Chapter 1

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 5: "Be Like Her"

ARI

Nightingshire was destined to be unlike any place Ari had ever visited.

"We are close," Sir Oliver told her over his shoulder as they trotted along the Pine Road. As they neared the kingdom, the pair found themselves greeted on either side of the road by worn brass statues of the Old Gods and Goddesses. Ari was only vaguely familiar of the world before Osha, the deity that almost all of Cambria worshiped.

"Who that one on the right?" she asked Sir Oliver.

"The one with the curved blades is Nada," the knight answered. "Goddess of War. You have heard tales of the Old Goddesses?"

"Not a lot," Ari said, studying Nada's broad shoulders and harsh eyebrows. She looked like the kind of woman whose only desire was to set her enemies on fire. She was the kind of woman Ari never wanted to be. The softer appearance of the monument on the left seemed more appealing to Ari. "Who she?" Ari asked.

Sir Oliver answered, "Jerra, Goddess of Wisdom."

Jerra held a staff in her right hand and cradled six or seven scrolls to her breast with her left. Sir Oliver explained, "Justice was always her motivation. She, in the legends, was always more successful than Nada at defeating her enemies."

"Why?" Ari asked.

"Because the other Gods and Goddesses befriended her, respected her."

"Why you love Osha?"

Sir Oliver laughed. "I would not call it 'love.' Osha is not a woman, though she is just as inconsistent in her favors as a woman might be towards me."

Ari smiled. She sort of resented that she no longer resented Sir Oliver. "Osha man?" she asked.

"No. Osha is Osha. It is the force that gives you strength or denies it when it deems you unworthy. It is life. It is death. It is justice. It is evil. I think people abandoned the Old Gods and Goddesses because Osha makes more sense. It implies that the world is not opposing winds of chaos, but rather the will of the world to balance itself by any means."

Ari was silent.

Sir Oliver laughed again. "Sorry, child. But I suppose it is best you begin your learning before your education at the castle."

"What?" Ari was confused.

"When we arrive at the castle, I will request upon Lord Gerard to have you learned. I cannot allow you to be my squire if you cannot speak the language of the land. I will request of Lord Gerard to have one of his maesters teach you Native tongue, and whatever else I might deem important for you to know."

"Why?"

"Even Jerra keeps her knowledge at hand. If this world were all about war, then Nada would have succeeded in the legends as Queen of the World. The legends were just stories, but they were right about warriors like Jerra. We are nearly there."

A bright, white castle with blue spires rose from the horizon as Xena neared the hilltop.

"We'll be getting you your own horse as well," Sir Oliver remarked. Ari chuckled in relief. Xena was a big horse, but not big enough.

Nightingshire awaited.

///

"Who goes there?" asked a shrill voice from atop the parapet. A few castle guards peeked their helmets up to see Sir Oliver and Ari.

"Sir Oliver Boumgarden, Knight of the High Order of Cambria, Wanderer of the--"

"Yes sir," the guard said. He yelled down to his men by the portcullis, "Lower the gate!"

"It seems even he is tired of my lengthy title," Sir Oliver joked back to Ari.

The chains of the gate rattled as it opened to reveal the nearly immaculate cobblestone road that led to the great white and blue castle.

The guard from the parapet had come down to greet Sir Oliver. "Lord Gerard awaits you in his throne room, good Sir."

"Delightful," Oliver said, lacking any enthusiasm. As Xena clopped by the citizens of Nightingshire, Ari could not help but notice an overall gloom among their faces. The road to the castle, its gates, the armor of its guards were polished. When it came to its people though, they scowled at Sir Oliver and the horse he rode, decorated in elven leather. Ari knew why, too. She had not been a squire long enough yet to forget what the dirt on their faces and bare feet meant. These people were poor.

"Remember, once they initiate conversation, you are no longer Ari," Sir Oliver warned her. "You need to be ready to answer as 'Jason.'"

"Jason?" Ari spat.

"Yes, Jason."

"Stupid name," Ari replied.

"A stupid name that will allow you knowledge and training," Sir Oliver promised. "So, a stupid name, you will have."

The road led to a vast, arched hall. The rose window above the entrance sported a jagged full moon and stars that radiated from the center. This portcullis need not be opened. The castle awaited Sir Oliver and Ari. A stable boy came by to take Xena's reigns. Sir Oliver slipped him a shilling as his feet met the earth.

"She's kind of a bitch," he warned the stable boy. "Don't stand by her rear."

The stable boy nervously walked off.

Ari was captivated by the blue glow that tinted the floor. She traced it to the ceiling, a stain-glass skylight with more moons, stars and cherubs than she could count. A few women in silk dresses laughed and joked in a cubby in the walls of the hexagonal greeting hall. At the epicenter of the room, four men held up two ladders that held two other men tightening screws on a chandelier made of antlers. Ari could not help but notice the very short stature of the man descending.

At first, she might have thought him to be a boy due to his height, but he looked at her and spoke with a man's voice. "Darn ugly thing, you ask me."

The short man was the first person to talk to Ari in the city other than Sir Oliver, and she did not know how to approach it, especially since she was not so familiar with the language. She looked to Sir Oliver for assistance, but he was already close to the door ahead of them, talking to some of the knights about their swords.

Ari did her best to muster up a conversation. "Where it from?" she asked.

"Some of the mountain elves east of Troutton," the little man answered. Ari would have guessed him to be a creature she had heard of many years ago. A dwarf, they called these little people, though, dwarves were supposed to have pointy ears and furry faces. This man was no dwarf, just little.

As he walked away from the ladder, he asked her, "Though, a better question would be 'where are you from?' That accent is unlike any dialect I've rehearsed."

"From the sea," Ari answered. "I no know where."

"Tragic. Are you planning a long stay in Nightingshire, Madame?"

"I a boy," Ari lied. "Jason. I here to squire for Sir Oliver who kill dragon."

The little man chuckled. He came in closer to Ari and whispered, "That act could not work on a thespian like myself, but let's hope it works better on whoever it is you are trying to fool... Jason. Perhaps, I could show you a few tricks if you would do me the honor of being my audience tomorrow evening. We at the Blue Diamond Theatre are hosting another riveting performance of 'The Dragon of Nightingshire.' Might you come by?"

Ari looked over to see Sir Oliver giving her a worried glance, one that said, Stop talking before you say something stupid. She felt as if she might have already.

"I ask my master," Ari smiled. "Nice meet you, Sir...?"

"Bard," the short man answered. "Simply, Bard. As you were, Jason."

The short man then walked off.

"Jason," Sir Oliver called from arched doorway. "It is time to meet Lord Gerard."