The antlioch crept onward through the trees, heading toward the distant coast. She wasn’t sure why Merwyn had instructed her to go that way, except that it would place them on the other side of the Emperor’s Path from the Dreilore. Of course . . . there could easily be more of them near the road.
Spotting something white near the distant trees, she quickly patted the antlioch’s side, making it halt. Her breath hitching in and out, she narrowed her gaze. It was white hair. Since the person’s back was turned, she could not tell for sure if he was one of the Dreilore, or if he was even a he—though she thought so—but the long white hair was a defining characteristic of their race. Only those of noble standing grew it past their shoulders. Lesser Dreilore were forced to keep their hair short.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she stared at the distant form, waiting to see what direction he’d move, but he just stood there, peering in the direction of the coast.
Merwyn tapped her shoulder, then pointed past her face to the left.
Her eyes darted in that direction and she nearly fell off the antlioch. Approaching the lone Dreilore was Egrin Dinoba himself. She no longer heard the distant voices, and couldn’t help but wonder if Egrin had come from that direction.
Saida felt unable to move as she watched the emperor approach the Dreilore through the trees. The Dreilore turned, then offered Egrin a small bow. Tiny white jewels in the Dreilore’s hair caught the sunlight.
The pair began conversing, but they were too far off for her to make out what was said.
Merwyn tapped her shoulder again, then gestured to the right, indicating they should try and quietly flee.
She knew he was right, but something stopped her. Egrin Dinoba, the man framing her people for the Akkeri attacks, was right there. If he were to disappear, Faerune might be saved from the war that was surely approaching. She’d never killed anyone before. She had no idea how she’d actually best him . . .
She turned around to meet Merwyn’s waiting gaze, then mouthed you must run.
Merwyn’s sea-blue eyes widened, then he shook his misshapen head.
Saida turned her gaze back toward the emperor, then gasped. Both he and the Dreilore were gone. She glanced all around, but saw no signs of them.
She turned back to Merwyn. “If Egrin disappears,” she whispered, “I can delay the war. I can buy my people time to prepare.”
He shook his head again. “If you get yourself killed, there will be no one left to warn them. We must make for Faerune. We cannot sacrifice your life for this.”
“The Dreilore are here. War has been all but declared. A warning means nothing if it comes too late.”
She slid down from the antlioch, narrowly avoiding Merwyn as he reached for her. Clutching her borrowed belt knife to ensure it was still there, she hurried away through the trees. If Merwyn knew what was good for him, he’d take the antlioch and run far away. She needed to find the emperor. If he was simply meeting with the Dreilore and intended to part ways soon, this might be the most vulnerable he’d ever be. She gritted her teeth as she remembered the bow on the antlioch, but it was too late to return for it now, lest she lose Egrin’s trail.
Her back stiffened, then she turned around and glared at Merwyn atop the antlioch. He pointed to the creature’s back, clearly implying she should get back on.
She shook her head sharply, then thought better of moving on without the bow. She hurriedly crept back to the antlioch’s side, unstrapped the bow from their supply sacks, then just as quickly hurried onward. The emperor could already be heading back toward a horse waiting to carry him to the safety of his castle.
Merwyn dismounted the antlioch and scurried up behind her. “These woods may be filled with Dreilore. You do not stand a chance of reaching the emperor,” he whispered.
He was right. She knew he was right. “I have to try,” she hissed.
“Then let me help you,” he sighed. “I’m a far better sneak than you.”
Finally, she turned fully toward him. He had managed to sneak his way past countless guards into the castle. She knew she’d never manage the same. If anyone stood a chance of sneaking up on Egrin Dinoba, it was Merwyn.
“You might be killed,” she breathed. “I cannot ask you to do this.”
“Let us keep our distance from him and watch,” he whispered. “He may remain with the Dreilore, eliminating any chance of success regardless.”
She thought about it for several long moments, then nodded. They could lose a few hours to watch Egrin and see if an opportunity to end his wretched life presented itself. If he remained well-guarded, they would continue on toward Faerune. It was a compromise both she and Merwyn could live with . . . hopefully.
Elmerah
Elmerah kicked a rock in her path. Alluin walked ahead silently. Without mounts, it would take three wretched days of travel to reach the next Valeroot settlement. At this rate, they’d never catch Saida to send message to Isara . . . not that she cared, she assured herself. Alluin’s plan was far-fetched at best. To overthrow an entire empire was absurd.
And yet, here she was, still following him.
“What if we can’t catch up with her?” she called out. “She and Merwyn have the antlioch after all. They’re likely halfway to Faerune by now.”
“Then we’ll travel all the way to Faerune,” he replied, not so much as glancing back at her. “This plan cannot move forward until we know Isara will take the throne. Once that has been ensured, we will kill Daemon and Egrin.”
“So we’ll just travel halfway across the bloody continent, then turn back around and murder two of the most well-protected men in existence, is that all?”
He finally stopped walking and faced her.
At the look of desperation in his eyes, she suddenly wished she hadn’t spoken at all.
“Don’t you think I realize how foolish this all is?” He tossed his hands up in the air. “To enact years of planning all at once?” He shook his head, lowering his hands. “This is the only way, Elmerah. The only way to stop what has been put into motion. I can’t just stand idly by while my people are slaughtered. I cannot just run and hide.”
She winced. Running and hiding was exactly what she wanted to do. She’d been placed in a similar position once before, when her sixteen year old sister had wanted to rally the Arthali to attack the Empire, even after their mother had been murdered.
“I know what to do,” she breathed, resignation making her knees feel weak.
He eyed her steadily. The wind picked up, blowing about his rich brown hair, making him seem a bit wild, a bit crazed. “If you still want to run,” he said finally. “I cannot stop you.”
She shook her head. “I think, perhaps, I’ve run enough for one lifetime. I know someone who never runs away from anything, and she may be the only person who can bring your mad plan to fruition. I feel if I don’t give in to this now, it will be too late.” Her instincts screamed at her to shut up. She did not want to do this.
He blinked at her, clearly stunned. “Who? Who can possibly help us?”
She was either going to help him, or she wasn’t. She had to make a choice. She gritted her teeth. “My sister. Her ultimate plan is to overthrow the Empire. You are not the only one with a mad plan in the Capital.”
His jaw dropped. “But she’s working with him. She’s sending slaves to the Salisfait mines, and who knows where else.”
Elmerah nodded. “All to gain lands for the Arthali. She wants to strengthen our people once more, and while the emperor is busy conquering new realms, she will strike at his back like the viper she is.”
He shook his head. “I do not understand. What is it you think Rissine could do for us?”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. She couldn’t believe she was actually saying this. “You want the emperor dead to save the elves. Rissine wants to use the emperor to restore the Arthali, at which point she’ll want him dead too. She may be an evil witch, but her goals are not far from yours.”
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He nodded, seeming to catch on. “And if Rissine supports our cause, she’ll be partially responsible for placing Isara on the throne. It could put her in an excellent position to strengthen the Arthali.”
“Yes,” she breathed, her chest tight, “and Isara would be allied with an army of Arthali. My people would be restored and your new empire strengthened.”
“You don’t sound terribly excited about the prospect,” he observed.
She met his eyes solidly. “Your kin were murdered by the Dreilore, enemies you would gladly slay if given the chance. My mother was murdered by her own people, the people I would have to agree to rally alongside Rissine if we want her help.”
His expression softened. “And you would be willing to do that?”
She bit her lip. She had hated the Arthali since the day she found her mother dead. They’d killed the Shadowmarsh witches to save their own necks. If she and Rissine hadn’t been out on a small fishing boat at the time, they would have been killed too.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t want to do this. If she never saw another Arthali as long as she lived, it would be too soon. “I think that if the emperor is to be stopped, this is the only way. If we can convince Rissine to help us now, the rest can be figured out later, once Egrin Dinoba is dead.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Birds chirped in the trees around them, grateful for a bit of sunlight on such a dark day. Elmerah wished she could feel the same. “Don’t thank me yet. I still need to speak with Rissine.”
He nodded. “And I still need to find Saida to tell her of Isara.”
They eyed each other across their joined hands.
Elmerah sighed. “I suppose this means we must say goodbye, for now. I’ll find Rissine, and you’ll find Saida.”
“But how will I find you again after that?”
Elmerah smirked. “Don’t worry, if Rissine agrees to this mad plan, I’ll have an entire guild at my disposal. Come anywhere near Galterra, and I’ll find you.”
He smiled. “You know, you are a far different type of person than I’d originally surmised.”
She snorted, then pulled her hand free of his. “I get that a lot. Now you better be on your way if you stand any chance of catching Saida.”
He started to turn away, then hesitated. “How will you get back into the city?”
She shrugged. “I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
“Perhaps you are the sort of person I’d originally surmised,” he chuckled.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said with a grin.
With a final long look at her, he turned away, then took off at a jog.
She almost debated taking the opportunity to forget her new promise and run, but instead, she turned back in the direction of the Capital. She’d have a long day’s walk to once again reach the gates, and an even longer night finding her sister on the other side.
Saida
Saida leaned her back against a tree as she gnawed on a hard piece of bread. They’d heard and seen more signs of Dreilore throughout the day, but the emperor was nowhere to be found. It was as if he’d disappeared into thin air, leaving a seemingly large, but scattered, contingent of Dreilore in the woods. Fortunately, it seemed she and Merwyn had eventually left the Dreilore behind, as they hadn’t heard them speaking in several hours.
Merwyn stood in front of the antlioch, stroking its forehead. While he wasn’t one to gloat, Saida suspected he was quite pleased to have gotten his way. With no signs of the emperor, they might as well head straight for Faerune.
Stuffing the last bite of bread into her mouth, she began to approach Merwyn, then halted at a thwish sound sailing toward them, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. An arrow landed with a thunk in Merwyn’s back, toppling him toward the startled antlioch.
Saida screamed, and the antlioch ran.
“Quiet girl,” a man’s voice hissed.
She turned in horror to find the male Dreilore she’d seen speaking to the emperor. He had a second arrow nocked, its tip aiming straight for her heart.
A panicked whimper escaped her lips. She wanted to check on Merwyn, but could not tear her gaze from the Dreilore before her. His eyes seemed to burn like smoldering coals as a cruel smile curved his smooth, bluish gray lips.
Looking her up and down, he lowered his bow. “I thought you’d be halfway to Faerune by now.”
“Who are you?” she rasped, raising a trembling hand to her heart. “Why would you harm Merwyn?”
He raised a white eyebrow at her. He was tall, taller than Elmerah or Alluin, making her feel tiny and helpless. “A Faerune priestess calling one of the Akerri by name? How . . . odd. Truly, I thought I was saving you from the beast. As for who I am, you may call me Lord Orius. I am the high commander of the Dreilore.”
Her entire body began to tremble. This Dreilore obviously knew who she was. She knew the emperor wanted to give her to the Akkeri, but to trouble the Dreilore’s high commander with such a task? “What do you want?” she demanded, her voice not coming out as strong as she’d hoped.
Returning his arrow to a quiver slung across his chest, Lord Orius stepped forward. “Why, I want you, of course. The emperor has my people searching for you high and low. It is beneath us, and I would like it over with.”
She glanced at Merwyn, lying still in the moss and soggy pine needles, then back to Orius. She needed to run, but she could not leave Merwyn behind, not if there was a chance he yet lived. “Why do you follow Egrin Dinoba? Your kind detest humans.”
Orius took a step closer. Too close. If he tried to grab her, she might not be able to evade him. “Yes, perhaps we do, but not as much as we despise the Faerune elves worshipping the Sky God in their crystalline towers.”
She shivered at the thought of the Dreilore tumbling the crystal walls of Faerune with this . . . creature leading the way. “Just as we despise the Dreilore,” she said boldly, “worshipping their demons in the dark tunnels of Salisfait.”
She heard a faint snuffle, and flicked her eyes to the side, spotting the antlioch slowly approaching. The stupid loyal creature was going to get itself killed. She turned her eyes back to Orius, hoping he hadn’t noticed the direction of her gaze.
He smiled at her smugly, giving nothing away. “Let us hope you live long enough to meet our demons, brazen elf. The rest of my contingent will be here soon to take you to the emperor. I have more important places to be.”
She winced, realizing why he hadn’t yet attacked. He was waiting for his inferiors to come and do it for him. If she didn’t run soon, it would be too late. She glanced again at Merwyn, then gasped. He was gone.
Her gasp came too late for Orius as Merwyn, his body sprawled on the ground, stabbed his dagger into the back of the Dreilore’s calf.
Orius cried out in pain, then stumbled as he whirled on Merwyn who breathed raggedly, the arrow still protruding from his back.
Saida staggered back, then lifted her fingers to her lips, letting out a long whistle like she’d heard Alluin do once before. The antlioch charged forward from its hiding spot in response.
Not having time to draw a weapon, Saida lunged at Orius, ramming her shoulder into his side just as he was thrusting the bottom edge of his longbow toward Merwyn’s skull. Put off balance by his injured leg, he staggered sideways, then braced himself against a tree.
Leaving her back vulnerable to the Dreilore, Saida grabbed Merwyn under his armpits and helped him onto the antlioch as it reached them. Holding onto a clump of wool, she smacked the antlioch’s rump, then used the momentum of its startled leap to pull herself up behind Merwyn.
An arrow whizzed right past her eartip as they sped away into the woods. Though Merwyn had been conscious when she’d helped him atop the antlioch, his body now suddenly sagged. She grabbed his spindly body the best she could with an arrow jammed in his back. His blood began soaking the arms of her green tunic, and it was a
ll she could do to keep him from toppling off the bounding antlioch.
“Please don’t die,” she gasped through her tears. She could hear shouts in the distance, back in the direction of where they’d left Orius. Her stomach clenched at the thought of him coming after her.
If he hadn’t fully despised Faerune elves before, he most surely did now.
Elmerah
It was near dark by the time Elmerah reached the farms leading up to the city walls. She had her hood up, but the farmers all still eyed her askance as they penned their livestock for the night. She’d been hoping to hide in a cart going into the Capital, but it was far too late for that now. None of the farmers would be moving any goods until morning, and she couldn’t wait that long. If she did, she might lose her nerve.
An elderly farmer near the road gave her a judgmental glare. “We don’t want any trouble, you hear?” His voice was like rough pebbles crunching under one’s boots.
“Then I’d move far from the Empire,” she hissed. “A lone witch will soon be the least of your troubles.”
The farmer continued to glare at her as she passed, clearly not taking her warning to heart.
She sighed, continuing on. Here she was, on her way to save the entire Empire, and they were glaring at her like she was a villain. She continued the rest of the way with her head down until the city gates came into sight.
Once she was close enough, she sidled off the road to devise a plan. The imposing iron portcullis was open, but few traversed the expansive stone bridge over the waterway spanning the outer walls, likely put off by the bevy of guards questioning any who ventured in or out. Torches blazed within the massive arched walkway, making it impossible to hide one’s face.
Elmerah stepped further aside as a red-faced man rode up on horseback, then dismounted as he headed toward the gates.
The Witch of Shadowmarsh (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 1) Page 21