Once A Hero (57 page)

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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

BOOK: Once A Hero
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"I am honored."

"Then we are very happy." A silver-haired sylvanesti slipped into the room behind Berengar and nestled in beneath Aarundel's right arm. "I have waited a long time to see you again, Neal Elfward."

"Marta?" I bowed to her.

As I straightened up, she surprised me and stepped forward to hug me. I tried to hold her back, fearful of what would happen when we touched, but neither she nor Aarundel appeared to be the least bit concerned of the consequences of her action. She wrapped her arms around my chest and squeezed. "I have long wanted to do this to thank you for saving our lives in Jammaq."

When Aarundel smiled and nodded at me, I let my hands slip from her shoulders and around her back to enfold her in a hug. The scent of lilacs rose from her hair, and the long silver locks tickled against my chest. She felt so frail and light in my arms, yet I sensed a strength flowing through her. Afraid I might crush her, I held her as tightly as I dared, then I eased myself free of her arms.

She looked hurt for a moment, then her alabaster flesh flushed pink. "Forgive me, Neal, I know this must all be strange for you."

I nodded. "It is, a bit. I can recall times when I wanted to take Larissa into my arms and could not, even though I sought only to comfort her, not seduce her. And now, the idea that I can hold you without Aarundel fearing your loss or my death—and I'm thinking the former is more his fear than the latter—it is something I will have to become used to."

"Because of you, it is possible." Marta retreated into Aarundel's arms, but smiled at me nonetheless. "The law that prohibited our touching was foolish, and I hope it remains in its grave ten times as long as you did."

I smiled and looked down at my hands, still feeling her in my arms and pressed against my chest. "Though it is five hundred years late, I must thank you, Marta, for saving my life in Alatun."

"But I was not there."

I laughed aloud. "Not in form, but in spirit, to Takrakor's regret. The spell you put on the tooth fragment in the dagger you gave me told me that he waited for me in Alatun. There he managed to do some things to me that, well, put me in quite a state. He kept getting closer to strengthen his link to me, and it strengthened the one you created. Then I smashed the fragment of his tooth against the stone floor."

Marta's hand rose to her own jaw. "Oh, my."

"That, I'm thinking, is likely the tamest of language he had running through his brain." I shrugged, then worked my shoulders around to loosen them. "He was distracted and I cut him with Cleaveheart. I thought I had killed him, but the link with Wasp seems to be working still, which means Takrakor might yet be alive."

My right index finger again wanted to point off to the northeast, but I held it in check. "We need Wasp if we are to get Cleaveheart back and solve Berengar's problems."

Aarundel nodded. "Recovering the dagger and getting back to Aurium/Aurdon will take some planning. The sooner we are started, the sooner we will finish."

It was interesting to watch the changes that time had wrought in Aarundel. He had always been a capable leader and a meticulous planner, but he served as an adviser to me by his own choice when we fought together in the Steel Pack. In the years since Alatun he had grown into the sort of leader that his father and grandfather had been. From the start I knew he would not be accompanying me on the quest to get Cleaveheart back, but he would do everything he could to guarantee us success.

The first thing he did was order tailors, armorers, and swordsmiths to come and begin preparing me proper clothes and tools for our journey. I learned quickly that styles had changed in everything from boots and tunics to armor and swords. What I preferred, of course, was considered archaic, but I conceded to conventional wisdom in the area of fashion, though I did insist on a blade rather stouter than this rapier-thing Berengar seemed to favor. Aarundel had a sword made to my specifications, but also commissioned a rapier for me.

Once I had clothes enough for a short journey, Aarundel arranged for me to travel with him via the circus translatio to a spot roughly three hundred miles north of Cygestolia. Before we left, with me sitting on the back of Scurra, a multiply-great grandson of Blackstar, Aarundel and some astronomers had me point off toward where Wasp was located. They planted stakes in the ground parallel with my arm and on a map drew a line up and off the edge of the map that corresponded to the direction in which I pointed.

After we arrived at the circus grove to the north, Aarundel had me again point toward Wasp. I noted myself that I pointed more easterly than northeasterly this time, and that appeared to please Aarundel. He looked at the stars and made some notes, then we settled down, just the two of us, to rest up for three days before we headed back to Cygestolia.

In the darkness, with the two of us swaddled in blankets to keep the cold out, it felt as if we had never been apart. We remembered bits and pieces of battles as if they had happened only yesterday. A light snow started to fall, and it seemed to me as if we were back in the Hiris mountains, tricking the Reithrese into believing the Red Tiger's whole army had been trapped there.

He told me about how the whole battle at Alatun had run. My heart swelled with pride as he described the Steel Pack holding the gate to the city despite attackers inside and out. When the magickal components of the Reithrese army fell apart, the Elven host had overwhelmed them. Those that could retreat tried to do so in good order, then were crushed against the walls of the city they had sought to defend.

"Those of us who were wounded were taken away, but the rest of the army scoured the countryside and killed everyone and anyone they saw of Reithrese descent. We prepared mass graves and buried the lot of them. We destroyed their cities and sterilized their land with fire; then we salted the earth and erased any trace of their having existed—at least any trace within Reith itself. As a people the Reithrese are forgotten except among degenerates and the Haladina, who drill their teeth and set them with gems in remembrance of their former masters."

I nodded. "It sounds as if you did a thorough job."

Aarundel stared into the little fire we had blazing near our feet. "I would have been happier had a complete record been kept of the Reithrese, along with a list of the dead, but there were thousands and thousands of them. I don't know if cataloging them would have been possible. For example, I would have preferred to have found Takrakor's body. If he yet lives . . ."

I shrugged. "He was the serpent's head. When it was struck off, the body died. Now we will have to make doubly certain the head remains dead. Do you think, with him alive, if there were a corps of Reithrese survivors they would not have tried to avenge themselves upon Elves and Men before this?"

"That point has merit, and I am foolish enough to take comfort in it." He leaned back against an old log and began to tell me of his life since my demise. He proved a proud father and prouder grandfather, citing some of the adventures Niall, Gena, and her brother, Finnwick, had enjoyed. He told me of Gena's lover, Durriken, and his having recovered the insignii nuptialis from the vault of some collector.

"You have prospered in my absence, and of that I am proud, my friend."

"But it was your sacrifice that made it all possible." Aarundel's hand came up, forestalling any reply on my part; then he pointed off toward the east.

Excepting the crackle of the fire and my own heartbeat, I heard nothing for a moment or two. Then I caught the faint sounds of something approaching our campsite. I reached over to where the hilt of my sword lay, but refrained from drawing it as, in one huge leap, a hulking shadowed form landed at the edge of the firelight circle.

It poked its muzzle into the air and took a healthy sniff. "Neal Roclawzi, you are."

In size and shape it looked a lot like Shijef, but its coloration differed radically. Half its face, starting from the muzzle and taking in the left ear, was black. The other side started white at the muzzle, but became grey-blue around the eye and across the cheek and ear. The body fur tended toward black except for a grey V-blaze at its throat and white on its paws. There was no doubt it was a Dreel, but its presence so far from its normal range surprised me.

"I am Neal Roclawzi."

"Defeated Shijef in single combat you did?" It hunched down on its haunches and cocked its head at me. "Show me."

I opened my blanket cocoon and lifted my warm woolen tunic. The Dreel peered in closely at the bite scars Shijef had left on me. "I was much younger then, so if you seek the same sort of contest, I will decline,"

It shook its head, then raised its muzzle to the sky and let out a howl that chilled me more than the night air. "Stulklirn am I. Shijef-sired through Bactha, Sorria, Skactin, Borna, and Byoni. Of the seventh generation am I, and the first to be honored by your presence." The beast lowered his head until his chin touched the ground. "The bargain is and fulfillment am I. The same heart have we."

Stulklirn's words echoed those of his great, great, great, great grandfather, bringing remembrance to my brain and a smile to my face. "We have the same heart."

The Dreel's head came up and he howled happily. His bushy tail stirred up leaves behind him, it beat so against the ground. "What service would you have of me?"

"Sit, for the moment." I pointed to a spot a bit closer yet stili slightly downwind of us. "Does Shijef still live?"

"Lives in his children he does. Many kin, many lives." Stulklirn extended a paw toward the fire, then pulled it back and sniffed at it. "Waited, did we, for you. When you came, I was chosen."

"How did you know?"

The Dreel shrugged. "Knew, did I." His agate eyes sparkled with excitement. "Chosen was I because to you fast I could get. That Bactha's gift is."

I glanced over at Aarundel. "Dreelbands were small and not widely spread when I was alive. Are there more of them now?"

"I confess I do not know. With the spread of Mankind, I suspect many of their ranges have grown smaller, but I have heard little or nothing of the Dreel since the fall of the Reithrese."

"Hidden we have been, waiting. Shijef and Man-Neal allies. In service to the Dun Wolf are we. Protect denmen." The Dreel looked to me for some confirmation that what he was saying was true, so I nodded and smiled at him. "In Dreel-land, Shijef emperor. All Dreel him praise."

Aarundel shrugged. "When we return to Cygestolia, ask Genevera about the Dreel. She has a very good understanding of folklore—especially the legends that still are sung about you. I am certain she knows of the Dreel."

Stulklirn's ears pricked up. "To Cygestolia you go? Take you there I will."

He started to get up, but I restrained him with a hand. "We have the grove as soon as we are rested."

The Dreel shook his head. "Trees slow are. Stulklirn much faster with Bactha's gift is."

I glanced at Aarundel and decided from his raised eyebrow that we both had missed what Stulklirn believed he was making obvious. "Bactha's gift, it allows you to go between places?"

The Dreel thumped his chest with a paw. "Mastery of Roadfast, have I. Longstepper am I."

"Well then, Stulklirn Longstepper, tomorrow or the day after we will let you take us to Cygestolia."

"Until then?"

I shrugged. "Until then, we sleep and talk and wait."

"Waiting I have done." The Dreel opened his mouth in a canine leer. "Waiting with allies better is."

Over the next two days Aarundel had me point toward where I felt Wasp was, and the measurements he took always appeared to be roughly the same. He explained to me that he would draw the line indicated by my pointing on the same map as he had drawn the line for the first point. Where those two lines crossed would be the area in which we could find Wasp.

The Dreel took great interest in what Aarundel was doing, and from time to time I found them locked in conversations as deep as those that Lomthelgar and Shijef had shared. Even allowing for the fact that Shijef had been surly and hostile toward me, with good reason Stulklirn appeared to me to be smarter than his progenitor. He learned very quickly and patiently worked with our horses so they could get used to his scent.

As had Shijef before him, Stulklirn used the Dreel version of the circus translatio to take us back to Cygestolia. We arrived in the grove, and once again I noticed that we were not as tired as we had been when we used the grove to head out, Stulklirn immediately bounded off to explore the forests—he assured us that he would find us—while Aarundel and I rode back to Woodspire.

We found Berengar and Genevera in the central chamber of my suite. They both studied the map upon which the first line had been drawn. Aarundel added the line determined by the new measurements, and Berengar groaned as they intersected in the frozen wastes above Mannkito.

"That means we must take into account an expedition into the Rimefields." He squinted at the map. "Our journey will cover two thousand miles at the very least, with a tenth of that in the ice barrens."

I frowned. "People used to live there when I was alive."

"And they still do, at a bare subsistence level. By the time we make it there, it will be the dead of winter. We will be fighting storms, and there is no way we can carry enough provisions to last us there and back again." He glared at me as if it were my fault where Wasp ended up.

"At best we will be in Aurdon this time next year."

I tapped the map near the center of Irtysh. "If we started here, we'd be looking at five hundred miles or so. Provisions and travel will need to account for less than two months out and two back in the worst case."

Berengar folded his arms. "That would be correct, if we could start in Irtysh, but we are over here in Cygestolia. How do we get there?"

Aarundel smiled, so I didn't have to. "A Dreel with a most amazing ability has pledged himself to Neal's service.

"A Dreel?" The delight in Gena's voice brought the smile to my lips that I had denied Berengar. "A Dreel like Shijef?"

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