Ch. 12: The Road to Hate is Paved With Love (pt. 3)

Previously in The Tale of Jarthen, Jarthen learned why his race and presence offends Glothnafar so greatly, and McNab and Bertronius have a heart-to-heart where he (inadvertantly) advises the boy to take a rest from his search for Ractor.

PS - Enjoy the hand-drawn illustrations and links to the Jarthenpedia!
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Reinvigorated by his discussion with McNab, Bertronius decided to make his way down to the Blushing Loaf, knowing that his daft comrades would easily divert him further from his unsettling reflections. However, as he entered the warm, smoky environs of the public house, he did not see the distinctive figures of Nelhoepher and Lem anywhere in the establishment. "Well, I think that I've earned an ale in any case," he said to himself, and headed to the bar.

"Ah, hello there Bert! What can I get fer yeh?" Arna, who was tending the bar at the moment, asked warmly.

"Oh, I think your smile will suffice for the moment," Bertronius replied with a coy wink at the older, but still quite comely woman. Bertronius had instinctively known when he first saw Arna Clinders that she was a woman with a particularly weakness for flattery, and his intuitions had proven quite useful when he wanted to secure food and ale at the establishment.

"Yer a fine'un, yeh are, Bert," she said giving his hair an affectionate tousle even as she blushed slightly at the charming young man. "How 'bout a tankard o' ale?"

"That would be lovely. You haven't seen Lem and Nel around, have you?" he asked as Arna busied herself getting his drink.

"Aye, they were in here earlier, but I t’ink they left a while back," she replied. After a moment's reflection, she added, "I t’ink they said somet’in' 'bout follwin' up on a lead or some other such nonsense."

Bertronius chatted idly with Arna while she poured drinks, adding a healthy dose of flirtatious banter to the generally pleasant conversation for some time. After two large, frothy mugs of ale, a new plan to enhance the time that he was taking off of Ractor's trail occurred to Bertronius. "Say, Arna, there wouldn't be anyway you could...” he trailed off, doing his best to look abashed. She gave him a questioning look, so he shook his head slightly, saying “No, nevermind, I shouldn't ask," he said to the barmaid.

"Aww, Bert, wha' is it, lad? I'm sure I wouldna mind, whate'er it is," she replied in a genuinely solicitous tone.

"Well, it's just I could really use some elvish pipeherb – the last couple of weeks have been hard on my nerves - and I don't really have that much money, and all," he said, putting on a disarmingly sweet smile as he did so.

"Ne’er yeh fear, me lad, ne’er yeh fear," Arna replied with an understanding smile. "O’ course," she added as she leaned across the bar in a way that highlighted her still-attractive figure to hand Bertronius a small leather sack of pipeherb, "’Tis yers fer a kiss on ta cheek!" Bertronius, a little flattered himself, blushed quite genuinely and obliged.

*****

“Naki, ye mind walkin’ wit’ me this mornin’?” Jellihondor asked as Rethnaki pulled on his rucksack.

“Oh, no, o’ course not, Jelli. Change o’ company’d probably do us both good, eh?” replied Rethnaki. The pair made small talk about the weather and various elvish gambling tricks as they watched the others file past.

Jellihondor looked at Rethnaki with a weary and slightly guilty expression that roused the younger elf’s curiousity. “So….erm….Naki, do ye happen ta ‘member tha’ nigh’ in ta woods after we made it out o’ Norsa where ye accosted me wit’ some very good questions? An’ I kept tellin’ ye I couldn' tell ye not’in’?”

Rethnaki nodded. “Aye, I remember tha’. Are ye askin’ ‘cause ye can say somet’in’ now?”

“Aye. Ye know why we’re goin’ ta Susselfen?”

Rethnaki looked at his superior suspiciously, as if it was a trick question. “Ta spy on ta Imperial Army an’ get information about our own army’s movements, I thought.”

“Well, yes. As valuable as tha’ is, though, there’s another purpose ta this journey. One tha’ the rebels’ council thought should be kept secret from those not involved unless absolutely necessary.” Jellihondor paused, gathering his thoughts. “Now, I know ye ken I be a seer, as I’ve saved yer life more than once. Do ye know tha’ Glothnafar is one too?” Rethnaki nodded, his face betraying a complex mix of betrayal and concern. “So, o’er ta last couple o’ years, Glothie an’ I ha’e been ha’in’ complementary visions - ta way we see t’ings is so different tha’ it took us awhile ta realize tha’ they were tellin’ ta same story – ‘bout ta final victory o’ ta Rebels o’er ta Queen’s forces.”

Rethnaki stopped, livid: exactly the reaction Jellihondor had been hoping to avoid. “Ye’ve….ye’ve seen us winnin’ this great bloody war an’ ye ne’er told us?! Ha’e ye seen yer troops lately, Jelli? Ye don' t’ink our morale’s been a wee bit low since we been in ta damned Dark Lands?”

Jellihondor drew himself up proudly and fixed Rethnaki with a cold look. “Naki! Ye really t’ink ye ha’e ta right ta question me? Ye, who are no commander and no seer, t’ink ye know better?”

Jellihondor’s cool tone sliced right through Rethnaki. Looking at his commander – regal, composed under the worst of circumstances, and always, always aware of the situation – Rethnaki felt embarrassed about his outburst. “Yer righ’, sir. I…sometimes ferget me place. Go on,” he said, abashed.

“Righ’, no harm done, don' beat yerself up ‘bout it. So, ta reason I couldn' discuss ta prophecy wit’ ye - or anyone else fer tha’ matter - was because we didn' fully unnerstan’ it. It’s…complex, ta say ta least, an’ we’ve needed a good deal o’ help from seers all o’er ta damn place ta unravel it this far. Now, Glothnafar t’inks he’s got ta last bit, but he says he’s made some sort o’ mistake and wants ta confer wit’ ta Oracle before he tells me wha’ tha’ last bit is. Tha’s why we’re goin’ on this wild goose chase.”

Rethnaki pondered this for awhile, finally understanding why Jellihondor and Glothnafar had been so insular of late and why Jellihondor had chosen such a foolhardy-seeming route. “Makes sense. But, why are ye tellin’ me this now? Wha’ does all this seein’ business ha’e ta do wit’ me?”

Jellihondor gave the young officer a confused look. “Ye really don’ know, Naki?” Rethnaki shook his head, perplexed. “Oh, lad. I’m tellin’ ye ‘cause yer their leader now,” Jellihondor said, gesturing to the small band ahead of them winding through the Dark Lands.

“Jelli, no, tha’s not true at all! Yer their leader – always ha’e been, always will!”

“Aye, in name. But yer ta one wha’ got them t’rough ta battle wit’ ta nybbas, yer ta one caring fer ta injured and makin’ sure they get enough ta eat and sleep as best they can under conditions such as these, and yer ta one they go ta when they ha’e problems or don' know wha’ ta do,” Jellihondor said softly.

“I – I’m sorry! I know I been o’ersteppin’ me bounds and bein’ too forward wit’ ‘em. ‘Tis just tha’ ye and Glothnafar ne’er seem ta be ‘round when shite comes up -- ”

Jellihondor cut him off with a wave of his hand. Smiling, and with a tone full of pride, he said, “Rethnaki, there’s truly no need ta apologize. ‘Tis righ’ tha’ yer there leader, ‘tis ta best I could ha’e hoped fer. Were I 300 years younger, I’d be idolizin’ ye righ’ along wit’ ta rest o’ ‘em.” Rethnaki blushed deeply in response. “As their leader, yer goin’ ta ha’e ta head up ta venture inta Susselfen proper, so ye may as well start t’inkin’ now ‘bout how ta best infiltrate ta Imperial Army. I ha’e a few contacts, I’ll give ye ta names later, an' I know ye ha'e a few o' yer own. Ye’ll also ha’e ta cover for Glothie an’ me when we go see ta Oracle, since it’s too soon ta let ta others know ‘bout ta prophecy. Now ye know jus’ ‘bout all I know meself.”

Rethnaki looked at Jellihondor sharply. “Almost? Tell me ta rest o’ it – can' trust me ta make ta righ’ decisions as their leader wit’out knowin’ e’eryt’in’, can ye?”

Jellihondor grinned. “My, ye waste no time at all gettin’ past yer humility, do ye? Alrigh’, here’s wha’ we’ve been able ta glean from ta prophecy as far as I know: someone wit’ us here is destined ta be a great leader o’ ta Rebel Forces – one tha’ will one day defeat ta Witch-Queen in her own land.”

Rethnaki gaped. “Someone here? In ta Dark Lands? Who?”

“Tha’s wha’ we’re hopin’ ta find out from ta Oracle, Naki. Now, let’s catch up wit’ ta rest o’ ‘em.” Rethnaki, mind reeling, nodded and picked up his pace to close the gap between him and the rest of his battalion.

*****

After another few ales and further discussion with Arna, Bertronius decided to retire to one of the more secluded booths in the bar. As the evening had progressed, the Blushing Loaf had filled with a steady progression of new customers. They were a diverse clientele, drawn from a range of different social classes, races, ages and occupations. Many of the customers came in alone, often to take advantage of the company that could be reliably acquired at the public house for a handsome fee¹. However, there were also groups that congregated together to drink and smoke with one another in the establishment's congenial atmosphere.

Although Bertronius had gained a great deal of experience in the art and science of drinking since joining the Imperial Army, he was half in the bag by sunset when a jovial, slightly-inebriated red elf entered the Blushing Loaf and made his way (in a weaving, unsteady gait) to the bar. His mind, influenced not a little by the multiple pints of ale sloshing around in his stomach and comparatively little food, the young human couldn't help watching the elf with that kind of close attention characteristic of the intoxicated.

The cheerful elf was talking loudly, in a slightly slurred voice, to Arna and the other customers drinking at the bar. He was apparently telling some amusing anecdote as his audience frequently broke into loud brays of boisterous guffaws as he gesticulated wildy and spoke animatedly. Once the red elf had received a large tankard of ale, he turned away from the bar's congregants and blearily scanned the rest of the tavern's main room. After muttering to himself and making several sweeps of the Blushing Loaf with his eyes, the elf focused on Bertronius sitting idly in his back booth, and started to make his resolute, if unsteady, way towards the auburn headed lad.

Bertronius felt largely unperturbed by the strange elf's approach -- after all, he thought to himself, he had had to contend with far rougher characters in less hospitable environs already during his time in Susselfen. "Hello," he ventured in a voice somewhat garbled by liquor, "what can I do for you?"

The red elf smiled wryly at Bertronius and bowed towards the youth before greeting him in a friendly tone. "Greetin's, lad! I couldn' help noticin' tha' ye ha’e a kind face, and I though' ta meself, 'Eralus, tha' looks like ta sort o' lad tha' I wouldn' mind gettin' ta know,' which is wha' brough' me o'er ta ye. I hope tha' I don' seem too forward..."

"No, no!" Bertronius added generously, his naturally reserved character made more amiable by drink and cheerful surroundings. "I welcome the company! My friends -- who I usually can never be rid of -- nowhere to be found, so I could use the…company."

"Well, I'm glad ta hear it, me name's Eralus, though I think I said tha' already. What's yers, me good sir?"

Bertronius smiled, and reached across the table to shake the elf’s hand, very nearly knocking over an empty glass of ale. "A pleasure to meet you, Eralus. My name's Bert."

Eralus shook Bertronius’ hand with gusto and smiled warmly. "Nice ta meet ye -- can I buy ye a drink, Bert?"

a drunken Bertronius converses with an even drunker Eralus

*****
Jarthen rolled over in his sleep, trying to get comfortable and failing yet again. “There must be a rock or something underneath me,” he thought to himself. Disgruntled, knowing that it was unlikely that he could return to the blissful state of sleep again, Jarthen exited his tent and wandered to the still-smoldering campfire.

“Oh, hello. Vhat are yair doing up?” Leila’s melodious voice asked behind him. Jarthen was thankful that the darkness hid the goosbumps her voice caused.

“I, uh, couldn’t sleep. You?” he responded.

“Same. This last leg of the journey is always the hardest. Vair getting close to the maintains now, so the graind gets all rocky and uneven.” She placed a kettle of water on the embers. “Vant some tea?”

“Oh, sure. That would be great,” Jarthen responded, a little distracted.

Leila looked at him, her sharp eyes noting his preoccupied expression and the traces of sadness in his voice. She place on tiny, delicate hand on his forearm, and with in a concerned voice asked, “Why can’t yair sleep? I mean, vat’s really bothering yair? Yair’ve been out ov sorts ver days and I’m getting vorried about yair.”

Jarthen’s heart started beating very quickly. She was worried about him! She noticed things about him! He felt himself flush deeply. “I…umm…well…I guess I just wish sometimes that I could go back home, you know? Something really amazing will happen – like that battle with those ape-things, or meeting you, for example - ” and here it was young Leila’s turn to blush, “and the first thing I want to do is tell my best friend, Bertronius about it. I just feel so bad about abandoning him like that - I never even got to say goodbye to him. I mean, I had no choice in the matter, but I wish there was some way to contact him without betraying the rebels’ position. For all he knows, I could be dead, you know?”

Leila nodded and handed him some tea. “I do know. Did yair know my mather is a great leader ov the Inalan people?”

“She is?” Jarthen asked, quite surprised.

“Yes, she oversees all ov the Inalan trade routes going thrairgh the City of Mages. She vanted me to grow up with air customs and vays, vich is vy I travel with my vather. But I miss her so much sometimes. All this traveling, never seeing her – it makes me veel sometimes as iv I have no real home.”

Jarthen nodded and sipped his tea. “For a while at least,” he said softly, not quite looking in Leila’s direction, “We have each other to tell things to. I mean if you’d like.”

Leila sighed and rested her head on Jarthen’s shoulder, an act that sent shivers down his spine. “I’d like that very much, Jarthen.”

a tender moment in the Dark Lands

Sitting together like that, huddling against the chilly night air in a familiar and intimate way, Jarthen felt totally completely in sync with Leila. He felt as if he could tell her anything at all and wanted to protect her from any harm that may come her way. He had previously attributed his sense of ease with her to their shared race and age – but now he realized that what he had with her was more than just shared racial outlooks. Jarthen finally admitted to himself what he had suspected for some time: he was very much in love with the fierce and delicate Inalan girl sitting next to him. Very much in love and with no clue at all what he should do about it. “If only I could talk to Bert,” he thought. “He’s so much better at things like this than I am. He would know what to do.”

THE END

OF CHAPTER 12

PLEASE CONTINUE ON TO CHAPTER 13