The Coming Storm (93 page)

Looking at them, dark and dark, with Elon’s smooth grace, his body shifting to show the stance and Colath watching Olend’s attempt, making small corrections, Ailith couldn’t help but feel content. She glanced over at the veranda where Jareth smoked his pipe with Jalila watching with interest from the sidelines and Itan curled up in a chair to do the same and smiled.

This, today, was all.

It was the third time a story like this one had come to Daran’s attention. As such things went, the rumor changed, shifted, become something darker. What had happened on the plain began to take another shape. Wild rumors, wild magic. Old fears blended with new. Questions had been raised that demanded answers. Those answers raised new questions. The answers to those questions raised new fears and reawakened old ones.

It didn’t bode well.

Steps had to be taken, were being taken.

The Dwarves would hear those stories soon. They wouldn’t take it well. Once they did, there would be no stopping it. Blood would be shed. The Alliance would suffer. Daran High King considered it and then sent a message to Eliade of Alatheriann, second of the Three.

While he waited, he considered it.

It would be difficult and it would have to be handled quietly and quickly, very quietly, lest anyone learn of it. That must not happen. There were other whispers as well, ones that would do no one any good. This was the best for all, a clean break. By the time it was known, it would be done and honor be damned. A reminder, too, of who was High King and First of the Three.

When Eliade arrived, he told her what he had heard.

Eliade wasn’t surprised by Daran’s request to see her. She’d heard the whispers, too. Those whispers and others.

As a rule, she didn’t have much truck with the race of men. She was old enough to remember the last days of the wizard wars, the early days when the Kingdoms were being forged.

Those had been dark times.

Daran’s predecessors had often used her people and the Dwarves to redirect the aggression so common among men and to distract them while they forged the alliances that had become the Kingdoms.

Alatheriann had been close and an easy target.

Some of her people, though, did come in contact with men, for trade of goods and items her people couldn’t produce in the quantities they needed. Those folk heard and repeated.

What she heard unsettled and disturbed her. Some raised memories not easily forgotten. Others hinted at associations that shouldn’t be.

As was common among his race, Daran was known for his liquid and chancy concept of honor, for his plotting and scheming. It had served him well among his own folk in forging this Alliance between them, her own people and the Dwarves. For the first time, until this war, they had had peace between them.

To keep that peace, it was necessary to forge ties to those of the race of men and to the Dwarves as well. However, there was such a thing as too close. They had seen the results of that too often in the past.

“We must be sure, Daran,” she said. Elven honor would demand no less.

Daran hid a smile. He nodded. “My people are looking now, to be sure.”

“If it’s to be done, it must be done carefully.”

Dispassionately, Eliade looked at him. He thought she couldn’t see what he was about. At this moment, he reminded her of a hawk on the stoop, closing in on the kill. Or so he thought. She would do much to protect her own while still doing that which was necessary to protect all of them. To keep and save this peace, for the sake of her own people.

Looking at him coolly, she waited to hear what he would say. When he was finished, she nodded slowly. She had qualms but put them aside.

It was necessary.

“This must be done carefully.”

The arrangements were made. A week, maybe, before they returned north. Elon was looking forward to it. With no urgency, this time they would make the trip slowly, stopping to camp on the way. Take their time.

Winter had begun to filter far into the heartlands as well as the Northern reaches, it would hold strongly by the time they arrived at Aerilann. Not that it would matter to those within the Veil, since the wards would hold the worst weather out. In the village, where those of the Hunters and Woodsmen who were men lived, it would be more of a trial. Ailith shrugged it aside with her easy smile. She’d known many winters in Riverford, harsh and soft and knew the ways of both.

It would be good to be home again, among his own people.

Even in winter the Enclave was green and always beautiful, a starker beauty than in the other seasons but beautiful nonetheless. The snow would come softly, sifting through the Veil to dust the vines and bushes and coat the ground before it melted. Winter flowers would peep from beneath drifts of fall leaves, or from beneath the branches of bushes. 

Elon wanted to show Ailith Aerilann, knowing how much she’d loved Talesin’s small vale. He wanted to show her Aerilann and why he loved it. Although she couldn’t live there among his folk, he had hopes she could visit often.

The feeling of impending doom still hovered, though, his foresight tingled. He would be grateful once they were safely out of the city.

He looked up to where Ailith sat cross-legged on the wall above his head, oiling the leather of her scabbards, especially the harness of her longsword, to keep it supple so it wouldn’t chafe or break. The wind played with her hair, sent tendrils to dance around her face. Idly, she brushed at one with the back of her wrist, to keep the oil out of it.

Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced down to smile at him.

“I’ll have to go into the city and get some more oil soon,” she said, “we’re running low. Are you certain you’re comfortable there?”

“Yes,” he said.

He was quite comfortable, his back was against the seaward wall, his legs stretched out before him, she and Colath were close and their friends were all around.

Colath and Jalila tended to like chores but Ailith had agreed to work on his weapons harness as well since her hands were already covered with oil.

The hardest part of the trip north would be when they got there. Here she was around every day, as were Colath, Jareth and Jalila. Once north, they would have to part somewhat and that would be hard after so much time so close. Colath, of course, would be at his side but frequently off working with the Hunters, whose command he had. Ailith would be in the village. Her duties with the Hunters would draw Jalila outside the Veils and into the hills doing her duty there. Avila would no doubt summon Jareth back to the Collegium. Elon was surprised that she hadn’t already, but there was still need here, with the last of the borderland creatures still loose.

They would be close, though, all of them, within a days ride.

“His Majesty calls,” Jareth said, rolling his eyes as he stepped out on the veranda.

Another summons from Daran.

Elon sighed.

He’d hoped to be allowed some little time to rest, a little time to relax. Knowing his duty, he did it and more, riding out almost every day on some errand or another of Daran’s, or being summoned to consult with him. The war had ravaged the north as well as Olend’s Marakis here in the south and there were repairs and reparations that had to be made.

Colath looked at him. “Will you need me?”

Given the demands on his time, Colath frequently accompanied him, or took on tasks for him. Without needing to be asked, Ailith had taken on some of those chores that either he or Colath no longer had time for, as now. He found himself turning to her more and more, especially where it concerned the affairs of men.

Elon shook his head. “I think not, Colath, not until I know what it is Daran wants.”

There was nothing Colath could say, except to offer what he already had. He nodded.

Looking down at Elon sympathetically, Ailith offered him her hand to steady him as he got to his feet and brushed the grass from his clothes. He didn’t need it but took it all the same.

“Dinner will be waiting when you return,” she said and smiled. “Olend and Itan are coming, they have news from Marakis.”

That lightened his mood, somewhat.

As he was leaving the Court once again Eliade stopped him.

“I would ask, Elon,” she said, “if I could borrow Colath for a time?”

Colath? Borrow
? He was puzzled.

“Why?” It was an unusual request.

“My Hunters have gone to Alatheriann, I need someone to help work with the new ones here. After the battle on the plain I don’t wish to be caught so short-handed again. We were overstretched. Colath has that experience.”

Which was true, although it was still an unusual although not unreasonable request.

“It’s his choice,” Elon said, “but I will ask.”

“The assistance would be appreciated. And to you also, to lend him to me. We would need him a week, maybe a little more.”

That was more on the order of a firm request, which was very unusual among their folk.

Something disquieting moved through the bonds of empathy but Elon could find no reason to object.

Perhaps Eliade was spending too much time around Daran.

“We were intending to return to Aerilann within the week.”

Inclining her head, Eliade seemed to take that as affirmation. “I’ll try to return him to you before then.”

There was no means to protest and Colath would be back in time for them to depart. The request was still unusual. It bothered him, implying somehow that Colath was at his orders, which Eliade knew very well he wasn’t.

“I’ll ask, Eliade,” he repeated.

“Thank you, Elon,” she responded and continued on to her own audience with the King.

Colath, too, looked ill at ease with the request but it would have been discourteous to refuse it.

Reluctantly, he packed a few things and went to see what it was that Eliade would need.

“Where’s Colath going?” Ailith asked.

It still felt odd.

“Eliade asked if he could come help with some new Hunters. She asked if he could be attached to her for a few days.”

Surprised, Ailith said, “Is that usual?”

He shook his head, disturbed as well. “No. In light of the losses of the war, though, we couldn’t in courtesy refuse.”

With a sigh, she said, “I’ll miss doing the forms with him in the morning.”

As would he. It had become a part of their daily routine, doing the forms at the start of each day.

“It’s been a long time since we sparred together, just you and I,” he said.

Her eyes lit up.

The thought of it pleased him as well, added a touch of brightness to lighten Colath’s departure. Not having his true-friend at his back had left an absence there. At least he would return for the dinner tonight, before returning to Eliade’s train.

“It has,” she said, with a smile. “If I remember right you said I would soon be as good as Colath and not long after be as good as you.”

Elon smiled. “I think you met that goal and surpassed it the first time we three did the forms together. To meet Colath and I together and hold your own with and against us, and more… It will be interesting to see what happens when it’s only you and I.”

“It will.”

The anticipation nearly erased the uneasiness raised by the odd looks Ailith saw when she walked through the city, as she had when she’d gone to buy the oil. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, only the occasional furtive look or a glancing away. Sometimes they seemed curious, sometimes simply strange.

Otherwise, in less than a week, they would be gone. North and safe. The odd looks would fade from memory. It wouldn’t be Riverford but perhaps she could make a home for herself there. Finally, too and at long last, she would see Aerilann and from a closer distance than in someone else’s nightmare. She truly wanted to see this place Elon and Colath loved so much it pained them to part from it. The place that turned Jareth into a bard.

Dinner that night was pleasant, only shadowed by Colath’s imminent return to Eliade’s apartments and his posting among the Hunters there.