Kaylan returned to the Port of Kestra not less than disappointed in her lack of progress.  This excursion, while not a complete failure, did not prove to be as profitable as she had hoped.  Not only had she just barely avoided an ambush in the lower hills of Chesterfield south of the High Seat region, but she did not gain any truly useful information regarding the location of the dagger.  Denadyne had only vague snippets of information, nothing of which was concrete, and of those snippets, nothing that placed her any closer to her goal.  Even if the Vacchón Monastery proved to have the volume of which Denadyne had spoken it did not mean that the volume would contain any beneficial information.  She was convinced it contained something advantageous simply because of the way Denadyne reacted when she suggested to forego a trip to the monastery.  By the way he was acting, I would say he expects me to go and find nothing or at least nothing more than humiliation - but that would be only if he did in fact read the account and found nothing of importance to him.  Or he doesn’t expect me to go at all.  Either way, he loses nothing.  Shadow picked up his pace as they approached Wheeler Crossing.  “I guess you’re excited to get home too,” she said to him aloud.

The road that led from Wheeler Crossing to the Port of Kestra ran parallel to the Trevas River.  Kaylan could hear the river rats barking orders to each other as their barges passed each other on the river.  She smiled to herself.  They each seem to think their load is more important than anyone else’s.  I think that’s one of the benefits to working alone – I don’t have to worry about a load or a burden. I just have to worry about me and my horse.  She laughed out loud when she saw one barge rub against another that got a little too close.  The argument that ensued turned into a fist fight that was interrupted by the shift in weight on both barges as the sides closest to each other began to sink slightly.  The rats’ attentions were quickly shifted to righting the barges thus foregoing any further disputes between them.  River politics, I will never understand them, she thought silently.

She continued on the road and entered the bustling city without incident.  The Fortress itself was originally designed to protect the Port’s access to both the Kestrian Sea and the Trevas River.  Its physical size had increased over the years as the ruling lords and kings determined to make it their home and business headquarters.  The main keep was protected by two walls.  The first was the outer wall that was built two yards wide and twenty feet high.  The four corner towers provided a complete view of all approaching traffic from the north and south sea routes as well as the Mountain Ridge and the river road.  There were additional turrets situated along the battlements but they were smaller and served primarily as strategic positions for the long range archers.

The second and inner wall was thicker and approximately fifteen feet taller.  It was designated as the “Keep Gate” as there was only one gate by which to enter and exit.  The stone structure of the Fortress towered over the Port, foreboding and gray.  The only color on the exterior of the construction came from the deep royal blue and silver pennons that adorned its uppermost towers.  Many times Kaylan had thought of these pennons as the beacons leading her home as they could be seen, indistinct as they may be at that distance, from Wheeler Crossing. The bleak appearance of the rest of the Fortress did not dampen the spirits of the Port residents.  For Kaylan, this was home and it was beautiful.

The outer gate had developed into the prosperous business district and was always full of commotion.  It was a rare occasion when the business district closed down before the main keep.  The shop keepers usually had their windows open prior to the Keep kitchen’s start each morning.  Bless the Dragon’s Heart should Chandler find he needed some obscure ingredient and the shop that sold it was not yet available for business.  That businessman may as well close down for good for he would never get any more patrons.  For as long as Kaylan could remember business was conducted in this manner.  The most prosperous shops were the ones favored by the Keep’s kitchen.  Chandler learned of these common trends and attempted to buy items from multiple vendors so as to circulate the wealth that no one lost business unnecessarily.  The shop owners also knew this and loved him all the more for it. 

As Kaylan approached the outer gate the streets became more crowded.  While the Port residents were more accustomed to Kaylan’s presence and did not shy away from their daily tasks, they were sure to give her ground so she could proceed to the Fortress unhindered and unobstructed.  She did not abuse her position as Marshall nor did they take advantage of her and fail to show her the respect due the Marshall.  She did not change her demeanor or her stance in the saddle but it was the way others reacted to her that made the difference.  She almost felt… normal. 

Kaylan rode through the crowded district until she reached the Keep Gate to present her papers to the guard.  He was not one of the guards she knew but he recognized her insignia and motioned for the gate to be opened for her to pass without question.  She heard the heavy metal gate swing closed behind her and the ringing of the bar as it was locked back in place.  For as much excitement happened between the outer and inner walls, the Fortress itself was very secure.

Kaylan grew up on the Fortress grounds.  Her father, Marshall Bruhndahl, had chosen to live in town in a modest home with his wife and two children but he spent his days at the Fortress, usually with Kaylan following right on his heels.  Kaylan, from about age four, would watch the men train the horses in the yard and would spend all day helping out in the stables doing whatever odd job they would allow her to do.  When the weather did not permit her to be in the stables, she would hide in the shadows of whatever room her father occupied trying to observe him and learn everything he knew about being a Marshall.  Many times, when her father was away on business, she would spend hours poring over the massive volumes that lined the walls of the Fortress library.  Second to the training yard, this had quickly become one of her favorite places to hide.

Of course, she did not have delusions of becoming the King’s Marshall.  She had been told from a very early age that she would never be the Marshall.  Not only was she the younger sibling but also she was not of Bruhndahl’s true bloodline, whereas Makail, her older brother, was without a doubt Bruhndahl’s birth son and heir.  Sadly, he did not inherit his father’s intellect or his desire to be the Marshall.  He did manage to inherit his mother’s incredible aptitude to spend money frivolously and without regard as to whether they had the funds to actually support his purchases. Lisette, Bruhndahl’s wife, was understandably partial to Makail and thought he could do no wrong.  Kaylan, on the other hand, never seemed to be able to do anything right and Lisette was usually the first to point out Kaylan’s shortcomings. For this reason alone Kaylan found herself at the Fortress and in the company of horses, soldiers or books more often than at home. 

She rode through to the stable yard where there were already several handlers waiting to tend to Shadow.  He picked up his gait in anticipation of the spoiling he was about to receive.  Kaylan dismounted, removed her saddlebags and rubbed Shadow behind his ears affectionately.  “Enjoy big fella,” she whispered to him, “we won’t be staying long.”  He flipped his head at her with a playful nip to her shoulder.  She gazed at the stable boys that had already removed all of Shadow’s tack and were working on getting him to the baths.  That’s exactly where I’d like to go.  She thought about heading to the baths herself but decided to report to King Tramadon first.  No doubt he’s already been informed of my return. She chaffed at the delay but knew there was no way around it.  Knowing Shadow was in excellent hands, she turned on her heel with her saddlebags slung over her shoulder and crossed the courtyard to the kitchen doors.

Inside, the kitchen was stifling but the aromas were heavenly.  Chandler, the fortress cook, was busy inspecting several delicious smelling pies that had just been removed from the hearth ovens.  Kaylan loved the way the kitchen here felt.  It was always warm and inviting.  Chandler glanced at her as she walked past him.  He stood to his full height, which was a good ten inches taller than Kaylan, and cleared his throat.  Kaylan turned back to him, a little sheepishly.

“You no bin eatin, Ma’shel Kay’len?” he asked in his heavy Porter accent.

“I’ve been on the road for a couple of weeks.  I’ve been eating,” she shrugged her shoulders at him, “just not the fine foods that you prepare, that’s all.  Why? Do I look that bad?” she asked him with a grin.

“You kno’ you too skin-ne’.  I pack your bags negz treep.”  He shook his wooden spoon at her to emphasize his concern.  He returned her grin with one of his own, his white teeth sparkling in the late afternoon light.  She laughed at him then turned to leave when she spotted sliced ham on a platter at the end of the table next to her.  She grabbed a few slices on her way out the door.  She could hear Chandler’s booming laughter follow her into the fortress hall.

She made her way down the hall to the king’s informal receiving room.  The double oak doors contradicted the word “informal” as they were quite ornate for a fortress.  They had been a birthday gift from some High Seat noble to King Dallane approximately ninety years ago.  This was one of only two rooms that would accommodate such large doors.  Now it was one of the smaller rooms that King Tramadon used when he was not entertaining in a more formal environment.  The guard at the door, Westlock, knew Kaylan and held his hand out for her to stop.  She looked at him quizzically as he proceeded to announce her to the group inside.  Strange, she thought, he’s never announced me before.  I wonder what’s going on.  She decided to keep her tongue to herself and remain a little more formal than she would normally have been and certainly more formal than she preferred.  She would have to assess the situation further before she said more than she should depending on the company the king was keeping.