Legends Lost: Galdin

Legends Lost: Galdin (Book 1, Chapter IV)

"That one," blurted Nylana, unable to contain herself, "He is an elf!"

Welton glanced out the window. "By Jove, you are right. He is an elf."

"I was not aware that elves lived in Pras'quel."

"They don't," said Welton, "But occasionally one thinks he can venture here. Vile creatures the lot of them. Always using their magic to influence people. Apparently, this one got caught. A life of servitude will benefit him."

"The elves are our allies in Tesnayr," said Nylana.

"My apologies, my lady. I forgot that they lived there and that you had to deal with such a disdainful race daily."

Nylana squeezed her hands until they turned white. She fought the urge to kick the man and knock his condescending tone out of him.

"Does such treatment bother you?" Welton asked, his face turning to concern.

Nylana eyed the man. Welton appeared genuinely troubled that what she witnessed on the road might have upset her sensibilities. No doubt he was to make certain I arrived in prime condition, she thought to herself. Not wanting to cause a diplomatic blunder, she decided to bury her feelings.

"It seems senseless to walk your slaves to their destination. They might die before they get there," Nylana said.

Welton beamed. "I like how your mind works. I shall bring this matter to the king."

Nylana smiled stoically at him still wrestling with the urge to kick him.

Late in the evening they pulled into the castle grounds. The long journey had tired Nylana and she looked forward to a hot meal and a warm bed that did not bounce with the motions of the sea. The carriage rolled through the open gate and into the courtyard in the waning light of the sun.

"We are here," said Welton. He opened the door and held his hand out for her.

Gracefully, Nylana took it allowing him to assist her as she stepped out of the carriage. She studied the black walls of the castle with specks of gold light in the window as a wave of homesickness wafted over her.

"Boy!"

A young lad of about ten years ran up to Welton.

"Take the princess to her chambers." Welton turned to Nylana. "I hope you will enjoy your stay with us, my lady."

"I wish to meet with your king as soon as possible."

"Indeed, my lady, but he is busy and unable to meet with you today. Tomorrow shall be soon enough. But you and your party are free to wander as you please. Think of this place as a home away from home."

"Thank you, sir." Nylana followed the young boy as he led her through the castle entrance and into a long corridor. The guards and maid whom had accompanied her trailed behind. They wound their way through the maze of dimly lit hallways. Nylana marveled at how the boy kept his bearings as she had already gotten confused.

"Here," said the boy, pointing to a door.

Nylana entered with her entourage. The dreary room did little to lift her spirits. It had been elegantly decorated, but the sparse light gave it a depressing atmosphere.

"There will be nothing else, thank you," Nylana dismissed the boy.

She removed her cloak and gloves with a frown not liking the situation. Not only had the king not greeted her, but now she had been shut away in a room and brushed aside.

* * *

Narúl gently untangled the book from Artryl's limp fingers as he admired the sleeping boy. Thirteen years old and so eager, he thought. In the weeks that Nylana had been gone, Narúl taught the boy how to read marveling at his ability to learn quickly.