The Coming Storm (14 page)

For a moment, he stopped.

Elon waited, signaling Jareth to silence.

He would let him tell it in his own time. This would haunt him, else. Like a small wound, festering and growing rancid.

“The ogres we barely avoided and an orc gave chase but we managed to shake them,” he said.

He was as still as it was possible for an Elf to be, his expression so dispassionate it might have been carved from stone. Jareth could see the look in his eyes, though and it stunned him silent.

Once more Colath looked to Elon, saw the patient understanding there and nodded.

“It was the manticores, a pride of them. The horses did their best and we rode with weapons bared. Jalila, Alic and I were putting arrows into the air as fast as we could draw them – more to discourage than to do any harm. They were quick. One leaped from behind and took Iric. His back broke from the impact and it was already savaging him as he went down but he managed to thrust his sword into that joint between chest and leg. Then they all closed in.”

He stopped, paused, girded himself.

“Jalila managed to get an arrow into him before they fell on him. One good clean shot.”

Elon gave him another moment and then said, “He would have welcomed it, I think.”

Looking away into the distance, Colath said, “Yes,” on a long sigh, then continued. “His sacrifice gave us the chance to escape.”

“I underestimated the danger,” Elon said. “Always, always, we’re one step behind. You did well, Colath.”

“What do you mean,” Jareth asked, “we’re one step behind?”

With a glance at Colath for confirmation, he said, “Don’t you feel it, Jareth? Think. All along our borders we are beset. Not by warriors, no, but beset all the same. Doesn’t it feel as if those borders are being tested? As an enemy will test it to see where the weaknesses are and when?”

Come to think of it, that was true. Jareth nodded slowly.

“What enemy? Who would do this? We have no enemies, we’re at peace with ourselves.”

Elon shook his head. “That I don’t know and it troubles me. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that’s what’s happening.”

He took a deep breath, calming himself.

“Colath, are you ready to travel?”

Surprised, Jareth stared at him but Colath nodded.

“As well as I might be. The Healers have mended Chai as well.”

“Good.”

With a wave of his hand a runner appeared. He gave instructions and the runner went off at a trot.

“Where are you going, Elon?” Jareth asked, bewildered.

“We,” Elon said. “We are going. First, to the Collegium, to get you assigned to me officially. Then, to test this wild supposition of mine.”

Jareth rolled his eyes. “Wild supposition, Elon? Not possible.”

“I thank you for that, my friend,” Elon said, in response, his eyes solemn, “but if we were to take this to Daran, your High King and those of the Council?”

He thought of the heartlands, of all the people going about their business, his shock and surprise at their laughter and lightheartedness after days in the highlands. On the fringes. Elon had a great deal of influence in some ways. In others… Daran, High King, was no man’s friend. He was a King. If Elon went to him with what he had now, he wouldn’t get far.

Deep in the heartlands, no one believed anything was truly wrong. In some ways, the exhausted Hunters and Woodsmen were doing their job too well.

“Wild supposition would be mild,” he said, bitterly, understanding all too well. “They wouldn’t believe it. I’ve been in the heartland. They don’t know what goes on out here.”

“So, we journey. We try to find proof enough to convince.”

There was something more but Elon didn’t speak of it yet. That odd presentiment of time running away from them.

It didn’t take long to prepare. Summoned by the runner, Jalila joined them, her bow slung across her shoulders. She was the best archer in Aerilann, bar none. Elon didn’t know what they might face but it was better to be prepared. He’d already underestimated once, he wouldn’t do so again. There were none who could match him with a sword, save Colath. Jareth had his magic. With Jalila they’d have a master bowman.

There was that about Elves, Jareth reflected as they rode through the Veil and into the world outside the Enclave, which was vastly different from men. Even a lesser King would take several days of planning, if not weeks for some, before he or she could leave their lands. Daran would at least take weeks if not a month or more.

Elon’s Second, Sareth, had arrived in response to his request, he’d briefed her and they’d left. In that short conversation Elon had suggested she work to strengthen the Veil, had passed on the warnings about the new threat of the manticores and suggested  they bring those of the local village of men into the buffer zone of the Enclave if things became dire enough to warrant it. Other than that, all the affairs of the Enclave were in her hands.

Travel bread, water, spare clothing and a travel pack were all set on the horses and they were off. Such things were always kept on hand in case of need. They belonged to no one and everyone. That was the way of Elves.

They stayed on guard while still within the range of the Enclave, with weapons at hand but there was no incident.

A day and slightly more of steady riding brought them to the hill overlooking the Collegium.

Once Jareth had seen this place as home, this sprawling complex of buildings great and small. Every wizard was guaranteed a place here. The predominant race was that of men, partly because of their prolific nature but partly because both Elves and Dwarves were magical in and of themselves. Neither of those races were prone to disease of any kind, both were long-lived and could would heal over time from wounds that would kill most men. All Elves could make the little balls of light that were referred to as elf-lights. Dwarves could make dwarf-lights, using small stones. Many had another talent as well, like Elon with his foresight and Healing. Most could set wards. Dwarves had their Lore Masters, the most magically talented of their people, as a different caste. Those races taught their own but wizard magic was different and mostly found among men. Occasionally, though, there were those like Talesin who was Elf and wizard, or Grig, who’d been Dwarf and wizard.

The days when the Collegium was home had gone with the rise of Avila.

No one could fault her technical skills, she was a Master Wizard, of that there was no doubt. Even he would admit  he’d learned a great deal from her. As an instructor and administrator, though, she’d been a harsh taskmaster.

The problem with Avila was that with her it was all technical, form over function. The personal element was lacking. Her edict about the robes was a classic example. She’d convinced the wizards assembly they needed formal robes, something that declared a wizard for what he was. The assembly, mostly made up of other instructors with only a few representatives of the itinerant wizards, had seen it as wisdom and agreed. Standing as the instructors did, the robes were very impressive, with great winged arms. What they hadn’t envisioned was that the stiff, high collars of the things would be impossible to wear for any length of time or that the lack of a split in the front and back made riding awkward and ridiculous. Avila rarely rode, she always used a carriage, for all she wanted an Elven-bred horse. It was the having of it that she wanted.

The endless string of protocols, rules and regulations also made things difficult. As if the training they’d received as wizards and their own common sense couldn’t be trusted, it had to be controlled. The rules also changed, being fine-tuned constantly. It drove Jareth insane.

“I’ll have to change before we see her,” Jareth said, as they neared the gates.

Elon repressed a smile. It would be best in any case. Jareth, as usual, looked rumpled and unkempt. His hair was windblown and spiked from running his hand through it, as he’d done when they crested the hill. He said nothing but gave Colath and Jalila a look. Who both returned it in the same humor.

No one watched the gate, something that surprised Elon and made Jareth sigh and shake his head.

“I know,” he said. “There are no guards on the walls, either, notice? Avila doesn’t think it’s necessary. She barely maintains the wards. Wait here.”

They’d stopped at one end of the dormitory. Taking the steps two at a time, Jareth hurried to his room. It was little more than a cell, with a single bed, a table and candle and a few shelves for personal items and clothing. His robe was hanging from a hook behind the door. That was all he used the room for these days, a place to hang that damned robe.

Pulling it on, he ran his fingers down the front to magically seal it closed but only part way. He’d have to remember to seal it the rest of the way before they entered Avila’s office. Otherwise he couldn’t take long steps and would be reduced to an awkward hobble. They’d never been designed for people with long legs or long strides.

Before he left he remembered to run a brush through his hair. He really wanted to grow it like the Elves did, fastening it back at the temples or at the back. It was straight enough but the custom among men wouldn’t allow it. There were already enough people who claimed he’d ‘gone Elven’ on them.

Elon, Colath and Jalila had dismounted by the time he came down and stood looking out across the quadrangle. Groups of wizards-in-training walked in lock-step from one class to another. Something else that had changed from his day. Once this place had rung with laughter and students had raced each other to their next class.

He shook his head and sighed.

“Hold, Jareth,” Elon said and reached out to straighten the collar. “Colath? Jalila?”

Looking him over, Colath said. “The robe isn’t completely done.”

Jalila simply watched, her dark eyes going from one to the other.

“You’re all enjoying this, aren’t you?” Jareth asked. By the glint in their eyes, they were. “If I seal it completely, I can’t take a full stride, the damned thing catches me short. Remind me before I go in.”

A small smile twitched at Colath’s mouth, the first time Jareth had caught that expression in recent days. Despite the fact  it was at his expense, it was worth it if it lightened Colath’s mood.

“Foolish design,” Jalila said, eyeing the hem.

Even she would have been caught short-stepped by the thing. A simple vent in the back would have made it more comfortable.

“I’ll give you no argument on that. All right, so am I decent enough?”

The complaint was querulous enough to almost bring a smile to Elon’s face as well. He wasn’t looking forward to this interview but he needed Jareth. For several reasons other than as a friend and trusted companion. One, he was a wizard and they might need a wizard’s skills. Two, he was of the race of men. The only one among them of that race.

“Yes,” Elon agreed, “you are decent enough. Jalila, would you stay with the horses?”

The look on her face was answer enough but she nodded and folded her arms, settling herself to wait.

“How long has that been policy?”

Elon tipped his chin at the neat rows of students as they walked to the assembly building where Avila’s office was located.

Shaking his head again, Jareth said, “I don’t know. I haven’t spent much time here of late.”

With a quick glance as they reached the doors, Colath reminded him to fasten his gown. Startled, he ran his fingers over the seam to seal it, just before someone opened the doors.

Fortunately, he was standing straight by then.

The young man who greeted them said, “May I ask who is calling and what your business is with the Master of the Collegium?”

What was this? Had Avila gotten too lazy to answer her own door or had she taken on some new airs?

With a glance of apology at Elon and Colath, Jareth restrained the impulse to shake his head and said, “Elon and Colath of Aerilann and Jareth, wizard at large.”

Something this one very well knew. Even if he hadn’t recognized Jareth, which was unlikely as he wasn’t gone that often, an Elf was somewhat unusual. Elon was certainly well known throughout the Kingdoms.

“Wait here,” the boy said, “I’ll see if she’s available.”

He closed the doors. Jareth was astonished.

“Available, my eye, she’s been watching us from the windows ever since we came over the hill.”