Ceridor (Danubian #4)

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Johann

We spent the night at the border village where Ceridor had brought my sister and me to safety two years before.

That night I dreamed of magic and unseen gods. The not knowing was the worst of it: what the lantern gods wanted and why, whether they intended to use us and then just let us die when our endeavors no longer amused them. Then in the dream I heard my Ceridor's sweet chuckling, his voice telling me that we can only guess at the motives of the divine, and such conjecture was perhaps not a productive use of our time.

We spent a long and lazy morning in bed together, though we didn't risk talking about anything security sensitive until we were out of the populated area. Then back into the forest we went, and after crossing into Danubian territory we kept quiet, in case there were any followers who might overhear.

When we emerged from the forest and into the plains and prairie, I was relieved to find the small border towns looking as if they were doing well enough these days. I had not returned to my home of West Danube, not a single time, in two years, even though I was living just next door in East Helvetica. Though I had grown a bit and filled out my frame since I had last been home, I still needed to be ready in case anyone recognized me and made it into a political incident. I was once again thankful that I took more after my mother than father in appearance.

We rented relay horses at the village just past the forest and made it to the capital by late afternoon.

I was impressed by the relative prosperity of even the more remote farming villages that we passed. The communities weren't wealthy by any means, and did not mirror the relative stability of East Helvetica, but I had expected things to look more rugged and was pleased they didn't.

We checked into an inn on the edge of town after donning our disguises by the side of the road, just in case. Nothing drastic, unlike Ceridor's Old Man persona he adopted via the use of a magical glamour when he was going deep undercover. We just donned hats and vests over linen shirts that made us look like nondescript townsmen from the area, rather than the beautiful flowy shirts Ceridor preferred and my straight button-ups that were more common in East Helvetica.

We rested from our travels, then that evening we went back outside and found the festival for the first of May.

Celebrating the planting season, as usual there were flowers everywhere, decorated market stalls, and the wicker baskets everyone used to carry foodstuffs and other small wares.

What I wasn't expecting was signage claiming this was also a dragon festival. Pale blue representations of a long dragon undulated as kite streamers in the breeze were tied to nearly every tent post and market stall.

"It seems the people are doing well." My voice grew thick, and the welling of tears made my vision wobbly. "I'm so glad."

"Ulbrecht's stand-in for the kingship has ruled capably, from what I've witnessed passing through here on my way home," answered my partner, a feeble hope in his eyes that were the same blue as the dragon streamers.

We grabbed cups of our local honeyed tea and sat out front to watch the festivities and decide where we wanted to go first. The taste of home, the delicious honeyed tea warmed me to the core. The madam running the inn brought us stew and rolls, solving that problem for us and keeping our dinner money in-house, but I was ravenous enough I fully planned to hit the market stalls also.

Something about the pale blue dragon streamers niggled at me, so I thought about it a long moment while Ceridor and I ate.

I set my bowl down and cocked my chin toward the dragons. "I asked you what a creek sprite might have in terms of motivation to get us to light those candles for her, and you told me to meditate on it."

Ceridor nodded, still tucking into his food.

I smiled. It was simplistic, but still, I loved the way it fit. "Dunu the creek sprite, or rather her mother, the Danube River, symbolizes Water."

My lover sent me a skeptical look, clearly wondering if I expected praise for such a basic remark, but I waved him off to let me finish.

"The candles"—I glanced at Ceridor, and from his expression I knew that he knew it was the lanterns that I was really referring to—"are Fire."

Again that skeptical look, as if he wanted to pat my head and say "Good boy."

But I pushed onward. "You said the…effects of the candles…seem to benefit Mother Nature, because it's easily absorbed in a surrounding forest or at least soil. That's Earth."

"You've got three of the four elements in our invocation and banishing ritual taught at the monastery," Ceridor provided, following my reasoning. "Assuming the three forms of spirit are already accounted for to total seven, you still need a representation of Air."

I cocked my chin at the dragon streamers again.

Ceridor had been tipping the bowl up and slurping the last of the broth from his stew, but at my gesture his gaze followed where I indicated and his eyebrows rose. He set his bowl down and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth.

"A sky dragon for Air?" my lover asked.

"It's even sky blue!" I rejoiced, bumping shoulders with him.

"The colors vary depending on the region," he countered, "but that's an interesting point. If Ulbrecht is the Danubian Dragon, then all the elements are now present from the ritual, in which something can take place or come into manifestation. If nothing else, it's an interesting framework in which to view what is happening."

"It would also explain Dunu's involvement," I surmised, brainstorming on the fly, "at least in Helvetica."

"How so?"

I shrugged. "Helvetica has been stable for longer, and the forests haven't taken such a hit from the kind of desperate poverty that Danubians have had to put up with from the constant threat of invasions. If you're at risk of starvation or freezing to death, you'll be driven to desperate measures at the expense of the natural environment, because you might not even live long enough to deal with longer-term problems like depleted topsoil. If Earth is an important part, then maybe Dunu wanted to foster the baby flames further upstream of the Danube, and somewhere where Nature has been thriving for a long time."

Of all things, that seemed to strike a vulnerability in my partner. I reached out and patted his knee, wondering what was wrong. He sniffed and looked around, trying to collect himself, but his voice still came out choked. "Things are so much better here, just in the years since Ulbrecht and his men seized control. I wandered these lands in constant fear of my life for a good decade before that, and I'm just...so glad the brutal poverty and desperation I witnessed from back then seems to have been alleviated and is continuing to get better."

I slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, careful not to jostle his recovering arm. "We'll protect this peace, and its king. I'll protect him."

Ceridor nodded. "I too will do what I can."