by Anne Logston
Chyrie rode in silence, her mind far from the argument, trying to ignore the persistent stabbing pain of spurs gouging at the horses’ sides. The pain was not as great as that in her ribs, but it was distracting, and she dared give no sign of it; the secret of her ability as a beast-speaker was one of the few advantages she and Val still retained. To escape the pains from without and within, she cast out her thoughts at random, seeking whatever she might find.
All around her she could feel the myriad small minds of the forest, bird and beast, as well as minds filled with intelligent thought, watching them as they passed. The hostility was not as great as she would have expected; rather, she felt resentment, then realization and a horrified pity as watching elves realized the implication of what they saw.
(Valann, love.)
(What is it?) Val reached to touch his bow. (Is there danger?)
(No, I am only surprised. Moon Lakes watch us, yet in them there is hatred only for the humans. I almost think they would trouble themselves to aid us.)
(What?) Valann was as surprised as she. (How can that be? We are Wilding, not Moon Lake.)
Chyrie probed further, careful to make her touches light lest they be felt.
(They feel differently toward strangers than we,) she thought at last. (Perhaps it is because they tend the altars and are more accustomed to the sight of out-kin. They see us not as Wilding, but as elf. They are furious that humans could capture us and would kill these humans lest it happen again, but they are frightened of the woman who could cast such magic.)
(Dare you speak to them?)
Chyrie pondered a moment. (I fear they might see it as trespass. I have heard that many clans have lost the silent speech, and I sense no beast-speakers among them. If I offend, we lose all chance of aid.)
(Then let us send a token. They can take no offense at that.)
Chyrie nodded almost imperceptibly. (You are behind me and less visible to the humans. Tie a cord with the promise-of-reward sign and the Wilding knot, and drop it on the trail behind us.) Unobtrusively she slipped the gold rings from her ears and passed them back to him. (Tie these into the cord. If humans so value this soft metal, perhaps other clans do, as well.)
To their consternation, Rivkah rode back to them.
“You’re very quiet,” she said. “Is something wrong?”
“I have nothing to say to you or any of your kind,” Chyrie said with dignity. “And my body pains me.”
“I will try a strong healing spell when we stop at midday,” she said. “Bone is hard to mend, but ribs are less difficult than other, thicker bones.”
Chyrie locked her amber eyes with those of the human, and her voice was hard as stone.
“Never,” she said quietly, “will you lay hand to me again. Nor will crumb of your food, nor drop of your wine, pass my lips or those of my mate, though we were dying for want of them. Before I suffer your foul magic to touch me again I will turn my dagger and open my body to spill my entrails upon the earth.”
Rivkah’s eyes dropped.
“Why must you hate me?” she murmured. “I did only what my lord required. I tried to persuade him.”
“You have heart and mind of your own,” Val said sourly. He surreptitiously dropped the knotted cord behind the horse. “If you seek forgiveness of us, you seek in vain. You care nothing for the harm you do my mate by keeping her from our Gifted One. If she does not take my seed, it is many decades before she may ripen again, and who knows what harm those you pursued have done her? What should have been a joyful time for us has become a horror. You give our kin anxiety by taking us from them, and you endanger our lives by forcing us among those who would gladly see us dead. You earn only our enmity.”
Rivkah sighed.
“I can see why you feel so, but you’re wrong. We all care what we have done to you. Sharl is deeply pained. I would have spared Chyrie if I could. I would heal her if she would permit it. If there was anything else to be done, I would do it. But there’s nothing else I can do.”
“Free my mate,” Val said stonily. “Tie me if you must, or chain me, or strike me senseless, and then lay your spell upon me again as you like, but let at least Chyrie return to our people. There is no need that she and the child she may bear die with me.”
“I’ll speak to Sharl again,” Rivkah said unhappily. “Perhaps he will give in.” She gloomily kicked her horse to a trot.
(I am not sure I approve of your plan now,) Chyrie thought slowly. (Even freed, if I did not kill all the humans and they turned on you, you could not lift hand to defend yourself, and if their death did not release you, I do not know what we could do.)
Val shrugged. (You can approach the Moon Lakes. If they are for some reason sympathetic to our cause, perhaps they will aid you.)
(And perhaps not, and perhaps they will slay the humans and you with them,) Chyrie protested. (And even if they kill the humans and leave you alive, as I have said—)
Val clasped his arms around her waist. (If that should happen we will take their dead flesh back to the Gifted One and let him do what he can. But the Moon Lakes will not want them all dead. At least one, likely the lord, must be kept and made to tell why these humans have come here, and how many more there may be. This has grown beyond you and me, love; now it is for the welfare of our clan as well. If humans who can enslave us to their will wander freely through our territory, no Wilding is safe. The Moon Lakes will see this also if you tell them all. I would risk much to see these humans in torment for what they have done.)
(Then we must persuade the humans to camp before we leave Moon Lake territory,) Chyrie thought. (The elves of the Inner Heart clan may not be so sympathetic, and also the sight of humans camping on their land may incite the Moon Lakes further.)
(Leave that to me.)
Valann nudged the horse with his heels, bringing it forward to ride beside Sharl.
“We must strike an early camp,” he said. “Soon we will enter the territory of the Inner Heart clan, and their territory is even larger than Moon Lake, and their temper fierce. Only with an early start and a quick pace can we hope to pass their lands in one day, and we dare not camp there. Therefore we must camp within Moon Lake lands, and far enough within the boundaries that no Inner Hearts will know of our presence.”
Sharl glanced up at the sun, barely visible through the leaves. “How much farther?”
“At the pace of these horses, we will reach the bounds of Moon Lake lands in perhaps six hours. I would advise to stop in no more than five.”
Sharl thought a moment, then shook his head.
“The delay is too great,” he said. “It would cost us almost half a day’s ride. No, we continue until dark. According to what you say, every elf in the woods would have my blood anyway, so it matters little which clan we risk.”
“You enslave us to give you safety, yet disregard wise counsel,” Val said sourly. “As well you had not brought us.”
Sharl shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Valann, but as long as your presence improves our chance we cannot spare you. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I can trust your counsel under the circumstances. You have my word that you will be freed as soon as we reach the edge of the forest.”
Val snorted. “My concern for you would not dwarf the least grain of soil, but I do not hold my life and that of my mate in equal contempt. Therefore you may rest assured that I do not lead you into hazard, for Inner Heart knives will drink our blood as readily as yours.”
They fell back.
(What can we do now?) Chyrie wondered. (If they will not stop, we may pass from Moon Lake territory before the Moon Lakes will have a chance to help us, if indeed they might do so.)
Val sighed.
(They could not but hear our speech,) he thought encouragingly. (And we will stop at midday for food. The dark would give advantage against these night-blind humans, but still there may be hope. An attack by bows would be most effective—the humans have only swords. The Moon Lakes must see this also.)
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He ran his hands over Chyrie’s body, healing the remaining bruises.
(Would that my poor skill could deal with cracked bone,) he thought regretfully. (I can feel the pain of your ribs. That will serve you ill should there be violence and the need for quick action. Perhaps you should relent and let Rivkah heal you.)
(Never!) The thought came so powerfully that Val winced slightly. (Love, there are weaknesses in their binding. While we cannot ourselves raise hand to harm these humans, we can allow or even aid others to do so. We can plot and send messages as we will. What if one of these humans has already realized as much? If the woman lays her magic upon me again, how know we what bindings or ills she might lay upon me in the guise of healing?)
They rode in tense silence while the sun climbed higher in the sky, and higher. At last Sharl called back to them.
“Time for a rest,” he said after speaking to his companions. “We can stop at the next clearing.”
An old roadside campsite was located only a few minutes later, and Val helped Chyrie down from the horse’s back.
(Keep the humans’ attention,) Chyrie thought to him. (There is something in the bushes.)
“Do these humans never stop to make water?” she grumbled aloud, hobbling to the bushes. “I am bursting.”
“We are no more than a short ride from Inner Heart territory,” Val said, wandering over to where the humans were tying the horses. “Have you made a plan for passing through their lands whole-skinned?”
“We have been safe enough so far,” Sharl said, shrugging. “We haven’t seen another elf since we left the camp. They seem to be avoiding us.”
“Sharl, surely we can let Chyrie go,” Rivkah said persuasively. “I can see she’s in pain. Valann offered to let us tie him, or even knock him unconscious, if we lift the geas to let her leave, and then lay another on him. I can mix a sleeping potion for him to drink, if you like.”
“What makes you think she’s any better off alone and injured in hostile lands?” Sharl said, eyeing Valann suspiciously. “At least with us there are five other swords between her and death.”
“Each step takes us farther from Wilding lands,” Val argued.
“Even should we reach the forest’s edge and live to be freed, we two must then travel alone back to our own place. Having violated the territories of other clans, think you that they will be willing to let us pass again unmolested? If you care nothing for my life, allow at least my mate and the child she may bear to have some slender hope of reaching our people.”
“Sharl, listen to him,” Rivkah pleaded. “You’ll still have Valann as a hostage.”
Sharl was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
“I can’t allow it,” he said. “Chyrie’s presence insures that Valann won’t lead us into danger deliberately, and he said himself that they were safer from attack because Chyrie is fertile. Rivkah, I can’t let you waste your magic. If you hadn’t pressed yourself so hard healing Valann and casting the geas, you would have power available to conceal and protect us, and an additional geas would tax you even more. Chyrie will just have to go with us. If necessary, I’ll send guards to escort them home around the forest when we—after we’re out of the forest.”
Rivkah looked sharply at Sharl, but was silent. Valann scowled and walked back to Chyrie, who had emerged from the bushes.
(Sharl refused, as I knew he would,) he thought sourly. (What did you find?)
(This.) She showed him a knotted cord, her earrings tied at the bottom. (It is puzzling indeed. Here is the sign promising aid, but they have returned my rings. And I know not the clan sign at the bottom. Are they raiders, here to prey on the Moon Lakes, or have the Moon Lakes been conquered and their territory taken?)
(It matters not, if they offer help,) Val thought grimly. (I would ally with the very Silvertips who raided our lands last summer against these humans. But when will they strike? Soon we will leave Moon Lake lands, yet they give us no instruction to delay departure. What should we do?)
Troubled, Chyrie probed the forest.
(There are watchers nearby,) she thought. (Doubtless they have understood the humans’ plans and know that we soon leave. They will act in their own time. Let us take a good meal and rest. We may well need all our strength.)
Valann untied their packs, ignoring the supplies and wine Rivkah offered, and drew out their own dried meat, berries, and wine. They ate quickly, half expecting elves to leap from the brush, but the meal was uneventful.
(I know not what to think,) Val confessed as they rode away from the clearing. (Wildings would have attacked while the humans ate and their hands were occupied without weapons. Now there is little time before we cross the Inner Heart boundary, and the humans are alert.)
The Moon Lake markers came into sight, the signs glowing gently from stones beside the road. Val and Chyrie were still, listening intently although their expressions showed only composure. The group came closer to the markers, and closer—
—and then they were past.
Behind Val’s calm face, his thoughts were leaden with despair.
(Their offer of aid was a deception,) he thought disgustedly. (Why would even out-kin do such a thing, promise falsely and return your rings? What did it profit them?)
(Perhaps the offer was made in good faith, but some plan went awry,) Chyrie thought sadly. (Perhaps fear of the mage Rivkah’s powers held them back. Why should they risk themselves for out-kin?)
(True,) Valann admitted. (We should have expected no more. Certainly there is no reason to expect aid from Inner Heart, either. We must hope that the humans will honor their word to free us.)
Acute disappointment made the ride long and weary, although Sharl’s composure grew with each hour’s progress. By the time the sunlight began to fail, he was positively cheerful.
“My idea has worked,” he told Val. “It seems even these elves, fierce as you say they are, won’t attack us. Your fears for your safety are needless. You see we’re safe as long as—”
His words were interrupted as a shrill cry sounded above them. With amazing suddenness, a large and heavy net dropped, entangling elf, human, and horse alike in coils that seemed to constrict more tightly at each movement. Immediately, nearly a dozen elves dropped from the branches, swords and spears leaping to hand, and more materialized from the bushes at the sides of the road, bows at the ready. “Drop your weapons if you wish to live!” an elf shouted.
Chapter Four
Chyrie and Valann exchanged glances, then dropped their swords and bows. For a moment Sharl hacked at the net, clutching his sword despite the hopeless odds. Then, resignedly, he sighed and dropped the weapon. Rivkah, Romuel, and Doria quickly followed suit.
A slender female elf, nearly half again as tall as Chyrie, black hair coiled high at the top of her head and a hawk on her shoulder, stepped forward.
“I am Rowan,” she said, “Eldest of the clan of Inner Heart. For violating the boundaries of our lands, you are now our prisoners.”
Rowan waited until the elves had collected all of the weapons, then nodded. One of the elves stepped forward to slit the net open in front of Chyrie and Valann, and Rowan nodded to each as they stepped out.
“Welcome, kinsfolk,” she said, extending a hand to touch Chyrie’s cheek, then Valann’s. “My word assures your safety and fair treatment among us.”
She turned to the elves guarding the still-netted humans.
“The fair-haired female is as one Gifted,” she said. “Bind them all well, and cover their eyes, but gag her as well, also, lest she bespell us as she has our kin.”
She smiled at a stunned Valann and Chyrie.
“Reclaim your weapons, friends,” she said gently. “Did you not receive promise of aid?”
“That was in Moon Lake lands,” Val murmured. “But are you not Inner Heart?”
“I am,” she said. “Those elves there”—she gestured—“are Moon Lake, and those Redoak, and that one Owl clan. Our clans have joined our
lands two years past, four clans and yet one. You are Wilding, are you not? Your people have been but legend to us, of a clan known but never seen by any.”
“Our ransom will be full paid,” Chyrie said quickly. “Our Eldest will send furs in trade, or rare herbs—”
“And a rich ransom indeed could I claim”—Rowan smiled—“for an elf who may be bearing child. I will decide what I may ask in return for your release when I have questioned all of you. For now there is food and fire awaiting in our village, and our Gifted One to tend your hurts, and many, many kinsfolk awaiting my slightest word to begin a festival to welcome you. Which word is now given,” Rowan said, raising her voice slightly. One or two of the elves laughed and disappeared into the undergrowth.
“But I see you are in pain, kinswoman,” Rowan continued, gesturing at the leather wrapping Chyrie’s chest. “If we assist you to remount your riding beast, can you reach our village, or need I summon our Gifted One to tend you here?”
“I am not much pained,” Chyrie lied. In actuality when she fell from the unaccustomed height of her mount, she had landed badly, further battering her wounded ribs. Rowan looked at her dubiously, but glanced at the hawk on her shoulder. It launched itself airborne and disappeared into the trees.
Chyrie walked slowly back to where the elves were freeing the frightened horses, concealing her pain as best she could, more worried about the beasts than herself. The elves had obviously never seen such creatures before and did not know how to safely free them, and the horses were half-panicked, the whites of their rolling eyes showing, their hooves tangling in the netting. Chyrie soothed them silently and they quieted, but she let Val help the other elves handle the heavy nets and lead the now-calm horses away from the trap. While she was with the horses, she quickly removed the three carved-bone bracelets and the bear-claw necklace she and Valann had planned to leave as an offering at the altars.
Chapter Five
It took some time and difficulty for the elves to assist Chyrie back onto the horse’s back, and Val protectively behind her, and by the time they were done, the humans had been searched, bound, and blindfolded. Rivkah had been gagged as well, but the others muttered to each other in their own guttural tongue until a sharp warning poke from a spear silenced them.