23-The Trees

For the space of a few heartbeats, we stared after Ilya Terr like owls blinking in the sun.

Quill turned to me, “What was in that note?”

“Nothing flattering to the elves,” I said. After a beat I added, “Drivel about purity of the moors and bringing strength to the Wuhn.”

“You Angari,” muttered Mihalak, then he switched to grumbling in Terrim and bent to help Aurel, Ilya’s sister, to her feet. The other elves were stirring and Mihalak snapped something in elvish that jolted them all to wakefulness. Aurel barely reacted at all when Mihalak told her what had happened. She only glanced into the woods after her brother, and I wondered if she could somehow see him in the darkness.

“We can’t let him go after Adorjan Bulgar alone,” said Galo. She was standing now, trying to wrap a rag of cloth around the stick I’d tossed her.

“The Lord of Linden is never alone if there are trees,” Mihalak put in turning back to our side of the fire.

Galo bit her lip, and I guessed she hadn’t been thinking of Ilya Terr’s safety. She confirmed this by saying, “If Lord Terr kills Adorjan Bulgar he will jeopardize the treaty—a treaty which will save the lives of hundreds.”

“It is not the elves who stand in its way!” retorted Mihalak. He turned back to the Wuhn company, the elves, and Rakov, starting to rise and belt on their weapons.

I caught Quill’s eye and inclined my head in the direction Ilya Terr had gone. He dipped his chin a fraction and I started to move away from the light of the fire while the others continued in a furious hush.

“It will be if he murders an Angari lord!”

“Bulgar is a wretched traitor unfit to bear the title of lord—even an Angari title.”

I stepped into darkness and started moving into the woods.

Behind me, I heard Aurel say, “Mihalak! You aren’t helping.” A pause, then in a more measured tone, “Your Bulgar has already jeopardized the treaty, and will destroy it entirely if he harms either my brother or your lady.”

“We will hunt together, then, for we all wish…” Quill’s voice.

I was too far away to make out the rest. My eyes adjusted to the night, and I could make out the trees and the earth beneath them. Even so, I moved carefully, keeping my hands out to find branches and spider webs before my face did. The way in front of me was surprisingly clear. No roots, brambles, or vines snagged at my feet. I had run through plenty of woods in the dead of night, and it was never this easy. Immediately I thought of swimming in the tidal creeks of Galhara. We were not allowed to redirect the currents to suit our playing, but if we asked, the water would let us slip through it without clinging…The Lord of Linden is never alone if there are trees. My feet slowed and I hoped fervently that Ilya Terr did not mind my presence. Perhaps the forest would deposit me back at the camp if he did not want to be found. Or perhaps I would wander aimlessly in the wood until morning. A shiver ran through me. At least I wouldn’t drown like those who got lost in the sea. I reached out to touch the nearest tree, “I’m a friend,” I whispered, my voice loud in my ears. I felt silly. I resumed walking.

When I saw the form of Ilya Terr ahead of me, leaning one hand against an enormous pine as if on an old friend, I nearly sagged in relief. He was standing with his back to me, his sword dangling loosely in his other hand.

I approached cautiously, taking care to scuff my feet on the off chance the trees hadn’t told him I was coming. I stopped ten feet away and waited a moment. When Ilya didn’t acknowledge me, I ventured, “My lord?”

“Was it funny?” his voice was a growl.

“What?”

The elf-lord half turned toward me; I could sense more than see the anger on his face. “Was it funny? The Countess pretending to be a lesser lady and watching me none-the-wiser?”

“No!” I scoffed, “We were all wildly uncomfortable the whole time.”

Ilya snorted, “You were uncomfortable?” He turned away again. “I thought…I thought I recognized her. I have been going out of my mind because I knew her. Shaddai, I’m such a fool. And I told her such stories…”

His tone had become less feral, and I took it as an invitation, stepping a few feet closer and saying, “To be fair, she looks very different when she’s in her make up.”

“Such a ridiculous custom.”

I managed not to agree out loud, barely.

“Does she have…feelings…for this Bulgar?”

“No, my lord,” I was sure of that.

“Does he for her?”

“Her, or her power.”

Ilya leaned his forehead against the tree, and after a moment asked, “Tell me, did she flee?”

“My lord,” I dared another step closer, “She did not flee. She would not flee. Even if she had discovered you to be a monster she would not flee.” I added quickly, “And she has smiled more in the past three days, in your company, than I have ever seen her.” In the short time I’d known her, at least.

He seemed to relax a little. Leaning heavily on the pine for another long moment. “Can you fight?”

“I can,” I replied warily.

“Good,” the elf lord straightened and started belting on his sword. “They carried her on foot to that boulder over there, then got on horses and rode east. They are still in the hills. So long as they stay in the woods, I can track them easily enough. Don’t bother with torches, they don’t need to know we’re coming.” He raised his voice, “Mihalak!”

I jumped when Mihalak’s voice sounded behind me, much closer than should have been possible.

“My lord.”

“Tell Aurel to come behind with the horses, I will leave a trail for her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I turned around just in time to see Mihalak bow and head back toward the camp. Quill’s familiar form was just visible in the darkness, striding the last few feet to my side.

“You two, with me now, the rest will follow.” The elf lord strode away.

Well, then. I hurried after the elf, aware of Quill just behind me. Again, despite the dark, we didn’t trip over roots, or vines, and branches didn’t catch our clothes. What had Ilya said to the trees to impress them so much so quickly? And if this was his effect on a grove he just met, how terrifying must the forest of Linden be.

Even with the congenial assistance of the trees, it took all of my focus to keep track of Ilya Terr’s shadow as it slipped from one depth of darkness to the next. We were nearly running, and as time passed, I began to put more and more effort into breathing and care less about making noise. I was stumbling blindly by the time Ilya stopped. I halted, bending to prop my hands on my knees while I contemplated my deep desire to lie flat on my back in the moss until morning.

“They are on the other side of the hill,” said Ilya, quietly. “Idiots stopped for a rest. It will be dawn soon. We will need to be silent from here on.”

Quill came to a stop beside me, I listened to him catch his breath before he said, “Do you intend to attack immediately, my lord?”

“Do you know Adorjan Bulgar? Will he harm her?”

Quill and I looked at one another, then Quill said. “I don’t know.”

“Then we attack immediately.”

“Can we get close enough to get the lay of their camp first?” I asked.

I felt Ilya’s gaze fall on me incredulously. “Do you routinely strike without scouting first?”

“I’m a leanyod,” I said, almost tripping over the word.  

Ilya scoffed, “I’ve never seen a leanyod wear knives or tend horses or keep watch. You’re a bodyguard.”

I crossed my arms. I avoided outright bodyguarding work because I didn’t want to throw myself between an arrow and a wealthy merchant’s heart. But Ilya was right enough about this job. So much for an undercover investigation gig with a little luxury on the side.

“We don’t mean to be rude, my lord,” said Quill, “But we aren’t accustomed to your methods.”

“I will forgive you, just this once,” said Ilya, briskly enough that I couldn’t be sure if he was serious and balked at asking the real question. Did he intend to kill Adorjan Bulgar? Worse, I wasn’t even sure I could convince him not to, since I myself sort of liked the idea.

Thank you to my lovely readers!

You keep me writing!

If you like Zare’s adventures, don’t forget to like, comment, and share! Also, consider supporting on Patreon for as little as $1/month.

Patrons, don’t forget to check out Zare’s Patreon for chapter format, maps, first looks, and other cool extras.

22-Out of the Bag

“That idiot,” I said. Lovesick loon, indeed.

“Damn him,” Druskin cursed again.

“They can’t have gotten far.” I tucked the note in my pocket and headed for Quill’s bedroll. Crouching, I shook his shoulder. “Quill. Wake up.”

His hand snaked out and caught my wrist, pulling me down as he rolled and flipped me under him. In a split second he’d pinned both my wrists and he straddled my torso, face inches from my own. My breath caught and my weapons dug into my back. His eyes were half closed still but he paused uncertainly, brow furrowed. The next move ought to be a choke or a stab. I tucked my heels close under my rear and prepared to launch Quill over my head if he didn’t snap awake, “Quill! It’s me!”

Quill’s eyes cleared and for a second we stared at one another. He was looking at me as if I were so entirely unexpected, he couldn’t be sure I was real. Releasing one wrist, he touched my cheek, his fingers cold but breathtakingly gentle. Then abruptly he rolled off into a sitting position next to me and scrubbed his hands across his face. He looked haggard. It had been a long time since I’d startled Quilleran Rhydderick. Or seen him…undone…Perhaps it was just a night for uneasy rest—I thought of Druskin’s own close call when he woke me. Or perhaps all who’d fled the Empress suffered nightmares occasionally. Even so, the memory of Quill’s touch, and the way he’d searched my face…My hammering heart wasn’t entirely due to the Countess’s disappearance as I sat up and gently touched his knee. “You alright?”

He nodded, glancing at me, then asked huskily, “What is it?”

“Adorjan Bulgar has kidnapped the Countess,” I said.

That woke him up, “What?” demanded Quill.

I looked at Druskin, who had roused Luza with much less drama, and asked, “How long ago did she leave?”

The Captain of the Guard replied, “A quarter an hour ago? Maybe longer.”

Quill was already pulling on his boots. “Make some torches, it’ll be hard to track at night but if we can find their trail, we should be able to catch them.”

I got up and started rooting in the small pile of firewood for a suitable torch. “Druskin, unless you or Luza are incredible trackers, you should go saddle the horses in case we need them.”

Druskin growled, but he turned and beckoned Luza to follow him.

“What can I do?” Galo was sitting up now, tugging on her boots.

“Light torches.” I tossed her a stick and kept rummaging.

“I have something better than torches,” said the elf, Mihalak. “I’ll wake my lord.”

Before any of us could object, or begin to rationalize a plausible reason not to, Mihalak was shaking Ilya Terr awake. I almost laughed when Ilya, too, was on his feet with a knife in hand before sleep left his eyes. Another soul all too familiar with the taste of peril. Such a company we made. Perhaps by the end of this journey all the Wuhn would wake this way, too.

Countess Adel has been snatched in the night,” said Mihalak, putting a steadying hand on Ilya’s shoulder.

Countess.

By the gleam in his eye and the tone of his voice, Mihalak had put it together.

“What?” Ilya demanded, coming fully awake, “How?”

Druskin opened his mouth and turned red with embarrassment. Heaven forbid he mention the Countess’s humble activities before another male.

I answered for him, “She left the fire to relieve herself and didn’t come back, I found this note when I went to look for her.” I held up the offending paper and felt Druskin stiffen as Ilya crossed over and plucked the truth from my fingers. If he hadn’t figured it out before, he would now.

I will preserve the purity of the moors and springs, and bring strength to the line of Wuhn again.

A muscle feathered in Ilya’s jaw as he read.

Cordially, Adorjan Bulgar

Ilya crushed the paper.

“Lady Adel…of Wunhravinwel.” Ilya raised his hard eyes to mine. “Countess Adelhied Wuhn.”

I nodded. “You…startled her…” I offered, lamely.

“I told you, Ilya!” exclaimed Mihalak.

Ilya looked to each of us, her faithful retainers, in turn, his lips a stiff line. Turning away, he walked back toward his bedroll.

“We’ll find her,” said Druskin, in a gruff attempt at diplomacy, “Don’t fear, my lord, she will be at Gar Morwen for the wedding. And the King will have Bulgar’s head for this.”

Ilya reached his pack and stopped to look back at Druskin, “He won’t get the chance.” Then he scooped up his sword and strode into the night.

*

Thank you to my Patrons! I’m so grateful for your support.

Patrons, don’t forget to check out Zare’s Patreon for chapter format, maps, first looks, and other cool extras. Dear Readers, if you like Zare’s adventures, consider supporting on Patreon for as little as $1/month. If you can’t do that, I still love you! Another way you can support Zare is by subscribing, liking, commenting, and sharing Zare on social media with all your friends.

Till next time!

21 – Into the Hills

Three days passed and the moors gave way to rocky hills scattered with trees. I stayed close to the Countess whenever we rode, and Galo stayed close to her whenever we rested. Once or twice we saw figures in the distance and moved to lower ground to avoid detection. If the elves thought it was odd that we were just as eager as they were to remain unseen, they didn’t mention anything. Quill told me he’d learned Ilya Terr had divided his wedding party in the hopes of slipping across Wuhn territory unnoticed, rather than traveling in high estate on the main roads. There were several other groups of elves traveling across the moors under the cover of the mists, some had left a week ago to make up for their indirect path. The wedding would only be the beginning of peace, I realized.

Ilya’s unrelenting good humor had eventually eroded the Countess’s sense of propriety and she told him an awful story about elves stealing naughty children in the night to enslave them. He’d laughed. Their retinues had breathed a little easier. The evenings saw more conversation, and even the soft notes of a woodwind one of the elves had brought. No one was over-eager to talk about themselves, but hunting, fishing, and the best way to cook rabbit provided lively enough discussion. Ilya often looked at the Countess intently, like he’d forgotten something, staring at her thoughtfully until she noticed and he was forced to look away or say something witty.

At dusk the third day, we made camp in the shadow of a boulder near another little brook. The hills was covered thinly with tall pines, but they grew thick enough near the stream to hide the horses from casual eyes. We were in proper hills now. Boulders jutted from the earth in large and small mounds, offering additional protection from the wind and eyes. Clouds had rolled in that afternoon, and as the twilight deepened it became evident it would be a very dark night. As we watered the horses I turned to Quill, “Think anyone will notice if I disappear for an hour and come back a different color—but clean?”

“You’re very fastidious,” replied Quill.

I snorted, “For a person talking about bathing in a cold hill stream, you mean?”

One of the horses began to paw gleefully at the water, splashing everywhere and causing its neighbors to recoil as water hit their faces.

Quill tossed me a grin, and took a step closer to be heard over the splashing, “Three more days and we’ll be in Gar Morwen. Your quarters grander than those you left behind.”

“Feather beds?”

“Feather beds.”

“Enormous tub?”

“Big as a city fountain.”

“But…will you still cook for me?”

His turn to snort. “I’m certain you won’t be disappointed in their cooks.”

I gave him a skeptical look, just for effect, before backing my horses—who had finished drinking and were weeding—away from the water. “Your rabbit is exceptional, Quill, I’m just not sure I can live without it.”

*

After dinner I set up my bedroll next to the Countess, Galo on her other side, as usual, and fell asleep quickly.

I awoke with a start, Shiharr singing from its sheath as I bolted upright. Druskin recoiled with a startled grunt, losing his balance and landing on his rear in the dirt hand raised to ward my blow. I blinked at him, then quickly checked my knife for blood—it appeared clean, mercifully. “What is it?” I asked lowering Shiharr but not putting it away. “Are you alright?”

Druskin ran his hand over his face and picked himself up into a crouch, “The Countess,” he whispered, “She got up to relieve herself and hasn’t returned.”

Looking around, I saw that the Countess’s bedroll was, indeed, empty. Galo was looking up at us, her eyes foggy with sleep. We’d probably woken her when I’d nearly stabbed Druskin. A yawn clawed its way out of my mouth, and I stretched before sheathing Shiharr and slipping my harness of knives over my shoulders. I fumbled with the buckles. “I’ll go find her.” I pulled on my boots and laced them loosely before climbing to my feet and heading into the darkness in the direction Druskin pointed.

It took a moment to adjust to the utter dark away from the fire, but once I did, I could make out the black forms of rocks and trees. I made my way toward the boulder we’d used for this purpose earlier in the evening, taking care over the uneven ground. I called out quietly, “My lady?” as I rounded the edge of the rock.

Nothing.

She wasn’t there.

I turned and scanned the area. Trees climbed the hill to my left, and thinned to grass on my right. It was hard to tell much in the darkness with rocks casting lumpy shadows around. Could she have somehow tripped and hit her head? “My lady?” I raised my voice this time, “Adel?” I moved carefully around the whole area, expecting at any moment to step on a hand or trip over the Countess’s prone body.

Nothing.

I should have brought a torch.

My sleeve caught on a sapling and when I reached to free myself, I noticed a piece of folded paper twisting on the wind, tied to a branch. A moment of fumbling untied the string. The paper was very finely made, and sealed with wax. I cursed under my breath and headed back to the camp at a jog. Druskin was waiting at the edge of the firelight, tense and already concerned by my long absence and rapid approach. I thrust the letter at him and he stared, confused. “That’s…the Bulgar seal…” he said.

I nodded, “And addressed to you,” I pointed at the fine black ink now visible in the firelight. Druskin tore open the seal and skimmed the letter. His face turned red and he cursed, and I snatched the letter from his fingers before he could tear it in a rage. Druskin spun helplessly and kicked the earth as I read the note, my heart sinking.

Galo sat up from her bedroll, “What’s wrong?”

The elf on duty, Mihalak, Ilya’s second, stood up from where he’d been leaning against a tree. “What is it?”

“It says, ‘Druskin, she is safe, don’t come for her. I will preserve the purity of the moors and springs, and bring strength to the line of Wuhn again. Cordially, Adorjan Bulgar, Count of Bulgarrinwel.’”

*

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

20 – Traveling companions

“You are damn lucky I like you,” I jabbed Quill’s chest with my finger.

“Is that why you work with me?”

“When you still work with them?” I jerked my chin toward the fire where Rakov was sitting.

“Indeed,” Quill was still smiling, I could hear it in his voice, but he shook his head. “You’re a snob, Zare.”

And that’s why I work with you.”

A laugh chuffed out of him. “Is that so? What’s Eliah’s pass on censure?”

I shrugged, “I like her, too.”  Eliah was also the only female friend I had who cared as much about weapons and horseflesh. Not that I had many female friends.

“Do you like anyone else from my company”

“Jemin,” I answered.

“That’s it?”

“I like Brimborren.”

“My horse?”

“Is there another Brimborren?” The horse snorted and I reached over to pat his neck. I actually didn’t know most of the company very well, but I disliked the Breaker and his methods, and Rakov was one of his closest associates. I disliked being kept in the dark. “Is there anything else I should know about this little venture?”

“That the plan,” Quill straightened from leaning on Brimborren’s shoulder and turned to face me, his tone serious, “is to not need to face an assassin. I didn’t expect to see Rakov and Rae’d at all. Not up close, anyway. Of course, the plan also didn’t include angry mobs, bloodthirsty zealots, and sneaking across the moors.”

I moved closer, lowering my voice to avoid even the faintest chance of being overheard, “You’re slipping, Quill. Your plans usually go a bit better than this.”

He also bent closer, “Nonsense. I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

I put my hand on Brimborren’s neck to steady myself, wishing I could see his face, rather than just imagine the look in his dark eyes. “She claims she has no jilted lovers, at least.”

“Not even that lovesick loon who wrote a letter?”

“Not even. Though he certainly mourns not gaining her alliance for himself.”

“So, still jilted. One way or another”

“I suppose.”

“I’ll find out in Gar Morwen, it’s possible Ayglos and Jemin already know.”

We fell quiet for a moment, then I said, “It’s certainly going to be an interesting journey now,” I tilted my head toward the fire and our elven company.

“What are you talking about?” Quill leaned so close his breath brushed my face, “It was an interesting journey before.”

*

Quill and I returned to the fire at different times, though I was certain no one was fooled. Humans and elves shared the watch duties, neither trusting the other to watch alone. Without the leanyodi ruse, I took watch duty with the rest. My eyes wandered often from the dark moors to Quill, sleeping with his saddle for a pillow. My mind kept returning to how close we’d stood and all possible interpretations of “interesting already.” When I noticed the elf watching me, a faint smile in his eyes, I made a determined effort to look elsewhere for the rest of the watch.

Eventually, I woke Luza for his turn and gladly gave myself back to sleep. In the morning, low clouds shrouded the dawn in shades of gray and blue. The Countess and Galo were bleary eyed and moving slowly. They ate in silence while the rest of us broke camp, and wordlessly accepted Druskin and Luza’s help mounting. I sidled my horse close to them, “Riding again will help,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“A day at the hot springs would help, too,” replied Galo.

I smirked and started to sidle away but Druskin caught my eye. Ilya Terr was riding over to the Countess and I was to stay by her side.

“Lady Adel, are we ready to leave?” the elf bowed slightly in the saddle.

The Countess nodded, “Yes, I believe we are.”

He fell in beside her and we led the procession out of the hollow and continued south. Druskin and Galo rode immediately behind us. Elves and men mingled in the informal train, no one willing to be far from their lieges. Today, with exhaustion and soreness wearing at her poise, the Countess was having an easier time playing the part of a lesser noble. She and Ilya Terr exchanged polite conversation sporadically all morning, and I faithfully rode at the Countess’s side in silence.

“There is a copse of trees to the south,” said the elf, pointing. “There is likely water there, we could stop there and water the horses.”

He was right, there was a stream there. I said nothing.

The Countess squinted in the direction he pointed, and then started to look uncomfortable. “I do not see trees.”

“I can feel them,” explained the elf.

“The stories we have about your people,” began the Countess, hesitantly, “Say that the forests do the bidding of the elves. That you can tell the trees to guard your borders, and they will—to not grow in a glen, and they won’t.”

Ilya looked at her, “They do, but not just any elf’s bidding.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like,” he paused, searching for words, “Some are good musicians because they practice, some are good musicians because they are gifted—but it’s also like training an animal or making a friend. You must learn to speak to the trees, and then they must also respond to you. The forests do not bend just to anyone who can speak to them.”

“Does the forest respond to you?” asked the Countess.

A proud smile flickered across Ilya’s face, “It is my forest.”

The Countess turned back to the moors, “Our stories also say mankind was given the land, but I have never heard it speak.”

“Our stories,” replied the elf, “say mankind wasn’t satisfied with the dirt and asked Shaddai for a different gift, so losing their connection with the land.”

Both the Countess and I looked at him. Ilya was relaxed, looking at the moors with a peaceful expression, as if he hadn’t just insinuated that mankind was greedy. “And what gift was that?” said the Countess, her voice guarded.

“Foresight,” continued Ilya, “The gift of seeing the future. Truly, the other children of Shaddai were upset they had not thought of asking for this gift. But Shaddai was so angry with man for the insolence that the land shook, the seas rose and fire rained down. No one dared asking for the same gift. Not even when, determining that mankind clearly needed the help, Shaddai granted it.”

For a moment, only the sound of hooves thudding on earth and stones filled the air around us. Ilya stole a glance at us, the Countess was thin lipped, and I was fairly certain my expression was similar. And then he laughed.

The Countess jumped like she’d been slapped, then she exclaimed, “You don’t really have that story about us!”

“Well,” Ilya laughed again, “We do. But we have other versions. Less unflattering.”

“Why would you tell me that one?” she demanded. “It’s insulting.”

Ilya didn’t have an answer for her, but his eyes were twinkling and I decided I liked him. After a long moment he said, “My apologies, lady, please, tell me a bad story you have about the elves and I will not be offended.”

She stared at him, clearly taken aback by his humor. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am!” Ilya assured her.

“I…Our stories…” she stammered, blushed, and fell silent.

“If you don’t tell me a story, I will assume that they are all completely hideous.”

“You are very improper,” retorted the Countess.

My lips were twisting into a smile and I couldn’t stop them.

Ilya noticed. “What about you? Will you tell me a story?”

“I will,” I replied, “But my story is not an Angari story, so it should offend men and elves equally.”

“Speak on.”

The Countess darted a worried glance at me.

I ignored her, “Eloi made the sea, and raised from its bed mountains and valleys, and filled it with forests that bent in the current. Then he raised some of the mountains higher, and formed from them the land, which he also filled with mountains and valleys and forests that bent in the breeze.

“Eloi made the nymphs, and gave to them the sea to guard. Then he made the elves and gave to them the land. The nymphs spread throughout the whole sea; some took the mountains, some the valleys, still others went to tend the streams and rivers on land that forever return to the sea.

“But the elves liked the forests best, and neglected the mountains and the open places, so Eloi made dwarves to tend the stone slopes and man to tend the earth.”

Ilya grunted critically, “This is a nymphish myth.”

I ignored him, too, “Each of the land peoples thought their duty was most important, and they sometimes fought about who was foremost in Serrifis. It was after one bloody battle between the peoples that the human prince, Benedek, went to a river to drink and wash the blood off his face. It had been a brutal conflict, and he was tired. He did not see the nymph weeping on the banks of the river until he was kneeling on the shore with his hands in the water. He was struck by her beauty, and even moreso by her sorrow, and he asked her why she was crying. ‘My river is filled with blood,’ she told him, and her sorrow was so great that it filled him with sorrow also. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘let me help you clean the river.’ He said this because he wanted to make her happy, not because he understood why she cared so much about the river. Yet, his words encouraged her, and she told him her name was Ayglara, and she was the princess of her people. While he helped her strain the blood from the river, he tried to explain what the battle had been about. She did not understand and while he was talking to her, Benedek did not understand either.

“Benedek found that he desired to live in peace, caring for both the open places and the river with Ayglara by his side. He loved the river because he loved Ayglara, and thought that perhaps he could learn to understand the other peoples if he had a little help. So, he prayed to Eloi and asked for another gift—the gift of Sight, so that he could see and understand the peoples and bring an end to the bloodshed.

“Eloi was so impressed with Benedek’s request and the honor in his heart that he granted the request. True to his word, Benedek used his gift to make peace between the peoples.  He made a home for his clan by Ayglara’s river. Eloi saw the peace between his children, and was pleased. As a reward for Benedek’s honor and wisdom with his gift, Eloi allowed Benedek’s gift to flow into mankind and spread to their children and grandchildren for the rest of time.” I finished, then added, “It was much more dramatic and beautiful when I heard it from a minstrel.”

“I thought this story was supposed to be equally offensive,” said Ilya mildly, “It favors mankind.”

“I could tell it again and make it a bloody tree and have Ayglara be an elf.” I just wouldn’t let my grandfather know I’d done it.

“Yes, that would be much better,” said Ilya, smiling. Brell would have fainted, I thought, if she had seen the way his face lit when he smiled.

“I don’t understand,” said the Countess, “You aren’t…bothered…you’re so…flippant.”

“Not what you pictured?”

“No.”

I thought she might be also be thinking he wasn’t like the elf she’d met in Gar Morwen during formal treaty negotiations. But here, on the moors, as a stranger, she was seeing a different version of the elf she was marrying.

Ilya paused before answering her, “Truthfully, I am not normally quite this light. But I’m on the way to my wedding and I’m about to end a blood feud myself. Not unlike Benedek. I think I’m allowed to be generous in my opinions for a few days.”

*

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

16-Knives at Night

 

We were already running when a sentry shouted the alarm. More torches followed the first and the carriage started to smoke and burn. I drew my knives and saw blades flashing in Quill’s hands as we charged—barefoot—back toward the camp. Men ran toward the burning carriage, themselves just silhouettes against the dying campfires.

“It’s a distraction!” I panted.

“Make sure Druskin has the Countess!” commanded Quill, “Then we hunt!”

I nodded, increasing speed as Quill peeled off to my right to circle around the outside of the camp. Shouting increased and one of the figures running past the fire dropped to the ground with a cry. Arrows from the darkness. Given the general lack of trees, our ambushers must have crawled in through the tall grasses, and driven off the horses so they couldn’t be pursued. Then they torched a carriage to turn all eyes there…I ignored everyone as I cleared the circle of carriages and ran across the flattened grass to the tents. Off duty guards were stumbling out of their bedrolls unarmored and with swords in their hands. They were drawn immediately toward the commotion at the burning carriage. No one paid me any mind. The flap to the Countess’s tent was loose and I hesitated only a second before diving in, knives out.

It was dark except for the brazier.

I crept forward; my bare feet soundless on the woven rugs. The Countess stirred in her nest of cushions; alive. Good. I scanned the shadows of the tent as I approached.

Nothing.

Shifting my knives into the same hand, I dropped to my knees beside her and touched her shoulder. “Grofnu,” I said, “Wake up.”

The Countess jolted, eyes flying open, and fixing on something over my shoulder.

I spun, to see a figure charging from the tent entrance sword raised. I just had time to shift my knives into both hands and rise to meet him. He’d expected no resistance and died in two strokes, his eyes were wide in shock as his sword fell from his grasp and he crumbled to the ground. The Countess shrieked. I pushed his body away from her bed, ignoring the slick of blood on my hands and clothes. Black hair and eyes, olive skin, and the square jaw of the Wuhn. I don’t know why I’d expected anything else. He wore leather armor, but it wasn’t anything special, and not the same quality or color as the Countess’s retinue. I glanced at the Countess, she was pale, clutching her nightgown around her throat, eyes fixed on the dead man. “Do you know him?” I asked.

She shook her head.

She looked like she was going to be sick.

I grabbed the bowl off the folding table and offered it to her. Her gaze shifted from the body to the bowl—only to fixate on the bloody trail my fingers left on the rim. She seized the bowl and turned away, retching. I rolled my lips together and tried to block out the sound. I’d seen enough death to be hardened…I would never understand why vomit was still a problem. Focusing on the shouting outside, I turned to face the entrance and wait for the next attacker. The Countess was still gasping when the tent flap flew open and Druskin burst in. He was shirtless, and the sword in his hand was bloodied. His eyes were wild as he saw the body, my blades, and then the Countess behind me—alive.

“Grofnu!” he cried, barely making it to her bedside before dropping to his knees. “Are you hurt, grofnu?” he almost reached for her, but his hands were nearly as dirty as mine.

“I’m fine,” she managed, voice croaking.

Galo ran in, her face white and clothes completely disheveled. “Grofnu!” she covered her mouth with one hand as she beheld all the blood, but she kept coming, clutching her jacket closed with the other hand. The Countess reached for her and she dropped onto the cushions, wrapping both arms around the Countess.

“Stay with her,” I ordered starting toward the tent flap, “I’m going hunting.”

Druskin looked up at me, a faint glitter in his eye at my tone, but he nodded. “Find them all,” his tone was the unyielding ice of winter.

*

There were more bodies at the tent entrance, evidently Druskin had arrived in time to keep me from fighting more. The one carriage was well and truly burning, and I could see other fights and casualties in its glow. I glimpsed the leanyodi emerging from our tent as I made for edge the camp, slipping outside the circle of carriages to where darkness awaited. I crouched, letting my eyes adjust and wiping Shiharr and Azzad on the grass.

Slowly, the hills resolved into a deeper black than the sky and I began to move forward, head cocked to listen. From the camp I could still here the roar of the fire, shouting, and the clash of steel as the guards dealt with the intruders.

It had only been a minute or two since the stream raised the alarm. The most efficient retreat would have to be over the bluff, where they could disappear from view on the other side far more quickly than if they first crossed the road. I slowed as I neared the top of the bluff, not wanting to a be silhouette against the night sky.

“Psst.”

The sound came from my right, and I turned, just making out the pale hair of Eliah.

“Eliah.”

“Quill’s already started down, we can hear horses,” answered the hunter. “The Countess?”

“With Druskin,” I answered.

“Good, let’s move.”

“So bossy.”

We moved quickly, crouching lower until we were crawling through the grass over the ridge and down the other side. We could just see the horses, heads high as they marked our approach. There was a figure moving among them. I stood up. “Quill, you didn’t leave any for us!”

The figure stopped, “There was only one, what was I supposed to do?”

I walked forward, Eliah coming behind me. “Did you kill him?”

“No,” Quill lifted a rope and waved it, “Help me tie him up and carry him back to camp.”

“Oh sure,” Eliah grumbled, “We get to help you carry things.”

I lingered with the horses while Eliah helped Quill tie up an unconscious man. I stroked the animals, making introductions and scratching under their manes while I looked over their tack. The gear was reasonably well made, but nothing special. Just like the armor.

“Zephra, are you going to play with the horses all night?” Quill said.

I paused my collecting of reins, “I’m the proud new owner of—I don’t know, twenty?—Angari horses. If you ask nicely maybe I’ll let you use one to carry your prisoner.”

“I don’t think they’ll let you keep them,” said Eliah.

“That didn’t sound particularly nice,” I replied.

“Don’t provoke her, Eliah,” grunted Quill. “Help me lift this man.”

*

Special thank you to my Patrons, I am so grateful for your support! Thanks for coming on this journey with me.

Share Zare with your friends and we will be a merry company.

92-Into Danger

 

The next part was my idea. Trinh’s tunnel connected us to the warren of narrow passages the guard and the servants used to move about the palace, and there we divided. Rakov and Trinh went ahead to scout Naran and Hess’s quarters while the rest of us went to get Hew, Naran’s favorite hound, from the kennels. The palace was unnaturally quiet, as if all the inhabitants had disappeared into thin air. They had probably all done their very best to do just that rather than risk becoming a target of the Queen’s wrath. We didn’t pass close to anyone until we were entering the servant’s quarters with Hew in tow. A few men in servant’s gray, who had clearly been on their way somewhere, stopped moving when they saw Ayglos—who was walking in front wearing the black uniform of the Queen’s guard. They shrank against the wall, eyes averted, until we passed by in a swirl of dark cloaks and silence.

When we reached Hesperides’ door, Quill pushed it open without knocking. Rakov and Trinh were waiting inside, weapons drawn.

Putting away his sword, Trinh stepped forward and crouched in front of Hew. The hound, being only half bloodhound, was enormous and stood nose to nose with the crouching King. In the weeks I’d known Hew he’d already started to fit his long limbs far better than he had when we’d met. He’d come with me eagerly when I’d woken half the kennel to get him. Though I’d never taken him anywhere he followed with the trustful enthusiasm which made dogs so disarming. Sensing our urgency, he hadn’t made a sound for the entire trip, and had stayed so close to me that the leash seemed entirely unnecessary. It would be different once he was hunting.

Trinh held a bit of cloth out to the hound and Hew reached for it eagerly. My heart seized as I realized that it was a shirt. Was Naran really so small?

Trinh said something in a language I didn’t recognize but Hew did. The hound immediately dropped his nose to the ground and headed out the door. I had to trot to keep up and could hear the others fall in behind us.

Hew’s nails clicked on the polished wood floors, and I was grateful he didn’t bay as he darted down the hallways with unwavering fervor. We quickly left the servants quarters and entered the main palace, passing anti-chambers and ministerial rooms until we came face to face with a wall of black clad guards.

Hew would have plowed through the wall without stopping, but I checked him. Without missing a beat Ayglos strode past me and snarled at the guards, “Let us through, the hound is on a scent.”

“Who are you?” demanded one of the guards.

“We are the Queen’s Huntsmen,” replied Ayglos, stepping closer to the line of guards. “We are hunting an intruder.”

“No one is to be admitted to this wing by order of the Queen,” replied the guard.

“Fools, someone is already inside.”

“We have heard nothing.”

“Unsurprising,” snorted Ayglos.

The guard bristled.

We didn’t have time for this. In two strides I was holding a knife against the guard’s throat and stillness fell over the others. “Don’t risk the wrath of the Queen,” I purred.

He glared at me. “You Huntsmen,” he spat, “So high and mighty. You think you’re the only ones worthy to serve the Queen.”

So, there were Huntsmen. I thought Ayglos had been making things up.

The man continued, “No one has entered this wing, and even if they had, half the army is behind us. We can protect the Queen just as well as you.”

He wasn’t going to let us through. As tremulous and desperate as this plan was, it was our only plan. If we didn’t get Naran and Hesperide out tonight, there might not be another chance. We were too few, and she had too many and too much. For a single breath I considered the blade against the guard’s skin and thought of the blade in Tarr. My voice was thick as I asked, “Can you protect her from ghosts?” I stepped back and swung my free hand flat against his temple; senseless, he fell back into the other guards.

Startled cries and the sing of weapons filled the hallway. Hew backed up a step, his tail tucked. I dropped the leash to reach for Azzad.

A guard swung his sword at my head and I dodged, my knife sinking into him and my other hand clubbing his temple with Azzad. I was aware of the men tearing into the other guards without a word. The fight was over in moments, and we were five cloaked figures standing over a pile of black uniformed bodies.

“I guess it’s time to adjust the plan,” commented Ayglos, stooping to clean his knives.

“Well, they’ll know something is up,” replied Trinh drily.

“Do we leave them here?” I asked.

“Hide half of them,” said Quill. He opened a nearby door, revealing an empty anti-room.

The bodies were heavy and awkward, but we moved six bodies out of the hallway and scattered the others a little to obscure the streaks on the floor. Some were just unconscious, we tried to make sure these were in the room. Anything to add confusion and delay to any who hunted for us. Perhaps they would think they had traitors among them. It was gruesome work and I was as glad to leave as Hew, though perhaps for different reasons. Trinh offered the hound the shirt again, in case he’d forgotten because of the fight, and Hew barely looked at it before returning to the trail only he could find.

Ayglos kept pace with me, the other three fell in behind us like geese.

“How did you know she has Huntsmen?” I whispered.

My brother glanced at me, “They are why I was late getting back. They sensed me one night when I got close to the Queen’s camp. I spent the rest of the trip trying to stay ahead of them without running into the armies or patrols.”

“Sensed?”

“They never used hounds—at least that I saw—but they always seemed to find me. Or, to get close,” replied Ayglos, keeping his voice low. “I gathered from listening in at campfires that they are called Huntsmen, but not for hunting game. They hunt people, mostly. Special order of the Queen, and some serve as her personal guard. They are disliked and feared by the army.”

I frowned. “They sound more like…assassins?” Hew charged brazenly around a corner. When an empty hallway opened before us I asked, “How did you elude them?”

“I…” Ayglos hesitated, “…don’t…know…”

“You don’t know?” I was incredulous.

“There is a lot going on here that doesn’t make sense,” added Ayglos hurriedly, as if getting words out before he could change his mind, “I am good at remaining unseen and leaving no trail, but they would find me anyway—it was either the worst luck or magic because they nearly caught me dozens of times but…” he swallowed, “an apparition of a woman with golden-hair always warned me. I know it sounds crazy, but she stayed with me that whole scouting trip. I couldn’t always see her, but I know she was there and she saved my life on several occasions.”

My steps faltered. “You—” I stammered, “You saw her?”

Ayglos shot me a startled look: As if that had very much not been the response he’d expected. “You saw her?” he demanded.

“No,” I shook my head, “Not exactly…She slapped me—and she yelled at me—to wake me up when I was drugged—did you hear about that?”

“You were drugged?” asked Ayglos, then he shook his head, dismissing his own question. “We’ve hardly been in close conference these months. But I am comforted that I’m not alone in encountering her.”

“Assuming it’s the same spirit,” I replied. My mind was sprinting from one thought to the next, barely holding an idea long enough to draw conclusions I was so excited. Golden hair, though, ruled out Nelia. “Did you talk to her?”

Hew bayed, causing both of us to jump in a manner quite unbefitting our rank and costume. The hound lunged eagerly against the leash. We must be getting close.