Tegalie wrote:

Fahesha once told me, that the only way to truly win is to survive. Yet I find I must disagree with my little sister. Survival isn’t a victory if it costs you your heart and soul.  

The troops of Frileah found us at the first light of dawn.  There was no sign of the serpent creatures nor the goblin horde that had pursued us relentlessly from Wombourne.  The only sign that remained of them were the bodies of their dead, all but turned to ashes.

They thought we too were numbered amongst the dead, until they found Ifonsa holding Ganthe.  Although she was barely conscious, she told them of our plight. Fortunately, Lord Fastri knew her, and so they gathered and tended to us all, then bore us back to Lord Fastri’s  keep.

Heric was the first of us to awaken.  He rose soon after midday, despite the multitude of wounds he had suffered (some of which he himself did not realise he had obtained).  His body is a mass of tiny wounds, and his face is almost one giant bruise. He can barely see from his left eye.

Yet I woke to find him holding my hand, calling my name softly, as the early evening  light streamed in through the window. I know I have jested and japed with him, but his man calls to my heart more than I can fully comprehend.  We will need to complete the conversation we began in the Ardúnfær.

As for the others of our company....

Even under the care of Lord Fastri’s best healers, both Ifonsa and Ganthe were not expected to survive the night. Last Honours were said over them.   

However as if sensing their dire need, at dusk last night Lera awoke from her own insensateness.  She came to the room in which both of them were being held in vigil, and she lay hands upon them, like in the tales of old.  Both Ganthe and Ifonsa woke under her touch. 

 However they are still gravely injured.  While they are no longer but a single step away from entering Baná’s Realm, they will need many more days and weeks of rest before they can leave the safety of the Keep.

As for Lera, she is much changed.  She remains aloof, rarely speaking.  However, she did reveal that she has no memory of what happened after the ice shattered. I don’t know if that is true, or if she is trying to hide her fear.  To become the holy vessel of Lord Úlæ as he smited evil, must be both a momentous, but also a terrifying experience. 

Perhaps her detachment also stems from Falduin’s lack of wakefulness.  He is alive, that much we can be certain, but despite her best efforts, neither Lera nor anyone else has been able to rouse him.  Lera sits with him night and day, holding his hand, as he lies unresponsive, breathing shallowly.

As for me, I too have suffered, and will need time to recover.  The loss of Fahesha cuts so deep.  There were many things I wish I had the opportunity to tell her.  Even just to thank her for everything she did to raise and mould me.  She has shaped my soul like no other, and her loss is a constant blemish.

Physically, I am as well as any could hope after all we have suffered through.  The burn on my thigh will remain an indelible reminder of the battle. As will the memory of the terrible purging that I endured.  Lera tried to warn me, but there was little I could do to forestall the black liquid being flushed from my body.  I am under no doubt that was the intention of this dark magic. It was supposed to leave me incapacitated and unable to resist.  

Fortunately I have friends that protected me, risking their own lives to protect mine.  How can I ever repay them?

Teg

Heric knocked on the door.

“Enter,” Tegalie said as she placed her writing instruments into her pack.

The room was small, furnished with a bed and a tiny table, with just barely enough room for Tegalie to write.  It was  located high up, in one of the towers, the windows offering views of the sea, in the far distance to the West, and the (much closer) Ardúnfær to the East. At least the reek from the swamp never reached this far, but the seaward breeze was cold, especially in the morning.

“M’Lady,” Heric said, coming to attention before her.  

They had agreed that they would play the roles of noble lady and bodyguard.  At least while they were in the Keep. They weren’t certain if Fastri knew who Tegalie truly was, and what he would do if he he found out.

“We sail on the evening tide,” Heric told her.

 Tegalie couldn’t help looking at his bruising.  She kept wanting to reach out to caress his face.

“Will Lera be joining us?’  Tegalie asked, belatedly.

“No.  She will remain to care for Falduin and the others.”

“So it’s just the two of us?”

Heric nodded.

“The Reverend Mother here told me she knew Lera when she was a novice,” Tegalie said. “She used to instruct Lera in the convent.  If you ask me, I think she’s afraid of her now.”

“That would make sense,” Heric said.

“Why?” Tegalie asked.

“They saw the fires from atop the Keep’s tower, but that’s not why they came.  Fires occur in the Ardúnfær all the time.  It was the manifestation of Úlæ that prompted Lord Fastri to investigate.  They were expecting a holy revelation.  Instead they found us.”

Tegalie nodded thoughtfully. “And Lera appears with powers that have not been seen since the Breaking of the World,” she said. “The Reverend Mother told me she always knew that Lera was special.  That she was destined for greatness.”

“They’ll be scouring the prophecies soon, trying to find one that fits.”

Tegalie laughed.

 

Tegalie had not seen Lord Fastri at all during their stay in his Keep. Even Heric had only brief words with him.  Instead Fastri busied himself with Lera, hovering nearby whenever he was able., He had even granted her the use of his private chamber, while he had relocated to bunk with his men.

While that might be construed as discourteous to even a lowly-ranked noble lady (and a scandalous way to treat a princess), Tegalie considered it a blessing.  She hoped to slip away in the evening and depart without Fastri discovering her true identity, at least not until their ship was far out to sea.  Noble politics was a fickle business, and if her presence became known it could become tricky. 

However, as Tegalie and Heric luncheoned together in Tegalie’s quarters, they heard a commotion in the corridor outside. They soon learnt that Lord Fastri had ordered two guards to watch over Tegalie.    

“He appears to have discovered something” Heric said. “I will have a quiet word with him.”  

“No,” Tegalie said, “I will go. Alone.”

She hardly had the appropriate clothing to meet a lord.  Just the plain travelling dress she had worn on her journey up to Wombourne.  It would have to do.  Everything else had been lost or was completely soiled, a legacy of the purging.

As she entered the hall, her guards took up positions beside the door.  Ready to respond, if necessary.  She wondered if by the end of this meeting, they would be dragging her, kicking and screaming, back to her chambers.  Or even directly to the dungeon.  

Of course, Fastri was waiting for her.  Although the hall was empty bar the two of them, he sat upon the seat where he held court.  The intention was clear.  He wanted her to know he was in control.

Despite her injured thigh, she strode up to stand before him and curtseyed.  Fahesha would have been proud of her. 

“My Lord, I wished to take the opportunity to thank you for your hospitality,” she said.  Tegalie always found it better to speak first, especially when middle-aged men were involved.  That way she could control the agenda.  

Fastri was about the same age as Tegalie’s father.  Their families were distantly related, but the wars had prevented the usual family gatherings that would have normally occurred.  Even the King’s coronation had been impromptu with just the barons and other nobles attending to swear allegiance.  Despite being the King’s grand-daughter, Tegalie had not been invited.   She had never met Fastri before, but from the look in his eye she knew he had finally recognised her.

“You are most welcome,” he said, then belatedly added, “Your Highness.”

“I will be certain to praise you highly when I speak to my father in a few days.  I am sure he and my grandfather will reward you richly for aiding my mission, M’Lord.”

Fastri snorted, “You and your company are barely ambulant.  One has yet to awaken and two are gravely injured.  Do you propose to abandon them?”

“Not if I could help it, but my mission must take precedence.  It is of the utmost importance, M’Lord.”

“The Royal Warden made no mention of any mission.  Your rescue, but no mission.”

“Former Warden, M’Lord” Tegalie corrected. “Her commission ended the moment she entered your keep.”

Fastri snorted again.  After a moment, he ordered Tegalie’s guards away with a wave of his hand. Once the echo of their boots disappeared he said, “Tell me of this mission.”

“I am not at liberty to answer such questions, M’Lord.”

Fastri sat back in his seat.

“Then, I don’t believe it would be wise to allow you continue.”

“Sorry, I don’t understand, M’Lord.”

“I need to consult with eldest son.”

“How long will that take?”

“He patrols the In-Tamra with the rest of his company.  Part of his service to the crown.  As for how long it will take...another year at least, perhaps longer.”

Tegalie nodded sagely.  She understood the implication.

“Was Frileah attacked during the wars,?”  Tegalie asked, glancing around at the hall.  It didn’t look as old or as sturdy as her home in Milardus.

“Yes, of course. Sir Helmund and his company died within an hour’s march.”

“Yes, I know.  Upon the very hill where you found us.”

“Yes,” Fastri said slowly, the sound almost a hiss.

“Fortunately, It served us better than it served the valiant knight, “ Tegalie paused, than asked, “An hour’s march, did you say, M’Lord?”

“Yes.  It is an hour from the far side of the Hárawún to Úlæ's Ridge.”

“Úlæ's Ridge?”

“Yes,” Fastri stated. “It was named to honour the vision we witnessed.”  

“By the Reverend Mother, M’Lord?”

“No.  By me.”

“Oh.”

“What of it?”

“You are a very pious man.”

“You know I am.”

“Pity.”

“If you have a point, make it?”

  “Under the articles establishing the new kingdom, only the Church can appoint a venerated name.”  Tegalie paused, and smiled, “For any other to do it, including members of the nobility, it Is considered a blasphemy.”

She allowed her own implication hanging.

Tegalie was not bothered by guards watching over her after that.

 

Both Ifonsa and Ganthe slept when Heric and Ifonsa visited them. The sea breeze pushed aside the white linen covers across the windows, allowing the late day sun to bathe their sleeping faces in hues of gold.  The two of them looked so peaceful as they rested.

Tegalie silently hoped their presence would wake at least one of them, but sadly it did not. It robbed both Tegalie and Heric the opportunity to say a proper goodbye and to thank them for their gallantry.  Tegalie in particular felt it cheapened the efforts of two great heroes. 

“They’re both soldiers,” Heric told her.  “Nobody ever thanks a soldier unless they want something from them.”

Yet, Tegalie would not be mollified.  She hid small purses, filled with coins and a personal note, under Ifonsa’s and Ganthe’s bed-covers so they would find them when they awoke. 

“You’ve given them more money than Ganthe has earnt in his entire lifetime,” Heric said as they departed.

“It’s just a handful of Tals and Gros,” Tegalie said, “It’s not like I’m handing out Aerys.”

“Falduin’s total life savings amounted to two gros.”

“Really?”

“Ganthe spent it on a horse and an ugly blanket.”

“He was robbed.  Should we drop by and leave some for him too?”

“No. Lera said she’d meet us at the ship. You can leave any rewards with her.”

 

Fastri was noticeable by his absence, and nobody challenged them as they left the Keep.   It was unlikely that anyone would recognise Tegalie, but she wished to blend in as much as she could.    She kept her hair covered, and her face down as they wandered the steep, narrow streets, appearing as she had in the Keep:  a noble lady with Heric as her bodyguard.  One of Fastri’s servant followed behind carrying Tegalie’s kit.  However, Tegalie carried her own sword, wrapped in linen so as to disguise it.

When they reached the docks, Tegalie gasped when she saw the ship Heric had hired. In comparison to her father’s warships it was tiny.  It had both oars and a mast, but a crew of barely twenty.”

“It will sink,” she protested.

“It will not sink,” Heric reassured her.

“It’s so...small.”

“It’s the largest ship here.”

Tegalie glanced along the small series of docks.  Heric was correct.  There was only a small fishing fleet and one other trader, which was much smaller.  Frileah wasn’t a bustling port like Milardus.

 

Later, Tegalie remained on the dock peering out towards the tiny town.  The sun had fallen behind the hills and the lanterns were being lit. She could hear the sailors busily preparing the ship to leave.  They were almost ready.  The tide had already turned.  However, there was no sign of Lera.

Heric joined her.  “The master is waiting,” he told her.

Tegalie nodded sadly.  Reluctantly she turned away, allowing Heric to guide her aboard.  

The ship’s master cried out to untie the lines and prepare to cast off. 

Yet just as she was about to enter the tiny cabin, she heard a commotion on the docks.  A formation of Fastri’s soldiers were hurrying towards their ship.

“Myn Āletheder,” Tegalie hissed.

“I will take care of it,” Heric offered.

“No.  I must,” Tegalie insisted.

Heric noted that Tegalie unwrapped the linen so that she could quickly draw the sword she carried. She waited, one foot upon the gunwale, which was quite outrageous for a noble lady, but Heric knew Tegalie didn’t care about such matters, except when she needed to.

As they drew closer Tegalie realised that Lord Fastri himself marched at the head of the formation.

“Stop that ship!” Fastri cried.

“The ship’s master looked to Tegalie.  She nodded.

“Hold the lines!” the master cried. All the sailors froze.  “We’re going to miss the tide,” he muttered, a little too loudly.

“This won’t take long, “Tegalie reassured him.

Fastri called a halt to his troop.  Then strode towards Tegalie.  He stopped and said, “Your Highness,” as he bowed.  

Heric noted that attracted the interest of the ship’s crew.  Eyebrows  were raised, glances exchanged, and faces made.

“I cannot allow you to leave.”  Fastri said.

“Why is that?” Tegalie said, coolly.

 “Divine command?”

Before Tegalie could retort, there was another commotion on the docks.  Two figures hurried towards the docks.  One in armour with a white surcoat, bearing the mark of the eagle, and the other in a grey robe.  They were weighed down by their kit.

“Lera!  Falduin!”  Tegalie cried.

“Permission to come aboard.” Lera asked as they raced up.

The ship’s master waved them onboard, and the two of them leaped across the gap.

“I thought you were dead” Heric said to Falduin.

“I got better again,” Falduin said, then he glanced across to Lera and both he and she laughed.

“Thankyou, M’Lord.  For everything,”  Tegalie said to Fastri.

“Thank you, Highness,” Fastri said. “It is not every day one gets to assist The Chosen Ones.”

That too produced looks from the crew.

Tegalie glanced toward Lera and Falduin.  They both noticeably avoided her gaze.

“Yes, well.  Remember, it’s supposed to be a secret,” she told Fastri.

“Oh, yes...” Fastri fumbled.

Tegalie cried, “Cast off!” and moved to join the others.

The sailors untied the lines and leapt aboard the ship, as it’s master grumbled, “I’m supposed to say that.”