No One's Chosen (63 page)

"Ah!" Rianaire laid a hand on Inney's head. "This one
is Inney." Inney had been insistent that Rianaire use some other
name when introducing her, but the woman was too bold to care, it
seemed. "She is alive also."

Méid sighed and smiled lightly. "Of course, I trust
my own eyes well enough. But the talk is true? I found it hard to
believe as I'd heard it third hand from some trader. No marmar was
sent. And they say the Regent of Cnoclean is dead, though there
have been no letters from them either."

Rianaire's expression turned grim. She had expected
Aerach would face trouble at the least, but she did not expect
that. Spárálaí had known his father and it had been one of the few
appointments she had made that did not result in a lecture about
legacy and tradition. Síocháin put a hand on Rianaire's back and
the Treorai forced a smile. "It is of little matter. I am alive and
the flat truth of things is that Spárálaí has attempted a
coup."

The blacksmith woman looked confused. "He… why?"

"To his mind, I am a petulant child who is destroying
the glory of the north. He has seen me this way since I was a girl,
it is no new development. In truth, it is my own fault for assuming
him to be more spineless than he is."

"He would aim to kill a Treorai? Over a difference of
ideals?"

"I imagine he thinks more of his actions than that."
Rianaire shrugged. "It matters little now. I will retake the city
and see to removing his head or I will die in the attempt."

Méid frowned and furrowed her brow, trying to think
of something she could do to help. It was then that she noticed
they were all still in the street. "Oh my! I… please, you should
come in! I've kept you in the street. My mind is so—"

Rianaire held up a hand. "It is no bother. But we
will be off to the inn as quietly as we are able. It is good you
found us. We will need steel for at least a hundred. They are
marching here soon, possibly already."

"I see. I will collect what we have in excess and see
that the forges are fired."

Rianaire started to move down the road, but stopped.
"Oh! Yes. There is one other thing. The leader of the force I have
brought into my service is a satyr."

"Satyr?" Méid screeched the words loudly in raw
surprise. She put her hand over her mouth a second and then lowered
it to speak to Rianaire. "A satyr?"

"She is like to give you less trouble than her
followers. I would have her sent to my inn and housed there when
she arrives." Rianaire smiled politely.

Méid wrung her hands together. "Yes… I understand.
Okay." She nodded over and over, looking away at nothing in
particular.

Rianaire walked past the humble Regent, patting her
shoulder as she passed. "She is the only hippocamp among them. All
will be well."

As Rianaire moved away down the street, Méid rushed
into her home. There was a lot to be done and likely less than a
week to get it prepared. She hoped to move sooner than that if it
were at all possible. There was a single large road through the
town that split to the north and south at the inn Rianaire would be
keeping as her quarters.

On the walk along the way to the inn, a number of
elves ran past carrying writs. They ducked into the shops along the
high street and one ran to the end and entered the inn. He had not
exited when they made the door. Síocháin pulled it open and the
trio entered casually.

Inside the inn was a large dining room to the right
and to the left a lounge area with plush couches and chairs. Ahead
was a desk and the young courier stood there arguing.

"I will not have a hippocamp in my establishment. I
do not care if the Treorai herself hands down the order."

"Oh but I have."

The man looked around the courier and saw Rianaire
standing on the carpet leading to the desk. He stammered at the
sight of her.

"T-T-Treorai… I don't… you must understand."

"Must I? I understand that your inn is the finest in
town and with either play host to the Treorai and her honored
guests or will be closed and seized as property of the realm."

The man managed to bumble through a few other sounds
but he offered no proper reply. Rianaire approached the desk and
moved the messenger aside, nodding politely.

"There are three of us for a room, so I should like
something with a large bed."

The innkeep ceased attempting to complain and turned,
grabbing a key from the wall. "Third floor, left side of the
stair." His voice was defeated and he snatched the writ from the
courier after giving over the key.

Rianaire led her group up the stairs and found the
room. Inside it was plush and comfortable if minimal. The bed was a
magnificent thing in stark contrast to the room. It rivaled the
massive square of down and cherry wood she had in her own chambers
at the Bastion. Rianaire stripped as she hurried across the room
and leapt onto the brown coverings. The fabric was cool and soft
against her skin. It had been well made. The bed took up easily a
quarter of the room. There was a door along the wall to the left
and windows around the walls that showed the outside. Síocháin
moved to the door and opened it. There was a private bath in the
style of the baths from the west.

After a long moment on the bed, Rianaire stood and
turned to Inney. "Let me see you," she said.

The half-elf's face shifted to its milky grey and the
scar came into view. She let out a sigh as the mask dissipated.
Rianaire smiled and walked over to the girl. "All of you," she
said, pulling open the cloak. Inney's cheeks flushed a deep shade
of reddish-purple but she did not fight Rianaire's hands.

When Rianaire had stripped the mysterious girl naked,
she dragged her to the bath. Síocháin joined them. When the bathing
was done, Inney seemed to have calmed a bit at their presence. The
constant petting and kissing from Rianaire likely helped to
reassure her. Inney's voice was lower without the mask. Her moans
as well, Rianaire imagined. Before supper was prepared they made
full use of the bed. Inney was quiet and moved little, though
Síocháin and Rianaire took it in turns to see to her. When their
play had finished, Inney pressed her lips against Rianaire's and
whispered quiet appreciation into her ear. They dined afterward on
lamb from the river elf lands and a mash of peas and a passable
wine.

They made for bed early and Rianaire's wandering
hands found a pair of willing subjects. Sleep took them all not
long after and come the morning Rianaire rose before the rest. She
coursed a hand over Inney's cheek, rousing her. She had found her
way to Síocháin's arms sometime in the night and it warmed Rianaire
to see them. As Síocháin dressed her, Rianaire noticed that there
was a quiet murmur coming from the floors below. When the three
were prepared, Inney put her mask back into place and they
descended the stair.

The lobby was full to bursting with people, all
looking toward the dining area and jostling for position. Most
mumbled their confusion, though there were occasional angry screams
from the front, bidding the inn's visitor to leave lest some ill be
done.

Rianaire stopped a few steps from the landing and
cleared her throat. "I do beg pardon of all of you…" The words were
terrifically loud and everyone turned at once to see her. She
returned her voice to a normal level. "…but I should like to take
my meal."

Many of the faces showed confusion. Who was this
woman? Others placed her face immediately and bent the knee. Eyes
widened as understanding spread across the crowd and everyone fell
to a knee, the center of the crowd parting to make way for her.

Rianaire walked through the way that had been opened
for her and spoke in a reassuring voice. "There is no need to bow.
Though I fear the inn does not serve to those who are no guests, so
if you wish, I will gladly speak with each of you after I take my
meal."

Gadaí was waiting for her in the dining area next to
a dusty bottle of wine. She had taken a seat at one of the tables,
a hoofed leg crossed over the other. She wore the same weapons and
loose clothing as she had been in when Rianaire saw her last. The
Treorai approached the table and sat. When she did, the elves
gathered in the lobby began filing out to return to their lives.
Síocháin and Inney moved to take the remaining chairs around the
table.

Rianaire straightened her dress and spoke. "Did you
have much trouble?"

"No more than you saw," the rough, high voice
answered. "I culled more than I had hoped from my own numbers."

"Unfortunate. And not."

Gadaí nodded. "I told my plans plainly and offered a
choice to any who had raped. Be made a eunuch or be killed. More
guilty than I knew to be in my camps rallied to overthrow me."

Rianaire waved at the innkeep, bidding him come over.
The man was obedient. "We should like breakfast. For four. And this
one," she said pointing to Gadaí. "She will have the room across
from my own." The man nodded twice and went off to fetch them food.
Rianaire turned back to the satyr. "What is the final count?"

"Seventy three."

Less than she had hoped by a fourth. Rianaire frowned
at the news. She would have to rely on the people of the city more
than she wanted. Perhaps she could bolster her numbers from among
the townsfolk here, but there would likely be few enough of
them.

A different elf brought the meal. A slender girl with
blonde hair. She stared at Gadaí all the while until Rianaire
suggested she might ought to close her open mouth. The girl looked
to Rianaire as if it was the first time seeing her and then touched
her jaw. She blushed her embarrassment and scurried off with the
tray after a bow and an apology.

The meal was hearty, sausages and eggs and bread.
There were potatoes as well. If Gadaí was unaccustomed to the food
or the quality, she hid it well.

When the meal was finished, Rianaire leaned back in
her chair. "When will your group be prepared to leave?"

"I thought a week. But not so long. Perhaps tomorrow.
The people have been most insistent with their help." She took a
sip of wine straight from the bottle. "This is the power of a
Treorai, I think."

Rianaire nodded. "As close as I can manage, at any
rate." She pushed her chair back and stood. "Now, I will go see to
the curious rabble outside. Inney, see to Gadaí's
accommodations."

"As you say, Rianaire." Her voice was back to its
sickening sweetness. It lacked the edge and depth of the night
before. A shiver ran down Rianaire's spine at the thought of it
being a voice just for her.

Outside there was a small crowd gathered loosely
around the entrance of the inn. When Rianaire emerged, they turned
to her with expectant eyes.

"Good morrow." She smiled politely. "I do apologize
for any alarm Gadaí has caused. She has been a great help to me in
many things which I fair it would take me far too long to explain
adequately. She means you no harm and she belongs to no horde. The
mercenaries she has brought along mean to help me with a matter of
grave importance."

"What matter?" The voice was a man's somewhere in the
middle of a gathered pack of onlookers.

"A member of my Binse has attempted to have me killed
and has taken Spéirbaile from me."

The crowd gasped and a murmur rolled through. When
they had quieted she continued.

"He means to impose his will and ideals upon the
people of Spéirbaile and I do not intend to stand for it, even at
the cost of my life. I will not abide such a crime against you all.
For that reason I have seen it fit to call upon Gadaí and her
mercenaries." Rianaire bowed deeply at the people and spoke. "I
apologize if that does not satisfy. I ask that you trust in me if
you are able. I live in service to you all."

"Long live Rianaire." A shout rang from the back of
the crowd. Others joined in clapping and hooting. Others flooded
the streets at the sound and took up the cry themselves.

Rianaire stood and looked over the crowd. She smiled
and felt her eyes well. She had not known, truly, whether her
people would accept her. Here, at least, they did. She remembered
the man she left in the shed in Creid and the words he had said to
her. She threw her hands up and a hush fell over the crowd.

"I've decided," she declared loudly. "Tonight…
tonight we shall celebrate!"

The collective cheer of the crowd nearly deafened
her. The Treorai gave another bow and took herself back into the
inn. Síocháin was waiting inside for her. The look on her face was
a grave one. The lobby was empty but for the two of them.

"We will leave this place soon," Síocháin said
flatly. "Do not die." She leaned to Rianaire and kissed her lightly
on the lips.

"I do not intend to. Your concern is most welcome,
however." Rianaire allowed herself a small laugh. "I tell myself I
really ought to be more worried over things, but all I can manage
when I search my feelings is anger and bitterness."

Síocháin nodded and Rianaire pulled her close,
embracing her.

"Though, if I
do
fail, perhaps I will form a band of
noble raiders. I think I would look quite good with a
pipe."

The festivities that night spread well into the
morning of the next day and finally died sometime near what would
have been lunch. Shortly after taking a meal, Rianaire met with
Gadaí and informed her they would leave the next day if everything
was seen to. Gadaí gave assurances that they would be ready in
time.

That night Rianaire dined with Méid. The Regent
presented her with a dress of heavy silk that was lined with plate
and had forged accents around the bodice that doubled as a
secondary layer of protection. It was a beautiful light blue silk,
the color of the sky, with deep grey metal. Rianaire was so pleased
with it she kissed Méid then and there. The poor woman did not know
what to do and so bowed and thanked her several times.