The Traveler's Key

Chapter Four

My first impression of Valour was it was a seafaring town. It was dark and my vision was obstructed by the hood, but I caught glimpses of  lobster traps, tackle and fishing nets. I saw a pub that had a mermaid on it's door and another, an anchor.  The road we walked on was cobblestone and pitted and there were signs of horse drawn transportation.  I caught indeterminate glimpses of a few people dressed in old-fashioned clothes, the kind worn by men and women who were no strangers to physical labor.  They appeared solemn and spoke quietly - too quietly for me to glean any accent or dialect.  

After some time, we left the small ocean town behind and continued along the road through a moonlit countryside.  We passed farms and I smelled damp hay and manure.  I felt like I was stuck in a dream, the kind where you know you're dreaming and everything feels so real, and I was oddly calm.  I guess if you have the bad luck to get sucked into the eye of a tornado there's nothing to do but ride it out and hope for the best.  

We walked until there were no more houses or farms, until there was just the road through the forest.  The further we went, the thicker the forest became and the narrower the road, until we were moving along nothing more than a path in the woods.  

"This is ridiculous," I said after what seemed like hours of walking.  "Are we almost there?"

The words were no sooner out of my mouth when Thomas reached out and moved a curtain of leafy foliage aside to reveal the castle.

I couldn't believe I was seeing an actual castle - the kind I'd expect to find Medieval England, with a moat, drawbridge and huge wall surrounding it.  There were guards, wearing armor and and carrying swords standing at the gate.  

"Wow," I said.  

Cheezit took off down the hill.  We followed at a more reserved pace.  The bridge was wide enough for a horse-drawn carriage to cross and seemed sturdy enough.  The castle loomed above us as we drew near, and Thomas spoke quietly with the guards, who kept glancing in my direction.  They nodded and taller one knocked on the gate three times in quick succession.  I heard a noise like a latch being thrown and then the gate opened slowly inward.  As we passed,  the guards bowed their heads and touched their fingers of their left hands to their mouths.  The gate closed behind us, sealing us in and them out.

"What was that all about?" I asked.  "The bowing and touching their lips?"

.  "You are their future queen," Thomas replied.  "They show their respect.  Come now, we must hurry."

We walked through a common area, passing stables and a blacksmith.  Despite the late hour, sparks flew as a hulking man shaped a piece of metal - probably into a sword or shield I thought.  We walked along a path to a large, wide stair case.  The door, which must've been twenty feet tall, was drawn open by an old man with a crop of fluffy white hair on his head and a puckered faceful of wrinkles.  He bowed his head and touched his lips as we passed.   

We walked through cavernous rooms thick with shadows, past a large ballroom and an equally large banquet area.  Ascending the stairs to the second floor,my hand trailed along the ornate banister, which was intricately detailed, and I wondered how many hours had gone into crafting such an piece..  On the second floor, we passed a library packed floor to ceiling with books. We took another set of stairs to the third floor and started down a hall lit only by candles.  After a handful of turns, we arrived at a door I assumed belonged to the king due to the heavily armored guards stationed outside.

The guards moved aside to allow us by and as I passed, I had the strangest sensation - like I had done this before.  I didn't have time to dwell on it as we were ushered quickly inside. The room was enormous - there was a sitting area with deep comfortable chairs arranged by a fireplace, which housed a roaring fire, and a work space with a desk littered with papers, maps, ink and quill.