Wild Blood (Book 7) (19 page)

Lahti patted his hand.

“She lives, and she’s but a short journey away, closer than she’s been in sixteen years,” she said encouragingly. “Now that you know, we needn’t rush away at the first opportunity. We’ll have time to make a plan to slip away when Dusk and his winged messengers become a little less vigilant.”

Val found her reasoning less than perfect, but there was no use in saying it. Neither did he tell Lahti that in one respect he had to agree with Rowan: He no longer had any intention of taking Lahti with him, not if he had to creep away from Inner Heart against Rowan’s wishes. Rowan and Dusk would surely know where he was going, and they’d send word to Hawk’s Eye by way of one of Dusk’s birds. If the Hawk’s Eyes found Val and Lahti in their territory, they’d capture Lahti and likely Valann, too—oh, most respectfully, of course—and take them back to Inner Heart. And even if Val and Lahti could slip unseen through Hawk’s Eye’s lands, Val could scarcely take Lahti to the human city. Unlike the elves, humans placed no special value on fertility and pregnancy; Rowan had told him as much, and that meant that Lahti’s pregnancy would not keep her from harm in the human city. The prospect of taking her with him into hostile territories when Lahti was still a child had been almost unthinkable; he certainly would not risk taking her into much greater danger now that she was pregnant. But there was no use in saying that, either; Lahti would only argue, or say nothing and find a way to follow him as she had before. No, this time he would have to find a way not only to elude Dusk’s watchers, but Lahti as well.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said, sighing again. “But I’m relieved to learn that my sister’s alive.”

Lahti lay down comfortably on the furs beside him.

“Isn’t that a fine cause for celebration?” she smiled.

“But even better than that,” Val said deliberately, “is the child you’ll bear. What greater cause of celebration could there be?”

Lahti laughed with delight and came eagerly to his arms.

Chapter Nine—Ria

By midday Ria was rather less hopeful than she’d been the night before. Under the guise of studying Allanmere’s history, she’d perused the maps made of the forest area during the invasion. According to those maps, the road to the center of the forest should have been just where Ria had looked for it. The territory Lord Sharl and Lady Rivkah had approached on the south side of the forest should have belonged to the Brightwater clan, too, and not the Blue-eyes. Obviously a great deal had changed in the forest in sixteen years. There was no knowing where it might be safe to enter the forest, where Ria might encounter elves who might help her, or at least not try to shoot her full of arrows before she could even tell them what she wanted. Of course, that might have happened simply because of Cyril’s presence. She couldn’t risk a similar misunderstanding; this time she’d have to slip away without his help and knowledge, or he’d certainly insist on accompanying her. No, all she could hope was that he was mage enough to cast a healing spell so she could walk, and the rest would be up to her.

Of more interest were the accounts kept by Lord Sharl and Lady Rivkah of their experiences with the elves—in the forest, and among the elves who had stayed in the city during the invasion. Lady Rivkah had taught both Cyril and Ria all of the elven customs and rituals that she’d learned, and she’d told them both wonderful stories of what she’d seen in the forest, but the notes told the stories Lady Rivkah
hadn’t
shared—stories of elves dancing naked by the firelight or running naked through the rain, coupling out in the open in broad daylight or in groups in their huts. It appeared that the elves were very interested indeed in reproduction—including all of its preliminaries. Ria chuckled. Just the sort of thing Lady Rivkah
wouldn’t
have told two curious children.

At the same time, however, Ria felt a vague sense of disappointment. So the elves
were
just as concerned with coupling and kissing and other such odd behavior as the humans were. She’d somehow hoped that her elven kin would behave more sensibly. Apparently that was not the case. Why, then was Ria different? Was it because of her odd mixture of bloods?

“What are you reading?” Cyril asked idly, glancing up from the grimoire he was studying.

“Just some old histories,” Ria said, hurriedly shutting the book. She felt warmth flood into her cheeks. It was hard even to meet his eyes this morning after last night’s dream. “Why?”

“You were laughing,” Cyril said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought it might be something interesting.”

“No, not very,” Ria said with forced casualness, placing the book back on the shelf where she’d found it. Somehow she didn’t want Cyril reading what she’d read about the elves. Who knew what kind of ideas those passages might put into his head? “What about you? Are you finding what you wanted?”

“Mmm-hmmm. Come and look, if you want.”

Ria limped over with the aid of the crutch Lady Rivkah had given her and looked. She’d expected a magical grimoire to be more elegant-looking, perhaps more—well, mysterious. It was only a large book, however, with a scuffed and battered leather cover, with neat writing covering the parchment. Interspersed with the script were a few arcane diagrams and sketches, and less identifiable symbols.

“That’s it?” Ria asked disappointedly. She pointed to an odd-looking pattern of converging lines and curves. Trying to follow the intricate patterns with her eyes made her feel vaguely dizzy. “What’s that?”

“That’s the lattice structure of magical energies,” Cyril said. “It’s not as complicated as I was afraid it would be. I’ll show you a really tough one.” He leafed back a few pages and pointed. “Look at this one.”

Ria glanced at the pattern and gasped, hurriedly grasping the edge of the table as the world seemed to spin dizzily. Her stomach heaved, and for a moment she thought she might vomit; when her vision cleared, Cyril had closed the book and risen to his feet, supporting her with one strong arm around her waist.

“What’s the matter?” he asked worriedly. “Here, sit down.”

“I don’t know.” Ria was only too glad to let Cyril help her down to the stool he had previously occupied. “I just looked at that thing and it—it made me sick to look at it.”

“Oh?” Cyril’s eyebrows lifted. “You must have a little magic in you yourself, even if it’s not enough for magery, or it wouldn’t have affected you. I always thought you might have a little of the gift, the way you seem to disappear sometimes, but if Mother had thought you had enough to train, she’d have—well, sorry, I didn’t know. Anyway, the healing spell’s simple enough. I’d try it even without a familiar if I could practice first on some of the livestock. I’ll try linking up with Jenji tonight, and if that works well, I’ll have the materials for the healing spell with me.” He glanced down at Ria’s bandaged leg. “Still want to trust me with it?”

“If you knew how this hurts,” Ria said wryly, “you wouldn’t ask. I can usually get potions for the pain, but then all I do is sleep all the time. Which your mother would probably like, but I’m just—”

“—too stubborn to sit still and quietly take her punishment,” Cyril said. “I can’t say I would, either. All right. Ready for me to help you back to your room? It’s almost time for dinner.”

“You don’t have to,” Ria said hastily. There were a good many stairs between the library and her room, and Ria had stifled several yelps of pain nobbling to the library that morning; tired now, she had no confidence in her ability to make the trip again. She wanted Cyril to go on without her, so he wouldn’t witness the indignity of Ria having to call a servant and ask him to carry her back.

“I don’t mind.” Cyril handed Ria the book, then looped her arm around his shoulders; before Ria realized what he was doing, he’d slid his free hand under her knees and lifted her from the chair. “Oof. You’re heavier than I thought.”

“It’s not me,” Ria protested, embarrassed. “It’s this book that weighs almost as much as I do.”

Cyril kindly refrained from any further criticism, although he was wheezing unflatteringly by the time he reached Ria’s room. Whether because of his own embarrassment at the effort it took him to carry the tiny Ria (plus the weighty book) or because of his eagerness to start his preparation for the spells, Cyril left quickly, and Ria was once again alone with Jenji and her thoughts. She hoped to nap until Cyril returned—the pain and exertion after days of bed rest had all but exhausted her—but she’d hardly more than settled herself when Lizette appeared with her dinner and insisted on sitting and watching Ria eat every bite; then Lady Rivkah intruded to tend Ria’s leg. The High Lady appeared to be in a more sympathetic mood this afternoon, and to Ria’s surprise she was wearing her plain tunic and trousers instead of her surcoat.

“You were wanting to see the market,” Lady Rivkah said as she smoothed the wrinkles out of the bandage around Ria’s leg. “You’ve been so miserable here in your room, I thought you might enjoy a ride through the rebuilt parts of the city. I’ve arranged a cart, if you aren’t too tired after your morning in the library.”

As tired as she’d been, and as angry as she’d been at Lady Rivkah, the prospect of going
outside,
even for a moment, was the most wonderful idea Ria had ever heard.

“I’d like that,” Ria said eagerly. Then she stopped. “But why a cart? Won’t a carriage be better?”

“Because we haven’t gotten a carriage made yet,” Lady Rivkah said matter-of-factly, patting Ria’s shoulder, “and likely won’t for some time, not when there are so many more important things to be done. Some of the roads are still too blocked for a carriage to get through, besides, but a small cart should be fine. Sharl’s been all around the city, but I’ve hardly had a chance for a good look myself, so if you don’t mind a simple, probably bumpy cart and me for your driver, we’ll go now.”

Ria was out of the bed so quickly that her leg’s quick change of position from horizontal to vertical brought tears of pain to her eyes. Lady Rivkah kindly refrained from laughing at her charge’s discomfort, and spared her foster daughter’s pride, too, by helping Ria down the stairs to the front hall herself, where a narrow pony cart had been pulled up almost to the door. Ria settled herself as comfortably as possible, fuming at the delay while Lady Rivkah tucked pillows under her legs. Jenji took his favorite perch on Ria’s shoulder, dancing from paw to paw in his excitement at being outside. It was wonderful just to breathe the fresh air and feel the warm sun on her skin, but she wanted to get as far from the keep as she could, if only for a few hours.

The cart ride was as bumpy as Lady Rivkah had predicted, and Ria was quickly glad for the cushioning pillows; she was soon forced to transfer Jenji to her lap to avoid being constantly throttled by the chirrit’s tail around her neck. To Ria’s disappointment, Lady Rivkah avoided the eastern section of the city nearest the forest—that would have been a good opportunity to look for probable escape routes—because the eastern and southern sections were still in the poorest condition.

“What are all those buildings?” Ria asked, pointing to the large open area at the northeast end of the city. There were only a few structures there, and only two had been rebuilt.

“Those were temples,” Lady Rivkah told her. “There are only the two active now, devoted to the gods Urex and Vittmar the Weeper.”

“Why put them all the way over there by themselves?” Ria wondered.

“That was Sharl’s idea,” Lady Rivkah said. “He believes that because of all the merchants and traders who will come through Allanmere, many priests will want to build temples here, and he planned a whole section of the city for them to use. Someday there may be dozens of temples in our city, and the influx of worshippers will help increase trade, too.”

Ria was relatively uninterested in temples, as she was in what Lady Rivkah told her would one day be houses for the nobility just south of the keep. There’d be a whole district for merchants and their shops directly to the east, but for now only the market was in good enough condition for daily use.

The market itself held only a few stalls and carts, and a few vendors selling their wares out of baskets, but Ria was excited, having never been allowed to visit Cielman’s market where, according to Lord Sharl, thieves and other unsavory types were all too common.

“It’s such a large area,” Ria marveled. “How will anybody ever fill it up?”

“Well, there are only a few merchants here now, and of course it’s too early in the year for most of the farmers to bring their crops in to sell,” Lady Rivkah told her. “But if ships start docking at our city, there’ll be goods sold here from northern and southern ports, and brought in by caravan from the east, too. Someday this market will be completely full, Sharl says, of merchants selling goods we can’t even imagine now.”

A number of the peasants in the market turned to stare as the cart passed through, and Ria was surprised and dismayed to see how many of those stares seemed hostile, even disgusted, when they were directed at her.

“What’s the matter with them?” Ria whispered, nudging Lady Rivkah. “Why are they looking at me like that? I don’t even know them.”

Lady Rivkah did not answer, but her lips firmed into a thin white line and she turned the cart around immediately—not, however, before an old man nearby muttered something and spat in Ria’s direction. Ria gasped, as stunned as if she’d been struck, Jenji chattered indignantly and bared his tiny sharp teeth, and Lady Rivkah quickly urged the pony to a faster pace out of the market.

“What?” Lady Rivkah asked as soon as they’d gotten some distance away. “What did he say? I couldn’t make it out.”

“He said, ‘Filthy swine-humping elves,’” Ria said in a small voice. “Why did he say that? I’ve never done anything to him. I’m not dirty and I’ve never—never done
that,
not with a pig or anything else!” Waves of hurt and confusion nearly dizzied her.

Lady Rivkah’s lips pinched even thinner and her brows drew down in the scowl that had always sent Ria scurrying out of the High Lady’s way. When she spoke, her voice was tight and controlled.

“There are a few in the city like that—angry folk who have had a loved one hurt or killed by the elves, probably when they went too close to the forest, or who have simply believed every rumor they’ve heard about the elves and how they live. Thank the gods there aren’t many who feel that way. But there are many beliefs to be unlearned, by us and by the elves, too, before the two will ever understand each other. That man and others like him, Ria, that’s why Allanmere needs you as its High Lady, or one day that hatred will destroy us more surely than any barbarian invasion will.”

She shook her head resolutely.

“I shouldn’t have taken you into the city alone, not until Sharl’s announced the wedding,” she said with a sigh. “Don’t bother yourself about it right now, Ria. By the time of the wedding, hopefully folk like that will have gotten used to the idea of an elven High Lady and you won’t have any trouble.”

Ria said nothing. She hadn’t wanted to be High Lady before; knowing that some of the people of Allanmere would hate her, even though she’d done nothing to earn their hatred, certainly didn’t make the idea any more attractive.

Lady Rivkah was angry and silent all the way back to the keep, and Ria was glad to return to her room and rest. At least there’d be time to nap after all her exertion and think for a bit before Cyril came, something she hadn’t had a chance to do since she’d talked to her foster brother this morning.

Cyril’s announcement that he might be able to heal her leg that very night was welcome, but at the same time it caused certain problems she hadn’t thought about before. If Lady Rivkah or some other healer was tending her leg every night, that meant that Ria would have to leave that night if she wanted to get a few hours’ lead before someone noticed she was gone. There’d be no chance to stockpile food or supplies, and she’d have to hope that her don’t-see-me would keep the guards from observing her. Ria was far from sure she could do it, but there was nothing to do but try, and precious little to lose by trying. She’d never be permitted anywhere near the forest before she was married to Cyril.