Forgotten Embers

50. Jordan Carder

He was a tall, slender man with a long face and pale skin. His ever bright eyes were an orangey-brown, as his silvery hair had once been. He wore his hair in the traditional style and just long enough to cover the tops of his ears. He had a thin mustache which dropped neatly to either side of his mouth and a short strip of beard covering his chin beneath. He dressed very elegantly in the traditional style of the northeast, not too unlike the dress which Webber himself wore, though Jordan had a tendency to be a bit more overstated than his friend was. He wore his shirts with puffy sleeves of finer material and detail, longer coats trimmed with more vibrant patterns, and the like. Still, he was a modest and magnanimous man who never lived outside his means or in excess, and even the house itself was built just large enough for himself and his family to live comfortably while entertaining guests and the guesthouse was, itself, a necessary part of his office.

There was a group of soldiers patrolling the area of the household who caught sight of them as they came near the porch.

"Halt!" a man with a spear called out as the small company of men rushed to surround them. "Who goes there? State your business!"

Webber looked at the men, assessing their uniforms. 'These aren't Zephyr's men, which is fortunate. Likely, they're local militia assigned to keep the property and protect Jordan. Even so, to identify ourselves would not be in anyone's best interest.'

"Please, sir," he said, exaggerating his northeastern accent, "I am a stranger from Damascus. I have come to see Mr. Carder in need of refuge for myself and my companions."

"Damascus? Why come so late?" the man asked Eliezer with a shrill tone of accusation. "That's not far north of here. Why arrive so long past curfew?"

"We seek shelter, as I told you," Eliezer said again. "We are Kingsmen, come to Elkshire on business." He paused. "We were unable to make proper accommodations because of the sensitive nature of our visit here."

"And what would that be?" the man asked gruffly, raising his spear.

"It involves Ambassador Webber," he said, his words short and concise.

'Presumably, that should be of enough interest to you that you let us go.'

"That's why we're out tonight, sir," the man said. "Men like that, fugitives of the law... terrible, just terrible! Webber... men like that are just the kind of men we're looking for - scoundrels!"

He could feel Dorcus as her eyes watched him, and he moved his arm discreetly to the side to calm her. 'Peace, dear lady. All is well.'

"And what would you do if you were to find such a man as Eliezer Webber?" he diplomatically inquired.

"I would invite him in for tea, of course!" a familiar voice interrupted.

Eliezer smiled. He looked up to see the face of Jordan Carder as he made his way down from the porch wrapped in a burgundy robe.

The guardsmen were slow to speak, appearing to respond to the presence of Jordan and his brash display of friendly exuberance. "Please, please!" Jordan called to them, "Can't you see? These are my friends and their companions!"

"Hold now!" Eliezer said, putting up a hand. "Our friendship may depend upon what type of tea he has."

Jordan let out a mighty laugh. "Whatever! So long as your heart desires it!"

"Ah, a true friend, indeed!" he jokingly declared, dismounting.

"Well, men," Jordan said, addressing the soldiers, "make yourselves useful and stable my companions' horses." He turned to Webber as the others dismounted. "Eliezer," he said, lowering his voice, "I have three spare bedrooms in my house. I think it would be best if you would stay in one of them and," he looked over to check and see who else was present, "Dorcus in another. I don't know who should..." he saw Benjamin and smiled, "Caliphus?"