Greendaughter (Book 6) (16 page)

“I am Valann of Wilding,” Val said. “I make known to you Chyrie of Wilding, my mate, and Sharl and Rivkah, the Eldest of the Allanmeres. On their behalf I ask you to share our food and fire, and be made welcome among us.”

“We are honored to share your food and fire,” Arrin said a little dubiously, glancing at the humans crowded around. “May joy and friendship be our contribution.” Then she added, “We have brought food and wine for our keep, and gifts for the Eldest of the Allanmeres.”

“Your friendship is the greatest gift you can bring us,” Rivkah said graciously. “My lord and I have dreamed of the day that our two peoples could stand together on these streets.”

“I must apologize for my ill-mannered citizens,” Sharl said, glaring at the guards. “They seem to have forgotten how to treat guests to our city.” He added in the human tongue, “Some of you come over here and help, or do you think it speaks well for our city to let women and children load their goods into a wagon unassisted while healthy men stand gaping by?”

Several of the guards sheepishly put down their weapons and obeyed, a few even unbending so far as to lift children into the wagons.

“Rooms have been prepared for you at the keep,” Sharl told the elves when they were settled in the wagons. “Val and Chyrie tell me that you are accustomed to sharing living space. If anything is not to your liking, you have only to tell us.”

“Has a Gifted One come before us?” Arrin asked worriedly. “Some of us are near our time of birth.”

“Dusk has told us that Dawn’s Edge is sending their Gifted One,” Chyrie said.

“Dawn’s Edge!” Arrin exclaimed. “It will take many, many days to travel from there, perhaps as much as half a moon, and we have not even a healer among us.”

“My mate is a healer,” Chyrie told her. “And there are humans with healing magic.”

Arrin glanced at Sharl and Rivkah doubtfully, but said nothing more.

“We should ride with the others,” Val said as Sharl turned back to the carriage.

“No,” Sharl said. “I need to speak with you both.”

Reluctantly they climbed back into the carriage. It took some maneuvering to turn the carriage and the wagons around in the crowd, but it was finally accomplished, and thankfully not too many of the people tried to follow the wagons back to the keep.

“Why did you interrupt me?” Sharl demanded. “It was my
place to greet them, not yours.”

“You did not know the proper words,” Valann apologized. “The welcome of food and fire you heard Dusk speak was—was not appropriate for the welcome of guests. Greetings are important to us, and doubly so, I think, when meeting out-kin. A careless word might have caused great harm.”

“I see.” Sharl frowned. “I’d gotten the impression your people didn’t stand much on ritual.”

“We do not,” Valann said. “But what—rituals—we have, they are honored among us.”

“Are there any other customs we should know?” Rivkah asked anxiously.

“It would be a kindly gesture to share food with the elders when they arrive,” Valann suggested. “The ones who bead their hair. Arrin is one such. And you must accept the gifts they bring. It would be an insult to refuse them.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving gifts?” Sharl asked. “Among my people, it’s usually the host who gives, not the guest.”

“You must not,” Chyrie cautioned him. “Gifts are for the showing of respect. As they have come to you for sanctuary, it is their place to honor you, acknowledging your leadership in your own lands. To give them gifts would be a sign of weakness, an attempt to buy their favor.”

“I see.” Sharl turned to Valann. “Thank you, then. It seems that when I deal with elves, it might be best to have the two of you present, to keep me from making any other mistakes.”

“We will speak to them tonight,” Valann said. “They must make allowances, too, in your place.” He grinned. “And you and Rivkah must have peace in which to celebrate your mating.”

“Too late,” Sharl said wryly. “I think the mood is lost.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Rivkah laughed, leaning over to nibble at his ear. “I’m a very resourceful person. I’m sure I can think of something.”

Over the next seven days, groups of elves arrived almost every day. At first Sharl tried to place each clan in separate rooms, but he quickly found that his caution was unnecessary; squabbles between even enemy clans seemed to cause no hostility at all when both clans were on equally unfamiliar territory. He also found that beds, or even cots, were unnecessary. Some clans brought sling beds, which could be hung from two hooks on the walls, but most, like Val and Chyrie, preferred to simply pile furs on the floor. The only problem, it would seem, were the children.

The infants and toddlers were no bother at all. Schooled from birth in the necessity of quiet unobtrusiveness, they rarely cried, even when hungry or injured, and tending them seemed to be a communal affair; whenever an infant needed attention, the closest elf, even if from another clan, cared for it.

The older children, however, were another matter. Accustomed to running the forest in small packs, mostly doing exactly as they pleased, the elven children made themselves at home in the keep, and, gradually, in the city, running the halls, wall tops, and streets, hiding in corners and bursting out to startle the unwary, and poking their noses into whatever interested them. At first it was a nuisance, as nothing short of a locked door could keep them out of a room or an area, but gradually Sharl realized that the children were accomplishing what no amount of speeches or examples on his part could. The citizens might shout and complain when shrieking packs of younglings dashed through their shops or homes, but it was good-natured complaining, for a child was a child, human or elf, and even the surliest citizen saw little harm in them. It was not long before human children began to show up in these elven child-packs, and soon the two groups were inseparable, causing twice as much havoc as they would have apart.

The adult elves proved more aloof, keeping to their quarters or the keep’s gardens for the most part—understandably, since the majority of them were heavily pregnant, ill, or extremely old. Loren immediately installed himself among these elves, appointing himself their entertainer whether they wanted him or not. He could usually be found in their quarters or with them in the gardens, casting small magicks to amuse them, goading the irritated Weeka to do tricks, and chattering away at a furious pace, never minding that most of the elves could understand little or none of what he said. His friendly eagerness, however, was impossible to resist, and a few of the elves began coming to Val and Chyrie shyly, almost ashamedly, to learn a few words of the human tongue. Loren’s own command of Olvenic, however, quickly improved.

Val and Chyrie soon found that the arrival of the elves meant the end of their free time. When they were not serving as interpreters between the elves and the keep’s servants or assisting Sharl and Rivkah in dealing with their guests, Chyrie was sending or receiving messages from Dusk, and Valann daily exhausted his healing, circulating among the infirm elves until a Gifted One could arrive.

Several wagons laden with trade goods and foodstuffs arrived in the middle of the week, to Sharl’s and Rivkah’s relief, and to the delight of the elves. There were five wagons filled with crates of swords, daggers, metal spears and arrowheads, axes, and even shields and chain armor in varying sizes to accommodate the slightest or the tallest clans. Chyrie relayed this news to Dusk, who promised that if guards could convey the wagons to the edge of Brightwater lands, elves would come to collect the goods and distribute them throughout the allied clans.

Mercenary groups, both warriors and mages, had also begun to arrive. The building of the fortifications speeded dramatically with the additional labor, but the number of troops arriving also meant building additional barracks and rooming houses. Another priority was introducing all new arrivals to the growing number of elves in Allanmere, and instructing them on their expected behavior when dealing with the elves.

Lua, one of the Southwinds, was the first of the visiting elves to bear her child, a healthy daughter. Fortunately it was not a difficult birth, since no Gifted One had yet reached them and the elves were reluctant to be attended by human mages or midwives. Sharl, in a rare burst of insight, held a great feast in the main hall to celebrate the first elf born in Allanmere, and Rivkah and Loren entertained them with dazzling illusions. Lua, proud of her baby and not a little awed by the elaborate occasion, named her daughter Shara.

The next day, on Rivkah’s urging, Sharl had messengers proclaim throughout the city that the first elven child had been born in the city, and that in celebration, every citizen of the city would receive a one-in-twelve reduction of taxes for that year. Sharl had agreed reluctantly, arguing that with the upcoming war he would need all the revenues he could get, but he was gratified, in the end, by the warmth this gesture generated between the elves and the humans.

Meanwhile, however, Valann worried. Even in the week since they had arrived in Allanmere, it was becoming apparent that the many demands on Chyrie’s time, and the equally heavy demands of her unborn children on her body, were wearing harshly on her. She ate prodigiously, but her cheeks grew more hollow and her eyes were shadowed deeply, and despite her weariness, she slept badly or not at all.

“Sometimes she vomits in the mornings when she wakes,” Valann confided to Rivkah. “It frightens me.”

“You worry too much,” Rivkah chided. “I vomit in the mornings, too. It’s not uncommon.”

“In thirty-one decades,” Valann grumbled, “I have never known a healthy female to vomit in the mornings, whether or not she was with child. I pray a Gifted One will soon come. I have the healing power, but not the knowledge and experience of a Gifted One.”

Another seven days passed, however, before Jeena, the Dawn’s Edges’ Gifted One, arrived with a group of nearly fifty elves. Jeena had brought another Gifted One, however, from North Ridge, and there were two other healers in the group as well.

“It is a pity I could not find another beast-speaker to ease your burden,” Jeena said when she had examined Chyrie. “Unfortunately that gift is most often held only by very powerful Gifted Ones, and they cannot be spared by their clans. I do not agree with Rowan and Dusk that you should be here. I think you should return to the forest immediately.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Sharl protested.

“The Gifted One of the Wildings is not more skilled than you,” Val argued.

“No. You should not return to Wilding,” Jeena said, shaking her head. “There was another attack against the northeastern
edge of the forest, a stronger attack. They did not engage Wilding, but it cannot be long, and you must not be endangered. I think you should return to Inner Heart, where there are now several Gifted Ones to tend you. You would be safe there as long as there is still one elf in the forest able to raise sword to defend you.”

“She was nearly killed coming here,” Rivkah protested. “Surely the trip back would be very hard on her, if not actually dangerous.”

“I cannot go back to Inner Heart,” Chyrie said. “As you say, there is no other beast-speaker to take my place here, and we cannot send and receive tidings from the forest without a beast-speaker.”

“Yours is no ordinary pregnancy,” Jeena said sternly. “That you carry two instead of one, that they have been so unnaturally speeded, that your health is affected, Chyrie—these things concern me deeply. Your children are drawing too heavily upon you.”

“What could Dusk and the other Gifted Ones do for me that cannot be done here?” Chyrie asked practically.

Jeena shrugged.

“I only feel that you would be healthier among your own. But it is your life, and your unborn children, and if you are bound to stay, I will do what I can for you. There are potions that will help. Valann, come here, and I will show you a thing.”

Val obeyed, and Jeena laid her hand on Chyrie’s belly, placing Val’s hand over her own.

“Feel what I am doing,” Jeena said. “If I allow but a little healing energy to flow, her children drink it like a thirsty deer drinks water. I do not know whether it is because they are two, or because of the magic used upon them so soon after their conception, but they are drawing the very life from Chyrie. I will show you how to replace it.”

Jeena cupped one hand behind the back of Chyrie’s head and the other over her heart; at her direction, Val again placed his hands over hers.

“Ordinarily I give life through the navel, the seat of life,” Jeena said. “But I believe that would speed the growth of her children. Focus your energy at these two points whenever she wearies unduly. She must sleep, if we have to potion her to do it, and she must eat much red meat, as Dusk told her. Air and exercise will benefit her, but she must not become overtired. I will check her daily.”

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Rivkah said, awed. “Our mages have been studying how to combine power, transfer power to each other, for years, and you do it as matter-of-factly as breathing.”

“Believe me,” Jeena said wryly, “it is hardly that easy, and it takes a Gifted One many decades to learn.”

“How long will it be until I bear?” Chyrie asked in a small voice. Jeena was obviously highly skilled, and her concern worried Chyrie in turn.

“Perhaps three moons, or even sooner,” Jeena said. “Surely no longer than four. I cannot be certain because the presence of two lives confuses me. Their sparks of life are very strong indeed, like those with strong gifts.” She smiled. “You may be the first elf in the long history of the Heartwood, Chyrie, to give two Gifted Ones to your clan.”

“I will be more than content to give two healthy children to my clan,” Chyrie said wryly.

“Can you tell if her children are male or female?” Sharl asked Jeena curiously.

Jeena raised her eyebrows.

“One is male, one female,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought they would like to know.” Sharl shrugged. “Most human parents would.”

“It is not important to us,” Chyrie said surprisedly. “I had never thought to ask.” She turned to Rivkah. “Is it a concern to you? Perhaps Jeena could tell you the sex of your child, if you wish it.”