Notes:
Sorry this is so late! And sorry of it’s choppy or weird or strange… 😂 I currently can’t tell. Blame it all on some of my 36 cousins, crazily long car hours, new books, Seth’s war, trampolines, foam swords, weird sleep hours, cats, eating awesome American food, and snow. 😵💫 😂 but all of that is fun and good stuff. 👍
FINALLY I WROTE ANOTHER CHAPTER!!!! 🎉
Chapter 31-Runaway
Three days after the alliance had been renewed, almost all the other issues had been resolved, and plans for the celebration had begun. Esben was at the Keep, getting ready for of the last council meetings required, and Artham was hurrying from Oak Hill to join him.
He had gone to the Keep early in the morning with Esben only to realize that he had left behind a few documents that weren’t essential, but it would certainly be nice to have as a backup. Since there were only a few other Chiefs already at the Keep, Artham figured he had enough time to ride home, grab the documents, and run back. Connolin had refused to be left behind. As he left Artham had paused at the gate of the Keep, glancing around. He had expected Aro to come with him, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.
Now he had the papers in his new and bigger satchel, Connolin trotting contentedly by his side and was on his way back to the Keep. Strands of poetry scrolled across his mind, and he actually was looking forward to the coming days. One reason was that today was the last day for official proceedings, and tomorrow the celebration of the alliance would begin. It would probably last at least three days,
The main reason though, was that in her letter Arundelle had told him (along with quite a few other things that were mostly responsible for lifting his spirits) that her family was coming to Ban Rona for the celebrations. Most of the poems he thought about at the moment were ones he had written about her, and the whole city seemed more enjoyable.
The one part that he didn’t enjoy about her letter was that she had said that the story about how he saved Esben at the bridge had spread throughout Anniera like wildfire, as well as how he had fought attackers in the Hollows. She told him teasingly not to be surprised when he came home to find the bards and storytellers singing his praises. As a general rule Artham did not like people singing about him, though his friendliness and dignity usually kept things from getting too awkward. She had also scolded him gently for not telling her about everything that happened, and told him not to let her arrive to find out he had done something else heroic and dangerous and not told her about it.
The postscript of her letter was a note written in such a way that he could hear the humor in her voice as she told him to watch out next time he left the manor, because one of the pranks Cador and Sheridan had sent Esben was to fill his boots with snow and slush. Artham was very grateful for this little warning and as predicted the next morning his boots had snow in them. The disappointed look on Esben’s face as he went to his room for a different pair of boots and dumped the slush outside was hilarious, and Artham could barely keep himself from laughing. Esben had left the house with a look of mischievous revenge in his eyes, and Artham resolved to keep his guard up for the next couple of days.
His head was full of poetry as he rode through the crowded streets, so he barely noticed as he got closer to the Keep and there were fewer and fewer people making their way around him on the way.
He also didn’t hear the angry sound of an argument until it was just around the corner. He glanced up in surprise and paused curiously. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he thought he heard Aro’s voice.
*
Aro ran silently through the row of abandoned buildings, glancing desperately at the slowly rising sun. The night before, in the house at the end of the road, the Wanderers had gathered to hear Ryith’s plan for the end of the mission. The rest of the night had been spent in preparing for and anticipating the victory that was sure to come. Ryith had sent everyone back to their duties only a few minutes before, which unfortunately looked like it was going to be a few minutes too late. He had to be at a meeting at the Keep that was probably about to begin, and he was on the other side of Ban Rona.
He hurtled around a corner and was barely able to skid to a stop and scramble back around when he nearly ran into a Durgan patrolman’s back. He pressed himself to the wall, his breath heaving in relief and surprise that the Durgan hadn’t turned around and grabbed him.
Maybe he didn’t hear me- maybe he won’t find me. What if they find the meeting place and Ryith is still there and he finds out I gave it away!? I can’t let him find me! his thoughts raced frantically.
He heard the Durgan pause above the pounding of his heart. Then he heard footsteps. The Durgan had been only a few feet away from the corner he had rounded. The alley was too long for him to run down and escape without being seen. Aro looked desperately above his head.
The Durgan stepped into the alleyway just in time to see Aro swing himself up and through the open window, landing lightly on his feet on the floor inside the building.
Aro ran through the empty house, making almost no noise at all, and he probably wouldn’t have escaped, especially since the Durgan was yelling for another patrolman, if the house he was running through hadn’t been the last in the row, and if there wasn’t a window right in front of him, conveniently broken open.
He heard the Durgans shout outside, but he grinned confidently. He barely slowed down to climb up onto the window sill, grateful he was on the first floor and careful to avoid shards of glass.
His confident smile disappeared when he felt the window frame he was pulling on crack and rip from the wall.
His eyes widened in surprise and he tried to jump out but the back of his shirt snagged on a piece of glass, ripping as he crashed to the ground. He hissed in pain, glancing in surprise at the jagged cut across his right forearm from the glass around the window. He paused for a second, gritting his teeth while the numbness around the cut began to throb, and blood started to seep up from the torn skin.
Then the sound of two Durgans running through the street in his direction pulled him out of his shock and pushed him to his feet. He raced toward the sounds of a busting crowd, trying to catch his breath and at the same time twist his ripped sleeve so it covered his cut.
Despite being out of breath, he burst out laughing when he heard one of the Durgans open the door to the house he had just escaped from. He stopped laughing, angry at his own carelesness when one of them heard him and they started chasing him again.
He had made it nearly to the Keep, losing the two Durgans at least three times in the bustling crowds. It was one of the rare times he was actually been grateful for his small, easily overlooked stature. He ran into a group of people clustered around a bibery, squeezing between its patrons and ducking under their elbows and their bibes, not even getting spilled on. Almost.
He laughed to himself again, shaking his head and spraying droplets of apple bibes when he heard the Durgan’s angry shouts behind him. He burst out of the crowd and dodged a lamppost, sighing with relief when he dodged into an alley. He slowed to a jog and looked over his shoulder, running straight into a Durgan patrolman.
He staggered back and looked up to see what he had run into, growing increasingly frustrated at how many things he had run into and how many times he had fallen in the last five minutes.
This can’t be happening to me, he thought, scrambling to his feet as the other Durgan ran into the alleyway. He glanced frantically around him for an escape, but the three Durgans blocked every way out of he alley. His heart pounded wildly as he glared around him, trying to keep his eyes on all of them at once.
*
Artham dismounted and walked with Connolin quickly in the direction of the voices. He rounded the corner and saw, much to his surprise, three Durgans, one of them trying to hold a squirming, furious Aro by the shoulders.
“We just need to know what you were doin’ in there. And why in Aerwiar were you running?” the one trying to keep Aro from escaping asked, clearly trying not to hurt Aro or let him escape, or get hurt in the process.
“Why do you think?” Aro hissed, trying to twist his shoulders out of the man’s grasp. Artham was surprised at how angry he sounded, and increasingly confused as to just about everything.
“Calm down, kid!” The Durgan said, sighing in exasperation. “Who’s taking care of you?” He asked. “Maybe they can explain what you were doing,” he muttered.
“I take care of myself,” Aro spat, trying unsuccessfully to kick the Durgan. “Let go of me,” he growled.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Artham asked as he came up. Aro glanced up at the sound of his voice and a flicker of relief showed for a second on his angry face. He stopped squirming and the Durgan sighed in relief.
“Do you know who this is?” one of the Durgans asked Artham.
“Yes, he’s my scribe. What’s going on?” Artham answered quickly.
“He was in a closed area. He ran away when he saw us, and pardon me, Throne Warden, but people don’t usually run unless they’re doing something wrong.” The Durgan grabbing Aro answered. He must have loosened his grip, because Aro jerked away from him, tried to dodge his hands and turned to run. The Durgan grabbed him by the wrist, and Artham saw Aro wince and heard him gasp, but his face was turned away so Artham couldn’t see.
“He also kicked me,” the third Durgan interjected ruefully, bending over and rubbing his shin. Artham turned to look at Aro, his eyebrows raised in surprise, but Aro was glaring angrily at the Durgan still grabbing him by the wrist.
“That still doesn’t explain what is happening,” Artham said evenly, and even though he didn’t understand what the situation was, he was trying to keep himself from getting mad at the Durgan Aro was struggling with. Even Connolin’s whine sounded confused.
“So what are you doing?” Artham repeated. The Durgan grabbing Aro turned.
“Is it not obvious?” He asked in a frustrated tone. After a moment, he spoke again.“My apologies, Throne Warden. When someone we’ve never seen before randomly appears in a closed area, clearly doesn’t want to be caught or even seen by Durgans, and fights this hard to try to escape, it's customary to ask questions. He’s your scribe?” He finished in a significantly surprised and rather unbelieving tone.
“Yes he is,” Artham answered in a tone of voice that practically dared the Durgan to challenge him.
“Well if he-”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Aro muttered to the Durgan, finally standing still. The Durgan turned toward him with a sigh of exasperation.
“We wouldn’t have to if you would stop trying to fight us and just answer our questions!” The Durgan let Aro go, blocking the way down the alley and gestured to Artham. Aro glared at him furiously then turned and walked immediately close to Artham, not meeting his eyes. When Artham instinctively glanced him over, he noticed the torn shirt, and the torn sleeve stained red that Aro had immediately pulled tightly around his forearm again. The smell of apple bibes would have been a little hard not to notice, even if his hair and shoulder hadn’t been wet. The Durgan looked at an extreme loss for something to say, and was clearly uncomfortable in Artham’s presence and with the entire situation.
Artham also was increasingly uncomfortable, not to mention extremely confused.
“Uh, we have a meeting at the Keep to get to,” he finally said after about two seconds that seemed very long. “Sorry for your trouble. We’ll get out of your way now. Come on, Aro,” Artham nodded to the Durgan turned to leave.
They walked out of the alley and into the street where Artham took Shasta by the reins, and Aro let out a slow sigh when they were back on the main road. They walked in silence until Artham stopped outside the gate to the Keep.
“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Artham asked, resting a hand on one of the bars of the gate.
“No,” Aro responded shortly, meeting Artham’s eyes for a moment, his jaw set defiantly. Artham paused at the unexpedcted answer.
“How about I rephrase that. Tell me what that was about.” Aro let out a huff of air.
“Just what the Durgan said,” he finally answered, glancing toward the Keep, his voice tight and frustrated.
“I was exploring Ban Rona. I didn’t know that was a closed area,” he lied easily after a pause.
“Why did you run from the Durgans? And what happened to you?” He asked, reaching gently for Aro’s arm. Aro jerked his hand back and looked away.
“I-I just wanted to get out. I cut my arm on a broken window.”
“So why did you kick the Durgan? And why were you trying so hard to get away?” Artham asked seriously. Aro glanced away like he wanted to run again. After a second he just shook his head again, stepping back a little. Artham sighed, awkwardly putting a hand behind his neck, wondering what in Aerwiar he was supposed to do.
“I just…panicked. I don’t know why. I’m sorry sir.” Aro finally forced out, his voice angry even though he tried to control it, getting far closer to the truth than he ever would have wanted to. He was rubbing the palm of his left hand anxiously. There was a long moment of silence. Artham sighed, unsatisfied with Aro’s answered and definitely not happy with the boy calling him sir again, but he didn’t know what Aro would do if he kept trying to ask questions.
“So why do you smell like apple bibes?” He finally asked, breaking the silence and sounding absolutely bewildered. Aro let out a huff of laughter and when he finally met Artham’s eyes he almost smiled.
“I ran into somebody of course.” He said wryly. Artham laughed.
“Come inside so we can get somebody to take care of your arm. Is there any glass still in it?” Artham asked with concern as he opened the gate. Aro glanced up at him in surprise, but Artham’s back was turned.
“No glass,” he said after a hesitant second. “It’s not even deep though. I’m fine. I can take care of it myself”
“Hm, now I’m getting a hint of why my brother gets so annoyed at me sometimes,” Artham said with a smirk. “Bad or not you’re coming inside with me and letting someone take care of you. Come on.” Aro hesitated for a moment, but finally followed Artham into the Keep.
Wow. 36 cousins. That's a lot. What are your top three favorite foods? And...foam swords. That's lovely.
ARGH ARO!!!! NEVER EVER RUN!!! IT MAKES YOU LOOK WORSE!!!!!
This didn't seem choppy or anything to me, great job!!!
You've been busy! You have 36 cousins??? Woohoo! New books! (are they good?) What kind of American food do you consider awesome? And snow! 😂 Winter is cold!
Something is about to happen - will it be today? ("Today" for Artham and Esben, not us!) I know, I know... mysterious author silence! 😉 But I wonder if Aro's antics will cause a problem with Ryith's plans! Ryith seems pretty confident that he'll be successful. Little does he know that he's only going to help Artham become an even more renowned Throne Warden.
I loved the interaction between Artham and Aro! "Do you want to tell me what that was about?" "No." "How about I rephrase that..." 😂 It must be weird for Artham because considers Aro a friend, but now he has to talk to him like a dad, or at very least, a boss. (Maybe if Aro had a dad he wouldn't get into all this trouble!) No one likes to have to get their friends in trouble!
Does Artham suspect that Aro may not be all he seems yet?
This was great! Im kinda worried about this festival, but also excited cause Ari will be there, and I have a possibility for fluff! Aro is getting on my nerves, and I can just imagine how upset Artham will be when he finds out!