Eleanor (65 page)

“I can feel it,” Conlan said softly.

“You can feel her emotions?” Merl asked incredulously.
 

Still not taking his eyes off Eleanor’s face, Conlan nodded. Slowly his words reached through the terror’s grip.
He can feel my emotions, too?
 

“Eleanor,” Conlan said. “Can you tell me why you’re afraid?”

“Daratus… I think he sent the men, which means he knows where we are,” Eleanor said, still speaking English and making a couple of mental leaps she had no evidence for, just a strong hunch. Merl was watching intently; Eleanor found the scrutiny a little creepy.
 

“Are you sure about that?” Will asked from behind her. Eleanor turned her head to find he had started the fire and was putting water on to heat.

“No, there’s nothing sure where these memories are concerned… I’m sorry, I really can’t remember…” she tailed off. Eleanor tried not to cry, but it was too late, the tears were falling. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Looking up she saw Freddie and Amelia step into the firelight; Amelia was carrying the dead body of a large lizard.
 

Freddie marched towards Eleanor and crouched at her side. He glared at Conlan.
 

“Take your hands off her,” he snapped. Guilt flashing across his face, Conlan took his hand from Eleanor’s shoulder.
 

“It’s not his fault, Freddie,” Eleanor tried to explain. Freddie put his arms around her and Eleanor closed her eyes, resting her head against Freddie’s chest, a wordless comfort.

“What happened?” Freddie asked over her head.

“Eleanor thinks Daratus knows where we are,” Will told him.

“What was that about? Is she OK?” Merl asked.

“Eleanor thinks Daratus sent the men who attacked us,” Conlan said.

“Does this mean she remembers?” Merl asked.

Eleanor shook her head, looking at Merl. “It is not a memory, just a strong feeling.”

“So what do we do?” Will asked in English, including Freddie in his question.

“It’s not really enough to go on, at least not until we find out more. We should keep going,” Conlan said.

“OK, but could we at least take it in turns to sit guard at night?” Freddie asked, sounding irritated. “I’ll start tonight.”

“Are you sure? That dart didn’t do you any more favours than it did the rest of us,” Will said.

“I could ask Merl...” Conlan started.

“No!” Freddie snapped, giving Merl a distrustful look. “I’d feel better if it was just us,” he added, making his tone softer as he caught the flash of annoyance in Conlan’s face. Merl had noticed Freddie’s look and raised an eyebrow at Conlan in question.

“We are just setting up some precautions,” Conlan said.
 

Still suffering from the effects of the drug, they ate very little for dinner and went to bed early. Eleanor lay with her eyes closed, pretending to sleep but instead listening to Merl and Conlan talk. Conlan asked questions about his grandfather and Merl asked about their travels and activities. Eleanor realised as the conversation progressed that Conlan was giving very little information away. Each question he asked tested the extent of the knowledge Merl already had, and Conlan gave no information beyond this level. Merl knew they were looking for the Talismans, but he did not know what the Talismans were or where they had been before Nethrus. Eventually Merl asked what they were doing in a dangerous place like the southern savannah. ‘We need to speak to the People of the Horse’ was Conlan’s terse reply. Merl asked if he could tag along for a while, in case they needed his help. Conlan agreed, but Eleanor heard the hesitation in his voice – he had listened to Will and Freddie, and he was being cautious. Explaining that he was still feeling unwell, Conlan called a halt to the conversation as Merl’s questions became more insistent.
 

Eleanor listened to the night; out here the darkness was more alive than the day. She heard the whining barks of some sort of fox as it hunted the small weasels and shrews that inhabited the flat world around her. She had never seen any of these animals, but when she pushed her energy out she felt them. She was tired, but her mind did not seem to want to sleep. It occurred to her why as the silence beat against her – she could not hear Freddie snoring. Would it help if she went and slept closer to Conlan, so she could hear him breathe? She tried to stifle a yawn and failed miserably. Opening her eyes, she could see Merl sat a few feet from Conlan, staring into the fire. He raised his eyes and focused on something behind Eleanor’s head, a questioning look on his face. Turning, she saw Freddie sat behind her, his back against a small, thin tree, his glittering black eyes returning Merl’s stare. Merl pulled himself up and walked over to Freddie’s side, crouching next to him.

“I am not the threat you think I am,” he whispered in a pleasant tone. Not understanding the Dwarfish, Freddie just glared at him. The older man shrugged, moved a little distance away and curled up. He closed his eyes to sleep.
 

Freddie, Merl was just telling you he’s not a threat
, Eleanor said as Freddie pulled her offered energy towards him.

He can say it all he likes, but it doesn’t mean it’s true.

No, I suppose not, but if Conlan and Gregor trust him, maybe we should trust their judgement.

Silence.

Freddie, I need to talk to you about something. I was going to say something earlier but then we were attacked and…

You still love him.
Freddie’s voice was hard, cold.

Eleanor cringed.
Yes, I do, I think I always will. I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes; you want more from me than I’m able to give. Can’t we just be friends?

More silence, but Eleanor could feel the sharp bursts of Freddie’s pain slipping through his defences. Wrapping her blanket around her, Eleanor stood and shuffled heavy-eyed to Freddie’s side.

Want some company?

He did not look at her, but gave a small nod of his head. Eleanor sat next to him, yawning again.
 

You need to sleep, you’re still ill from that dart. Come on, lie down
, Freddie said quietly, patting his thigh.
 

Freddie…
Eleanor started, feeling uncomfortable.

Just friends, Eleanor.

She nodded and sank to the ground, guilt pulsing through her as she wrapped her blanket around her and rested her head on Freddie’s leg. He stroked her hair tenderly as she drifted off to sleep.

The first rays of the morning sun were splashing liquid silver across the barren land when Eleanor woke to Freddie stretching his stiff back slightly, massaging the knots.
 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, offering her a tired smile as she sat up. They watched as across the fire Conlan stirred, wincing as he sat up and absently rubbed his side. He noticed their scrutiny, his expression another one Eleanor did not understand. She smiled at him but he did not return it; rather, he held her gaze for a moment longer, a frown knotting his forehead, before he stood and moved off to collect firewood.

“What did I do now?” Eleanor murmured, watching his back as he walked away. Freddie shrugged.
 

As they travelled they rotated the watch every night. Freddie had stubbornly resisted Conlan’s suggestions that Merl be included in this nightly vigil. The argument had eventually come down to a vote. Will had agreed with Freddie, saying it was a sensible precaution. Eleanor had voted against Freddie, as she rather liked Merl. Amelia had pointed out she had nothing against Merl, but she agreed that she was not ready to trust him to watch over them as they slept. The result of the vote had put Conlan in a foul mood for days. Eleanor did not understand Freddie’s reaction, as Merl had done nothing at all to arouse suspicion, he was funny, friendly and chatty, telling them stories about the things Conlan had got up to as a child. Eleanor enjoyed listening to his tales and asking whispered questions about Conlan she knew he would not have answered himself. Journeying further into the savannah they saw no one, so it was a big surprise to Eleanor when she was prodded awake, early one morning, with the sharp tip of a sword in her shoulder.

The Sword

It had been Will’s turn to watch over them, and as Eleanor’s eyes flew open, her first thought was that Conlan was in trouble. She sat bolt upright, tense, looking for the danger and found it all around them. Twenty tall, muscular men stood in a rough circle along the perimeter of their camp, so confident in their numbers that not every sword was drawn. They all had ebony-black skin, short black hair and black eyes; they blended effortlessly into the early morning light.
Why are they just stood watching us?
Eleanor thought distractedly, watching as Freddie got the same rough wakeup call she had received. Will and Amelia were already awake. Will was sat very still, the sharp edge of a small blade pressed into his throat, while Amelia sat stiffly next to him, her gaze riveted on the man crouched behind them with his knife at Will’s neck. The man did not acknowledge Amelia’s presence; in fact, he looked bored. To her left Eleanor saw that Conlan and Merl were also awake, their expressions tight and guarded.

“Will, you were meant to be on watch,” Eleanor said in English, giving him an accusing glance and receiving a withering one in return.
 

“They came out of nowhere, like ghosts,” he replied, wincing as the blade at his neck bit deeper and drew a thin line of blood just visible in the shadows.

“Shut up,” ordered the man holding the weapon, his Dwarfish sounding odd and yet familiar. Eleanor’s mind tried to start a thought but it came to a stop as it hit the jumbled mess of corrupted memories. Angry at her uncooperative brain and at Will for letting the enemy get that close, Eleanor glared at the man.
 

“Why do you people always start with ‘Shut Up!’?” she asked, underlying the Dwarfish with a heavy layer of irritation. “We just met you; it would be far more polite if you introduced yourselves first! Is there some book on taking us prisoner I do not know about, which states you must first tell us to shut up? I am just wondering, because I would have thought you could have come up with something a little more original!” The man stared back at Eleanor with open-mouthed surprise, while several of the other men sniggered. A peeved look settled onto his face.
 

“How about, ‘Shut up or this man is going to lose a lot of blood’?” he drawled.
 

Without thinking, Eleanor answered the question. “Well, it is an improvement I suppose, but you still included the words ‘Shut Up’, so it’s not really good enough.” Eleanor saw the disbelief in his face change to anger.
I’m risking Will’s life.
It was a dangerous game she was playing, but for some reason she wanted to trust this man. She did not feel threatened or even afraid, but then again she was not the one with a knife at her throat. The blade had not moved any further on Will’s neck, so Eleanor decided to push her luck and trust her instinct about the man holding it. “My name is Eleanor, what is yours?”
 

“Nials,” the man said, the surprise now in his voice. Eleanor wondered if he was surprised at her or himself for actually replying.
 

Eleanor smiled. “I am pleased to meet you, Nials. The man you are threatening is my friend, Will. He is actually quite harmless.” Will flashed her an amused look. Eleanor ignored it and continued to focus on Nials. “You can take your knife from his throat,” she continued. “You outnumber us, so what threat could we be?”

“I have orders to follow,” Nials said.

“I am not a great believer of orders myself, unless I am issuing them, of course,” Eleanor said conversationally, wanting to keep the man talking; information was good and could save their lives. “What are your orders?” she added with another smile.

“We have to keep you here until Urerla arrives.” Again he sounded surprised, but this time Eleanor was fairly sure it was because he had answered her question.
 

Eleanor nodded. “I was wondering, would it hurt if you just asked us to stay put until Urerla gets here? I do not think threatening us is necessary, or do your orders state that you have to make us bleed? We have done nothing to threaten you, and frankly I am getting a little irritated with the general attitude of strike first, ask questions later. We are trying to help the people of Mydren and we just keep getting hit, stabbed and poisoned, I am starting to feel deeply unappreciated!” To Eleanor’s surprise, Nials removed his knife from Will’s throat and stood in a fluid, graceful movement.

“Thank you,” Eleanor said.
 

Nials stared at her for a moment. “You might not want to thank me just yet,” he replied with soft menace. “Perhaps I removed my knife from his throat so I could slit yours.” Eleanor waited for the fear to rise, but none came. She smiled at him.
 

“Perhaps you did, but if you wanted me dead it would be far quicker to get him to do it,” she reasoned, jerking her head back to indicate the man stood behind her, his sword drawn.
 

“Or maybe I would like the pleasure of taking your life myself,” he said. Eleanor rose slowly to her feet; nobody tried to stop her. Walking towards Nials, she stopped well within striking distance and clasped her hands behind her back, giving him as much of an open target as she could. An energy string pushed rudely into her head.

What are you doing?
Freddie demanded, his anger crashing against her. Eleanor ignored him, keeping her attention on Nials.

“Who is Urerla?” she asked.

“You are not afraid of me, are you?” Nials asked, sizing her up. Now she was closer, Eleanor noticed the small, raised, delicate pattern of scars that made a dotted line under his black eyes. She had seen scars like that before. The faces of the men Merl had killed jumped into her head. Will had got a pretty good look at them and Nials had the same black skin and the same ritual scaring under the eyes, although the pattern on one of the dead men had been far more complicated.