Lingering Shadows-Chapter 29

Previous Chapter

Chapter 29-Unresolved

The Keep was full of silence. 

Seven to none. The alliance will be renewed. Seven to none. Seven to none. Esben thought over and over. He didn’t know what to say. He was afraid that as soon as he opened his mouth something so happy and excited and relieved and garbled would come out and everyone would think he was crazy. The silence was finally interrupted after about two seconds when Artham slammed a small pile of papers down between Esben and the Keeper. 

 “These are the official terms for the alliance. Keeper, you can read it through if you would like. It is all official. Esben, sign here, Myndik, sign here.”  Esben signed immediately, and no one in the Keep was even the slightest bit annoyed at Artham’s bluntness. 

Myndik made a long show of reading each one of the four pages very meticulously, then signed. He also grudgingly signed the extra copy Artham insisted on. Again there was a long silence. 

 “The alliance between the Green Hollows and Anniera has been renewed under Esben and Artham Wingfeather, and Myndik Bunge,” Myndik growled, still looking angry. 

“This meeting has ended. Tomorrow we will address any following issues or necessities,” Myndik finished. There was another silence. 

“What are ye waiting for?” He asked. “All of ye, go home and come back tomorrow.” He sank back his chair, crossing his arms and glowering at everyone.

  Everyone immediately got up, collected their things, and left the main hall of the Keep. The second they were out, everyone was immediately around Artham and Esben, (with the exception of two chiefs) shaking their hands, congratulating them. Everyone was relieved. Kandir laughed and gladly accepted the thanks Esben and Artham offered him, enveloping Esben with a slightly undignified and slightly crushing bear hug. Esben didn’t mind, and neither did anyone else. 

The crowd dissipated surprisingly quickly, and the second the brothers were out the door to the Keep, the relatively deserted road in front of them, they both exploded. With an indecipherable shout, Esben practically tackled his brother. Laughing, Artham hugged Esben back, utterly relieved. Esben quickly pushed Artham away, but looked up at him again, grinning. 

“We finally did it! All of that is over!” 

“Yeah,” Artham answered, still laughing in his relief. “You did that excellently, High King Esben Wingfeather.” Esben punched his brother playfully. 

“Now can I say goodbye and good riddance?” Artham was about to answer immediately, but then hesitated. Esben groaned comically. 

“Seriously Artham, a yes or no answer. Actually, I don’t need you to tell me if I can.” Esben turned toward the Keep and cupped his hands around his mouth so that he looked like he was shouting.

 “Goodbye and good riddance!” He called, loudly enough to make Artham laugh and glance around anxiously, hoping no one else was witnessing the High King’s glee, but not loud enough that anyone inside the Keep could hear it. 

“I was going to say that technically you can’t, since we have to stay for at least another week or two, to finish establishing the continuation of trade and the alliance as it matters specifically in the way of our militaries, along with other matters, but since the arguing about our alliance is now completely behind us, than yes you can say that.” Esben’s eyes went wide and his expression of glee immediately disappeared. 

“Wait a second, seriously? We have to do all that? Oh no…” Now it was Artham’s turn to laugh. 

“Yes we do, but since the alliance has already been firmly reestablished, it should only take a few more days, and not be nearly as hard as these last couple of weeks, in which we resolved exactly one issue. Then, the rest of the time will be spent preparing for and enjoying huge festivities to celebrate the alliance, followed by the completing of your remaining Kingly duties in the Hollows. Have you seriously not been listening?” 

“As little as possible,” Esben responded shortly. He looked confused for a second. “So…that means we can still celebrate?”

 “Yes it does,” Artham responded, laughing. 

“Great!” Esben said. He took a deep breath of the cold air, looking gleefully up at the heavy clouds that promised even more snow.  Artham looked contentedly at his little brother’s glad face, allowing it to reassure him and fill him up with happiness that was a reflection of Esben’s. 

Then he heard something skid behind him, a short exclamation of surprise, and then a muffled thump. He turned around to see that Aro had slipped again on the frozen, slippery ground and landed in a drift of snow. 

Artham almost laughed when he saw Aro struggling to extricate himself from the snowdrift, a little pile of snow on the top of his head starkly contrasting with his scruffy black hair, except that when Aro saw Artham’s eyes on him his face immediately flushed red in embarrassment, and he redoubled his efforts, staggering out of the snowdrift, knocking off what remained on top of his head just as Artham stepped over to help him. 

“Stupid snow,” Aro muttered, cringing and not meeting Artham’s eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Artham asked, every trace of mirth gone from his voice, but his eyes still sparkled. 

Aro nodded, still not looking at Artham. He hugged his arms to his chest and tensed his muscles, but despite the effort he still shivered. Artham noticed he wasn’t wearing a coat. 

“Come on, Aro. We’re heading home. Did you leave your coat inside?” Aro glanced up at Artham, immediately looking away again. 

“No, I left it back at Oak Hill,” he lied, not wanting to say that he didn’t have a coat, and as far as he could remember, he had never seen snow in his life before, and had no idea it would be so wet and incredibly cold. So far he wasn’t liking it very much. 

“Well here, you can use mine until we get home,” Artham began, starting to pull off his cloak to get the coat underneath. 

“No!” Aro immediately said, backing away a step. Artham looked at him in surprise. “I-I mean, no thank you. We aren’t that far from Oak Hill. I don’t want it,” he stammered.

“It’s okay, Aro. I don’t get cold,” Artham continued. Esben interrupted, looking over his brother’s shoulder. 

“Don’t believe him, Aro. If everything he said was true, he would be completely immune to cold, heat, pain, and exhaustion,” Artham rolled his eyes. 

“The cloak is warm enough,” he said, elbowing his brother. 

“I don’t want it, Artham.” Aro repeated. Artham looked confused, and he hesitated, resisting the urge to force the coat on Aro, but finally pushed it into his satchel.

 “Okay then, but let's get home quick. You’re pretty wet.” Aro nodded and stayed a few paces behind Artham and Esben as they walked home. Artham glanced back occasionally in concern, but Esben was still celebrating in spurts, and some of his celebration included random attacks on Artham, so he had his hands full and his attention was mostly kept away from Aro. 

Aro listened. He listened carefully to every word Artham and Esben said, hoping to hear something he could report to Ryith. Even after his correct information the day before, Ryith was still restless. Restless and terrifying and demanding. Aro shivered, for a second wishing he had accepted Artham’s coat. But he was trying to pull himself back from every show of kindness Artham offered him, because he had finally managed to stifle the confusion that was mixing him up and turning him into a failure. The confusion that accused him each and every time Ryith glanced at him. 

If Ryith knew… Aro shuddered again. He hadn’t known when he had sent the messenger. The messenger had been sent simply because Aro hadn’t been doing his job. Aro had long since concluded that when the messenger hit him hadn’t been part of the message from Ryith. That was just because the messenger had an extreme dislike for the scrawny young man who had risen to the status of warrior and was being considered for a promotion, albeit a very small one which was probably not going to happen now, considering his recent performance, far sooner than he had.

Aro stifled a sneeze, realizing that he was shivering all over. Artham immediately turned around, wrapping his coat around the boy’s shoulders. 

“I may be immune to cold,” he said with a smile, “but you certainly are not. It’s way too cold for you to be going around without a coat,” Aro hesitated, but finally accepted the coat, looking down at himself in slight embarrassment. He only came a little past Artham’s shoulder, and he was skinnier than him. The coat hung halfway down to his knees and went about five or six inches past the tips of his fingers. 

But it was warm, and it was dry, so he grabbed the ends of the sleeves so that his hands were covered and the cold didn’t seep in and pulled it tighter around him. They walked for a while longer, Aro trying to keep up by Artham’s side until they reached the road that led to Oak Hill. To his great frustration he found that he had unconsciously started imitating Artham’s walk again, but sighed in resignation when he realized that was the only way he could keep up without adding to his undignified appearance. 

Then they heard a horse’s hooves striking against the frozen stones of the streets, and they turned around to see a warmly clad Hollish man come galloping up on a horse laden with large bags tied to either side of the saddle. His breath and the horse’s made steamy clouds in the air. 

“Oy your Majesty!” The man called with a nod. “I’d bow but I’m on the horse,” he said. Esben sighed. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked. 

“No sir, I just got yer mail from Anniera. I was goin’ to head to Oak Hill, but yer saving me the trip by taking it from me now,” Artham stepped forward eagerly to accept the letters. The postman handed him three, and Artham read the addresses before turning around. He quickly put one of them in his pocket with a smile before Esben could see it. 

“Thank you,” he called to the postman who had already started riding away. He turned and handed one to Esben. 

“From Cador and Sheridan,” he said slowly, then smiled. “If my guess is right they’re both relatively short letters full of prank ideas. I had better be on my guard.” 

“Well how else would you stay so alert if I didn’t pull these on you when you aren’t saving my life?” Esben asked with a smile, eagerly pocketing the letter. “Who’s the other one from?”

Artham frowned. “Lord Conan.” Then he smiled. “I’ve been so worried every time we’ve gotten a letter from Anniera because as far as we could see, the alliance was going nowhere. Now we finally have good news!” Artham said in relief. Esben laughed. 

“I’ll write the letter as soon as we get home,” Artham said, fingering the letter in his pocket with a smile. They walked the rest of the way to Oak Hill in silence. When they were on the road leading up to the yard, Aro ran ahead a few steps. 

“I can put your coat in your room,” he suggested to Artham. 

“Oh, that’s okay Aro, you-”

 “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Aro interrupted. “I got it kind of wet,” he said apologetically, not meeting Artham’s eyes. “I can put it over something so it dries.” 

“Okay, thanks,” Artham said with a half smile, realizing that Aro was pretty determined to take care of everything himself. He walked at a normal pace toward home while Aro ran ahead of them. 

When he was let into Oak Hill, Aro went straight to Artham’s room. He stood in silence for a second, looking around, then draped the damp coat carefully over the back of a chair, first making sure it wouldn’t drip on the floor. Thankfully Oak Hill Manor was pretty warm, so now instead of cold and wet, Aro was slowly becoming warm and wet. Neither was the most comfortable. He made his way to Artham’s desk, then to the bookshelf, where a few stacks of papers were neatly placed. 

He’s much neater than Esben, Aro thought, weighing the risk of Artham finding out some of his things were missing. He leafed through a large stack of papers, skimming the pages, searching for anything useful. Nothing. Poetry. Letters to foreign ambassadors. Formal documents. Absolutely nothing useful. Aro sighed, receiving the same result with the desk. He glanced up, realizing his time would be running out now. Artham and Esben would practically be on Oak Hill’s doorstep. He made sure everything was as it had been when he had entered, then slipped out, making his way back to the front door, intending to ask Artham if he needed anything else. 

When he got to the door he paused, looking out the window. Artham was walking up the path, reading the letter from the Annieran lord. Esben had dropped behind him, and crouched over. Bracing himself against the biting cold, Aro stepped outside, watching much to his confusion as Esben gathered up a pile of snow as Artham stopped completely, absorbed in his reading. His eyes widened as Esben crept up behind his older brother. Artham paused, having finished the letter. He glanced up and saw Aro staring at him rather strangely. 

Esben saw Aro too and winked as he held the huge pile of snow over Artham’s head. Aro’s eyes widened even further as they darted between Artham’s face and the snow held above his head. 

“Is something wrong?” Artham asked, right before Esben dropped the snow.

 “Agh!” Artham shouted in surprise as the cold, wet snow tumbled down over his head and shoulders, filling his hair and slipping down the back of his shirt. 

“Esben! How dare you?” Artham yelled, laughing as he turned around. Aro watched in surprise as Artham scooped up a pile of snow and aimed it at the retreating form of his brother. Esben yelled dramatically, throwing himself into the snow. Artham laughed, running over with another cold handful of snow as Esben sat up and realized how fast his brother was advancing. He ducked a flying clump of snow and began frantically scooping up handfuls to throw back. 

Aro, still watching from the porch, finally couldn’t help laughing as Artham and Esben attacked each other in the cold flying wetness, completely oblivious to the young man watching them. Aro suddenly had the strong urge to join them. He knew they wouldn’t mind. Then he realized what he was thinking. He bit his lip in frustration and went quickly back inside.