The Coming Storm (52 page)

She gestured at Elon, Colath and Jalila. Elon’s reputation was well known, but everyone knew Elves didn’t lie or risk their honor.

“We thought to warn you.”

So far, she hadn’t lied. It was a possibility they would indeed attack. In fact, it was increasingly likely. Why would Tolan risk men when he had thousands of those creatures?

Elon had to admire her perspicacity. She’d danced neatly around dangerous truths.

“My Lord King Westin,” Elon said and bowed his head enough to allow this King to see it as he chose.

With a small incline of his head in recognition of his presence, Westin said, “My Lord Elon. Your reputation precedes you. There are many in Daran High King’s Court who speak highly of you.”

There was something in the man’s voice that hinted  it would take more than reputation to impress him. That hardly mattered to Elon, save that it raised grave doubts in his mind as to this man’s ability to lead effectively.

“Thank you. I would lend my voice to that of Lady Ailith. I’ve seen it, all of our party have. We came to give warning. Strengthen your Guard and pull your Hunters and Woodsmen in from the field. If such come, you’ll need every sword you can find.”

Westin looked at them for a moment, thoughtfully.

Looking at him, Ailith could almost see him counting off the appropriate number of minutes for him to consider such information. Minutes they were forced to stand awaiting his decision. He needed to recover his dignity and command and to give his response some thought. She restrained a sigh at such petty behavior.

At last, he nodded solemnly and his head bobbed slowly. “I’ll consider what you’ve said. Thank you for coming.”

They were dismissed. Elon was stunned.

For a moment he considered adding more but he could see there was little point.

Ailith, too, thought to protest but it would have been to no avail. She knew him well enough to know the news they brought frightened and disturbed him. Westin was no warrior and a peace time leader, a King by virtue of his Crown and his birth but he also no fool. There was little doubt in her mind he was aware of the increased incursions. If he was the same Westin she’d always known, it was likely he knew he wasn’t alone in that. A good enough King in time of peace, he would be a terrible one in time of war.

Reluctantly conceding to his power and authority in his own kingdom, she bowed and they left.

Doril waited in the hall outside.

“How did it go?” she said, quietly, joining them as they walked down the hall.

Taking a breath, Ailith shook her head as she removed the circlet and rubbed her brow where it had rested.

“As well as you might expect, Doril. Could you arrange a repast in my rooms for myself and my companions? And ask Aranoc to join us as well? It has been a while since I’ve seen my old friend.”

Doril’s sharp eyes examined Ailith intently and heard what wasn’t said.

She nodded. “I might attend also.”

“That would be wise,” Ailith agreed.

With that Doril’s eyes widened. She nodded once, sharply, then turned and walked briskly away.

Elon was about to speak when a voice called out.

“Lady Ailith.”

Very softly, she breathed, “Oh, no. This will be very awkward,” before turning with a slight bow. “Lord Evin.”

A young man scurried down the hall after them, the color already high in his pale cheeks. A few years older than Ailith, at that moment he seemed to be much younger. His outer robe billowed like a sail behind him, the vibrant shade of blue only making him seem more wan in comparison. It had been a poor choice, and, by Doril’s disapproving expression, his own.

Jareth restrained a grin.

Turning her eyes on him, Ailith raised an eyebrow.

The grin disappeared but Jareth was still clearly amused.

On closer examination Evin was no more pleasing to the eye or spirit than before. Pale, slightly chubby, and with his father’s watery brownish-green eyes.

“I wish to apologize for my father’s offer,” he said.

“No insult was intended, by your father’s own words,” Ailith said, “and so none should be taken.”

“Still,” Evin insisted. “I would marry you if you wished it.”

Faintly, she heard someone choke back a snicker.

Ailith fought the urge to kick Jareth in the shins.

She wanted to disappear into the floor in embarrassment but, knowing what she knew now, she was half afraid that that if she wished it as badly as she wanted to, she just might.

Very gently, Ailith said, “Your father said he meant no insult but that wasn’t the truth Evin and we both know it. I said it there and I meant it, I’ll marry no one who thinks my blood should shame me. Nor will I marry one whose family thinks it should. If I marry, I’ll marry who my heart tells me. Not for blood, nor titles, nor money. For heart alone or not at all. Good night, Evin.”

She led them away, color sweeping from her collar to her crown.

Jareth tried hard not to chortle.

“If you don’t wipe that smirk off your face, Jareth, I shall perforce do it for you.”

“Yes, Lady Ailith,” he said.

“Oh, leave off, Jareth,” she said, and rolled her eyes in exasperation while fighting back a smile.

A servant opened the door for her, she waved him away as the others entered after her.

Removing the circlet, she tossed it carelessly on the bed. Jareth snatched it up, shaking his head.

“I hadn’t even considered that foolish offer,” she said, in disgust.

“Will he listen?” Elon asked.

With a sigh, she shook her head. “It’s doubtful, Elon. If it would have helped I would have had you show him the soul-eater but he likely would have demanded to see it or see it used to make him believe it.”

The idea made all of them shudder.

“He wouldn’t,” Jalila said, horrified.

Ailith looked at her regretfully but meaningfully.

There was a knock at the door, she called, “Enter.”

A servant brought in large tray, which he set on the table before leaving.

Ailith waited until he was gone, then nodded, “I’m very much afraid he would. He would know what it does before he would believe it.”

There was another, quieter knock. Taking a breath, Ailith restrained herself from rolling her eyes at yet another interruption until she caught the amusement in both Elon’s and Colath’s eyes, and Jareth smothering another grin at her exasperation.

Giving them all a look, she called, “Enter.”

Doril ushered Aranoc in quickly and closed the door behind them.

“We stand on no ceremony here,” Ailith said. “If I hear one more Lord or Lady I shall scream.”

“That,” Doril said, dryly, “would be most unseemly,
Lady
Ailith.”

It was obvious she’d heard Ailith’s comment. Ailith had the grace to feel chagrined. She felt herself blush.

Still.

“Perhaps, but it was necessary.” Ailith said as she pulled pins from her hair.

“Is what I heard true?” Doril said. “You expect an attack of some kind?”

Raising an eyebrow at her, Ailith nodded.

Doril looked at her. “I listen, Ailith, I always listen, for it’s the only way I can be sure I know what is truly going on. Westin knows I do it but pretends he doesn’t, to maintain the illusion. So, there is going to be an attack of some kind by creatures from the borderlands.”

With a sigh, Ailith nodded. “It’s likely.”

“How soon?” Aranoc said, looking from her to Elon.

“We’re not certain but by the time the leaves change at the latest.”

“What needs to be done?” Aranoc asked.

That Elon answered, “Increase the Guard and pull in the Hunters and the Woodsmen. All the shepherds should come in as well, out there they’re only food.”

Aranoc settled into a chair, as if his legs had given out beneath him.

“They already are,” he said, grimly. “We’ve lost three so far. Found them, or what’s left of them. I tried to tell Westin but… All right, how bad could it get?”

“We don’t know. It’s best to be prepared.”

Taking a deep breath, Doril nodded. “Food enough for a siege. I’ll get it in somehow, without Westin knowing.”

Aranoc nodded. “The Hunters will be called back, guards will be posted and warned, have no fear. Need me for anything else?”

With a shake of her head, Ailith said, “No.”

They left.

Ailith looked at the others, then grinned and shook her head vigorously.

Pins and ribbons went flying as her hair tumbled free once again. Gratefully, she scrubbed her fingers over her scalp.

“Feel better?,” Jareth asked. 

Letting out a breath, she said, “Much. Let’s eat. Who knows when we’ll eat so well next?”

The smell of the food was tearing a hole in her stomach. Yet somehow, she found she could only nibble at it once she had it.

“We’ve done all that we can,” Elon said, watching her as they ate. “You did well.”

“You were quite impressive, Ailith,” Colath offered.

She smiled crookedly. “Did I? I wish I felt it.”

“Rest,” Elon said. “We all need it.”

Contentedly, Jareth said, “In beds.”

Pulling the door closed behind him, the last to leave, Elon said, “You did do well, Ailith. Sleep well.”

“You, also, Elon,” she said.

The door closed. Wearily, she rang for a servant to help her out of the dress before she crawled into the high bed. Soft wool blankets and a deep mattress. After so many days of sleeping on the ground, it was a pleasure to feel herself sink into that comfort.

With a sigh, exhausted. she put the night and the day behind her and closed her eyes.

Darkness swallowed her up and took her down to dreaming.

Slowly, nearly imperceptibly, darkness gave way to light, to flickering firelight.

Darkness and monstrous shadows that danced and pranced on the walls. It drew her down and drew her in. Torchlight and firelight, as she was drawn down the dark, dank tunnel. They dripped, the walls of that tunnel, thickly, each crimson drop plopped loudly as she was pulled closer to the door. The iron door. It stood open, waiting, in invitation. A wash of firelight and torchlight spilled across the red-washed floor. The light was lurid. 

Ailith’s heart sank. This time she wouldn’t fight it. Not here, there was no point.

Tolan’s so reasonable voice, that odd sing-song. And her father’s voice.

“The attack has been moved up,” Tolan said.

“Why?” Her father’s voice.

“Your daughter and the Elves, they’re at Raven’s Nest. I want her. I want the Elves and I want that wizard. Alive if I can. Your daughter, alive. Oh yes. I want her alive. I want the Elves alive. I want to see them all in chains. Iron chains around Elven wrists, Elven lives I can twist. Oh yes, oh yes. Your daughter, though, your daughter is mine.”

Her swords. Ailith felt for them, at back and hip. There.

Pulled ever onward. Unresisting, for now. Take control of your dreams.

She steeled herself for horror as she was drawn down the hall.

“We must move faster. They suspect. They suspect. They go to warn Westin.”

“Westin’s a fool, he won’t listen.”

“It doesn’t matter, they can’t win against us.”

We have been winning, she thought defiantly. You haven’t stopped us yet.

Closer to the door. She wanted to fight that inexorable pull but knew it was useless here, somehow she was meant to see and hear this.

“When will you move?”

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow.”

He mustn’t know how much she’d overheard, that she knew. She resisted, fought that relentless tide. Dug her heels in, clawed at the walls.