Emriana tried to calm her breathing. All of her previous thoughts of bravado faded away at the reality of facing the two men who had tried to kill her the night before. Her daggers were packed inside the box, which was inside her satchel. There was no way she could dig them out in time.
Don't panic! the girl insisted to herself. They won't jump you in the middle of the street like this. They're waiting until no one is around. Keep moving, she told herself. Find a crowd.
The girl turned to cross the street, thinking to head directly away from either of her pursuers, even though that would take her farther from the inn. On the opposite side, she spotted the woman with the short blonde hair, the one who had impersonated Xaphira.
Groaning, Emriana cut across at an angle, watching as the woman began to match her pace, strolling on the far side. Lak did likewise, crossing the street with her, gradually closing the distance. She didn't bother to turn around to see if bear-man was doing the same-she knew they were keeping her surrounded, biding their time.
Where in the nine hells is the watch when you need it? Emriana fumed, beginning to angle back the other way. She noticed that there were fewer people on the street right then, a fact that seemed to embolden the three pursuing her, for they drew ever closer, still surrounding her position.
Drawing a deep breath, Emriana changed course again, then darted back the other way, breaking into a sprint, dashing past the surprised Lak. He lunged for her, a bold move considering they were not completely alone on the street, but the girl managed to evade his grasp and scoot past him, charging ahead to the next intersection. Emriana whipped around the corner and kept going, all thoughts of the inn and a bath forgotten.
I have to find someplace safe, where they can't get to me, she thought. Grandmother, what do I do?
Run, child. To the Darowdryns. They'll protect you. Hurry!
Emriana mentally nodded as she sprinted in that direction, heading toward the massive estate of the old friends of the Matrell family. Her breath came in ragged gasps, as much a result of her terror as of tiring. At the next intersection, there were more folks out walking, and she slowed to avoid colliding with anyone. The thought flashed through her head that, given her bedraggled state, someone might think she was a thief fleeing the law.
Emriana risked a quick glance back to see if she was still being pursued. She spotted Lak, his short legs churning, closing the distance. Behind him, bear-man lumbered along, not as swift as his partner. The woman was not in sight, but Emriana had a pretty good idea that she was using the rooftops to track her quarry.
It's what I would do, the girl thought, turning and fleeing once more, heedless of the distasteful stares directed her way by passersby.
As she neared the Darowdryn estate, Emriana realized the one flaw in her plan. That section of the city was the providence of the very wealthy, and their homes were huge, sprawling affairs that covered several blocks. Few other people had cause to go there, which meant that the lanes meandering between the high walls delineating the various properties would most likely be empty. Unless Emriana could outdistance her would-be captors, they would have no witnesses to hinder their efforts.
It was a chance she would have to take, for to turn back would mean heading straight into their arms.
And still no watch, she thought, wishing a squad would see her running and try to accost her for her suspicious appearance. What better way to get rid of those three?
She was only a short distance from the front gate of the Darowdryn estate when the woman in the purple pants and magenta vest appeared in front of Emriana. The girl knew the woman had used magic to cut her off, and she didn't have to turn around to know that Lak and bear-man weren't far behind. They had her cornered.
"Not much room to move," the woman said, strolling toward Emriana. "You're a slippery little minx, I'll give you that," she added, pulling something from a pouch at her belt. "But your luck's run out, I think."
"Don't bet on it," Emriana said, eyeing her pursuer. "You haven't caught me, yet." She had no idea why such bold words were coming out of her mouth; she was terrified.
"A trivial matter," the woman said, smiling as she drew closer. The smile was not warm. "Think fast," she added, gesturing with both hands.
Emriana did not wait to see what arcane attack erupted from her foe. She turned and sprinted toward the wall of the estate, leaping as high as she could at the last moment. She could not reach the top of the wall, which was more than a full story high, but she had spotted a protruding stone in the work that she just might be able to grab hold of. It was her only chance.
As the girl sailed through the air, a trio of glowing darts shot forth from the fair-haired caster, whistling as they passed through the point where Emriana had been a moment before. She grimaced as she hit the wall and slipped the tips of her fingers over the protruding stone, knowing that the three missiles would double back on her.
She managed to claim a sufficient hold on the wall then hung there helplessly as the three magical darts slammed into her back. The pain from those horrid, burning missiles made her gasp, and she nearly lost her hold as she jerked, tears brimming.
"Bitch," she sobbed.
There was a sudden, soothing coolness flowing through Emriana then, and the pain receded sufficiently that she could concentrate once more on scaling the wall.
Hurry, child, Hetta's voice commanded, though it sounded weak and weary. I can't do that for you again.
Thank you, Emriana thought. She began to clamber higher, reaching the top a moment before Lak arrived down below then she pulled herself into a sitting position and glanced back.
"Get back down here!" the diminutive man growled, obviously frustrated. He eyed the wall, looking as though he was going to try to follow, but Emriana's attention was still focused on the female. She began to cast again.
Emriana rolled backward, slipping down the inside of the wall, evading whatever spell had been intended for her.
The girl found herself in a thicket, mostly underbrush and vines, but she could see open field just a little toward the interior of the estate. Behind her, muffled by the wall, she could make out the sounds of people arguing, and she did not want to wait around to see if the trio of pursuers maintained the chase. She pushed through the foliage and into the field beyond, which stretched for quite a distance toward the main house, easily seen atop a central hill.
Perhaps a hundred paces away, a contingent of mounted soldiers were headed straight toward her. They had weapons out.
There was a crash behind Emriana, and she turned back in time to see Lak dropping to the ground at the base of the wall. He rolled to his feet as the woman settled easily to the ground beside him. Both of them began to advance on her.
Run to the soldiers! Hetta insisted. They will know your name and protect you. Go now!
Without hesitating, Emriana darted into the open, running with the last reserves of her energy right toward the soldiers, all but one of whom wore red, black, and gold livery. The one exception was an immense man sitting atop a huge destrier, both he and his horse sheathed in polished mail from head to toe. He brought up the rear, his mount laboring to keep up with the smaller, faster horses of the House guards. Behind Emriana, she could hear a hiss of vexation, but she didn't bother turning around to see if anyone followed. Her eyes were focused on those weapons before her, bearing down on her position.
"I yield!" she cried out, keeping her hands in the air as she ran. When she was only a few strides away, she stumbled and knelt in the grass, holding her hands high and to either side. "I yield," she repeated, thoroughly spent.
The soldiers encircled her on their horses, leveling spears at her head or aiming crossbows from the saddle. Emriana flinched, but otherwise all she could do was pant in exhaustion.
"You are trespassing, girl," one of the guards said, eyeing her. "We normally flog for that offense."
"Please," Emriana said, looking fearfully at the guard. "I must speak with Ariskrit Darow
dryn. She will know me."
The soldier snorted in derision. "I seriously doubt that," he said. "Lady Darowdryn values her privacy very much, so you can just turn around and hop back over the wall."
"Please!" Emriana repeated. "I promise that I am not lying to you! My name is Emriana Matrell, granddaughter of Hetta Matrell, and I must see the lady!"
The soldier was shaking his head, obviously unwavering in his resolve to keep riffraff away from the lords and ladies of the manor, when the huge mounted knight arrived. He threw a leg over the saddle and slid to the ground, huffing and puffing. The guard leader turned and saluted. "She claims to know Lady Darowdryn, m'lord, but she is obviously just a common street rat, looking for a handout. I was about to give her a chance to bolt, but she is pushing her luck."
The huge man strode past the soldier, staring straight at Emriana, slipping his gloves off his hands before removing his helmet. Great white mustaches settled down past his chin as he gazed intently at the girl kneeling before him. It was Tharlgarl "Steel-fists" Darowdryn.
"Em?" the man said. "Emriana Matrell?" He turned and waved away the soldiers. "She speaks the truth. Let her up."
Immediately, the contingent of guards withdrew their weapons and allowed Emriana to rise. She did so on shaky legs, feeling a rush of emotions coursing through her as she approached the man.
"I–I was afraid you wouldn't remember me," the girl said, greatly relieved. "I hoped, but I wasn't sure."
"Goodness, but you're a mess," Tharlgarl said, holding out a hand to help steady her.
The dam of emotions broke then, and tears flooded Emriana's eyes. She tumbled into the huge man's arms, hugging him tightly.
He wrapped his steel-clad arms around her gently and let her cry. "Easy," he said, over and over again. It felt so good to the girl that she stayed there for a long time. When she had regained her composure, Emriana pulled back and drew a filthy sleeve across her face. She sniffed once and looked at Steelfists.
"I've had the worst day," she began.
CHAPTER 15
Vambran followed the woman with the piercing emerald eyes without saying anything. They walked together along a path that paralleled a watercourse through the heart of the Nunwood. The lieutenant still wasn't certain why she had returned later that day and fetched him from the cage, but when she had asked him to stroll with her, he had accepted quickly, though it meant leaving the others behind for a while. He wanted every chance to convince her to avert a war.
She led the way in silence away from the great rock, taking the mercenary down to the forest floor, where her footfalls were nearly silent. She seemed to revel in the greenness of it all, stopping occasionally and drawing deep breaths with her eyes closed in pure contentment. Vambran tried to do the same, though it was hard to appreciate the beauty of the moment when there was so much going on, and so little time to resolve the cascade of events that seemed to be falling all around him.
The thought of running never seriously crossed the man's mind, for he would not leave his companions behind, and he knew that she knew it. He did consider the possibility that he had been led out away from the others so that he would not be a witness to some dire fate for them, but he did not see the druids as being so devious. If they had wanted to kill the other five Crescents, they would have done so.
"You are wrong, you know," the woman said, turning to the lieutenant at last, a hint of a grin on her face. Vambran shook his head, not understanding her, but she added, "I have been to Shining Arrabar."
That had been the last thing the lieutenant had expected her to say. He waited for her to explain.
"I went there once, perhaps twenty summers ago. Your Lord Wianar and I were not seeing eye to eye over the encroachment of his population into my woods. I explained to him that, regardless of whether or not the elves had departed toward Evermeet, the humans would not be expanding into the Chondalwood."
Vambran gasped. "You!" he said, dumbfounded. He remembered the incident she spoke of clearly. He had been six years old, and there was a celebration taking place at the Generon. He could not have cared less at the time, but the festivities were to honor a "new era in expansionism." Right in the middle of Lord Wianar's speech, a woman dressed in verdant green clothing had hopped onto the stage and warned him against encroaching into the forest. Vambran still remembered the final warning: If death is all you can understand after all these years, feel free to pursue the matter. He had only learned later that the woman was Shinthala Deepcrest, a hierophant druid infamous throughout the Reach.
The realization that he had tongue-lashed one of the most powerful members of the druidic order back at the great rock gave Vambran serious pause. "You," he repeated, barely able to breathe the word.
"Yes," Shinthala said, obviously pleased with the reaction she had garnered from him.
Vambran, flustered, mumbled and stumbled over his words for a moment before managing to get out, "I was simply trying to make you see that you do not know me, my heart, and to make judgments about me based solely on your preconceptions is a dangerous fallacy. I meant no disrespect, Elder Deepcrest."
Shinthala waved his explanation away. "Of course you did," she said. "But I deserved it. Do not fret, Son of Arrabar. I find your passion, your dedication to your ideals, refreshing. And you remind me that I should not label all others by their outward appearances. I offer apology for losing my temper before." She turned then and walked on for a while, allowing Vambran a moment to gather his wits.
When he caught up to her again, Shinthala said in a troubled voice, "Tell me why the killing has begun to grow worse. Edilus thinks that someone is trying to draw the Emerald Enclave into your wars through viciousness and butchery. I say it is simply the nature of soldiers to fight until one side or the other is dead."
"I say that Edilus may be right," Vambran said, to which the woman paused and turned back to him, one eyebrow raised.
"How would you know this, Son of Arrabar?"
Vambran smiled. "Though my soldiers and I are not here of our own volition, we are here nonetheless. I believe that others who have worked against us-against me-back in Arrabar manipulated events so that my unit might be caught up in the midst of the chaos spreading through these woods. I believe they are also in some way responsible for the more vicious turn of affairs here. They scheme and plot for coin, and destroy anyone and anything that stands in their way."
Shinthala grunted and looked to some distant, unseen point. "But the scheming and plotting has gone on since the beginning of time," she said, sighing. "What would make this any different?"
Vambran shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "Though I was trying to find out not so long ago, back in Arrabar. Perhaps I can renew my quest here in the Nunwood," he suggested.
The woman laughed. "Again you suggest a pact!"
Vambran shrugged again. "I don't think we work at such cross purposes that we couldn't join together to put a stop to these events. My alternatives do not seem to be all that promising," he added wryly.
Shinthala laughed again. "That is true, Son of Arrabar." She turned to him and drew the slightest bit closer. "Then again, you might find that the alternatives are not so bad," she said, staring at him with those emerald eyes. She brushed his arm with her fingers. "There are many kinds of pacts to be made," she said, running those fingers up to his cheek.
Vambran blinked in surprise, caught totally off guard at her advances, but before he could respond, she turned and continued her casual journey, running her hands lovingly along the bark of tree trunks she passed along the way.
Several steps ahead, Shinthala glanced back at the soldier. "Don't look so surprised," she said. "Every woman has her needs, and you are easy on the eyes; that is certain."
Vambran found his voice and replied indignantly, "I may have a great need to be released, but I'm not willing to trade my favors for it. I'm not a trollop on the streets of Arrabar, you know."
Shinthala turned back on the lieutenant and snorted. "Is t
hat what you heard? That I was offering a deal? Bed me, and I'll give you your freedom? You must not think as highly of me as you showed before, then. Do I seem that desperate to you?"
Vambran blushed, regretting his words. "Forgive me, Elder Deepcrest," he said, trying to smooth things over. "I-"
Shinthala's anger fled as quickly as it had come. She dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. "No," she said. "You grew up in the city, as you so passionately explained to me earlier. I should have realized you would read my advances as politic. I should be the one apologizing, for putting you in such an awkward spot." Then her smile softened, became somewhat sad. "I desired you from the moment they brought you before me," she said, blushing. "I do not often act on such impulses, especially with soldiers who destroy my forests, but there was something… urgent… about you, and it sparked a fire in me." She looked down, then, staring at the ground between them. "I felt torn, angry with myself for experiencing such feelings. That is why I was so harsh before." Shinthala took a deep breath then, as though gathering her courage, and returned her gaze to Vambran's. Her voice was tremulous. "I would share your bed, but only if you were drawn to me as I am to you, and only for its own reward. I do not play those games, warrior, regardless of our current situation. That is not my way." She turned and hurried along the trail again then, hiding her face from his.
Vambran pursed his lips in thought, then caught up to the woman and took her hand firmly in his own, stopping her and turning her to face him. She struggled to meet his gaze, and he saw that her emerald eyes glistened. "Then you flatter me," he said. "And I have not said no," he added.
Shinthala regarded him thoughtfully, seeming to study his eyes. She smiled, and he wanted to kiss her. "I am a simple woman, Son of Arrabar, and we have met under remarkably complicated circumstances. I don't know what the future holds for either of us, but sometimes the simple pleasures help make the complicated things clear." Then she began to stroll once more, her movements decidedly more lithe than he remembered.
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