[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (36 page)

“And what of Maran?” I asked gently, but she
had turned away and was drawing near to the large fire the dragons had built.

I stood in the darkness by the river,
listening to the echoes of her voice in my heart, knowing that she was right
and there was nothing else to do. I picked up my waterskin, knelt by the side
of the water, leaned over and filled it, and wondered idly as I corked it if it
would taste even slightly of salt.

I spent some years as an assassin. I learned
long ago how to weep silently in the generous darkness.

I brought back the carcasses of the two deer I
had found. Gyrentikh and I had a gracious plenty to eat, and there was easily
enough left for the Gedri. They all came, some roused from sleep and yawning,
and carved steaks for themselves and for the absent ones. That still left most
of the meat for us.

“Where is the other dr—the other Kantri?”
asked Jamie. “I thought he had only fallen behind a little. It’s been more than
an hour already.”

“Alikfrikh has seen our fire, they will be
here soon,” I said. “Will did not take easily to flight, and he has delayed
them.”

“Is Rella with him?” Jamie asked.

“Alikirikh is a lady,” I corrected gently. “And
yes, Rella is with her. She is well and hearty, and laughing loudly at Will, as
I understand it.” I explained Will’s difficulties with flight, and Jamie also
laughed.

“Once they do arrive, I assume we’re to have a
council of war?” said Maran.

“Surely that can wait for the morning,” said
Vilkas, yawning.

“No, Mage Vilkas, it cannot,” said Varien
emphatically. “The Black Dragon appears to need neither food nor rest. It flies
like nothing I have ever seen—like a creature that has seen flight but never
learned how it is done—but for all that, it will arrive at its destination all
the sooner.” His voice grew heavier. “The Winds alone know what madness is
brewing in the East Mountains, but my life on it, as soon as it arrives at its
destination we will be the worse for it.”

“Your pardon, Master Varien,” said Aral
meekly. “No disrespect to you, but can we not sleep until the others—arrive—oh,”
she ended quietly, as Alikirikh and her charges came to land.

Rella and Will were offered food, which she
accepted and he did not at first. A brief blue healing glow from Aral, sent
gently to Will, repaired his appetite.

Once we were all assembled, round a roaring
fire in the deep night, we held the first Great Council of the new world. True
enough, we never thought of it in those terms at the time, but that is what it
was. A meeting of Kantri and Gedri together, to solve troubles that afflicted
both. For all that we accomplished little, for all the awkwardness of it on both
sides, there was a sense of rightness as well. It was at least an effort to
plan, to work together to overcome a threat that faced us all. I believe we all
found comfort in it, even Alikirikh. I had never been so long in her presence
before without hearing a single complaint.

I was most pleased to see Shikrar come back to
himself. I had been worried about him, and though I had tried to bespeak him,
he would not hear me all day as we flew. I do not know what he and Akhor had
spoken of while I sought food, but when I returned all awkwardness was past and
Shikrar was himself once more. That yawning darkness that had been growing in
his soul was healed now, by whatever means, and I was grateful for it.

We always assume that life will simply
continue as it is. I have seen this same assumption among the Gedri, but for us
it is worse, for we live so very long, and life for us can flow along unchanged
for long years together. I did not believe that the coming of the Black Dragon
was truly the end of the world, but I was absolutely convinced that it was the
end of the world as we knew it, and that all the careful plans Shikrar and I
had made for our people in Kolmar were going to have been so much wasted
breath. My use-name means “She who knows without knowing.” Sometimes I wish I
didn’t. I understand that ignorance can be a great comfort on occasion.

“The part I can’t understand, Shikrar, is why
you have to fight the Black Dragon? It goes against all reason,” said Rella. “If
it’s that dangerous, why not just run? Scatter to the four winds! You can all
talk to one another, distance isn’t a problem. Go in a hundred different
directions, make it do the work to seek you out while you think of a way to
defeat it.”

“It is the Demonlord,” I said simply. “Even if
we cared only for our own hides, even if we were willing to choose cowardice
and let the Demonlord murder countless numbers of the Gedri while we sought
only safety, we would only buy ourselves a little time. Perhaps your people do
not remember, but we do. The Demonlord took great delight in death. He murdered
hundreds of his own people before ever he killed Aidrishaan, and he could not
be touched by our Fire, as true demons can.”

“If that is indeed what animates that
creature,” muttered Rella. “I can well believe it a demon, but how did Treshak
know? She could only see it pass overhead, at a distance. Surely—”

“Treshak was right,” I said firmly. “Even if I
had only her instinct to believe, I would trust that; but I have proof.”

Varien looked up sharply. “What proof?”

“The Demonlord began life as a child of the
Gedri,” I said heavily. “He was human. I heard the Black Dragon today, when it
looked up and saw Treshak diving towards it. The sounds it made—I think it was
trying to laugh. As humans do. And I would swear on my soul that it said the
word that created the Lost, but for some reason the spell did not work this
time. My soul to the Winds, my friends. Treshak was right. It is the Demonlord
returned, in the body of a golem of fire.”

Perhaps we were all too weary, perhaps too
much had happened that day, but not one of us could think how we might defeat a
creature whose body was the fire of the earth itself. We all vowed to consider
it while we were flying the next day, and the others went apart to sleep. The Gedri
composed themselves around the two fires.

I watched, greeting the moon when it finally
rose, singing in my heart with the stars that slowly wheeled overhead, making
sure that no danger came nigh them.

Jamie and I spread our bedrolls, and he let me
fie nearer the fire. What a gentleman.

We lay close and kept our voices low, that we
might not disturb the others. There was a great deal to talk about, but in the
end we were both too weary to say much about anything aside from the obvious. I
was angry at myself, ignoring matters of great moment to deal with matters of
the heart, until I realised that up until that time I had never had a matter of
the heart that was so desperately important to me.

“I know you’ve spoken with her,” I said, doing
all in my power to keep my voice neutral.

“Yes, I have,” he replied, his free arm about
me. “And you were right. That kind of love is hugely flattering. Dear Goddess,
Rella. I never dreamed that she was so true to me in her heart.”

My own heart dropped like a stone. I must have
stiffened, for Jamie leaned forward a little and kissed the back of my neck. “I
said it was seductive, my lass, not that I was seduced.”

I breathed again.

“I swear to you, Rella,” he said, in that
voice of utter truth that undoes me every time he uses it, “if I had been in
any doubt about the two of us, if I loved you one whit less than I do, I’d have
gone to her. Shia knows, I pity her with all my heart, and—well, you know I
have never stopped caring for her.”

“Then why are you here with me?” I asked. Of
course I knew, I knew fine. I just had to hear it from him.

“Because you are my match, Rella my girl,” he
muttered into my ear. “I swear I can all but hear your thoughts. You complete
me somehow.” I smiled as his arm tightened around me. “My soul to the Lady, I
never knew there was such an empty place in my heart until you came along and
filled it.” He sat up a little, leaned over, and kissed me sleepily. “I love
you, Rella.”

“Thank you for that, heart,” I said, leaning
back against his warmth. After a few moments I added, “I love you too. Can we
go to sleep now.”

For answer I heard his near-silent snore in my
ear.

Good enough.

I thought I had pitched my bedroll far enough
away not to hear them, but even around so large a fire there was only so much
room.

I knew how it was. I had known before ever I
caught up with them, and in my more rational moments I was happy for them both.

But, dear Lady, to hear his voice again,
speaking such words to her! No dagger could be as sharp, or anywhere near as
painful.

He asked me to wed him, all those years ago.
Several times.

That was the worst of it, that fife could have
been so different for me—for us. I curled up physically, as if around a wound,
and I remained so for some time, when at last a quiet thought came to me.

If I had wed him, Lanen would never have come
to be.

And that was it, finally. I had known for
years, in my heart of hearts, that I could never truly reclaim the love Jamie
and I had shared so long ago. Seeing him again had been so much agony—but I
could not wish Lanen unmade. She was the best part of me, however that might
have come about, and somehow that was enough to soothe my heart. I sighed one
last time, for love long since lost, turned over, and fell deep into blessedly
dreamless sleep.

My little sleep before supper had left me far
more wakeful than I should have been. Varien lay beside me, but he couldn’t
sleep either. I heard Rella and Jamie talking quietly. Will and the Healers had
their own smaller fire, leaving the five of us to take what comfort we could
from the larger one. Maran was restless as well, but even she eventually lay
still.

I found that the other two silent members of
the party were also apparendy awake. There was nothing so obvious as a kick,
the movements were far more subde. Hardly more than a flutter, but I felt it
and gasped. Varien asked me if I was well and for answer I put his hand on my
rounding belly. After a moment or two he sighed. “Alas, it is too soon for one
so far removed to feel anything, even with Gedri hands,” he said, a little
sadly. “And yet, there are other ways.” I felt his soft touch in my mind, and
then—it was a most curious sensation. As if he were searching for other minds
within me—which, I suspect, he was. After a moment he gave up and grinned at
me. “Perhaps it is a touch too soon for that as well,” he admitted.

“They’re not even big enough to kick, you
idiot dragon,” I murmured. “Though whether I should expect to be kicked by four
legs or eight, I haven’t yet decided,” I added ruefully.

“Lanen!”

I lay back, trying to find some comfortable
place on the hard ground. “Well, don’t you worry about that?” I drew my blanket
about my shoulders and mourned, briefly, for the real bed we’d slept in the
night before. I could have used the comfort of it. I was in a most peculiar
mood, I remember—able to speak lightly of things that were desperately
important to me. It was very odd.

“Dear one, does that fear haunt you, truly?”
asked Varien, concerned at the genuine note of worry in my voice. Damn.

“Of course it bloody well haunts me,” I said,
exasperated. “Varien, even women married to normal men worry about their unborn
babes. Will they be healthy? Will they grow strong in my womb, or do they
wither within me? Will they have just the one head, and the two arms and two
legs?” I snorted, torn between amusement and more than a drop of genuine
horror. “Of course, in our case, Goddess only knows what grows in there. Hells,
Varien, are they going to be born with wings?” Despite myself I shuddered. “Poor
little scraps. Half Kantri, half Gedri. Alone in all the world.”

Varien sat up and took my face gently between
his hands. “La-nen, kadreshi, think. When Vilkas changed you, remember? He said
then that they are perfectly human creatures. Human, and healthy.” He smiled. ‘Two
arms, two legs, one head each, and not a wing in sight.”

“But that was so long ago!” I moaned. Foolish,
I know, but what would you? Pregnancy does awful things to a woman’s feelings.
Mine seemed to be changing with every breath.

Varien grinned and stroked my hair. “Kadreshi,
it was but a se’ennight since. It may feel as though an age of the world hath
come and gone, but my word upon it, no more than seven days have passed.”

“A se’ennight! Are you certain?”

“Certain sure, as Jamie would say. My word
upon it.”

“Nonsense,” I snorted. “I don’t believe it.
You’re lying. It’s been a full moon since then, at least.”

“As you say, then,” he responded placidly. ‘Tour
word is law, my wife.” I giggled. “But you must not be surprised, dearling, if
the moon hath foolishly lost track of time and thinks that only a quarter of
her cycle has come and gone.”

“You’re humouring me. Stop it,” I said,
pleased at the banter.

“As you will,” he said, bowing while seated,
which is quite a trick. I batted at him, but he caught my hand and kissed it,
and was suddenly more serious. “Lanen, I do most deeply apologise that I could
not—humour you this morning.” He sighed. “We are creatures of habit, we of the
Kantri. I have reacted in a certain way for a very long time, and I can forget
that old responses are not of necessity the correct ones.” He sighed. “I heard
your fears, my dear one, but I reacted as though I had never changed, as though
I were yet Akor, and Akor alone.” He forced himself to look into my eyes. “I
very much fear that you were right—are right—and that by taking you within a
thousand leagues of Berys I am putting at risk not only your life but the lives
of our childer.”