The Coming Storm (106 page)

That settled a few.

These were young Elves and Men, it wasn’t a post for old ones. Wisdom came quick to them or they died. As the saying went, Hunters and Woodsmen might be old and some few bold but there were none who were old and bold. Most young Elves spent some time either as Hunters or Woodsmen, depending on their skills, for the experience with blade and bow.

Elon had spent time as a Hunter in his young days. They all did. That Aerilann, the Enclave that was his home, was far from the lands inhabited by the other races made it necessary. Isolated thus, it saw more than its share of such invasions. Few in the Vale hadn’t had experience of the creatures that lived in the borderlands. For the creatures of the borderlands, though, some of which were magical, Aerilann was enticing.

In the end, though, there was nothing else to say. Most had been in the city too long as it was and had to return to their own lands and postings. In time the room was empty save for Elon, Jareth and Colath.

Jalila stepped in from the garden, her eyes desolate.

“I couldn’t bear to watch,” she said, softly.

Her heart ached for Elon and Colath.

“I can’t return to Eliade’s barracks yet,” Colath said. “It’s not in me to do so. My duty calls me one way, my honor another. There will be talk.”

“You don’t have to, Colath,” Elon said. “Eliade released you. She gave me leave to say so. For the sake of our true-friend bond.”

Their eyes met, knowing what was unsaid.

Jareth nodded. “You’re always welcome here.”

“I know it,” Colath said, with a small smile. “And thanks for it.”

The sun had set behind the mountains and the room had grown dark. Elves could see well enough in the dark and as a wizard he had little need of light but Jareth went around to light the lamps in any case. The warmth of the light might make things seem less bleak. It helped to do something.

In time he knew he would come to accept the events of this day but it wouldn’t come soon, he feared. Ailith had become so much a part of their small company. How many times had they been parted? Only to come together again.

Their plans.

She’d been considering joining the Hunters, where her skills with her swords and her bow would be of the most use, in one of the posts to the north where she could keep in contact with them. She would have done well.

He pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t think of that now, it pained him too much.

Elon walked out onto the veranda, needing the night sky and the breeze from the oceans. He missed Ailith already with an intensity he nearly couldn’t bear. Colath joined him, sharing the pain but wrapped up in his own thoughts and pain as well.

There was nothing he, Elon, could do here.

He needed to be back in the Vale, among his own folk, where things were clearer. There he had a purpose, as First among equals. There were things to occupy his mind, a hundred small things that must have arisen during his absence. Anything to distract him as he’d distracted himself for so many years.

He also needed time. Time to study the laws of men and of Dwarves, time to think, to find a way to lift the exile.

A knock at the door startled all of them. It was an odd hour and neither he nor Jareth expected a visitor. Those had already been and gone. He glanced at Colath, who shook his head. He wasn’t expecting anyone either.

Jareth paused in the act of lighting another lamp. Banishing the fire spell, he went to the door.

An Elf stood there. One he didn’t know. This one had dark brown hair caught back at the temples with Elven beads and pale gray eyes. He wasn’t as tall as many.

“Ala,” Jareth said, surprised, half in question.

From behind him, Elon spoke, “Let him in, Jareth.”

There was something in his voice that wasn’t quite surprise.

The Elf stepped inside and inclined his head. “Ala, Jareth the wizard. There are watchers outside, did you know?”

A glance went between the three of them.

“Yes. Why are you here, Dorovan?” Elon asked.

The swordsmaster of Talaena Enclave.

Elon suspected he knew why Dorovan had come but he wanted the words. It would explain much.

“I needed to speak,” Dorovan said. “They’ve Exiled her. Exiled Ailith.”

The horror in his voice was as much and more than any Elf might feel at such a fate.

It was more emotion than most would show and it spoke volumes.

“It was you,” Colath said, voicing their thought.

Briefly, Dorovan inclined his head. In acknowledgment. When he raised it, his eyes were averted, distant.

“I need to say it, that I didn’t know. In truth, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Selah was mine.”

H paused.

“I offer no excuse, merely explanation. I didn’t know the ways of Men. I hadn’t spent much time among them then and didn’t know their habits. I meant no dishonor to anyone, least of all Delae. Among our people, it wouldn’t have been. To me it seemed she and her husband shared only an alliance, they weren’t bonded and so she was free to choose another. For Delae, he who was her husband had broken their vows and dishonored her many times. He misspent that which was meant to maintain their lands. All of that fell on her.”

His gaze had turned inward, to look into the past, and saw memories.

“I didn’t mean it to happen. It was winter and I was returning home from duty with the Hunters at Lothliann. We’d chased a band of goblins and they turned on us. Not all of us escaped with our lives. It was winter and a storm was coming on. I was hard pressed to find good shelter on my return. Nor was I the only one. I was passing through those lands and came upon some travelers who’d also gotten caught in the storm. They’d sent for help from the landowner, Delae, so she and her people were duty-bound to come. I lent assistance, as we would do. She offered shelter to all. Including me. She was strong in spirit, yet quiet about it. Resolute, determined to make the best of her circumstances. For all that she was alone and lonely, she made light of it. What happened between us was moment of weakness for us both, a solace that became more.”

For a moment Dorovan looked away. “She was a friend-of-the-heart to me as I was to her, a true bond.”

It was clear his grief ran deep.

Those were the most words Jareth had ever heard from an Elf he didn’t know. It was astonishing he would do so in front of a man and a wizard. It said much for his state of mind.

“Her husband returned home shortly after the storm. It was some time before I went back, out of fondness for her. I never wondered if Selah was mine. She looked so much like her mother and there was little sign she might be. A trace, perhaps, in the shape of her ears, the grace of her. She had no magic but not all Halflings do.”

“You taught Ailith the use of swords and bow,” Elon stated. “You taught her our language.”

Dorovan nodded, with some little pride amid the sorrow. “She speaks it well, does she not? I gave no thought to it. She was the beloved child of my friend-of-the-heart’s child. I was fond of her. I didn’t know she had my blood. I taught her the swords because she had such a talent for it. It was so glorious to teach her. For all her size she was a natural warrior. I thought it would stand her in good stead the day she took her father’s crown. Her friendship was a joy to me. I gave no thought to Ailith’s father’s blood or mine and she did no magic when I saw her. Until that day on battlefield I didn’t know she was Otherling.”

“Does it matter?” Elon asked. A sharp spurt of resentment, anger, shot through him.

Slowly, Dorovan shook his head. “She’s my blood, no matter what else is there. Even without the blood tie I was fond of her. She was an intelligent child, a diligent student, a born swordsman and a joy to my heart.”

“She wouldn’t speak of you.”

“I asked her not to. There had been some whispers about Selah after her birth. By then I’d come to know the ways of men and was dismayed to realize I might have brought dishonor to Delae in my ignorance. She, who didn’t know the ways of Elves, didn’t think to speak of it. Of her husband, who had so little honor, I had little thought. Selah seemed so obviously not Elven, though, that the whispers faded.”

Elon was silent for a moment.

There was a deep sorrow in the other Elf, deeper than a mere alliance or simple fondness. He had loved Delae in his way, though he didn’t speak of it, else he wouldn’t have returned so often. Talaena was an old Enclave, strong in tradition and history. Lilianne’s Enclave. No, such an alliance wouldn’t have been welcome there. To keep and carry that secret for so long.

To watch his lover age as the folk of men did and know how brief her life would be.

It was clear Dorovan had loved Selah as well. She had been his child, despite his doubts. At the moment of Selah’s death, he would have known it, as those among their people did. Elon couldn’t imagine the pain of it, losing a child. They were so rare. Add now this exile. The most grievous punishment any Elf could conceive and settled upon his child’s child. He couldn’t imagine how the other Elf stood beneath the weight of his sorrow.

“Is there nothing that can be done?” Dorovan asked. His voice held little hope. “If I had thought that by some act of mine I could save her, I would have done it. I’m swordmaster and artificer, crafter of swords and armor and of Talaena. It wouldn’t have aided her cause. There must be something, some way we can help.”

As one, the three of them looked at each other, and then at Elon, who straightened slowly. A light of hope, small perhaps but something. Action of some kind, no matter how little it might be.

“Not to end her exile,” Elon said, tightly, “but perhaps to ease it.”

He was grasping at straws and knew it but it was bitter to know he could do nothing. Even so small a chance as this was something. He had to try. Had to do something for her to ease her exile until he could free her from it.

It ached, chafed at him already.

“There is a risk,” Colath offered, knowing Elon’s mind, “if they discover him. It would take no leap of reason to ask why an Elf would defy law and custom.”

“They have no reason to suspect him, though,” Jareth added, “save perhaps for his visit here. As a past Hunter, though, he would be like enough to those others who visited us earlier. They have no reason to watch him. There will be many departing through the night, leaving the city to return to their homes and Enclaves. One more Elf among so many wouldn’t be remarked.”

Elon shook his head. “True enough but if he’s discovered the consequences could render all for naught and Ailith’s sacrifice an empty one. If we let Dorovan do this, we defy the Council, the one I sit on. Whether we admit it or not, we, we defy the Council whose law I’ve sworn to uphold. Make no mistake, that’s no light thing.”

“It would be mine to accept,” Dorovan said.

“So,” Elon said, sharply, “I should let another take the punishment for my dishonor? I won’t. That’s of little matter, however. There’s so little of honor in this I can’t be much disturbed. They’ve conspired to violate the very spirit of the law they swore to uphold. How is it I can do aught to right some of that wrong? No, but it’s not empty risk either. If you were to be discovered and either Elves or Dwarves made that leap of reason, all that Ailith has done would be for nothing. The Dwarves have been thwarted of their blood but not their thirst for it. Were they to realize who you are, they would take their revenge on you. No matter what our people feel about what you’ve done, they would be forced to seek justice. Neither Dwarf nor Man can be allowed to take the blood of an Elf without consequence. You know that, Dorovan.”

“Aye. Then what? So, there is nothing we can do?”

The small hope Dorovan nourished had faded, you could see it.

“There is something,” Elon said, “but we won’t go blindly into it, either. If we’re to do this, let’s do it in the full knowledge of what may be the results of our actions.”

A chance, a small chance, to do something for Ailith. Something other than to follow her. The need, the burning desire, to do that nearly overwhelmed him. If he did, all chance of finding some way to bring her back, to win her free of it, was gone. There was Colath, too, there was that bond which he wouldn’t abandon either, nor would he ask Colath to join him. There was Aerilann, too, and his responsibilities there, his duties to the Council and the Alliance for which Ailith had sacrificed herself. Though Colath was no burden, the rest…