The Coming Storm (78 page)

He’d watched the girl in battle. When the horde had come over the rise she hadn’t flinched, staying calm and controlled. With a bow she was nearly as good as an Elf and they were legendary.

Loath as he was to admit it, he’d found himself watching her frequently, comparing her to the other two commanders at the front. Where they’d stood back shouting orders to be carried out by others, she’d been in the thick of it, urging her people on and laying about her with her sword and a will.

What he needed to do was to get this strike force of Elon’s to the South in the event that his fears were valid. He also needed someone blunt enough and forceful enough to get the commanders of those garrisons to do what needed to be done. As close as both were to Doncerric it hadn’t seemed to matter much who filled those positions. Both positions had been prized for their closeness to Marakis and Doncerric and their distance from any real danger. Now that had changed.

Well, she was certainly blunt enough. He had had complaints about it already, that for one of her position now she was only too frank. Mostly from those who had the least right to speak on it.

This would get her away from that as well.

Only now could he regret he’d given the commands of those garrisons to the ones that now held them. Both positions had been granted to help buy his crown. They’d been at peace for so many years, the only reason  he’d even kept the garrisons in place at all was the example of his predecessor. It also served to give standing to the extra sons and daughters of the lesser Kings and those who couldn’t find suitable employment in other trades. Now he would pay for it.

It was insane. He was about to put the fate of his Kingdom into the hands of a young woman barely past her majority. It irritated him but he had no choice.

“All right. I’ll give her warrant to take command of those garrisons as well, if she needs it. Neither one of those commanders is worth their salt. A recommendation as well to Olend so he takes her seriously.”

Elon didn’t think that would be necessary.

Olend, he knew.

In the past, Marakis alone among the Kingdoms had never been an enemy to the Elves who occupied a small portion of their northern border. Their philosophy had been the enemy of my enemy is my ally. And so they had been. Olend had long been a friend of the Elves. Through Jareth and his connection to Olend’s Queen Itan, another wizard, that friendship had only grown stronger and more personal. That one would know the value of what he was being sent.

He said nothing of that to Daran, however.

It was a wonder that Mornith hadn’t suborned Olend, considering the man that he was. Itan though, was a wizard. As much as these agents of Mornith seemed to move so unmolested and unremarked, bringing something like a soul-eater around Itan wouldn’t have been possible. She would have known it for what it was instantly and raised the alarm. She was a wise and canny woman some decades older than Olend. Mornith wouldn’t have dared to chance it.

“What else?” Daran said, “Oh yes, a warrant to call up the Elves and Dwarves. I’ll grant you have the authority to raise up your own people but the Dwarves may not be so willing.”

“That thing on the hill would have convinced them of their peril, that and the attack on their Cavern in the North,” Elon pointed out. He wondered how they fared there. “I’ll speak with the Lore Masters here, the Dwarves have their own manner of passing such things on. I’ll send Colath to Alatheriann. Our people will follow him. They’ll know that he speaks for me.”

Jalila he would send to call up their people at Aerilann as he needed Colath in the south as soon as possible. He’d send Jareth with Ailith. That would leave him with no one here at his back but there was no help for it, he couldn’t leave. Someone had to keep the army organized and Daran was too much of a peacetime king, he negotiated where he needed to command. There was little doubt Daran was shrewd in the manner of the politics of his people. War was another thing, though. Somehow he would get them moving South as quickly as they could, a matter of weeks only.

A secretary had been busily scribbling in the background and now handed Daran the warrants and orders needed. Elon took his leave of the King and sent one of the Guards to alert Jareth and Jalila that they were needed, asking them to join him in his tent.

However briefly, if only for a few moments, they would all be together.

The thought caused him a pang.

Both Ailith and Colath looked up as he entered. Just looking into Ailith’s clear blue eyes wrenched him. Once more they would be separated and once more he sent her into danger. He would in fact be sending both there.

 He looked at them.

It would be hard to part with either, much less both. There was no choice. He handed Ailith the warrants.

“You’re going south, both of you. Jareth will go with you, Ailith. I’ll send Jalila to raise our people and join you there.”

“I think I see Mornith’s plan clearly now. All of this, all of it was planned. The Door to the South. It was always there, Ailith, you kept saying it but we just didn’t see it. I didn’t see it. Glimmerings of it but not the total plan. He hadn’t been merely testing the borders, he’d also been testing those who defended them. The most capable he suborned with people like Tolan. We’re left with the rest. He planned this for a long time. He meant this wave to strike through the lands most likely to be capable and willing of resisting him and then into the now defenseless heartlands. If it succeeded he counted on ‘rescuing’ or conquering a terrorized and demoralized people. You were right in that, Ailith, he wants people to bow to him. They would, to save themselves from further devastation. He always planned to move from the South, once the time was right. Either as the savior or the conqueror. He’ll come now and he’ll come in force. He must.”

It felt right, layer on layer of plans and counter plans.

“Ailith, you must go and quickly to Olend with what Hunters and Woodsmen we have, they’ll meet you at the rear. You go with the King’s warrant to take command of the garrisons in the south if need be. Olend will test you. If you pass and you will, he’ll back you. Enjoy it. He’ll know, then, the value of the one I send him. Ailith, Colath, however you must, you both and Olend must hold Mornith there in Marakis. Slow him down however you can. Harass and harry him. He must not reach the plains before we get there. Olend’s people are warriors by nature, they’ll fight and fight hard.”

“Colath, you go to Alatheriann first to raise up our people there and get as many to the Marakis as they can spare. Take command of them. I’ll speak with the Dwarves, try to get them to send their folk as well.”

They both nodded, although neither could say they liked the separation or the situation.

 “This will leave you with no one at your back who you trust,” Colath said, quietly, echoing Ailith’s thought.

For all there was no choice, he wasn’t comfortable leaving Elon’s back undefended, something  he had never done as his true-friend. Rarely were true-friends separated. That was his place, at Elon’s side, at his back. Some might think he would have a whole army there but none among those were his friends.

A small, warm hand slipped into Elon’s, in the way of their people to give comfort. Ailith looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with misgivings. Not with the plan, he knew her too well to think that.

Ailith’s heart ached at the idea of leaving him again. She knew the necessity but she didn’t have to like it.

“Be careful, Elon.”

Her disquiet and concern mirrored Colath’s, it shimmered in the bond between them.

“Two weeks, a little longer, no more, if I can,” he said, looking at Colath and then at her. “Hold that long and I’ll be with you. It may not come to that.”

She glanced back at Colath. “We didn’t get to do the forms.”

Through the link between their joined hands she felt a deep warmth and a sharp regret. Something similar moved through the bond from Colath.

Then Elon took her shoulders and looked her hard in the eyes.

“You are not, repeat not, to be at the front.”

He’d had enough of having his heart in his throat, although he’d dared not admit it to himself then.

Her mouth twisted in that wry smile he knew so well. Elon had missed it, it had been so long since he had seen it. More than anything else, it told him how undone she’d been by Geric’s disownment.

“I’ve had enough of the front I think for a while but for this I think it would be better if I worked from the rear,” she said, soberly – but her twinkling eyes betrayed her.

Ah, that was his Ailith
.

He glanced at Colath, then Ailith. “Be careful, as well, both of you.”

Colath nodded and turned to pack.

Duty called and Ailith answered reluctantly when he released her.

It pained her to leave him again and this time alone.

She gave him one more quick smile before she left. “Remember, I’ll be watching.”

In the stars in her mind. Something within Elon eased.

Elon met her eyes. “Will you?”

She nodded, her gaze meeting his steadily. A promise. “Always, as I did when you were in the South.”

It pained him to watch her go. Once more, he wouldn’t have her at his side, to talk to and consult with as he did with Colath. And Colath would be leaving, as well, too. Taking his oldest and most trusted companion from his side.

Colath looked at him. True-friend. There was no need to speak, Elon knew it, and Ailith had said it well enough.

They clasped arms for a moment, everything that needed to be said passed through the bond between them.

Then Colath was gone also.

The guard let Jalila past and Elon gave her his instructions.

As always, she stood utterly still and listened, her eyes on him. She nodded. Then she, too, was gone.

Jareth poked his head around the tent flap. “Ailith told me what’s happening but I didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye.”

“I’ll see you in two weeks, maybe longer, old friend.”

Giving him a steady look, Jareth said, “We’ll hold them for you, Elon.”

“I know you will,” he said.

Jareth disappeared, the tent flap settling behind him. They were gone.

For the first time in nearly half his life, he didn’t have Colath at his side.

The emptiness was… disturbing. There was Ailith’s absence, too. In such a short period of time, a fraction of a fraction of his long life, he’d grown accustomed to and dependent on her bright presence there. And Jareth, his old friend.

He shook it off. He couldn’t think of it. 

The Dwarves didn’t recognize night and day as Men did, spending so much of their lives below ground. He would see if the Lore Masters would speak with him.

With Colath and Jareth to each side of her, Ailith nodded to the waiting Hunters and Woodsmen, most of them now known to her and she to them. Most of had played scout for her in the days past but a few had been conscripted from the various lesser Kings. Those who knew her saluted or nodded in return to her greeting.

She gave her orders.

“Those of you with Elven-bred horses ride with me,” she said, “any without, make all possible speed to Marakis and join up with us there as soon as you may. Kolman, you’re in charge.”

There was a fast thumping of hooves from behind them.

Jalila saluted them as she went by, then leaned into Laes and was gone into the pre-dawn light.

It gave weight to the urgency of their mission as they watched her race away.

Distantly they heard the sounds of battle as last of the borderlands creatures, those that hadn’t already fled, were cleared from what had been the battlefield.

Forming up, they rode south at as fast a pace as they could reasonably push their horses. Even Elven-bred had limits and most had been pushed to it or close to it these last days. With Hunters and Woodsman, as it would have been with Gwillim, she didn’t have to push and cajole – they knew their duty.

It was three days of hard riding, though, with only a few hours sleep each night that saw them to the place where Colath had to leave them. Bad enough that she’d had to leave Elon, now she must part from Colath again, too.

“Ailith, two days, three at the most,” Colath said, his grip tight on her arm.

He misliked leaving her and Jareth as much as they had all disliked leaving Elon. At least they wouldn’t be alone, Ailith had Jareth with her, they would have each other. There was some comfort in leaving Ailith in the company of his old friend and Jareth in the company of Ailith.

“Perhaps we’ll have a little time, then, to do the forms, Colath.”

He smiled a little, conscious of those who watched.

“Olend will enjoy that and I’ll enjoy doing it. We’ll plan on it. Take care of yourselves, both of you.”

Colath reached out to Jareth, who took the offered arm clasp tightly as well.

Their eyes met.

Oddly, it suddenly occurred to Jareth that in all the years he’d known Colath, they hadn’t spent so much time together since the days when they’d set the border markers. It felt strange, now to watch him go, his fair hair streaming down his back, glinting in the sun. He looked back at them once, raised a hand in salute, then leaned into Chai and they were off.

For a moment, Ailith was still, conscious of another emptiness beside her.

Reluctantly, she signaled to her people and turned them toward Marakis.

They rode for a time in silence.

After a while, Jareth worked up the nerve to speak.

It had been on his mind for some time. The others were far enough behind he felt safe enough to talk freely.

“Ailith?”

Hearing something in his voice Ailith looked at him. For the first time since she’d known him, Jareth looked…uncomfortable.

Raising her eyebrow like that was such an Elven thing to do
, Jareth thought,
and she doesn’t know she does it
.

“What is this tie you have with Elon and Colath?”

The question startled her. She hadn’t really thought about it, and it was better, safer, not to, it just was.

He sighed. “I watch you three and that bond, that communication that develops between you but I don’t understand it.”

To his surprise, he felt a small twist of envy curl around his heart. It pained him, and shamed him a little.

“I don’t know,” she said with a glance behind her at the others, “that I understand it, either, Jareth.”

Thinking of it though reminded her of her last glimpse of Elon as the tent flaps had closed, his dark eyes troubled, his stern face so fixed in her mind. Her throat tightened at the memory.

There was Colath, too, riding toward Alatheriann. Already she missed him.

How did one explain that kind of magic to a wizard?

“It just is. From the first time we did the forms it was as if somehow we found a connection, a balance to and between each other. The forms gave us a base on which to build it, although I think it would have happened in any case. We found that balance, a place where we fit, one with the other, completing some part we’d been missing. It’s as if we were each whole unto ourselves but together we fit in ways that complement each other completely. What is there is different with each of us. With Colath, it’s as if we’ve been friends for such a very long time, we don’t need to speak any more, we simply understand.”

Jareth said, carefully, “They have a concept among the Elves they call true-friends that’s like that. That’s what it is between Elon and Colath, they tell me. True-friends. Even though they are a little far apart in age as Elves measure such things. They’ve tried to explain it to me once or twice but I’ve never really understood it. I’ve always thought it was something like siblings, or as close to siblings as Elves can get since they rarely have two children with the same parent or that are near in age. In some cases, as with Elon and Colath, it’s closer, as if they know each other so well they don’t need to talk at all. As they say that some twins can be, they’re so close they feel each other’s pain.”

He paused for a moment, and sighed, frowning a little.

“In a way, it’s a good thing Elon has that. There’s been some concern he’s too isolated, too apart and separate. From what Colath tells me, most of those Elon’s age have already found their soul-bonded partner. I don’t really understand that either but it’s something to do with the empathy they share with each other. A soul-bond partner has a much deeper connection. Elon hasn’t found his. They have a concept called alliances among them, to make certain the blood-lines are shared and he’s done that and had a child of it but not a soul-bond. In the past when there were more wars, some Elves lost their soul-bonds before the bond was made or set and the loss was sometimes known by the Elf who survived. But sometimes not. From what I understand that’s where the alliances came from, since the loss of the soul-bond threatened the loss of blood-lines. There have been years of peace, though and there’s been so sign he lost a soul-bond.”

It was the most Ailith had ever heard from him, an indication of the importance of the question to him.

It was something she hadn’t known though.

Was that why it sometimes it seemed as if Elon was so isolated when Colath wasn’t with him? Why he seemed so alone
?

 She ached for him.

“It seems,” Jareth said, slowly and carefully, “as if you and Colath have the same kind of relationship Colath has with Elon. A true-friend.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “It’s as if I don’t need to speak to Colath, we always seem to know what the other is thinking. I know what he’s going to do and I know where he’ll be if he’s at my back.”

“It seems that since you became a part of that, the bond between the three of you has gotten even deeper. You feel each other’s pain, I know because I’ve seen it. The closer you are together the more you feel it.”

“Jareth,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t explain it. I only know it is.”

“But it’s different with you and Elon.”

She nodded. She didn’t know how to quantify it. “It’s different with Elon.”

This was treading on uncomfortable territory. Her heart began to beat, hard.

“He cares a great deal about you,” Jareth said, carefully.

It took a second for her to understand what he was implying.

Shock went through her. It felt as if her heart stopped. She closed her eyes against it, against the pain of that thought.

“Don’t, Jareth, don’t even
think
it,” she said, softly, forcefully, looking at him. “Don’t ever even suggest such a thing.”

“Ailith,” he began.

“No, Jareth. Think of who and what I am and all the restrictions and prohibitions against it. I’m Otherling. Don’t forget that. Remember the tales. Think of what would happen if anyone found out what I am. Think about what you said and what it would do to Elon if they did. If I ease his loneliness a little then I’ll do that and be grateful for it. There can be nothing more. ”

That pain went deep. Knowing what she was, she hadn’t even allowed herself to consider such a thing, although it had been there in the back of her mind.

The ache around her heart deepened.

She looked at Jareth steadily.

Otherling.

Jareth had become so used to her company he’d forgotten.

“I’m sorry, Ailith,” he said. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

He was. Whether he admitted it or not, he hadn’t thought it through completely. Now he had and he sorrowed for her. For them both if what he guessed was true.

A deep breath against the heartache and then Ailith shook her head. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her and it wasn’t idle curiosity.

“Don’t worry, Jareth, it’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” she said and prayed it would be true.

For Elon’s sake.

He was Elven and she was…not.

To change the subject, Jareth asked, “Have you thought about what you’ll do after this?”

Once all this was over he meant. Now that she’d been disowned. He hadn’t said it but it was what he meant. That was easier at least, a little less painful to consider. It still didn’t seem real somehow, the idea she could never return to Riverford and yet it was.

“Probably join the Hunters or Woodsmen, whichever will take me. Thanks to Gwillim I have enough experience, they should accept me. I don’t know that I have any other choices. I was raised to lead, not follow. I have few skills outside of the sword. With the experience I’ve had so far, I wouldn’t want to serve with the army. Too many of the commanders there don’t deserve a command. I’d be cashiered for throttling the fool.”

She gave him that wry Ailith grin.

Jareth looked at her, smiling back.
She probably would, too
, he thought, at the memory of her tossing the dandy commander out of his bed. She had little patience for fools. 

Middy of the next day on the far horizon the walled city of Marakis appeared, rising up from the sands, shimmering in the heat waves from the dunes.

Those were walls.

High, they were made of glittery sandstone. The bits of mica embedded in them sparkled in the sun, the huge blocks tinted in all the shades of the desert. Although it wasn’t truly the desert, just close to it. There were palm trees and fig trees all around. Of the city within, little could be seen of the interior except for the topmost portions of the castle itself, rising up out of the center.

It was incredibly beautiful and very impressive, proof even against siege.

Ailith’s warrant got them past the Guards on the gate. The castle itself, also sandstone, glittered above them, situated at the highest point of the city.

She’d been here only once before and had been fascinated.

The bazaars of Marakis were much more interesting than the shops of the towns and cities she’d known. Everything from the scents to the sounds was different. First, it was all in the open air, beneath gaily colored draping. Secondly, alone of all of the Kingdoms, save for some small pockets in the north, the Marakisians had kept their native language. Its rhythms and cadences were unlike anything else, they rose and fell around them as they passed through the souks. Even the spices here were different, the scent of them sharper where it rose from cooking stalls. The folk here wore loose, billowing clothes in all manner of color but mostly shades of white and sand that were more like Elven robes than the trews and shirts of the Kingdoms, although some wore something like very loose trews, that belted at the waist.

Even the people were different, darker-skinned than those of the north, more like Jalila in their coloring.

Above them, the walls of the castle proper loomed large, the castle itself with more and narrower towers than she was accustomed to, each topped by a spiraling gilded dome. The courtyard they rode into was much bigger than what she was used to as well, more open and the Large windows opened all along the face of it, with fine iron-work screens covering each. The flat stones of the walls had been carved in relief, in a pattern that was like the dunes in the deep desert. A majordomo or chatelaine escorted them inside through wide oak doors bound with iron that had been carved with a pattern of basilisks, which was intriguing.