The Forgotten War (59 page)

‘Oh let me see – there is Alys, of course, and Grana the old lady, who cleans my rooms, when I allow her, and then there’s ... there’s...’ He stopped and looked at
her. ‘No, I don’t know many women.’

‘I thought not,’ she said and went back to checking the rabbits.

Shortly after, they ate. Itheya divided the rabbits into equal portions and rubbed some herbs on them that she had taken from her pack. They devoured it all hungrily. ‘Delicious, quite
delicious,’ said Cedric.

The rain became heavier and the conditions colder. They huddled in their blankets close to the fire; well, the men did, Itheya seem fairly oblivious to the cold, and she just sat there licking
the fat off her fingers. ‘Waste nothing,’ she told the men.

Once they had finished she passed round her water skin.

‘Nothing stronger?’ joked Morgan.

‘Well, I have some
zhath
in my pack.’

‘And what by the Gods is
zhath
?’

‘The wine of the elves’ There was a sardonic tone to her voice. ‘Used to clean wounds and deaden the skin for
kazhoeth
. You can even drink it, if you are brave
enough.’

‘I seem to recall you telling me how brave I was earlier on,’ said Morgan. ‘If you have some to spare, I would happily try some, if only to keep the cold at bay.’

‘Very well – you are welcome to as much of it as you want.’

She pulled a smaller skin from her pack and gave it to him. With a little trepidation he took a sip. He had a taste of spring flowers and pine needles and then his throat started to burn. Once
his eyes stopped watering, he passed it to Cedric. Cedric drank without thinking and was soon spluttering helplessly. She regarded them with some amusement in her eyes.

‘Our
melian
, our children, can handle
zhath
better than you two.’

‘Then show us how it is done.’ Morgan handed her the skin.

She drank, more deeply than the other two and showed no reaction to the drink at all. With an air of triumph she handed it back to Morgan.

The
zhath
was passed round several more times with no one refusing its potent contents. Morgan certainly felt warmer as well as a sense of euphoric happiness as the
zhath
took a
grip of his skull. Itheya gave the impression that it did not affect her at all, but he could discern a certain pink tinge to her skin and the tip of her nose which hadn’t been there before.
The effect on Cedric was a little more obvious.

‘Let me tell you both...’ He swayed a little – both Morgan and Itheya were poised to steady him – but he managed to right himself. ‘What an honour ... yes, honour.
What an honour it is for me to ... to ... Did I say it was an honour?’

‘Yes,’ said Morgan, unable to suppress a grin.

‘Yes, an honour indeed for me to have the company ... of the company I now have. You, sir, are a warrior with humanity and you, madam, are a lady ... a lady of great, er ... great elfanity
and I thank you for allowing me ...
us
... into your august realm. It is my considered opinion...’ There was no more from Cedric as he slumped on to his back and started snoring
loudly. Before Morgan could do anything Itheya was pulling his blanket over him and adjusting his head so that he would be more comfortable.

‘Concern for a human?’ Morgan was still grinning.

‘For this human, yes. He is important. If it was you, I would just take your blanket for myself and roll you on to those tree roots.’

‘Oh-ho. Now you are just being cruel.’

She ignored him. ‘I do not know how humans react to the
zhath
. He will be all right, yes?’

‘Well, he might be a bit sick in the morning and may need propping up on his horse, but apart from that, yes – just make sure he has plenty of water.’

‘I will.’ She gently pulled some hair back from Cedric’s brow and brushed his forehead tenderly. ‘Sleep well, sick man.’

‘Does he remind you of your father?’

‘In some ways – how did you see that? I am sure humans are the same but we respect our older people. Their knowledge is important, even if they are frail physically.’

‘Some humans respect the elderly; others would sell their fathers for a crown – their children, too.’

‘Really? You would describe your own people so savagely?’

‘As with everything, once you scratch the surface, it is a lot more complicated than that. Many of us are like Cedric, would help our neighbours, attempt to better themselves as the church
exhorts. I, however, have spent a large part of my life seeing the very worst that people can do. There is no greater instinct than that of survival and, to survive, people will do anything,
absolutely anything. But there is something worse than that. There are people who would do anything not out of necessity, the need to survive, but for profit, to enrich themselves at the expense of
others, and for people like that the word “savage” is far too mild.’

Itheya came over to him, crouching down to face him.

‘Something has happened to you, yes? In the past, something bad. I could sense sadness in you when I first met you. You are a fighting man who dislikes fighting. Why is that, I
wonder?’

‘I think, my Lady, that I have said enough, especially to one who regularly threatens to kill me. My troubles are not for offloading on to others.’

‘As you wish.’ She turned away from him and started warming her hands over the fire. ‘Cold, is it not? It will soon be time for winter clothing – effective, but
unflattering, at least for a woman.’

‘Well, here I am wrapped in a blanket and you just stood there in your thin leather.’ He took the blanket off himself and held it out for her to take.

She did so. ‘The leather is not that thin, but thank you.’ And then to his surprise she went and sat down right next to him putting the blanket over them both.

‘Like this, yes? We can keep each other warm.’

And warm she was. The bare skin of her arm brushed, feather light, against his hand. She pulled herself even closer to him so that they were in full contact. He had the sweet smell of the river
in his nostrils again. She spoke, as if such intimacy was incidental.

‘I believe that you both can make a good impression with my father, and with loremaster Terath. Please do not be flippant with them as you can be with me.’

‘My flippancy annoys you?’

‘No, it is just unusual for me to be spoken to that way. I am used to it now but Father will not be.’

‘What about your mother? You have never mentioned her.’

‘She is dead.’

‘I see. I am sorry.’

‘It is all right. She died bringing my brother into this world, so I never really knew her. Father misses her, though.’

She stretched out and lay flat on her back, ‘I have drunk too much.
Zhath
doesn’t get you at first – it takes time – and then when you do not expect it, it hits
your head like a charging bear.’

‘Do you all drink this stuff often?’

‘Only at festivals and on great occasions. I think meeting you two counts as a great occasion. At the Festival of High Summer we drink all day and usually wake up next morning lying next
to someone with whom we have never exchanged two words before.’

‘Sounds like the old Glaivedon harvest feast.’

She giggled, an enchanting sound even to his own dulled senses. ‘You know, if you weren’t human, I would probably end up lying with you.’

‘Does my being human make a difference?’

She looked at him, her wide eyes incredulous. ‘Yes, the very idea; to lie ... with a human?’ She collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter, rolling on to her side and pulling the
blanket over her. Morgan found himself joining in, lying flat under the canopy of leaves and branches, listening to the rain and the crackle of the fire. After some minutes she stopped and turned
to him, wiping tears from her eyes.

‘
Crizhonat ke Vheyuzheke,ve ne tulteth, em ozhotin oro benefe. Stavena vono
.’ On seeing Morgan’s look of incomprehension, she put her hand to her mouth.

‘Sorry, wrong language. I may not see you after tomorrow, but if I do I will teach you some of our words – if you still live. I am sure you will still live, but you never
know.’

‘Why not teach me some now?’

‘Because I will be asleep soon.’

‘Go on, just a couple of words.’

‘Very well, now say after me:
Presh kulk azha thenestra
.’

‘
Presh kulk azha thenestra
. Now what does it mean?’

She started giggling again. Morgan slowly realised what she was up to.

‘You are teaching me bad words, aren’t you?’

She nodded, still giggling. ‘
Stavena vono
, Morgan, forgive me; I couldn’t resist it. I will sleep now; tomorrow will not be as funny.’ She lay back and was gone in a
trice. Morgan pulled the blanket so that it covered them both and was asleep within a minute.

He was awoken the next day by the sound of Cedric coughing and spluttering into a bush. Itheya was stood next to him, her arm around him as he was doubled over. ‘Do you feel better now?
Drink some water when you can.’

Morgan sat up, rubbing his sore head. Itheya shot him an unfriendly look.

‘You said he would be all right. Can’t you see? He is poisoned.’

‘No, no, I am fine,’ said Cedric. ‘One half-hour and I will be able to ride. It has just been many years since I have drunk anything of that nature. I knew what I was doing. I
used to drink far more than what was good for me. I am old enough to make my own mistakes.’

The rain had stopped and it was warmer than yesterday. Morgan’s head felt like Keth was inside it, hammering away at his furnace. Itheya looked fresher than them both. He was dimly aware
of feeling her next to him that night – indeed, he was pretty sure that at one point her head had been resting on his chest with her arm around him – but aside from that he had been as
close to unconscious as it was possible to be. He certainly could not remember when she had got up.

‘Big day today,’ he said to her.

She nodded. ‘I hope he will be well.’

‘He will. He has been working towards this for a long time.’

She went into her pack and passed him something resembling flatbread.

‘I will help you as much as I can, but be aware that there are many of us who would happily see you to your death. Be respectful at all times. Both my father and Terath speak your tongue
as does my brother, so watch everything you say.’

‘Cedric is the important man here. I will just sit back and let him impress them.’

‘That would be good, but I suspect you may be called upon more than you think. You are a curiosity to us; we may be hostile to you but we may also wish to know of the world you come from.
Even I have many questions that I have not yet asked and may never get the chance to.’

‘You should have asked them yesterday.’

‘The
zhath
was talking more than I. I apologise if I acted inappropriately.’

‘You were fine. I apologise to you for the same thing, although personally I feel there is nothing wrong in a little inappropriateness from time to time.’

She smiled. ‘You are strange human. I am glad I have met you.’

He smiled back. ‘And I, you. Come, let’s get moving.’

A swift walk, some fresh air, a draught of water and a mouthful of bread later, Cedric declared himself fit and well and able to continue. Shortly afterwards they were all mounted and on their
way. The forest looked different in the fitful sunlight, all warm greens, yellows and browns. The leaves were falling more swiftly now; great swathes of them would swirl about the riders before
settling on the ground and, as they rode, their thoughts were frequently drowned out by the chorus of birdsong coming at them from all directions. They passed a couple of small lakes, almost hidden
by the trees, and just now and then from the corner of his eye Morgan was sure he could see figures watching them from behind the trees. When he turned to look, though, nothing could be seen.

Noon came and went and the afternoon sun started to sink behind them. Morgan was hot and saddle-sore and rather fancied stopping to rest awhile; he was about to suggest this when Itheya stopped
ahead of them.

‘Ahead and just after the bend in the road – Atem Morioka. My home. See, we will have an escort.’

He saw them. Four figures on horseback patiently waiting just where the road curved northward. As he looked, he fancied seeing a flash of silver through the trees – was it water? He
realised he knew nothing of the place they were going to.

Itheya was riding slightly ahead of the men. As they approached the escort, one of its number rode out to meet her. He, too, was dark-haired and sharp-featured and wore a dark-green cloak that
covered most of his body. Morgan could see his tattoos extended up his neck and his eyes were a more garish violet than the girl he was greeting.

‘
Satala, Itheya. Ta’zhena ne an atan pekha
.’

Morgan saw Cedric blanch slightly but control himself almost immediately.

Itheya spoke to the man. ‘
Satala, Dramalliel, zhur sessala ezho seazha nesteratsen araelveth
.’

‘I care not,’ said the man. He faced the humans. ‘I am Dramalliel, Itheya’s brother. I have met few humans and most of them I have killed. And do not trust my sister; she
has killed more than I. Follow me.’

His grasp of the language was not as comprehensive as Itheya’s and his accent more pronounced. Itheya shot both men an unhappy look before following her brother down the path. Cedric
leaned over to Morgan.

‘He called us grubs, or worms; obviously another uncomplimentary name for us. Prepare yourself – we will be walking on egg shells from now on.’

They trotted around the long sloping bend and slowly Atem Morioka revealed itself to them.

As Morgan suspected, they were facing a broad still lake, bordered by trees, at least a mile wide. The wind had subsided and barely a ripple disturbed its tranquil surface. Before the lake,
starting at the point they now stood, was a broad green lawn covered in thick fresh grass. Pitched upon it were a series of tents, or rather pavilions, in a variety of colours. For some reason
Morgan expected everything to be green but nothing could be further from the truth, for their coverings were coloured in blues, reds and golds. Some had two colours running down them in broad
stripes; others were plain. Large flags hung limply from the tent poles, many of them green and gold in colour, leaving Morgan to guess that these were the colours of the tribe.