A Tale of Crown and Country

Castin

Clouds covered the sky like a thick blanket, threatening rain. Castin pushed his horse harder than he should have. They raced over grasslands in the morning and through forests for the rest of the day. He'd left without waking Obira and Yvid. He'd snatched a piece of bread from the table for lunch and had set out for home. Before the horse's hooves had clattered along the cobblestone of Ilane's streets, now they thundered over uneven, packed earth.

Branches tore at Castin's arms, pebbles flew into his face, and small animals threatened to scare the spindly horse and throw its owner to the ground. Castin knew if that happened he was a goner. He'd either lose the horse to the wild woods or hurt himself badly enough to not be able to move. Either option was terrible, but Castin pushed his luck, pressing the horse on while keeping a close eye on the surrounding forest ground.

He stopped once to water the horse; knowing he wouldn't make it too much longer, Castin prayed Quaelsi was close. He'd never come from this direction, from inside the Inglewoods Forest, but he figured he'd know when they got there. From the map he'd glanced at before leaving there was a large clearing below the mountain, just south of Quaelsi.

Castin came thundering into town well after dark. He barely slowed as he passed the first row of homes. He thundered to a stop in front of the Deiarn house, dismounting before the mare had come to a full stop. He didn't bother tying the horse up, either counting on the fact that it was more tired than he was, or he was too distracted to think about such trivial things. Or both.

Castin knocked harder than he'd expected. He wanted to make sure Mr. and Mrs. Deiarn heard him. But he didn't have to worry, the door was answered at the fifth knock.

Mrs. Deiarn opened the door surprised to see him. A hint of worry crossed her face when she looked into the darkness to find he was alone. "Castin–" she couldn't formulate a question or a greeting.

"Mrs. Deiarn, I really need to come in."

She obliged and he passed her into the small room.

"Castin, you should know we have–" Again she cut her own words off as they turned into the main living area.

He had to blink to make sure he was seeing this properly. He could easily have been mistaken, but something told him things were about to be explained–or get a lot more complicated. Sitting on two sturdy wooden chairs were the boy from the Ilane market and the girl who looked like Reila. The one who he'd had a strange feeling about.

They were talking to Mr. Deiarn, politely engrossed in a story about the few times the man had been to Aldira.

"I know wer're not an inn," Mrs. Deiarn said quietly to Castin. "But the girl... she looks just like Reila. You see it too, right?"

All he could do was silently nod. He wanted answers, wanted to know how these two could have ended up here of all places, why he had a weird feeling this was related to Reila's kidnapping. On top of everything, in the wild befuddlement of his mind, he hadn't yet told the Deiarns their daughter was gone. And it was all his fault.

The pair turned when Mr. Deiarn acknowledged that his wife had returned, and with Castin no less. He expressed his surprise at his return, and immediately introduced the two strangers in the room.

"Castin," Reila's father said quickly, "this is Arlan and Lea. They're from Aldira."

"I know."

The Deiarns were puzzled, but the boy called Arlan nodded subtly to Castin.

"I've seen them before. In Ilane."

"You did? Well, what a coincidence!"

Castin couldn't agree. This was too strange, too exact, to be a coincidence. No, someone needed to clear the air. Between the five of them somebody had to know what was going on.