The Coming Storm (94 page)

Ailith went to bed that night with a light heart, anticipating the morning. To do the forms with Elon, to hear the music of the swords with him. A chance perhaps. She didn’t want to hope too much.

A knock at the door of his apartments woke Jareth in his rooms on the bottom floor.

Blearily, he looked out the window.

It’s not even daybreak, he thought irritably, as he stumbled to the door.

The messenger was in the High King’s uniform. “Are you the wizard Jareth?”

He nodded sleepily and tried to get his eyes open. He sighed.

“Yes, what can I do for Daran High King?”

“With all due apologies from His Highness,” the messenger said. “He asks if you and Lord Elon can ride for the Kingdom of Forest Glen with all due speed. They seem to be having a problem with something killing their cattle. They don’t know what it is and they’d like for you two to see to it. The High King said to tell Lord Elon that if he can’t sleep, neither should he.”

That sounded like Daran.

“All right,” Jareth said, resigned.

He turned but Elon was already behind him.

It was the first time Jareth had ever seen that much frustration in his eyes.

“I heard. Let me go tell Ailith we’ll be leaving.”

Elon had truly been looking forward to doing the forms with her this morning. It was something he’d anticipated his heart lighter when he had sought his bed the night before. It only occurred to him then that he should have done them with her last night. There’d been no real reason to wait, save they’d made it a habit to do them in the mornings.

There was nothing for it, though, but to go.

A knock on her door.

The first light of dawn was just touching the sky. It gave her skin a silvery glow as she opened the door clad in only her shift, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

For a moment, he was caught by that, by the sight of her dressed that way.

“Ailith, the King calls me out,” he said. “He wants us north. Something about something killing cattle. Likely a boggart or a boggin. Let Jalila and Colath know? We’ll be back in a few days.”

“I heard the knocking,” she said.

She tried to hide the disappointment but it showed in her eyes and he saw it.

Softly, he said, “I know. I feel the same. A few days only.”

Ailith gave him a wry smile, seeing a like regret in his dark eyes. “Just be careful. I’ll be watching.”

He looked at her, at the steady look in those blue eyes and took a breath. “As always.”

Nodding, her smile became a grin. “As always.”

Without thinking about it too much, he pulled her close to hold her a moment, no more.

“A few days, no more,” he said, gazing at her intently. It was a promise.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said and her eyes sparkled, “with much anticipation.”

Looking at the way her eyes glowed, he allowed himself another small smile and said, “As will I.”

It was only a matter of a few moments for he and Jareth to pack up and go.

Looking up, Elon felt his breath catch.

Ailith stood on the end of the veranda to watch them, still clad in only her shift.

The sun shone through the thin material as if it were nearly transparent, limning her body against the thin fabric. Her hair was unbound and spilled loosely over her shoulders, catching glints of amber in the chestnut curls.

Jareth kept his thoughts to himself but it was a fetching picture.

From the look on his face, Elon clearly thought so, too.

With a wave, they were off.

They identified themselves to the Guard at the gate.

“Headin’ out early, milords,” the gate guard said.

Sourly, Jareth said, “The High King wants us in Forest Glen, we go to Forest Glen.”

He wasn’t a morning person.

“Well,” the gate guard said, “so it goes with them what serves the High King.”

“It does, indeed.”

With the gate behind them, Elon said, “No fast pace. If it was going to kill people it would have done so. Those are prize cattle from all I understand but let’s save speed for the return journey.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Jareth said. “We’ve done enough hard riding for the past few months, Elon. Going back, to sleep again in a good bed? That’s worth the effort.”

They set a steady pace, putting a little distance behind them.

“Elon,” Jareth said, after a time, “I’ve been hearing some odd whispers of late.”

“About what?” Elon asked.

This was the hard part. “About Ailith, I think. Itan asked me to check around, she heard something about Avila talking to people. That’s not like Avila. Itan didn’t know about what.”

Ailith.

Elon went a little cold. “What about her?”

“I don’t know,” Jareth said. “That’s what I’m having trouble with. No one will talk to me.”

For a moment, Elon pushed at his Foresight, to see what would come. He’d never really tried to get a sense of Ailith’s future. He couldn’t put a name to his reluctance but now he didn’t try.

Nothing.

He couldn’t See it. In an odd way it wasn’t as if she didn’t have one that he could sense, he simply couldn’t See what future she had. Still, it had been tugging at him lately.

He sighed. “Nothing certain.”

Jareth shook his head in frustration.

Disobey the High King’s orders.

As much as he wished to, Elon couldn’t.

It hadn’t been part of their agreement to go on these kinds of errands, though.

He went because it seemed serious enough to warrant his and Jareth’s attention but there was a certain amount of apprehension now. It was only a few days. Then he would be back to take Ailith north where everyone would forget about her except he, Colath, Jalila and Jareth.

There was a surprise coming for Ailith as well. It would arrive soon. A gift for their journey north. He hadn’t wanted her to see it until he was there to give it to her. There was no help for it, though. He didn’t want to tire the horses now, not if he wanted to ride at speed to get their return journey over. There was no telling what they would find but he hoped to get it done quickly and be as quickly back.

The garden seemed oddly empty without Elon and Jareth and with Colath gone as well. Ailith stroked the whetstone along her short sword but couldn’t quite concentrate on the task. She felt oddly bare, an empty space at either side.

“Where has everyone gone?” Jalila asked, coming to join her.

“It’s only we two,” Ailith said, with a smile and sigh. “Elon and Jareth got called out this morning on the High King’s business.”

“Well,” Jalila said, “we’ve always done well enough together. Do you have those arrows done?”

With a grin, Ailith said, “Yes, teacher.”

Jalila gave a small smile back as Ailith went to fetch them.

She eyed down the shaft to check the fletching.

“Well,” she said, “they will hit something.”

Her dark eyes looked to Ailith, who didn’t mistake the hint of humor there.

“Which is the point,” Ailith said. “That’s almost high praise from you.”

“You’ve done well. There are mistakes but they are small.” Jalila proceeded to point them out. “There’s a little too much glue here, and these feathers should be straighter. All in all, though, it’s well done.”

There was a knock at the door.

A messenger waited outside impatiently.

“I was to ask for Ailith,” he said. “Itan asks for her.”

“Do you mind, Jalila?” Ailith asked.

Jalila shook her head.

It had been a time since she could call any time all her own. She missed Colath already, would miss Elon and Jareth and now Ailith but it would be good to have a few hours to herself.

“Some time alone won’t be poorly spent.”

“All right. I shouldn’t be long.”

Ailith missed Smoke. She’d become accustomed to sitting on his broad back. Olend, though, had been kind enough to lend her one of his fine Marakisian horses. While not as swift or sure as an Elven-bred and no Smoke, it was a smooth riding animal. It still felt odd riding it, too narrow where she was used to Smoke’s bulk.

She was just shy of the Marakisian section, in the section of town where many of the common soldiers stayed until they were re-posted, when armed men appeared from the alleys around her. They encircled her. All wore the livery of the High King’s Guard.

An icy chill swept through her. For a moment she was frozen, uncomprehending, or trying not to, trying to deny what her instincts told her, what her fear was, now made real. Fear turned her bones to water.

They’d waited until she was away from the house, where she couldn’t call Jalila for help, send her after Elon. That boded even less well. She felt as if a trap had closed around her.

No, not now
.

“Ailith, late of Riverford, you are hereby under arrest by the order of the High King and with his warrant.”

The cold took her.

Now. It was now
. Someone knew, someone had guessed. There was her father’s known blood, someone had put two and two together.

She closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath.

Fear was a hot and cold thing that ran through her but what could she do against six? And the King’s Guard at that. The urge to fight and run was there. If she fought, though, it would be as if she fought the High King himself. That was treason. The punishment would be the same.

Death
.

Elon, I am sorry, I am so sorry
.

An aching anguish filled her but she leashed it back.

Don’t let it through the bond, don’t let him know this, him or Colath
,  she thought, and willed herself to calm, fighting the despair.

They had been going to do the forms together, she and Elon.

Now she was grateful rather than disappointed. If they had…

She closed her eyes.

She’d hoped so much.

Now it was all ashes.

Jored watched from the shadows of the alehouse. It was where he spent most of his time these days, drinking away the memory of that last battle and watching for her. For the sweet Lady. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her. He’d watched her come this way before but not usually alone like this. Usually with those Elves and a wizard.

Though she’d denied the title he gave her, the lift of her chin and the straightness of her back belied it. Whatever she was to others, she was and always would be the Lady to Jored. Ever since that day on the battlefield. Some whispered what it was her what done it, that made that dragon. Maybe it were and maybe it weren’t. One thing Jored knew for sure, he was alive because of it. She’d tried to warn him about those things that had come up out of the ground. Look away, she had said. But he hadn’t.

He’d been caught looking up into those serpent’s eyes and felt that magic take him. Suddenly, he couldn’t move, he could do nothing but stare up, looking into those gaping jaws and the teeth and wait to feel them close around him.

But they hadn’t.

Instead there had been the dragon.

It had been beautiful.

Now there were all this whispering. This Otherling business. He’d heard all those stories, the ones you told little ones to get them to mind or to frighten them on a winter’s night. That’s all they were, stories, nonsense, so far as he were concerned.

Everyone heard the clatter and commotion outside and they all went to watch.

This, though, this weren’t no story. The High King himself had ordered her arrest.

As if she hadn’t saved them all that day.

Truth be told, when the whispering had begun, Jored had started to follow her, just to be sure. Always from a distance on those rare times when she rode alone. Followed her all the way back home again, to be sure she were safe. She’d been watching out for him that day, seemed only fair to watch out for her now. A sweet Lady she was.

Now he fetched his horse and he was off, taking it careful, he didn’t want them to notice him. That wouldn’t do at all. Wouldn’t help her none if they did.

First to that house, to find that Elven Lord, the one what give her a hand up on the battlefield that day. Or that wizard, or that other Elf, the tall and pretty one.

One of them. Someone to help her.

He knocked at the door and tugged on his forelock at the stern Lady Elf who answered the door.

“I needs to speak to the Lord Elf what lives here, or that wizard, it’s terrible important.”

Startled, Jalila looked at him.

A common man, a rough soldier by the look of him.

“They left this morning, early. Why, what’s happened?”

Although she had little magic, Jalila suddenly had a terrible feeling, as a sudden chill went through her.

Jored’s heart sank. Left this morning. He had to do something, and fast. If they had left this morning, kept a slow pace, he might catch them up.

He was back up on his horse in seconds.

“They’ve arrested the Lady,” he shouted back at Elf as he rode away.

Arrested what Lady? Jalila wondered, taken aback. Arrested?

Lady?

Ailith
.

Jalila put it together as her heart went still. She had to find Colath. She had to find him now.

She ran for her horse.

Jored cantered down to the North gate, it was as fast as he dared ride. Looking at the Guards, he knew them for folk like himself.

“Hai,” he said, giving proper greeting. “Did you see an Elf and a man, might as be a wizard, go through early this morning? I’ve gotta catch ‘em up and right soon. Gotta message to deliver.”

He did that, right enough.

Elf and wizard, Elf and man didn’t travel much together usual. Except for these two. They’d be noticed.

“Sure man, headed for the Glen, Forest Glen, that road there. You’ve a long hard ride ahead of you.”

They had no notion, no notion at all. He had to ride against Elven-bred.

“Thanks to you. I know it, don’t I but know it,” he said, with feeling.

“Heya, you’ll miss the trial tomorrow. They’re gonna do for that Otherling.”

Trial? This was the first he’d heard of that.

Word was traveling fast.

Trial?

Not if he could help it.

Well, this horse of his was fresh from sitting around for days waiting for orders. It was a good thing, because he was gonna ride him hard. Real hard, to catch up with two on Elven-bred. It was hard to do to a good horse but he would do it, he would. For the Lady.

He owed his life to her.

Among Eliade’s Hunters, that’s where Colath was. Jalila knocked on the side door to the quarters in the Council building, that great stone edifice. It seemed cold and bleak, the only warmth the golden lamplight that spilled through the door.

The guard on the door sent for Colath.

One look at Jalila’s eyes, at the very stillness of her face and Colath knew.

There had been something here since he’d come, eyes that watched him covertly in a way not common among their folk. A watchfulness. As if they knew something he didn’t.

His heart went still.

“What happened? Where’s Elon?”

“They took her, arrested her. Ailith told me they were called away this morning. Elon and Jareth both. The High King.”

Colath’s heart sank.

The High King.

Daran, with his scheming and his plots.

“I’ll get my horse,” he said, “stay here. We’ll ride to the gate…”

A voice said, “You will not, Colath of Aerilann. You’re in my train now. This that we do is by will of the Council.”

Eliade. The Second of the Three but First among equals at Alatheriann.

He turned.

“Do nothing,” she said.

“She’s true-friend of mine, like Elon, you ask me to betray that?” Colath was incredulous.

Eliade looked stricken. “True-friend.”

He and Elon.

She hadn’t known, although she should have seen it as they were so much together as true-friends were.

It couldn’t matter now, as she’d already violated that bond and must pay the price.

But, a true-friend bond with the Otherling? It was unthinkable. It was a thing of Elves, it violated the sanctity of the bond.

And Elon, what of him? What bond tied him to her, to the Otherling?

That didn’t bear thinking.

She stiffened her resolve. This whole affair disturbed her.

“You may choose, Colath of Aerilann, how many true-friends will be left at the end of this day? You may lose one or both, if you go this course. You may not. I forbid it. As First among equals here and as Second of the Three.”

She couldn’t forbid him, not as his First, which was Elon…and why he, Colath, had been pulled into her train. Now he understood. Until she released him, she was his First, and not Elon. Thus the reason for the unusual request. This wasn’t their way, not the way of their people but it would put him at odds with them to openly defy her.

They had planned this from the beginning, cut him away as one does a cull from the herd, leaving both Elon and Ailith’s backs bare and paring one more friend away from them both.

Then they’d drawn off Elon and Jareth, leaving Ailith alone and undefended.

Ailith! True-friend
. It ached in him.

“As for you,” Eliade said, turning to Jalila, “I don’t know your name but leave be. There’s nothing you can do here. It won’t go well for you if you interfere. There will be some who know an Elf stood for a man where they should not.”

Pausing at the door, she added, “It will be over by morning, you cannot reach Elon in time, we made sure of it. There will be a trial. It may come as some  little comfort but the judgment will likely not be death. We aren’t such barbarians as men are known to be. That much I could do.”

It had been done at her insistence although Daran hadn’t been averse.

For the first time in his life, Colath felt truly helpless. Trapped. As much as he wanted to help Ailith, there was nothing he could do that wouldn’t violate the Agreement.

Seeing the anguish in Colath, caught by his honor, his bonds to their people and his true-friends, Jalila slipped her hand in his to share the pain.

His and hers.

There wasn’t the true-friend bond between her and Ailith but Ailith was a friend. A steadfast friend. That night with the trackers, looking in Ailith’s eyes and knowing Ailith wouldn’t turn away while the iron was put on her. Or when Ailith had taken them off, shattered them, pulled the arrow and used her Healing to save Jalila’s life.

It was knowing that when Ailith looked at those stars in her mind she looked not for just two but for all of them. Always. When Ailith turned her head to seek, it was first to Elon, next to Colath but also Jareth and herself. Always. It had shown in the warmth of her greeting that day on the parapets of Marakis.

A friend. It wasn’t the true-friend bond, as between Colath and Ailith, or him and Elon but…something else.

Jalila knew it. It was a bond and a true one. A friend-of-the-heart. Not so deep as a true-friend, it was a more open thing but special all the same.

She grieved for Ailith and shared Colath’s pain.

And, in that sharing, she felt something else. A feather’s touch of something else. Something…more. Something that moved between her and Colath. The beginning of something. Something that was warm and deep and true between them.

A soul-bond.

Not now. Sometime, but not in grief and sorrow and helpless fear for those they cared for. It was meant to be a joyous thing.

In the midst of his fear for Ailith, Colath felt it, too. That small something. A promise of something, a richness and a depth.

Someday they would look at that, he and Jalila. When all of this was over. If it was ever over. He felt it and knew it for what it would grow to be.

He looked at Jalila, knowing what would one day lay between them and what lay between two others he loved as deeply and as well.

There was no one else here in this empty place of stone and iron to hear and know.

“They’re soul-bonded, Jalila,” he said, quietly. “Elon and Ailith. He doesn’t know.”

The shock of it quivered through her. “He doesn’t know?”

Colath took a slow breath. “Does and doesn’t. I know it for true through our bond. He’s waited for it so long he doubts it as a true bond. He learned not to want it, not to need it. Now, it’s offered to him in her and with it all that she is.”

Jalila closed her eyes.

“Otherling.”

“Yes. He fears for her and fears losing her. He’s caught in it.”

“And Ailith?” Jalila asked.

“She knows and gives him what he needs, time, and her love to trust it’s true.”

“How?” It was incredulous, heartbreaking.

To know herself soul-bonded for true and to wait? To deny it to herself?

“She endures, for fear of this. For fear of what we face even now.”

“And now?”

He shook his head, felt a quiver in the bond.

Ailith.

“
I don’t know.”