Eleanor shook her head. I really don’t know, my memories are messed up. Something feels wrong, but that could just be my sense of equilibrium. I guess we should be grateful Merl showed up when he did. We knew the enemy was out to get us, and we still fell into their trap… again.
“Is she alright? Her eyes look strange,” Merl said, looking closely at Eleanor.
“She is talking to Will in his head,” Conlan said. Eleanor felt Will’s surprise that Conlan would divulge this information.
“Conlan, is it wise to give Merl information about us?” Will asked in English. “Don’t you think his arrival is a little odd? He claims he saved us from our attackers, but it all seems a bit too much like a coincidence.”
“Will, I’ve known Merl since I was two and I trust him. My grandfather has trusted him for nearly forty years. Can we give him the benefit of the doubt until he’s had the chance to explain?” Conlan asked, sounding mildly irritated.
You don’t think Merl can be trusted? Eleanor asked.
Actually, Freddie thinks Merl can’t be trusted; I just think we should be careful.
“Is there a problem?” Merl asked as he eyes flicked between Will and Conlan as they spoke.
Conlan smiled at him. “No, could we sit please? I would like to ask you some questions.”
Merl smiled amiably back at him. “Of course, you must feel awful and I am making you stand in this heat. I have questions for you, too.” They walked back to where they had set up camp. The sun was beginning to set, so Will set about lighting a fire. Eleanor half-sat, half-crouched next to Conlan and Merl and listened to them talk.
“What are you doing here?” Conlan asked the older man.
Merl smiled. “Your grandfather sent me. He heard about the earthquake and knew it must be you, or rather her,” he said, nodding in Eleanor’s direction. “I have been tracking you for a while and I caught up with you as those three men were tying your unconscious bodies to your horses. There was a fight, I managed to kill two of them, but the third one got away. Will helped me to bury the ones I killed and their bird too, it attacked me.” He pulled aside his shirt to reveal several long, recently scabbed over bloody claw marks which ran down his chest. “Ruined my favourite shirt,” he grumbled.
“What did the man look like, the one who got away?” Eleanor asked.
“He had black skin, black eyes and black curly hair. He was tall, muscular, good with a sword,” Merl told her, looking a little surprised she had spoken.
“The other two men, the ones you killed, did they look the same?” Eleanor asked, feeling something try to stir in her head. Merl nodded.
I can show you my memories of burying them later, if you want, Will offered.
Eleanor nodded. Thanks. Giving him a quick smile, she pulled her energy free.
“So how are you? Other than being a little green…” Merl asked with a chuckle.
“I am fine. But why did Gregor send you?” Conlan asked.
“He thought you could do with the help. He knew that if Nethrus was gone, you must have had an altercation with Jarrick, and after what you told him when you visited he was worried you may have been hurt, or worse. Is Jarrick dead?” Merl asked, his eyes moving up and down Conlan’s body as if looking for injuries.
“Yes,” Conlan replied flatly, giving Eleanor a glance she did not understand.
Merl sighed. “I remember him as a child – he was so sweet, he used to follow you around, copy everything you did. How did that turn to such bitter hatred?”
“I let him believe he was not loved,” Conlan said quietly, giving Eleanor another look, but this one she did understand, as his expression was one of pure guilt. Eleanor gasped as she felt the emotional equivalent of his look wash over her; she had not known how badly he was feeling over what he had done to Jarrick.
“Why did you do that?” Merl asked. “I never took you for the callous type.”
Conlan hung his head and sighed. “I thought I was protecting him, I thought if I kept him at a distance our father would ignore him. Apparently he hurt Jarrick anyway, only I left him to deal with it by himself. I made a mistake, one that cost Jarrick his life.”
Horrified, Eleanor shook her head. “No, Conlan, that was my fault,” she said in English.
He raised his head and gazed at her with one of his deep, unfathomable stares. “Whose emotions were you acting on?” he asked softly, the look in his eyes telling her he already knew the answer.
“Yours,” she whispered honestly.
“Daratus has a lot to answer for,” Merl said, employing a deep snarl to indicate he would like to make him pay for his crimes, politely ignoring the conversation Eleanor and Conlan were having. Eleanor’s mind stuttered to a halt. Daratus… not Douglas… Daratus, Conlan’s father is called Daratus… Terror pushed Eleanor’s system towards panic, and her heartbeat raced, forcing out her breath in short gasps.
“Eleanor? Are you OK?” Conlan asked in English, moving forward and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Is she alright? She does not look well,” Merl commented.
“She is terrified,” Conlan said as he held her gaze. She stared back blankly, not understanding where the fear was coming from, and so having no idea how to stop it.
“She just looks ill to me. How can you tell she is terrified?” Merl enquired, moving a little closer so he could study Eleanor’s face.
“I can feel it,” Conlan said softly.
“You can feel her emotions?” Merl asked incredulously.
Still not taking his eyes off Eleanor’s face, Conlan nodded. Slowly his words reached through the terror’s grip. He can feel my emotions, too?
“Eleanor,” Conlan said. “Can you tell me why you’re afraid?”
“Daratus… I think he sent the men, which means he knows where we are,” Eleanor said, still speaking English and making a couple of mental leaps she had no evidence for, just a strong hunch. Merl was watching intently; Eleanor found the scrutiny a little creepy.
“Are you sure about that?” Will asked from behind her. Eleanor turned her head to find he had started the fire and was putting water on to heat.
“No, there’s nothing sure where these memories are concerned… I’m sorry, I really can’t remember…” she tailed off. Eleanor tried not to cry, but it was too late, the tears were falling. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Looking up she saw Freddie and Amelia step into the firelight; Amelia was carrying the dead body of a large lizard.
Freddie marched towards Eleanor and crouched at her side. He glared at Conlan.
“Take your hands off her,” he snapped. Guilt flashing across his face, Conlan took his hand from Eleanor’s shoulder.
“It’s not his fault, Freddie,” Eleanor tried to explain. Freddie put his arms around her and Eleanor closed her eyes, resting her head against Freddie’s chest, a wordless comfort.
“What happened?” Freddie asked over her head.
“Eleanor thinks Daratus knows where we are,” Will told him.
“What was that about? Is she OK?” Merl asked.
“Eleanor thinks Daratus sent the men who attacked us,” Conlan said.
“Does this mean she remembers?” Merl asked.
Eleanor shook her head, looking at Merl. “It is not a memory, just a strong feeling.”
“So what do we do?” Will asked in English, including Freddie in his question.
“It’s not really enough to go on, at least not until we find out more. We should keep going,” Conlan said.
“OK, but could we at least take it in turns to sit guard at night?” Freddie asked, sounding irritated. “I’ll start tonight.”
“Are you sure? That dart didn’t do you any more favours than it did the rest of us,” Will said.
“I could ask Merl...” Conlan started.
“No!” Freddie snapped, giving Merl a distrustful look. “I’d feel better if it was just us,” he added, making his tone softer as he caught the flash of annoyance in Conlan’s face. Mer
l had noticed Freddie’s look and raised an eyebrow at Conlan in question.
“We are just setting up some precautions,” Conlan said.
Still suffering from the effects of the drug, they ate very little for dinner and went to bed early. Eleanor lay with her eyes closed, pretending to sleep but instead listening to Merl and Conlan talk. Conlan asked questions about his grandfather and Merl asked about their travels and activities. Eleanor realised as the conversation progressed that Conlan was giving very little information away. Each question he asked tested the extent of the knowledge Merl already had, and Conlan gave no information beyond this level. Merl knew they were looking for the Talismans, but he did not know what the Talismans were or where they had been before Nethrus. Eventually Merl asked what they were doing in a dangerous place like the southern savannah. ‘We need to speak to the People of the Horse’ was Conlan’s terse reply. Merl asked if he could tag along for a while, in case they needed his help. Conlan agreed, but Eleanor heard the hesitation in his voice – he had listened to Will and Freddie, and he was being cautious. Explaining that he was still feeling unwell, Conlan called a halt to the conversation as Merl’s questions became more insistent.
Eleanor listened to the night; out here the darkness was more alive than the day. She heard the whining barks of some sort of fox as it hunted the small weasels and shrews that inhabited the flat world around her. She had never seen any of these animals, but when she pushed her energy out she felt them. She was tired, but her mind did not seem to want to sleep. It occurred to her why as the silence beat against her – she could not hear Freddie snoring. Would it help if she went and slept closer to Conlan, so she could hear him breathe? She tried to stifle a yawn and failed miserably. Opening her eyes, she could see Merl sat a few feet from Conlan, staring into the fire. He raised his eyes and focused on something behind Eleanor’s head, a questioning look on his face. Turning, she saw Freddie sat behind her, his back against a small, thin tree, his glittering black eyes returning Merl’s stare. Merl pulled himself up and walked over to Freddie’s side, crouching next to him.
“I am not the threat you think I am,” he whispered in a pleasant tone. Not understanding the Dwarfish, Freddie just glared at him. The older man shrugged, moved a little distance away and curled up. He closed his eyes to sleep.
Freddie, Merl was just telling you he’s not a threat, Eleanor said as Freddie pulled her offered energy towards him.
He can say it all he likes, but it doesn’t mean it’s true.
No, I suppose not, but if Conlan and Gregor trust him, maybe we should trust their judgement.
Silence.
Freddie, I need to talk to you about something. I was going to say something earlier but then we were attacked and…
You still love him. Freddie’s voice was hard, cold.
Eleanor cringed. Yes, I do, I think I always will. I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes; you want more from me than I’m able to give. Can’t we just be friends?
More silence, but Eleanor could feel the sharp bursts of Freddie’s pain slipping through his defences. Wrapping her blanket around her, Eleanor stood and shuffled heavy-eyed to Freddie’s side.
Want some company?
He did not look at her, but gave a small nod of his head. Eleanor sat next to him, yawning again.
You need to sleep, you’re still ill from that dart. Come on, lie down, Freddie said quietly, patting his thigh.
Freddie… Eleanor started, feeling uncomfortable.
Just friends, Eleanor.
She nodded and sank to the ground, guilt pulsing through her as she wrapped her blanket around her and rested her head on Freddie’s leg. He stroked her hair tenderly as she drifted off to sleep.
The first rays of the morning sun were splashing liquid silver across the barren land when Eleanor woke to Freddie stretching his stiff back slightly, massaging the knots.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, offering her a tired smile as she sat up. They watched as across the fire Conlan stirred, wincing as he sat up and absently rubbed his side. He noticed their scrutiny, his expression another one Eleanor did not understand. She smiled at him but he did not return it; rather, he held her gaze for a moment longer, a frown knotting his forehead, before he stood and moved off to collect firewood.
“What did I do now?” Eleanor murmured, watching his back as he walked away. Freddie shrugged.
As they travelled they rotated the watch every night. Freddie had stubbornly resisted Conlan’s suggestions that Merl be included in this nightly vigil. The argument had eventually come down to a vote. Will had agreed with Freddie, saying it was a sensible precaution. Eleanor had voted against Freddie, as she rather liked Merl. Amelia had pointed out she had nothing against Merl, but she agreed that she was not ready to trust him to watch over them as they slept. The result of the vote had put Conlan in a foul mood for days. Eleanor did not understand Freddie’s reaction, as Merl had done nothing at all to arouse suspicion, he was funny, friendly and chatty, telling them stories about the things Conlan had got up to as a child. Eleanor enjoyed listening to his tales and asking whispered questions about Conlan she knew he would not have answered himself. Journeying further into the savannah they saw no one, so it was a big surprise to Eleanor when she was prodded awake, early one morning, with the sharp tip of a sword in her shoulder.
The Sword
It had been Will’s turn to watch over them, and as Eleanor’s eyes flew open, her first thought was that Conlan was in trouble. She sat bolt upright, tense, looking for the danger and found it all around them. Twenty tall, muscular men stood in a rough circle along the perimeter of their camp, so confident in their numbers that not every sword was drawn. They all had ebony-black skin, short black hair and black eyes; they blended effortlessly into the early morning light. Why are they just stood watching us? Eleanor thought distractedly, watching as Freddie got the same rough wakeup call she had received. Will and Amelia were already awake. Will was sat very still, the sharp edge of a small blade pressed into his throat, while Amelia sat stiffly next to him, her gaze riveted on the man crouched behind them with his knife at Will’s neck. The man did not acknowledge Amelia’s presence; in fact, he looked bored. To her left Eleanor saw that Conlan and Merl were also awake, their expressions tight and guarded.
“Will, you were meant to be on watch,” Eleanor said in English, giving him an accusing glance and receiving a withering one in return.
“They came out of nowhere, like ghosts,” he replied, wincing as the blade at his neck bit deeper and drew a thin line of blood just visible in the shadows.
“Shut up,” ordered the man holding the weapon, his Dwarfish sounding odd and yet familiar. Eleanor’s mind tried to start a thought but it came to a stop as it hit the jumbled mess of corrupted memories. Angry at her uncooperative brain and at Will for letting the enemy get that close, Eleanor glared at the man.
“Why do you people always start with ‘Shut Up!’?” she asked, underlying the Dwarfish with a heavy layer of irritation. “We just met you; it would be far more polite if you introduced yourselves first! Is there some book on taking us prisoner I do not know about, which states you must first tell us to shut up? I am just wondering, because I would have thought you could have come up with something a little more original!” The man stared back at Eleanor with open-mouthed surprise, while several of the other men sniggered. A peeved look settled onto his face.
“How about, ‘Shut up or this man is going to lose a lot of blood’?” he drawled.
Without thinking, Eleanor answered the question. “Well, it is an improvement I suppose, but you still included the words ‘Shut Up’, so it’s not really good enough.” Eleanor saw the disbelief in his face change to anger. I’m risking Will’s life. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but for some reason she wanted to trust this man. She did not feel threatened or even afraid, but then again she was not the one with a knife at her throat. The blade had not moved any further o
n Will’s neck, so Eleanor decided to push her luck and trust her instinct about the man holding it. “My name is Eleanor, what is yours?”
“Nials,” the man said, the surprise now in his voice. Eleanor wondered if he was surprised at her or himself for actually replying.
Eleanor smiled. “I am pleased to meet you, Nials. The man you are threatening is my friend, Will. He is actually quite harmless.” Will flashed her an amused look. Eleanor ignored it and continued to focus on Nials. “You can take your knife from his throat,” she continued. “You outnumber us, so what threat could we be?”
“I have orders to follow,” Nials said.
“I am not a great believer of orders myself, unless I am issuing them, of course,” Eleanor said conversationally, wanting to keep the man talking; information was good and could save their lives. “What are your orders?” she added with another smile.
“We have to keep you here until Urerla arrives.” Again he sounded surprised, but this time Eleanor was fairly sure it was because he had answered her question.
Eleanor nodded. “I was wondering, would it hurt if you just asked us to stay put until Urerla gets here? I do not think threatening us is necessary, or do your orders state that you have to make us bleed? We have done nothing to threaten you, and frankly I am getting a little irritated with the general attitude of strike first, ask questions later. We are trying to help the people of Mydren and we just keep getting hit, stabbed and poisoned, I am starting to feel deeply unappreciated!” To Eleanor’s surprise, Nials removed his knife from Will’s throat and stood in a fluid, graceful movement.
“Thank you,” Eleanor said.
Nials stared at her for a moment. “You might not want to thank me just yet,” he replied with soft menace. “Perhaps I removed my knife from his throat so I could slit yours.” Eleanor waited for the fear to rise, but none came. She smiled at him.
Eleanor Page 50