Friend In NeedA Chapter by SpeedyHobbit Armstrong “I cannot say for certain. Heironeus is your god, is he not?” Kiran nodded. “Well, then, I say keep your eyes open for signs that this dream may be more than that.” Kiran woke covered in sweat, hoping to Heironeous that his eerie dream had been nothing more than just that- a dream. If it had been, then they were all in very deep trouble.It seemed different, somehow. Every ounce of his intuition screamed it meant something more. But what?
A clap of thunder sounded off in the distance. Normally, Kiran reveled in such weather, particularly when it occurred at such strange times of the year as January. Heironeous and thunder went together. Thunder meant his god was making his presence in the world known via the weather. However, coupled with the nightmare, it bore ill portents. Another clap sounded. Was Heironeus trying to communicate something to him?
After tossing and turning another hour, during which the freak thunderstorm disappeared as quickly as it had come, Kiran finally got up to begin the day. After leaving orders to his servants to contact him if there were any difficulties at his home or they got word of any business related to the Northchester City Watch and sending one to City Watch Headquarters to inform his deputy that he’d be conducting matters there for the day, Kiran gave them permission to serve themselves breakfast. “As for the food you’ve made me, see to it that you find someone who needs it more than you or I,” the paladin concluded before going out the door into the cold winter air, tankard of coffee in hand.
He arrived at the Duke’s and was escorted by a guard to his family’s sitting room. The Duke was in an almost palpable state of anxiety that by leagues eclipsed the state he’d been in the previous evening. There was no sign of the refugees in the dining hall, which indicated that their breakfast had been brought up to the attic for them. “Do you need me to assist you with anything, my lord?” Kiran queried anxiously.
Duke Ivan shook his head. “No, thank you Kiran,” he said, lips pursed. The paladin watched him intently. It was obvious he could not have slept much the previous night, or else the Duke’s sleep had been as troubled as his own. He was not as well put-together as usual and the lines in his face seemed slightly deeper than usual. “I have just been having rather a busy night.”
“With what, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The Duke wrung his hands, lips pursing. “Well,” he began, “one of my brother’s messengers arrived early this morning. He came bearing a message from Queen Arlena that she intends to come up with my nephew and nieces for my birthday.” He stiffened, falling silent with another flash of what might have been disquiet.
Kiran noticed something peculiar about what the Duke said- or, more accurately, what he left unsaid. “Your Grace… did Her Majesty mention anything about the king?” he queried cautiously. There was no mistaking it; there was pronounced pain in his lord’s eyes. The Duke fiddled at the gold brooch fastening his blue cloak as though adjusting it. “She said nothing,” he answered tersely. He swept his hand through the air very fast, a gesture indicating he did not wish to discuss the subject further. Kiran bowed his head. “Hector intends to come down from Fort Cyrus.
“What of Lady Helena?” Kiran asked in regards to the second child of the Duke. She was in her late twenties, had finished her baccalaureate and masterate degrees, and been wedded to a noble in southern Cancalia nearly two years before. The late marriage had caused many tongues to wag as there were people with doubts as though whether she would be able to bear her first child at such a late age.
To the paladin’s surprise, Duke Ivan’s face broke into a smile for the first time. “Speak of this to nobody, I do not wish this to be common knowledge yet, but my daughter is with child.”
Kiran grinned back. “My Lord, that’s wonderful! When?”
“She’s missed two months of her courses, so my guess is she will have it sometime between August and October. Needless to say, her husband does not wish her to travel- and I quite agree! I shall have to make time to visit her and leave Hector ruling Northchester in my stead if at all possible.”
Kiran nodded. “I agree with you both. Traveling in her condition would not be wise.” Not for the first time, he felt very fortunate to have a lord who cared about the welfare of his inferiors as well as his equals and superiors. Duke Ivan was very organized and efficient, yet he still placed safety above procedure at times where adhering to procedure could potentially endanger another. From what he knew of the king and queen, too, they were fair and would value the well-being of their niece and her unborn child. “When shall you be going, so I can make preparations at Headquarters accordingly?”
The Duke stroked his flaxen beard. Creases deepened in his broad forehead. “I shall inform you of the time when I myself know. It may need to wait up to a few weeks past my birthday though, given everything going on- especially in light of recent events.” He gestured towards a mahogany settee with garnet-colored cushions of velvet and golden tassels. Kiran accepted the invitation to sit. “Speaking of recent events, news has reached me that there was a delay of several days in the construction of the refugee barracks.”
“What for?” the paladin asked. He’d completely forgotten these in light of Folco and Lindo’s disappearance, not to mention the nightmare he hoped was nothing more than that
“Weather. They’ve encountered freezing rain the past few days.”
“No thunder?”
At that query, Duke Ivan cocked an eyebrow. “It’s winter,” he said succinctly, “there wouldn’t be thunder.”
“What what about last night?” Kiran dared to ask.
The Duke gave him a very strange look. “What do you mean? " "I heard a thunderstorm last night." His employer raised an eyebrow. "I didn't. You're the first to mention one." Kiran began to explain what he remembered. Even now, many details stood out vividly in his mind. Normally, he either didn't remember or key details faded, leaving a very general idea. Duke Benoit fixed Kiran with a lengthy look of contemplation. Finally, he said “I am unsure of what to make of this. Your nightmare… a thunderstorm only you seem to have heard.” His cerulean eyes went to the east-facing window where the sky was iridescent with dawn.
The paladin felt a slow twitch of frustration but kept his voice as respectful as could be. “Do you suppose it was just a dream, then?”
Duke Ivan looked back to his charge. “I cannot say for certain. Heironeus is your god, is he not? The god of thunder?” Kiran nodded. “Well, then, I'd say the thunder was either entirely your imagination, the most likely scenario... or there's a reason only you heard it. Perhaps you should talk to someone less secular than I. ” ~*~*~
Kiran spent the next several hours discussing the logistics of the royal family’s impending visit to Northchester and ascertaining the role his people would need to play in ensuring both smooth travel and the highest level of protection for the Duke’s exalted relatives. After lunch, the Duke excused him for the afternoon with instructions to take some time for himself. Kiran went first to the local clinic to seek out his friend Nont’im only to be told the cleric was off for the afternoon. Astonished at the stroke of luck in their simultaneously having an afternoon to themselves, Kiran made his way towards Hoggins Tavern, Nont’im’s favorite haunt on Tuesdays because of their vastly reduced mead and wine prices. Perhaps Nont'im might be more helpful?
Sure enough, Nont’im was already there. Judging by the lascivious expression with which he was regarding a buxom barmaid and the slight lack of focus in both his blue eye and his green, his friend had already downed a few. He did not react to Kiran’s entrance. Shaking his head with an exasperated smile and the thought typical Nont’im, he sidled towards the edge of the room, moved out of the cleric’s line of vision and snuck up behind him just as the curly-haired half-elf, half-halfling slammed back an ale. “Enjoying yourself, my friend?" Kiran said drily.
Nont’im let out a squeak. “Kiran! I did not expect to see you off this afternoon. Here for a drink, are you?”
“Just one,” the man answered. As the buxom barmaid came to take his order- Nont’im looked as though his birthday had come early and whispered something undoubtedly flirtatious to the woman. A foreboding brawny man with bulging biceps and three equally-tough, equally-threatening friends watched with a livid expression. His stomach dropped. Oblivious to the unfriendly eyes, Nont’im continued whispering sweet nothings to the woman. “Nont’im…”
Nont’im tossed him an exasperated look. “Kiran,” he mimicked, “what is it?”
Before the paladin could reply, the beefy fellow the woman seized Kiran's shoulder. “That’s my woman your friend is talking to. Let him know if he does not want a good sound thrashing…”
Kiran sighed, not liking that he was letting the customer go. “We were just leaving, actually,” he said firmly. He looked to the barmaid. "Never mind the drink... here's a couple of coppers for your troubles. Good day."
“Another few minutes!” Nont’im protested.
“Come on, Kiran repeated, pulling on his arm. “There’s another place I’ve been wanting to try, anyhow…” There was no such place, but he'd come up with something. The important thing was protecting his friend from a "good sound thrashing" by the sort of people who virtually made a living off tavern brawls.
As they proceeded to the new tavern, the pair passed a group of hobbit lads. He and Nont’im exchanged waves with the children and young adolescents, who were evidently in the middle of taking turns daring each other to take a direct swig of a bottle of pepper they’d somehow acquired. Wincing at the very thought, Kiran marveled at the gumption of youth.
“You know,” Nont’im said to Kiran as he watched the youths, managing to look both disgusted and impressed at once, “we have good food around here… they ought to lower venue rent though if they want anyone filling them.”
Kiran gave Nont’im a blank look, wondering what the healer was talking about. “A few of my patients were saying so anyhow, they were saying they may need to relocate or try to buy land to build on if rent keeps going up. Say, look at the weather!” he suddenly shouted in astonishment, pointing to the north with mouth hanging open and both his blue eye and his green eyes expanding to the size of saucers. Kiran looked. The rest of the sky was bright and sunny, belying the frigid temperature that couldn’t be more different from yesterday’s mild weather. The sky to the north, however, had a cluster of dark clouds that were occasionally illuminated by a bright flash. The clouds were moving towards Northchester.
The two friends stared at each other- then moved into an embrace and slapping one another on the back. Breaking apart, Kiran and Nont’im grinned knowingly at one another.
“Bright Light Inn?” Nont’im said.
“Bright Light Inn,” Kiran confirmed. That had been their haunt anytime there’d been sun and thunder at the same time since he was fifteen.
Nont’im beamed. “I’d say we should bring some of our newest friends along, but our inn may be too vulgar for them perhaps?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Particularly if Prince Folco were among them.”
Kiran stiffened. “Nont’im…” he said, his voice far less jovial, “there’s something I must tell you…” As they followed the winding dirt road leading toward the Bright Light Inn, he related both the tale of Folco and Lindo’s disappearance and his dream to Nont’im. The cleric’s face gradually shifted from mystified to vexed to outright anxious.
His friend’s eyes, both the azure and the emerald, sparkled less than usual.When Nont’im finally spoke, having remained taciturn throughout the paladin’s story, he dismally commented “so they’ve fallen into the hands of their enemies.”
“So the dream says,” Kiran said bracingly. They’d reached a somewhat dilapidated edifice with large enough cracks in the side for passers-by to peer inside. Despite its squalid appearance, however, its offerings were very good, particularly the drinks. Nont’im often called it the gem in a rock’s clothing. “Come on. Let us honor our tradition of years, and then we shall decide how we might best ascertain whether it indeed was just a dream.”
© 2015 SpeedyHobbit ArmstrongAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews  Last Updated on February 13, 2015 Tags: friend, best, friendship, dream, nightmare, missing person, royalty, refugee, prince, thunderstorm, sun, bright light, inn, weather, strange, oddd, tavern, city Author
SpeedyHobbit ArmstrongLong Island, NYAboutMy name is Cher Armstrong, also known as Speedy Hobbit. I'm a USATF athlete in racewalking for the Raleigh Walkers club team. I just graduated from Queens College in Queens borough in New York Ci.. more..Writing
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