Chapter 13: Seeds of Betrayal (pt. 1)

Previously in The Tale of Jarthen, Bertronius met a drunken elf with a particularly loose tongue, Jarthen and Leila grew even closer, and Rethnaki realized his role among the rebels.
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Leila was right – the small weary band of soldiers reached the foothills of the Klevarcht Mountains in a matter of days. They continued up sheer, jagged slopes until the path disappeared completely, leaving them facing a wide, arced tunnel cut through the mountain. The tunnel curved itself around an impassable gorge, which ran through its center.

“Ah, so this mus’ be ta famed Semadran gate, then,” Jellihondor said in a quiet, respectful sort of way.

“’Tisn’ much o’ a gate, eh?” said Vathorem. “I mean, there’s no door or anyt’in’.”

“No, the crevasse itself acts as the gate, as it were,” said Moshel. “It’s ingenious, actually – there’s a unique and highly intricate clockwork system that creates a remarkably stable bridge across the gap, there. The bridge is pressure-sensitive, so it collapses again as your party moves along it, preventing you from being followed across.” Jarthen watched as Moshel’s normally reserved and unexpressive demeanor fell away while the tinker elf talked about one of the greatest technical and magickal marvels of his race, and found the transformation most endearing. “Do you know the story behind it, Jellihondor?” Moshel asked.

“Not well, no, but I’d love ta hear it, friend,” Jellihondor replied warmly, also charmed by the silver elf’s enthusiasm.

“Well, historians say that back before we lived among the felintarks, we tinkers lived here in the Klevarcht Mountains – that’s where our coloring is supposed to come from – but we were driven out of our home by dwarves. In a bid to keep our attackers from following us into the desert, we created this gate. The only way to gain access to the bridge is to have a key specially made for it – or lacking that,” he said with a sly smile as he cracked his knuckles, “a particularly dexterous Semadra with you.”

“Wait – what’a a Semadra?” Jarthen asked.

“Oh, my apologies Jarthen, I have a tendency to get ahead of myself. Semadra is the name of my particular kind of elf, and the language we use among ourselves. You know, like the blue elves of the forest are the Vinkenti and the red elves are the Athenorkos,” supplied Moshel.

“Righ’, so, ye’ve opened this gate before, then, Moshel?” asked Rethnaki.

“No, since there’s usually just the three of us – Leila and Nagoa don’t often come this close to the mountains – we typically circumvent it and use a path into Susselfen we know about, but it’s treacherous and too narrow to accommodate us all safely. But I don’t anticipate a problem – I’m rather good with clockworks, even for a tinker,” Moshel said grinning ear to ear, clearly excited to use his extraordinary skills. He walked over and inspected a metallic panel on the arch’s side, his eyes intently examining the delicately crafted mechanics. “Hmmm…” he said, frowning. “This will take a little more time than I thought: it looks like the lock has gotten a bit rusted from disuse. Better make yourselves comfortable while I work on it.”

the strange clockwork lock

*****
Eralus returned with two mugs brimming with ale -- though the elf's initial beverage was still only half drunk -- after taking a circuitous route to the bar. "Here ye are, Bert," he said, pushing frothy beer sloppily across the counter to the young spy. After taking a few large sips from his mug, Eralus began speaking to Bertronius rather abruptly, as if he was picking up a conversation that they had very recently been having. "So, o’ course ‘tis been hard o' late, workin', as I'm sure ye've experienced yerself livin' this town...'tis hard ou' there 'tis! An’ wha' do ye do, yerself, Bert? I'm sorry ta talk so much, but tha's ta curse o' me race, isn' it?" he asked in an uncertain, tipsy voice.

Bertronius looked at the elf and took a sip of his ale before responding. Even though he was enjoying himself immensely, and more than a little bit drunk, he remembered to check himself before casually outing himself as a spy. Fortunately, he was well practiced in lying about his profession, in marked distinction to his erstwhile colleagues, Lem and Nelhoepher. "I'm looking for work myself," he said easily, consciously de-emphasizing the aspects of his speech that marked him as a member of the Elothninian elite.

This mention of their shared state of unemployment elicited vigorous nods and commiserating looks from the drunken elf. "Aye, ‘tis been mighty hard keepin' meself optimistic," he punctuated this word with his ale, sending it sloshing onto the table with each syllable, "Fertunately, I've been doin' me utmost ta raise me spirits...I t’ink I owe it ta myself, really," he said casting a heroic look into the distance, which was only slightly undermined by his unfocused eyes.

Bertronius laughed sympathetically, and patted Eralus on the shoulder good-naturedly. "I don't know how many evenings I've spent in this very tavern, just passing the time," he lied convincingly.

"Say, lad…will ye join me in a smoke?" Eralus asked, his eyes suddenly gleaming a bit more clearly. Without waiting for his response, the elf pulled one of the long traditional elvish pipes and proceeded to pack it with the greenish plant matter. Bert considered, momentarily, offering some of the pipeweed Arna had given him earlier that night, but thought that doing so my cause Eralus to ask him questions Bertronius wasn’t sure he should answer in his current state and refrained.

After lighting it and inhaling from it deeply, Eralus ceremoniously passed the lit pipe to Bertronius who accepted it, and puffed some of the aromatic smoke into his lungs as well. He sucked on the pipe gingerly, since he had never smoked anything at all before, and tried to inhale as little as possible. After a round or two of the pipe, Bertronius felt incredibly relaxed, and he struggled to maintain some sliver of his trained attention, but found himself rather fascinated by the way the ale sloshed about in his mug. Eralus, for his part, seemed completely at ease, and spoke to his new companion in a confidential manner. "Actually, Bert my boy, I do ha'e reason ta celebrate. Ye see, me dear uncle, who I ha’en' seen fer quite a few years will be comin' ta town in ta near future."

"Is that so?" Bertronius asked softly, he was trying his best not to lose what remaining grasp on his sobriety he still possessed.

"Aye, lad, 'tis!" Eralus lowered his voice further, and motioned for Bertronius to bend his ear closer to his lips so that he might speak even more softly. "I probably shouldn' tell ye this as 'tis top secret, an' I don' know ye tha' well, but, ye know, I t’ink I can trust ye, Bert. I like ta look o' yer face. Ye see, he's comin' wit’ a group o' rebel soldiers, wha' ha'e snuck righ' 'round ta Queen's forces all secret like. I ain' seen him fer a long, long time, so I'm jus' mighty excited 'bout catchin’ up wit’ him!"

Bertronius, despite his inebriated state, felt his whole body tense at the mention of a secret group of rebel soldiers. Fortunately, Eralus was too oblivious too notice the extent of his new friend's reaction. "Really?" Bertronius asked as nonchalantly as possible. "When will they get here?"

"Well, I reckon' they're makin' camp ta ta east o' Susselfen, probably in ta next couple o' days, but I can' be sure -- not in ta most punctual o' professions he's in, eh?" the red elf replied as openly as ever.

Bertronius nodded. "Why are they coming to Susselfen, anyway? I would’ve thought they’d be busy on the front, being in the army and all," Bertronius asked cospiratorially.

Eralus, however, had apparently spotted another acquaintance and was not listening to Bertronius any longer. He quickly knocking down the rest of his ale, the red elf embraced Bertronius clumsily and promised to see him around town in the future, then exited the bar with a group of drunken red elves.

*****
As Moshel worked feverishly, and with obvious delight, Sellior decided that now was as good a time as any to approach Rethnaki about the delicate subject of his relationship with Elcrona. Sellior pulled Rethnaki aside to a spot removed from the other rebels so that they could speak privately. “Naki, mind if I’m a wee bit forward wit’ ye? About somet’in’ personal?” Sellior ventured once they were alone.

Rethnaki could think of no clear reason for Sellior to approach him in this manner, which left him feeling concerned and perplexed. “’Course not. Ye know I love ye like me own brother, Selli. What’s ta matter?”

“’Tis about Elcrona, see. Ye know, she’s a fine lass – smart as a whip, fine sense o’ humor, quite a looker – but she can be a bit…odd sometimes,” Sellior said diplomatically. He knew Elcrona would skin him alive if she discovered that he was talking to Rethnaki thusly, but he felt that the rift between his two closest friends – fueled mainly by Elcrona’s unresolved feelings toward the handsome elf -- warranted dramatic action. Sellior was moved to act out of a firm conviction that Rethnaki had no idea that Elcrona still harbored such strong feeling towards him.

“C’mon, Sellior, just spit it out! Stop dancin’ ‘round an’ just say wha’e’er ‘tis yer hintin’ at!” Rethnaki said impatiently, annoyance beginning to creep into his voice.

Sellior sighed. “Alrigh’, but ye ne’er heard it from me, righ’? She’d kill me if she knew I’d told anyone this about her, but she’d torture me mercilessly beforehand if she knew I’d told you. Agreed?” Sellior stuck out his hand to Rethnaki. The pair shook firmly and Sellior continued, looking somewhat more relieved. “Ta t’ing about Ellie is…she’s got strange ideas about love. She gets a migh’ possessive, one could say, wantin’ ta ha’e a monogamous relationship -- ”

“Monogamous?! A red elf wantin’ ta be monogamous?” Rethanki cried incredulously.

“Shh! Keep it down! Strange, though, isn’ it? Like a centaur smokin’ pipeweed. Anyway, she’s had these strange ideas about marriage and love and wha’ since we were wee elflin’s, but they got worse once we joined up wit’ ta rebels. She keeps sayin’ she can’ afford ta get involved wit’ a soldier, ‘cause then she’d be seen as available and e’eryone would be fere’er pesterin’ her fer a good romp now an’ again. Tha’s wha’ she t’inks; makes no sense ta.”

Rethnaki furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of Elcrona’s singularly unorthodox notions. “Aye, very odd. Certainly, though, she saw how well regarded Citrene wa -- ”

Sellior interrupted Rethnaki with a tired groan. “Citrene! Tha’s ta wors’ part o’ it, Naki! When she found out ye an’ Citrene ha’e been growin’ more affectionate o’ late, Ellie lost wha’ few marbles she had left! She was all ‘tha’ Rethnaki, he’s such a cad! Movin’ on from one girl ta ta next like we were not’in’ ta him. An Citrene! Let her be ta hussy o’ ta battalion if she wants, see if I care.’”

Rethnaki laughed at Sellior’s dead-on impression of Elcrona, wiping a tear from his eye before responding. “Well, I’m sorry ta hear Citrene an’ I caused her so much irritation, but I don’ see wha’ tha’ has ta do wit’ anyt’in’ since we left ta City o’ Mages.”

Sellior sighed and looked at Rethnaki plaintively. “Naki, I know yer jes’ doin’ wha’ e’ery sensible one o’ our kind would in yer situation, but can ye really not see how she’s been actin’?”

Slowly, realization dawned on Rethnaki. “Oooooh, she still fancies me. Oh, why tha’ makes loads o’ sense! I’d been wonderin’ why she’d been avoidin’ me, but I jus’ thought she’d gotten o’er her crush or whate’er an’ saw me fer the lyin’, flatterin’ rascal I am,” he said grinning.

Sellior nodded. “An’ she’s spent ta last few months flirtin’ her little heart out with Safir – who is so clearly not interested and keeps hintin’ at it (it’s actually quite embarassin’ fer all involved ta watch, thank ye very much!) – ta try ta make ye jealous. Ye know, as if ye held strange ideas like hers.”

“Huh. Wonders ne’er cease,” Rethnaki said, a cocky half smile on his face, feeling more carefree and buoyant than he had in some time.

Sellior pushed Rethnaki’s shoulder jokingly. “Yeah, yeah. Ye know well enough tha’ most o’ ta Rebel Army is stuck on ye, so stop lookin’ all surprised. But, anyway, can ye talk to her, straighten t’ings out a bit? ‘Twould make life a lot easier on all o’ us.”

“Sure, Selli, I’ll talk to her. An’ I ne’er heard it from ye, neither,” said Rethnaki with a wink.

Just then, the two elves heard Moshel let out a cry of triumph. “HA! I’ve got it! Just one more….” A loud clank rang out, and after a fleeting pause, the rebels heard whirring and clicking noises echoing in the deep cavern ahead. They watched as pieces of metal swung in from the side of the canyon and the top of the arch, fitting together like oversized puzzle pieces. Intricately designed handrails appeared, attaching themselves to the metal pathway.

An exuberant Moshel threw his arms above his head in wonder at the elaborate, beautiful, perfectly constructed clockwork bridge. “This is the gate of the Semadran. This is something that no one but my people could ever even conceive of doing. Now cross it, but remember you can’t turn back once you’ve started over, so make sure you’ve got everything you need.”

*****
Nelhoepher and Lem finally arrived after Eralus had bid Bertronius farewell and departed the Blushing Loaf to prepare for his uncle’s arrival. For his part, Bertronius was still going over the details of his conversation with the too-loquacious red elf, when his two comrades bounded into the tavern evincing obvious pride in themselves. Although he wasn't yet sure what to make of the new information he had acquired, he couldn't help but devote the bulk of his attention to Nelhoepher and Lem, who were more excited and energetic than usual.

"Bert! Bert! We've got the best news, we do!" Lem said with a beaming smile as he sat down across from Bertronius in his booth. Nelhoepher, apparently in possession of a rare few shillings, was purchasing the three of them a round of ale at the bar. Bertronius, still woozy and slightly nauseous from the all the substances he had consumed so far, was not sure that he really wanted to drink anymore.

"What is it, Lem? What have you guys been up to all day?" Bertronius asked, curious about his friends' unusual absence.

"Well, Bert, Nel and I have been followin' up some leads on this whole double agent business, and we've found some pretty interestin' stuff, we have!" Lem replied excitedly.

"It's true, Bert!" Nelheopher added, as he joined them with three brimming mugs of beer. "We're hot on this traitor's tail! He's not gettin' away from us now!"

"Wait," Bertronius asked somewhat skeptically, "you guys are still on about this whole double agent thing?"

"Oh, aye," they replied in unison.

Bertronius sighed impatiently. "What do you actually know about this ‘double-agent’ person anyway?" he inquired.

"Well, let's see," Lem began, "it all started when we heard this red elf fella here at the Loaf talkin' 'bout this guy in the army what was feedin' our side phony information ‘bout the rebels’ movements."

"Of course, we tried to follow up on the elf, but it turned out that he was much better at drinkin' than us, and he managed to give us the slip after we passed out under that table yonder," Nelhoepher added helpfully.

"But we kept pluggin' along as we knew that we were on to summat," Lem continued, "and then one day, a few weeks later, I was a-scrubbin' the stove in the kitchen – Arna said she’d give me ‘n’ Nel some ale for free if I did - when I heard," he paused and looked all around before continuing in a dramatically lowered voice, "Madame Ondine and our very own Arna a-talkin' ‘bout some fella named Starling and how he was gonna get 'the goods' from somebody else with a funny name that I didn't catch."

Lem eavesdrops and uncovers some perhaps-relevant information

"Anyway," Nelheopher interjected, completing Lem's account, "we talked about it, and we figured that this is probably some sort o' conspiracy between a rebel and turncoat in our very midst! We're not sure who it is yet, but we're lying in wait like a pair of tigers, so we'll be there to nab him when he slips up."

Lem nodded confidently, adding, “And he most surely will do so. Truth will have out, me mam always says!”

"Wait - do you two think Madame Ondine and Arna are helping the rebel and in this turncoat in some meaningful way?" Bertronius asked in a skeptical whisper.

"No, no, of course not!" Lem replied, looking scandalized at the very proposition, "they're good women! Honest, decent women!" he said with surprising force.

"I don't think they're in on it either, but even establishments as fine and discerning as the Blushing Loaf can attract a few bad apples," Nelhoepher added.

"Hmm, well, if this is true, it’s pretty impressive stuff," Bertronius said. He felt strangely proud of the initiative -- even if it was most likely ill-advised at best -- that Nelhoepher and Lem were showing. "So what's your next move?"

"Our next move?" Nelhoepher asked, his eyes narrowing, "Now we wait for our quarry to come to us!" Bertronius slowly rested his forehead in his palm in response.