Kaelor

Prelude Two

Read before Chapter 5 of Stone & Sky

A crack in his neck rattled through Kaelor’s spine as he rolled his head deliberately from side to side. The elf did this every morning at the end of his meditation. His chamber window was only just beginning to let light in as the dawn approached. His internal alarm had woken him well before sunrise, like it did every day.

He stood slowly to his feet and stretched his arms out wide, taking a deep breath. His whole chest swelled with his lungs as he took in the cool morning air. He maneuvered his arms high above his head and brought his hands in close. Any onlooker would have thought the graceful movements some kind of dance. But for the elf, it was the way he prepared for each day.

Kaelor loved routine. He loved everything to be neat and orderly. Each piece of his glimmering armor was in its perfect place on the rack or on the table next to it.

Except one…

He reached over toward the table and adjusted one of the gauntlet fingers that rested out of line with the others. It must have settled while he slept. Certainly, he wouldn’t have left it that way. Some would think it crazy to adjust such a thing, when the elf planned to put the gauntlet on in only a few minutes, anyway. But Kaelor would argue that order is a prelude to peace.

The elf methodically outfitted himself in his armor. It had been specially crafted for him and his role. He was the king’s aide. And while the king had his faults, Kaelor took his responsibilities seriously.

Once he was satisfied that all the pieces of his armor were properly in place, he walked over to the window for a quick glance. He looked out over the city of Tamaria from his high vantage in the castle. The city’s famous watchtowers rose above all the other buildings, sporadically placed among the rolling hills that Tamaria had been built upon. The towers were of many different designs. Some elven, some dwarven, and even some designed by men. The watchtowers had been built with careful planning. As the city continued to grow, they built new towers on the outskirts, and never tore down the old ones. In fact, they still manned the inner towers to this day.

In the early morning before the dawn, the towers looked like a bunch of monumental torches. Kaelor knew, of course, that the dawn shift of guards would be replacing the night shift soon, and the fires at the top of each tower would be squelched. But the king’s aide always loved that view just before the sun rose. He smiled as he stole one last look.

He nodded to himself, Right. Time to get to it then.

Kaelor spun on his heel and left his chamber. He had many things to accomplish today, not the least of which was the king’s court. The aide loved the people of Tamaria—and he wanted to serve them well—but he didn’t like the days when they opened the king’s court. There were legitimate concerns that people brought, of course.

But then there were the other ones…

All too often, people would bring unrealistic requests or even outlandish claims before the king. King Hugen—not one to look ungenerous to his people—would look to Kaelor with an air of pleading and ask if there was anything that they could do. The aide would, of course, tell the king that there was nothing they could do for the unrealistic request. At which point, the king would turn back to the Tamarian citizen and apologize with feigned compassion. Kaelor would nod to the guards and they would usher the poor citizen out.

Sometimes, however, someone would come with an outlandish claim that would pique the king’s interest. He was always up for a good tale. Kaelor hated when this happened. It always threw a turn in his schedule. Chaos is not the friend of order, he’d think to himself. But King Hugen had his own ways.

The enormous king was a man with a particular appetite. Or rather, his appetite never seemed to be satiated. When looking upon the fat slovenly man, people usually had one of two reactions: it’s good to be the king or pure revulsion.

Oh, he smiled alright, always trying to be loved by the people. But his glutenous ways were easy to see, and no one seemed to be under any illusion that King Hugen genuinely cared about anyone but himself.

Kaelor had not picked him to be king, nor did any of the people. But the elf had served Hugen’s father before him, and King Joran had been a fair and even man. How had the apple fallen so far from the tree? Was it on a hill? Maybe the top of a mountain?

Either way, it was Joran who’d appointed Kaelor, and the elf would serve as the king’s aide as long as he was invited to hold the position. He was very good at his job, and King Hugen didn’t mind that the elf took care of many things that he didn’t have to worry about. It was quite the arrangement for the sloth king.

Kaelor sighed as he rounded a corner toward the front doors of the keep. When he swung them open, he was met by a troop of guards standing in straight rows.

Well, except for one…

The elf stopped mid-step and leaned to the left. He stared down the row, not saying a word. A young guard near the rear of the formation locked eyes with the king’s aide and fidgeted nervously. Kaelor raised his eyebrows and flicked his gaze to the right a few times. The young guard caught on, cleared his throat, and slid sheepishly to his left.

Now satisfied that the rows were in proper order, Kaelor turned toward the captain of the guard. The human man with long greying hair had been watching and awaiting the elf’s arrival.

“Master Kaelor,” the captain acknowledged him.

“Captain,” the elf nodded back. “The order is given. Change the guard.”

“Dawn guard!” the captain called out over the troops. “Tamaria is in need of your service. Man your posts.”

Without a word, the gathered guards dispersed. They would each get to their designated watchtowers for their shift just before the sun broke the horizon. They would have a long day on duty. As Kaelor watched them leave, however, he thought that his day would be even longer than theirs.

The captain raised an eyebrow and smiled at the king’s aide, “Not looking forward to the king’s court today, huh?”

Kaelor drew in a long breath. Truthfully, he was not. But he only replied, “Thank you, captain.”

The captain nodded, still seeming quite amused at the elf’s obvious disdain for today’s schedule, and walked through the front doors of the keep.

Kaelor took one more breath of fresh morning air. He hated the king’s court. And for some reason, he had the sneaking suspicion that this day would have no shortage of chaos.

The young guards did their best to sort the people as they came into the king’s court. The people with legitimate concerns or business with the king were ushered to the front of the room. The usual suspects for conspiracy and gossip were sorted to the back. Everyone undetermined was placed in the middle. It wasn’t an easy job, but Kaelor was thankful that they listened to his guidance and helped to sort them as best they could. Though it would not weed out wild cards, it would certainly help them to stay on track. With any luck, they wouldn’t be at this all day.

Order and efficiency, his favorite game.

Kaelor watched happily as the two guards sorted the last few people into place. They were doing fine.

“Uh… sir.”

The king’s aide turned to address another young guard. He found great amusement in the young man’s uncomfortable stance. Guard duty for the king’s court was a less-than-desirable station. And unfortunately for them, the youngest guards usually drew the short stick for the assignment.

“Settle, young Travish,” the elf encouraged.

“Uh, yes, sir!” he fidgeted and stood straighter.

Kaelor shook his head. He knew this guard by name. He’d had a couple of encounters with him. He was young, but loyal. He always seemed to be trying to go above and beyond. But he was also, gullible. A bad combination in a guard unit. It occurred to Kaelor that one of the other guards may have convinced young Travish that volunteering for king’s court duty was a noble thing.

It is certainly a sacrifice, Kaelor thought.

“Come, Travish. The king’s court will start soon.”

The elf reached out a comforting shoulder tap, but Travis flinched.

“Well, that’s just it, sir…” he started.

“What? What is it?”

“Well… how can you have a king’s court with no king?”

“What?” A sudden flush of annoyance flooded Kaelor’s face. “Where is the king, Travish?”

“Well, that’s just it, sir…”

“Travish. Spit it out, son.”

“I can’t find him… sir.”

“Rrrr…” Kaelor growled.

Travish winced.

The king’s aide shook his head again and patted the young guard on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Travish,” the elf let out a heavy sigh. “You go man your post.”

“But I’m the king’s chair, sir. The king is my post. I—”

“Travish,” Kaelor made his eyes as kind as he could and leveled them with the young guard’s. “I will retrieve the king. You make sure the chair is secure for when he gets there. Yes?”

“Yes, sir!”

Travish sauntered into the court and posted up next to the king’s chair. He shifted awkwardly. He was the only person at the front of the room, so all eyes were on him. He made no comments. He avoided direct eye contact. He just stared straight, as if he were in formation.

The king’s aide let out another deep sigh and headed for the kitchen.

Kaelor’s face twitched with concern at Neli’s insistence that she hadn’t seen the king in the kitchen all morning.

“I had these pastries prepared before sun up this morning,” the halfling said, waving her round fingers over a pile of delicious-looking flaky pastries. “But we haven’t seen King Hugen at all this morning. Thought he might be sick. Or that you had him on errands.”

The elf watched the halfling mill about the kitchen swiftly. She was a great cook. And like any halfling that can cook, she was rounder than she was tall. If King Hugen wasn’t a man, Kaelor thought that the round king would have been a very good halfling. He certainly liked the lavish, more comfortable things in life. But alas, he was born a man and easily twice the height of any halfling. That didn’t stop the king from enjoying life, though.

“Coming out hot!” Neli yelled, as a human woman weaved around her.

The smell of the freshly baked bread made Kaelor hungry. He was an elf of few needs and got hungry only rarely, but Neli’s bread did the trick. The aroma of warm honey bread enveloped the kitchen.

Neli smiled up at the elf’s whimsical look. She took pride in her ability to make desirable delicacies. “Here, now.” She handed him a piece that she’d just cut away from the loaf. “Careful, now. It’s hot!”

Kaelor nodded thankfully, as he chewed with his mouth open, not able to close it around the hot bread. He managed the bite down. “Pardon me. And thank you.”

“Now shoo,” Neli said. “I can’t have you bogging up my kitchen. Go find the king. And take him a pastry!”

Kaelor accepted her commands and grabbed a pastry to take with him. He backed out of the kitchen into the king’s banquet hall. It was empty.

Travish hadn’t found the king in his chambers, so it didn’t seem worthwhile to ascend the king’s tower.

But then a thought struck him…

When Kaelor entered the king’s trophy hall, sure enough, he found King Hugen standing and admiring one of his newer trophies. “My King,” the elf said.

“Oh, Kaelor. Come, come. Look at the craftsmanship of this Whitestone armor. See the way they shape the metal? It’s so different from our own.”

The aide walked over next to his king and gazed upon the armor. “The Griffin Guard of Whitestone has to design their armor this way. It must be maneuverable and light. Fighting battles on griffin-back through the air is no easy task.”

“Yes, yes. But isn’t it shiny?”

Kaelor shook his head in disbelief. “Here,” he said, offering the king the pastry he carried.

“Oooh! For me? Neli does know me, so well.”

He took the pastry in his grubby hands and inhaled it. Crumbs rolled out the sides of his mouth. Berry jelly oozed down his fat chin and onto his robes. It was hard to watch. The king wiped at the jelly and flicked his sticky fingers. A small glob of jelly splatted on the armor before Kaelor could save it. King Hugen decided that flicking the jelly away wouldn’t work, and instead, he licked his grimy fingers clean. Or maybe not so clean.

Kaelor wiped the jelly away from the guardian armor reverently. Then, he lifted it back up to the hanger that had been placed specifically for the piece. The armor wasn’t all that shiny. In fact, it had taken quite a beating. King Hugen had collected several pieces from the recent battle that Tamaria had witnessed between the Griffin Guard and the wyvern-riding orcs of Drelek. It had been a bloody battle, and the whole of the guardian squadron had been killed before the remaining orcs flew north into the night.

Well, except for one…

One of the guardians had been found by a huntsman’s daughter and they were trying to heal him. It had been a few weeks since the horrible battle, though, and it was reported that the guardian had hardly awoken in all that time. But the huntsman’s daughter was a skilled healer, and it was generally thought that the guardian would make it.

As the king gobbled the rest of the honey bread that Kaelor hadn’t finished, the elf looked over some of the new pieces on the wall. There were a couple of orc weapons. A jagged sword. A throwing axe. A new pike. But the items from the Griffin Guard stung. The armor was pretty beat up and had a deep gash on it. The shield had an enormous dent in it from an orc weapon or the plummet to the ground. Kaelor couldn’t know for sure. There was a spear, though a long crack splintered the wood along its length. And finally, there was a long, thin, curved sword. It was the most intact piece, and its beautiful craftsmanship was evident. A symbol that Kaelor didn’t recognize marked the blade just above the hilt.

This was a sad monument to the battle. An ever-present reminder of the loss. The battle had been so strange. The Griffin Guard squadron had been defeated. But even stranger was the fact that it had been so near to the city of Tamaria. It was unusual to see an orc wyvern squadron this far south. The thought of it made everyone uneasy.

Kaelor sighed. It could be a long king’s court today.

“My King, we need to get to the court. Your people are waiting.”

“Ah, yes. Yes…” King Hugen grumbled. “How do I look?”

The elf examined the lard of a man. His grotesque frame, covered in the hideously colored robes, was hard to look at.

“Kingly,” Kaelor lied.

“Excellent! Let’s go make the people fall in love with me, all over again!”

It had already been a long morning. People with legitimate business dealings for the king were shuffled through rather quickly. But when Grell, the master huntsman—and patriarch of the family that was nursing the lone surviving griffin guardian—stepped before the chair, King Hugen heaved his rotund body forward in anticipation.

“Hello, yer majesty,” the grizzly bear of a man started. His blazing red hair and beard were peppered with grey. The huntsman was a mountain. He looked as though he were as heavy as the king, but his weight was distributed into stocky muscle. “I am Grell, master huntsman. It’s been me privileged honor to host the guardian from Whitestone as he heals.”

The gruff man’s words came out forced, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable using such formalities. At the mention of the guardian, whispers rippled through the assembly. Much gossip had spread about the guardian’s well-being, but only Grell and his family knew the true extant of his injuries and his recovery.

“Yes, yes! Do tell us how our heroic guardian is doing, Master Huntsman!” King Hugen said with as much compassion as he could muster. “We have all been so terribly worried over him.”

“Aye,” Grell nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t think he was ever going to wake up. But ye know, me daughter Ellaria is a skilled healer. Even better than her mother, she is. But don’t go telling Marie I said that, now. Eh?”

People all around laughed at his sheepish retraction.

“Wait,” Kaelor cut in. “Are you saying that the guardian has awoken?”

“Aye.”

The place burst into excited whispers again.

“Ah, Tamaria rejoice!” King Hugen shouted. “I had no doubts that if the guardian could be healed, the people of our great city would be the ones for the task!”

The tone of some of the people’s whispers shifted from excitement to condescension.

King Hugen looked to his aide.

“And what is his status?” Kaelor asked the master huntsman.

“He seems okay. He’s been sleeping for a long while now. And Ellaria’s been at his side for most of it. He’s been well cared for.”

“I have no doubt!” the king piped.

“Have you spoken to him yet?” the elf asked.

“Aye.”

“Marvelous!” King Hugen shouted.

“Uh… yeah,” Grell hesitated. It seemed like the huntsman didn’t really know what else to say. So, he grumbled, “Marvelous might be a little too fancy a word for it…”

Someone snickered at the uncomfortable scene, causing many others to chuckle along. Even the king joined into the laughter. Though he did so only to appear as a jovial king before his people.

“And what did the guardian say?” Kaelor asked, getting a little annoyed at the lack of order.

“Ah, yes. Well…” the great huntsman shifted. “Not much, really. We talked o’ the ways o’ the Griffin Guard. And a little bit on Whitestone. And a little on—”

“Master Grell,” the elf paused him, recognizing that it was going to be difficult to get any information out of the man without prompting. “What did the guardian say about the battle?”

“Er. Not much… He had a hard time remembering. I think ye might too if ye fell off a griffin down to the ground.”

“Yes. I suppose so,” Kaelor mused. “But did he have any idea why the battle came so close to Tamaria?”

All the people seemed to tense. It was rather unusual to have a battle so near their city. If they were honest, most of them were afraid of what the answer might be. But then again, imaginations can run wild when fear is involved. So, the king’s aide thought it better to know the reason.

“No…” Grell scratched at his bushy red and grey beard. “Like I said. He doesn’t seem to remember much o’ the battle. It does seem strange, though, that they were so close,” the huntsman voiced everyone else’s thoughts.

“I been tellin’ ye thar been strangeties happenin’ all abouts the western farmlands!” a gravelly voice shouted.

Everyone in the room fell silent, as an older man pushed his way toward the front. He was covered in dirt from head to toe. It was hard to tell what color his hair was because he was completely dusted in brown. He seemed to slink as he walked, and Travish flinched next to Kaelor when he saw the man.

“You know this man?” the elf whispered.

“Yes, sir. It’s Mr. Macintroh. He has the farm just to the north of the Rolling River. His wife and my mum were good friends. They—”

“But none o’ ye lissened! Ye dinnit!”

Grell shuffled over to make room for the frantic farmer.

“Oh, but I did listen!” King Hugen said with a big wave of his outstretched arms. “I hear all my people. That’s why, even as we speak, seed from Telro is being transported for the northwest farmlands.”

Approving whispers rolled around the room.

“But ye dinnit do nothin’ fer her! They killt her, they did! And ye let ‘em!”

The dusty old farmer brandished his walking stick high above his head, swinging wildly as he ran toward the king. Travish was quick, though, and he tackled the old farmer.

Macintroh screamed.

People watched in horror as he yelled incoherently at the king and the guards wrestled him out of the room. His piercing blue eyes, the only thing on him that wasn’t brown, let out tears that streaked the dirt into mud on his face.

“Well. Well now…” King Hugen tried to regain control of the room. “Sometimes people just want to complain. I have done nothing but help the farmers. Right?”

The king looked at Kaelor. The grotesque man had very little information on the seed from Telro. The elf was the one that had managed the acquisition.

“Yes, my King. The farmers are being well taken care of.”

“Right! See?”

The people in the assembly didn’t seem quite so convinced. King Hugen looked around, trying to figure out some way to move this along. His eyes fell upon the master huntsman, still standing toward the front.

“Ah, Grant!”

“Uh… it’s Grell, sire,” Grell said, a little surprised that the attention was being tossed back on him.

“Yes. Right. I would like to have a meeting with the guardian right away!”

The mention of the guardian distracted the people from the chaos that Macintroh had brought into the room. A member of the famed Griffin Guard of Whitestone was in their city, after all! There would be much to gossip about it around the stalls in the market squares this week.

“Uh… Yes, yer majesty. I’ll have Ellaria bring him to ye when he is able.”

“Splendid! Splendid!”

With that matter dealt with and excitement filling the room, they moved on to other business.

Kaelor paid no attention to the next few people who came before the king. His mind was elsewhere. He thought of what the dirty farmer had said. Who had been killed? Why? How?

There were a lot of questions left unanswered, but the elf planned on being in the meeting with the guardian from Whitestone. He did not know what they would learn from the man, but he wanted any information they could get.

There was a growing unrest around Tamaria. And no one had any answers.

Except maybe one…

Unrest leads to chaos. Kaelor did not like what that might mean for their kingdom.

Not one bit.