Sunset of Lantonne (24 page)

It was nearly nightfall when the wagon came to a stop near the heart of the small northern village, giving Ilarra her first glimpse of home in nearly three months, though it felt far longer.

Settled into the denser part of the new woods in that part of the plains, Hyeth was made up of perhaps thirty buildings surrounded by a cleared section of farmland. There were no true roads into the place, with only the thin wagon trail that led into and out of the region that they now trundled along on. That tended to be heavily-used, so it cut cleanly through the woods.

Hyeth was a new village in a location that had been called by the same name for at least two hundred years. The previous incarnations of the farming village had been destroyed by plains savages, who still raided nearby from time to time. It was a cycle that had repeated itself through the area’s history.

A hundred years or so ago, after the last burning of Hyeth, Ilarra’s grandfather had been the one to forge the first bonds with the black-and-white wolf wildlings of the region who were hunted by the same tribes as had destroyed the village. Those had been the first of the line that Raeln came from. Since then, only a handful of families kept the bonds with each generation, though most elven and wildling families here simply worked together for mutual benefit rather than making it more official through magic. These days, most saw the bonds as old-fashioned.

At the far end of the central ring of houses stood the largest of the buildings, nearly twice the height and at least three times as long as any other structure in the village. There, her father and two other elders kept the books of history and magic that Hyeth had long held dear, and was where he taught during the winter months. The place had been all but abandoned when she had left, but now it was bustling.

When the wagon came to a stop, several dozen elves and wolf wildlings came into view, watching to see who would have traveled so far to such a remote location in a wagon clearly not meant for carrying supplies. The village rarely received visitors who were not hauling goods between major cities.

Opening the door to the wagon, Raeln was the first out, offering a hand to Ilarra to help her make the long step down to the packed snow and dirt road. After Ilarra was down, he reached back into the wagon and picked up Corth, carrying him as one might carry luggage. That seemed to amuse many of the townsfolk, few of whom had likely ever seen a halfling and likely thought him a human child that Raeln was scolding.

Dressed in simple grey robes, Ilarra’s father came to the steps of the larger building with Asha at his side. Making their way down the uneven steps of the library toward the wagon, he maintained a steady smile the whole way. Asha was not so pleased, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Corth.

“Greetings, my children,” announced Ilarra’s father, grabbing her in a firm hug, then doing the same to Raeln. The greeting was repeated silently by Asha for each of them, though she continued to watch Corth and had begun giving Raeln a questioning stare that Ilarra recognized as concern that he had done something she would have to scold him for.

“You were not expected back for another year or two. What has…” Her father’s eyes wandered to the halfling squirming in Raeln’s grasp, his words trailing off briefly. “…you are in trouble? Is that the king’s prisonmaster? I had heard descriptions, but why…oh dear.”

Nodding vehemently and grunting through his gag, Corth got a rough shake from Raeln until he stopped.

Groaning, Ilarra’s father looked to Asha for support. Shaking her head slowly, Asha gave him a firm stare that said in no uncertain terms that she was not about to get involved just yet. She made a point of not looking at Raeln, which told Ilarra that he was in a lot of trouble with her. Raeln’s obsession with playing by the rules and the rule of law came from Asha and Ilarra did not envy the silent scolding he was about to get.

“Is this something that will bring the law down on our village?” asked her father, eliciting another vigorous nod from the halfling while Raeln shook his head. “I am not above sending you both away if you’ve done something that reflects badly on Hyeth. I will not harbor fugitives.”

“Father,” Ilarra began, subtly motioning Raeln to back up so that the halfling did not answer for her. He did so, but Asha turned to watch her son like a hawk, her eyes saying that she was anything but pleasant to see him given the circumstances and that she would chase him down if he tried to run. “We were turned away at the tower when the Altisian army showed up. There was a little misunderstanding…”

Corth snorted and sputtered, trying to speak up around his gag.

“…and we were caught up with some spies from that city. This guy was in charge of having us held without trial…”

The halfling tried to shout something, but the gag muffled it nicely.

“…and had me whipped once and beaten often, for no reason.”

This time, Corth gave a somewhat agreeing mutter.

“One of the other prisoners escaped at the same time we did,” she continued, opting to leave out the part where they had helped him. “He captured Corth and then fled, so we had no choice but to bring Corth the rest of the way. I…we…thought you might have a better idea what to do with him. I have done nothing more than get into a fight with a few soldiers, which I’ve already served more time in prison for than the law requires.”

Without any indication she was going to do it, Asha reached past Ilarra and grabbed Raeln by one of his pointed ears. She dragged him away by the ear while he just barely managed to maintain a hold on Corth.

Once the others had gone, her father turned back to Ilarra, his face clearly saddened.

“I am not happy to hear of what you went through,” he told her, motioning broadly for her to enter the library, where they lived on the upper floor. “We will do what we can to smooth this out with the halfling and send him on his way. It will not be easy, I am sure. What I do need to know is where the other prisoner escaped to, so that I can answer honestly if the king’s men come this far looking for answers. Giving that one up might appease some in Lantonne, even if the small man wishes to see you hang.”

They went into the large building, making their way toward the stairs that led up to their family’s portion of the structure. As they went, Ilarra saw Asha through one of the rear windows in the snowy fields beyond, glaring at Raeln, whose head hung in shame.

Ilarra had always wondered how the bonded wildlings managed to communicate as well as the elves they served without voices, but they certainly could, given what she saw Raeln going through. She had seen that situation a few hundred times as they had grown up, often when he had taken the blame for something she had done. Just seeing him hanging his head like that made Ilarra feel guilty, even though she knew there was little she could have done differently. Though she had never caught Raeln or Asha speaking, she wondered if perhaps they would talk when they were not near their bonded, as the oath was nothing that prevented them from speaking, just a rule for them to follow.

Thinking back over the last month and more, Ilarra refused to let herself believe she had made a mistake. To have let the wildling near the quarry die would have spared her from the dungeon but cost her any self-respect she possessed. That was just not who she was, and letting that death mar her conscience would have haunted her for the rest of her life. Raeln might have been the one more concerned about following the letter of law, but she never could have looked him in the eye again if she had stood by and let the wildling and his children die.

Wishing Raeln all the luck in the world in dealing with his mother, Ilarra followed her father upstairs, where most of the village’s hunters and warriors were already gathered, surprising her. A dozen strong elven and wildling men stared at her as she stopped at the top step.

“We were having a meeting about the war when your wagon arrived,” her father explained, pointing out one of several empty seats. “Given where you came from and what you told me, I feel you should share with the others.”

Put on the spot by men that ranged from her own age to her father’s, Ilarra nervously cleared her throat and took her time sitting down, hoping to find some courage in the meantime. That did not happen, and when she looked up, the men were still staring expectantly.

“I…we…Raeln and I were leaving Lantonne when Altis’ army arrived. They had thousands of undead and no more than fifty living soldiers leading them.”

“Were they driven back?” asked one of the hunters.

An older wolf with a deep scar across his face added, “You did not say just how many. Two thousand or fifty thousand. The numbers make a difference to cities larger than ours. A hundred can take us down, but knowing whether the cities need us to go to their aid is a big deal, girl.”

A few other questions were asked, but her father asked the men to be silent and give her time to answer.

“Ten, maybe fifteen thousand if I had to guess,” she admitted, not really sure how to estimate numbers as large as what they had seen briefly before taking shelter. “Lantonne used the largest golems I’ve ever seen to fight them. They looked like giant dwarves…”

“War golems,” cut in her father softly. “Likely borrowed from the dwarves at great expense. Nothing can stand up to them. If those are involved, the war between the cities is already over.”

Ilarra shook her head, making most of the men glare at her. “While I was in jail,” she started, wincing as the glares deepened, “I overheard that the Altisians managed to destroy one of the golems and cripple three more. The explosion killed hundreds of soldiers on the plains and in some underground passage between the northern quarry and the city itself. The king’s having those that were captured executed, but the others in the prison said that the undead army mostly got away.”

Grumbling discussion of whether she was lying or incompetent filled the room, making Ilarra wish yet again that she was anywhere else. Her father patted her hand reassuringly, but it did little to make her feel better.

Finally, the men quieted down and one of the older wildlings announced, “The girl may not have any idea what she saw out there, but I’m willing to believe Altis has a large army. Our scouts estimate the force that came south across the plains was at least two thousand, so I’ll bet on four or five thousand in the whole army. It’s more than we can hold back if they came this way, but Altis has never taken interest in this part of Lantonne’s lands. We’ll do what we’ve always done…stay out of matters best left to kings. Close the paths into the woods and turn away merchants. We will stay hidden until this blows over.”

A rumble of agreement went through the room, after which the hunters and warriors got up and left without a word to Ilarra or her father. The decision was made and discussing it further was pointless. It was how all matters of war were handled in Hyeth. The few warriors the village had were far more concerned with raiding parties from the east than with an army that had nothing to gain by coming into the wooded part of the northern plains.

Once the last man had left, Ilarra started to rise as well, but her father caught her by the shoulder and sat her back down.

“Ilarra,” he started, leaning forward in his seat, “I sent you to Lantonne to give you a better life than you could find here. You returned empty-handed and hunted. Tradition leaves me little room for choice with regards to your future.”

Ilarra winced at the implications. Her father had attempted to get her an education…among the elves, abandoning a task meant that you were likely unsuited to trying further. There would be no more learning of magic or another trip to Lantonne. She had known that it was coming, but hoped her father would give her more time before breaking the bad news. Worse yet, since she had failed at what she wanted to do with her life, it was now her father’s choice as to what profession she would take up for the betterment of the village.

“I’ve had plans ready in case of something like this, though I had hoped I would never need to act on them,” he went on, getting up as he spoke and walking to a cabinet at the far end of the room. From a drawer, he pulled out a sheaf of paper and checked it before turning back to Ilarra.

“One of the warrior families from the northern farmlands has been looking for help,” he continued, rolling back up the paper as he sat down. “Namely, they have a wildling girl that is bonded to one of their warriors. She has taken to combat the same way their son has, which poses a problem. Normally, we would want her to have skills that differ and complement his, but she has shown no interest in learning another trade. The family has tried to offer her alternatives, but she has been stubborn to say the least.”