The Rangers of Aleera

Chapter 34

The manor that would serve as the Rangers' home for the time they were in Moldov was situated in the center of the palace district, the center of the noble houses of Moldov. It didn't take long for the news of a new noble family having moved into the district to reach the others. The first to visit them was the noble in the manor across the street from them and his two daughters.

"I fear I was not expecting company so soon," Dante said. "I'm afraid the manor is in disarray at the moment."

The noble chuckled. "As yes, the joy of moving into a new place. I only fear I am just the first of many. I am Reilen. These are my daughters Wen and Acale." The two black-haired young women gathered a handful of skirt and curtsied.

"Well met. I am Maethor. This is my daughter Denae."

Jelina curtsied. Dante mentally thanked Tressa for her lessons to the she-elf. They had all taken false names with them into Moldov. Dante's name was well known as the Ranger Commander, while Jelina and Ruarc's names were known among the slavers, thanks to their capture. They had been sure that the name of Vashti was well known in Moldov, being the only slave to escape and elude capture for so long. They weren't so sure if her true name was as well known, but Jelina had opted for a false name just in case. Ainnileas wanted to protect his family while Maitru wished to protect his Order. Richard chose to leave his true name behind in Aleera.

"Well met, friend. Might I inquire as to where you hail from?"

Wen, Acale, and Jelina had ventured a few paces away.

"Thera. I feared for my family's life and safety. Denae is all I have left. I would go mad had we remained and something happened to her."

Thera's king was dealing with an uprising. Nobles weren't safe and they'd all heard the tales of entire noble families slaughtered by the lower classes and outcasts. The nobles of Thera held a majority of the country's wealth while the lower classes struggled to survive. Many more were outcast from society, being forced to sell themselves on the streets for measly coin or turn to crime and being forced to live on the outskirts of the cities and towns and avoided as if their plights would infect others. Apparently, the outcasts and lower classes had enough and began to rise against the noble classes. Much like Aleera's elves had many, many centuries ago. Now the country was being torn apart by civil war.

Reilen nodded. "I know what you mean." He looked over at his daughters as they giggled with Jelina. Dante was glad she was acting like a teenaged girl and not the fifty-year-old warrior that she was. He would never have agreed on her playing his daughter had it not been the youthful appearance that made her look as if she were closer to thirty. Without the tattoos, she looked even younger. It was ironic that she was posing around the age she'd been when she escaped Moldov. "My wife passed on, Elohim rest her soul, two years ago. They look and act so much like her. They are all I have. I could lose my title, my home, and my slaves, but as long as I still had them I wouldn't care."

"Denae's mother died when she was still very young. She's my life."

"Aye. That they are." Reilen turned back to Dante. "At the end of the week, Marcus will be holding a feast to celebrate the honor two of his Arena slaves have brought upon his house. It would be my honor if you and Denae would join my daughters and I as our guests."

"The honor would be mine, Reilen. Many thanks."

Reilen inclined his head. "'Tis but a simple invitation of friendship. I shall take my leave and allow you to continue to get your home in order. Good day, Maethor."

After they left, Jelina joined Dante. "I see you were making friends," he said with a grin.

"Oh, shut up."

Dante laughed.

"They are the daughters of a good woman. And Conaire's rival in the Dance. And they seemed very excited about a feast at the end of the week honoring Marcus' house. Two of the Arena slaves he sponsors are undefeated and have brought much honor and wealth to his house."

"So I heard."

"Wen seems to have a bit of a crush on the human half of the pair."

"The other is elf?"

"According to those two, yes. They said he is the only elf to survive ten years in the Arena. Only the second fighter to survive that long, undefeated in his own right."

"What do you know of it?" Jelina was their only source of information about the customs and life of Moldov.

"Too much. Conaire spent much time and bet much coin there. They pit slaves against each other in fights to the death. The deaths handed out can be quite grisly and it is not for the faint of heart." Jelina shook her head. Conaire had brought her along many times to place bets for him. She hated it and it was not her favorite place to be. "Arena slaves are owned by Gavius, the man who runs the Arena. Nobles can sponsor the slaves. Wins bring their sponsors much honor and wealth. You can imagine what losses bring."

Dante nodded.

"It's... where Ruarc and Colmar would have ended up had you and the others not raided the fort."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Fighters not killed for resisting are sold to the Arena. A pair of Rangers would fetch a hefty sum and would bring a large crowd to the Arena."

Maitru walked into the room at that moment. "You have more guests."

"Reilen was right," Dante groaned.

Jelina smiled. "Welcome to the Dance."