No One's Chosen (58 page)

The moons were well across the sky when the walls
came into clear view. Óraithe felt a rush of relief. It had been
hours since she had breathed normally.

"Teas, look. Home. Scaa will have brought a healer.
The best in the city. We have gold for it."

The girl looked up weakly at the approaching city.
She smiled weakly. "I should like to see Bonn," she said.

"He will be there. I know he will." Óraithe pressed
on.

The walls were clear now and she could see the
features along it in the light of the Eyes. She looked and saw
three souls waiting near one of the drainage openings. It must be
Scaa, she told herself, and angled toward them. When she could make
out the rough shapes, Óraithe smiled. Scaa was there. She had not
abandoned them. And with her were Bonn and a woman in dark robes. A
healer.

The three had appeared to be in conversation and
Óraithe was quite close when they finally noticed them. Scaa
hurried over when she saw how Teas leaned on the small elf.

Scaa stopped short of them and looked Teas over.
"Sisters be good."

The healer moved around the rough voiced elf and
gasped. She muttered a curse and took off her maroon robe, offering
it to Teas. "Take this, child. Please."

Scaa grabbed the robe from the woman and helped drape
it around Teas. She took the girl off of Óraithe's arms and lifted
her easily. Bonn came close and Teas reached out her hand to the
boy, smiling.

"We will go to the gates," the healer said. "The
tunnels are slow and cramped."

"Bonn," Scaa said, motioning to his arms. He held
them out and Scaa passed Teas to him. She turned to the healer. "Go
ahead of us. We will meet you."

The healer nodded and walked off silently. Óraithe
stood beside Scaa, staring. She grabbed the boyish elf's hand and
squeezed it tight.

"Tell me she will heal."

Scaa looked down at Óraithe's frowning face. Her
rough voice was soft and apologetic. "Her body will."

It was along the ride back to the inn that the
brown-haired woman finally put Rianaire's name together with her
title. They had just reintroduced themselves around the wagon. The
woman stood up sharply and nearly tumbled out of the wagon in her
surprise. The next five minutes were nothing but a litany of
apologies and insistences that she would never do something so
terrible again.

The woman had given her name, Lacha, and the
silver-haired girl had as well. She was called Muinín, though she
spoke only when asked a question directly, and even then she did
not offer much. Rianaire had only managed to learn that she was
from a town well west of Theasín and the girl gave precious little
else but the occasional shake or nod of the head.

Rianaire had seen to their meals and gotten them
fresh clothes. The three elves ate voraciously. It was clear they
had not eaten properly in some time just to look at them, but their
appetites were truly massive. Between the three they finished off
two full legs of lamb and more stewed potatoes than Rianaire
thought possible.

When the food was down, the hard luck raiders fell
straight to sleep. Inney volunteered to stand guard over them and
insisted she would need no relief through the night. The morning
proved her true and Rianaire joined the room after Síocháin had
dressed her with the rising sun.

Rianaire entered the room to find the elves huddled
close on the small bed, though there was another in the room they
still slept together. An artefact of their life together, she
mused. It would go in time if they could escape their life. She
frowned to see it. It was a failing of her abilities as Treorai
that people were driven to lives such as Lacha's. The numbers had
fallen in her time ruling the Spéirbaile province, but they had not
disappeared. It was a difficult thing to fix for myriad
reasons.

The sound of the door shutting behind Síocháin woke
the elves on the bed. Lacha bid the younger pair to quickly make
themselves presentable to the Treorai. They put on the clothes that
Rianaire had sent Síocháin to buy the evening before and fidgeted
awkwardly by the bed.

"I trust you slept well," Rianaire said. "We shall
eat before we leave."

Lacha nodded silently and pushed the younger elves
toward the door. The meal was a silent one, at least for the three
raiders. Rianaire was in high spirits and spoke liberally to
Síocháin and Inney about the inn and how surprised she was at the
quality of the food that was produced from such a small kitchen.
Inney and Síocháin gave little in the way of answers but it did not
abate the one-sided conversation as Rianaire continued her
ponderings, wondering what the leader of the raiders might be
like.

When the meal was done they loaded into the wagon
again. As they got under way, Rianaire finally quieted down. The
morning was sunny and uncomfortably warm and humid. It was the sort
of day Rianaire would have preferred to spend naked in some place
with a cool bath and a large window to allow the breeze in. There
was a bit of breeze out in the world, but it was warm and muggy
itself, giving little comfort under the rough clothes she'd been
forced to wear. Rianaire tugged at the outfit regularly to keep it
away from her skin.

It was not long before the heat of the day pushed
down onto them and they passed the place where they had met Lacha
and her fellow raiders. When they passed the corpses of the men
they had left there, a flock of crows sat casually on the bodies,
pulling at bits of skin. It would not be long before the other
animals of the nearby wood would be out and at the dead flesh.

Lacha began to direct them from there. It was along
the larger side road another half hour before they turned onto a
path that amounted to little more than a forest trail. The trail
was poorly worn and seemed almost intentionally covered at times.
Indeed it may have been, but Lacha could not say when questioned
about it. The going was slow and bumpy, though the passengers in
the rear of the wagon got the worst of the ride. Rianaire supposed
that was a just enough situation considering that they had meant to
see her die the day before.

It would be well more than an hour on the trail when
Inney looked behind them.

"We are surrounded, maybe ten," she said, calmly.
"They are at a distance that does not cause me concern." She did
not slow or speed the cart or give any other indication that she
was aware of the followers.

Rianaire spoke to Lacha without turning around to
face the woman. "Is this normal?"

"I cannot say. If we've ever been watched, I did not
know of it, but I doubt I'd have been meant to."

Inney kept the cart steady and they rode on for
another twenty minutes before a large clearing around the mouth of
a cave came into view.

"This is it," Lacha said.

The clearing in front of the cave was nothing special
to behold. A half-circle of dirt extending out from the trail that
was tramped down with use. There was no sign of horse nor wagon and
to Rianaire's eyes there was no sign of life but Inney's regular
shifting told her that her eyes were not like to be so useful as
she would hope.

Inney pulled the cart from the trail onto the packed
black dirt of the clearing. She kept them a good distance from the
forest at the edge of the clearing when the wagon came to a proper
stop. When the wagon had settled Inney stood, facing the trees.

"If you three come from the wood behind us, I will be
forced to kill you. I would ask that if you value your lives,
please approach from a different position."

With that the short half elf hopped down from the
wagon and offered her hand to Rianaire. The Treorai took it and
stepped down onto the dirt and Inney helped Síocháin down as well
with a steadying hand.

"I would have you wait in the wagon," Rianaire said
to Lacha and her pups. "I should not like for you to play host to
arrows meant for us now that you have fulfilled our agreement."

There was no sound from the wood behind them, but in
front Rianaire could make out shadows moving among the mouth of the
cave. A tall man with fair skin and the brown hair of the river
elves came forward first, flanked by at least ten elves on either
side. He stood just off the edge of the small trail and spoke.

"I am Nasc," the man said. "Who are you and what
business do you have here?"

Rianaire stepped forward confidently. "I am Rianaire,
Treorai of Spéirbaile." A few of the raiders put their hands to the
hilt of their swords, but Nasc waved a hand and they relaxed. "I am
here with a proposal. Though I would have you bring your eyes from
the woods and I would also have you show me your leader."

"Why would the Treorai have business with a band of
raiders?"

"I will gladly explain it to the leader of your
band."

"And if I say I am the leader?"

Rianaire turned to Lacha and the woman shook her
head. She turned back to the man and shrugged.

"Enough of this." A high, scratchy voice pierced the
air. The accent was thick and one Rianaire had never heard before.
It was no Drow. Rianaire could see a shadow move behind the others,
taller than the elves.

A wiry, thin creature walked to the front. A satyr
and a female at that. She moved in front of Nasc and Rianaire could
see her plainly now. She had a tan, freckled face, not unlike an
elf's. Her ears were pointed and her hair was a dirty red color.
She wore loose clothes, a shift and skirt of dull blue, over her
body and her hirsute, hoofed feet poked out from the bottom. There
was a sword belt hung loosely around her wait and she held a lit
pipe.

The satyr took a drag and motioned to the cart.
"Those are mine."

"They belong to no one. Elves are free to do as they
will." Rianaire's voice was calm but the satyr let go a derisive,
snorting laugh.

"You are a fool or have a fool's ideals."

"I wonder if the kin you left to the centaur would
say the same of you." Rianaire did not know much of the satyr, in
truth, but she knew that they were not so willing in their service
to the centaur.

The satyr's face straightened and her shrill voice
became serious. "A proposal. You make deals with thieves."

"A nobler title than I'm sure most of you deserve."
Rianaire smiled politely and said nothing further.

The satyr woman stood and looked her over a moment.
She shifted the weight of her slim body from one hoof to the other
and took a drag of her pipe. She inhaled deep and let the smoke
trickle out slowly. When the smoke had gone, she nodded. "We shall
talk." She turned and the crowd of raiders split behind her.

Rianaire moved to follow with Síocháin and Inney at
her back. As they passed through the gathered rows of elves,
Rianaire saw that they were of all ages and origins. There were no
other hippocamps among the flock, she noticed. The Treorai could
not decide if that was strange or something she ought to have
expected.

The inside of the cave was well tended in most
places, lined with furs along the lower parts of the walls. The
main passage gave way to a larger cavern where most of the
day-to-day living appeared to take place. They moved through the
room with strange looks from the elves there. Some were quite old
and many were infirm, though they appeared well taken care of. At
the back side of the main cavern, the cave split into three smaller
tunnels. Nasc had fallen in behind Rianaire and her line and he saw
to it that they moved down the left side tunnel. At the end of the
tunnel, some thick wood had been worked into a door. The satyr had
opened it and awaited inside.

"They say my name is Gadaí," the satyr said as she
sat herself at a padded bench on the far side of a table decorated
in deep reds and golds. The entire room was strewn with such colors
and was well outfitted for a cave. There were rugs and wall
coverings and art, even a few stone carvings of horsefolk. Rianaire
had never seen the style before. She did not know the hippocamps to
have artistry, but she could scarcely imagine any elf making such a
thing, crude and in the shape of a bitter enemy.

Gadaí motioned to the chair on the far side of the
table. "I was not called such a name until I came to this place. My
old name does not matter in this time," she said blowing more
smoke.

The smoke was pungent, whatever it was, and burned
Rianaire's eyes though she could not show it. Rianaire took her
place in the chair and the others stood on either side of the chair
with Inney nearest the door. Nasc had stopped by the door after
closing it.

"I suppose I should first ask why a satyr has seen it
fit to create a band of raiders?"

Gadaí took another drag and looked away. "I have
questions for you, but this is fine." Her accent was thick as the
smoke she exhaled but Rianaire could understand her well enough.
"You elves speak often to me of the cruelty of the centaur, but you
are capable of as much yourselves. I left my people when I had seen
enough of the blood of babes and the tears of parents. I fled to
your lands and stole and watched and traveled. Your people rape and
kill as ours do. There is no institution to it, but they are not
different from the centaur in this way. I saw no choice in it so I
began to take in your weak and lame. The weak and lame cannot
provide, but the strong and cruel are capable enough at doing as
they are told. At least when threatened with the blade. I can
protect the weak in this way."

"Then you are a savior."

Gadaí laughed a staggered, staccato laugh in her high
tone. "I am nothing like. I am simply tired of death visited upon
those who do not seek it. But now an elf lord in common clothes
sits before me, so perhaps I am more than I thought. You have
things to propose?"