The Coming Storm (18 page)

Still, Geric had wanted to be convinced and he had been by the speech Elon had given that day and their brief conversation afterwards.

So impressed was he that he’d followed Elon of Aerilann’s career closely, as much as he could so far from the heartland.

“I remember that meeting well, my lord King Geric,” the Elf said.

He had a very nice voice, deep and modulated. An orator’s voice.

“No standing on titles and such here. Geric will do.”

Elon of Aerilann inclined his head gravely.

“Have a seat,” Geric continued, gesturing.

“After so long in the saddle,” Jareth said, apologetically, “would you mind if we stood?”

“No, no, of course not.” Geric said. He was being more than a shade too hearty. “I do have to apologize that my ladies aren’t here to meet you. Unfortunately, they were called away. There’s a pestilence of some kind in one of the easternmost villages and they went to give aid. So, what can I do for you?”

For those who knew her father that was a wrong note. Never my ladies, making little of them. My Lady Wife, always, and for Ailith, my daughter and Heir. He’d been proud of her and told others often of her skills in many things, not the least of them her swordsmanship. He’d embarrassed Ailith frequently with such praise. Now she missed it and regretted the discomfort.

The wizard Jareth picked up a glass of wine, sniffed lightly and took a sip. “Nice vintage.”

“We’ve a winery not far, they have a very nice red wine. A little sweet.”

Elon said, in answer to the original question. “We were wondering if you’ve had problems along the borderlands.”

“Were you now?” Geric said.

He glanced quickly at Tolan and something passed between them. Another slip, although none would know it. Her father had looked to no one.

“As it happens, we have. My Hunters have been complaining. Had an ogre not too long ago. It’s a pity you arrived when you have, you just missed them. They’re all up in the hills now. They left two days ago.”

Which was true. They’d been back only a day for a badly needed rest. In fact, Gwillim had left Smoke here, taking a remount.

Even Elven culls needed a break and Smoke had taken a blow from a boggin which left him limping. Ailith had taken the horse some carrots to console him in Gwillim’s absence. And herself. Usually, there was one group resting, one group going out and one coming back. Both horses and men given time to rest. Not these days. With so many incursions, Gwillim had everyone riding the fringes of the borderlands, trying to keep the invaders from getting so far it took days to chase them back. He’d also been up to her father to request more men again, with no more success than before.

“I’ve given them some extra men,” Geric was saying, “and conscripted some from the villages. We’re stretching the treasury a bit but it has to be done.”

Why does the lie surprise me
? She didn’t know.

“If I may be so bold,” Tolan asked, subserviently, “Why do you ask?”

His eyes glittered sharply.

Elon of Aerilann looked at the man briefly, his tone noncommittal. “We’ve heard stories, here and there and wanted to know if you had the same problem.”

The ambiguous tone didn’t fool her, he was on the Council, this Elon. He wouldn’t be on this errand if it weren’t serious.

She looked at Elon of Aerilann’s eyes, seeing in them as you couldn’t see from his impassive Elven expression that he wasn’t telling all he knew. There was more going on here than she knew. That put a different light on things.

So, it was happening elsewhere. Other Kingdoms were having problems as well. It wasn’t only their Hunters and Woodsmen being so pressed. With her father so changed and Tolan always creeping about, Ailith had heard little news.

A look passed between her father and Tolan.
They knew something Elon didn’t
.

“Ah,” Tolan said and bowed to step back a little once again.

That sing-song voice was in abeyance, as was the repetition. He was simply being a bland, nondescript man again, not the one who had urged her father to kill her mother. No one could see it, nor would he show it. If Ailith could have wept then in frustration, she would have.

Three Elves and a wizard. Tolan wouldn’t wish to tangle with them. Still, she didn’t know if they could be of any help. For one, the Guard outnumbered them by a great deal. Although they might hesitate at killing Elves. Elves didn’t tolerate someone killing one of their own.

For another reason and far more importantly, what could she say that wouldn’t sound mad?  That her father had killed her mother? What proof did she have? She could step out from here and declare herself, prove Tolan and her father liars but to what end? Who would be more surprised and who more at a disadvantage? She was like to get the visitors killed.

A dozen wild plans went through her head as her father and Tolan lied and spun tales to the visitors.

If they guested them, there might be a chance for her to speak with one of them in private. But what would she tell them? A dream? Where was the proof?

To her astonishment, though, Geric didn’t offer them hospitality. It stunned her. That was unconscionably rude, inhospitable and a violation of all of society’s rules of courtesy but the Elven party couldn’t request it either. It could only be offered. Geric was King here. None could question his rule in his lands. He decided who he would guest and who he wouldn’t.

In the end, she did nothing but listen as they left and her chance at escape slipped away.

There was a long pause and then Caradoc returned from escorting the party out.

“My Lord, they’ve turned east and north.”

He addressed Tolan, not her father.

A furious look passed over Tolan’s face, that murderous rage she’d glimpsed once before. It chilled her now as it had chilled her then.

“At what speed? Why could they not have gone back the way they came?”

“Not fast, my Lord, at a walk.”

“No hurry, then, no rush. So, nothing seems to have alarmed them unduly.” Tolan glanced at the simulacrum that was her father. “Tell me about these folk.”

“Elon is a powerful Elf – well-known and respected. One of the Council and Advisor to Daran High King.”

His voice now was a monotone, when he spoke it was as if by rote.

“Is he now,” Tolan said. “Is he now? Well. Well. Tell me more.”

How could Tolan not have known that? Where had he been?

“Aerilann was one of the major influences behind the Alliance. It was he who managed to convince the Dwarves to agree, despite the differences between those two races. Daran, the High King, was the driving force but Elon of Aerilann was the glue that held it together. If Daran needs something negotiated he summons Elon. Elon is also First among equals in his Enclave, no little thing among those folk. He’s the voice of reason among the Elves, balancing those who still feel that commerce and association with the race of Men is undignified, beneath them and encourages the lesser race to believe they’re equals. He has a reputation for integrity that has rarely been questioned. Geric was much impressed with him.”

Pacing slowly, Tolan considered. “If he continues east, he’ll either find that no villages have pestilence or run into our Hunters. Gwillim isn’t one of us yet. I’d hoped to get him this last time and have him lead those of his men who won’t follow us into a trap but I couldn’t catch him alone.”

“They are only three Elves and a wizard,” her father pointed out, “asking about problems along the borderlands and heading east, into the highlands.”

The creature that was her father was beginning to think for himself.

“So they are, so they are,” Tolan said. “A point. If the illustrious Elf Elon of Aerilann were to fall to some of the more notorious creatures of which he asks then it would be more than a tragedy. Would it not?”

Her father nodded. “The Alliance would crack. Daran is a visionary and in his own way an able High King of men but he is impatient and immoderate. That’s not a good combination in regards to relations with the Elves or Dwarves. He’s a political creature without the skills to implement his plans. He likes to scheme too much. Without the help of someone like Elon, he was as like to fail as succeed. Little as Daran likes to admit it.”

That earned Geric a very pointed stare from Tolan. “Does our good High King somewhat resent Elon?”

“He does at times even as he respects his opinion and admires him.”

“So,” Tolan said, “if Elon of Aerilann falls we rid ourselves of exposure and damage the Alliance as well. That would be a good day’s work, my friends. A good day’s work, indeed.”

“Elves and wizards,” Caradoc said, “are powerful. They won’t be easy to take. What would you have me do?”

“You?” Tolan asked. “You. Nothing. Truly nothing. They may be powerful and the Elves long lived but they do bleed, they do die. They are mortal and can be wounded or even killed. The wizard, too, for all his magic. I’m afraid Elon, his Elves and his wizard friend are going to find out how mortal they are and how many of the creatures of the borderlands have slipped across the borders unnoticed. There’s no village close enough for them to reach before nightfall in the direction they’re going. They’ll camp for the night. They’re few. They may post watches but there will be only one or two. For all their vaunted abilities, even Elves and wizards can fall if the numbers are great enough. If they call for aid, Caradoc, don’t send it. Otherwise, do nothing. We need them far enough away that no blame falls on us. If it falls on the Hunters, all the better. They won’t have a full night’s sleep, unfortunately, but they will sleep eventually and for always. A pity for Daran, to lose a Councilor and Advisor so necessary to his success.”

He nodded slowly.

“A pity, indeed. Caradoc, we have no more need of you at the moment, you can return to your duties. Geric, tell me more about Daran.”

Ailith’s heart pounded. Moving very carefully, she slipped out of the library, using the noise Caradoc made as he left to cover the small sounds she made. As soon as the outer doors closed she ran lightly up the stairs to her rooms.

It was an effort to remain calm. They had to be warned. A plan formed in her mind but she would need to settle herself first. Dorovan’s exercises stood her in good stead once again and she mentally thanked him yet again for teaching her. Would they call her down to dinner? Or would Tolan forget in his plotting and planning? That which was Geric, once her father, would neither care nor notice. It remained only for her to wait and see.

Time passed too slowly. She prayed that after so many days in the saddle, as the wizard had said, that they wouldn’t wish to press too hard. She hoped they would stay at a walk.

The castle of Riverford had fallen behind them and was now hidden behind a rise in the land. Around them, the country itself was quite beautiful, not unlike the hills that surrounded Aerilann, rising upward toward the eastern foothills, blooming lush and green. Horses grazed on a distant hill, while white sheep drifted across another like low hanging clouds. There was the sweet perfume of growing things but few people to be seen on the roads.

“Well,” Jareth said, “that was awkward.”

Elon nodded. “It was.”

“Not even an excuse, a polite fiction. They simply didn’t acknowledge it. Not even a bow to custom or even the barest hospitality. Some wine and water, that’s all.” Jareth shook his head, bewildered. “Not quite insulting but almost. Yet, he seemed to have no objection to us. Not like old Queen Marta, who likes neither Elves nor wizards but remains civil about it. She doesn’t disguise her dislike but at least she maintains the forms and courtesies.”

Surprisingly, Jalila spoke up. “At least she was honest in her aversion, there is some honor in not disguising it. Perhaps there’s something I missed but did it feel to any of you as if something wasn’t quite right in that place?”

Taking a deep breath, Elon nodded. “I doubted I was alone in it but I wanted one of you to confirm it.”

He’d wanted to verify his impression without tainting theirs.

From the moment he’d ridden through the gates and beneath the portcullis, he’d sensed something. It was something about the way some guards would look at him almost hopefully and others wouldn’t look at him at all. The folk there had seemed strangely uneasy.

“It seemed uncommon from some of the other places we have visited. A tension I couldn’t name. Even in Mountainhold, with Queen Marta, her people didn’t seem as… unhappy. ”

Colath added, “Some folks seemed oddly wary and anxious. The stablegirl who took my horse seemed frightened although I could find no reason why. I thought it might be she was one of those raised to dislike our people but she met my eyes without flinching.”

“That whole meeting was odd,” Jareth said, on reflection. “As pleasant as they were, it seemed as if currents ran beneath the surface that I couldn’t see. Perhaps it’s simply the concern everyone has in the highlands these days. Geric may not want to admit his people are overwhelmed.”

“Perhaps,” Elon allowed. “Still, there was something there that was different. Did anyone else sense eyes watching? Not threateningly but watching.”

Slowly, Jareth nodded. “Yes, it was odd, I could put no name or place to it.”

“Nor I,” Colath said. “As Elon said, I felt no threat, though, so I put it aside.”

Thoughtfully, Jalila added, “For all his heartiness, there’s something about King Geric that seems at odds.”

“There was that as well,” Elon said. “I expected a warmer greeting. The man I met some time ago would have given it. He seemed too jovial, even so. Times change and men with them. I’d hoped we might spend the night, though. We’ve been on the road a long time and the horses could have used time in a stable under proper care.”

He glanced at Jareth.

“So could we.”

Jareth grinned. “I was about to add that. I was looking forward to a night in a real bed, without stones in uncomfortable places.”

“I did warn you, Jareth,” Jalila said with a shake of her head.

“I’ll listen next time.”

The horses moved at a steady walk. Elon considered it best to leave it that way. There was no need to push as yet and he was loath to do so without need. Marta of Mountainhold had at least offered a place to rest but the folk in the town had been less chary. They’d stopped in other Kingdoms and had been hosted at the last.

It had been a few weeks of riding since then, though, with one close call in between. A young orc had come out of nowhere and charged them. Orcs could be quick and lethal. It had been a short battle but intense. It would be safer down here near settled lands but once in the high country? It would be foolish to push the horses to a greater pace when they might have need of that strength later.

“Sadly,” Elon said, “it seems we’ll be sleeping in the open again tonight.”

With a sigh of resignation, Jareth said, “I thought as much.”

Jalila offered some consolation, “We’ll try to find you a place with fewer rocks, Jareth.”

He gave her a look then waved around him in disgust. “In these hills? There’s nothing
but
rocks.”

There had been no summons to dinner, for which she was grateful. Ailith didn’t miss it, in truth. Another silent meal with Tolan staring at her didn’t make her any hungrier. Her stomach was in such knots she feared if she’d eaten it wouldn’t stay long and if she didn’t eat, they would know something was wrong. It was a relief not to have to worry about it.

Light faded from the sky, brilliant color washed across the few clouds.

This would be her best chance to slip out of the castle. The guard would change soon, with everyone occupied exchanging of pleasantries, she might have a chance to get by unseen. The light was uncertain, dim. It was getting hard to see and it would be getting harder. If she could move quickly and quietly enough, they might not notice her escape.

Stealing down the back stairs, she found the kitchens nearly empty but for the baker preparing the breads for the morning. He was intent on kneading the pile of dough on the table, punching it down so when he returned in the early dawn it would have risen again and be ready to bake. Other loaves awaited his attention. The fire was banked, so the light was low here, too. On light feet she darted across and slid out the kitchen door. To stand for a moment in the shadow of the wall and let her eyes adjust to the shift in light.

Most of the folk of the castle were done for the day and had retired to their quarters or their homes in the village. The guards on the wall looked outward, not inward, walking along, talking softly in low voices and waiting for their relief to arrive.

Her heart pounded madly. Keeping her short sword pressed tightly against her side so it wouldn’t clatter against the stone and betray her, staying close in the shadow of the wall, she quickly covered the short distance to the base of the stairs that led up to the parapets and the narrow door concealed beneath them. Quickly, quietly, she eased the door open and slid through.

This side of the castle was entirely in shadow now, encased in the settling darkness. She could see very well in the dark but the contrast in brightness from the fading brilliance of the sky above to the shadows below rendered the light uncertain. There was so little time, though, she didn’t dare go slowly although she couldn’t see the end.

A breath of unblocked breeze, a slightly brighter space, or the paleness of the rope, whatever it was, something warned her just shy of stepping out into nothingness. A chill slid down her spine at the close call but she had no time to give to it, dropping the rope over the side and shimmying down, dropping lightly to her feet at the end. Looking up, she could see no sign of notice nor hear the sound of alarm.

Rarely did a guard look down this way. To reach here one must either cross the river at one of its most dangerous points or come around beneath their eyes. The walls of the castle blocked another side and the Hunters and Woodsmen’s camp another. She hoped that would continue as she started across the little field that served as paddock and pasture for the Hunter’s horses. Darker and larger shadows. As usual, one or two followed her.

Only one nibbled at her hair.

Smoke.

She stroked his nose and he sighed the way horses do.

Now for the part of which she couldn’t be certain. Giving him a pat, she leaned in by his ear as he lowered her head so she could rub between his eyes.

“Will you carry me, Smoke?”

There was no answer but she hadn’t expected one really, she thought with a wry grin at the fancy. No saddle and no bridle but then most Elven horses were bred not to need them. Gwillim had told her that. The hardest part would be getting up there. Smoke was huge, much larger than the horses she was used to riding.

“Forgive me,” she said, and clutched tightly at a handful of mane near his shoulders and vaulted up, scrambling at the last to get her leg over far enough that she didn’t fall back down.

Surprisingly, he took this abuse without complaint, his skin twitching a little at her weight. With a shift of that weight, she urged him forward and nearly fainted with relief when he obeyed.

Once more she glanced up at the castle. The guards were black shadows against the last of the light. The evening star appeared to be perched above the top of the castle. The shadows of the guards moved, one passing the other. The changing of the guard. Other shadows, clouds passing across the moon, moved too. With luck, all they would see was Smoke being his usual self and escaping again. She would merely be part of the odd patterns of his coloring.

Even if they did spot her, she was dressed in her usual working clothes, there was always the chance they would think she was a Hunter riding out, although everyone knew from Gwillim’s complaints that every single body he could raise was out in the field. All she could hope is that if she was spotted, no one would bring it to Caradoc’s attention. He would surely know all the Hunters were out.

Ailith urged Smoke faster, her hands wrapped in his mane, her knees tight against his back. It was a small hop for him to clear the picket line and trot lightly across the field, slowly picking up speed. If there was no outcry, she was clear. She kept waiting for it, that moment when her heart would leap into her throat but it didn’t come. Then they were over the ridge and out of direct sight of those on the parapets. She dared breathe again.

If Elon and his party had turned east, they hadn’t taken the road. She needed to find their trail while there was light enough to see. If not for the brilliance of the sky earlier, it wouldn’t have been so difficult to get down the stairs. She had very good night vision and the moon would be bright enough to light her way.

There. The last of the light pooled shadows in the indentations of hoof-prints. Leaning almost to the point of falling off, she was fairly sure there were four different sets. It was unlikely anyone else had taken this way. Travelers and traders kept to the road.

The trail kept straight as far as she could tell. In her mind she had a sense of Elon of Aerilann, of where he would be likely to go. This seemed the most likely track.

She’d have to chance it. Putting Smoke’s nose along the center of the trail, she urged him to speed and set heels to his ribs.

At the gesture his head came up and his ears pricked, he tossed his head a little and then she felt his muscles bunch. She clenched her hands in his mane just in time, as he launched himself forward.

Rarely would he have been permitted to run like this. He didn’t spurn the opportunity.

Ailith clung to his back, astonished at the speed with which he traveled. She knew Elven-bred were fast but she’d never ridden one before this. She was grateful for it, though. She would need it. There were hours to make up and little time in which to do it.

All of Gwillim’s tales came back to her, his worries and concerns. There were things loose in the night in the high country. The creatures from the borderlands. She remembered the trolls. Vaguely man-like, with hunched backs, peculiarly jointed legs and warty faces. They had ridden odd creatures Gwillim had called hellhounds which vaguely resembled dogs the size of small ponies and ran in bounds. She’d killed one when it had leaped at her. She’d hunted boggins and boggarts, too, and killed more than a few. Not alone, though, never alone. Tolan had hinted it would be creatures such as those which would attack tonight. She knew how to fight them and she would do it alone if she had to. The travelers had to be warned, she simply couldn’t let them die out here.

She held fear in abeyance by sheer will, turning her thoughts away from her fears. It was enough to be moving at this pace, trusting Smoke not to lose his footing or step in a badger hole.

As the moon came up she thought she’d lost the trail, her heart pounding as she scanned the ground ahead of Smoke’s hooves. There was that light in her mind, though, one that said, here. Once she’d found a small child that way. She would trust it for that. It was all she had.

Then she saw a glimmer of flame through trees on a far hill. She knew this place, knew it well. It was a good place to camp, with trees for shelter from weather and wind. Not tonight though. She turned Smoke’s head to that distant flicker of fire and urged him faster.

Elon looked up at the sound of hoof beats, Colath and Jalila only seconds behind him, with Jareth startling as well. All of them got swiftly to their feet.