The Destroyer Book 4 (58 page)

But it was too late now.

I crested the final slope of the mountains and surveyed the valley below. It was dusk, and though the last sliver of the orange sun would soon disappear behind the distant crags, there was still enough light to cast a warm radiance across the land. A river ran through the far side of the valley, winding through miles of long grass dotted with graceful maple and pine trees. I had seen immeasurable beauty during my long search for Iolarathe, but as I looked upon the idyllic scene that stretched out for miles beneath me, I wanted to set down my bags, rest, and soak in the view.

This also could have been because I was carrying several hundred pounds of supplies for Nyarathe and had been traveling the endless wilderness for the last six weeks in search of this place.

The woman had told me to get a horse or a mule to carry the load, but an extra animal would mean another mouth to feed, take care of, and protect from predators. It would have slowed me down and forced me to stick to roads and trails. So I had carried the burden across the Salt Desert that surrounded Deadflats. I could lug it another thousand miles.

Iolarathe’s sister had told me that this was a small village of Elvens. I was delivering mostly salt, but also ink, seeds, and various documents about where her people were hidden. She did not warn me against studying the papers, but she didn’t need to. We both understood that my only concern was reaching Iolarathe and I cared nothing for hunting Elvens anymore.

I did want to set down my burden for a few minutes and take in the glory of the setting sun, but now that I was so close to my destination the thought of becoming one step closer to my lover drove me down the dangerous path toward the foot of the mountain. The weight that pressed down on my shoulders with an unforgiving malice suddenly felt lighter and the ice-cold wind that pierced these peaks no longer bothered me.

I carried a spear in my left hand that I had occasionally used for hunting, but mostly as a walking aid. It served the latter purpose excellently and gave me some additional stabilization when I traversed the steep slopes.

My army had always avoided this area, finding the treacherous peaks too difficult to navigate. The mountain range lay on the coastline, and we had believed the mountains shielded nothing but the sea that circled the world and met on the other side of the continent. Even if we had known of this hidden valley, we would not have risked exploring here.

The light was fading quickly from the side of the mountain but I could carry enough speed down the rocky switchbacks to stay ahead of the encroaching darkness. Most of the valley below me was already cloaked in the shadow of the mountains to the west. This allowed me to see the light coming from camp and hearth fires. I had not noticed the buildings from the top of the mountains; by now the Elvens had grown as skilled at hiding their presence as my army had been in the days of our inception. Their roofs blended seamlessly into the grass of the meadows and the branches of the forest.

I heard them rise out of the grass and pull back their bowstrings before they spoke. Nyarathe had prepared me for the words they would say as a coded test of loyalty: “It is a cold night, stranger. Do you have a place to stay?”

There were twenty of them, all Elvens and all with short bows. For a flash of a second something deep inside of my mind screamed to destroy them all, but I forced the instinct back into the pit of my stomach like one would kick at a raving, rabid dog.

“I do not have a place to stay. Nyarathe told me that I should ask the Dead Gods for shelter,” I repeated the words that Iolarathe’s sister made me memorize.

The group stood still for a few minutes and then the male who had spoken lowered his bow slowly and the rest followed.

“Our mistress makes strange allies. Those mountains are a difficult trek to make as a human, and that load looks extremely heavy. Are you one of the O’Baarni?” A few of the Elvens raised their arrows at me again.

“Yes, but I am no enemy. I owe someone a favor and am looking for a few in return.”

“What favors do you seek?”

“A few warm meals and a bed would be a start. It has been many nights since Deadflats.” The man was still far away from me and I fought to keep my nerves steady. I had asked Nyarathe if I would have any problems delivering her shipment as an O’Baarni, but she confirmed that I would be safe.

As long as I didn’t tell them my name.

“Very well, O’Baarni. Follow us. We have beds and plenty of food for you. What name are you known by?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The Elven man studied me again and then nodded. He wore a dark brown cloak over his head, but there was enough twilight to see his gold hair and emerald eyes.

“Will you hand over your weapon?”

“Of course. Although I use it mostly to aid in my walking.” I extended my left arm with the spear and then one of the Elvens carefully took it from my grip.

“Do you have any other weapons?”

“A knife for skinning and another for shaving. They are in my packs.” He nodded at my words and studied me for a few more seconds.

I expected him to ask another question, but instead he turned and walked toward the group of lights. The rest of the Elvens circled me at a comfortable distance and seemed to meld into the darkness. If not for the beating of their hearts and the soft sounds of their clothing passing through the long grass, I would not have been able to discern their presence.

Shortly we came to the village. There were dozens, perhaps even a hundred small dwellings hidden amongst grass and orchard trees. The scent of fruit and vegetables filled the air, the late autumn harvest was under way.

Cloaked forms roamed the maintained pathways between the homes and spoke in gentle whispers. There were a few bouts of controlled laughter as I passed, but none of them were aimed in my direction. If anything, the Elven inhabitants of this village didn’t even seem to notice my passing. After a few twists and turns through the labyrinth of dwellings we arrived at a simple stone cottage made of stacked river stones and thick wooden beams topped with a steep thatched roof.

“Are you hungry now, O’Baarni? Or would you prefer to rest?” the Elven man with the green eyes asked.

“I would be thankful for food and water. There is some among my supplies I can eat if you do not have any to spare.” The man had said earlier that they had food, but we passed a significant number of their kind on the way here and I did not want to impose on them.

“Please take off your packs. You may rest inside and food shall be delivered. There is a chamber pot if you need to relieve yourself. We will have guards at the door and they will exchange it for a clean one at your request.” I shrugged off my packs and one of the larger Elven bowmen hoisted it onto his back. Before he could leave I grabbed a few of the smaller kits that contained my toiletries and clothes. Then the Elven carried the rest into the darkness. My guide gestured to the cottage and I opened the thick wooden door and entered.

It was a simple place: twenty feet by perhaps thirty; two thick vertical beams of wood supported the roof and a comfortable hammock swung between them. One corner had a chimney and modest fireplace with a pot and hanging hook for cooking. Next to this was a long table. I saw the chamber pot in the other corner next to a plentiful stack of firewood. There was also an assortment of quilts and other blankets that hung from a rope running from one of the beams to a wall. A small desk sat in the last corner, topped with an oil lamp, pile of parchments, ink vial, and quill.

“This is our guest home. Please be welcome. A friend of Nyarathe is a friend of ours. Even if he is an O’Baarni. Our leader may wish to speak with you, but will wait until after you have eaten.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and left. I felt uncomfortably light without my burden. I hated waiting and now I would have to abide by the Elven timetable.

But at least they had not attacked me.

I paced the small cottage for a few minutes and then sat on the hammock. It was comfortable and I had to pry myself out of its embrace to keep from falling asleep. I had not believed that I was exhausted, but spending time in the wilderness traveling, running from my kin, and tracking Iolarathe never gave me a chance to fully relax. The muffled conversations of the Elvens and the babble of the distant river were soothing. I knew if I dared to touch the hammock again I would quickly fall asleep. Maybe for days.

There was a constant shuffle of footsteps and whispers outside of the cottage and I occupied myself for a few moments attempting to make sense of the conversations. Most of it was small talk of weather, harvest plans, and salutations. I listened half-heartedly for a quarter of an hour and then decided to occupy myself with lighting a fire in the hearth. As soon as I finished stacking the wood and set it ablaze there was a knock on the door.

“Greetings, O’Baarni. I have brought you dinner.” The woman stepped into my cottage and I felt the air leave my lungs.

All the Elvens had a graceful beauty to them. They were slender, with smooth skin, well-formed muscles, and luxurious hair. They were elegantly-featured, with sharp almond-shaped eyes and delicate pointed ears. Iolarathe was the most beautiful woman of their kind and perhaps having the memory of her murdering my family had kept me from granting the rest of her species any sort of forgiveness.

The woman that stood before me was just as beautiful as my lover. Her hair was a dark black that shimmered blue in the firelight. Her eyes were also blue, deep like the darkest part of the sea and just as full of mystery. Her skin was the color of light honey and looked as delicious. She wore a dark green cloak over a tan tunic and leather pants. In her arms she held a tray laden with metal covers and a pitcher of water. I could smell the scent of roasted meat and cooked vegetables, but for a brief second I wasn’t hungry for food.

She moved with such grace, she seemed to float into the cottage. I took a few steps back; her movements were so smooth they almost seemed unnatural. She set the tray down on the table next to the fireplace and then stood before me again. Her eyes never left mine and my heart began to race.

“I’ve served you a roast pork loin with buttered sprouts mixed with garlic, salt, oranges, and cranberries. There are is also a baked yam and a sugared apple for dessert.” She didn’t take her eyes from mine while she spoke and my head began to spin.

“Thank you. It is very kind of you.” My mouth was dry and I felt incredibly thirsty.

“Will you require anything else tonight?”

“No. Thank you again.” I forced the sentence out and tried to tear myself from the unnerving beauty of her gaze.

“When will you be leaving us?” The words could have been meant in many different ways, but she seemed more curious than demanding.

“Tomorrow morning. I hope to speak to your leader before I leave. I was told that I would be given information.”

“Who told you that?”

“Nyarathe.” My head felt like it was lifting off the ground and I struggled to pull myself back to the wood floor of the cottage. I focused on the smell of the food and it helped to divert my attention from the woman’s stare.

“What do you wish to know, O’Baarni?” My vision cleared and my brain fought through the effects this woman’s presence had on me.

“You are the leader here?” I already knew the answer.

“Perhaps.” She smiled and I was back in control of my emotions. She was still very beautiful, but my wits were not impacted anymore.

“I wish to find Iolarathe,” I said. The woman continued to stare into my eyes but made no movement to indicate that my request surprised her.

“Why?”

“I love her and want to spend the rest of my days with her.” I debated lying, or telling the blue-eyed Elven that it was my own business. Honesty seemed like the best strategy though. This Elven had a power I could sense and I wanted her as a friend and not an enemy.

“That is a good answer, Kaiyer.” She smiled and the room grew twice as bright. I told no one my name. Nyarathe must have left a note explaining who I was secured in the baggage I carried. I never bothered to search the contents, but it did not matter. My mission was to find Iolarathe and not to understand what methods the Elvens were using to keep themselves hidden from my people.

“I am glad you approve. Will you tell me?” I asked.

“Please eat or your food will get cold. We can talk while you dine.” She indicated the plate and I moved over to the table.