young woman who joined The King’s Horse on their urgent journey back to The King.

She had been listening for a while before she realised he was telling her story. She looked around embarrassed but every eye was on the young elf. The beauty of his voice drew her eyes back to him,
he is only telling what I was willing to relate to everyone the first night I met them,
she realised as he repeated whole sentences from her own story.
But, he does it so much better,
she thought, as she again submerged into his tale.

There was a hushed silence when he finished as he stood quietly for a long moment. When he stepped down from the small platform, the elves burst into applause. Caris joined them; his story had been so remarkable she had forgotten to be embarrassed.

One of the few old elves, Caris had noticed during her stay, now climbed onto the platform and the crowd quietened. His voice, though deep and well projected, sounded weak and insubstantial after the young storyteller but everyone afforded him a listening reverence. Caris was used to the elves carrying on their own conversations and entertainments around their fires and only stopping to listen to a new or favourite story or song. It was obvious by their continued silence, this older elf was held in high esteem.

“Thank you Kilew for sharing some of Caris and Crispin’s story with us. We have been honoured to have you both stay with us. I have learnt much in my conversations with Crispin over the last week, and Colden has told me of the pleasure Caris has brought to the healers during her stay here. We have been very impressed with the abilities you both have and your humble attitude of spending yourselves in service to others.

Soon you must leave us and continue on your journey to The King. You will not leave us alone; some of our best will accompany you. Our hearts go with you all; we honour you. Serve The King on behalf of us all, until we join you in battle or you return to us!” He shouted the last and all the elves echoed him ─

“Until we join you in battle or you return to us!” The forest resounded with their yell, and then Anuka was pulling Jeniel to her feet and swinging her around the fire in dance as elves everywhere began to sing, play instruments, and dance. Caris glanced at Amarin, wondering what her reaction would be to Anuka’s dancing with Jeniel. Amarin was watching them and wiping a tear from her eye.

The party continued late until gradually parents began to pick children up from the foot of trees, where they had fallen asleep, and carry them up to their beds. The healers followed; tired and subdued, they climbed the stairs without talking. Anuka assisted Crispin, until towards the end when he was almost carrying him.

 

Caris woke late in the morning and made her way to Amarin’s workrooms to make herself some tea. “Amarin?” she called as she approached the door.

“I’m within.”

Caris entered and found Amarin and Jeniel sitting together having a cup of tea. She had the feeling she had walked in on a private conversation but they smiled at her warmly. Jeniel was her usual happy self but Caris thought that Amarin looked slightly strained.

“Crispin asked if you would breakfast with him this morning,” Amarin said to Caris.

“Oh okay,” Caris replied. She made her way out the other side of the room. Amarin had quickly forgotten her and Caris noticed her reaching out to take Jeniel’s hand in her own. Caris was disappointed, she had hoped to breakfast with Jeniel. She wanted to spend as much time as possible with her and the other healers before they left.

It didn’t take long to get to Crispin’s room. “Crispin?”

“I’m within” he replied. Caris smiled at the familiar elven reply. It hadn’t taken either of them long to adapt to the small customs of the elves. She entered to find Crispin breaking his fast with the older elf who had spoken the previous night.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I’m intruding. Amarin said you wanted to see me.”

“I do, come in, sit down. Eat.” Crispin said eagerly.

Caris approached the table. She dragged her eyes away from Crispin, who she thought was acting very strangely, to smile tentatively at the older elf.

“I am pleased to finally meet you Caris,” he said with a quiet dignity “I am Adanair”.

“Caris! They have found the pendant!” The statement erupted out of Crispin.

Caris stared at him in shock. Finally she managed to form some words, “Who? Where? When?”

“The elves, well no, The King’s Horse, or at least some of them. The elves found the Horse. I mean they haven’t seen the pendant, but they are returning from the west and one of the scouts said he could sense an object of immense power. So?” Crispin said raising his arms in a questioning gesture waiting for her agreement to his assessment.

Caris took a moment to mull over what Crispin had said. She wondered if Janen were with them. “Where are they? We can ask them ourselves.”

“Our scouts didn’t make contact with them.” Adanair replied.

Caris frowned at him in confusion.

“They were outside of Telvendor; it is not our custom to approach humans. Though we welcome guests when they come to us in peace, we are a people who mostly keep to ourselves.”

Caris paused, trying to frame her question politely; finally, she chose to be direct. “Didn’t the scouts think they may be friends of ours and that we might wish to reconnect with them? They are probably worried about us. If they are our friends, then the last time they saw us, Crispin had been stolen by the grey people.”

Adanair inclined his head, ceding her point. “These scouts were not aware of your presence with us. They have been scouting the farthest areas of our western borders for a moon and have had no word from us in that time. They only learned of you when they had a brief exchange with their relief three days ago; they then hurried back to bring us word.”

“Three days? When did they see The King’s Horse?” asked Caris

“It is five days since they were seen.”

“But then they will be long gone.” Caris said, subdued. She looked at Crispin’s stomach. He was fully clothed but she knew that underneath he was still healing. His wounds had been severe and though Colden had declared Crispin ready to ride, Caris knew he meant carefully, slowly, and for a limited amount each day. There was no way they would be able to catch up with them, even if they did find their trail in such a large area.

“Were they riding?” she asked Adanair.

He nodded in reply. “You forget they were to the west of us, heading south east. If you head south you will meet up with them.”

“But how will we find them?”

“We are elves. Be sure that the scouts, who replaced those returning, have never lost them. They skirt our lands; we can find them with little trouble.”

“But Telvendor is so vast”

“As are our skills,” he replied with a playful smile that seemed at odds with his wise demeanour.

Caris smiled at him. She was beginning to share Crispin’s excitement. Could it really be Janen and the other King’s Horse whose prints she had seen at the top of the fall of water? Had they really managed to retrieve the pendant and return safely? She blocked thoughts of Janen from her mind, scared to become too optimistic before actually seeing him.

“Perhaps the new western scouts will tell The King’s Horse we are here?”

“Perhaps, though it is more likely they will wait to hear from us.”

“Please Adanair; tell me again everything the scouts reported,” Crispin requested.

Adanair looked at Caris with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask permission to take the lead in the conversation. Caris blushed and mumbled, “I’m sorry”.

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