The Wizard and the Warlord (The Wardstone Trilogy Book Three) (45 page)

“All of you are fools!” Dieter Willowbrow yelled down from the trees. He had been out rounding up winter spore for his father’s herbal works and accidentally overheard the meeting. He’d intended to hide in the trees and remain silent until they were done. Now he regretted speaking, for he might not make it to warn the Queen Mother. “It’s you that are afraid of the humans, you who are even now guilty of blasphemy against the Heart of Arbor. You shame yourselves. You shame me with this… this…” He was so angry and scared that, instead of finishing, he leapt through the trees like a startled squirrel. Only a light cascade of loosened snow marked where he had been. Dieter knew that he had to get away from them. If he was caught they would have to kill him. It was never spoken openly, but all elves knew what happened if you crossed the Hardwood coalition. Luckily, Dieter was young and fleet of foot. None of the older elves, he hoped, could catch him.

Lord Revan harrumphed, regaining everyone’s attention. “Our course is set! We must act before he can ruin our plans.”

“What if he is right?” one of the wizards of Teak said. “You are awfully determined to connect your own son’s child to the Arbor Heart. Is it the good of our race you are truly after, or is it family glory?”

“I will not argue with you, Varial,” Revan said. “Stay or go, but do not get in our way.” He turned slowly around, looking into the eyes of the others. “The time is at hand. We can afford to wait no longer.”

Most of the elves were nodding in agreement. They had begun clasping hands, forming a powerful spell circle. Revan left Milea shivering in the middle of the ring and took his place.

Varial Teak and one of Revan’s own cousins eased away from the gathering. Before they were out of earshot, Varial turned and said, “I fear you are misinterpreting the invocation, Lord Revan. The Heart of Arbor won’t quicken in the unborn child. The spell is meant to be cast on a woman not yet conceived. You are risking your grandchild for naught.”

“Go away, Varial. You and Matern are traitors to your own blood,” Revan growled. “Leave us.”

The two unsure elves turned and moved quickly away.

The sun was starting to set and the forest was growing colder. The members of the spell circle began to chant, following Revan’s lead. Slowly, the rhythmic repetition of words turned into an eerily powerful melody.

Milea stood inside the circle. She was clearly terrified. The air around her began to charge with static, and the hot, clean smell of ozone assailed them all. The ground under her feet shimmered in a mosaic of pastel reds and blues. Then, slowly, it gathered into a steady emerald glow. The snow inside the circle melted away. Suddenly, Milea’s chest lurched and her arms went wide. She lay back slightly, but didn’t fall. Her robe and hair flowed strangely up and away from her, as if the wind were blasting her from below. All of the elves, and even the earth around them, began to pulse lightly with the beat of the Arbor Heart.

Milea’s expression was ecstatic, as if she were feeling great pleasure. Slowly, she pulled her arms in and hugged herself. Her eyes shot open but her expression went blank. The pulse was hammering into her, and some of the elves realized, as she had, that what they’d just summoned wasn’t what they had intended.

The clean, ozonic smell grew hot and sulfurous, and as the emerald glow darkened to crimson, the smell of the air turned to brimstone.

Milea heaved, clutching at her swollen belly. For a moment it looked as if she would collapse. Then she stood and strode quickly away, shouldering herself out of the circle. When she separated the hands of the elves she passed between, the spell was broken. The ground inside the circumference was smoldering and rank. The elves were gasping in dismay, all of them pale and sickened.

“What have we done?” one of them asked.

“Lord Revan,” another started, with terrified amber eyes. “This is not the will of the Arbor Heart.”

“The Willowbrow boy was right,” another one added, backing away from them. “This is blasphemy.”

Lord Revan stood trembling from both rage and fear alike. It had not been the Heart of Arbor they had summoned, and that angered him. For thousands of years his family had served the forest. They were owed a reward for that service. What terrified him, though, was that he felt something happen inside the girl, something unwholesome. The Arbor Heart, in his mind, had betrayed him.

The gathering disbanded, all of them feeling ill and deeply concerned with what they had just done. Revan went straight to the dwellings of his people and ordered the sentinels who served his bloodline to hunt down Dieter Willowbrow, Varial Teak, and Matern Redwood. He was certain, and he made his point to several of the elves in the circle, that those three elves had somehow conspired to taint their spell. He convinced enough of them, and then swore that he wouldn’t rest until they paid for their treachery with their lives.

***

In Westland, the feast was just getting underway. In the huge, torchlit gathering hall, the High King and Queen Rosa welcomed their guests to the tables in full regal splendor. Though the lords and nobles of Westland would feast before a roaring fire in the great hall, even the common folk were enjoying the hospitality of the High King’s plentitude. All the lesser halls, and even some of the more open courtyards, were open for all who wished to fill a plate or draw a mug or two of watered ale.

Lines of people from Castleview City formed and led out beyond the North Road gate. There was plenty of fare. Lady Able, who’d suffered the Zard occupation with them, made sure that no one would be without. Fifty fat pigs had been roasted for the affair. Two cows, an elk, and more chickens than they could count had been prepared. Outside the castle there wasn’t much in the way of vegetables or bread, but there was meat and ale aplenty.

When Queen Rosa asked Lady Able what would happen to the food left over, she was answered with a smile. “What the orphanages don’t get will go to fatten the pigs for the upcoming Yule feast.” Lady Able thought she was clever for not being wasteful. Even now, as the feasters took their seats in the Great Hall, she was clucking about it to the noble ladies around her.

The king’s long table was loaded with bread, vegetables, and the side of a bull elk that might have weighed as much as three men. Baked swan, glazed pigs, and steaming bowls of cabbage and stewed carrots filled the places in between. There were silver trays covered with iced pastries, candied yams, cookies, pies and cakes, as well.

The end of the royal table was wide, and both the king and queen sat there side by side. Sitting in the first seat on the king’s right was Master Wizard Sholt, then Lord Spyra, King Jarrek, and the captain of the castle guard. On Rosa’s left was Lady Lavona, the queen’s newest friend and confidant. Next was Lady Able, who had been determined to sit across from Lord Spyra, even though she had to crane her neck up and and around the ribcage of the roasted elk to see him.

The dwarves had a table of their own; they were all drinking merrily and getting their fill. The mood was wonderfully carefree, and it seemed as if the wounds of the past few years were finally healing over.

Queen Rosa stood and whistled like a salty deck girl. As the people hushed to hear her words, she whistled again, enjoying the looks she was getting for doing so. The royal herald caught on and began banging his staff on the stone floor. The dwarves thought it was the beginning of a song and began banging their goblets and silverware on the table in time. Mikahl and Jarrek thought this was hilarious, and after a bit of shouting and shushing, it grew quiet enough that the crackle and pop of the roaring fire could be heard.

“The queen wishes to speak,” the herald called out. “Silence for the words of our wonderful hostess.”

Suddenly, Rosa was speechless and flustered. A silly grin of delight spread across her face. Amazingly, she could hear the roar of the flames themselves. She had never been as happy. All eyes were on her now, especially Mikahl’s. She smiled radiantly. Her skin was peachy and her eyes twinkled brightly. She finally started to speak, but the loud pop of a smoldering knot in the hearth made her jump and giggle. Everyone in the room was smiling. She put her left hand over her mouth to hide her embarrassment and reached her other hand for Mikahl. He took it and let her guide him to his feet beside her.

“Are you drunk, my love?” he asked in a whisper.

Both Lady Able and Lady Lavona heard this and erupted in a peal of excited giggling.

Queen Rosa squeezed Mikahl’s hand and finally found the courage to speak.

Mikahl heard her words, but she had spoken them so quickly that he was left reeling in confusion.

“I’m with child.” Queen Rosa said proudly. “Westland, our king will have an heir.”

As the words slowly sank in, the crowd cheered. Mikahl’s head swam with worry and elation alike. He couldn’t imagine being a father yet, but he also couldn’t wait. The rest of his night went by in a blur of congratulations and windy toasts. The news eventually made its way out to the common folk on the castle grounds, and on to Castleview City.

Later, Master Sholt received a sending from Phen. The wizard took the news of Master Oarly’s death hard. He didn’t allow the information to ruin the night, though. The king and queen hadn’t been that close to the wily dwarf, but he, Lord Spyra, King Jarrek, and most of the dwarves had fought wars with him. Long after the feasters were settled, while the remains were being cleared, he wheeled out a small keg of Harthgarian whiska. He filled their cups with the potent, fiery liquid and then told them how Master Oarly gave his life to save Marble Boy and Hyden Hawk for the good of the realm. None of them slept that night, and by the time the sun came up they had drunk themselves sober.

***

Just after Phen made the sending to Master Sholt, Princess Telgra entered his room. She didn’t knock. She shut the door behind her and bolted it. She was wearing the sheerest of gowns, and seemed determined to win her way through Phen’s grim mood.

The sight of her nearly naked body in the candlelight caught Phen’s attention, but it didn’t stop the tears he was crying for his old grumpy friend. Breaking the news to Master Sholt had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. Telgra stepped up to him and pulled his head against her breast. She shushed him softly. Eventually, her soft kisses, and the feel of her fingers gliding through his hair, quelled his sorrow.

When she kissed him, a spark flared. Passion replaced his misery. They kissed hungrily. Into an already potent flame of love erupted a blazing bonfire.

Sweaty and alive with contradicting emotions, she pulled away and whispered to him. “My people will be here on the morrow. Though you will be traveling with Dostin and me, there will not be much time for us to be alone together.”

“Will you tell your people how you feel about me?”

“Only after I confer with my Queen Mother,” she answered honestly.

He would have protested, but her hand slipped into his britches and gripped him tightly.

Phen’s words died into the kiss that followed. Soon she peeled away her gown, revealing her perfect apple-sized breasts. She took her time undressing him, then climbed up onto him. Their passion overtook him so quickly that he almost felt shame, but she took her time, and they ended up making love throughout the night.

There was no way for anyone to know such a thing, but the casting made by the elven circle did summon the Arbor Heart. Altered by dragon magic and the water of the Leif Repline fountain, Phen was now something more than human. The Arbor Heart, awakened by the meddling old elves, decided that not only would Princess Telgra follow her mother as leader of the race of elves, but her child would lead them after that. A child that was as much human as it was elf.

Phen’s child.

The tunnel seemed like any other rocky cave at first, but after a half hour of traversing it, it became something else altogether: a Shoovway. The dizzying sensation of spinning and spiraling made it hard to walk. The great wolves, who were padding along beside the group, grew timid. More than one whine of worry escaped them. Talon didn’t fly. The hawkling rode on Huffa’s back, gripping her fur and flapping his wings for balance every so often.

“The sensation will pass,” Durge said, but the unease in his own voice was unmistakable.

Hyden’s magical orb light stayed a constant above his head, and Corva showed Jicks how to keep it in his field of vision so that the powerful feeling of vertigo didn’t make him stumble and fall. For a short time, even that didn’t help. The very walls around them, and the roughly-hewn ceiling and floor, seemed to become misty. It was like the surface of a tubular lake reflecting a storm racing past them. Then, all of a sudden, they were standing in an ordinary cave again.

The first thing they noticed was that the air was considerably warmer, but it was still cold by any standards. When they finally saw daylight ahead of them, they were more than relieved. Talon went flying out of the opening to explore, and Hyden sought out the hawkling’s vision. As soon as he saw the world beyond the cave, he knew they were no longer in the Giant Mountains, yet it was still late morning.

As Talon soared, Hyden saw in his mind’s eye an expanse of tree-littered plains. The morning frost was still reflecting from the leaf-strewn grass as if it were all covered in a sparkling pastry glaze. Hyden also noticed that the leafless trees seemed wrong somehow. They were tall and thick, yet the branches were gnarled and twisted. They reminded Hyden of the dying tree he’d sat under while trying to pass Dahg Mahn’s trials. He sensed the presence of what they were after, though. It wasn’t very far; either that, or its power reached farther than Hyden could imagine. The Tokamac Verge lay to the east of them, or was it west now? Hyden wasn’t sure where north was at the moment. If north was now south, as everyone said it would be, then east was now west. He shook his head and chuckled. It didn’t matter. With the great wolves carrying them, they would be able to follow their own scent trail back to the Shoovway’s entrance.

Talon circled back toward the cavern they were in. It opened a few dozen feet above the plain in a large granite formation that seemed to have just pushed up out of the otherwise flat expanse of land. Getting down would be easy enough. Through Talon’s eyes, he could make out plenty of hand and toe holds. For him, it would be like climbing down a stairway.