Elven Legacy

Chapter 17

Jaden

Zemisha had not been found by the militia. Not that anyone was deeply shocked by that.

At dawn, Jaden and the others met at the eastern stables and readied their horses in silence. The morning proved to be foggy, damp and chilly, making Jaden glad that, at least, they were traveling south.

"Is that the scarf Noah stole from you that one time, to hide his black mark?" Kitera asked, shooting him a sideways glance as she finished buckling her saddle bag.

"It has sentimental value," Jaden replied teasingly. He wore calf-high riding boots, his black-and-gold military uniform, fingerless gloves, and yes, even the scarf. It was cold outside, in any case.

Kitera smiled but abstained from comment, resuming her inspection of the saddle and girth on her tall gray stallion, Bolt. Beside her stood Dharkan with the beautiful black destrier Kitera had selected for him. The horse's name was Strider. He certainly was no convenient demon horse, but Dharkan didn't seem to have any complaints.

As it were, Dharkan was quiet, almost solemn, as he prepared with the others. Truthfully, Jaden had been surprised to see Dharkan show up as Kitera's choice, but he'd held his peace. After all, Dharkan had proven himself ever the keen swordsman in the past.

And he appeared a great deal cleaner and soberer than the last time Jaden had seen him, which was reassuring.

He looks so much younger without his beard, it's uncanny.

Jaden could only hope that Kitera and Dharkan would remain . . . professional, throughout their quest.

Next to these two, standing beside the stable's wall in the dewy grass, were Tessa and Moira, completing the team. Quieter than silence itself, each minding their own business, tending to their respective mounts.

Tessa would ride a beige mare named Dawn, and Moira's horse was the aptly named Chestnut. Jaden, as ever, would stick with Silver. So long as the sturdy white horse stayed strong and healthy, Jaden would never fancy riding another. They'd been to war together, they'd traveled together, and they were about to do it again.

Presently Jaden fed Silver an apple, and gently stroked him between the ears, where he had a long triangle of light-gray fur.

They were also bringing a pack pony called Fiddle. The stable boy seemed almost done checking the straps that secured Jaden's lute to her back, along with a few other bags and equipment.

Few people were present to see them off, but that was because they were keeping the whole thing as discreet as possible. Priest Velior stood on the cobbled path that led to the inner ward's gates, with Uncle Fredrick beside him, Matty in his arms. She was adorable, all wrapped up in warm blankets.

Soon, Moira abandoned Chestnut's side, so she could go and say her goodbyes. Jaden watched fondly, a hand on Silver's neck, as Moira kissed her daughter's tiny hand, then forehead. She said something, her voice too soft for Jaden to hear.

Until eventually, after Moira had briefly hugged both Velior and Fredrick, she returned to her mount. Her pale blue eyes sparkled with tears, not unlike the dew-laced grass beneath her boots, though she swiftly tried to hide her face from Jaden.

Moira climbed in the saddle, before awkwardly replacing the bow and quiver that were strapped to her back. It made Jaden smile; she still wasn't accustomed to the cumbersome weapon, of course. And yet, she'd looked quite proud as Jaden installed and adjusted the straps for her earlier. 'I feel like a true archer,' she'd told him, 'like in the stories and the plays.'