Plague of Shadows Page 14

  "The god of the counting house."

  "The god of a good and noble knight. And," she said, saying more than she intended, "a good and noble half-orc."

  "Good and noble?" Alavar repeated in astonishment. "Until now I have never heard such words associated with an orc of any blood. Tell me, young one who calls herself Elyana, of the bloodline of Sadrastis, if I take this creature into my lands, will you accept responsibility for him? If he troubles my folk, I shall judge him harshly, and his penalty shall be yours. Think quickly!"

  Elyana studied the half-orc, glowering at the elves who ringed him: two with bows and a one with a leveled spear.

  "Do you trust him with your life?" Alavar pressed.

  "Yes," Elyana said, and realized that she did.

  Alavar considered her for a long moment, then raised a hand. "Lower weapons," he commanded.

  Instantly the bowmen did as he bade, returning arrows to quivers. The fellow with the spear on Drelm withdrew his weapon with visible reluctance.

  "We can be trusted utterly," Alavar told them in the common speech of Taldor. His accent was very slight, and Elyana had no trouble understanding him. His manner, though, remained stiff. "If you act as guests, you will be treated as such."

  "We thank you," Vallyn said with a bow. Renar and Kellius followed suit, Drelm a moment later, his bow slow and deep.

  "I, too, thank you," Elyana said.

  A thin smile crossed Alavar's lips, and once more he spoke only to her, in Elven. "You are very interesting, Elyana. Do you know, a nephew of mine once met one of your bloodline."

  She herself had only met a few of them. "I regret that I am unacquainted with many of my kinsmen."

  "You will find none here, alas, but you will doubtless take pleasure in my people, who will welcome you, and share food and lodging, and sing for you."

  "I welcome your hospitality," Elyana said, hoping she remembered the proper response to Alavar's formal invitation.

  Only Elyana was allowed to keep all her weapons, though the elves permitted everyone to retain their knives. Drelm's scowl made it clear he was especially skeptical about relinquishing his arms.

  Vallyn sidled up to Elyana as they started along the trail. "That was tense," he whispered. "You're a better diplomat than I remember."

  "I didn't know you spoke Elven."

  The bard shrugged. "How could I not? Your folk have too many good songs."

  The nearest elven warrior, a dark-haired woman, eyed them curiously for a long moment, but did not return Vallyn's smile. To his eyes, Elyana remembered, all elves would look beautiful.

  Their trail took them to a wall of massive stone, dotted in frost, unremarkable save that a set of footprints had emerged as if by magic from its face. No entry point was visible. Alavar stopped at the stone and whispered a word; a ten-foot section of the wall swung inward soundlessly, and Alavar strode after it.

  He was followed first by a trio of his own soldiers, and then Elyana. She walked into a hallway of smooth stone, just tall enough that she could not reach the ceiling without stretching her arm full length, and just wide enough for three, if they were very close. To human eyes the way would have seemed dimly lit, but the phosphorescent green fungus strategically growing on low niches every thirty paces was more than enough light for her.

  The horses nickered, nervously, only to be calmed by the elves who led them behind the group. Elyana glanced back to look over her charges, both equine and human. And half-orc, she thought. Vallyn looked curious, but subdued. The wizard and Renar peered at everything in great fascination. Drelm met her eyes, his expression wary. She nodded her head slightly to him, meaning to be of some reassurance, but he did not respond.

  He had saved her life there on the cliff, just as she had called to his horse to pull him to safety. She did not really care for his look, or his manner—or, for that matter, his smell. And he was rude. What did it say about her that she was more comfortable with him than with her own people? She frowned at the thought.

  The corridor curved gradually as it wound into the mountain. At times they passed entrances to other passages, some of which stretched away on a level track; others veered up, and some sloped sharply down. Each was demarcated by an alcove with a life-sized statue of an elven warrior and a word or four at eye level beside the opening. The elven words were carved deeply with precise skill, directing readers to such places as Rainbow Tier and the Outer Walk. At no time did they pass other elves. The hallways, however, seemed well tended. There was no dust, and the only intruders, aside from themselves, were occasional pale insects that she spotted upon walls and floors.

  They walked through the cavern for more than half an hour, stopping finally at another wall. This one, though, opened before them without Alavar raising a hand. Elven warriors mailed in green lacquered breastplates and helms waited tensely on its far side, their hoods cast back across their shoulders. Alavar exchanged greetings and left his guests waiting while he held a quick conversation with the tallest of his warriors. This fellow asked one or two questions, then slipped away.

  Alavar turned back to them with a proud smile. "Welcome to the Hold of Elistia, Fortress of the Bluffs."

  She repeated the greeting to her comrades, who bowed, even Drelm, following Vallyn's example.

  Elyana nodded a greeting to the dour guards and stepped into the sunlight after Alavar and his lieutenants. Hundreds of feet overhead hung a stone ceiling that gave way to a horizontal cave entrance a mile wide, the entire chamber forming one monumental niche in the mountainside. The sun streamed in sideways from the opening to warm tall, spindly buildings shaped from rock and brick. Walkways stretched between their upper stories. The chatter of folk reached her ears, including the laughter of children and the clack of their play swords. Somewhere, too, was the strum of a harp, and a trio of female voices soared in heart-rending harmony. The smell of baking bread and spiced tombor root washed over her. So sweet was the scent that she had to gulp back saliva.

  Alavar ordered all but three of his men away and told them to see to the care of the animals. He then tasked the remaining trio with the care of their guests.

  "Enjoy our hospitality," Alavar told the newcomers in lightly accented Taldane. "Take your rest and eat of our goods, though you should not fill yourselves. There will be a dinner tonight in your honor." He did not need to add that he was not sure that his guests deserved it, for it was clear from his tone.

  "Captain Drelm, is it?" Alavar said, then continued without waiting for an answer. He was not, Elyana noticed, actually looking at the half-orc. "Be advised that your kind has never before been welcomed here. Move carefully, and make no sudden movements, lest your intentions be misunderstood."

  Drelm's head bowed curtly. "I understand."

  "Elyana. I would be honored if you accompanied me."

  Elyana raised a hand to her companions and then left with the wizard lord.

  Though outwardly calm, Elyana was troubled, for she was not certain that her limited time among the elves of Kyonin would see her in good stead in this place. She was certain she would forget proper forms of phrase or praise, or that she would simply behave in a human way and be judged rude and uncouth. There was nothing to be done about it, and she had enough wisdom to shrug off her discomfort, but she was still ill at ease.

  Alavar led her toward the sunlight of the cave entrance, which caught whiter highlights in the sentinel's hair. He was trim and athletic, and Elyana found herself wondering just how old he was. Were he human, she would guess late forties, but she was around elves so rarely she had little experience gauging their ages.

  After a few dozen feet they climbed a worn wooden staircase, the handrail of which was smooth with the passage of uncounted hundreds of years. The steps hugged the side of a building for three stories and stopped at a terrace, from which Elyana could look down ov
er a vast open garden.

  The elves of Elistia had found a long cavity in the mountainside and shaped it into their home. Looking right and left, Elyana perceived that the cliff dwelling stretched at least a half-mile wide, and sat a good quarter-mile into the rock. Gardens and trees grew in the space, for they were well below the level of the heights over which they had but recently climbed. There was yet a hint of chill in the air, but it was just a kiss, not a bite, and while the elves strolling in the gardens or tending its many colored fruit below wore long sleeves, the plants they tended seemed to flourish.

  "We have a kind of paradise here, Elyana," Alavar told her.

  "I see that. The view is striking."

  Beyond the garden she saw the cavern rim, and a hint of greenery below. Beyond the rim lay the brown and gray mountain wall on the other side of the river gorge, ornamented with an occasional stubborn tree or shrub.

  "How high up are we?"

  "Elistia was built within this narrow cavern that lies only a few hundred feet above the floor of the canyon," Alavar answered. "A few small homes stand on the river shore, guarded by a tower. But most of our people dwell here. All elves," he said with a pointed look, "are welcome."

  "Thank you."

  He glanced at her from time to time as they strolled together, making sure he had her attention. "Sometimes folk are called away, to seek their brightness, or for wanderlust. I have never completely understood their yearning, but it is well enough. Folk like yourselves, though, who are torn from us, always sadden me."

  "You do not need to feel sorrow upon my account."

  "But I do," he said quickly. "You know what you are called."

  Well she did, and it was an apt enough descriptor. "Forlorn."

  "Yes. And forlorn you seem. But how could you not be, raised apart from your folk, exposed constantly to the death and cruelties of the lesser races?"

  Elyana stiffened, but did not look at him. Neither her family nor her friends were of lesser races. It was not now time to correct him, but she was not sure that she could resist if the slights were to continue.

  "Sometimes," he continued gently, "when the Forlorn return, they are seen as strange outsiders, and are made to feel unwelcome. I wish you to know—I pledge to you, Elyana—that you are welcome."

  Elyana inclined her head. "That is very kind of you."

  "I am certain that you hunger for both food and drink. These things you must have, and then you must meet the lord of Elistia. To him you will have to explain your reasons for bringing visitors to our land."

  Elyana bowed her head.

  Alavar clapped his hands once, and a young elven woman hopped down a smaller set of stairs from a veranda above. She smiled brightly at Elyana.

  "Elyana, this is my niece, Aliel. She will see to your needs. Aliel, Elyana will have to be made ready for the High Lord in two hours' time."

  "I will see to it, Uncle." Aliel's voice was bright and clear. She smiled so infectiously that Elyana could not hold off smiling in return.

  "Come, cousin!" The young lady offered her hand and Elyana took it.

  Aliel led her deep into the halls of the building attached to the veranda, one Elyana realized was at least partly given over to Alavar's family. She gained a vague impression of halls set with wide windows, balconies blooming with flowering plants, and finely crafted floorboards covered with intricately woven rugs, but so quickly did Aliel lead and so quickly came her questions that Elyana kept pace only with difficulty.

  "I almost never see strangers," the woman said pleasantly. "Is it true that you come from beyond the mountains? And with humans? How many are with you?"

  As quickly as Elyana answered one question, more followed. Chiefly they concerned the habits and customs of humans, particularly their appearance, the speed of their growth, and the sorts of food they enjoyed. The young lady was insatiably curious, and it was with some relief that Elyana encouraged her departure from the room with the bath. Most elves she'd met had no trouble chatting while naked, but Elyana had been brought up by humans and preferred privacy.

  Aliel swooped back in after Elyana's bath was complete, speaking so rapidly that Elyana had to ask her to slow down so that she could understand the Elven words.

  "I've picked out any number of dresses for you to select from this evening," Aliel repeated cheerily. "So many of the ladies were ready to give theirs up to you that I couldn't refuse any of them. Don't you know? They're all so thrilled that you've come from so very far away and are dying to hear all about it!"

  "How nice," Elyana said, still drying her ears with a towel. She'd wrapped herself in a thick brown fur robe and now stood, a little wet and bemused, contemplating a bed heaped with a bewildering array of dresses in a rainbow assortment, though all were long-sleeved and seemed to approximate her build.

  "There certainly are a lot of dresses there," she offered lamely.

  "Don't you think they're lovely?"

  Elyana allowed that they were. "I had planned merely to wear the change of clothes I had in my travel pack."

  "Those things?" Aliel failed to conceal her amazement. "No, no, no. Those might be fine out on the road, but you really don't want to wear them here, do you?"

  "Um. A sword will look awfully strange on my hip while I'm wearing a dress."

  Aliel stared at her a moment, then laughed. "Oh, you're so droll! I like that. That's funny."

  Elyana settled on a calf-length dress of brown and violet, then left with Aliel for another chamber set with lavender-scented candles and many mirrors. Here the young woman helped Elyana arrange her hair, braiding it into two intricate knots behind her head, arranging the rest of her hair to hang long and straight. It was a far more elaborate look than Elyana had used for many years, but the result did not displease her. As she turned her head right and left to consider her profile, she imagined that she might have looked thus if her birth parents had survived to return with her to Kyonin all those years before. Then she might feel less like she were playing dress-up.

  "I think you look wonderful," Aliel told her.

  They then sat together before a window seat and listened to the trilling of song birds outside while they consumed the light pastries her folk were so adept at making, and drank of a sweet wine superior even to the Galtan vintage. Once Elyana settled back, content and fairly relaxed, Aliel asked if she were ready to meet the lord. Elyana said that she was.

  Aliel reached for a shelf on her right, lifted a little chime, and rang it.

  Elyana was amazed. "You summon your lord with a bell?"

  "Why should I not?"

  Elyana wasn't sure she could explain. She couldn't imagine someone summoning Stelan that way, no matter that he was the most humble of knights. It simply wasn't respectful.

  When Elyana turned at the sound of a soft footstep in the doorway she saw Alavar standing under the arch. He had changed from travel clothes to more regal raiment, complete with a glittering golden diadem seated in his smooth white hair. His leggings were of jet black, so dark she could imagine stars shining in their depths, and the matching doublet over his white shirt sparkled with gold thread.

  Elyana rose and bowed her head respectfully. Too late she remembered that she wore a dress, and lifted up a handful of the garment to curtsy as Aliel was already doing.

  Alavar responded with a regal inclination of his head. "Greetings, niece, and Cousin Elyana." He faced Elyana. "I hope that you have found our accommodations hospitable?"

  "Very much so, thank you, Lord." She added the last after the slightest hesitation.

  "I am pleased to hear it. Thank you, Aliel. That will be all for now."

  "It was my pleasure, Lord and Uncle." Aliel curtsied again, and another smile bubbled up on her lips as she straightened. "I shall see you soon, Elyana!" With that, she glided away.

&nb
sp; Alavar then considered Elyana once more.

  Although Elyana was fully dressed, from flowered hair to pearl-sewn slippers, she felt strangely exposed. This was the first time in a long while that she had walked anywhere without at least a knife at her belt.

  The lord misinterpreted her expression. "Those clothes suit you well, Elyana, but you appear troubled. Are they uncomfortable?"

  "I did not know that you were lord, Lord."

  "While I am abroad I am merely the captain of the Sentinels," he said dismissively. "Unless I am in my official capacity, I insist upon being addressed as Alavar, or Uncle, in my niece's case. I do not care overmuch for ceremony, or the court life, or I would not have requested service at this outpost. Please, sit." Alavar walked forward and indicated the table with its two chairs by the open window. Elyana returned to her seat.

  Alavar slid in across from her. "Your campaign to stamp out the shadow wizards of Galt and Taldor is not unknown to some of us upon the border. Your blood cousins spoke of you with a peculiar pride, saying that your grandfather's spirit ran strong within you. It is his sword you bear, is it not?"

  "It is," she said in surprise. "If you recognized my name, why did you not say so?"

  "I wished to confirm your identity. I understand that you were challenged for the right to bear the sword when you once returned to visit elven lands, and that you overcame the challenge with a pronounced success."

  "That is true."

  Alavar smiled thinly. "Even when speaking your true tongue, your answers sound like those of a human."

  "I don't agree," Elyana replied. "Some humans are just as long-winded as elves."

  Alavar favored her with a bland look, then smoothed out his doublet. "You are an interesting enigma to me, Elyana, and I would like to be of help to you. I hope you do not object terribly to this more formal audience, which is still less formal than custom might demand."