The Coming Storm (22 page)

Intolerance explained much about the laws of Men. They were all about absolutes, there was no allowance for common sense or exceptions. Dwarves wanted endless exceptions, seeing the Law as an Absolute in a different way. Elves didn’t. Elven law was simple, keep to Honor, do no harm unless to save your own life or that of another. There was a great deal of latitude in that, allowing for the judgment of an individual.

There was no allowance here.

This they did was wrong. It didn’t sit right but however he felt about it he was bound by it, bound to the law whether he liked it or not.

Loath though he was to admit it, Elon could see no way around it.

“In the lands of Men, their rule is Law. As our laws are in our lands. We can’t violate that Law in their lands, any more than they can violate our laws in our lands. Our hands are tied.”

Ailith looked at him, at all of them.

Gently, she said, “Elon, I knew that when I came. There’s nothing you can do, I know I have to go back. It’s no fault to you or any of you, nor to your Honor. They would send the Guard after you if you tried, they would have to and my father would send to the High King in protest. Either way Tolan gets what he wanted. And perhaps more. My father told him how much you’re respected, Tolan would be very happy to see you discredited. It would serve his purposes well. That’s not what I came here for. I came here to warn you and I’ve done that. I’m not alone in this anymore. Someone knows what goes on here. Someone knows that the man who looks like my father can’t be trusted and that thing is no longer in my hands.”

 “And if this Tolan has another soul-eater, as Jalila said?” Elon asked. “What’s to stop him from putting one on you?”

She took a deep breath. This wouldn’t reassure him or them.

“I think he does have more and he’s already tried.”

Horrified, Jareth asked. “What happened?”

“It’s strange. He didn’t do it while you were there but he has this odd way of talking. He never raises or lowers his voice but it has a peculiar rhythm to it. Sing-song. Like that charm, it’s enthralling. Then someone dropped something and startled him.”

Smoke wandered up behind her, to lip at her hair. She pushed his nose gently away.

“And he let you go?”

“I think it was harder than he expected. It took weeks before my father began to act strangely. He may have thought I would be easier prey.”

The horse nudged her as if he sensed it was time to go and he was growing impatient.

He was right, though, it was time to go.

“Now you see why Smoke was a cull. There is another. He likes to wander, does Smoke. So, I shall leave him where he can be found and go for a run to my favorite swimming spot. I shall take a swim. If they ask me what I’ve been doing, I’ve been for a run and a swim. Neither will be a lie. It’ll be all right.”

It wasn’t all right, Elon thought, but he had no alternative. As much as he misliked it.

Smoke nudged her again as she got up. “Where is a rock when you need one?”

Elon picked her up and set her on the horse.

It startled her. She knew from Dorovan that Elves didn’t touch, not even each other, not around the race of men. She hadn’t even thought to ask. That was twice he’d done so.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully, a little unsettled. She looked down at him, into his stern dark eyes. “A favor?”

“What is it?”

“Find the Hunters and Woodsmen. Show them that thing. Tell them not to come back to Riverford. Tell Gwillim what’s happening here.”

Gwillim had trained with Elon years before, when Elon had first begun to train the Hunters of Men, the only Elven Enclave to do so. So Gwillim would know him and trust him.

Ailith wouldn’t give Tolan anyone else.

Her voice caught, thickened. “He taught me to track, Gwillim did. He tells me I’m beautiful, although we both know I’m not. He’s a good man. Tolan said he was next. He means to have Gwillim lead his men into a trap. Don’t let them go back. Promise me.”

Elon looked into her smoky blue eyes and nodded. Her courage made his throat tighten.

“I will. They won’t return. My Word on it. Ride carefully, Ailith of Riverford. If you need to run, find us.”

She smiled. “It’s been an honor to meet you at last, Elon of Aerilann. I’m glad to have met the man my father once spoke of so highly.”

“And I you, Lady Ailith.”

His use of her title and the way he said it had meaning she dared not think about. She swallowed hard.

Quickly, she looked at the others. “I’ll see you all again.”

It was as much of a promise as she could make.

Leaning into Smoke, she ducked her head as the horse went out the doorway. She didn’t look back.

Beyond the doorway a stench filled the air, the smell of all the dead things.

Smoke didn’t like it, shying, tossing his head and snorting but she got him turned west and south and gave him his head.

As well as she could see in the dark, even with the fading moonlight, it was still unnerving to travel where so many of the creatures of the borderlands still might roam.

The first pearly light of dawn was blooming in the sky by the time they were close enough to the castle for her to slide off and set Smoke loose.

“Go give them a show, horse, lead them on a merry chase,” she said and smacked him on the rump.

He kicked up his heels and went. The Guards would have a hard time herding him back where he belonged.

She ran, even as tired as she was and she was very tired. She needed to run off the twitching of her muscles, the endless second thoughts.

The chance had been there to be free. To not go back. To not have to face Tolan and the thing that resembled her father. There hadn’t been any choice really but it didn’t make her want it any less. It would only have put Elon and the others in a difficult if not impossible position. She knew that, she did.

So far she’d managed. Somehow she would do so for a few more weeks. This way, perhaps she might learn more about what Tolan planned.

There was an eddy by the river where the water wasn’t so fierce and she liked to swim.

She waded in, the water shockingly cold, holding her sword above her head. Her arm stung.

There was a tear in her shirt. That scratch.

She rinsed it well and studied it. It looked clean enough. The water washed the stench of boggins and boggarts from her clothing as well. There was a rock in the center that would be warmed by the sun now. Later the trees would shade it and it would be cool. She put the sword on the rock for long enough to duck her head under and rinse the smell of blood and death from her hair. Then, wearily, she crawled up onto the rock and went to sleep.

The sun was fairly high when a voice awoke her, calling to her. One of the guards.

One she knew, thankfully.

“Milady,” he called, for the third or fourth time.

Yawning and stretching, she sat up. “Gilberth. What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“That Tolan, he’s been looking all over for you. I thought you mighta come here as I know you like to take a swim. He sent folk to search for you, so I thought I might warn you.”

“Has he? Why? I’m here.”

“Well, he’s in a right fury he is. You’d best go back.”

With a sigh that wasn’t feigned, she said, “All right. Catch this, would you?”

She tossed him the sword, which he caught neatly and handed back to her when she came out of the water.

At the gates, she handed him the sword again. It wouldn’t do to have Tolan see her with it. Or Tolan to see Gilberth. She wouldn’t have another suborned who’d been kind to her.

“Would you take that to my rooms, Gilberth?”

He nodded and trotted off.

Tolan waited in the courtyard, standing stiffly. “Where were you?”

A number of people stood around, carefully not watching.

Korin stood by the stables, watching intently. Not leaning against the wall, as was his wont. There was no piece of harness in his hands to thread absently between his fingers, looking for weak spots. He simply stared, his brown eyes still.

Men’s eyes were never as still as Elven ones were. Most people looked around while they talked, seeing things, looking for someone. When their eyes were still, they were usually lying or trying to convince you of something.

The eyes of Elves were always still, looking intently at you, listening to every word. Yet you knew they were aware of everything that went on around them.

Korin’s hands had never been still, they’d always had something in them, a harness or a bridle. There was no piece of leather in them now. His hands were still and his eyes were still, too, waiting, watching.

That wasn’t like him.

He should have left. She’d wanted him to leave. There would be no help for her there ever again, she knew. In her heart she grieved, but didn’t dare show it.

She clasped her hands behind her back to hide the tear in the sleeve of her shirt.

“I went for a run and a swim.”

It was no more than truth, just not all of it.

“Your father was worried,” he chided. “Very worried.”

Properly contrite, she said, “Should I go and apologize to him?”

“No, but in future you should tell someone where you’re going,” he said.

There was no mistaking the warning in his look. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. From this point onward she would have to tell them everywhere she went.

Unless she was certain she couldn’t be caught.

The thought of what would happen if she was curdled the emptiness in her belly.

A burst of laughter from the parapets somewhat ruined the effect of Tolan’s glare.

He turned it instead on the Guards that leaned between the crenellations on the outward side as they watched and called out jeers and gibes to those below.

Ailith and Gilberth had given the poor Guardsmen a wide berth as they’d tried to herd Smoke back into the makeshift paddock beside and behind the castle. It was fairly amusing to watch and Smoke was having a grand time, his great head tossed and his ears twitched, tail high as he danced and darted around them.

“I will,” she assured Tolan, soberly, trying not to picture the scene on the other side of the wall.

The guards wouldn’t thank her for it if they knew but it made it hard to keep a grave face.

“Get that horse back in the paddock,” Tolan shouted upwards, irritably.

She took the opportunity to escape and considered herself lucky to have gotten off so lightly, thanks to Smoke.

The sword was on her bed, bless Gilberth. That saved her from explaining why she’d had it.

Just as suddenly she stopped as an odd crawling sensation crept up the back of her head.

Something was wrong. There was a buzzing in her ears, that wasn’t really in her ears.

Gilberth hadn’t been the only one to be in here.

Her gifts! Panic struck her.

She closed the door quickly and got on her hands and knees to feel under the bed. The longsword to match her shortsword and the bow Dorovan had gifted her were still there.

That wasn’t it.

Something.

Her breath was short and her heart pounded.

Something wasn’t right.

It was something around her bed.

She tore the sheets from it and tossed the pillow aside. Nothing.

It was still there, that mindless humming.

She pulled up the wool and straw-filled mattress. There was nothing there but the strapping beneath it.

Slowly, she ran her hands across the mattress. A chill went through her.

As soon as her fingers got close, she knew what it was. A soul-eater.

Tolan’s voice hadn’t worked, so now they’d tried another way.