Chapter 137

Kelton stood before the tavern in Glorian Hollow, a village that saw its purpose in life as fur-trapping and the fishing of Glorian lake. O'fan assured Kelton the town leaned far from the King, and farther still from the Brethren. A sign of it was blazoned on the wall of the tavern; Kelton's name written in tar with one of the symbols backward. He smiled. It reminded him of the trouble he had creating his symbol press - a lifetime ago.

"That is the only road in?" Kelton asked O'fan, gesturing toward the way they came.

"Aye, sire," O'fan replied. "Lagneer is setting some to watch far down it. We will all take a turn."

"Paths?"

"Many, but they twist and turn. Hard going for horses and useless to wagons."

"They won't travel without wagons - not in numbers," Bynard added.

Kelton nodded. They were well off the King's Road, a slow detour for any army of high numbers. They traveled light, so the paths were good enough for them. With warning, they could quickly lose themselves far from the wagon-bound and choose directions that hamper horses. In the deep woods, it would be difficult to be outnumbered. He would have to trust the posted sentries. They all needed a break from arduous travel and the battle that shouldn't have been. A day and night here would do them all some good.

"The healers are being summoned. The nighthouse is small, but they claim one skilled with the needle," O'fan said as he led them to the tavern's entrance. It was a squat stone building that stretched deep into the trees, built in sections with some much older than others. It had grown over generations with portions of the roof higher than others, and stone replaced by wood in some parts.

"Tell Lagneer to add me to the watch," Kelton said.

"The watch is not for kings," O'fan said. There was a sense he meant to argue the point.

"It is not meant as a kindness," Kelton said. "If I am to put men to a duty, I must understand it well." He placed his hand on O'fan's shoulder. "And I remind you, I am not a king."

"Aye, sire," O'fan said, ignoring the last.

"You should fight more poorly if you don't desire the title, sire," Bynard said with a smile.

Kelton rolled his eyes and retracted his hand. "Then I shall buy my kingdom a round of ale. Mayhap, I will drown the title out of you all."

The din in the tavern faded to silence as Kelton and his army entered. Each of his men now wore a sword at their side, an image never seen on those not of King or Hold Lord. All eyes followed Kelton as he walked with a forced confidence cloaking his uncomfortableness. He moved toward the nearest open table. Unfortunately, word of him had arrived well before he had.

An older man clad in leathers rose from a table at the rear. His beard was gray, the darker hairs atop his head a few winters behind. With mug raised, he called out, "I welcome the Answer!" Others began rising and shouting their greetings. Red-faced, Kelton gave a small bow of thanks. There was no hiding here, and the salutes seemed to please his men. He hesitantly sat, the crowd looking on as if they expected something more.

Tagger limped in and called out, "Three have fallen." Thankfully, all attention moved to him. "I was there when the first fell, and there again when the three breathed no more. My mother was of the wilted-rose, and thus I am cursed since birth. I am the Answer's witness."

A cheer broke out, boisterous and echoing off the walls. There were calls of those who wished to join, and others claiming support. It was if they thought the battles already won. They knew nothing of the death to come. Kelton realized he knew nothing of it as well. The first battle was but a sour taste.

Lagneer sat down next to Kelton. "I see our losses in your eyes."

"It was planned poorly," Kelton whispered. He needed someone to talk to, someone whose heart would not skip over death or embrace an unrealized victory. "None needed to die."

"Nay," Lagneer said, shaking his head. Another cheer went up as Tagger hinted at telling the tale of the three who fell. The story grows. Hope grows. Kelton felt the strain of it became more oppressive.

"Many you lead will die. More who stand in our way will die. We tire of slow death at the hands of King and Brethren. Know that our fallen would do so again to end this plague." Lagneer said. He forced a smile. "It is victory we seek, and it is worth all we can give."

"We are not ready," Kelton said. "There is so much that needs doing. Armies need food, weapons, and training. The lack of supplies alone will end us if we do not secure them steadily." He turned fully to Lagneer. "We have failed to create bows. I have seen well-made one's fire at great distances, and yet our attempts snap trying to surpass a thrown spear." He sighed. "This thing has started, yet I struggle to see it succeed." It didn't feel better sharing his concerns. Burying them deep inside would have been better. Lagneer was not Gossamer.

"Food you say," Lagneer asked as if the rest could be ignored.

"Aye," Kelton verified. "A starving army is beaten before the first battle. The sword must be fueled, and that takes many more souls than we possess. Drivers for wagons, and healers, and..."

"Food is mine," Lagneer interrupted.

"What?" Kelton looked at the man as if he were addled.

"I will see to it," Lagneer said. "It will take travel, but I will gather your needs. I, and my fathers before me, have never failed to feed our tavern, even in times of blight." He smiled. "Many will heed your call as they do here. Task me with your needs, and I will gather an army of those who will fill them."

"An army requires much," Kelton warned.

"Then, you must time things with the harvests." Lagneer shrugged as if it were a simple thing. "It would be best if the King does not see his needs falling before yours are filled."

"And you could do this?" Kelton asked.

"I and many others," Lagneer said. "I will have stores of smoked fish and meat created. It is not hard for merchants to deviate wagons of grain. It will take time, but a moon before the cold claims the land, you will have all you need."

"I do not have coin for such things," Kelton said. There were other uses for the coins he did have, and feeding an army would take more than he could carry.

"Aye," Lagneer said. "We will build many debts, though some will be gifted. It is the King and Brethren's coffers that will see them paid. A gamble on victory." He looked around at the fledgling army who cheered along with the tavern. "Do we not do that already?"

"Aye," Kelton said. It felt as if some of the weight lifted from his shoulders.

"I can do nothing for these bow-things you dream of. But there are some who can handle the other tasks." Lagneer said. He signaled out Bynard and waved him forward. "Our king wishes many trained with the sword," Lagneer told Bynard.

"I and those who came with me can train as we were trained. And those trained can train others," Bynard said to Kelton, then chuckled. "They will not be as skilled as you."

Kelton began to feel lighter about the shoulders. It was like building the muzzle. Hand some of the parts to those who knew them best, the same men who have taken care of much since they left Fikin Crossing. He again realized he wasn't alone, though he had foolishly struggled to be.

Taggert started to demand ale for his tales. The tavern started pounding the mugs on the table to augment the demand. Kelton rose from his seat and raised his arms outstretched as if to hug a tall woman. It had the desired effect, silencing the crowd.

"We have lost two of our number," Kelton said. "Good men whose loss pains me - pains all of us. For them and their bravery, we will share a drink. Good owner," Kelton called out, not yet recognizing any who would claim the title. "I have coin enough to fill every mug."

Another cheer began as a woman walked swiftly toward Kelton. She was as tall as him and possessed the stature of confidence. He half expected a sword to appear to match the expression on her face.

"You claim enough coin?" the woman demanded.

"Aye," Kelton said, standing to meet her eyes. She had brown hair threaded with wisps of gray that seemed to have appeared early than the winters her eyes claimed.

"It will take a barrel to fill this count."

"A barrel then," Kelton said.

"Ten gold," the woman said. The cost seemed high, but Kelton felt committed. Next time, he would have to be more careful. He fished into his pack and produced the coin, much to the surprise of those around him.

"Your coin, my lady," Kelton said with a slight bow.

The woman smiled as Kelton placed the coins in her hand. She bounced their weight, then reached for Kelton's hand and put them back in his palm. "Use them well, Answer," she said, then turned toward the room. "Marta, Lindsi, see to all the mugs!"

Lagneer laughed as the woman cradled Kelton's face and kissed his forehead. It wasn't like Yanda's soft pecks of caring; it was a brutal demand of mashed lips. She tossed his head back to him and smiled. Two of her teeth were missing, but it didn't detract from the joy of her expression.

The owner leaned in and whispered into Kelton's ear. "I will call us even if your young teller spins a tale or two."

"Taggert," Kelton called out, gathering Taggert's attention. "A tale of our battle if you will, and that of the bravery of our fallen." Taggert bowed deeper than necessary, an exaggerated movement that brought the eyes of the inn to him. The young Gossamer needed no time to prepare, and stitched together a riveting story that awed the patrons, and put smiles on those who fought. Kelton was happy that the attention had moved away from him. It gave him time to think of what was to come. He wondered if the war could be timed, as Lagneer suggested. It would be a useful thing to gather an army only when it could be fed. Everything he read dealt with standing armies, not one that emerged on demand. Training such a beast would be tricky. They would have to become skilled before they gathered.

"I thank you..." Kelton said to the owner, leaving open her name. She had surprised him by bringing him a mug, a sign of respect since the rest of the tavern was served by a boy and two young women.

"Rani, Answer," the woman said, filling in Kelton's sentence with her name. Her sleeve road high on her arm as she placed the mug on the table. A woven bracelet circled her wrist, one Kelton had seen before. It was identical to the gift he received from Marnice so long ago. Rani was in league with the Seven.

"It seems we share friends," Kelton whispered. The rest of the tavern was lost in another of Taggert's tale, so the words were private.

"Aye, we are all friends here," Rani said, retracting her arm. Kelton realized the display of the bracelet was not intentional.

Kelton stood and leaned into her ear, his hand wrapped about the bracelet on her wrist. "Tell them I am coming to see them."

"Who?" Rani asked though the bewilderment had left her eyes.

"The Seven," Kelton said, then leaned back with a smile as if the conversation was light. At least that's how he wished all others to see it. He released her wrist. "It is a fine place you have. Has it been in your family long?"

"Aye," Rani replied, wearing the same smile as Kelton. "It has been owned by one of my blood since the first stone was laid. See to your patrons, and they will see to you, my father always said. And now the Answer sits here." She reached up and patted Kelton's cheek. "And I will see to your needs."

"I thank you again, Rani," Kelton said. They traded real smiles before she parted. Fate, it seemed, was encompassing the day in Kelton's favor. Food, training, and now a warning to the Seven to speed a future meeting. Perhaps the Goddess did exist. He smiled at his linking of good things to the Goddess. Perhaps he should blame her for the failures as well.

"Do not waste free ale," Lagneer said, lifting his mug to his lips. "It is a rare thing, and we may not live to see it again."

Kelton was deep into his second mug, where it came from he had no idea, when five women entered the tavern, each possessing the wilted-rose. One, the mother by her age, looked about the room, her eyes falling on O'fan, who waved her over. The mother moved to him, but the other four stood near the door, scanning the room until they found Kelton. He cursed his red hair and emptied the mug trying to remain oblivious to their pointing and smiling whispers. Without a hood, anonymity would never be his.

"They desire you," Lagneer said, a snicker followed his words.

"A warm night would do you good, my King," Bynard said, sliding another full mug next to Kelton's empty one. Without thinking, Kelton took the fresh ale and sipped. It was something to do, which allowed him to ignore the eyes upon him. The weight of all that stood before him would be easier to bear if not for the scrutiny.

Taggert's tales were interrupted, much to the tavern's dismay, as O'fan and the Mother led him away so his wound could be stitched. That released more eyes, and the thoughts behind them, to the Answer. Kelton had to remind himself why he agreed to be the hero of the ancient tale. It was for Joycelyn and Juno. He forced his anger to return, and the idea of what was to come became manageable, as did bearing attention. Vengeance could hide many problems, even the deaths caused at his hands. He swallowed another sip that bordered on a gulp. Perhaps he should live in anger, let it swell inside, and ignore all the evil left in its wake. Another mug was placed next to him, and the server pointed across the room where a group of men, locals by the look of them, stood and raised their mugs in salute. Kelton smiled and raised his, accepting their gift.

The ale helped, drowning out the Knowing which was ignited by the coming and goings of the crowded tavern, a useless tool with such numbers and annoying to ponder upon. It was as if he were looking into the sun and blinded by too much light.

"Slow if you wish a turn at guard," Lagneer said, his hand stalling Kelton's next move to drink. "Free ale is as potent as that bought with coin." He smiled, which did much to dull the new spike of anger Kelton felt at the interruption. Anger begat anger, so Kelton let it fade. It was another useless tool outside of battle.

"I wish to lose myself," Kelton said, putting the mug down. "It is a hard thing coming." He chuckled as he felt the ale warm his thoughts. "Can death be drowned away?"

"You do what you must, nothing more," Lagneer said.

"I lose myself in an ancient tale," Kelton admitted, the ale making the talking easier. He looked at Bynard. "I thought they would surrender - had dreams of them joining as you had." Kelton shook his head. "Instead, they chose to battle, and my insides churned with fire." He held his hand in front of him, palms up, and stared at them. "It is as if these hands know more than I."

"It is the Goddess who leads you," Bynard said.

Kelton laughed. The idea of it seemed infantile. If the Goddess, or the All-Father, or any other deity wanted this or that, they could take it. The all-powerful didn't need him for their tasks. Perhaps they played games, pushing men this way and that to enjoy the turmoil. Nay, the evil to come was all his, and it would consume him as he defeated a worse one. Perhaps he would become the evil that needed to be overcome.

Lagneer moved the mugs away from Kelton. A wise move, Kelton thought. He had too much in him already, more than enough to dull the edge of death's memories. His eyes welled up as he again thought of the last battle - killing for weapons they needed to kill some more. Kelton was nothing more than a seed, and evil was sprouting forth and growing into some decrepit tree.

"Mayhap, you should lose yourself between some legs," Bynard said, his eyes shifting to indicate the smiling cursed. The idea angered Kelton. He knew Bynard meant well but was not the whole idea of the Answer to end such things. Evil, once blossomed, becomes normality.

"A moment's pleasure will not remove the pain," Kelton said. It came out with more force than he intended. The rebuke was for his situation, but it sounded like more of an attack on Bynard.

Lagneer chuckled, patting Bynard on the back as a way to diffuse. Lagneer was smarter than Kelton had first thought, perhaps as wise as Gossamer. "Mayhap, you have been doing it wrong if it only takes a moment." Bynard snickered at the idea.

Kelton ignored the humor. It was the statement that panicked him. He had always known how it worked, but never realized there were talents involved. "It can be done wrong?"

All humor faded from the two as they looked at each other wide-eyed, then back at Kelton. There was something in their faces that made Kelton lean backward. He had said too much or perhaps said it with too much interest.

"You have never?" Bynard asked. It was not said loudly, nor meant to insult. There was only concern in his voice, though Kelton failed to understand why. He ate and slept like all others. He had met many who had lain with women, and some who had not, they seemed no different from each other. Yet, so many seemed to think it essential. And they had not answered his question. If it were so important, they should be concerned he knew the correct way.

"Never?" Lagneer asked as well.

"Can it be done wrong?" Kelton asked again, ale swirling in the thoughts. Others had always made him feel as if he were missing something, and now they hid the secrets of it. The last thing he desired was to be the fool if he did find the one he sought. His ale fogged mind saw Juno laughing at his ignorance, and it was far worse than any fate he could imagine. Better that he fell on his blade.

"Goddess," Lagneer said. He again exchanged glances with Bynard. "But this we can remedy." He smiled. "And nay, it can not be done wrong, but can be done better."

"Aye, better," Bynard said as he stood, a smile gracing his lips. Lagneer joined him on his feet, and between them, they raised Kelton to his.

Better? Kelton steadied himself and forced the ale from his muscles - will could do such a thing. "How is it done better?" Kelton asked. The knowledge seemed more important than how to topple a king.

"It is like the sword," Bynard said, helping Lagneer steer Kelton around the table and toward the four cursed. "Practice is most important." Lagneer chuckled.

"I was always shown things first," Kelton argued. "How does one learn such things when they are not shown?" His eyes widened when he saw where they were headed.

"Ladies," Lagneer said as a way of greeting, "The Answer desires a night of pleasure. I have coin enough for the one he chooses."

"Ohh," one of the four said. She was older than Kelton, and her body seemed to sway as she spoke. Long golden hair spilled down from her head. "I will send your troubles far away, Answer." She moved closer, her hips floating in a tantalizing manner.

"Or, mayhap, you desire laughter," a younger one said. Her smile was mischievous, highlighting steady green eyes. She bit her bottom lip. "We can find dreams together."