No One's Chosen (26 page)

Rianaire squinted to see what could be done, if
anything. Was Grod still alive? Had he seen them and fled? No, he
would never have done that. And he would not fall so quickly. The
raiders outnumbered her own guard three to one with just the
numbers she could see. She scanned the field, the raiders accepted
no yield. She turned her eyes to the carriage as a round of arrows
stuck into it and she saw him through a crack in the tents. It was
Grod. He was still standing but feathered with arrows. At least
four stuck out from his chest and legs. His face was red, she could
see, but she could not make him out clearly. Behind the safety of
the carriage he looked to the tree line. He was looking for her.
Against her own better judgment and with Síocháin tugging at her
dress, she stood. She stood and she stared at the captain of her
guard. His eyes found her. He smiled, she could just see it. He
smiled and shook his head sadly. He blew her a kiss and looked to
the ground. Grod inhaled deep and let out a monstrous scream that
Rianaire could not imagine had come from him. He pulled up his
sword, wheeled around the corner of the carriage, and ran hard for
a waiting line of raiders.

Síocháin stood and pulled her arm. Rianaire turned
with her and ran hard for the depths of the wood. They ran as
quickly as they could manage, without a word. They would lose
themselves in the forest first. And then…

"I will hunt them down." The words were dark as the
clouds overhead. "I will end each and every among them."

Dawn was not for some hours yet. Aile had been
somewhat thankful that the mining town found their beds so early as
it meant she was done with the Regent with more than enough time to
make it to a nearby town before that town's inhabitants had woken
for their morning chores.

She was not sure of the name of the town she had
found, but so long as it had a stable it did not much matter. The
town had barely been cut out of the thick wood that surrounded it.
It did not appear to be on any major road, either. The town played
host to a small lumber mill and not much else from what she could
see. There were a sparse couple of houses dotted along the tiny
dirt road that weaved lazily through the town. There was no inn,
and perhaps room enough for two dozen elves between the houses she
could see.

Aile entered the minuscule village realizing that
there was not apt to be much in the way of options if there were
horses at all. She passed a few houses with fishing gear sitting
out front. There must have been a river or lake nearby. She passed
them by without much care and made for the area around the sawmill
proper. She heard the telltale sound of a horse as she neared the
building. Aile stepped around the corner and saw the animal, a
large, chestnut dray horse inside a rough wooden fence. She
frowned. It would be a slow animal and like was not to be fond of
bareback riders, but it would have to do as she wasn't in any sort
of mood to try to yoke the beast to cart to keep it comfortable.
She opened the gate to approach it.

Aile threw a leg over the animal. It chuffed as she
arranged herself on its back, but did not make much in the way of
noise. Nor did it react violently. The large horse would serve, as
whatever inn she called her home that night would likely have a
host of horses more fit for stealing. Around breakfast and dinner,
they were often even left saddled and ready. Gift wrapped, she
liked to imagine.

The morning air was bracing and the rain was
returning as the dawn approached. The sun was rising, she knew, but
the color of the sky changed very little as she rode on. She would
need to rejoin the main road if she was to have any manner of
comfort by the end of her day's ride.

The roads had not taken well to the rain of the past
few days. The horse made plain its annoyance, letting go regular
chuffs and grunts any time the mud gave it trouble. Aile could not
bring herself to disagree. In the southern provinces the air would
at least be warm this late in Saol, but the north seemed to only be
capable of bracing air at the best of times. The rain only stood to
make the ride more frustrating with drops pelting her face any time
she looked up to estimate her position along the road. The worst
was that the dim light of the morning made it impossible to brace
for the splash of the rain.

The sun had been up for a fair few hours when she
finally made the main road connecting Cnoclean and Spéirbaile. It
was a welcome sight, though it had been turned to washed out divots
fairly severely in places and the shoulders were nearly entirely
flooded. The middle of the road was serviceable enough and Aile
chose to position the large horse there. The horse seemed to like
the road enough to finally give her something similar to speed. The
whip of the wind and rain was worth the rate of travel she was
gaining for her discomfort.

It had been maybe a half hour at the fair clip when
Aile noticed a trail of figures and the silhouette of a carriage
ahead of her.

"Goddess take them all," she cursed under her
breath.

She would not be able to keep on the road past them.
A carriage with so many bodies was like to be some noble or
businessman. They loved traveling in their ridiculous columns. Aile
did not like the idea of traveling in a column. Or, at least, she
did not like the idea of traveling at the back of a column. The
horses at the front had to shit somewhere, it stood to reason, and
those at the back could not well walk around them. Riding through a
ceaseless line of shit. It was very like the elves, she thought and
laughed to herself. Her mirth was brief, however, as the column and
its shitting horses meant she would have to move into the wood. It
was thin enough here, a mix of young growth maple and the
occasional spruce or holly tree. It would still slow her and the
ground in the wood was apt to be soft which meant risk for the
large, clumsy horse she'd stolen.

She had no real choice, however, and into the tree
line she went. She was right enough. Though the ground was soft and
the trees were generally well separated, her mount was clumsy and
not given to moving in such conditions. The dray horse kept a slow
pace in spite of her proddings and finally she gave up, letting the
horse choose its own pace.

As she neared the rear of the convoy that had forced
her off the road, she found she was a bit more thankful for the
soft ground. It would mask her passing. The rain was heavy now and
that would help as well.

"Another kindness of the Goddess," she scoffed to
herself. Those sorts of blessings were ones she'd really rather
have in shorter supply.

Aile looked over at the guard following the carriage.
It was plain enough and gave away no real clue as to who sat inside
other than markings that told of it being from the Bastion in
Spéirbaile. The carriages were used by the entirety of the staff of
the Bastion and it could have been just about anyone from the large
castle. A creeping curiosity welled up in Aile. It could have been
her noblewoman. Or her employer. For a half second, her brain
screamed to ride up alongside it and just have a peek. She knew the
idea was folly and quickly pressed it down, riding on. Perhaps if
she'd had a faster horse, she told herself.

It was another thirty minutes of slow work in the
woods before she had put the convoy far enough in the distance.
They were traveling incredibly slow for whatever reason and Aile
took it as another stroke of luck. Had they been moving at any
reasonable pace, she'd like to have never passed them in the woods.
It was behind her now, either way. Another hour passed. A sign in
the road signaled that there was an inn ahead. It was somewhere
around midday, by her reckoning, and she wanted to rest. She would
have, were it not for the convoy behind. She was of no mind to
share an inn with the few dozen soldiers that rode alongside the
carriage, nagging curiosity or no. The inn passed her by.

The horse began to tire as the sky dimmed. She had
not ridden it harder than was needed after passing the noble. She
needed her mount alive long enough to guarantee a distance that
meant as few questions as possible. The inn she had passed was the
only shelter along the main road for some miles. In better
conditions, it would not have been a bother. It was easy enough to
travel the miles between them when the roads were dry. There had
also been signs beckoning her down side roads in search of smaller
inns at villages off the main path. Aile considered them, but the
thought of gold waiting for her in Spéirbaile was enough to keep
her trekking in the right direction. After what had seemed like a
wet eternity, she saw the sign in the fading light of day. The inn
wasn't far off.

She pulled into the wood again. It wasn't likely the
horse she stole from the small lumber town would be a worry this
far along the road to Spéirbaile, but she did not intend to risk
it. Aile led the horse a few hundred yards into the wood. When she
had gotten far enough from the main road, she pointed the horse
into the forest and cut it on the hind leg. The horse bucked and
kicked, crying out in protest. It then ran off in the direction she
had aimed it. She had not cut it deep, but it was tired. Wolves or
bears would likely pull the creature down and handle the rest.

The inn was a bit farther than she had anticipated
and her cloaked figure shadowed the door well after night had
fallen.

She swung the door open and was greeted by a wash of
warm air. The inn was humble of make. Log walls that formed a large
main room with a few wooden tables and chairs off to the left near
a fireplace. At the other side was a wraparound counter with a door
behind and past that a hallway. Aile figured there were maybe five
rooms in total.

As she entered, she glanced over the room. A stocky
elf with a great beard stood behind the counter going over
paperwork. He did not look up at the sound of the door, nor did he
mean to greet her, it seemed. At the other end of the room, there
were three elves sat among the chairs and tables. One was
conspicuously large and muscled. He had long dark hair and olive
skin that bore more scars than Aile was bothered to count. He
stared at her, making no attempt to turn his gaze away when she
looked at him.

Two others sat in front of the fire, talking. They
did not seem to notice her. A shorter, blond elf in cheap leathers.
She could not see his face, but his voice spoke of a certain
charisma. Beside him sat a silver-haired female. She giggled
insipidly with every sentence from the blonde man's mouth. Her face
was fair and her laugh as high and pure as Aile had ever heard but
she wore leathers in place of a dress. It was not uncommon for
hunting women to do, surely enough, but she wore leather of a
similar make to the man telling her such delightful stories.

Aile approached the counter, the innkeep still busied
with his papers.

"Horse coverin's out back. Tie up yer nag first an'
then I'll see to a room." The man's voice was deep.

"No horse," Aile said plainly. "Just a room."

The man looked up, his expression did not change when
he saw her grey skin. He spoke dismissively. "No horse but coin fer
a room? Don't be wastin' my time, Drow. Room's five silver."

She pulled a gold piece from her pocket and dropped
it on the counter in front of the rotund elf. He grabbed it up,
turned it in his hand, and rapped it against the counter.

"Real enough," he said. "Breakfast is sausage and
eggs. Ain't no room service. You want food, you eat in here with
everybody else. There's no bath an' the shithouse's out back by the
horse cover." He reached into his pocket and pulled out five silver
to give her as change.

"I do not require the silver."

He shrugged. "Suit yerself. Bed ain't no softer for
the gold, though."

She glanced over her shoulder at the other patrons.
"Those elves. Are they typical of your inn?"

"Ain't seen a one of 'em before, if that's how you
mean. But then, I don't get so many Drow in here neither. Room's at
the end of the hall." He slapped a key on the counter.

Aile took the key and made for her room. The hall was
thin, not ideal in a fight. She was not entirely sure what to make
of the guests but she did not like the feeling to say the least.
The southron elf would be large enough to block the hallway in full
if she tried to make an escape past him. They may have been
mercenaries or raiders, she could not say. If they had no business
with her, so much the better. Perhaps they meant to attack the
convoy she had passed.

The Drow opened the door to her room and entered
quickly. She turned and locked it, sliding the wedge of wood
provided into place at the foot of the door to help secure it so
much as she could. Aile removed her packs and placed them on the
floor, arching her back as she stood up. Goddess, she had been too
long on the dray horse. Her back ached with pleasure to finally be
free of the weight and the straps. She groaned, lit the room's
lantern, and fell onto the bed.

The room was practically bare. Five silver was
robbery, she thought. But what could one do? The inn was situated
with some careful thought to say the least. The bed was comfortable
enough. A cheap woolen bedroll on a raised flat of wood that made
no attempt at craftsmanship. There was a basin in the corner with
water which showed no sign of having been changed in the time the
inn had stood. Aile rolled her head around, thinking that surely
there would be something else in the room. There was not. No
closet, no pictures on the wall. It was a depressing place to put
it mildly. It was softer and warmer than the tent had been, if
just.

Her mind turned back to the other guests. She
wondered how long they had been at the inn and why. If they were
mercenaries or raiders, they may try to take her just for the sport
of it. She had often been attacked by the sort of morons who wanted
only to brag of having battled a Drow. And then there were the
heroes and slavers. They figured someone would pay for a Drow,
surely. Either coin from the authorities or maybe a hefty purse
from some shabby brothel. The sort that kept their whores pliant
and joyful with alchemists' potions. At the very least, the desert
elf was like to try something.