Down the River IP 10

Island People's Ten

Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends. 

The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.

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The next few days were, in some ways, among the most enjoyable of Seth’s life. Mostly through with the various aches and pains from his injury, free from the hustle and bustle and fishbowl life of the court, continually exploring the various new aspects of his body, all within the context of the beautiful high forest- - life was good.

The disadvantage of being continually interrogated by Wynforr, and to a lesser extent Tristan, was far outweighed by his ability to interrogate them, and his fascination with being able to learn as an Elf. Every tree, every bird, every person, and all of their actions, was grist for his learning mill.

The high forest was an odd mixture of wet and dry. There was an almost continual mist, with drops of condensation dripping from the trees overhead. The Elf skin drew moisture from the sky and absorbed the drops falling on it as well. But there was almost no rain. Some trick of geography resulted in a White-Queen 5 type of situation, with rain to the north of the forest and rain to the south of the forest but never rain in the forest.

Thus the short grass and wiry shrubs underneath the great trees, and the animals that lived on them, survived on the scant drops that fell from the mist from the trees. The trees, themselves, had deep roots, roots that were able to tap into the groundwater that came down from the plains. Indeed, in some places, although Seth didn’t get to see this himself, the groundwater came through the cliff itself in the way of springs, sometimes quite forcefully, the water shooting out several yards from the cliff.

But what he was able to see was fascinating enough, and Seth was disappointed when the trip came to an end. Even doing his best to follow the strict rule of Elf privacy, he had seen hundreds of Elf of all ages during their four-day trip. But the sites he saw when they reached their destination almost made up for his disappointment.

Though the population of the Elf per tree on the trip had seemed high, the trees at the edge of the Great River literally teamed with them. The presence of water, and of the fish that teamed there, made this an eminently livable spot. From the central dock, which was where they arrived at the river, he could look in any direction and see Elf: fishing, bathing, boating, and hauling water.

The smell was incredible. In spite of its trip through the plains, the Great River was still fairly clear, and cold. The glorious smell of fresh water mingled with the scent of the high forest.

The two rivers that flowed down from the plains above formed the ‘heart’ of the High Forest Elf country. Without the water that they and several smaller streams and springs provided, life would have been difficult for the Elf-- and not nearly as much fun. Although elves could gain much of their needed moisture through their skin, the freshwater from the rivers was necessary to augment it in their daily life.

Wynforr stopped for a minute to look over the area and then went to find a boat to rent, which he did easily. Elf frequently traveled down the river; to the southern estates, the swamp, and to Koenig itself. They arranged themselves in the boat, with Wynforr settling himself down in the stern to steer while the two boys seated themselves in the bow and stared curiously out in every direction.

It was pleasant to watch the boys. While all Elves were interested in their surroundings, the curiosity of the young males was particularly sharp. Wynforr was almost ready to consummate his marriage with his wife, and had found his ‘world curiosity’ settling down to a mere series of contemplations.

This trip was a fantastic opportunity for himself but, more importantly, for Tristan. Wynforr wondered if Tristan realised the possibilities in his grasp. He already qualified as an expert (the expert!), in the area of Farmer-Heroiini-Elf transformation. But now he had the opportunity to form a Kolchnar bond with Seth: that bond unique to Elves in their relationship with other races, which combined student/advisor/friend/Brother. They were difficult to form, but once formed were lifetime in nature, and raised one to the highest possible rank among Elves. And such a bond with a ‘Prince’! Wynforr would need to work hard to encourage it.

The next two days were exceedingly pleasant and profitable. They continued down through the high forest, drifting with the current. As Wynforr and Tristan gained more information about Seth, their questions were able to become more complex and detailed. Wynforr noticed their questions were different. While his questions tended to focus on factual details and broader aspects of Farmer life, Tristan was more and more asking ‘why’ and ‘how did it affect you’ questions, specifically about Seth. This was an excellent development.

All good things must come to an end, and far too soon, they reached the edge of the high forest and the beginning of the southern estates: Great mansions, each with their own dock, stood scant yards from the water. Now, instead of myriad Elves in trees, there were occasional Framer family groups at the edge of the water or gangs of boys (or, occasionally, girls) splashing in the shallows. The water traffic increased, with a bewildering variety of boats moving up and down the river.

But the most dramatic difference was the sudden visibility. Before, they had only been able to see a few hundred feet at the most. Now, whenever the river bank dipped low enough, they could see far into the fields and low hills. Truly this was the land and skill of the Farmers. Each of the other races, Marshman, Visser, Heroiini, Dwarf, and Troll, all had their own clearly identifiable, special skills. At times Wynforr had wondered about the Farmers, who seemed relatively ‘generic’. But the sight of these fields and the hard work and determination they represented always disabused him. They were part of why he had decided to make learning about Farmers his life work.

Another reason was the complex power struggles which they called ‘politics’ and which they of all the races had. Thinking of this, he began to wonder where and if, they should put in for the night. One great advantage of this trip was always the opportunity to stop at an estate. Most of them willingly took paying guests.

But if they were to stop… which he would dearly like to do, as he hated to give up an opportunity for study, it would have to be somewhere where the estate owner was not party to the plot. Although Seth’s new form of Elf Boy would probably be an adequate disguise, there was no need to take unnecessary chances.

He decided on Elioenai benEli. An excellent ruler, one who had greatly increased the value of his estate, Elioenai was also known as a man who stolidly ignored politics.

And Elioenai would have been an excellent choice, except that, in addition to those qualities, he also had a beautiful Daughter of marriageable age. When their boat pulled up and unloaded at the dock, there was another guest standing at his window, idly staring out and watching them. A guest who had come to play court to his Daughter; a guest who, some weeks ago, had sat to the left of the Duke around a blazing fire.

His idle curiosity turned to shock when he saw Seth turn toward Tristan, his profile clearly visible: shock and disbelief. His recognition of the second Prince, whom he had seen at innumerable palace functions, fought with his disbelief at the presumed ‘fact’ that Seth was hundreds of miles away on the plains. Added to all this was the evidence of his eyes that this creature who looked just like Seth seemed, physically, to be an Elf!

Could he have escaped? And if he had escaped, how could he have disguised himself as an Elf? And could that be a disguise? He hurried downstairs to a room just off the entryway, perhaps if he could hear his voice…

They arrived soon after he had ensconced himself. Unfortunately, they all were speaking Elf (which he spoke not a word of), except for a brief exchange by the eldest Elf with the Butler of the estate. As their steps echoed up the stairway, he tried to decide: Was that Seth’s voice? It was… and it wasn’t. He couldn’t be sure. Once they were safely up the stairs, he left the room and hurried off in search of one of his servants.

--

The night had gone well. Wynforr and the boys had joined their host at dinner. One of the guests had pled illness and stayed in his room, but everyone else had enjoyed themselves. He had had ample opportunity to observe many interactions of a social nature that he hadn’t seen before.

It seemed that the oldest Daughter of the house, whom Seth had assured him would be considered very marriageable, was ‘holding court’. The young men, in her case, wealthy and powerful young men from other estates, were spending time here trying to convince her Father that they would make an appropriate mate.

He was standing at the window and saw an unusual sight. Late as it was, another guest was riding into the mansion. Wynforr called the other two over to look, but seconds after Seth arrived, he ducked back and ordered, “Blow out the candles!”

Wynforr stared at him momentarily while Tristan and Seth dashed around the room. Before he had a chance to react more adequately, perhaps with a rebuke, Seth was back at the window, with Tristan close behind. “That is Duke LaCrosse!” Seth whispered, watching the Farmer walk up the path. “My Father’s greatest enemy, and my Cousin. It cannot be good news that he is here.”

He poked his head out the window, peering up and down at the outside wall of the mansions. “We can climb these, although I certainly couldn’t as a Farmer. We must learn what he is here for. And then we must leave.” He turned to the other two, “Climb around, find out what you can. Then we will meet back here to decide what we should do.”

Without waiting for acknowledgement, he matched actions to words and vanished out the window. Tristan, seeing which way Seth had gone, vanished in the opposite direction.

Wynforr stood in shock. What had happened? In one instant, Seth had gone from an obedient, if boisterous, student to a commanding presence: deciding, acting, and issuing orders without any thought of being disobeyed. It must be a remnant from his Farmer life, his life as a ‘prince’. Truly the ways of Farmers were difficult to understand. Shaking his head, he climbed out the window and proceeded on the ‘mission’ he had been so strangely assigned.

Ironically, although he was the last one out, he was the one to find the correct window at which to listen. He was rather suspicious of that one guest’s ‘illness’ at dinner. As he understood it, a young, courting, Farmer male would be very unlikely to miss such an event unless very ill indeed. He climbed up and just had time to settle himself next to the window and block extraneous noises when he heard, indeed, the Duke being shown in…

“Well, my Lord Gersham, I suppose you can tell me why I have just ridden two hours to get here?” Wynforr heard the Duke’s deep tones.

“You are going to call me crazy… but I could swear I saw the Prince here!”

A long silence followed.

“Here? I suppose it is possible. If he escaped from the Heroiini, found a way over the cliff, and had the Elves help him downstream… yes, it’s possible.”

“But there is something else. He… he is… or he looks like… an Elf.”

“An Elf? A disguise, perhaps?”

“Perhaps, but if so, it is an excellent one.”

“He truly looked like an Elf?”

“Truly… the long limbs, the lengthened face, even a tail.”

“Well, in the morning, I will have some of my servants come with us, and we will confront him. We will have to be careful not to offend our host. He is neutral in this struggle and very powerful.”

“And I hope he will soon be my Father-in-law!”

“Well, all the more reason then. But at all costs, we must seize the boy. Our plans to kill the King are well underway, but my ‘regency’ would be useless if the boy shows up.” The two discussed the details of how to confront and seize Seth the next morning; then the Duke left to arrange things while Wynforr climbed back to their window, where the boys were waiting for him.

“We saw that you, at least, had found the right window,” Seth said, “What did they say?” Wynforr related the conversation, still puzzling over Seth’s change in personality.

Seth thought for mere seconds and said, “Gather up anything we brought in, and we will leave through the window. I don’t want them to know we are going until we are long gone; otherwise, they might be able to stop us on the river. As it is, we will just be three Elves in a boat on the river.”

Wynforr acknowledged to himself that these commands were logical, indeed, but still…

He continued to think these things over as they packed up (not a long process) and climbed down the wall of the mansion. Seth had written a letter, and Wynforr left his note of hand for their stay. They were very startled when, halfway down to the river, a figure stepped out from behind some bushes and said, “Leaving us so early?”

It was Lydia, Elioenai’s Daughter, the one who was of age, and her voice trembled a little though she tried to hold it firm and authoritative. Seth stepped forward, bowing, “Yes, my Lady, as much as we regret the necessity.”

She responded, staring him directly in the face, a little bolder now, “And tell me; is it an Elven custom to go climbing around the walls of houses, listening at windows?”

Wynforr recoiled inwardly, but Seth boldly responded, “No, my Lady, it is not. Nor is it our custom to offer unsolicited advice to young women on their Father’s choice of a marriage partner. But tonight, tonight both will have happened.”

Now, it was the young lady’s turn to recoil, and not inwardly. Into the silence, Seth said, “It is well known that your Father is a man who avoids politics. He does not strongly support the King, but neither does he comfort those who would oppose him. In that light, I would tell you: Lord Gersham, who so actively courts you, he who was ‘ill’ at dinner tonight, is engaged in high treason, plotting the death of the King and the kidnapping of the Prince. You would do well to send him packing.”

“You… you say this?” she challenged.

“We swear this,” he replied.

“Swear then,” she challenged.

Wynforr began the process (as Seth was the principal, he would be last), “I swear on the tree of my mother that it is so.”

A high oath among the Elves, it fell a bit flat here. Tristan naively continued, “And I swear on the tree of my Father that it is so.”

To continue the process among the Elves, Seth would have continued with: ‘And I swear on the tree where I was born that it is so.’ But Seth was too politically astute and read the insignificance of these oaths so far in Lydia’s eyes, so instead, he stood tall, looked her directly in her eyes, and said, “And I swear, on the land and grave of my grandfather, that all I have said is so.”

This oath she understood. For a Farmer’s Daughter, the land of one’s parents was a sacred trust. Seth’s oath implied that his Father was still living and possessed his grandfather’s land, as Seth would do after him. Seth declared himself the direct heir of his grandfather through his Father and pledged all of this patrimony in support of his oath. She also realised, now, the implication of Seth's original construction: Lord Gersham had been working his treason while in her own Father’s house!

She stared back at him and swore her own oath, “Then, by my faith in your oath, I swear that he will spend no more night under our roof. For his unfaithfulness, he and his will be banished unto the third generation.”

“My Lady, we will speak of this again. May He who Is bless you and your house, may your children fill the land, and may they possess the land of their enemies. We must go now.” Lydia watched them go, and then turned into the house.

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