Rebirth and Second Chances

The birds and animals we encountered were eerily similar to anything I might find on Earth. Birds came in varied shapes, sizes, and colors. Small mammals like squirrels and raccoons skittered and chirped angrily at as rode past them, disturbing their unending hunt for the perfect nut or berry. And larger game like deer was plentiful and ran in large herds.

It took Caraid pointing out the unusual for me to recognize that appearance was only skin deep. Birds were able to fly forward and in reverse. The small mammals were able to teleport from branch to branch. And the deer could fade into the background, becoming invisible to even the most discerning eye.

That isn't to say that everything we encountered was familiar.

Like the Honey Badger mounts we were riding, there were evident mutations that had occurred on Talahm that allowed the animals to make better use of the environment. Six legs were popular. But there were also animals that were mostly humanoid in form and function, walking upright and using paws that had been adapted to grasp and hold.

The most interesting adaption was the rudimentary magical abilities they employed. Teleporting was the simplest. There were also animals that could call lightning, wind, and fire. If the magic had an elemental component to it, they seemed to be able to adapt and embrace the underlying mechanics.

Despite our late start, we arrived in good time at the first camp spot. The building that greeted us was a jarring reminder of civilization. What we encountered when we arrived was not some small tent city, recently established with fire-pits and rustic toilets. The people that had ridden Skimmers to set up in advance had created a flourishing estate. A Manor house and stables had been erected. Part illusion mostly force shields. The Sidhe made the term roughing it obsolete.

Why leave home when you can carry it with you?

Fego had sent one of his assistants with us to help feed and care for the mounts, but I had grown fond of Meala, the honey badger, as we rode, and she seemed to have grown fond of me. She followed me around like an overgrown puppy after I dismounted, and it was only when I led her into the stables and removed her tack, that she allowed her grooming to commence. I decided to give a hand.

With these types of animals, brushing and currying was essential, they had a much thicker fur than horses, so tangles and snarls needed patience and care to remove. What was even more vital was the care and trimming of their claws. Chips and splits had to be meticulously filed. And healing spells were used to regrow and repair any serious damage. Splits that were allowed to deepen and widen could lame an animal.

It was hard to believe their claws required that much care because they were as hard and sharp as any steel dagger. The enchantment that allowed them to travel farther and faster must have contributed to and enhanced wear and tear. The resulting degradation had to be managed diligently.

I didn't mind. It was soothing, spending time with her, brushing her hair, learning her habits. The stable hands seemed impressed as well as shocked that I bothered. And I often caught them grinning at each other whenever I made a mistake or fumbled a brush. Meala was finally content to settle for the night once I prepared her dinner. A slurry of meat, oats, and honey, it looked revolting, but she rumbled in delight when I dumped the concoction into her feeding trough and filled her water.

Giving her one last firm pat, I headed out to find the entrance to my 'tent' and see if this monstrosity provided a shower. I'd barely closed the stable door behind me when I heard an argument. Voices raised and the sound of flesh striking flesh. I hadn't thought we'd been tracked or followed by anyone after we left Fief Kel, but it sounded like someone had discovered us.

Rushing towards the noise, I stopped abruptly when I discovered Leian and a staff member in a serious tussle. It hadn't devolved to hair pulling or wrestling around on the ground, but a clear handprint could be seen on the face of the young woman I'd hired to assist Jennie.

Alys Rice was a Puca, a species believed to be the bringer of luck, both good and bad. Her history was a strange one. She seemed to be especially adroit with providing good luck for those she served, while sadly, generating only bad luck for herself.

Jennie swore she was a magician in the kitchen and eagerly provided a reference concerning her abilities when she applied to serve as part of my staff. I'd had little interaction with her and hadn't been able to form a real impression either good or bad since she was hired.

I wasn't sure exactly what kind of background search we'd done either. She was recommended by Jennie, so the vetting process might not have been as thorough as it should have been. But I'd seen no inclination for violence or intolerance from her so I was very surprised to see her bristling with anger and brandishing a kitchen cleaver at Leian.

Jennie had managed to separate them before anyone else was able to reach them. Scolding them furiously she demanded to know what was going on. Since she seemed to have matters well in hand, I choose to observe. I didn't have to get involved in every discussion or solve every problem. Sometimes the smart choice was to watch and see how things played out.

"Well?" Jennie demanded. "Is one of you going to explain what this was all about?"

"It was nothing," Leian replied, "a simple misunderstanding."

"Seems like more than a misunderstanding judging by the handprint on Alys' face."

"A momentary loss of control," Leian promised, "it won't happen again."

"Alys?"

"What would you expect from one of Kel's spawn? The best thing that Duke A'Daoine could do is seize those lands and instill new blood into the Fief. They've proven they can't be trusted," Alys spat in fury.

"I warned you about slandering my family," Leian said angrily, "keep spouting your venom and we'll see how you talk once I remove your tongue."

"Slander?" Alys sneered.

"It isn't slandering if it's true. Thom is a bully and a braggart. Your father was a lazy drug addict. And you? Who knows, but the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it Squire Leian?" she mocked.

"Enough!" Jennie demanded.

"Alys get inside. We have meal preparation to see too."

"Squire Leian, forgive her. Her mother was a victim of Thom's games. I'll keep her busy tonight and send her on ahead to Duke A'Daoine's city in the morning."

I began to understand why Caraid adored Jennie so much. She was resolute when action was required and seemed to understand the motivations and history that came from listening to and deciphering gossip. Her ability to lend an ear allowed her to learn and commiserate with anyone that visited her kitchen. But her ability to empathize with a person didn't make her soft or a push-over. In her domain, she ruled with a firm hand. Compassion did not equate to weakness.

The conversation did give me pause. What games was Alys' mother involved in? What was Thom playing at that had traumatized the daughter so badly?

I would ask around and see if I could find out. But first, I needed to have a discussion with Leian. She was here only because of my suffrage. Perhaps Alys had crossed the line and said words that were vicious and hurtful. But she was one of mine. A part of my staff and no one else had the right to strike one of my people.