Of a Harsh Winter

Chapter 1“Last winter the roads were being paved, and then there was Jandar to deal with.” Tony blew out a dismal breath. “Since then it’s been the same old same old. Try to find something to keep me sane when I’m not traveling for the council. That’s all I do lately: gather information about how the various merchants around the kingdom are doing and offering advice if they ask for it.” “Someone is bored,” Tony’s brother-in-law and Felhone’s premier mage, Leofric, commented drolly. Ylandar, Leofric’s lover, nodded, saying to Tony, “You could always go to my father’s village to work on the fishing boats. That would keep you busy.” “Like I know a damned thing about fishing.” Tony turned to his husband, King Cerdic, with a sly grin. “Perhaps I can take over for you so you can do that. You told me that was your dream as a kid.” Cerdic laughed. “Would that I could, but I am not certain Felhone’s citizens would approve.” He paused until the waiter at the Golden Oak Inn—where they were dining, and where Ylandar and Tony’s brother Daniel worked—had set the platters holding their dinners in front of each of them. Then he smiled apologetically at Tony. “I know you are restless, love, but there is little I or anyone else can do about it.” Tony felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Daniel standing there. “Now that Alex is back home in Rerenlion with his family, you could always take his place helping out in the kitchen.” Tony snorted. “You of all people should know cooking is not my forte.” It was the truth. When he and Daniel had owned a restaurant in their old life on Earth, Daniel had made it a point to keep him out of his domain in the kitchen, deeming Tony unable to boil water without burning it, to say the least of doing anything else when it came to food preparation. “It was only a suggestion. Even you should be able to cut up vegetables without making too much of a mess.” Daniel stepped back when his brother took a playful swipe at him. “If you could get your weather wizards to turn winter into spring…” Tony looked pointedly at Leofric. “If it were possible, they would. They have tried to no avail other than brief spurts when the snow abates only to increase again, frustrating them immensely. And me as well, because believe me, I have no great love for plowing through a half meter of snow whenever Cerdic decides he needs my great intellect to help him solve a problem.” Cerdic rolled his eyes. “Would that it were as wonderful as you seem to think.” “You mean it is not?” Ylandar looked between Cerdic and Leofric in feigned dismay before doubling over with laughter. “Boy…” Leofric growled. “Yes, my Lord.” “What am I going to do with you?” Ylandar grinned wickedly. “I can think of several options but not until I come home after working. And if I do not eat quickly, I may not have a job to work at.” He dug into his meal, which reminded the others they had food as well—although they ate less hurriedly than he. When he finished, he gave Leofric a kiss and then went to take his place behind the bar. As soon as Ylandar was out of earshot, Tony chuckled. “He still knows how to get your goat, Leofric.” “Indeed, but it is only teasing and we both know it, so there is no harm in it.” Cerdic shot him an amused look. “You were of a very different opinion some time back, my brother.” “Agreed, but even a fool can learn to accept they were wrong when the motivation is right. Not, of course, that I am a fool, you understand. That was merely a metaphor to make my point.” “I will take your word for that.” “Cerdic.” Leofric scowled at his brother. “You do enjoy picking on me.” The king shrugged, winking at Tony, and then suggested they finish eating before Saveril, the innkeeper, kicked them out for being laggards taking up much needed space. They did, and were about to put on their winter cloaks in preparation for leaving when Leofric murmured, “What is he doing here, so far from the mountains?” Cerdic and Tony turned to see who he was talking about. A tall, slender elf was standing at the doorway to the dining room. He had long black hair that hung free of restraint except for one braid coming down over his shoulder. Brown leather boots reached his knees, with dark brown leather pants tucked into them. His shirt, what Tony could see of it under his brown cloak, was russet, as was his simple leather vest. He had a bow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back. Tony immediately had a feeling that he was different from the normal elves he’d met but for the moment he couldn’t figure out why. Then it hit him and he turned to Leofric, as he seemed to know the archer, to say, “I sense some shifter in him but how is that possible?” “When a male shifter mates with a female elf…” Leofric replied out of the corner of his mouth, without taking his gaze from the crossbreed. “I know how it works,” Tony muttered. “What I meant was, as far as I was aware Cerdic and I are the only couple who…Oh, never mind.” Cerdic gave him a fast hug. “We are not as unique as you think. It is rare such a pairing happens, but it does. However, Qildor is the only byproduct of such a union that I am aware of. And I would know,” he added. “A crossbred anomaly.” If Tony was reading it correctly, the tone of Leofric’s voice said he didn’t approve. By then Qildor was approaching their table. “Your highness,” he said with a slight bow, ignoring the presence of the others, “I would have a word with you, in private.” “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of my husband and my brother as well,” Cerdic replied. Qildor scowled but acquiesced, merely saying, “If that is how it must be, but not here.” “Agreed.” Cerdic nodded to Leofric and Tony to follow as he and Qildor strode out of the dining room, and moments later out of the inn onto the snow-packed streets leading to the castle. When they arrived, the guards stepped out of the alcoves on either side of the entrance, their swords drawn and pointed at Qildor. “Remove your weapon,” one of them ordered. Cerdic held up his hand. “He is with me and no threat.” “But the law, your majesty.” “I am the law and in this case I am willing to bypass this one. If I am wrong…” He smiled and shrugged, waving the guards back to their posts. “You have nothing to fear from me on that account,” Qildor said sourly as they entered the castle. “I certainly hope not.” After shedding their outer garments and stamping the snow off their boots, Cerdic led the way to the library at the rear of the Great Hall. When they entered, they found Mage Pilore, dressed in his usual fairly ornate robes, seated at the table in the center of the room, his nose buried in a large tome. He looked up, saw them, and closed the tome while asking, “Do you want me to leave, Cerdic?” “No. I have the feeling your input might be needed once we hear what Qildor has to say.” “I suspect it must be important as he…You…” he looked at Qildor, “rarely leave your mountain from what I understand.” Qildor gave a brief shrug, while asking who he was. “I am Pilore, one of the three mages on the council,” he told him. “Not a name I recognize, but then, I know few if any of the elves in power other than the King and Mage Leofric.” Cerdic broke in, saying, “Shall we be seated, and then, Qildor, you can tell us what is so important that you made a trip down here from the mountains in this foul weather.” “It is the weather that worries me,” Qildor replied once they settled in the high-backed chairs surrounding the table. “It is unnatural, as I would hope you are aware.” “True, we are experiencing a harsh winter, but it happens. Why do you believe this is more than that?” “Before it began, other things occurred that gave me pause. Oaks are dying high on my mountain in spite of the dryads’ attempts to save them. As you know, when their tree dies so do they, and with each death the forest loses another protector.” Cerdic frowned. “Why has someone not told me this before now?” “Perhaps because no one cares, even if they do know? As I said, so far it is only happening on my mountain, and no one visits it without my invitation.” “Which you never give,” Leofric retorted. Qildor shot him a dark look. “Would you, if you were me and were hated because of what you were?” “Don’t you have friends?” Pilore asked with a touch of compassion in his voice. “Who would befriend one such as me, half elf, half wolf shifter, a crossbreed, or so they call me, detested by all because I am neither fully one nor the other?” Qildor clenched his hands together. “It was only by luck that I escaped the roundup of the shifters during the Troubles, so I was not imprisoned in Stronghold. If I had been, I am certain I would not have survived.” Tony nodded, as he couldn’t protest. His experience there, if he’d mentioned it, would only have reinforced Qildor’s words. He had the feeling Leofric and Pilore would agree, having been there at the end. “I have a question. Why haven’t the dryads in the castle garden said anything to you?” he asked Cerdic. “Surely they know what’s happening.” “If they did, I am quite certain the one in the oak in the bower, even as shy as she is, would have let me know.” “It is unfortunate that they did not,” Pilore said. “Perhaps with forewarning we could have found out what is causing the trees’ demises and done something to forestall more deaths.” “How would you have been able to?” Qildor asked scathingly. “You are merely a mage.” Pilore scowled. “A nature mage with all that implies. If I had known what was happening…If you had come sooner…” Qildor had the grace to apologize for his demeaning words. “I am not certain what you could have accomplished, you or anyone else, but you are correct, I should have let King Cerdic long before now. First it was the trees, and then the waterfall, and now the snow.” “The waterfall?” “My waterfall, or so I think of her. She was beautiful. Over sixty meters of cascading water. And then…” Grief filled his expression. “Then, she vanished. I awoke one morning; it was in late autumn, to find only a trickle of water coming down the rocks. Of course I went to see if something, perhaps beavers, had dammed the stream that fed her. With the autumn rains it should have been in full spate, but it was dry and there was no evidence to say why. I even went up to the source, where the water comes out of the ground high up on the mountain. It was not blocked that I could see, but no water was flowing from it.” “Impossible,” Pilore stated. “Water cannot vanish overnight. Not unless strong magic is involved.” Qildor nodded. “That is my belief as well. However, why someone would do that, or kill the trees, or create a winter such as we are having?” “There was no sign that someone had been up there?” Tony asked. “Did you become your wolf to see if you could scent a strange presence, elven or otherwise?” “Of course. I am not stupid. There was nothing except footprints in the snow from the animals that inhabit the area below the timberline.” “I need to go with you when you return,” Pilore stated. “I have to see for myself what is happening.” He turned to Cerdic. “With your permission, of course.” “You have it.” Returning his attention to Qildor, Pilore said, “I can be ready with the hour. I presume you will teleport us there, so I will take only what I need.” Qildor shook his head. “I cannot teleport. My shifter half is not powerful enough. We will have to walk unless you have horses available. Even if you do, I doubt they can make it up the mountain to reach my home, considering the depth of snow.” Tony looked at him in astonishment. “You hiked from there to here in this weather?” “What choice did I have?” “Apparently, none. But, with help I can teleport you and Pilore back there.” “Tony.” Cerdic sighed, rolling his eyes when his husband gave him a quelling look. “Why do I even bother? Who would you suggest? Wulf?” After a moment’s though, Tony shook his head. “If he’s willing, I think Folen would be a better choice. As he told me, after the forest fire, he is a child of nature…Well, all shifters are, but he seems to feel the connection more than most of us. I’m not saying Wulf doesn’t as well, but given what is happening, I’d prefer Folen’s help.” “You’re only transporting them up there, so why does it matter?” Leofric asked. Cerdic snorted indelicately. “This is Tony. I am quite certain he will want to do more than act as a packhorse.” Leofric chuckled. “Why did I even bother to ask? I should have known better.” Tony smirked. “Yep, you should have. Not that there’s probably much I can do other than observe, but this is me, and as I was saying much earlier this evening, I am bored. This will give me something useful to, umm,” he shot a look at Cerdic, “keep me out of trouble?” “I am not certain anything can do that,” Cerdic retorted dryly. “When can we leave?” Qildor asked, obviously impatient to return home now that decisions had been made. “In the morning. I have to find Folen and convince him to help. We, well, those of us who live here, need to pack what we’re bringing with us, and all of us could use a good night’s sleep.” “That includes you,” Cerdic told Tony. “You can go searching for Folen after dawn.” “Of course. Qildor, we have guest quarters you can use tonight.” “I thank you, as it seems I have no other choice.” Cerdic looked at the assembled group. “Is there anything else we need to discuss at the moment? If not, I suggest we meet again in the morning, at which point, with luck, Tony will have been able to convince Folen to join us.” They all agreed to his suggestion and Pilore and Leofric left for their respective homes. Tony took Qildor up to the guest wing, and then joined Cerdic in their quarters. As they got ready for bed, Cerdic asked wryly, “Are you going to stay out of trouble this time?” Tony laughed. “I don’t see why not. I’ll stick around for a day or two, of course, so I can see for myself what the problems are and report back to you with the details and anything Pilore might find out about the cause. I’m no big fan of plowing through man-high snow drifts, which I’d bet is what it’s like up there, so the sooner I get back here, the better.” “I am going to keep you to your promise.” Cerdic hugged him tightly. “I do not want you to end up in our bed with wounds that take hours or more to heal the way you have the last two times you got involved with something evil.” “Believe me; I’d rather that didn’t happen, too. What I can’t figure out is why someone would be messing with nature the way Qildor says they are. And why there?” “A very good question, although if the harsh winter we are experiencing is part of it, then it is not confined solely to Qildor’s mountain.” “Which we don’t know is the case. The weather might have nothing to do with destroying the trees and his waterfall.” Tony sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for his husband to join him. “If it does, however, then the problem might be more than Pilore can handle on his own.” Cerdic nodded as he got into bed. “We will not know until he gets up there. Let us hope it is nothing more than possibly a novice weather-worker testing his powers in what he thought was a very remote and uninhabited area of the kingdom.” “Your words to the Lady’s ears,” Tony replied as he lay down, resting on one elbow as he looked at Cerdic. “For now, though…” Their evening ended as they almost always did with them making love before falling asleep.