What Enchantment Hides - Book 1

Chapter 5

         Calya gripped the reins and rode low over the horse’s neck. Kikarii kept up with her out of need. They slowed when the horses became tired, ate on horseback and continued at a slow pace through the night.
The sun rose, throwing out its pink and golden rays across the sky; and with the day came another long stretch of galloping. High above the travelers, birds called to one another. Clouds floated lazily overhead, displaying their shadows on the grass below. The wind blew Calya’s hair back as she rode, and enveloped her in a sort of cocoon where she was alone and free. By midday they reached a stream. They dismounted, and let their horses have their fill.
         Kikarii looked over at Calya. “Are you alright?”
         She looked worn and tired. “I’m fine.” She lied.
         “No you’re not. I can see you starting to fade.”
         “Let the horses graze for a bit, and then we continue.”
         There was no arguing with her, so Kikarii walked away and removed the bridles from the horses.
         Less than an hour later they were riding again. By nightfall they reached Tant. They galloped back to the shack. Calya was nodding off when they arrived. Kikarii dismounted and banged on the door. Nothing. He banged louder and yelled for help. He turned away, frustrated and distraught.
When he turned back Habbi stood in the opening. “What can I do for you, Kikarii?”
         “It’s Calya…” His voice faded as he turned to look at her.
         Habbi looked past him as Calya dropped from the saddle. “Hurry, carry her in! Yes! Get her in quickly.”
Kikarii picked her up and did as he was told while Habbi hobbled inside again to wake Ven. The big man walked into the healer’s room as Kikarii lay Calya down. Habbi looked her over hurriedly while asking Kikarii a stream of questions. Ven rolled the girl onto her stomach and unlaced her garments. The claw marks were deep, black holes in her back with green liquid oozing out. With a wave he dismissed Habbi and Kikarii. They went into the other room, and sat on the couch.
         Habbi was the first to speak. “She will make it. Yes she will.”
         “How can you be sure?”
         Habbi smiled solemnly, a mix of pride and sorrow in his features. “You ask as if my confidence is unfounded, young man. Oh no. It most certainly is not! I have been a healer for many years. I worked for the royal family of Kezna before the stewards took over the realm. I knew her father, king Trayzer. And I saw her when she was born. I knew her mother, queen Etrias and I cared for her until her death, shortly after Calya’s kidnapping. It was terrible, it was, watching her give up. So terrible, indeed. When Orin took over, I was sent away, I was. I traveled across the map until I settled here and found Ven as a youth. I taught him all that I know, I did. I traveled everywhere except past the mountains of Ynhilay. I want to explore them – to really go beyond, into the forest and into the mountain range. I want to go past the borders of this map.” He held up the map he had shown to Calya nearly a week before. Kikarii yawned and rubbed an eye. The old man smiled regretfully and put the map back on the wall. “Unfortunately this couch is the only place I have for you to sleep. Nothing better. Nothing at all.”
         Kikarii smiled back. “I would ask for nothing more.”
         “In that case,” the other replied, “sleep. Sleep and we will take care of the little miss.” Kikarii nodded and lay down. The old elf walked into another room and returned with a pillow to see him already fast asleep. Carefully, Habbi lifted his head and put the pillow under it before sneaking back to his own room.



         The next morning Kikarii awoke. He heard Habbi in the other room busying himself in the kitchen. The young elf stretched, stood, and walked into the kitchen. “What time is it?”
Habbi jumped and turned around. “It is nearly noon. Yes it is.” Kikarii looked uncertain. “She’s in the other room. I think she is still unconscious. Yes.” They walked into the other room causing Ven to turn his head. The old man made some gestures with his hands, but the other shook his head. “She has not awoken yet.”
         Kikarii peered around Ven at Calya. She laid on her stomach still, her back exposed and covered with damp strips of cloth. “Is she going to be alright?”
         Habbi made signs with his hands then turned back. “She will be when she wakes up. She will be quite alright indeed.” He smiled sympathetically. “There is an inn and tavern further into the village. The Marsh Guard. You should go and get yourself lunch.”
         “I have food.”
         Habbi shoved him toward the front door. “Just go. And tell them I sent you. Oh! And I put the horses in the barn in the back, so do not fret yourself.” When Kikarii hesitated, he pushed him again. “Off you go! I’ll send word if she awakens. Yes, go. Eat your fill.”
         Kikarii went back to check on the horses before following the directions the old elf gave him. He walked past a blacksmith’s shop, a small vegetable market, a barn to board horses, and a seer’s house. He was tempted to enter the house when his stomach growled. His conscience yelled at him that nothing he knew would control his fate. Kikarii moved on and found the inn called the Marsh Guard.
         He walked through the door, and was confronted by a scene he was not expecting in such a small settlement. The inn was bustling with activity. In the right corner near the door was a pair of men with swords and flashy smiles trying to dazzle a group of ladies. On the left wall was a target with a girl and a young man in a throwing knife contest. There were more than a dozen onlookers betting on who would win while raising their mugs in the air. In front of him and wrapping around to the right was a long counter with at least twenty men sitting and drinking a variety of ales and coffee. There was a card game taking place at a large circular table in the middle. At tables scattered around the room, people young and old were finishing up a very late breakfast while some were sitting down to lunch. A boy in his teen years was running around clearing empty tables and bringing food to tables that were filling up.
         Kikarii walked up to the counter and waited for the bartender to notice him. A man to his right spoke up. “Hey, Traff, you got a customer!”
         A redheaded man in his early thirties turned to face him, a wide smile on his face as he answered the big man. “Thanks, Harlin.” He then addressed Kikarii. “What can I get for you?” His smile was bright and cheery, welcoming friendly conversation and new customers.
         “Habbi sent me.”
         His smile broadened and he chuckled. “A friend of Habbi is a friend of mine. I’m Traff. I own the bar and inn. The menu is behind me. Pick anything you’d like.” He leaned forward and put his hand beside his mouth speaking in a harsh whisper. “If Habbi sent you then it’s on the house.” He straightened. “Take a look, and holler when you’re ready to order.” A voice called to him from the bend in the counter, and he hastened over to check on his customer.
         Kikarii looked at the menu, and ran his fingers through his short hair. A pretty blonde came out of a door behind the bar and noticed him right away. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
         The elf chuckled. “How could you tell?”
         “I know every regular. And if you’d been here before, you’d already know what to order. Let me see.” She looked up at the menu, her eyes scanning. “The eggs are good. The boar sausage and biscuits are unbeatable and the-“
         “Pardon me,” he interrupted, “why don’t I save you the rest and get the sausage and biscuits. Oh. and a coffee would be more than appreciated.”
         “Sounds good. I’ll get those right out for you.” She flashed him a smile before turning to Traff who was making his way over to her.
         The bartender spoke first. “I suppose you’re bragging on your own cooking again?”
         She glanced at Kikarii. “He should know how good the food is before he orders.”
         Traff turned to him, wrapping his arm around the girl’s waist. “I don’t believe I caught your name, newcomer.”
         Kikarii smiled. “I’m Kikarii.”
         “Well, Kikarii, this is my beautiful wife Amberly. Also known as the Marsh Guard’s fabulous cook.”
         She pushed away from him, chuckling. “And he’ll think I’m a lazy one if I don’t get his brunch out.”
         Traff watched her walk back, clearly in love, then returned his attention to his customer. “So, Kikarii, anything to drink?”
         “I’ll have coffee.”
         “Coming right up. You can find yourself an open table and my nephew Brinner will bring it to you since we have no more stools open right now.”
         “Thank you.”
         The elf wandered through the crowd and spotted a table near the group betting on the throwing knife contest. He sat and watched Traff’s short, red ponytail swing and bob as he served the men at the bar with a smile. A moment later the young boy came to his table with a tray, placing it on the table opposite him. Brinner gave him a plate full of sausage and two biscuits then set down his coffee.
“Thank you.” The boy nodded and hurried back to the kitchen. Shouts and cheers erupted to Kikarii’s left. He looked up to see the crowd patting the girl on the back. The young man was retrieving his throwing knives and looking quite glum. He shook hands with her and headed out of the inn. The girl had red hair in a long braid that hung down her back, and a little past her hips. It swung around her as she hurried to the counter.
         A middle-aged man gave her his stool. She plopped down and shouted to the bartender. “Hey, Traff! How about drinks for all my admirers!” She turned around. “Ale for you all!” The crowd of men cheered loudly raising their fists.
         “And how are you going to pay for this, Skara?”
         She dropped coins down on the counter and smiled proudly. “My winnings, dear brother.”
         He laughed and began filling up the large glasses.
         Kikarii chewed his food in silence, watching the scene play out in front of him. He smiled. All family, eh? The village was lively. It was a good place to stop and heal. As he watched Skara an idea came to him. He finished his biscuit and coffee and walked over to the redhead. “May I have a word with you?”
         She set down her ale glass and snorted. “You want to face me?”
         “No.” He looked unsure. “But I have a proposition that may interest you that your skills could help with.”
         “I’m not a mercenary, and I don’t fight other people’s battles. If you have an issue with someone, find another person to help you. I’m not for hire.” She brushed a stray hair from her face and turned back to her ale.
         “I just need a minute of your time. You can say no after I’ve told you.”
         She looked at her brother, as if asking for help on how to deal with a stray dog, and he nodded toward Kikarii. “He’s friends with Habbi. It may be worth your time.”
         “Fine.” She pushed away from the counter, more than a little annoyed, and followed him to where his table was.
         Kikarii spoke quietly, “I want to hire your skill for private lessons.”
         “Look, kid, I don’t teach fans my art. I appreciate the compliment, but my admirers are just that. They admire me and I appreciate it. That’s where it stops.” She looked impatiently back at her entourage and her half finished mug of ale on the bar.
         “I’m not asking for myself. And I’m not asking it from you free of charge. I will make it worth your time.” He held her gaze steady.
         “Then who are you asking for?” She still looked bored.
         “My companion who is presently with Habbi. She could surely benefit from a skill set such as yours.”
         Her smile was mocking as she let out a gruff laugh. “Teach a girl? That’s embarrassing. This isn’t a child’s game, kid.”
         Kikarii was losing patience and being called kid did not help much. He tried to ignore the fact that Skara was also female. “She killed a reviler with no sword. Is she still sounding like an embarrassment?”
         Skara thought for a minute and then smiled. This could be good for her reputation. “How much money are we talking?”



         Kikarii burst through the door of the healer’s house. “Habbi, is she awake?”
         The old elf hobbled out of the kitchen and chuckled. “What are you so excited for?”
         “Is she awake?” He pressed.
         “Yes, she is. She is indeed.”
         Kikarii ran into the healing room and found Calya brushing out her hair. He slowed and walked up to her. “I have a surprise.”
         She eyed him suspiciously. “What is it?”
         “I’ll let you know soon enough.”
         Habbi came to the end of the girl’s bed. “Now don’t you go getting her all excited. She’s just mending and all.”
         “Thank you, Habbi. But I’m okay.”
         “Are you hungry?” Kikarii asked her.
         “I will be, come dark. But Habbi fed me when I woke up.”
         “Perfect. I think it’s time you walked around the village a bit. It’s beautiful.”
         Habbi piped in. “It is a really nice village. It is indeed.”
         Kikarii took her by the arm and led her to the door. They exited and began their exploration. They walked past houses with children playing on the front steps, mothers washing clothes, and young girls selling flowers. The day was waning and the sun was beginning to set in the western sky.
         They came to the inn and Kikarii opened the door for her. She stepped in and was taken aback by all the noise. The village was so quiet, but the inn was crowded and loud and more than rowdy. The elf took her elbow and directed her to a couple stools near the left end of the bar. Kikarii took his seat, and Calya sat down next to him. She looked around and saw a redheaded girl throwing knives against a heavyset man with receding hair. There was a group around her placing bets. Calya looked up at the menu.
         A handsome man with a red ponytail and kind expression came up to her from behind the counter, drying an ale mug with a dish towel, and smiled. “See something on that menu you like?”
         “I’m not sure.”
         “Well take your time, and I’ll be back to check on you.” He turned to Kikarii. “Back again, I see. Liked our food that much, Kikarii?”
         Kikarii chuckled. “More like your sister, Traff.”
         His smile widened and he broke into a hearty laugh. “You and every other man in this inn.”
         Kikarii realized how his comment had sounded and gave him a sideways look. “That’s not what I-”
         The man waved his hand dismissively, still laughing, and hurried to answer the call of a man on the other side of the counter.
         The crowd of men behind them hooted and hollered in excitement and the older man with the throwing knives cursed under his breath. He approached the red haired girl and threatened her. She threw her long braid over her shoulder and met his glare with her own icy stare.
         The bartender jumped over the end of the bar and got between them. “Skara, Horin, back down.”
         “Don’t tell me what to do, you cheapskate,” The man – apparently Horin – raged.
         In a moment a dirk was in Traff’s hand. He held it to the older man’s throat. An eerie silence filled the inn. “I said back down.” When the other didn’t move, Traff pressed the blade harder against his throat. “I suggest you do it now, before you get in deeper than you can crawl out of.” Around the room, swords were unsheathed. The man looked around, and backed up. He cursed loudly and moved out of the inn, taking his small group of followers with him.
         The girl smiled and clapped the bartender on the shoulder. “I can always count on you, brother.”
         “Wish you’d get a real weapon so you didn’t have to.”
         Skara rolled her eyes, walked over and sat down next to Calya as Traff jumped back over the counter. The girl’s braid came to just below her hips and her sharp green eyes looked her over before moving off toward the bartender. “Traff! A couple of drinks for my friends here!”
         The man turned around and set down three ales in front of the girl, Calya, and Kikarii. “There you go, Skara.” Kikarii raised his glass to Skara and took a sip. Calya looked at the drink, then at her companion in confusion.
         The girl nudged her. “Let’s go to the corner, miss, and we can talk privately.”
         “Good idea,” Kikarii said, talking over his friend’s objection. He put his hand on her shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry. This is the surprise.”
         They took their drinks and walked over to a table where a big brute of a man was leaning back in his chair. He stood when they approached and nodded at the redhead. “Skara,” he greeted.
Skara sat down in the corner, leaned the chair back, and put her boots on the table. She studied Calya for a good while before putting her feet down and speaking. She smiled. “Sit, please.” They took their seats and Skara leaned forward. “Kikarii told me you slayed a reviler. I must say you have some courage. But you need skill. And one of those skills I can teach you.”
         Calya sat stunned. Then she looked at Kikarii. “We do not have time.”
         Kikarii whispered harshly. “Calya, we cannot risk you having no skills.” Skara leaned back in her chair, her back touching the wall. She drank her ale while they discussed it, taking in the details of their conversation and filing them for later. Pieces she didn’t know existed were beginning to come together.
         Calya’s anger flared. “Who saved you from the revilers? Who got you all the way here?”
         “And who almost died while doing it?” he retorted. He saw her eyes starting to fade to red. “Okay, okay. Relax and listen to me. How are you going to finish your task with only the skills you have? How are you going to lead your people with only what you know now?”
         She took a deep breath and her eyes cleared to orange again. She turned to Skara and nodded. “Okay.”
         Skara smiled mischievously. “Then finish your ale and go back to Habbi’s. Get your horses, and meet me at the west side of Tant at dawn. When they left, Kikarii had drunk half his mug and Calya had taken a sip and wrinkled her nose in distaste.




         Calya and Kikarii walked back to the healer’s house talking about where Skara was going to take them. They entered quietly. Ven watched them come in, and banged on Habbi’s door. The old man hobbled out of his room and looked them over. “Well?”
         Kikarii looked at Ven then back at the elf. “Well what?”
         “When are you leaving?”
         “How did you-“
         “I may look old, but my mind is still sharp. You met Skara and made a deal, did you not?”
         “We did.”
         Habbi smiled. “Agree to help you two, did she?”
         Kikarii nodded.
         “Well then… Calya, you sleep in the healing room. Kikarii, you sleep on the couch again.”
         The two travelers nodded and went their separate ways. Habbi checked on them both and then retired to his room for the night.



         Dawn came quickly, and Habbi woke Kikarii up roughly, telling him to get Calya. The young elf walked up to her bed and whispered her name. She sat up quickly, alert and ready to go. They walked outside and saw the horses saddled and ready as well. Habbi stood next to Kikarii’s stallion.
         He walked up to the old man and cocked an eyebrow. “How did you know we would meet Skara?”
         The other’s wrinkled face creased further with a smile. “Because that’s why I sent you to eat at the Marsh Guard.”
         Calya and Kikarii mounted up and Kikarii led the way through the village to the western woods. “Tant is not large. We should reach the woods soon.”
         “How do you know how large it is?”
         “I looked around while you slept.”
         When they arrived at a path heading into the trees Kikarii pulled back on the reins. A whistle to his right caught his attention. He turned to see Skara dressed quite differently. She wore a gold-embroidered corset over a green riding tunic, dark brown riding breeches, and even darker brown riding boots that came up to her knees. She sat astride a black horse. She beckoned them over, and told them to follow. The three set a slow pace to the north end of the village. When they reached the northern border they turned west, into the woods.
         They stopped at midday in a clearing surrounded by targets. Skara dismounted and, after tying her steed to a low branch, turned. "Traff set up these targets for me to practice on when we moved here from Kezna. Habbi took us under his wing a few years later." Kikarii and Calya dismounted as the young woman ran her hand along the edge of one of the targets as if caressing a lover's face. After a moment of silence, she beckoned to Calya and gave her a pouch of throwing knives. The two stepped back to just in front of where Kikarii stood. She pulled out two knives and flung them into the target in the middle of her turn. The actions took less than a second for her to complete. They were both in the middle circle. "Go ahead."
Calya took a knife in her hand and stared at it. Skara sighed and showed her how to hold it. The princess held it the same as she was shown, and threw it as she had watched her teacher do. The handle hit the tree, far from the target, and it fell to the ground. She put her head down, mentally kicking herself for her failure. A hand rested on her shoulder causing her to look up. Skara was smiling at her. "At least you hit the right tree, milady. Try this." She grabbed her arm and hand and walked her through exactly how to throw.
         Calya took out another blade and let it fly, not picking up on the title of respect given her. The tip dug into the tree a bit below her target. She let out a breath, trying to recount her movements to see where she went wrong. "Can you walk through the throw with me again?" she asked her teacher. Skara took out one of her own knives and held it, waiting for Calya to follow suit. She patiently went through the motions step-by-step. Skara threw hers, watching it sink into the middle of the circle. Calya then threw the one she stood holding and watched as it stuck in the rim of the target. She looked over, hoping for a nod of approval, but received none. She practiced until she thought she would go crazy. She only hit the target one more time and missed the tree completely more times than she could count.



         A month of training had passed, and the sun was sinking just below the tops of the trees when Skara called it a day to finally end their training. Calya was good. She was really good. Being a half breed definitely gave her an incredible advantage in learning this skill. The weeks they spent outside the village also gave Kikarii the time he needed to hone his skills with a sword. If Traff could escape the tavern, he would spar with Kikarii. Otherwise, Skara would use her influence to convince any of the men who had the talent to help him train. They rode back through the woods and into the town. The three put up their horses in the stable behind the inn and walked up to the door. Screaming could be heard coming from inside. Skara stopped and listened. A moment later she burst into the inn and hollered. "You touch my brother, Horin, and I'll have your head!" Her fiery hair swung over her shoulder as her temper flared. An eerie silence fell over the room. The red-haired Traff looked past the big man and shook his head at his sister, trying to tell her to law low and stay away.
         Horin turned, smiled, and walked forward, pulling out his machete. "There you are." Skara motioned behind her back for Calya and Kikarii to move away as Traff jumped back over the counter to hug his wife. Calya moved off to her right as the bartender ushered his wife safely into the back.
         Traff returned from the back and unsheathed his dirk quietly and out of sight. Skara spoke up finally. "Leave, Horin. You have nothing to gain here."
         He chuckled darkly. "I have my pride, you weak, little wretch..." He started forward and raised his blade. In a moment Skara had her throwing knives in hand and launched them in his direction. He blocked them with his machete, and continued advancing. The redhead backed up and took out two more and threw them. Those were blocked as well. He was right above her now, and lifted his blade high. She tried to sidestep, but he tripped her, and she hit the ground with a heavy thud. Traff leaped over the counter with a shout. He lunged at the large, hulking man. One of Horin’s men tackled him out of the air and wrestled him on the floor to wrench the dirk from his fist. Amberly screamed in fear as the men in the tavern threw themselves into the melee with the big man’s entourage. Kikarii joined in himself, brandishing his blade like an expert.
         Skara tried to scurry to her feet, but was pressed against the floor with a heavy boot. Kikarii was engaged with another one of his men as he fought to come nearer to the knife thrower. Horin smiled and brought down his weapon. The girl covered her head with her hands, cowering with her face on the floor and waited for the blow that never came. She heard murmuring and tried to look up. The big man teetered on his feet and dropped his blade. His eyes glazed over and she looked past him to her brother who now stood silent and amazed a few feet behind him. Skara scurried out of the way as Horin fell heavily onto the wooden floor, dead. The handle of a throwing knife protruded from his neck, the blade deeply embedded in flesh. She looked over at Calya who stood silent, her arm still outstretched and surprise on her stern yet anxious face. Quietly, a group of men came over, grabbed Horin by the arms and legs, and dragged him out of the inn. Everyone else was staring at Calya in stunned silence. Traff sheathed his dirk and walked over to his sister holding out his hand. She took it and stood, making her way over to her student. Skara held out her hand and, when Calya took it, she pulled her into a hug.
         The bartender turned to stare down Horin’s men. If looks could kill, mass graves would have had to be dug. “Get rid of them. I don’t want to see their faces here again.” Without their leader, they were less than confident, especially after what they had just witnessed. They were escorted out by more than enough swordsmen who soon returned to inform Traff that they were expected to leave Tant by the weekend, or there would be consequences.
         Traff came over and clapped Calya on the back. A hunter came forward and put his big hands on Kikarii’s and her shoulders and raised his voice. "These three eat free tonight!" The inn broke into applause and cheers. Amberly came out from the back door behind the counter. She came up to Traff and wrapped her arms around his torso. He hugged her back, kissed her hair and walked back with her to the bar. Chatter started up again as if nothing had ever happened and drinks continued being served.
         The hunter walked to the counter trailed by the three companions, and men gave up their seats to them. Skara sat with the hunter on her right, and Calya on her left, with Kikarii on the end of the counter past the latter. He heard Skara speaking with the man paying for them.
         "Thanks for the free meal, Gammir."
         The hunter chuckled. "If you don't get your act together and get yourself a real weapon, I'll go broke paying for the meals of all the people having to save you. At least if it was your brother who saved you, I wouldn't have had to pay for it."
         Skara laughed and slapped him on the back. "I'll remember that."
         "Speaking of which, that brings me to the reason I'm here in the first place." He untied something at his belt which Kikarii could not see.
         Skara turned to her brother. "Traff! You seeing this? Gammir wants me to defend myself!"
         Traff walked over and whistled. "That is one good looking sword. I assume you made it yourself."
         Gammir nodded. "I may not be a blacksmith anymore by trade, but it doesn’t mean the family skill was lost on me."
         Skara raised her voice. "It's beautiful! Too bad I don't know how to use it! You'll teach me of course?"
         "Of course! The less money I spend on ale for your multitude of heroes, the happier my wife will be." Gammir bellowed with a hearty and rumbling laugh.



         Calya observed the scene quietly, happy to be out of the spotlight despite her obvious and impressive show of sudden skill. Gammir had laid the newly crafted weapon on the bar and was talking over the importance of balance and distribution of weight and all other subjects a skilled weapons master and craftsman would know. The conversation stopped interesting her quite quickly and she sipped her coffee she had asked for instead of ale, and became lost in her thoughts.
         Kikarii had joined into the conversation about swords, which had evolved into a massive, full bar discussion about every kind of known weapon. Even Traff’s wife had joined in, pulling out her bow and quiver from the back to show off. Suddenly, someone from one of the tables, who had just crammed the last bit of dinner into his mouth, came up to the bar counter and quite loudly and obnoxiously called for a knife throwing match between the ladies. Skara looked at him, annoyed, as crumbs shot out of his mouth with his proposition.
         Calya exited her thoughts to see the entire room staring at her, including Skara and Kikarii. She had missed what was said and stared awkwardly around and looked to Kikarii for help. He caught on to the fact that she had missed the entire conversation. “I think you should face off Skara in a throwing contest,” he said to her so she could quickly get up to speed with the situation. Calya glared at him for the suggestion.
         “I am in no way qualified to stand against Skara and her level of skill,” She said, attempting to politely dismiss all expectations.
         Traff joined in, clearly intent on not supporting her sentiment. “I wouldn’t say such a thing. I admit her skill level is impressive. She has clearly demonstrated as much by always needing to be rescued by everyone except herself on a weekly basis.” He laughed loudly in mockery of his little sister as the crowd booed and hooted and hollered in false mockery. Calya looked helplessly around and then shifted her gaze to Skara who looked more than ready to give her a run for her money.
         Calya stood up and pulled her pouch off her belt. She moved to the line on the floor in front of the target as cheering and yelling erupted from the crowd. Skara tossed her thick red braid over her shoulder and got up to join her as another round of ales were passed around and onlookers voiced their bets on who would win and how close the score would be.
         Calya took a steady breath and threw her first knife. It bounced off the target by its handle and a chorus of spirited yet disappointed “Ooooooo’s” sounded from the bar behind them like a group of boys watching a schoolyard fight. Skara took her turn and buried the knife in the center of the target. Calya positioned herself to make her second throw and then hesitated, looking at her opponent. “Let’s change things,” She said abruptly.
         The redhead beside her looked confused, but intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”
         “Well, you are used to constantly being watched by an audience, but I definitely am not. So why don’t we throw at the same time to lessen the focus on just me?”
The other shrugged. “Not traditional, but whatever you want to do. There are two targets, so I am up for the change.”
         They both prepared to throw and someone from behind took it on themselves to count down. The entire group chimed in. They both threw their knives and to everyone’s surprise, Skara’s blade was knocked off course and neither hit the target. A few small noises that fell somewhere between a hoot and a boo came from the otherwise quiet and very unsure crowd. It happened at the next throw. There were three more throws to take and everyone was starting to feel the tension as Skara cast a sideways look at Calya who seemed completely unconcerned and let out a high and quiet, “Oops.”
         Two more throws ended with the same result. Skara got frustrated and decided the last throw would be done separately and that she would go first. She hit the target directly in the middle, nearly touching her first knife. Calya made her throw and knocked out both of the other woman’s proofs of victory on the target that was obviously not hers.
         Nobody made a sound. Traff looked anxiously at his sister, and then at Kikarii who stood nervously nearby the contestants. The room was so silent, it was deafening. Calya looked at Skara patiently, waiting for a claim of victory or cheating. The small redhead lifted an open hand high above her head and gestured to her opponent with the other. “I have not been defeated by skill, but by cunning and wit! Can I even be angry at such wiles as this?” Then she laughed, almost more than was appropriate. In an instant the bar was as relaxed as before and laughter rippled through the group of onlookers. She clapped Calya on the back and shook her hand. “You definitely are a worthy opponent for anyone, my friend.” She shook her head back and forth as they gathered their knives, walked back to the counter, and seated themselves.
Traff slid two ales to the ladies. “On the house! About time somebody showed my sister up and she admitted defeat.”
         Calya chuckled. “I told you I was no match for her skill. As long as her knives were thrown alone, I did not stand a chance.”
         The winnings from the bet were collected and handed to Traff’s sister, but she turned and handed the bag of coins to Calya. “May your journey be prosperous and your quest successful, highness.” She gave a subtle bow of her torso. Some cheers went up until people caught on to the title Skara had referred to Calya with. Silence fell and then a low murmuring began and looks were thrown at Calya’s clothes that had previously been ignored as those of a messenger from Kezna.
Anxiety wracked Calya and Kikarii came and stood between her and the rest of the people in the bar. He looked at Traff for reassurance and saw surprise. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, But the bartender regained his wits, smiled reassuringly, and kindly said, “You have no need to fear here. You are among friends.”
         Skara covered her mouth with a gasp at her verbal slip and looked half apologetically at the two companions. Calya, on the other hand, looked around the room as if searching for an open window to escape from. Kikarii still stood between her and the crowd, eyeing them suspiciously. Traff vaulted himself over the counter and looked the princess up and down before looking her in the eyes. “Ah yes. You must be her. There is no other explanation. Gammir, do you see it?” Without moving, the gruff man nodded and grunted his agreement. The young woman felt like a caged animal at a zoo. She felt trapped and vulnerable. However, Kikarii released the hilt of his blade and let his hand rest at his side. How could they know?
The hunter came up to Calya and curtly bowed in respect. Ready to give her an escape. “Please come with me, my queen. I think I have something of value to add to your trip.” He handed the new sword to Skara and beckoned to them with his hand toward the door.
         Calya looked over at Traff, her uncertainty evident. He nodded and smiled. “I’m sure that whatever he has to show you will be very much worth your while, highness.” They exited the building, Kikarii’s hand protectively on her back as he watched Gammir’s every move. The man led them to a small dwelling a few buildings away. The villagers nodded as the trio passed, unaware of what was just unveiled inside the inn concerning the two strangers.
         Gammir walked around the back of his home and pushed aside a door to a small blacksmith’s shop. He proceeded inside and lit a few hanging lanterns, but the two companions stood at the doorway, uncertain of what to expect. He turned and waved them inside before he pushed the door closed behind them. During the day, it would be light enough inside without any lanterns with multiple decent sized windows on each wall. They were high up to keep the workshop private, but were large and plentiful enough to let in a substantial amount of daylight.
         Gammir did not hesitate. “You may have noticed that no one thought it strange that you wore garb of the royal house of Kezna until Skara gave you your due respect in title, milady,” he began, looking her over and then scanning Kikarii. “Messengers from the royal palace have come and gone from here during their journeys quite often. None have presented themselves in quite some time, but with the talk of war in the air throughout the whole land, anything is possible. We stay separate from the politics of the northern lands, though we are well aware that any of the rumors will affect life as we now know it. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself and why the matter concerns me.” He moved to the wall where hunting equipment and riding garb hung on large nails and hooks and removed a pair of leather gauntlets from a set of hooks. He handed them to the princess and she immediately recognized the royal emblem on the back of them as well as the gold embroidery near the wrist.
         She looked at him wide-eyed. “These are from Kezna’s royal family. But how did they end up here?”
         His expression changed to that of sorrow and he sat on a large anvil used for hammering hot metal. “Before king Trayzer, your father, died in battle, I was working as a blacksmith for the royal family. I was given these gauntlets to prove my connection with the royal house in my travels and dealings with merchants. After the king’s death, many of us who were hired by the king and queen and prior, decided to stay to support the city and the highlands with our services. However, when the queen died after you were kidnapped and the stewards took power, we were driven out of the city for our continued loyalty to the prior rulers and our refusal to bow to tyranny. I know many other craftsmen who were thrown out of the city gates by the newly appointed castle guard at the time. A few of us came to this village, but many went to other, small, outlying villages through the Lowlands and further west, hoping to stay far from the miserable politics and reckless governing of the new rulers. The others who traveled here with me have all gone on in spirit except Habbi. He is the only one left here besides myself.” Calya handed the gauntlets back to him, her expression unreadable and her thoughts in a whirl. He handed them to Kikarii. “You will need these more than I. I have no more need of them here in this village. However,” he said, turning back to Calya, “take this with you.” He handed her a large dagger-like knife in a sheath. “It is not much, but it is well crafted and you can be confident that it will last through any predicament you may find yourself in.”
         They spent the night in a room at the inn talking with Gammir to learn more about the state of Kezna and the Highlands at his departure. The hunter made clear that things have only become worse with the passing of time, and while he did not know any details of the dealings concerning the stewards, the rumors of war with Kezna’s allies were being confirmed by merchants coming from the Highlands to trade or sell their wares in the villages of the Lowlands. They talked far into the night and early morning until the first rays of sunlight began streaming through the window of the bedroom. Gammir left them at sunrise. They gathered their things together and walked down to the bar, ready to depart. When they entered the bar area, it was already full. Traff stood with his arm around his wife before the counter, and the men of the village sat at the tables, looking as though they had been sitting there idle all night long, waiting for them. The villagers stood when the two walked in from the stairs, Gammir and Skara standing in front, next to the bartender. She was dressed in her riding garb and riding boots, her fiery hair in a thick braid that was wrapped into a large bun at the back of her head. Calya looked around in confusion, wondering what solemn tragedy had happened in the village to cause everyone to gather in the inn at such an hour.
         Traff stepped forward and handed Calya a large purse full of coins. “It is not much, but it is all we have. Most of it was given by Skara since she robs most of us of our livelihoods on a daily basis.” He smirked and stepped back to stand beside Amberly. Calya thanked him, but was otherwise speechless as she was unused to being given genuine, unforced respect. She looked around the room then nodded to Kikarii and took a step forward. The villagers parted and made an aisle before her to the door. They kneeled as she walked by, bowing their heads in reverence. Skara, Traff, Amberly and Gammir followed behind her as the others rose to their feet and closed the gap.
         At the door Calya turned and nodded to Gammir and the others before heading around back to retrieve their horses. Their steeds were saddled with new saddle bags full of choice foods from the inn as well as salve and wraps from Ven and Habbi for any injuries that may occur along their way. Grateful, they led their horses from the stable and mounted. As they made their way through the small village, another horse trotted up behind them. The two stopped and turned around to see who was following. It was Skara.
Kikarii and Calya look quite confused at the sight, but Skara trotted right by them and nonchalantly said, “As if you two think you won’t need me for a bit longer. Dawn has already passed, we are wasting the day.”
         The princess smirked at Kikarii and urged her horse forward. Minutes later, they were galloping across the grass and exiting Tant. As they traveled, they exchanged their stories of where they came from and how they ended up where they were. They would prepare to head north to the Highlands and whatever awaited them in the days to come.