Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (30 page)

“
The only shame I feel is not having assisted Janantar in his combat, Prince Kalandar.” There came a soft chuckle from above as Janantar began to lower himself slowly down the rope. “I am Andrak, Son of Dhoric, of the line Temorial.”

“
Well met, Andrak Son of Dhoric. It is long since we had a visitor of the noble blood here in Lloreander. It seems you have chosen a less than pleasant time to vis-" The muffled groan from above was the only warning as Kalandar stepped forward. Andrak baulked, thinking the Elf meant to strike at him, but the silver- haired Elf was in the motion of catching the falling Janantar. The Prince caught the Bladesinger lightly.

“
I had expected such from a human, Janantar, but this is most characteristic. I would think the Shadowspawn took more out of you- Hsssss!” The Prince's light words cut off as he shook the unresponsive Janantar softly, loosening the Bladesingers hand from the wound at his side. Andrak could not see the dark blood of the wound Janantar had received, but he thought he did see a reflection off slick cloth in the dim light from above. It was obvious Kalandar could see the wound clearly.

“
I had not expected the wound to be so bad. The fool played it off like a scratch, but even he should have known better.” The Prince turned to the other Elves then. “Get a litter, quickly.” Two of the elves hastily began to climb the rope back up onto the platform as Kalandar lowered Janantar to the forest floor. Andrak took a step towards the prone Elf, but the Elf Prince thrust out an arm to prevent him. The two elves were already atop the platform, the rope no more than an inconvenience for their nimble forms.

“
He needs space, Andrak. The weapons of the Shadowspawn are forged in the pits of hell itself, and many are known to carry this taint. This one obviously carried it more than most, for this wound should be of no more hurt than a scratch, but already it festers and decays. Such cankerous wounds kill quickly, for their taint already drifts into the bloodstream. We must get him to a Healer, fast.” He turned to shout up at the platform in Elvin, but Andrak translated the hurried Elvin speech as something along the lines of
'hurry up with that litter',
with a few extra colorful words thrown in for emphasis. As if on cue, the two Elves appeared and dropped a bundled stretcher down, which two more Elves caught easily and set down beside Janantar.

“
We must travel quickly. If you cannot keep up, four of my group shall stay with you, but he must be in Lloreander by morning.” Andrak nodded, and while two Elves carefully lifted Janantar onto the stretcher, Kalandar pointed out four of his men that would be the ones to stay with Andrak. The two elves dropped lightly from the rope ten feet off the ground while Kalandar and three others took up corners of the litter. “Ildar! Elbrek! Scout the best path for us. Any unnecessary roughage will only exacerbate the wound.” Two elves stepped out to the fore and darted into the darkness, while another stepped beside Andrak and produced one of those small glow-globes Janantar had used. He handed it to the Prince.

“
Do not injure yourself in trying to keep up, Andrak. Kalandar and the others will have Janantar in Lloreander by the morning, but it will not be pleasing if we have to do the same for you if you break a leg.” They could not have known the irony of his joke as Andrak rubbed his newly healed leg, but he gave a wordless nod, not feeling any humor at this point in time. He looked around and found Kalandar and the others were already moving, and he began after them, as the four Elves surrounded him.

The globe was enough to provide adequate light, though the shadows of depressions were often treacherous. He had always run well and prided himself on his athletic ability, so he clutched the globe and forced himself after the Elvin shadows before him. He would not stay a moment longer in this forest, even with four Elvin escorts, having seen what these shadows could do, and he was not even sure there weren't others moving around them even as they ran. Such worries faded, however, as his desperate running made him focus on the dark path the Elves were following. The two scouts, Ildar and Elbrek, had indeed chosen a flat path, for which he was thankful, but on a few occasions he stumbled from tiredness and fatigue, and every time he cursed his awkwardness. He was dimly aware of the easy gaits of the Elves around him, their long strides eating up the ground, which he tried to emulate.

The lead group quickly passed beyond the aura of the globe, though the other Elves guided him easily along the path the others must have taken. He tried on several occasions’ different methods of keeping awake and focusing, from counting his steps and vowing to pay back tenfold any harm Kitara might receive at the hands of her kidnappers.

It must have worked. At one point, he looked up to see a dim light showing through the forest ahead, and he thought for a moment it was lights from Lloreander, but realized it was the day's dawning. After a time he did not need his globe, and one of the Elves took it from his unfeeling hand as he pressed on.

Then they were in Lloreander, and even in his almost incoherent state he marveled at the splendor of this great city. Great boles, fifty feet around and two hundred yards high, supported a great canopy overhead. Lower branches contained what looked to be a series of interconnecting platforms with narrow rope bridges and vine trapezes. These raised and lowered into areas, whether to the leafy floor or into the canopy itself. He could see rock and metal items, frames and structures set like dwellings both above and below. Mixed with the wood and leafage, they seemed part of the natural scheme of the glade, so much so that he had to look twice on several occasions to see if he had seen correctly.

His steps slowed as if the timeless beauty of the glade tugged at him, and although many Elves passed, eyeing him curiously as they headed about on unknown tasks, he barely noticed them. With a smile he took in the place Ka’Varel had so adamantly spoken of bringing him to, and wondered not for the first time what it held for him.

But that passed quickly as a wave of extreme fatigue washed over him. Dizziness mixed with a desire to empty his already empty stomach. As darkness overtook him, he knew he should be falling, but something held him fast, and he wondered if it were the Sylvan City with its enchanting beauty, or the web of destiny that hung around him like a net.

Light
warmth clung to Andrak as tenaciously as the deep sleep he had been having. He seemed to be floating on a bed of feathers, soft and comfortable. With awakening came the memory of recent events, and even that could not make him stifle a groan of displeasure at having been wakened from probably the best sleep he had ever had.

A stifled giggle caught his attention and his eyes snapped open, half way through a wakening stretch and yawn. Through foggy eyes he found a young woman seated beside his bed. She was Elvin, recent memories reminding him he was probably not dreaming, and she held in her hands a small wooden flute. She was dressed in light brown and grey, and wore a shirt and trousers rather than a dress or skirt. A narrow belt of silver  aureate leather encircled her slender waist, and a small golden bracelet adorned her left wrist.

“
You wake like a bear after winter!” Spoken in Elvin, Andrak followed slowly, translating the song- like language. She was pretty, he noticed, her slender face dominated with wide eyes like dew covered grass, prominent cheekbones and full mouth. She had long straw-colored hair that reminded him of a dry field on a sunny afternoon.

Abashed, Andrak quickly scanned the room, not wanting to look at the young woman's mirthful eyes. The room was bare, the grayish walls looking to be of flat wood. A single narrow window was set above his bed which was four  posted with a feather  filled mattress, and a single arched doorway was set off to one side. A small chest and chair where the Elf woman sat were the only furnishings other than a small square mat at the entry. The light came from the window and doorway, though there were lantern  niches in each wall.

Other than a vague numbness of limbs and a growling hunger, Andrak felt refreshed and wondered how long he had slept. From the angle of the sun's rays, he guessed it was either early morning or late afternoon, and opted for the latter, considering what time he had arrived. He began to move his leg that had not fully recovered from the wound received from the Goth, and then remembered under what circumstances he had arrived.

“
How is Janantar? Is he all right?” He spoke swiftly and in the common tongue, startling the Elvin girl. She had obviously heard the word Janantar in there and read his concern, and began to speak before he could apologize and repeat the query in Elvin.

“
Janantar is well, considering. The taint of the Unliving was nearly more than he could take. He has been seen to and rests now.”

In the midst of apologizing, Andrak almost missed that Janantar was well, but gave a sigh of relief at the news. The Elf and he had just come to know each other, and he would have hated to see the Bladesinger die at the hands of one of these Demons. He wondered if he would be able to see him and began to rise, then plunged back under the light woolen cover when he realized he was in nothing but his smallclothes. The Elvin girl was still smiling, however, so he did not know if his extra discomfort was part of her mirth.

“
You are being brought new clothes and Kalandar himself has been notified you are awake. He will show you Lloreander, and to Janantar, at your wish, but a meeting of the Elders has been called by the Druids for Darksdawn. Your presence would be welcome.” It sounded like a polite way of saying he was required at this meeting. He gave a curt nod, his embarrassment beginning to fade, though he wondered who had stripped him to his smallclothes in the first place.

“
Are you a healer? Did you heal me of my wounds?” He did not know the nuances of the Elvin language or a great deal of their ways, so he did not know if this would cause offence, but the Elvin woman seemed to only smile the more as if hiding a secret and itching to tell it. “I am Andrak, of Thorhus.”

If possible, the woman's grin widened as she inclined her head in greeting. “I am Ashaellarinar. My brother calls me Ash, or Ashaella. It is easier, he says.”

“
I must confess to similar guilt where my sister is concerned,” smiled Andrak, though the thought of Kitara made him suddenly moody. “I shorten her name, but it is more out of affection than laziness or desire to shorten it.”

“
It is the same with Janantar, though he will not admit such openly. He can be quite sneaky when he has a mind.”

Janantar? Andrak did not ponder aloud, but did she mean her brother was Janantar, or that she was acquainted with Janantar, who also used the abbreviated version of her name? Looking at her, she did have the same striking features, almost golden hair and dazzling eyes that could have been pure emerald. He began to ask when a figure appeared at the door, startling Andrak momentarily before his face reddened, angered at the untimely interruption. It was the Elf Prince, Kalandar, carrying a folded pile of clothing.

“
Ah, Andrak. It is good to see you well. You run well for a round-ear, but you should not wear yourself out so. But, then, if I had known you were to be tended by the fair Ashaella, I would have feigned injury or exhaustion myself.” This last he said with lowered voice as Ashaella rose, but Andrak knew it was meant not only for his ears. The young Elf blushed slightly as she straightened her clothes, obviously trying not to let the Prince see she had heard his words. Andrak smiled and gave a slight nod, wondered if some hurts were worth the pain to see this lovely healer.

“
I would love to see Lloreander," he stammered, more to take the Prince's eyes off Ashaella than any real reason. The Elf woman was fiddling over her personal belongings now, picking them up from beside the chair she had been sitting in. She was obviously not going to be baited by the Prince, and Andrak wondered if this was not the first encounter of the like between the two.

“
An excellent idea!” agreed Kalandar, all smiles as he turned back to Andrak, though his mouth twisted into a wry grin before it left Ashaella. When Andrak did not move, however, the Elf Prince added, “Here are your new clothes. I shall await you outside. Coming, Ashaella?”

The Elf Prince mockingly held a crooked arm out to Ashaella, who cast him an incredulous expression before brushing past. Kalandar turned to Andrak and gave him a conspiratorial wink, as if to say it was all going to plan. Then he followed the woman from the room, almost swaggering as he strode.

Andrak slid from beneath the thin covers and struggled into the clothing, finding them of light cotton and of excellent weave and cut. The shirt was a pale grey, long of sleeve with buttoned cuffs, while the green trousers felt like he had worn them many times before. Same with the low pair of fur- lined boots he slipped on and tightened, finding them comfortable and cool.

Stepping outside, he was instantly engulfed by the refreshing warmth of the Elvin City. Thin beams of light filtered through the thick canopy above, reflecting off damp ground and leaf as if a light rain had fallen recently. Trees were set a hundred feet apart or more here, though their size gave the impression of being more jumbled, and the canopy above was like a level in itself. The grass was short but lush, feeling like a layer of thick wool beneath his feet.

Now that he was better able to see the Elvin Treecity, his first evaluation seemed to be conservative. The room he had exited was indeed an alcove set within a bole of a great tree, which showed no signs of damage from the carving. Several other nearby trees were similarly carved, while others had narrow stairways encircling them, carved smoothly from the tree, but again there seemed to be no damage from the working. These stairs encircled the towering boles fifty to a hundred feet up into the canopy. Occasionally, small platforms were set half way up, some with railings and others not, while some were also linked with vine and wood bridges dangling slightly with what seemed to be little support. Lithe Elves skipped along them, however, as easily as those who walked along the ground.