“I won’t.”
“And if you hear anything more, keep me apprised.”
“I will.”
Alek rubbed a hand across his chin in thought, then asked. “Are you sure she’ll stay put for your return?”
“The Duke and his entourage will arrive at the castle in three days. I will have her out and to whatever rendezvous point you suggest before that. I won’t tell my father. By the time she is discovered missing, you will have her on her way to Drydon Keep by then.”
Alekzand’r looked concerned, his head snapping to attention. “I saw Fallon and his men heading for the castle two days ago. I stuck to the woods. They were on the trading route road. I wondered what their hurry was. They’ll be at the castle by tomorrow evening if they keep up the pace they were in.”
“What? He’s arriving earlier than expected.”
“On purpose I would imagine. Arriving early guarantees surprise, which means not enough time for your father to try something against him.”
“That doesn’t leave me any time at all. If Melenthia gets word that he is nearer than expected, she will flee, and I won’t be there to stop her.”
“Is she clever enough at least to stick to the woods?”
“Yes, I would bet that she would do her best not to be seen by anyone who would betray her. The people of the near-by villages love her, so they might harbor her, but I don’t think she would risk being seen down the main roads.”
“That still gives us some time. Return to the castle. Fly like the wind, Kevaan. You must get there before he does. You need to be there when he arrives. Take the old mining road and then cut your way north along the river. It may get you there just ahead, but barely. I will stick to the woods and back roads myself and keep my eye open for her. I promise I will find her and keep her hidden. I must go to an old friend, but it won’t take long. He will give me a way to hide from them and stay hidden all the way to Drydon Keep. Do what you can; I will do the rest.”
Kevaan placed a hand on his shoulder again and squeezed. “Thank you, Alek.”
“No thanks needed. Fallon is an awful punishment for anyone, especially one as lovely and kind hearted as Melenthia. I will do everything in my power to keep her safe, or die trying.”
They nodded to each other, pulled up their hoods once again, and rode off in opposite directions.
***
Alekzand’r galloped hard down the back roads, keeping himself hidden from eyes that might be watching. He thought about what Kevaan had told him. The worry he had about Duke Fallon seemed more urgent now, knowing what he knew. It seemed his want for power and domination were crossing over both borders and seeping into the houses of those who would most likely stand against him. If he wasn’t careful his house would be next. He couldn’t think of a rational reason why he would be attempting to control King Randor, but when speaking of Fallon, there was no rationality in anything. He was power hungry, and it seemed to Alek now, that the stories the locals told were more than just stories. Perhaps Fallon had indeed sold his soul to the Dark One in order to gain more power over the land. The thought was more than frightening; it gave him a chill so deep, he could feel it in his toes.
He rode through the woods, maneuvering his horse around the large trees. He had traveled these woods and back roads so often, he could safely pass through them at this speed with his eyes closed. But today he needed to keep sharp, his eyes needed to see every movement and be wary of every person he came in contact with. He was not worried about being seen at Sol’s cottage, for the sorcery kept it hidden from those he didn’t want to find him. Only friends could find Sol’s house. If he was indeed going to keep the princess safe, away from the spying eyes of those who would report to Fallon, he would need Sol’s help.
He approached the spot where he would have to dismount and lead his horse on foot. The way into Sol’s place was tricky to those who had never been there before, but even he was nervous that he might get lost in the hidden woods if he was not careful.
He jumped down from his horse and grabbed the reins, leading it around the bole of a huge tree. He took a quick moment to stretch his back and legs that had gotten stiff from the cold hard ride. He let the reins of his mount fall, his horse leaning down to graze on whatever foliage he could still find on the hard forest floor.
Alekzand’r leaned up against the tree, calling out, “Sol, it’s Alek. I need a favor.”
He waited for a few minutes, then felt the air around him change. He grabbed the reins of his horse again and walked around the same tree he had been leaning on. The forest was the same, but there was now a small path leading off to the right, that had not been there a few moments before. He took the path, winding through the trees for approximately a half mile before he saw a small cottage with a plume of smoke coming from out of the chimney. He walked to the front door, tied his horse to the rail just outside, and knocked. He waited for a few moments, then the door creaked open just slightly, and Alekzand’r pushed it open the rest of the way, stepping into the plain, but warm house.
There wasn’t much to adorn the roughly built cottage: a table with two chairs near the kitchen area on the right, a door leading to a tiny bedroom off to the left. A large bookcase stood against one wall with heavy leather bound books, maps and parchment strewn haphazardly on the shelves. There was a fireplace with two chairs in front of it toward the back of the room. Sol was sitting in one of the chairs, feet propped up on an overturned bucket, smoking a pipe.
Alekzand’r approached Sol, who looked his way for a moment, nodding, then turned back to the fire, the light of it dancing in his eyes.
Sol was older than Alek, but Alek never had the guts to ask how old he really was. He suspected he wouldn’t believe it even if he told him the truth. His face was wrinkled and pale, with crinkly lines at the edges of his eyes. His hair was straight and gray, and it touched his shoulders. He was wise but quiet, and he knew every inch of Aelethia better than all the map makers combined. He had strange ways and powers that Alek didn’t understand, or wanted to understand. But he was loyal and a good friend.
He continued to remain silent, puffing on his pipe and making halos over his head. Alek sat down in the other chair, removed his gloves and leaned forward, holding his now bare palms out toward the flames, rubbing them together to fight away the numbness from the cold.
Sol puffed on his pipe a few more times, then stood up and went to the pot that was hanging from a hook over the fire. He stirred the contents, grabbed a cup from off another shelf in the kitchen, and ladled a bit of the concoction into it. He handed it to Alek, who took it gratefully, sipping the liquid and feeling the warmth soothe his raw throat. Sol ladled more into another cup and sat down with it in the chair he had recently occupied. He sipped the liquid too, then sighed. “What brings you back to my doorstep, Alek, after so much time away?”
“I’m sorry, Sol, for not coming more often, but the king has me working more these days. I’m trying to put back together the broken parts of his kingdom that fell apart after his father’s untimely death. You know how people are, they tend to become lost when the leadership disappears.”
“Dain is their leadership now.”
“Yes, I know, but people get used to things the way they are. Most people don’t do well with change.”
“They love him, and most of the people seem to respect him.”
“Yes, that at least I can relax about. He has a good heart, like his father before him, but sometimes he seems so lost.”
“He is young yet.”
“He is ten years older now than his father was when he became king.”
“Times change, Alek. Young men are not as mature as their ancestors were before them. It’s unfortunate, but it seems that they don’t hold the same ideals or see the world as their elders