She did not slow down, even when she saw the tower in front of her. They literally flew through the shallow water. An ordinary horse would have certainly slowed down. But Kelpie’s breathing was deep and regular, and her canter was still fast and lightweight.
They ran into the courtyard in full momentum, making a great noise as the horseshoes struck the cobblestones, she slowed the mare sharply so that for a moment the shoes slipped on the cobbles. She stopped right in front of the elves that waited at the foot of the tower. Before their very noses. She felt satisfaction when two of the usually steady and dispassionate elves, recoiled involuntarily.
‘Don’t be alarmed,’ she snorted. ‘I won’t hit you! Unless I wanted to.’
The elves quickly recovered, smoothing their faces to calm again, their indifferent eyes started back at her with nonchalance. Ciri jumped, or rather flew from the saddle. In her eyes was a challenge.
‘Bravo,’ said the blond elf with a triangular face, emerging from the shadows of an arcade. ‘A nice performance, Loc’hlaith.’
He had greeted her the same as when she entered the Tower of the Swallow and found herself in the middle of blooming spring,. But that was a long time ago and it no longer produced any impression on Ciri.
‘I am not the Lady of the Lake,’ she protested. ‘I am a prisoner here! And you are my jailors! Why not admit it?’
‘Please!’ she threw the reins to one of the elves. ‘The horse needs to be rubbed down. And given a cool water to drink. And take good care of her!’
The blond elf smiled.
‘Indeed,’ he said, looking at the elf leading Kelpie to the stable. ‘You’re an imprisoned here and mistreated by cruel jailors. It is visible at a glance.’
‘They get what they deserve!’ she put her hands on her hips and glared into his clear aquamarine eyes. ‘I treat them like they treat me. A prison is a prison.’
‘You astonish me, Loc’hlaith.’
‘And you treat me like a stupid kid. And you have not even introduced yourself.’
‘Sorry. My name is Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha. And I am an Aen Saevherne, if you know what that means.’
‘Yes I do,’ she had no time to hide her admiration. ‘A Knowing one. Elven wizards.’
‘You could call it that. For convenience, I use an alias, Avallac’h, so you can call me that.’
‘And who told you,’ Ciri frowned, ‘that I have any intention of talking to you? A Knowing one or not, you are my jailor, and I am…’
‘A prisoner,’ he finished sarcastically. ‘You already said that. Also that you are a prisoner that is ill-treated. The riding trips are undoubtedly forced, you wear a sword on your back under pressure and as punishment you have to wear those garments, which are so much more tasteful, newer and cleaner than the one in which you were discovered. However, despite the harsh conditions, you do not give up. The wrong that we have committed again you, you repay with rebellion. You also broke with great courage some mirrors that were true works of art.’
She flushed with anger and shame.
‘Oh,’ he added hastily. ‘You can break what you want. They are only things – even if they were made by artist several hundred years ago. Will you walk with me to the lake?’
The wind had risen and it somewhat eased her embarrassment. Additionally the tall trees around the tower provided shade.
The water in the lake was a murky green color, the abundant water lilies that adorned it’s surface, with their yellow flowers, made it seem like a meadow. The sandpipers, squawking and shaking their red beaks, move quickly away at their approach.
‘That mirror…’ Ciri stammered, her heels digging into the wet gravel. ‘I’m sorry about that. I was in a rage. That was all.’
‘Oh.’
‘They were ignoring me. The elves. When I speak to them, they pretend they don’t understand. And they speak to me on purpose so that I do not understand them. Just to humiliate me.’
‘You speak our language perfectly. However,’ he explained calmly, ‘it’s still a foreign language to you. Besides, you are using hen llinge, and they use ellylon. The difference are not great, but they are there.’
‘You understand. Every word.’
‘I’m speaking to you using hen lling. It is the language the elves speak on your world.’
‘And you?’ she turned away. ‘From what world are you? I’m not an ignorant child. At night I look up at the sky. There is not a single constellation that I know. This world is not my own. It’s not my place. I came here by accident… I want to get out. To leave.’
She bent down and picked up a stone, and made a motion as if to throw it at the sandpipers on the edge of the lake. She stopped when she noticed his stare.
‘When I go riding,’ she said indignantly, ‘I always end up back at the lake and the tower. Whether I head out on either side, whether I change direction, no matter what I do, every time I end up at the lake and the tower. Every time. I cannot get away from this place. So it is a prison. It’s worse than a dungeon with bars on the windows. Do you know why? Because it is humiliating. Ellylon or not, it angers me when they make fun of me and show their distain. Don’t pretend that you’re not laughing at me and despising me. Are you surprised when I get angry?’
‘I’m surprised, in fact,’ his eyes widened. ‘Extremely.’
She sighed and shrugged.
‘I went into the tower over a week ago,’ she said, making an effort to stay calm. ‘And when I came out I was in a different world. You were waiting for me, sitting and playing a flute. You said that you were surprised that I had taken so long in coming. You addressed me by my name, but later you gave me that nonsense about the Lady of the Lake. After that you disappeared without an explanation. Leaving me in this prison. Call this what you please. I call it contempt and malicious wounding.’
‘It has only been eight days, Zireael.’
‘Ah,’ she frowned, ‘ So, I’ve been lucky? Because it could be eight weeks? Or eight months? Or eight…
She paused.
‘Much you have strayed away,’ he said quietly, ‘from Lara Dorren. You have lost your inheritance, the bond with her blood. It is not surprising that people do not understand you, or you them. You don’t just talk differently, but think differently too – in completely different ways. What is eight days or eight weeks? Time is not important.’
‘I confess,’ she shouted back angrily. ‘I’m not a wise elf, I’m just a silly mortal. For me, time is important, so I count the days and even hours. And I figure it has been a lot of some and more of others. I do not want anything from you, I do not want you to explain why it is spring in these woods or why unicorns live here and I do not care why the constellations in the sky are not known to me. I do not care how you knew my name or how I came here. I just want one thing – to go home! To my world! To my people! To those who think just like me! In the same way!’
‘You can go back to them. After a period of time.’
‘I want it now!’ she cried. ‘Not after a period of time, dammit! Since time here takes forever! Why can I not leave now? I came here alone, by choice! So what right do you have holding me here?’
‘You did come alone,’ he said seriously. ‘But not by choice. Fate has brought you here and we helped a little. Long have we been awaiting you. Even by the standards of our time.’
‘I do not understand any of this.’
‘We have been waiting a long time, ‘he said not paying any attention to her objection, ‘fearful of one thing – that you would not be able to get here. But you did it. You have confirmed your origin, your blood. And that means that here, and not among the Dh’oine is your place. You are the rightful daughter of Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal.
‘I am the daughter of Pavetta! I do not even know who this Lara of your is!’
He paused. Almost imperceptibly.
‘In that case,’ he reconsidered, ‘It would be best if I explain who Lara is. But time is short, so I would prefer to use the
most popular explanations along the way. But from you recklessness and defiance you have harassed your mare…’
‘Harassed my mare? Ha! You do not know what my mare can handle. Where are we going?’
‘Id you’ll excuse me, I’ll also tell you that along the way.’
Ciri slowed Kelpie from her mad gallop.
Avallac’h had not lied. There, in the open, in the grasslands and heaths from which protruded menhirs, worked the same force that surround Tor Zireael. No matter which direction she rode or how fast, and invisible magic force pulled her back in a circle.
Kelpie snorted and Ciri patted her neck, looking calm at the bunch of elves. A moment ago, when Avallac’h finally told her what they wanted from her, she took off at a full gallop, to get away from them, leaving them as far behind as possible. To escape them and their arrogant and unusual request.
But there they were back in front of her. She had rode a mile, more or less. But Avallac’h had not lied. There was no escape.
The only good thing about the gallop was that it had cooled her head and soothed her nerves. She was calmer. But she was still shaking with anger.
I’ve fall in deep, she thought. By the gods, why did I enter that tower?
She shivered as she remembered Bonhart speeding up behind her on a lathered horse on the cracking ice. She controlled herself. I’m alive, she thought. So it’s not the end of the fight. The fight only end with death, everything else is just an interruption. So they taught me at Kaer Morhen.
She walked Kelpie slowly, but when she saw the mare proudly raise her head she encouraged her to a trot. She rode around the menhirs. The grass and heather reached to her stirrups.
Soon she caught up to Avallac’h and the three elves. The Knowing one was smiling mysteriously and watched her with his aquamarine eyes.
‘Please Avallac’h,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Say it was a joke.’
‘A shadow crossed his face.
‘I’m not in the habit of making jokes like this,’ he said seriously. ‘I will seriously reiterate that we want you to bear a son, Swallow, daughter of Lara Dorren. Once you give birth to the child, we’ll let you leave here and go back to your own world. Of course, the choice is yours. I imagine your wild ride will have helped you to make the decision. What is your answer?’
‘My answer is no,’ Ciri replied flatly. ‘Categorically, permanently, no. I’m not ready and that is that.’
‘I confess,’ he shrugged, ‘you disappointed me. But it’s your decision.’
‘How can you even ask such a thing?’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘ How can you? By what right?’
He looked at her blankly. Ciri also noticed that the other elves were watching.
‘It seemed to me,’ he said, ‘that I already clarified the secret of your origin. It seemed to me that you understood me. Therefore your question surprises me. We have the right and we can demand, Swallow. Your father, Cregennan, took our child. You have to give one to us. To pay off the debt. It seems to me to be only logical and fair.’
‘My father… I do not remember my father, but he was called Duny. Not Cregennan. I told you that already!’
‘And I told you that a few ludicrously short human generations mean nothing to us.’
‘But I won’t do it!’ shouted Ciri, startling the horses. ‘Do you not understand? I won’t! I hate the idea that you would try to implant a fucking parasite in me, it makes me sick to think that this parasite would grow in me, that…’
She stopped suddenly, seeing the faces of the elves. In two of them was reflected infinite amazement. In the third, an infinite hatred. Avallac’h intentionally coughed.
‘Let’s go,’ he said coldly, ‘a little ahead and talk face to face. Your views, Swallow, are a bit too radical to proclaim in public.’
She obeyed. They rode ahead for a time without speaking.
‘I’ll escape,’ Ciri broke the silence. ‘You will not be able to hold me against my will. I escaped from the island of Thanedd, I ran away from my captors and the Nilfgaardians, I escaped Bonhart and the Owl. I will also escape your hands. I will find a way with sorcery.’
‘I thought,’ he said, that you rely more on your friends. On Yennefer. On Geralt.’
‘You know about the?’ she said. ‘Well, yes. You are a Knowing one! Therefore you know about them because I was thinking about them. In my world, they are both in danger right now, in this moment. And you want to keep me here… For, at least nine months. You see, I have no choice. I understand that it is important for you to have a child of the Elder blood, but I can’t. I just can’t.’
The elf rode so close that their knees touched.
‘As I said, the decision is yours. We respect that, but we must take certain steps. You yourself will find that there is no escape, Swallow. If you refuse to cooperate, then you will stay here forever and you will never see your world or friends again.’
‘This is blackmail!’
‘Conversely,’ he ignored her protest. ‘If you will obey our request, we can tell you that time for us really does mean nothing.’
‘I do not understand.’
‘Here time passes differently than there. If you help us, we will reward you. Giving you back the time you will lose with among us. Among the People of the Alders.’
She was silent, staring at Kelpie’s black mane. I have to think of a delaying tactic, she thought frantically. What did Vesemir use to say – When you are to hang, ask for a cup of water. You never know what is going to happen before they bring it.
One of the elves whistled shrilly.
Avallac’h horse whinnied and nervously stamped the ground. The elf mastered it, and shouted something back in elvish. Ciri saw one of the riders pull a bow from his saddle. She stood up in the stirrups and shadowed her eyes with her hands.
‘Stay calm.’ Avallac’h said sharply. Ciri sighed.
About two hundred feet away rushing through the heath was a herd of unicorns. At least thirty of them. She had seen them before, sometimes at dawn come down to the lake under the Tower of the Swallow to drink. But they never let her approach them – they always disappeared like ghosts.
The leader of the herd was a strong stallion, a rust-red color. He stopped and whinnied loudly, rearing. He stood on his hind legs with his front legs pawing at the air in a way no horse would be able to do.
Ciri noticed with astonishment that Avallac’h and his elves had started to softly chant some strange, monotonous melody.
Who are you?
She shook her head.
Who are you? The question resonated inside her head, pounding at her temples. Suddenly the song of the elves escalated. The unicorn whinnied and the whole herd replied. The earth shook as the animals ran off.
The elves’ song stopped. Ciri saw Avallac’h wiping sweat from his forehead. The elf looked at her out of the corner of his eye, to see if he saw it.
‘Not everything here is as nice as it seems on first sight.’ He said dryly. ‘Not everything.’
‘Are you afraid of unicorns? They’re wise and friendly.’
He did not answer.
‘I’ve heard,’ she did not give up. ‘that elves and unicorns love one another.’
He turned his head.
‘Consider then,’ he said coolly, ‘what you saw then was an argument between lovers.’
She asked no more questions.
She had enough of her own concerns.
The tops of the hills were crowned with menhirs and dolmens. The sight of them reminded Ciri of the stone in Ellander, where Yennefer had taught her magic. Oh, that was a long time ago, she thought. Centuries ago…
One of the elves screamed. Ciri looked in the direction that the woman was pointing. Before she could properly realize that the herd had returned, led by the red stallion, another elf cried out. Ciri sat up in her saddle.
From behind the hill, on the opposite side, emerged a second herd. The unicorn guiding them was a bluish grey color.
Ava
llac’h shouted a few words. They were in the Elvish dialect, ellyon, that she found incomprehensible, but the command seem to be for them to grab their bows. Avallac’h turned
towards Ciri, and she felt her mind begin to hum. It was a sound quite similar to that of when you put your ear to a sea conch. But much stronger.
Do not resist - she heard a voice – Do not defend yourself. I have to make a leap. I have to transfer us elsewhere. There is mortal danger here.
Suddenly they heard a whistle and a shout. The rumble of shod hooves. From over the top of the hill galloped riders. A whole detachment.
The hill was covered with horses, and the riders wore helmets with crests. From their shoulders billowed cloaks, whose vibrant red, cinnamon and amaranth colors were reminiscent of the refection of fire in the evening sky.
With whistles and shouts, the riders headed towards them.
Before they had made it half way, the unicorns had disappeared.
The leader of the horsemen was a black-haired elf sitting on a dark brown stallion, who looked like a dragon – he was huge and had trappings embroidered with golden scales and wearing a horned bukranion. All the other elves had black hair and red jackets under their armor which was made of incredibly small steel rings that clung to the body like wool knitwear.
‘Avallac’h,’ he saluted.
‘Eredin.’
‘You owe me for the help. To be paid off when requested.’
‘I will pay when you ask.’
The black-haired elf jumped to the ground. Avallac’h also dismounted and motioned for Ciri and the others to do the same. They climbed the hill between the upright stones surrounded by bushes and blooming myrtle. Ciri eyed her companions. Both were of the same stature – very tall. But Avallac’h face was modest, while the rider’s commanders face resembled a bird of prey. Blond and black, she thought. Good and evil. Light and Dark.
‘Zireael, let me introduce to you this man – Eredin Bréacc Glas.’
Lady of the Lake Page 16