Larien walked into the room and one by one the conversation at the various tables and groups quieted. All eyes turned to her and her entourage. Larien and Deamon exchanged questioning glances. Her curiosity, coupled with anxiety, heightened. She scanned the room, looking at the Angels’ faces trying to ascertain if she should be worried or happy or afraid. She even tried reading their thoughts but the confusion swirling around in her head made it hard to pinpoint a main topic.
All eyes swiveled from Larien’s group to a group of three men standing off to the side, next to the group of stalagmites by the back entrance to this area of the cavern. As the din in the room hushed, the three people stopped talking and looked up. Bone Face caught Deamon’s eye as Deamon pulled on his ear. Bone Face gave a negligible nod of understanding. There were two men of above average height whom Larien didn’t recognize. They looked tired and dirty; perhaps travelers. The third was much shorter and stocky with a braided beard hanging down across his chest; more like a dwarf scout she once knew. She continued walking over to where they were standing. As she got closer she realized that it was her dwarf friend, Baulde Gamal.
“Good morning, my friend. I didn’t recognize you at first. Welcome to Meneldur, such as it is at the moment.” Larien gestured at the cavern as she continued, “How have you been? We haven’t seen you or your family for quite some time. I do hope they are all well and prospering.”
“Ah, mornin’, Queen Larien. Good to see ya, too. We are fine, fine. Kids growing like weeds ‘n the missus always busy. Sorry to hear of yer losses. War with orcs is never good.”
“Thank you so much for your sympathies, Baulde. We are doing relatively well considering the length of time we have been at war.” Larien gave Deamon a small side glance. “Deamon assures me that we are in the last stages so I hope it won’t be long until we have all our people back together and can start on the enemy burials and rebuilding Meneldur. We cannot let the dead stay there or we will have infection and plague within our walls. You know how I am about the health of my Angels, livestock, and friends. I want to be assured that the bodies are not those of any of our loved ones. I do not look forward to the cleaning up of this horror. However, I sense that there is another reason for your visit. Perhaps it has to do with these two gentlemen.” Larien looked at the two strangers. “How may the Angels assist you today?”
The older gentleman of the three started to speak. Baulde stayed any comments from his companions with a show of his hand. “Let me. Well, I was on a scoutin’ party ov’r by the backside of the mountains looking fer game when I ran across a band of travelers. I reckon there were about 25 or so. It’s not oft that we git people comin’ ov’r the mountains like that. You know how hard that is. So, I knew they’d be needin’ a place ta rest. Thought to yud be needin’ help with yer battles. So, I brung them ov’r to ya instead of takin’ into a minin’ town.” He stopped for a breath and pointed to each man in turn. “Harry Hopplehead here ‘n Fawkes Garewal standin’ next ta him. Gents, this fine lady is Larien Arcamenel, da Angel’s Elf Queen.”
Larien smiled at the two men. Harry Hopplehead was the older of the two. He was a bit over average height for a man. His hair was salt and pepper and a bit receding above the temples. His face was kind-looking with a big infectious smile that lit his face and blue eyes. His face was flushed; either from the sun or the journey, she wasn’t sure. He had a gentle and caring spirit and Harry immediately put Larien at ease. While he spoke quietly, she sensed that should he raise his voice, all would listen to what he had to say. Larien could also tell that he enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest. Harry must have the honor and respect of his friends if they allowed him to represent them to the Angels. This was another indication that he was a trusted individual.
Fawkes Garewal had positioned himself to the left of Harry and a step back, resting against one of the stalagmites that were grouped in this area of the room. He looked weary. Larien studied Fawkes. He was the taller of the two visitors with dark hair covering his forehead but not overly long at the sides and back. She couldn’t tell in this light whether it was black or dark, dark brown. His soft brown eyes sat under arched dark brows. He sported a well-trimmed moustache over thin lips. He stood upright at her perusal and gave a fleeting smile which softened the planes of his face. He had a dimple in his right cheek. That smile changed his whole countenance and gave her the welcoming feeling she needed from him. Larien smiled to herself. An angel had kissed him before he was born.
Both men showed signs of their trek over the mountain. She was familiar with the little used path. Only local people knew of its existence. It was curious that Harry and Fawkes would also be aware of where that particular path ended. It was best left to the mountain goats and sheep and not humans; especially a large number such as their party held. Baulde must have brought the men to see her immediately. Their hands bore bloody scratches on the knuckles and their nails broken, probably from grasping the rocks for leverage as they maneuvered through the tight places. Their pants bore the signs of the trek; other than the mud and grass stains, Fawkes had a slight tear, probably from the brambles catching the threads. Sweat stains were still visible along the shirt collars and underarms. Yes, their journey had not been easy. It was no wonder that they looked tired and weary. Larien felt that there was a deeper reason for these men and their fellow travelers for ending up in Meneldur. Larien suspected she would soon find out. Not many would come visiting in time of war. Most visitors arrived on horses or in carts, not over the mountains.
After her quick perusal of her guests, Larien smiled, including both men when she said, “Thank you, Baulde. Welcome, gentlemen. Please come and partake of our hospitality. We have food and shelter for you to share. Many of our able-bodied warriors are still on the battlefields and our wounded are either in the infirmary or with their families here in the caves recuperating. There is food over there and tables in which to sit and eat. I will get someone to help find places for you to sleep. You look very weary from your travels and the path here over the mountains was not an easy one.”
Deamon felt that Larien was almost done speaking and interjected holding out his hand to the men, one at a time. “Welcome, Harry, and greetings to you too, Fawkes. I am Deamon, Meneldur’s Master of Whispers. This is our Elf Queen, Larien Arcamenel. To her right is one of my twin brothers, Bone Face, and behind her is the other, Sly.”
Harry firmly grasped Deamon’s hand with his calloused one and looked Deamon in the eye as he spoke quietly, “Hello, Deamon. I would like to thank you for welcoming us during your time of great stress and responsibility. We are very familiar with war and its ravages and have been touched by its horrors.” Harry glimpsed quickly in Fawkes direction before continuing, “On behalf of the remaining residents of Lambton, I thank you.”
Deamon looked each man in the eye as he was shaking their hands. He often could read a man by the way he was greeted; by both the hands and eyes. Deamon looked not only in the strength of the handshake but how the hand was extended to him. When someone extends his hand with the palm facing in a more upward position, whether the clasp was strong or weak, it translated to Deamon that they were willing to submit to the upper hand dominance - his. The firm handshake generally is given as an outward sign of confidence and minimal deceit. Since the firmness of ones greeting was not always reliable, Deamon liked to look the person in the eyes – to see any eye subtle movements. Direct eye contact when the stranger spoke with him generally was a sign of truthfulness. They’re eyes are not shifting from side to side trying to fabricate ideas rather than stating facts. If the eyes stayed attentive and focused with Deamon, it showed Deamon that they were interested in the conversation and not thinking of potential lies or subterfuge to counter his questions.
Both Harry and Fawkes greeted Deamon with an upward, firm handshake and did not shy from eye contact. Deamon was pleased that at this point, he did not think that these two strangers were a threat to Larien or the other Angels. As he was completing his greeting to Fawkes, he queried them, “And just why did your group make your journey to us? Surely Meneldur is not on your normal route from Lambton to anywhere else.”
Fawkes was first to reply. “You’re correct, Deamon. We made our way to you for a couple of reasons. We just lost most of our village to a marauding band of evil warriors. They claimed to be following the ways of Dimosthenis. That was very hard for us to believe but we were not in a position to argue. We were fighting for our very lives and the existence as we knew it.” Here he stopped to compose himself. “On the last day of our battle against Dimosthenis’s men, we saw a signal fire high up on the mountain top. Harry mentioned that he had never seen the fires lit in his life – ever. It was always at the ready as far as he knew but had never been utilized.”
Harry continued, “I belong to the oldest family in Lambton and can trace my heritage back several hundreds of years. I knew that we would not be able to stay with so few as we had left after the ravages of Dimosthenis and his men. The blazing signal fire was a sign from the gods that we should take shelter with the Angels of Meneldur. The new aggressors were not looking up into the mountains so they did not see it. We knew that we could not stay under the new lord’s rules and become slaves to their needs. Our hopes were that if we escaped, Dimosthenis’s men would just think they killed the whole village. So, we gathered those folks left alive and packed our very meager belongings. Under the dark cover of night, we left our lives behind and worked our way over the mountains. There were a couple of us that knew the route and felt it was the safest way to come. Meneldur, even across the mountains, was closer to us than going by land in the other direction to the nearest village. My father had always spoken highly of Meneldur. Our hope is that you will not only give us the shelter we need now, but that we would be able to become part of your………..”
Suddenly a buzz of activity coming from the doorway leading to the secret passage interrupted Harry Hopplehead’s words. Those sitting at the tables closest to the opening, stood. The surprise and shocked voices spread like a wild fire. When it reached Larien and her small group, the twins took a protective stance, shielding her from the view. She started forward until Deamon stayed her with his hand on her arm.
“Please wait, my Queen. Let me first see what is about.”
He hurriedly left with Sly to investigate the commotion leaving Bone Face to protect Larien should anything be amiss. Larien was torn. She felt there was more that Harry Hopplehead had to say. However, she also strained to see what was happening. By the look of shocked faces closest to the entryway, she felt it was not good.
She was preparing to give her excuses when she heard Deamon shout, “Larien, come to the infirmary now!”
Larien heard the urgency in Deamon’s voice so she started to run towards the triage area. She flung over her shoulder, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but it seems we have an emergency.” Her mind now needed to focus on what she might find.
As she advanced closer to that part of the area, she saw that someone was being carried by Finn and the new young man, Butch. The Angel warrior was not able to walk; he wasn’t even able to stand. Larien took a sharp intake of breath. NO!! It couldn’t be!! Surely, she must be seeing things!! Her brain didn’t want to accept what her eyes were showing her. She recognized the body that was being brought for her to mend. She saw the dark red stain along his right side, drops of blood still pooling on the blankets where he laid. Her eyes widened in her now white face and her heart skipped a beat.
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