3 When Darkness Falls.8 (50 page)

A few moonturns ago you would have thought something like that was dishonest,
Kellen realized. Building a fortress — holding out a hope of safety — that he thought would never be used.

Now he only thought of it as a practical way to keep the army going.

And they'd use it if they could.

He just didn't think they'd get the chance.

What am I becoming?

He knew what he was becoming.

A Commander of Armies.

* * * * *

BY the time Kellen had finished his preliminary survey of the caverns and returned to the surface, the sun was setting. Jermayan had not yet arrived. Kellen dismissed his men to a well-earned rest, heard brief reports from his commanders, stuffed his tunic with meat-pasties and honey-disks, and took a covered mug of tea out beyond the horse-lines to think.

"Are we having fun yet?" Shalkan asked, joining him.

Kellen drained his mug in a few gulps — it was almost cold, anyway — and sat down on a nearby pile of logs. It looked as if Artenel's men had managed to fell a good part of the forest today, which was just as well. He knew the Elves hated to do it, preferring to harvest trees only according to a careful plan, but tight now they needed a lot of timber in a hurry.

He dug in his tunic for the honey-disks, and offered them to Shalkan.

"Sure we are," he said unconvincingly.

"You did the best you could," Shalkan reminded him.

"I know," Kellen said. "Jermayan says that Andoreniel's… sick."

"So Ancaladar told me."

"All
They
have to do is take the City — finish taking the City. And sit back and wait while the plagues wipe us out. Even before I left, Redhelwar heard it was starting to take hold in the High Reaches. Not just among the Mountainfolk, but in the forests. That means it will reach the Wildlander granaries soon, if it hasn't already. And the herds."

"I know," Shalkan said.

"And I'm sitting here thinking about how to reorganize the units that took losses at Halacira."

"That has to be done, too," the unicorn said inarguably. "And building a fortress nobody will ever use."

Shalkan rested his chin on Kellen's shoulder. "Are you sure?" The unicorn's breath was warm in Kellen's ear. It smelled of honey.

"I'm sure it has to be done anyway," Kellen said with a long sigh. He reached up to stroke Shalkan's neck.

"Then do it. No one can see all of the future. Only their own part in it. And… Wait." Shalkan looked up, gazing at something Kellen couldn't see.

"They're coming."

* * * * *

WHEN he'd left that morning, Jermayan had lit the landing-grove with Coldfire. Beneath their coverings of snow, the trees at the edges of the clearing glowed an eerie spectral blue, as if they were not honest wood and greenneedle leaf, but some strange glass copy made by the Elves and set in their place.

Which was not, considering what Kellen knew of the Elves, something he wasn't entirely certain he'd never see.

The Coldfire rendered the grove nearly as bright as day, and made the Heating easy for Ancaladar to find.

By the time Kellen rode into the clearing on Firareth, leading a string of horses — he'd gone back to get mounts for the new arrivals, and tell Isinwen to make arrangements to send a baggage cart, as it would have been a long walk in the night cold otherwise — the four of them had already dismounted. Vestakia was on her knees in the snow, hugging Shalkan, while Jermayan and Idalia hung back, giving Shalkan the space he needed to approach Vestakia in comfort.

They were supporting Cilarnen between them.

"Is he all right?" Kellen asked.

"Doesn't like to fly," Idalia said, doing her best to suppress a smile. "I gave him a soothing cordial."

"I am
never
doing that again," Cilarnen said fervently, raising his head with an effort. His speech sounded slurred. "If we were meant to fly, there would be spells for it. I'm sorry, Ancaladar, but I am not a dragon."

"I take no offense, Cilarnen," the dragon said kindly. "Many people do not like to fly."

"I am so glad you're all right, Kellen," Vestakia said, getting to her feet and brushing snow from her knees. She walked over to Kellen. "And I'm glad you won't have to fight the Shadowed Elves anymore. I tried so hard to find out what you needed to know in time!"

"Well I think they're all gone now," he said soothingly. "But I won't mind having a second opinion. Maybe tomorrow you can go down and look around. The caves are safe in most areas."

He'd spoken without really looking at her, as he'd trained himself to do. But there was something… different… in her voice, and without thinking he took a good look at her face.

She looked… old.

No, not old.
Haggard.
Worn, feverish, her cat-gold eyes with their slitted pupils blazing bright with fever — or the edge of madness.

For an instant he forgot his Mageprice, the battle, everything but taking her away somewhere where she'd be
safe —

Shalkan cleared his throat.

Kellen stepped back.

No.

"We'd better get back to camp," he said.

* * * * *

VESTAKIA rode behind Cilarnen, helping him stay in the saddle. Jermayan had remained behind to oversee the unpacking — Cilarnen had refused to leave until he had been told that his precious baskets would be removed just as they were and transported to his tent untouched.

"I think I would rather travel with an entire Ladies' Academy than one High Mage," Idalia scolded him, once the three of them were heading in the direction of camp.

"Wildmage Idalia, you would rather not travel with a High Mage at all," Cilarnen corrected her grandly. "We are most inconvenient."

"But sometimes useful," Idalia said. "As long as you don't try to do too much."

Cilarnen waved that aside.

Kellen thought that Cilarnen must have been doing far too much, Elemental power-source or not. He looked to be as exhausted as Vestakia did, and his condition could not be entirely accounted for by the effects of whatever Idalia had dosed him with.

He'd said the magick he was working with was dangerous — to him.

How dangerous?

And would it matter? They needed all the help they could get right now. No matter the cost.

With a day's warning of their arrival—and the knowledge that, on dragonback, they would of necessity be traveling light — Kellen had been able to assemble accommodations that provided not only shelter, but clothing and other basic necessities as well. He'd set aside an entire tent for Cilarnen's use, and helped Idalia and Vestakia settle him in. Cilarnen refused everything but a cup of heavily-sweetened tea.

"I promise you, Idalia, I'll eat an entire roast ox in the morning, so long as Kellen doesn't need any spells cast."

"Not tomorrow," Kellen said. He thought Idalia might slay him on the spot if he said anything else.

"Fine," Cilarnen said, thrusting the empty mug back at her, and throwing himself down in his blankets. "Now go away."

"Ah, the courtly manners of Armethalieh," Idalia said mockingly. But her voice was gentle.

"He seems very tired," Kellen said, when the three of them stood outside Cilarnen's tent.

"You don't look that much better," Idalia said tartly. "But yes. He's been wearing himself to a frazzle doing all that Redhelwar asks of him — and more. But let's go somewhere warm where we can talk. I think you need to know about Nerendale."

When the three of them were gathered together in Kellen's tent, she told him about the night Cilarnen had seen the massacre at Nerendale.

"The Bounds stop our scrying, but they cannot keep a High Mage out. Cilarnen has been able to look into Armethalieh, and tell us what goes on there.
They
are raiding freely within the Bounds — after what happened at Nerendale, you may be certain Cilarnen stays away from
Them
, but it's not hard to figure out from listening to the Council sessions — and he's been doing quite a bit of that. 'Lord' Anigrel has convinced the Arch-Mage that Wildmages are responsible for every single death."

"How close is Anigrel to taking down the City Wards?" Kellen asked.

"Cilarnen says they're more complicated than Anigrel thought. He thinks they've been seriously tampered with, but that the Demons still can't cross the City walls physically. He says something about the Light Itself working to Heal the wards."

Kellen shook his head. "Maybe he can explain it to me, but I doubt it. It would be nice if it were true. If
They
can't get in,
They
can't get their hands on the High Mages. Or the rest of the people."

"Unless
They
make them come out," Idalia said.

"Or someone orders them to come out, the way they were ordered to go to Nerendale," Kellen said. "But I don't think
They'll
risk doing anything in sight of the walls. As much as I loathe them, the High Mages do remember…
Them.
If the High Mages knew who Anigrel
really
served, who their real enemy was, I don't think they'd sit by tamely and let him hand them over to
Them.
"

"So they're safe — or almost safe — for now," Idalia said. "I never thought I'd be glad of that."

There was a jingle of bells outside the tent.

"Enter and be welcome," Kellen said automatically.

Jermayan walked in, shaking the snow from his cloak, and settled himself beside Idalia.

"Cilarnen's baskets reside with Cilarnen. You will have to await the morning to retrieve your medicines, Idalia, for I fear I would rather face an Enclave of Shadowed Elves than hear what I would hear did I tamper with his spellbooks."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Kellen smiled. He could imagine as well as Jermayan could what Cilarnen's reaction would be, though it baffled Kellen what possible harm could come of just touching the volumes. It was not, after all, as if they had any innate magic — unlike, say, a Wildmage's Three Books.

"And now," Idalia said, breaking into his thoughts, "maybe you'd like to tell us why we're here? Vestakia's here because of the caverns, and she needed Jermayan to get her here, but Cilarnen isn't going to be that much use to you as far as I can imagine here, and do you really need another Healer?"

"No," Kellen said. "I need you to go to Sentarshadeen, and tell me if there's anything that Cilarnen can do there. So that means you and Jermayan and Ancaladar. Of your courtesy, Jermayan."

"It is my pleasure," Jermayan said. He paused for a moment, sipping tea. "Redhelwar has told me all that you gave Keirasti to tell him."

Kellen nodded, understanding the oblique remark. Idalia and Vestakia looked puzzled. Obviously Jermayan had not shared the news with them.

"I think that's enough plain speaking for now," Kellen said slowly. If they spoke of the matter any further here, it would be all over the camp in a matter of minutes. Tent walls were thin, and Elven ears were sharp. Even if nobody spoke of the matter openly — and the rituals of Elven politeness would ensure that — they'd still all know.

"Then let it remain so," Jermayan agreed.

"I suppose you'll explain things eventually," Idalia muttered darkly. "Tomorrow," Jermayan promised. "Upon the wing."

"But aren't you going with them, Kellen?" Vestakia asked, obviously puzzled.

"Ancaladar can only carry one passenger," Jermayan said. "And Kellen must remain to give orders to the army. If there is true need of his presence, or Cilarnen's, in Sentarshadeen, I will leave Idalia there and return."

It was a hard choice, but Kellen knew it was the right one for him to have made.

"There's just one thing I'd like you to do for me before you go," Kellen said.

"It would be interesting to discover what that thing might be, should you wish to tell it," Jermayan answered, both his tone and his words overly-formal to the point of subtle Elven humor.

"Build me a bridge, of your courtesy," Kellen responded in the same vein.

To Build a Bridge

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Kellen, Jermayan, and Ancaladar stood at the edge of the Angarussa.

Kellen had explained what he needed: a stone bridge, suitable for cavalry and heavy carts. By the time Keirasti got here, the bridge would be covered with snow and probably ice as well, so the sledgewagons should pass over it easily enough.

He'd almost thought Jermayan would refuse flat out.

"Kellen, there has
never
been a bridge over the Angarussa here," the Elven Knight said, shaking his head.

Idalia had made a small sound of exasperation, throwing up her hands. "Perhaps you will tell Keirasti that, when she arrives, Jermayan. I'm sure that will impress her."

"A bridge of ice — " Jermayan had suggested.