He leaned in toward her shoulder as they walked. “Are you planning on doing some cleaning?”
At first she didn’t realize what he meant, then she cringed at the broomstick in her hands. She stopped walking and tossed it aside. “Someone stole my cutlass.”
He glanced at the broom sitting forlornly in the grass, then reached beneath his brown cloak to his opposite side, pulling her cutlass from his belt. With a smirk, he handed it to her, hilt first, but the smirk soon melted away. Something was wrong. He was worried.
She accepted the weapon and resheathed it at her belt, feeling better as soon as she was armed. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out, but was quite sure it was still the same day judging by her condition—she was hungry, but not starved, and the state of her bladder wasn’t overly . . . pressing.
Alluin continued to watch her.
She didn’t see Saida anywhere, so . . . “Are you not going to tell me what has happened since you brought me here? Where is Saida? Why do those elves want to turn her in to the emperor?”
“Saida and Merwyn are both here,” he assured. “They are gathering enough supplies to see them to Faerune. They will warn Saida’s people of what is to come.”
Elmerah nodded. It was as she expected, though she was surprised Alluin had brought Merwyn to the settlement. “Will you be gifting me with supplies as well? Or is my journey home not as important?”
He shook his head, his gaze distant. “You truly intend to leave, after all we have learned? What about Rissine?”
She fidgeted. Cursed Rissine. “I don’t imagine my sister will live for long whether I leave or not. She truly believes the emperor will pardon the Arthali, but I think it more likely he will use Rissine until her value is gone, then he will have her killed for knowing too much.”
“And you do not wish to save her?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Haven’t you been following along? I hate my sister.”
“But you do not wish her dead. If you stayed—”
She lifted her hand. “Why are you so determined to have me stay? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with me.”
He snorted half-heartedly. “Hardly.”
“You’re not doing yourself any favors with that attitude,” she grumbled, glancing around the small settlement. A few elves cast them wary glances as they walked by, but none outwardly gawked at her presence.
Alluin sighed, then glanced over his shoulder before leaning in close. “The emperor has terrifying magic,” he whispered, “and so do you. You may be one of the few people in the empire capable of besting him.”
She furrowed her brow. “He nearly killed me. My magic does little good if I can’t move or breathe. And since when did we begin plotting to kill the emperor?”
He shook his head. “We’re not. Not yet, but I’d be a fool if I didn’t consider the possibility. He’s allied himself with the Dreilore and Nokken. He bribed the Akkeri to attack the Capital, giving him an excellent reason for the new alliances. He can announce them to the city, and his people will cheer because their emperor is ensuring their protection from Faerune.”
“From Faerune?” she balked.
He nodded. “I believe that is his plan, to blame the elves for the Akkeri attacks. The rumors are already beginning to spread. The emperor seeks a Faerune priestess. He wishes to beg her to uphold her people’s treaties before it is too late, and he will pay a very large amount of coin to find her.”
Her jaw dropped. “He wants them to believe Faerune is planning an attack?”
Alluin nodded. “I believe so. It is only rumor currently, there’s no saying where it came from. But you have to agree, the theory fits.”
“Perhaps it does,” she agreed, “but to what end? He could justify the new treaties simply based on the Akkeri attacks. Why blame Faerune?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. Perhaps he wants to justify breaking the treaty by approaching the Dreilore. His people might question why he did not beseech Faerune for peace instead.”
Her shoulders slumped. If Alluin was right, it would mean all out war with Faerune. They were a mighty civilization, but when faced with the Empire and the Dreilore, they would surely crumble. Then there were the Nokken, less powerful, but highly capable as spies. In fact, some of them might have been in place in Faerune already.
She shook her head. “This is not my problem, not my war. I do not belong here.”
“You say that,” he began, “but I saw you turn around to face the trolls. You knew you might die, but you risked yourself to save three people you’ve only known a matter of days. I know there is good in you.”
She stared at him, fighting the slight trembling in her hands. Others had thought there was good in her too, and now they were dead. She would not make the same mistakes twice. “You know nothing about me, please do not pretend otherwise.”
Spotting Saida and Merwyn emerging from a hut, she turned away, not wanting to contemplate their fate. Both carried heavy leather sacks across their backs, and had water skins slung across their shoulders. They both seemed so small and defenseless. Yes, they could fight, but neither would likely make it to Faerune alive, let alone in time to warn the elves. If Alluin was right, the emperor could declare war on Faerune at any moment.
“I’m glad to see you awake,” Saida said upon reaching them. She tugged her new forest green tunic straight over thick suede leggings. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, but time is short.”
Elmerah took in Merwyn’s hunched frame, his eyes, as usual, on his feet. The few elves milling about glared whenever they glanced his way, absentmindedly stroking the daggers at their belts.
“You’d better protect her,” Elmerah ordered.
Merwyn’s head finally lifted. “I will protect her with my life.”
She nodded, “Good.” She turned to Saida. “And good luck. If you’re ever in the swamps of Outer Crag . . . ”
Saida smiled. “I find that unlikely, though if you’re ever in Faerune . . . ”
Elmerah couldn’t help her smile. “Also unlikely.”
Saida laughed, then turned to Alluin. “My thanks to you. I will convince Faerune the Valeroot elves are our only true allies. We will not let your people fall victim to the emperor’s machinations.”
Elmerah didn’t bother stating that is was too late. If Saida wanted to try and save everyone, who was she to stop her?
“I’ve equipped your antlioch with a few weapons,” Alluin explained, his gaze on Saida. “A bow for hunting game, and a few daggers for protection. I hope that you will not require the latter.”
Seemingly at a sudden loss for words, Saida hugged him, then quickly pulled away and turned to Elmerah with tears glittering in her eyes.
“No, no,” Elmerah held up her hands. “No tears.”
Ignoring her defensive stance, Saida barreled forward and hugged her.
With a heavy sigh, Elmerah returned the hug. While she felt sympathy for the girl’s plight, she could not afford to become overly emotional. Saida’s fate was not her problem. She had absolutely no business meddling in the affairs of emperors and elves.
Alluin
Alluin watched as Saida and Merwyn climbed atop an antlioch already bearing extra supplies, then rode away through the forest.
He let out a heavy sigh, wondering if they’d make it to Faerune. It was a long journey, and there would be many dangers along the way. Saida had promised to keep to the border of the deep woods near the Emperor’s Path. That would put her in some danger of running into the militia men searching for her, but she’d more easily evade them than some of the creatures dwelling in the deep woods.
There was nothing more he could do for her regardless. He couldn’t go with her. His people needed him.
“Well,” Elmerah began, fidgeting at his side. “I should be off too. I don’t suppose you can spare a messenger for a small task?”
He turned toward her. “What task?”
“I want to s
end a message to Rissine, telling her I’ve left the city, and to not look for me.”
“You truly believe that will do any good?”
Emerah nodded. “Yes, it will make her look for me outside the city, when really, I’ll be buying my way onto a ship at the docks.”
He turned away. “I will not argue further about you leaving, but I also cannot spare a messenger for such a task. They’ll risk being questioned by the militia.”
She walked around his shoulder so he had to look at her. “Consider it a thank you for saving your life. You know those trolls would have bludgeoned us all if I hadn’t intervened.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Compose your letter and I’ll deliver it to her house in the Spice Quarter.” He walked past her toward one of the central huts where he knew he could find a quill, parchment, and ink.
“You?” she balked, hurrying after him. “I don’t see why you’d need to deliver it yourself. You might be recognized.”
He reached the hut, then pushed aside the hide flap to enter. “I need to go into the city regardless. If my people are being questioned, I must ensure none of them are thrown into the stocks.”
She followed him inside, then took a seat in front of a small desk made from rough hewn wood. She stared up at him. “You really believe you can make a difference in what is to come? You’re only one elf.”
He met her unwavering, dark gaze. He knew there was only so much he could do. War would come whether he liked it or not, but . . . “Even just saving a single innocent life makes a difference. In your short time here, you’ve already made more of a difference than most will their entire lives.” He turned away and opened a trunk, then set a sheet of parchment and a quill in front of her. Next he uncapped a small vial of ink and set it beside the quill. “Try not to make any errors, we only have a few sheets of parchment left.”
She stared at him a moment longer, then picked up the quill and started writing.
“Your penmanship is abhorrent,” he commented, leaning over her shoulder. He couldn’t help himself, her writing was little more than a jumble of cross-hatched straight lines.
She glared at him until he backed away, then continued writing.
Once she was finished she blew on the parchment to dry the ink, then rolled it tightly. With a heavy sigh, she stood and placed it in his waiting hand. “Are you sure you want to be the one to deliver it?”
“Worried about my well-being?”
“No, just worried the letter won’t make it to Rissine when you’re caught halfway there by the militia.” She walked past him out of the hut.
He followed. “I imagine you’ll want to use the tunnels to re-enter the city?”
She turned back to him. “Yes, if you don’t mind, though I wouldn’t pass up a meal first.”
His stomach growled at the thought of food. He hadn’t had a chance to eat since they’d reached the settlement, what with the other elves worked up over the emperor’s search.
He was ready to lead the way to a hot meal, when a familiar form caught his eye.
Noticing the direction of his gaze, Elmerah spotted her too. “Is that—”
He didn’t hear the rest of her sentence as he stormed toward his sister, emerging from a hut. Half her face was purple and blue with fresh bruises, and her right arm was bandaged.
“What are you doing here, Vessa?” he hissed upon reaching her. She’d made quite clear whose side she was on.
She glared at him, her green eyes made even more vibrant in contrast to the dark bruises. “I’m trying to stay alive. Thera found me before I could leave the city.”
Well that explained the bruises. “You knew the risk you were taking in getting involved with Rissine.”
Vessa snorted. “What does it matter now? None of us can be seen in the city with the emperor on this new rampage.”
“It’s that bad?”
She nodded. “There isn’t an elf left who hasn’t been questioned. Why does he care so much about one Faerune priestess?”
Elmerah finally joined them as he replied, “Perhaps I would tell you if you wouldn’t just use the information to return to Rissine’s good graces.”
Vessa sneered, then turned her gaze to Elmerah. “I see you’re still alive too. Pity. If you keep venturing around with Alluin, I’m sure he can change that for you.”
Elmerah snorted, then turned to Alluin. “Food?”
“Yes,” he answered, still glaring at his sister.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Vessa growled. “You know I’d never sacrifice anyone here.”
“Oh?” Elmerah chimed in. “So you only sell elves you don’t know?”
Vessa’s glare darted between the two of them, until she finally huffed in exasperation. “You two should stick together. You’re perfect for each other.” She stormed past them toward the antlioch pens.
“Food?” Elmerah asked again, looking at Alluin.
He rolled his eyes and continued onward. He wasn’t sure which woman was worse. His morally corrupt sister, or the hungry witch eyeing him like he might soon become the meal if he didn’t feed her.
Elmerah
That evening found Elmerah making what she hoped would be her final journey through the secret tunnels. Despite Alluin’s displeasure with her, he’d supplied her with a small satchel full of goods, enough to last her for a couple days on a ship. She’d be able to resupply once said ship docked somewhere else, then she could buy proper passage back to Outer Crag with the remaining coin in her pouch. She only wished she’d be able to stay in her small hut in the swamp once she arrived, but she knew Rissine would send more pirates for her. She’d have to gather her belongings and go somewhere far away.
She nearly ran into Alluin’s back as he paused to unlock the final gate. They both went through, and soon enough the door leading into the hideout came into view, with one lone elf standing guard. She cringed when she realized it was Baeorn. One more person to call her a coward for running away.
Alluin greeted him with a silent nod and no explanation as to why they were there.
Baeorn looked to Elmerah. “Be careful in the city. The emperor’s bounty may be for the Faerune priestess, but the guilds are looking for an Arthali witch.”
“That would be Rissine’s doing,” she grumbled.
Alluin laughed bitterly. “I thought you wanted a bounty on you.”
She glared at him, then walked through the door as Baeorn held it open.
She endured the glares of many elves on the other side, as if blaming her for the questioning they’d suffered. She gritted her teeth and kept quiet until she and Alluin reached the door leading out into the alley.
He stepped outside with her into the cool night air, shutting the door behind them. “I’ll stay here for tonight. I’ll deliver your note first thing in the morning.”
She nodded. “You have my thanks.”
They stared at each other for several long moments, but did not speak.
She inhaled sharply, then straightened her satchel over her black coat and pulled her hood up. “Well, I suppose I’m off to find an inn near the docks.”
He reached out and gently grasped her arm. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t ask you one more time to reconsider. You could save a great many lives.”
She bit her lip. There was that cursed guilt again. She couldn’t quite make herself meet his eyes. “This is not my battle.”
His hand dropped from her arm. “Then I wish you luck on your journey.” He abruptly turned and went back into the hideout, leaving her alone on the quiet narrow street.
She stared at the door for several long moments before skulking away.
She could not get out of bloody Galterra soon enough.
Alluin
The next day, Alluin found himself making his way through the city. He stuck to the larger crowds, knowing that even with his face hidden deep in his cowl, some might recognize him as an elf. If one of the militia men tried to question him . . . well, he wasn�
��t sure he could keep his temper to himself.
He hurried through the crowd, everyone moving more quickly than normal at the threat of rain. He shouldn’t have stayed in the city this long at all, but his scouts had caught word the emperor intended to make an announcement. He’d left Elmerah’s note with one of the guards outside of Rissine’s house, then he’d made his way to the main square. He wanted to hear Egrin’s announcement with his own two ears, even if it meant being trapped within city walls no longer tolerant of his kind.
He reached the large, grassy square, surrounded by guards dressed in the emperor’s purple and white livery. All men stood at attention, hands resting upon the short swords at their right hips, and sword breakers at their left.
He stood back, careful to remain unnoticed. A glossy white carriage similar to the one they’d encountered near the coast had already arrived, though the emperor was yet to reveal himself.
The crowd muttered all around him, wondering why the emperor would brave the city on a soon-to-be rainy day. Normally, they would only see him on festival days, or on rare occasions where the lower classes were allowed in small groups into the castle.
The carriage door opened, and out stepped Daemon Saredoth, his straight blond hair almost as glossy as his pompous buckled shoes. Next emerged the emperor, his navy ensemble, though fine, no match for Daemon’s . . . sparkliness. The crowd muttered excitedly, then fell utterly silent as a third man stepped out from the shadows within the carriage. No, not a man. A Dreilore lord. His pure white hair, interwoven with twinkling jewels, was a shock against his black clothing. His skin mimicked the color of the stormy sky above, and his eyes were like pyres filled with embers.
Crushing certainty twisted Alluin’s stomach. He’d been right, right about everything. The emperor was about to announce his new alliance with the Dreilore, and the Nokken would likely not be far behind. The Faerune elves would be blamed, and perhaps even Valeroot, though they were disorganized, and didn’t even have a home besides Galterra.
The Witch of Shadowmarsh (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 1) Page 17