Days Of Light And Shadow

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Days Of Light And Shadow Page 18

by Greg Curtis


  Chapter Twenty Eight.

  It was summer in the garden. The blue blossom trees were showing off their full glory for all to see. The orange trees were loaded down with ripe fruit that should already have been picked. The vegetable gardens were bursting with fresh produce. Flowers were everywhere, and bees flew lazily among them. It was a glorious time to be out. To be helping with the family harvest.

  But instead of enjoying his time Tenir was standing out in the garden, desperately trying to remain calm as his daughter Sophelia so brazenly told him of what she’d done as if it was nothing. It wasn’t easy when she’d taken such a terrible risk. She could have so easily been caught and killed, and the thought filled him with horror. While many thought those of House Vora cold and calculating as befitted a trader’s house, they still valued their family above all else. And if she had been killed he could not imagine the terrible hole that would leave in him. In them all. But even worse was the fact that now she had done this foolish thing, she wanted to do things even more foolish. To use what little she had learned from the envoy to pressure Finell into ending the war.

  She imagined that Finell cared about Herodan. That he might think to save his life by freeing the human envoy. Such naivety.

  She didn’t understand the dangerous waters she was treading. Or the hydra that dwelled in them. She had no thought that Finell cared for no one save himself. But then when she had lived among the beauty and safety of their home all her life, how could she? She had never endured hardship. She had never witnessed evil. She had seen gardens and happy people. She had known the warmth of family. The safety of the walls of House Vora. And as they stood among the peach and blue blossom covered grounds of their home, he was seriously thinking that she should not be allowed to leave those grounds again for some considerable time. He could not risk her doing something foolish.

  “We must act to protect Herodan. Father, we must!” By the Mother she could pull at the cords to his heart when she wanted to. One look into her big blue eyes and all he wanted to do was say yes. But he couldn’t. Not when it was his daughter’s life at risk. And the rest of the family with her.

  “We must save all our family. And we must trust that Herodan is clever enough to look after himself. And maybe that King Herrick is not such a terrible man as Finell would have us believe.”

  “But -.”

  “No. The human boy told you of what he sent to his king. And Herodan has long spoken of King Herrick with fine words. We must trust in those words.” Even if that trust tore their hearts to shreds with worry. Because if they tried to do as she wanted, Finell and Y’aris would tear the skin off their bones in that foul prison of his.

  “Then we must act to end that prison.”

  “No. We must protect our own. Always and ever.” She knew that. Every elf knew that. It was always the family and the house, then the realm.

  “But father, it is monstrous evil. What they have done to that human. To all of them. I cannot hold that one of our house would allow such evil to continue.” He didn’t doubt the horror of what she’d seen, or the evil behind it. It was written in her face. But where was the understanding?

  “Continue?” Tenir turned to his daughter his face uncommonly long. “Finell and Y’aris created it.” It was the plain truth, unpalatable as it might be. Finell of House Vora was completely responsible for what happened in that dark place. It made no sense, especially for one of House Vora who should have known the terrible cost to trade of his actions, but it was true.

  “But the things they do in there. Acts of such unspeakable evil.” Sophelia suddenly ran out of words. She couldn’t speak such evil. She hadn’t been raised to know that there was such evil in the world. Maybe he and Freylin had cosseted her too much. But how could a father not dote upon his daughters?

  “Things that we cannot know about.” If he hadn’t been already, Tenir suddenly became serious. Learning of his daughter’s dangerous if desperate act had shaken him. He was a father, and no father could ever allow his daughter to stand in harm’s way. And he could not let her continue.

  “Daughter. You should not have gone to that place. If someone had seen you. If you had been caught.” He choked a little at the thought of what might have happened. The family had already been through so much. He had lost both his brothers, his sisters in law, and his mother in a short time. Then Elwene, possibly the brightest light in the house as she moved towards the Grove, had left them. The first of their family in many years to feel the calling, and a child of nothing but love. Her loss had hit him particularly hard. He could not lose a daughter as well.

  “Finell can never know. Y’aris can never know. You understand that they spend their days since this evil war began, hunting for traitors. And it is no longer that they only look among the low born. Many members of the great houses have been taken and questioned. Accosted and beaten in the streets. Some are even in that accursed prison. The elders have been assaulted. And as this madness grows, there will be more. I do not think that my nephew will draw the line at even his own house. And if he learned of your actions, he would regard us all as disloyal.” And even if he wanted to think otherwise, that snake by his side would make certain he didn’t. Y’aris was no friend of House Vora.

  “But we must speak out.” Of course she would say that. She was a strong young woman of good heart. And nowhere did he know that better than just there, just then. She had the fire of righteousness within her. Age had not yet replaced it with wisdom.

  “No. To speak against Finell is to become an enemy. And he has already been angered by you before.” Yet he was proud of her for speaking her mind. In the court she had spoken clearly and put her arguments forward with reason and passion. She had said what he was forbidden to. But that had been before.

  “I’ve spoken only the truth.”

  “But not his truth.” Sophelia turned to him, an argument flashing in her blue eyes, and he silenced her with a gesture. Somehow, despite the fact that she was a grown woman, he could still do that. But for how much longer?

  “My mind is clear on this. Daughter, you risked not just your safety with this brazen foolishness, you risked all of ours too. You endangered your mother and your sisters. You risked the good name of House Vora, and with it our future. Without our name we are nothing. We could not hold our heads high among the other great houses. We could not trade. You risked your betrothal, and the chances of your sisters to one day be promised. If House Allel learned of your actions they would end your promise in a heartbeat. You even threatened the career of your brother. If Finell had cause to doubt us he would have cause to doubt Herodan as he speaks for him in Tendarin.”

  “Finell is without common decency,” Tenir continued. His heart beats basilisk blood. But he is of House Vora. He is an elf. The elf of elves. He is high lord. And we are at war. We must trust in him to do the best for our people.” Even if there seemed to be little hope of that.

  “But -.” He knew everything she was going to say before she even began. And he knew that she was right. And it made no difference.

  “No. He is high lord. House Vora and Elaris stand and fall with him. We stand with him.” He hated being firm with his daughter, but he had to be. It was a hard lesson for the young to learn, especially in these days when there were so many who no longer belonged to a house, but she had to learn it. All elves did. Elves stood as one. Always. An elf was nobody with out a family. A family was nothing without a house. And a house could not stand outside of the realm.

  It didn’t matter that Finell was crazed. He was high lord. They could not stand against him. He could destroy them all in his madness, and he just might. But they could not stand against him.

  “You are confined to the house and the gardens from this day forwards.”

  “Father!” Sophelia looked upset.

  “No daughter. You will do as I say until I say otherwise. You will help your mother with the running of the house. You will help your sisters with their studies. And Master
Feria will bring your study materials to the house. And if anyone should ask, you are spending your days at home to work on your studies. Is this clear?”

  By the Mother his daughter had spirit, and he loved to see it in her. But not here. Not in such dangerous times. And so he stood his ground, staring straight at her until she had to look away. And slowly he watched her defiance die.

  “Yes father.” She bowed her head meekly, and he knew he’d won. He just hoped he hadn’t lost too. Maybe he was becoming soft as he aged. Maybe Freylin had affected him more than he knew over the years.

  “Good. Thank you daughter. I regret having to be so firm with you, but in time I hope you will see that it is for the best for all of us. For the family. For the house.”

  Sophelia turned to leave him, then abruptly turned back. “Is there nothing we can do?”

  Tenir shook his head sorrowfully. “No. The only ones now who can speak against Finell are the elders. And Finell has taken steps to limit their power. I fear that Elaris must be carried on this dark path until the Grove finally decides to act boldly.” And when they did he was worried that House Vora would be broken with Finell. And still there was nothing they could do.

  “Now go and visit with your mother and ask her how you can help her.” She finally left him, to do as he asked, but he wasn’t fooled. Sophelia had fire when she thought she was in the right. She would try again, perhaps coming at the problem from a different angle. Maybe she would approach Freylin.

  But he could be ready for that. He could never be ready for the loss of a child.

  Chapter Twenty Nine.

  “My lord we are losing. The humans have destroyed all our border towns, they have crushed the cities of Shadow Breath, Heartwood Grove and Whitefern. Our army is routed, and falling back before them. Forty thousand of our finest soldiers at least are dead, the rest are broken, and within weeks the humans will be here in Leafshade.”

  “We must sue for peace while we still can.” Y’aris hated giving the high lord the bad news, mostly because it was his failure. He’d always suspected that they would lose, the humans were numerous and possessed some terrible weapons. But he had thought in terms of years not months. Years in which he could slowly destroy the last of the high lord’s family and manoeuvre himself into position. Years in which he could take the throne for himself and finally begin the cleansing. Years while his master’s shambling army slowly grew and took the fight to the utra for him.

  It wasn’t to be. Despite his dreams the utra were simply too strong, and no matter how fast he recruited, his soldiers fell faster. Those accursed utra cannon. Why hadn’t he known that they could wheel them? And Finell, no matter his terror at being consumed alive by vermin, he refused to allow a conscription. Why? Y’aris didn’t understand, but he knew in the end it didn’t matter. Three weeks, a month ago the conscription might have let him turn the tide of the war. But no longer. Now they faced only abject defeat, and a new design had to be set in motion.

  But even out of failure could come opportunity as the sages said, and though the battle was lost, the war continued. Not that Finell the child as he thought of him, would understand his plans. He still thought this was all about his sister. About his vengeance. He really was a simple child. Evil, but simple. Unworthy of the throne.

  “Do not say it!” Finell of course, was still very dangerous, and with his youthful temper, deadly. One single wrong word from him and all of Y’aris’ plans would be lost, his dreams of taking the Heartwood Throne, dashed, and possibly his life with them. Children on the throne, surely it was a poor jape.

  “I am sorry High Lord, but we must face the truth.” He went down on his knee before the rotten little brat and bowed his head. He hated doing it, but from time to time it was necessary to show his loyalty. Finell appreciated such displays.

  “They killed my sister! They violated her! Then the filthy utra chopped off her head!” Finell’s voice was nearly a scream as he let his rage fill him. It was the only emotion he had known for a very long time. Ever since Y’aris had given him his enemy. And it had been a useful tool. While the high lord lived in his rage, he didn’t care that Y’aris’ watchmen broke every law of the ancient codes. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. All he wanted was blood. “And you want me to make peace with them? No!”

  “It does not have to be forever my lord.” Finally the chance had come to lay out his new plan. To set Elaris on a new course to purity that the high lord would come to believe was his own. To show him a strategy that would destroy all of his most hated enemies in time.

  “We sue for peace now. We offer a carrot to them to show our sincerity. A wedding perhaps. It is traditional. Your cousin Sophelia perhaps. And then we rebuild our armies. We uncover the ways to destroy these terrible cannon of the utra from afar. And then when they are asleep and comfortable in their beds, we strike. We kill them all.”

  “My cousin!” Finell was outraged, but not truly hurt by the idea. He and Sophelia had never been close, he had never been close to anyone save his sister, and before her father had confined her to the house Sophelia had been strong enough to tell him he was wrong from time to time. He hated that. So giving her away as a sacrifice to the humans would not be such a terrible blow. It was only the name, that she was of his family, of House Vora, that bothered him. Still even that could be turned to Y’aris’ advantage. It would drive a wedge between Finell and House Vora.

  “Then perhaps not her High Lord. But it must be someone of an important name, an important family, for the humans to believe it. They would not be convinced by the offer of a baker’s daughter. And Sophelia is the only cousin you have left of marriageable age.” And it was fortunate that she still lived. Y’aris had been ruthless as he’d slowly destroyed the high lord’s family, and in time he would have killed her too. A hunting accident like her uncle and aunt in Heartwood Grove perhaps. She spoke too often and too well against her brother’s plans, the plans he had given him. But now she could serve another purpose instead. Bringing the much needed peace to Elaris, and disgracing House Vora and the high lord in the same act. She would live though she would still be destroyed, and her family would blame Finell. The high lord would find himself even more alone than before, and only he would be there with him to keep him company. It was a brilliant plan.

  “And you would offer her to that utra king? A Vora?” Finell still seemed outraged by the thought. Or maybe he even had a glimmer of decency left in him. A tiny sliver of affection for his family. If he did though, it wouldn’t last long. Not when his own family turned on him. And they would. It was only a matter of time.

  “Not him High Lord. King Herrick is old and married already. His two sons are also married as is his daughter. And his grandchildren are not yet old enough to wed. But we are fortunate in that we have a lord of his court here. One who even has Herrick’s ear. The son of his old friend.”

  “The envoy!” Finell spat the words out like poison, venom in every syllable as he realised instantly who he meant. “No! Never! You jest!”

  Finell hated Iros with a passion. He had long before the death of his sister. At every step in his short reign, the human had been there to thwart his plans as he saw it. He had stopped Finell dead in his plans to raise trading taxes and limit the numbers of merchants visiting the land. Twice. He had prevented him from closing the doors of the colleges that took outside students from the uncivilised races. He had successfully spoken against his dreams of demanding gold from the nearer human border towns in return for protection. And always he did it with a honeyed tongue, so that none could even suggest he was impertinent. The man had a tongue of pure moon silver. Until he had foolishly let his anger rule him on that day in the court. A day that Y’aris still looked back on with fondness as he had so easily turned the court against him.

  Convincing the high lord that the human mission had to be destroyed had been easier than he had dreamed. And it had all but guaranteed that the war would burn brightly. Especially when he
had his agents send messages to the human lands telling the utra king of what had been done. Of the burning of the mission, the killing of its staff, and the slow torture of its envoy. Finell and Herrick both had fallen into his hands perfectly.

  “I’m sorry my lord, but it must be him. There is no other.” And that was another measure of how badly their soldiers had failed. He had expected to take at least a few human cities before the end. He had expected to have a few lords and ladies to use as he needed them. Bargaining pieces for when the war had finally had to end. But his armies had fallen woefully short. And with that failure Ander’s words from that dark night had echoed through his dreams each night for weeks. That he would lose badly. Grief how he hated that savage.

  The only good news he’d had was that the human’s family were dead, and with their deaths Iros had become Lord Drake in his own right. A minor lord from a minor province but still a lord.

  Time passed as the high lord thought on his words, weighing them up and looking for alternatives. Anything that saved a member of his family from being disgraced. Anything that allowed him to finally kill the envoy. But there were none, and eventually he had to accept it. If he had one emotion stronger than rage it was fear, and he did not want to be killed when the humans marched through Leafshade. He did not want to be fed to the rats.

 

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