The Fenimeldiyaan: Rogue Time - Chapter 2

River smiled at the green haired man a little shyly. She had liked him better when he was further away from her. In answer in answer to his question, she gave a quick nod, pulling away from him a bit. 

The red-haired man was complaining. "Reth, I specifically asked you not to use magic!" he said. "Do I have green hair? Blue? Purple?"

"Red," the blonde woman answered, shaking her head. "Just as usual."

"Rachel!" the red-head blurted out, turning the same shade as his hair for a moment. "What're you doing here?" Will, the green haired man had called him.

"Looking for you. I seem to have attracted the unwanted attention of the king, and I thought that you might be able to get me out of it," she said. "Though you weren't really in any condition to help me a few moments ago."

Will glared at the man he'd called Reth. "You're lucky you didn't blow my head off!" he told him. "Didn't I tell you not to use magic? It shouldn't have worked, anyway!"

Searching through the books, River produced one that didn't have any writing in it and found a charcoal pencil near it. She scribbled out her words and turned it to show the others. "You were weak. Magic blocks don't work as well when the person is ill."

Will stared at her after Rachel translated for him--he must not have been able to read. "Magic block? Is that what it's called?" he asked, looking bemused. River nodded. Then, sheepishly, the young man added, "I didn't properly thank you. You saved me."

"I can't stand the sight of someone being beaten." River shivered, a few scars on her own back aching at the memory. "Even if you did steal from them."

"Occupational hazard," Will said with a grin. "Now, Rachel, why are you running from the king? What does he want from you?"

"He wants me to fight in the war," Rachel replied. "And I won't."

"Ooh, that's bound to annoy him," Will agreed. "But where do you want to go? Hindustan? That's not exactly safe either."

"Also, there's the problem of the old woman watching the house," Rachel added.

Will snorted. "An old woman? You're afraid of an old woman? Honestly?"

"Will--" Reth began.

"Don't worry so about me, Reth," Will said, waving a hand. "If she's got magic, well, I'm in tip-top shape now, thanks to your spell. If she doesn't, what harm can an old woman do? I'll go and tell her off. Problem solved." Without another word, he went outside, drawing his sword as he went.

River scribbled in the borrowed book and turned it to Reth and Rachel. "Magic users never have just one trick. Although he's immune, who knows what she'll do?"

"Is she a magic user?" Rachel asked. River nodded. "Ugh, why does he never listen? He's going to be the death of me one of these days." She quickly went out after Will.

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As Morgan sought to finish regaining his breath, Gerald was irritated. "Y'mean we be stuck here? Blimey! We ain't been here twenty minutes and something's already tried to kill us."

"Gerald?" Morgan said.

"Aye?" 

"Stop talking." The mage was focusing, trying to cast the spell Andreas wanted. 

Of course, with Gerald's annoyance grinding his teeth, he cast the wrong spell. The pull in his gut was enough to tell him that a simple stealth spell hadn't been cast.

The good news was that the spell was just as effective as the stealth spell he'd wanted. He pulled Gerald and Andreas out of the way as the roof above the stairs collapsed, covering the stairs in rubble in a matter of seconds. "Stealthy," Gerald commented, coughing on the dust.

Morgan blushed. "Wrong spell."

"No kidding." Gerald couldn't help but feel impressed at the massive damage the mage had caused. There wasn't even a crack exposed in the wall of rocks. "Blimey."

"It's a good distraction," Morgan said with a shrug. "And we should probably get going. You know, in case they get through." And he hadn't had to tap into his darkness--another good thing. For the wrong spell, it had been effective.

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Elaine curled up in the corner of her cell. Although she'd maintained her cold facade on the way there, she was no longer able to uphold it when the guards left her. She covered her eyes and cried. What had she been thinking? Elsa would have gotten away with this, but she never could. Now they were going to punish her, imprison her, or maybe even kill her! And she didn't even have a pin to pick the lock on her cell. 

She felt so pathetic.

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Dorrie pondered what to do. She had cast an amplifying spell on the people inside the healer’s house so that she could eavesdrop without having to get too close. It seemed that at least one of them was already suspicious of her, so she would have to play this out carefully. The last thing she wanted was to lose her chance of gaining two new apprentices.

The people inside the house already knew that she was there, so running away was not an option. Due to the excess weight she carried, she was not very fast on her feet and translocating would drain her powers for anything up to half an hour, leaving her vulnerable to attacks.

She decided on a bold approach, marching, or rather waddling, up to the door of the house and knocking loudly. It was opened by a young man with green hair and silver eyes. Behind him were the red-haired man and the attractive blonde woman.

Dorrie grinned at them, showing stained and broken teeth. “Sorry to disturb ye, me dears, but I be lost. I were on me way to visit a friend when I were set upon by bandits. They knocked me unconscious, took all me belongings and left me stranded. Might I prevail upon yer generosity to beg a bed for the night and perhaps something to eat? I be starving”.

“You don’t exactly look starving” the red-haired man remarked.

“Sssh, Will!” the blonde woman admonished, trying to stifle a giggle.

Dorrie burst out laughing, her chubby cheeks and chin wobbling. “Got big bones, so I have” she commented, patting her broad hips. “Anyways, will ye help out a poor old woman? Surely ye don’t want me to spend the night alone in this dangerous forest?”

“Err … of course not” the green-haired man spoke. “The problem is, my house is quite small and all the beds are taken at the moment. Also, my cupboard isn’t exactly full right now”.

“I can bed down on the floor” Dorrie said, grinning again. “And just a crust of bread will do for now. I can hunt, so I’ll catch us something for the pot when I’ve regained me strength. Twill be coming on to dusk soon, a good time for hunting”.

The green-haired man turned to look at the others, as if seeking their approval. The blonde woman shrugged helplessly while the red-haired man let out a heavy sigh. “Alright” the green-haired man conceded. “Come in and rest”.

Dorrie gave another sickly grin and followed them inside.

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“Where we going?” Gerald asked, looking at Morgan.

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. Just away from here”.

“The dungeons” Andreas suggested. “Last place anyone will go looking for spies”.

“Oh, no, not dungeons again” Gerald said with a heavy sigh. “Every time we visit a castle, we always end up in the dungeons”.

“Tis the best place to hide while we try to figure out what went wrong with the translocation” Andreas insisted.

Gerald gave him a disgusted look but followed along anyway. Morgan trailed behind, struggling to keep up.

A long winding staircase led down to the dungeons. Some of the steps were worn and uneven, so they had to make their way with care. 

Gerald’s lame leg was aching and throbbing by the time they reached the dungeons. Morgan was puffing and panting, his face red from the exertion. By contrast, Andreas looked as though he could run several marathons. 

“What now?” Gerald asked, looking around at the all-too familiar grimness of their surroundings and thinking that all dungeons looked alike.

“Find an empty cell and hide in it” Andreas said, already on the move again. 

Most of the cells were empty, but Andreas rejected them for various reasons. One was too close to the staircase, another was too clean, and so on. 

“She doesn’t look like a criminal or a spy” Morgan commented, gesturing towards a red-haired girl with silver eyes, curled up in a corner of a cell. 

“Ye be too trusting” Gerald admonished. “For all we know, she could be a mass murderer or a powerful sorceress”.

“Silver eyes” Andreas muttered, leaning in close to the bars. “Now where have I seen a girl with silver eyes afore? Mayhap twas on Losintho”. He shook his head. “No, Losinthans all have white hair. Must have been somewhere else”.

Out of habit, his hand went into the pocket of his suit jacket, bringing out a set of lock-picks. In an instant, he had the door to the girl’s cell unlocked. 

“Get away!” the girl yelled, waving her hands at him. “I don’t want anything to do with Hindustanis. I’m in enough trouble as it is”.

Andreas chuckled and shook his head. “Ye be mistaken, me dear. I can understand why ye took me for a Hindustani”. He stroked his moustache and twisted his long tail of hair through his fingers. “Hindustanis be of similar skin colour and hair colour to most Varathusians. Easy mistake to make. Anyways, seems like ye’ve got a story to tell and we’ve got time on our hands, so let’s hear it”.

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It was fairly easy to sneak into the castle. All Ramsey and Elspeth had to do was to wait for the changing of the guard – a ridiculously overdone ritual – and fly up to one of the balconies.

“I ssstill don’t see why we have to do thisss,” Elspeth spat, shrugging the robe off from one of her back spikes. Ramsey had suggested that Elspeth wear something a little more prudent for their little outing, but, as always, she didn’t listen.

“If not us, then who, might I asssk?” Ramsey questioned.

He shifted to human form, pulling on his own tunic and trousers. He’d chosen a dark grey so that he’d blend in to the castle walls. Elspeth, on the other hand, was in the middle of draping her stout body in her favourite faux-silk floral robe. Ramsey gritted his teeth at the sight of his wife. Even in the dim light of the evening, the roses and snapdragons on Elspeth’s robe stood out like a donkey in a carrot patch. Ramsey made a mental note not to say that out loud.

Elspeth groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. “Someone younger, fer starters!”

“Shh, love.” Ramsey closed his eyes, allowing his right index finger to Shift back to its talon form, just enough so that he could pick the lock of the heavy oak door. Gripping the worn edge, he pushed the door open, wincing at the horrendous creak it made. Of course, his dragon hearing made it a lot worse than it was, but still Ramsey didn’t want to go around making a heapload of noise. Turning back to his wife, he forced a grin. “Alrighty-who, here’s where it’s about ta get tough.”

“Not as tough as yer-“

“This way,” Ramsey hissed, and much to his surprise, his wife shut up and followed. To be honest, he hadn’t given her enough credit. He’d thought it’d take a miracle for Elspeth to agree to come along with him. But one mention of Silvereye, and he had Elspeth’s eyes glowing like firelight.

“Are ye sure it’s her, Ramsey?” She whispered as her husband pulled the door closed behind them. The room inside was beyond dark; Ramsey wondered when this part of the castle had last been used. But it was good news; at least there was no one around to hear them. Which would be very useful, considering Elspeth’s vocal disposition.

“I already told ye: I don’t know fer sure. It was a hunch.”

“Better be a good hunch, or ye’ll get what’s coming to ye.”

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll get what’s comin’ to me either way.”

Elspeth snorted, hoisting up her robe as she began to descend the steps to the dungeon. They followed a long, winding staircase. Every so often Elspeth would slip and Ramsey would catch her.

“Blasted steps,” Elspeth muttered, hoisting her robe even higher above her bulbous knees. “An’ blasted spectacles,” she commented, pushing the latter higher up on her bony nose.

“Shh,” Ramsey coaxed. “Almost there.”

By the time the two of them reached the dungeons, Elspeth had exhausted her repertoire of complaints twice over. And that was some feat, Ramsey thought to himself. A sudden clank ensued, making the two dragons jump.

Elspeth gasped. “What the bloody-“

“Shh,” the elderly man hissed for the millionth time. He glanced at his wife, shaking his head. Her eyes were glowing a soft red in the darkness, but upon seeing his warning glance, she blinked twice and the light went out.

Muffled footsteps echoed off the dank walls of the dungeons, and Ramsey gauged them to belong to three, if not four, people. A torchlight flickered from around the corner.

“We’ve got company, Elspeth. An’ I’m not sure if it’s the friendly kind.” Ramsey heard Elspeth take a gulp. He strained to hear what the humans were talking about, but the acoustics were terrible. “Let’s get closer.”

“No.” Elspeth grabbed hold of Ramsey’s sleeve. “They’re coming fer us.”

For once, Elspeth was right. The footsteps were indeed drawing nearer. Sinking back against the wall, Ramsey held his breath. The four humans – for Ramsey was certain now that there were four of them – seemed to be talking openly amongst themselves. Every so often, one of them would let out a chuckle. As the torchlight grew closer, Ramsey realized that a woman was now speaking. Her voice seemed reluctant, afraid. But she didn’t seem to be in any pain. Who were the other men? Guards? Ramsey glanced around the room. No, there wouldn’t be enough room to go full-dragon in this place.

“Hello!”

“Ramsey!” Elspeth hissed. “Shut it!”

“Too little, too late, Elspeth,” Ramsey chuckled. His wife huffed, puffing out her chest. She didn’t like being called small, not that it described her all that well. While short in stature, Elspeth more than made up for it in waistline.

“Who’s there? Show yerself!” A man’s voice called out, fear creeping through his voice.

“The name’s Ramsey. We’re here fer Silvereye. And ye’d best not be laying a finger on her!”

There was a short pause as the humans talked amongst themselves. One of them finally cleared his throat and spoke: “What business have ye with this woman? Ye ain’t one of the guards, I presume?”

Ramsey snorted. “Those bumbling idiots? O’course not! I’m a little too old ta be one of them, wouldn’t ye say?” He rounded the corner, stepping into the torchlight so that they could see him.

“Well, I could certainly say somethin’ of the like,” the man nodded. “Be ye friend or foe?”

“If ye’re here rescuin’ Silvereye as well, then ye must already know the answer.”

“Then I be glad to make yer acquaintance, Ramsey. I be Andreas, and these two be Gerald and Morgan.” The one called Gerald mumbled a greeting, while the smaller, rounder gentleman named Morgan flashed a quick smile.

“And who be that?” Gerald asked, gesturing at Elspeth.

“That’s me wife, Elspeth. An’ don’t let appearances deceive; she can be quite feisty when provoked.”

Before Elspeth could think of a retort, Andreas let out a chuckle. “We’d best get going, then.”

Ramsey and Elspeth pressed themselves against the wall to let the others through. In the flickering firelight, Ramsey could clearly see the silver eyes of the young woman as she passed, giving the two dragons a smile of gratitude. 

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Iereth cleared off an arm chair for Dorrie to sit in. A small whisper of a spell sent a spark into the fireplace and thankfully not the stack of books beside it. A disapproving sound came from Rachel, making Iereth blush. She along with nearly everyone he knew preferred him not use magic else all their hair and belongings turn the colours of spring.

He pulled on his hair, hoping the spell would wear off soon. If not, he'd turn... well it was too late to turn Will's hair purple. Will would never know, but he had already tried to do so. But regardless of his minor temper, Iereth still had several guests to care for.

And he would be no good host let alone a healer if he did not care for Dorrie properly.

"No need for you to do any hunting," he said. Iereth rubbed the back of his head and looked out the door. He then looked over at Will.

"Will!" he called. The sprightly thief jumped away from his desk.

"Yes?"

"You're going shopping with me. Now," he said. Iereth grabbed a silver cloak and pulled the hood tightly over his head. He trusted the women to be fine on their own, but he did not trust his shop in Will's hands.

"Shopping?" Will was pleased. "Going shopping" meant that he could pick some people's pockets while Iereth did whatever he had to. "Be back soon, Rachel!" he added cheerily as Iereth pulled him out the door, Iereth's hood tightly pulled over his head.

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They walked and reached the castle town in a few minutes. The marketplace was full of people, and Will was ecstatic about his chances of picking a pocket. But Reth kept a firm hand on his arm, dragging him towards the food stalls. He wanted to complain, but the amount of guards hanging around convinced him that, for the time being, it might be best to just shop and get out of there. Leaning towards Iereth, he muttered into his ear, "Keep that green head of yours under wraps, Reth. The king is on the lookout for potential sorcerers, and you fit the bill."

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River was watching the old woman cautiously, but Dorrie gave her a bright smile, and River blushed and looked away. Rachel caught her attention, and she glanced up. "What's your name, child?" Rachel asked quietly, sitting on the stool next to River's bed.

Using her borrowed book, River scribbled her name. "River Meer. And you?"

"Rachel Andric. I hope you don't hold Will's manners against him," she added. "He's not exactly the most polite of people. A bit of a rogue, actually."

"He seems nice."

"To his friends, he is," Rachel agreed. "To everyone else, he's an absolute nuisance." She sounded amused. 

The old woman was staring at River, making her feel uncomfortable. Trying to avoid Dorrie's eyes, River wrote, "I'm looking for something."

"Something?" Rachel repeated. "What are you looking for?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I was hoping that an apothecary could help me regain my memories, and everyone advised me to see Iereth Rivensteil."

"You'll be lucky if he doesn't turn your hair green," Rachel said dryly. "He means well, but you'd be better off asking for medical rather than magical attention."

"I don't mind green hair." River grinned, and Rachel laughed. But Dorrie was really starting to frighten River, and at last she turned to her. "Is something amiss? Can I help you with something?"

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Gerald was too busy arguing with Morgan to really notice the girl in the cell as Andreas released her. The mage was trying to convince Gerald to get his leg looked at, and Gerald was stoutly refusing. So it was when they met the two old people that Gerald paid them no heed and even less to the girl behind him, trailing back a little. "Dungeon be getting crowded," he noted to Andreas in a low tone. Then the old man's words sank in after they had passed them by.

"Did he say ... Silvereye?" Gerald repeated. Turning, he looked at the girl for the first time. Even in the dark corridor, the resemblance was obvious. "Blimey!" he squeaked, sure that the other two would tease him about his high-pitched voice later. "Elaine? Be it ye?"

Judging from the way her silver eyes widened, it was. "Gerald!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank God! I thought you were one of the Hindustanis!"

"Doesn't seem like you've been having much luck with the Albionites either," Morgan put in mildly.

"Morgan!" Elaine pulled away from Gerald and gave Morgan the same enthusiastic embrace. 

Andreas watched this with a bemused look, his eyebrows raised. 

Gerald wanted to explain--he really did--but that creepy feeling was back. "Oh, blast," he said. "Morgan...!"

Unfortunately, the mage was too distracted by Elaine's sudden appearance to hear Gerald until the corridor blackened. Elaine shrieked as something shoved her away from Morgan, slamming her into a wall. The air was thick with something, pushing Elaine against the floor and preventing her from rising. She could hear Gerald cursing, and Morgan yelling at Andreas--the man with the moustache. 

Then everything was quiet. The light returned to the corridor, and Elaine dared to raise her head. Across from her, Andreas stood, looking alarmed. There was no sign of Gerald or Morgan anywhere.

Before Elaine could speak, a voice entered her head--not addressing her, but Andreas. "Hindustani spy," the voice accused him. "Thank you for supplying us with power. And good luck finding your friends." The presence faded.

"Where have they gone?" Elaine cried, distressed.

"They be gone," Andreas said, looking like he could scarce believe it. Then he asked, "Who be ye?"

Elaine straightened her shoulders, staring him right in the eye. "My name is Elaine Silvereye Lightshield, Queen of Vordelle and the twin sister of Elsa Silvereye, the greatest thief who ever lived. Who is also Gerald's husband, which makes me Gerald's sister-in-law. And who are you, and how do we get Morgan and Gerald back?"

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Morgan felt woozy. Groaning, he tried to regain his feet, only to find his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied together. What in the world--Andreas, where are you? he wondered. 

Someone shoved him back down against the floor. "He's still too dazed to do anything with," the voice said. "You did a little too good a job on him. What about his friends?"

"Don't you worry. The one with the limp won't be finding himself in a particularly good situation, and their senior will have difficulty deciding who to save. You, little sorcerer, will succumb to that sweet, sweet darkness inside and help us fight Hindustan." The voices stopped, and Morgan was left alone.

He laid there for a while. Great. Just great. They wanted him to use his darkness to fight for them. Forcing himself to stand up--no easy feat; there was a lot to haul up without his hands--he stumbled over to the one barred window of what seemed to be a storehouse. Looking out over a cemetery, Morgan sighed...

Then jolted upright when he looked into the golden eyes of a young man.