Read The Betrayal Online

Authors: Pati Nagle

The Betrayal (38 page)

Turisan.

Eliani! I have been waiting

are you all right?

Yes. We have news.

News?

A rider has come from Fireshore.

A moment's silence followed. She could sense his amazement, though it seemed muted. She realized that this was because she was holding herself closed, not sharing all of herself with him. She had done the same when they first had found the gift.

This is good news! I must tell my father.

Yes, please do. I need to know whether he wishes me to ride on or return.

He is in the feast hall. It will not take me long to reach him.

Eliani waited, huddled in her cloak. A cool night breeze kissed her cheek, and she shivered. She did not want to think about Kelevon, so she distracted herself
with thoughts of the feast hall at Hallowhall. She pitied the poor bard who was composing a grand ballad about her and Turisan. His song might now end rather abruptly, if her great deed was to announce Fireshore's arrival a day's ride from Glenhallow.

Eliani? We are in private now, in the governor's chamber. My father asks why Fireshore sent only one rider.

He says Governor Othanin was unable to come or to send a delegation. He claims to have a letter of explanation for Jharan.

Is he a member of Othanin's house?

He is not even from Fireshore. He is a Steppegard.

How do you know? A Sunriding could look like a Steppegard.

Eliani winced. She had not wanted to talk about her acquaintance with Kelevon.

I have met him before.

A moment's silence followed. She would have to explain this tangle to Turisan, but not now. Not like this.

You know him. Do you think him trustworthy?

I do not know.

That alone was condemnation. To imply that an ælven did not uphold the creed was the highest of insults, and Eliani hesitated to impugn even Kelevon so. She could only answer honestly, though. She did not know whether to trust him. She hoped for guidance from Jharan.

Shall I ride on?

She could continue to Fireshore and be free of Kelevon's company, though only the spirits knew what he would say of her in Glenhallow. She liked neither choice.

No. Jharan asks you to accompany the courier to Glenhallow. Stay …

Eliani waited, wondering what Jharan was saying.
Perhaps he would give her a new message to take to Fireshore.

My father suggests that you request permission to read the letter and convey its contents to us.

Eliani frowned.
He will refuse. The letter is not sent to me.

The others in your party will confirm that you are a mindspeaker. It is worth attempting.

You will have the letter by morning in any case. He is

a night-bider and wishes to ride now.

Jharan asks that you try. The sooner Othanin's explanation is known, the sooner the Council can respond.

Very well, I will try.

She got to her feet, stiff from sitting on the cold rock after a hard day's riding. As she walked back toward the firelight glinting through the trees, she tried to compose a gracious request to read the letter that had been entrusted to her former lover. She could not even begin.

Vanorin heard her approach and turned to glance at her. Sitting by the fire, he and the others might have looked companionable to one who did not know better, but Eliani saw the tension in each of them as they looked up at her.

“Kelevon, I have just consulted with Lord Jharan.”

Kelevon glanced around. “He is here?”

“No.”

His brow creased as he looked up at her. It made her heart jump with fright, remembering what that expression had signaled in the past.

Vanorin broke the silence. “Lady Eliani is a mind-speaker.”

“A mindspeaker?” Kelevon laughed, then looked at Luruthin, who solemnly nodded.

“My partner is Lord Turisan, Jharan's son.”

A myriad of feelings seemed to cross Kelevon's face. He glanced away for a moment as if musing.

“A mindspeaker. Truly?”

“Yes. Lord Jharan has asked me to request that you give me the letter you carry for him. I will read it and convey its contents to him through Turisan.”

Kelevon's eyes narrowed. “I was charged to place it in Jharan's hands.”

“Do you question Lady Eliani's honesty?”

Luruthin's voice was quiet but full of challenge. Kelevon glanced at him, then looked at Eliani with a smile.

“No, but I am just—amazed! I had not heard of this.”

“It was revealed only two days ago.”

Kelevon gazed at her, still smiling, his eyelids drooping lazily. “Our own Eliani a mindspeaker. All the world will be pleased to learn of this.”

Eliani shifted her stance, growing impatient. “Will you give me the letter?”

Kelevon's smile widened. “Of course.”

He reached into his silken tunic and withdrew a parchment sealed with orange and gray ribbons. Standing up, he bowed gallantly and held it out to her.

Eliani accepted it and glanced at Lord Jharan's name written on the outside of the parchment. The hand was tall and spidery—Othanin's hand, she presumed, though she had never seen it before. She sat down, arranging her cloak comfortably about her, and broke the seal.

Turisan? I have the letter.

Excellent!

She willed herself to open a little more to Turisan, enough to convey the words to him as she read them. Even that raised panic in her, though she did her best
to ignore it and turned her attention to the letter. It covered only a single page, all in the same thin hand.

To Lord Jharan, Governor of Southfæld, greetings from the Governor of Fireshore

I have received your message bidding me to attend Council in Glenhallow. Alas, to my great regret I am unable at this time to comply. Matters here require all my attention at present, however, I have good news to share with you—there are no kobalen threatening our borders. We see few of them here, though winter may draw them north to our warmer climes. Should we have any news of this nature to share with you, rest assured I will send it at once.

Fireshore has no standing guard, so I have no support to offer you against the increased activity of kobalen. My ardent hope is that they will be no threat to you or to our good neighbors. If I should prove mistaken in this hope, I will of course send to you what ever help it is in my power to give. Our numbers are yet small, but let it not be said that Fireshore failed to contribute to the destiny of all ælven realms.

I send you this word with my good servant, to whom I hope you will extend the hospitality for which Glenhallow is so justly famous. Pray believe me to be,

Yours in service to Fireshore,

Othanin

Eliani frowned as she folded the parchment, feeling dissatisfied. She fingered the ribbons, noting that one was a trifle frayed.

That is all?

Yes.

Does the courier know what matters are so important as to keep Othanin away from Council?

I think not, but if you wish, I will ask again.

Do.

She looked at Kelevon. He was sitting with his arms clasped loosely over one knee, watching her in apparent fascination.

“What keeps Governor Othanin so busy of late?”

He shrugged. “I am not privy to matters of governance, so I really cannot say. I know there has been difficulty with the darkwood harvest this year.”

Eliani frowned. That seemed insufficient to warrant the governor's absenting himself from Council, but she shared Kelevon's comment with Turisan.

What shall I do?

Turisan was silent for a moment, consulting with his father and the Council. Eliani waited, resigned to spending the night in discomfort what ever Jharan decided. She began to long more than ever for the solitude of that mountain peak.

Bring the courier to Glenhallow.

Very well.

Eliani?

Yes?

Turisan hesitated. Eliani could sense his fear of angering her. It was as if all they had built together had been smashed, and they were back to their initial awkwardness. She hated it but did not know how to cure it.

You seem upset. Can I be of help?

She drew a breath and carefully let it out.
Not now. I will explain when I see you in Glenhallow.

Very well. I … Spirits guard you.

Thank you.

She felt him withdraw, became aware that she was
staring into the fire. The others were silently watching her.

Spirits help me. I cannot see my path.

She stirred and handed the letter back to Kelevon. “Lord Jharan wishes to meet you. We will ride with you to Glenhallow.”

“Excellent!” Kelevon returned the letter to his tunic and stood up, casting a sly glance at Luruthin. “We have so much to talk about.”

Eliani rose, as did the others. Vanorin and the guardians set about dousing the fires, breaking their newly made camp. Eliani fetched her packs and bow and joined Luruthin and Kelevon with the horses. Vanorin was there, tightening the girth on her saddle.

“Thank you, Captain. Thank you for all your service.”

Vanorin gave a nod, smiling slightly. “It is an honor to serve you, lady.”

Eliani gave a sudden bark of laughter. “But not a plea sure.”

She laughed again at his silence, and saw an answering glint of humor in his eye. She liked Vanorin, she decided. She turned to her horse, her body protesting with weariness as she hauled herself into the saddle once more. She cared little that she would be riding through the night. After this evening's events, she would have had no rest even on the softest bed in Hallowhall.

 Hallowhall 

“My deepest concern is that Othanin was unclear in his reasons for not attending this Council.”

Turisan had not seen his father look so stern since he had brought him the kobalen's ear. The Council, hastily summoned, looked equally grave as Jharan's gaze swept across them.

“Have any of you knowledge of matters in Fireshore that might have required him to remain there?”

The councillors exchanged glances and murmured, but no one came forward. Jharan's brow tightened.

“I have not met Othanin, though we have corresponded in the past. Do any of you here know him?”

Governor Pashani stood, a wine goblet from the feast hall in her hand. “I met him when I visited Ghlanhras some while ago. He is a dull sort.”

The councillors laughed, and Pashani waved her goblet. “Well, he declined my invitation to ride to the coast, even when I offered him the best mare in my string!”

Ehranan rose and bowed to Pashani, his powerful form oddly graceful in the double-woven gold robe he wore. “Your pardon, my lady, my lord Jharan. Gentles, I think we must ask ourselves whether it is possible that Clan Sunriding has gone the way of Clan Darkshore.”

A stunned silence filled the chamber, followed by an outburst of protest. Ehranan held up his hands.

“Hear me. I have given this matter long thought, and I do not like raising it. The truth is, however, that casting Darkshore out of our favor did not resolve the question of why they broke the creed.”

Pashani came to her feet again, slapping a hand on the table. “They broke the creed because of their foul and twisted cruelty!”

Ehranan turned to her, his chiseled face stern though his voice was calm. “They claimed they had no choice, and the Council never heard their explanation.”

“There could be no explanation! They drank the blood of kobalen for their own amusement!” Pashani's golden eyes flashed as she faced Ehranan. “Mark me, I have no love for kobalen—nasty, vicious creatures—but it cannot be denied that they are intelligent beyond any other breed save ourselves! We drive them out of our lands, we slay them if need be, but what Darkshore did to them was beyond cruel and shamed the very name of ælven!”

“Gentles, please!” Jharan held out his hands for peace. “Lady Pashani, you are right in upholding the decision of past Councils, and I know that you know better than any of us what the alben have done to the kobalen. I would hear Ehranan's theory, though.”

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