A Dreaded Necessity

    A lot could happen in a week. If even that much time passed. Kiran had seen the displaced hobbits safely outside Drémeadow's borders. They'd found a large enough cave for them to cram into. It was uncomfortably crowded for almost two hundred- they were literally touching another on all sides when sleeping- but at least they would be safe. Body heat would keep them warm. Kiran was not worried they'd accidentally betray their location. Hobbits had a reputation of surpassing humans when it came to hiding by far. He could believe it. They had a remarkable level of patience for staying still for long periods of time.

    Now Kiran had to address another problem. His superiors. After all, he'd been sent as an emissary to secure a trade for the medicine Cancalia needed to rectify the illness sweeping through Northchester. Though he had technically achieved his mission, there was that slight problem of the crime for which he'd been falsely accused. Duke Ivan might be a capable ruler and benevolent employer that held the best interests of his soldiers, guards, officials and servants at heart, but that did not mean he'd necessarily believe Kiran was innocent. He hadn't been there. He hadn't seen what happened. The plans entailed Kiran thanking Drémeadow's king for his hospitality and riding south on the first.

    He would've been back by now. Most likely, he'd have gotten there sometime between the third and the fifth of January depending on travel conditions. The Duke would know something was wrong. Even now, there could be people searching for him. A letter could be on its way to Drémeadow. Or would it? Would Drémeadow have written to the Duke? It could be safely assumed their king was extremely busy. Between coping with the loss of his queen, planning a funeral worthy of her royal status and  trying to find the man accused of the assassination, His Majesty would scarcely have a moment to eat. However... If Kiran were a king and believed a specific individual was responsible for his wife's death, he would not rest until they were caught.  He'd make sure all things were considered. Hrothgar Foxtrot would be no different.

    Had the Duke heard yet?  Would Hrothgar Foxtrot have written to Kiran's lord to tell him what happened? Grief might delay Drémeadow's king from sending a message to Cancalia informing the Duke of Northchester that his emissary was accused of murder. Not just any murder, but the assassination of their queen. No, because it was Drémeadow's queen, it was probable he'd sent a message as soon as possible. It had only been a few days, but a messenger on horseback was much faster than almost two hundred refugees on foot, many of whom were elderly or children. Those refugees had shorter legs than humans, meaning they moved slower. Though he and the six hobbits he brought with him traveled at a grueling pace after taking leave of the others, it was not enough to bypass a horsed messenger.

    Another idea occurred to him. Would Hrothgar Foxtrot send a messenger? What if he thought Cancalia had engineered his wife's death? What if the same madness guiding him to accuse Kiran made him think he'd done it on his lord's orders? None of the living Benoits would ever do something so underhanded, but who was to say Drémeadow's king would believe it? After all, he'd ignored all evidence contradicting the assumption Kiran had slipped poison into Queen Arabella's wine. He'd even ignored everything legend and lore said about paladins. It would have been a simple matter of making Kiran prove he still had his abilities, be it calling his "otherworldly" horse, healing a wound or bringing him into a prison housing dangerous criminals and having him identify which had committed the most evil crimes. And such a thing was not unheard of, a royal, or in the Duke of Northchester's case a blood relative of the royal family, sending a mercenary to eliminate a rival monarch. Since the founding of the Intracontinental Trade Alliance, which set down international law, over half a century ago, such things were far less common but that did not mean it wouldn't happen.

    What if the Duke believed the accusations? Kiran did not think the Duke would throw him in prison or worse, hand him over to his brother King Irwin without allowing him to defend himself, but just the idea of being punished by his superior for a crime he didn't commit was heartwrenching. And even if the Duke believed him, his doing so would arouse Drémeadow's ire.

    Kiran's blood ran cold. The murder of a foreign monarch was grounds for war. He did not want Cancalia at war on his account if it could be helped.

    "Kiran?" A female voice interrupted his thoughts. It was Thespina Wooding. "How much further do we have? I know we keep asking, but..."

    Kiran sighed. She wasn't exaggerating. They'd been complaining of cold, hunger, weariness and the lack of bathing since the morning after Queen Arabella's death.  "It's understandable. It's not easy traveling in winter, especially without proper provisions."

    "We haven't had a proper meal since the feast," muttered Rina, Thespina's older sister. "And even that wasn't, considering we never exactly got to the meal part.

    "I am sorry," Kiran said, closing his eyes briefly. He could not allow his exasperation to show. This was an unpleasant experience for them all. It would not do to make things worse by losing his temper in front of the refugees. "Just another day, two if we cannot keep up this pace, and you'll be getting more than enough to eat from my lord. He's a good man, he will make sure all that is fixed after we explain everything."

    "What if he doesn't believe us?" said Shemaro Hallock, fidgeting with the string holding his cloak on. "Doesn't a king's word count more than a commoner's?"

    Lindo Rivers stepped forward, unbuttoning one of his trouser pockets. "You're forgetting," he said, "you've got me with you, and I have this." He extricated a gold ring bearing the Foxtrot emblem. "Prince Folco sent me with this for a reason. At the very least, he can't do anything horrible to us without first speaking with Folco."
   
    "I can assure you all," said  Kiran quietly, "that even the worst criminals are treated humanely in his dungeons. You wouldn't be cold or hungry in His Grace's prisons, and it is my hope none of us see the inside of those. No, be it in prison or in my lord's feast hall, you will have food aplenty."

    He was going to add assurances that Duke Ivan was fair, but a hacking cough interrupted that.  Percillo Wooding, the oldest of three siblings accompanying Kiran, was clutching his chest with one hand and pressing a handkerchief to his mouth with the other. The paladin frowned. This was not good. If one of those accompanying him was already showing signs of illness, a hobbit in the prime of life, then surely some back at the cave in which they were hiding were as well. Children and the elderly would not be able to withstand illness as well as Percillo, who was about his age, twenty-nine.

    "Shouldn't we rest?" Starla Jiffy said, motioning to her coughing companion. "Perce seems to need it..."

    "I'll be fine," said a redfaced Percillo, voice hoarse. "If it's just a day... better we all get someplace warm than delay out here..."

    "We can't afford to stop," said Lindo. The other hobbits looked at him. Though Lindo, at eighteen, was the youngest by a full four years after Thespina Wooding, it was no secret he was a close friend of the youngest Foxtrot.  "Fol- Prince Folco, is hoping for help as soon as possible. There are dozens of others needing food, shelter, baths and medicine.Not just us.  At the very least, we need to know if we need to tell His Highness to look elsewhere. They'll all worry if it takes us too long  to return." 

    Kiran halted. "We can. For only a few minutes, anyhow, but we can. I want to have a look at Percillo.

    "Aren't you a warrior or something?" asked Rina. "No offense  meant, sir, but do you even know anything about healing?"

    The paladin let out a long breath. "Constable of Northchester, so I suppose I am in a sense, though I've never fought any wars except against crime and evil. However, my good friend Nont'im is a healer, he did teach me a few basic things."

    "Pity your good friend Nont'im isn't here," muttered Rina, "he'd be useful to my brother."

    Ignoring the middle Wooding's comment, Kiran removed his cloak and laid it on the ground. Once Percillo was on top of it, Kiran placed two fingers across the tiny wrist and bent foward to listen to his breathing. His chest sounded very congested. He could not expect the fellow to keep traveling at a grueling pace. Not unless he did something about the illness. He only had the energy to cure two people in a week, but fortunately he hadn't used either healing spell yet. Indubitably, he'd need them soon if Percillo Wooling was any indicator. Percillo... there was no way he'd last long at the current pace. Even now, the coughing fit resumed.  Yet they needed to maintain the pace.

    There was nothing for it. Closing his eyes and resting both hands on Percillo's chest, Kiran turned his mind toward his god Heironeus in silent prayer. My god, Lord Heironeus, king of thunder and valor, Your Majesty, my king above all earthly kings, please grant me this request, please help us all get to Duke Ivan in one piece, please take this affliction away from this hobbit. Let him heal so he can carry out his prince's wishes. Let him heal so we can get to my lord. Let him heal so we with your blessing can ensure those other refugees get the help they need and deserve.Let him heal so they have less time to suffer. Please, my god, remove this affliction.

    As Kiran prayed this, he focused as hard as possible on the ailment plaguing the hobbit disappearing. His coughs subsiding. His chest clearing. The fever heating up his face cooling. As he concentrated all his energy on this visualization, the paladin could feel it decreasing. Warmth began to build in his hands, reaching a crescendo before dissipating entirely. Percillo coughed once, twice, and then dropped his head back against the ground, heavily inhaling and exhaling for several seconds before calming entirely. His breaths were no longer raspy. His face had resumed its normal hue.

    "Can I get up yet?" asked Percillo. His voice, too, was normal.

    Kiran just smiled. "How are you feeling?"

    "Fine, I'm fine, but weren't you and Lindo just saying we were in a hurry?"

    "Correct, we were." Kiran extended a hand, helping the hobbit to his feet. The others   stared at him. He smiled around at them all, though their faces ranged from puzzled to almost frightened. "That coughing shouldn't be bothering you anymore."

    Lindo was the first of the others to speak. "Was that one of the paladin powers you were talking about?"

    "When?" said Kiran.

    "Back at the feast. Or maybe I'm mixing you with Prince Folco or someone else... but anyhow, it was said you could have easily proved your innocence by showing you still have your powers."

    Kiran closed his eyes, looking pained. "I try to not think about that feast," he murmured. "But you bring up a good point. It will help in convincing my lord, anyway, I just need to make sure I don't waste  my powers... any time I do something, it drains some of my energy, and it takes time to recover my... for lack of a better word, spells. If I cure another ailment today, I won't be able to cure anyone else for a week. Fixing wounds comes easier than drawing out disease, but even that takes so much energy that at a certain point, depending how many people or how bad, I need a good night's sleep and prayer to replace it."

    Lindo nodded slowly. "Does this mean we'll actually be stopping for a full night's sleep instead of our usual five or six hours?"  Kiran said nothing. "But then, it's just one more night, isn't it? We can stick it out, can't we?" He looked around at the other hobbits. "For the others? And Prince Folco?" Nobody said a word. "Not to mention,  the sooner we get there the sooner we get hot food and warm baths. We must smell worse than orcs at this point!"

    "Naw, not orcs," Shemaro Hallock chimed in. "Perhaps worse than dwarves, or at least worse than humans- no offense, Kiran, I've heard you bathe often enough and you don't smell bad- but it'd take a year for us to sell worse than orcs." Collective laughter broke the winter air. The corners of Kiran's mouth turned up. Despite the comment at the expense of his race from the member of one very fussy about cleanliness, he was glad they'd seen reason to laugh. There'd been precious little as of late.

    Kiran looked at the sky. The sun was sinking low on the western horizon. It would be dusk in less than an hour. "I think we should try to find some food while we still have some," he said. "Then we can walk for another two or three hours, get a little bit of sleep, and then we should be at Duke Ivan's by supper tomorrow."

   
   

Author's Note

This chapter was added after many others were written. Please alert me to any inconsistencies, plot holes, contradictions and the like between this chapter and the others of the first 5. I'll eventually be going through them myself to get rid of excess repetition and contradictions plus shift around what's revealed when, but feedback is nonetheless very much appreciated

Reviews

[Mila]

Nice continuation! It's been a while since I've read this and I see that I have reviewed a few chapters a while back. I am a bit confused, but that may be mainly in part because I haven't looked at this in a while. I still enjoyed this, so well done! :D

-Mila

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks lovely! [= I wonder if I should steal a leaf from Jim's book and have a summary after every ten books?

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

*chapters GAH maybe I should go to sleep!

[Skai Rain]

No big issues stand out to me. Still slightly confused, but I am putting things together. Sadly, people are convicted of crimes they did not commit even today. Back then, it was rampant. I hope to see Kiran get out of this one soon without too much trouble... but if that were the case, this would be a very short and simply book. I am excited to read more!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Yeah, definitely a sad thing- poor Kiran. Please feel free to mark specific confusing spots so I can see if I need to add any clarity my end =]

[Craig2591]

Excellent! This chapter ties up a lot of loose ends. Answers some questions that I had. For example: I vaguely knew that Kiran had healing abilities, but this chapter clarified it a bit.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Glad to know that helped! [=

[jjwilbourne]

this was really cool.
It was a little weird reading it out of order, so It's hard to tell at this point if there are any plot holes or inconsistencies.
I do however have some notes here: https://diigo.com/06b53m
great work.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks so much, hopefully getting to these notes after my friends leave tonight!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Just read one of your note- damn you word processor! Apparently its italics don't transfer to WC- unless it's WC's fault the italics won't show. Either way, grrr. Fixing that bit now

[NoelHC]

Another good chapter ma'am, enjoyed it. I like the healing power concept, is that a "real" hobbit thing? Or something you developed? It has been many years since I read LoftR.
Good flow, good dialog, I find I want description of the surroundings in this world, but that is just me, I am usually accused of too much description. : )

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

The healing powers is something inspired by D&D for the most part, as is the term paladin to describe Kiran, though I am taking care to stray far, far away from D&D in other senses.

As for description, yes, definitely something I know I can be lacking in for some! It might bne because of my own reading preferences, where I get quickly bored with description. I just need to find where a little bit is necessary.

[Jennie Baron]

No inconsistencies, etc., stand out to me. In fact, this is a very solidly written chapter and maybe even better than the others. I found myself simply enjoying it, going with the flow of the narrative and caught up in the plight of the hobbits and Kiran.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Awww thanks so much! I just messed around with the chapter "The Beauty of a Normal Life" because one major inconsistency popped up given my plans for the chapter containing the conversation with the group and the refugees being granted asylum- and something in need of explanation occurred to me for that chapter too (the presence of the character Nont'im.) Perhaps Nont'im will have his own chapter! =D

[Jennie Baron]

You're very welcome and it was my pleasure to read. The great part of posting writing online is being able to bounce ideas off others and "mess around" with the words. Happy writing!