DemonWars Saga Volume 2: Mortalis - Ascendance - Transcendence - Immortalis (The DemonWars Saga) (290 page)

Juraviel moved in tentatively and sat down opposite the low-burning fire pit from Pony. They said nothing as Bradwarden dropped some more kindling on the coals and Pony took out her ruby gemstone and her serpentine. She brought a white-glowing shield up over her hand and forearm, then thrust the hand among the logs and called upon the powers of the ruby. In seconds, she had a fire blazing.

Then she sat back, her blue eyes staring at Juraviel above and through the leaping orange flames. She didn’t speak at all, and made no motion for him to do so.

And so they sat quietly for a long time, just getting the feel of one another again—as friends and not as enemies.

“Lady Dasslerond believed that your Aydrian was the only hope of our home,” Juraviel finally explained. “He alone could defeat the spreading rot of the demon dactyl, so she believed. And so she kept him as her weapon. In her mind, the Aydrian who was your son died that night on the field, and while you were saved, he was not. Not truly. What was taken from you was not your son, but rather the hope of Andur’Blough Inninness.

“I know that it must sound horrible to you to hear it put so callously,” Juraviel continued. “But you must understand that our entire existence is threatened. Even saying all of that, I tell you without condescension and without condition that my Lady was wrong in her assessment, and in trying to use any man in such a manner.”

“And we see the result.”

“Her price has been ultimate,” Juraviel reminded. “But now we must get beyond her grave error and salvage what is left of the world.” He gave a helpless little laugh—a curiously human gesture, and nothing Pony had never heard from him or any other elf before.

“The great irony here is that the root of my Lady’s error was my own doing, I fear,” Juraviel explained. “It was I who pushed Lady Dasslerond and my people too close to the affairs of humans. We became more involved than ever since the time of Terranen Dinoniel—and the world was certainly a different place back then. And now here I am, risen from the ashes of my ruined homeland, once again to interject myself and my people into the affairs of humans.”

“Instead of running away and hiding.”

“Indeed,” the elf agreed. “We could do that. We have found our kin, the Doc’alfar, and they have extended their hand to us. We could allow Andur’Blough Inninness to fade from our memories, and find a new way and a new life far removed from Aydrian and Jilseponie and all other humans.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because he’s knowing that yer Aydrian, this thing yer Aydrian has become, was partly the doing o’ him and his kin,” Bradwarden reasoned.

Pony regarded the centaur, then slowly turned back to regard the diminutive figure sitting across the fire.

“He speaks the truth, my friend,” Juraviel answered her unspoken question. “We of the Touel’alfar bear great responsibility for King Aydrian and the monster he has become. And so I come to you, out of mutual need, and offer to you my services.”

“The armies of humans are vast,” Pony reasoned. “And if Aydrian is as powerful with the gemstones as we believe, he would seem unstoppable.” She gave a little shrug. “My people will survive the tempest that is Aydrian. The human lands will go on long after he is dead, long after we are all dead. Your own numbers, though, are diminished, by your own admission. Go and hide, Juraviel—I tell you that as your friend. Go and hide your people away. Your warriors are magnificent, I agree, but you do not number enough to offer any true advantage to our cause. We will win or we will lose, and not a hundred elves could possibly tilt the balance.”

“I do not intend to throw my warriors in battle before your Aydrian ever again,” the elf agreed. “We cannot afford to lose many more, else we will cease to exist altogether!”

“Then what’re ye to offer?” asked Bradwarden.

Juraviel again held aloft the emerald. “You have allies,” he explained. “There lives in To-gai, south of the mountains, a ranger trained by me, the warrior woman named Brynn Dharielle, who has risen to lead the To-gai-ru to freedom from their Behrenese oppressors. Even now, Aydrian has reached southward to Behren, and even now, my couriers are advising Brynn to oppose him.”

“There’s the first glimmer I heared in a bit,” Bradwarden said hopefully, and he nudged Pony.

“With this gemstone, I can travel great distances in a short time,” Juraviel explained, holding forth the emerald once more. “I can take few others with me, and so I will be of little help in moving armies or the like. But in securing a line of communication between those who would oppose Aydrian, and in scouting the movements of Aydrian’s forces, we Touel’alfar are without equal.”

Pony stared at him while she digested the information, and while the potential gain to her cause began to blossom in her thoughts. She had understood the desperation of her situation in coming to Vanguard in search of Prince Midalis. She knew that it was likely that Aydrian had already grown too strong to be supplanted by Midalis, even with her support.

But now this. Now the possibility of finding all the loose threads opposing Aydrian and weaving them into a single force …

“I accept your apology, Belli’mar Juraviel,” the woman remarked quietly. “Help me. Help me make the world as it was.”

“And help you to defeat your son?” the elf reasoned.

Those words stung Pony’s sensibilities despite her logical agreement, and she knew not from where her response came, “Help me to save my son.”

She saw the look of concern shared by Juraviel and Bradwarden at that curious reply, and she understood that look better than she understood her own reasoning.

Still, the woman did not back down from her impetuous statement.

For if she surrendered hope itself, there would remain nothing else.

Chapter 31
 

A
IDED BY
A
YDRIAN
’
S USE OF THE GEMSTONES
,
THEIR JOURNEY HAD BEEN SWIFT
, even against the cold winds of winter. Despite that, the returning soldiers and the king who led them were all relieved to see again the walls of Palmaris that cold and wintry day near the end of the second month of God’s Year 847.

Riding before the column, the first thing Aydrian noticed was that the wall was manned by Ursal soldiers, his loyal Kingsmen. “Marcalo has held Palmaris strong, it would seem,” the young king remarked to Sadye, who rode at his side.

“Could we have expected any less of him?” Sadye asked.

Aydrian slowed his mount and turned a suspicious glance at her.

“What?” Sadye prompted.

“You still love him.”

Sadye looked back to Palmaris and gave a halfhearted shrug. “My respect for him has not diminished—should it have?”

Now it was Aydrian’s turn to look ahead to the city and shrug.

“You’ve placed Marcalo in a position of great importance to the security and expansion of your kingdom,” the woman went on. “Why?”

When Aydrian didn’t immediately answer, she did it for him. “Because you know of his value. You even got Abbot Olin out of the way, because you understand that having Marcalo De’Unnero as the Father Abbot of the Abellican Church will ensure the security of the throne. He is no less ambitious than you—it is just that his ambitions are now more tightly focused.”

“You still love him.”

“If I do, it is because I still respect him and his ambitions. And so do you.”

That last statement brought their gazes back together. “We have no room for jealousy here,” Sadye said quietly to him. “Not from you, and not from Marcalo. Though, of course, you will hold so many of his desires as a great sword over his head that he will have no choice but to hide away any jealousy he might hold.”

“If he has known Sadye as I have, he would have no greater desire than to hold her,” Aydrian said, lowering his gaze to the road ahead.

Sadye’s burst of laughter spun him about immediately.

“The words of a boy,” the bard explained, and she continued to chuckle. “Tell me, Aydrian Boudabras, who will rule all the world: Would you give it all up? Would you forsake your plans and abdicate your kingdom if I asked it of you? I could promise you in exchange all the love you desire and more.”

Aydrian just continued to stare at her, not sure how to react.

“Would you?” the woman demanded.

Again, when Aydrian didn’t respond, Sadye answered for him. “Of course you
would not! There are different layers of desires. So many men become trapped in their immediate needs that they cannot look ahead to a greater future road. Neither you nor Marcalo De’Unnero is among that shortsighted breed. Yes, there will be anger between you two when Marcalo learns that I have moved from his side to yours, but that tension will not threaten the greater goals you both seek. At least, I hope it will not.”

Aydrian said nothing, but picked up the pace again, leading his force to the city’s western gate, bringing them under the comforting and distracting sound of the cheers of their comrades.

H
e was not the first of his people to walk among the To-gai-ru, but Lozan Duk felt the many stares upon him as he was escorted across the city of Dharyan-Dharielle to the palace of the Dragon of To-gai.

He walked into the grand structure, along hallways tastefully decorated, but not overdone with fineries, as was the reputed way of most human rulers. Tapestries lined the corridors, with statues and pedestals set before them. Golden bowls placed upon those pedestals were filled with the most precious commodity of this arid region, water, and from the splash marks and footprints, Lozan Duk could tell that visitors were welcomed to move up and refresh themselves. On both sides a long window, filled with multicolored glass, lined the top of the corridor’s walls, and sun rays streaming through splashed the light tiles of the floor with rose and blues and greens.

At the end of one long hall and through great double doors, Lozan Duk looked again on the strange woman who had accompanied the Tylwyn Tou traveler through Tymwyvenne years before. It struck him how greatly Brynn Dharielle had grown in those few years. Physically, she seemed much the same petite and beautiful young woman he had known, but in her light brown eyes, Lozan Duk now saw the depth of wisdom and a simmer of determination where before he had seen only the sparkle of youthful innocence. He was glad to see that she was not prettily dressed, obscuring her natural grace and beauty beneath outrageous headdresses or voluminous and gaudy robes, as was the case with much of the human hierarchy.

Her smile, one of inviting warmth, would have seemed far less so under the weight of such a disguise.

“Greetings, Brynn Dharielle,” the elf said in his native tongue, one that was not far removed from the language Brynn had learned in her years with the Touel’alfar.

“It is good that you have come,” Brynn replied, the flow of her words a bit more stilted. “My heart is gladdened to see the face of an old friend.”

Lozan Duk waited a moment while Brynn turned to the middle-aged man standing beside her throne and whispered to him, apparently translating.

“I had thought your kingdom secured,” the elf said when she turned back to him. “Surprised I am to find an army sitting outside your walls.”

“It is a long and complicated story,” Brynn replied. “One that may concern you,
or may not, depending on why you have journeyed so far.”

“To bring you tidings of the lands north of the mountains,” the elf explained. “Much has happened.”

Brynn translated quickly to Pagonel, then sat quiet and bade Lozan Duk to continue.

“Your friend Aydrian has assumed the throne of the northern kingdom,” Lozan Duk told her.

“That is already known to me. He reaches his arms out to our neighboring kingdom of Behren, as well, coming openly as a friend, but in reality, I fear, as a conqueror.”

“Know that your fears are justified,” the elf explained. “Aydrian marched his army west to the land of the Tylwyn Tou.”

Brynn’s eyes widened and she gasped.

“He defeated Lady Dasslerond herself; and in her death, she has sealed away her valley from all, even her own people. It was Belli’mar Juraviel who sent me to you to warn you of Aydrian’s imperialistic bent. Know beyond doubt, Brynn Dharielle, that your friend of old is now no friend to either Tylwyn Doc or Tylwyn Tou.”

“Then your people stand beside your cousins?” Brynn asked after translating the news to Pagonel.

“We are one people again, under the leadership of both King Eltiraaz and Belli’mar Juraviel.” He held forth his hand, palm up and showing a large blue sapphire. “The gemstone of my people, sister stone to the emerald that held within it the heart of Andur’Blough Inninness. King Eltiraaz and Lady Dasslerond united the stones once more, as they united our peoples. With this gem, Belli’mar Juraviel, who now wields the emerald, and I can find each other from across the known world.”

Brynn, somehow not overly surprised, accepted the words without question and turned to explain them to Pagonel, who did indeed seem more than a little curious and impressed.

“The Tylwyn people are on the run,” Lozan Duk told them, changing the subject as he stowed away his precious stone. “We are in hiding from Aydrian’s hunters, and while I was sent south to find you, Belli’mar Juraviel has gone north and east in search of Jilseponie, Aydrian’s mother. Many have been set about as scouts, for it is our hope that we will serve as the communication between those who must oppose King Aydrian.”