Caell’ian

  Caell’ian smiled to himself as he saw the young bard cast yet another yearning glance at Alean’or’s stiff back. Another hopeless suitor. Still, Taliesin was surprisingly good-looking for a human. He was as tall as Sandor and well-shaped, with blue eyes and golden curls. The oval face was youthful and unblemished, with a straight nose and full lips. It was difficult for Caell’ian to guess the age of a human, as their lives were pitifully short and fleeting, but this one couldn’t have been in the world for very long. The bard started humming a song under his breath. It sounded familiar.

  ‘Is that one of your songs?’ Caell’ian asked, even though he knew it couldn’t be.

  Taliesin sighed. ‘The melody came to me in a dream last night, but I cannot remember the words. It is a shame. It was a thing of beauty.’

  ‘Do songs often come to you in a dream?’

  ‘Not usually, no. But we spent many days near a sacred place in the woods, and it was as if I could hear the melodies from the Otherworld in my dreams there.’

  ‘What is the Otherworld?’

  Taliesin seemed surprised by the question but still readily explained, ‘It is a place beyond this world. There are many realms in the Otherworld, some inhabited by gods, some by the Fae and some by the dead.’

  Caell’ian smiled to himself as the bard continued to explain. He had to admit that there were tiny traces of truth in what he said about the Fae kingdoms. Maybe something was seeping through the Veil. It had felt thinner, and he had been shocked to see that his brother hadn’t exaggerated. The barrier between the worlds had widened to double the size since he’d last been there. His mother had told him it used to be only two paces wide when she had first seen it. From two paces to two miles in five hundred years. What if one day it spread so far that it cut the kingdom in half? How would that even work? Like the realms of Taliesin’s imaginary Otherworld? If the world of the humans and the world of the Fae existed in parallel worlds, perhaps they were more to which the Fae just hadn’t found a gate yet?

  But whether they existed or not, Taliesin had a true talent to spin an enchanting tale and a very pleasant voice. Everyone else had stopped talking and was listening to him as well. Even Alean’or had slowed down and stayed in earshot. She was probably still sore about the episode with the horse. One of the greatest knights of the Fae realm was thrown off by a stocky, short-legged riding animal. It would take her a while to live that one down, he thought with amusement. She had always been too proud and too serious for her own good. Maybe she would loosen up a bit in this world where she wasn’t under the constant surveillance of her superiors, who had great hopes of her becoming the Queen’s personal paladin one day.

  To his surprise, Alean’or started to hum ‘The Ballad of the Dawn’.

  Taliesin ran to her side eagerly. ‘That is the song I was dreaming of, lady. Do you know it?’

  ‘I may have heard it somewhere. I am not sure,’ she lied, glancing down at him.

  ‘Do you remember any of the verses?’ the young man asked hopefully.

  Caell’ian grinned and fell back. Of course Alean’or knew it. It was one of his mother’s songs that was often performed at the court because it was Queen Mab’s favourite.

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  ‘Are you seeing what I am seeing?’ Sandor asked, elbowing him in the ribs.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Caell’ian asked innocently.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean. Considering how Alean’or usually deals with suitors, I expected this one to find himself at the pointy end of her sword by now.’

  ‘Let the girl have some fun. This human is cute. A bit like a whisp waving its tails,’ Halliena remarked with a smile and got off her horse. ‘I think it is tired. They are nice little beasts, but have little endurance.’

  The cart driven by the man called Finn caught up with them. Caell’ian took it as a good sign that the first humans they encountered were witches. He was told that they tended to be less scared of strangers than regular humans.

  ‘You said you are going to mediate a dispute. Is it inappropriate if I ask what it is about?’ Tormandor asked the oldest witch who sat in the back of the cart with the female druid.

  The man glanced at Finn, whose face darkened when he explained, ‘The king’s lousy son tried to force my sister to lie with him. She defended herself and stuck a knife in…uh…’ he began, then blushed as he glanced at Brin and Halliena.

  ‘She almost unmanned him,’ Gwydre supplied.

  Caell’ian had never heard the expression, but he could guess what it meant.

  ‘What is there to mediate? She was right to do so,’ Halliena objected.

  Brin looked at her with some amusement. ‘You must come from an interesting place if you think it is so obvious. What did you say your kingdom across the sea is called?’

  ‘We call it Sol. I don’t know if you have another name for it.’

  ‘You speak our language, yet I’ve never heard of a tribe of the Sol, and you have never heard of the Otherworld. It is quite strange,’ the druid mused.

  ‘Yes, I assume so. But it is even stranger to me that this woman stands accused of wrongdoing. Or did I misunderstand?’ Halliena insisted.

  ‘You are obviously from a noble family, lady. My sister is not. The only reason the king has not demanded her execution is that she is a witch. An Earth Elemental. She takes care that our fields stay fruitful, and she can feel the iron ore underground to tell the miners where to dig. King Brannor has many sons who can continue his line, even without Prince Mordred, but few witches to help fill his coffers with wealth. So he lets her live, but demands a galanas that will ruin our village,’ Finn explained bitterly.

  ‘What is a galanas?’

  ‘It is a matter of law. When you kill or physically damage a person, you have to make compensation to the victim or his family. In this case, he demands a dozen sheep and two carts of purified iron.’

  ‘He doesn’t sound like a victim to me,’ Halliena snorted.

  Caell’ian, however, noticed another problem. He had no clear idea of how much iron there was in this world. If two whole carts of the substance were to go somewhere else, then there would be less for him to buy.

  ‘And you are called upon to be the judges because you are witches?’ Tormandor asked with interest.

  ‘We are called upon because we are druids. That is not the same. Brin is not a witch, but she is a druid. Finn’s sister is a witch, but not a druid. I happen to be both. I am what people call a Soul Gazer. Taliesin is a Seeker.’

  ‘You can look into people’s souls?’ Tormandor asked with interest.

  Gwydre smiled. ‘Not exactly. But I can find out if they are telling the truth or not.’

  ‘And what does Taliesin seek?’

  ‘Taliesin seeks the perfect song. But otherwise, the term Seeker means he is a witch who can locate sources of magic. Yet none of us knows magic like yours.’

  ‘I am not sure what you mean by that,’ Caell’ian evaded. He had not expected that humans would be able to see their magic at all.

  ‘We see colours when other witches use their energies. Taliesin says you are magic users, too, but even he can only feel your energies, not see them.’

  ‘Maybe the difference is a matter of where one comes from,’ Tormandor suggested.

  That wasn’t even a lie, Caell’ian thought and then glanced irritably at Sandor, who’d elbowed him in the ribs again. His friend jerked his head forward with a grin as if to say, ‘Look at that.’

  Alean’or had dismounted and was walking next to Taliesin, who was leading the horse gently by its mane. It seemed like there was no end to today’s miracles. Caell’ian smiled as his second in command started to sing ‘The Ballad of the Dawn’ in her clear, high voice.