Fields of Wrath

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  The bard’s heir sang of objects intertwining, of the value of ancient bonds and brand-new alliances, of morals and ethics and the primal virtue inherent in assisting neighbors in need. She sang of the necessity of combating evil, even at the risk of good men’s lives, the age-old concept of preparing for war for the sole purpose of assuring peace, of remaining stronger than enemies to deter them from causing harm.

  Ra-khir had no idea if such concepts existed in the strange and alien minds of elves, but they struck deep to his own core. He felt himself drawn to Marisole. Apparently, he was not alone. By the time the last notes of the gittern echoed across the forest, he discovered all of the humans in a loose circle around her. He could not recall having taken a step.

  The faint rattle of brush sent Calistin and Magnus into identical crouches. Instinctively, they faced different directions, as if they had started back-to-back and pivoted toward the forest in perfect synchrony. Ra-khir suppressed his own self-preservation instincts. The elves meant them no harm and might see fighting stances as a threat.

  Marisole restrung the gittern across her back but did not reach for a weapon. She did glide a bit closer to Tem’aree’ay and Ivana.

  Tem’aree’ay sent out a khohlar greeting in words Ra-khir did not understand, though the accompanying emotion and context made it clear she welcomed her fellows joyfully and appreciated their time and attention.

  The response came in khohlar common tongue, and it seemed hesitant and lacking the excitement of Tem’aree’ay’s sending. *Why have you brought this abomination to us?*

  Calistin’s gaze rolled to Ra-khir. “Which abomination is he talking about?”

  It was all Ra-khir could do to keep a straight face. He supposed most Renshai became accustomed to name calling, especially Calistin.

  Though still out of sight, the elves must have heard him. *We’re referring to the muldyrein, the vesell argalfr.* He substituted elfin terms where human terminology failed him, then qualified once more. *This ivana.* He used it more like a common noun than a name.

  The mundane parts of the elfin language nearly approximated the northern tongue. Keeping his voice much lower than Calistin’s, Valr Magnus explained, “I think he referred to her as some kind of animal, then as a combination of woman and elf.”

  “A mule,” Tem’aree’ay clarified. “And a wretched woman-elf hybrid.” She returned to khohlar. *So, you reject my daughter, the fruit of my womb?*

  Ra-khir continued to study the woods, making out an occasional subtle movement or a flash of sun from a gemlike eye. He could not tell if the same elf or a different one spoke next. In khohlar, they all sounded the same, and he did not know enough about the differentiation of gender to tell the difference, at least from the mental voice.

  *We have no problem with your womb. But, apparently, when you intermingle our seed with pollen from human loins, you create something as abominable as the creature before us. Why would you bring it here?*

  Tem’aree’ay explained, *She needs your help, intervention beyond the ken of the human healers.*

  The answer came swiftly, *We cannot help her.*

  Marisole replied equally as fast, “Cannot? Or will not?”

  Calistin shifted in position, clearly losing patience. Ra-khir slipped around the others to stand within reach of his son. He did not need an edgy Renshai interfering. Dealing with elves often required near-infinite forbearance, and it seemed far better to allow Tem’aree’ay to deal with the matter, as much as possible, alone.

  An aura of disdain leaked through the mental contact, as if the elf found Marisole’s question beneath notice. Nevertheless, someone answered. *Magic has limits, including healing magic. Tem’aree’ay Donnev’ra Amal-yah Krish-anda Mal-satorian knows this well.*

  Ra-khir suspected Tem’aree’ay was getting additional information in the form of individual khohlar. Her usual smile had vanished, and the corners of her lips sank deeper with every passing moment.

  Tem’aree’ay sent out another group khohlar. *So you will not even examine her? Will not even listen to what I have to say?*

  Ra-khir pursed his lips, not liking the direction of the conversation. They needed the elves’ assistance against the Kjempemagiska. While a worthy cause, securing help for an individual, even a princess, paled in comparison. Even if the elves could make Ivana flawless, which seemed highly unlikely, she would die with the rest of them in the upcoming battle. Still, he did not interfere and hoped the other humans would not either. Only Tem’aree’ay had a chance of talking the elves into assisting. He could not wholly blame her for putting her motherly interests over all others.

  Tem’aree’ay received no direct response, which was, in itself, an answer. *Very well,* she sent. *It’s clear I have no choice.* The emotion accompanying the sending confused Ra-khir. It seemed simultaneously resigned and determined, grief-stricken and highly dangerous. She spoke aloud. “Sir Ra-khir, your dagger, please.”

  Ra-khir was attentive and at her side in a moment. He had taken vows to serve the sovereigns of Béarn and Erythane. Only the first wife of the king of Béarn held the title queen, the others queen consort; but they were still royalty. Without hesitation, he drew his dagger, offering the hilt to Tem’aree’ay with a grand bow and flourish.

  Tem’aree’ay stiffened a bit, clearly trying not to look put-off by Ra-khir’s display. She did not usually take part in affairs of state, leaving them to Matrinka or, more rarely, Xoraida, the king’s third wife. Gently, she tugged the proffered dagger from his hand. Leaning toward Ivana, she whispered something into the young half-breed’s ear, accompanied by an elaborate hand gesture.

  Apparently thinking it a game, Ivana screeched excitedly and lay on the ground at her mother’s feet.

  Ra-khir’s heart rate quickened. His nostrils flared. He spoke almost as softly, “My lady, please forgive me for asking . . .” He waited for Tem’aree’ay to glance in his direction, which she did not.

  Tem’aree’ay raised the dagger. Tears filled her eyes.

  Khohlar burst from the woods in several voices, all demanding or curious, every one wishing to know what she was planning.

  Tem’aree’ay explained, her sending heavy with grief, *I can’t suffer Ivana Shorith’na Cha-tella Tir Hya’sellirian Albar to live this way, not knowing we can make her life so much better.*

  A dense silence followed as every human, every elf, considered those words. No one tried to stop her.

  Tem’aree’ay waited until the perfect moment, when the hush became a painful crescendo. *And when I’m finished with this horrible deed, I will have no choice but to take my own life as well.*

  From the dark depths of the forest, figures appeared, as if formed from the leafy darkness. Almost human, they moved with a flowing grace, their eyes canted and gemlike, their features angular. Their expressions ranged from oddly unreadable to concerned to outright angry. Apparently, they chose direct khohlar aimed only at Tem’aree’ay. She tipped her head, as if listening to several conversations at once, and she did not move. She held the dagger aloft in a steady hand while Ivana twisted to watch the newcomers.

  Ra-khir had a good idea what messages they sent, searing reminders of what her simple words truly entailed. If Tem’aree’ay died of self-inflicted wounds, her elfin soul would perish with her, leaving a permanent hole. The elves could not allow that.

  Tem’aree’ay answered so everyone could hear. *If I took the life of my own daughter, I could not continue living, no matter the cost. It is what needs to be done.* The dagger descended toward Ivana’s throat.

  Ra-khir knew Marisole also would not allow it. He stepped directly into her path, trying to make his positioning appear casual and accidental.

  The bard’s heir sprang forward, crashing into Ra-khir’s solid form. Impact barely budged the well-muscled knight, but it sent Marisole staggering wildly backward. By the time she regained her balance, an
elf had slipped in to catch Tem’aree’ay’s wrist. Sporting short red hair and blazing amber eyes, the male elf placed his body between Tem’aree’ay and her offspring. He spoke aloud, in common tongue, “You can’t do that!”

  Tem’aree’ay looked all innocence. “What choice do I have?”

  The elf plucked the dagger from Tem’aree’ay’s fingers. “Let one of the humans handle the abomination.” He glanced around, then tossed the knife toward Ra-khir.

  There was no malice in the gesture. The knife sailed in a harmless arc, and Ra-khir backstepped to avoid an accidental stabbing. Quick as poured water, Calistin was there, snatching the weapon from the air.

  “Humans don’t take the lives of innocent young women.” The Renshai fairly growled. His head lowered in threat, and he focused intently on the elf. “And if you insist on hurling weapons, you had best prepare for battle.”

  Ra-khir touched Calistin’s arm, a plea for restraint.

  “Even the king of Béarn could not command me to murder a princess of the realm.” It was not entirely true, but he did not want to go into a long-winded, detailed explanation. Ra-khir could never imagine a king chosen by the Pica Stone demanding such a thing. If it ever happened, it would pit his sworn devotion to the crown against his internal morality. Ultimately, such a thing would never happen by his hand.

  Neither, he knew, would the elves do it, which was why he had prevented Marisole from interfering. Te’maree’ay, he felt certain, would never harm a hair on Ivana’s bulbous head. Living among humans had taught her how to bluff, and she was playing her own people with a competence only an elf experienced with human tactics could.

  Marisole picked herself off the ground, rearranging her gear.

  Ivana swung her legs around to a sitting position. She seemed not to notice the drama unfolding around her, oblivious to the discussion of her fate. She studied the edge of the forest, pointing toward where the elves had appeared.

  “Elves,” Tem’aree’ay explained patiently, tapping her fists together in an exaggerated gesture. “Elves.” She repeated the gesture.

  Ivana tapped her own fists, then pointed again.

  Tem’aree’ay had the elves’ attention, and she took advantage of it. *Ivana Shorith’na Cha-tella Tir Hya’sellirian Albar is not the abomination you name her. She has done no harm to anyone; cruelty is not in her nature. She learns slowly, yes; but she advances. She can and does achieve, has skills she can contribute.*

  A different elf stepped from the shadows, far more human in appearance than the one who had stopped the sacrifice. Softer-featured with auburn ringlets falling around a dress of leaves, she studied Tem’aree’ay through nearly level blue-green eyes. She asked the question on almost every mind, whether elfin or human. *What can this thing possibly contribute?*

  Tem’aree’ay almost smiled. “She has joined two jovinay arythanik, for starters. I believe her capable of so much more, once we cure her khohlar deafness.”

  Another elf stepped up beside the first.

  Ivana made a gurgling sound, raised her hands, and banged her fisted fingers together.

  Tem’aree’ay patted her head. “Yes, Ivana, elves.” She copied the gesture Ivana had made.

  More elves poked their heads out, as they had once before.

  Ra-khir moved away, drawing Calistin with him. With the ocean behind him, he could not afford to retreat much farther, but he wanted to give the elves as much space as possible. Calistin handed Ra-khir his dagger, which the knight quickly sheathed.

  Tem’aree’ay responded to something sent to her alone. *Jovinay arythanik does require at least three elves. Our third was a magical human.*

  Ivana seized her mother’s skirts and rose awkwardly to her feet.

  Again, Tem’aree’ay gave an answer to an unheard question. *Apparently, at least one exists. She’s secretive; but there is precedent. Some rare humans did have the capacity to shape chaos.*

  *And you managed a jovinay arythanik together?* The elfin voice sounded intrigued. He used indirect khohlar, as Tem’aree’ay was doing, so, this time, everyone could hear.

  *We bound our magic in order to negate the chaos of a hostile giant. It required all three of us. Not a classical jovinay arythanik, but I’ve since discovered Ivana Shorith’na Cha-tella Tir Hya’sellirian Albar can join one of those as well. Arak’bar Tulamii Dhor came to Béarn for other business, and we managed to scry Nualfheim with her help and the Pica Stone.*

  Murmurs swept the elves. More made themselves visible, dappled by the shadows of trees and brush.

  *What about this deafness you speak of? Even animals hear khohlar.*

  *There appears to be a blockage of some sort. Flimsy according to one who knows these things.*

  *Who?* The query came from many directions at once, and even Ra-khir might have sent it if humans had any ability to do so.

  Tem’aree’ay dodged the question. *I’m asking you to examine her, to heal what can be fixed, and to understand what she is and what she can become.*

  *No!* The response came almost too quickly, with emphasis that made it feel like shouting. *We know what she is: Frey’s penance for interbreeding with humans. She’s an abomination, anathema, and can do nothing other than bring the gods’ wrath down upon us.*

  Ra-khir cringed. He doubted any human mother would put up with similar attacks against her offspring. Tem’aree’ay seemed to have boundless tolerance.

  *If that’s so,* Tem’aree’ay sent, *then what harm can it do to examine her? Surely, the gods would want us to look upon what they have wrought, to learn from it.*

  *Go away,* the elf said. *And take that thing with you.*

  Tem’aree’ay raised her head. *So, it’s come to this? I’m no longer welcome among my own people?*

  A different mind-voice said, *You’re always welcome, Tem’aree’ay Donnev’ra Amal’yah Krish-anda Mal-satorian. Just, please, don’t bring the ivana with you.*

  Tem’aree’ay turned away and spoke to Ra-khir. “My people have become fools.”

  Ra-khir acknowledged the words with a masterful bow. “My lady, would you mind if I raised the king’s business while we still have their attention?”

  Tem’aree’ay gestured toward the forest. “I only wish you better luck than I have had.”

  Ra-khir doubted it, but he had to try. He cleared his throat and faced the elves, catching the twinkling green-eyed gaze of the middlemost one. “Good neighbors, we have called upon you for another reason. I hope you will find it in your hearts to listen.”

  The elves murmured amongst themselves, probably sent some direct khohlar, but they did not leave.

  Encouraged, Ra-khir continued. “Something enormous threatens our entire world and every intelligent creature in it. Magical warrior giants are coming from across the sea with the intent of killing us all and taking our land for themselves.”

  Silence followed Ra-khir’s proclamation. The elves stared, obviously waiting for more.

  Realizing he had not yet asked anything of them, Ra-khir continued, “We have already fought a battle against their much smaller, nonmagical servants led by a single giant. It took the massed armies of all human societies to repel these servants, and we defeated the giant only because of the jovinay arythanik of Tem’aree’ay, Ivana, and the magical human combined with the skill of our finest swordsmen.”

  Still, the elves remained in a hush. This was not the first time humans had requested the elves’ support in this matter. They had to know what Ra-khir wanted. Still, they waited for him to direct a question.

  Ra-khir obliged. “The next wave will surely consist of multiple giants, perhaps a vast army of magical warriors. It took all the skills of our three wielders of magic to defeat one of these giants. To have any chance against this new army, we need your assistance. Without it, all of humankind is doomed.”

  Even then, the elves sta
red, seeming to see no reason to speak.

  Finally, Ra-khir asked the necessary question. “Will you help us?”

  Several elfin mind-voices popped in then. Though in nothing close to unison, they all gave the same answer. *No!*

  The finality of their responses surprised Ra-khir into silence, which opened the way for Valr Magnus to speak.

  “So you would watch us all die. And feel nothing for our plight.”

  One elf took over for the group, *We would feel badly for you. We’re not made of stone.*

  Still speechless, Ra-khir allowed Magnus to take over. “But you would not come to our aid. You would allow these giants to slaughter us?”

  *We would not assist them,* one elf pointed out.

  “And when they come for you next,” Magnus said. “Would you let them slaughter all of you as well?”

  More murmers, then, *Of course not. We would create a portal and leave for another world.*

  “So you would run?” Calistin said incredulously.

  Ra-khir grabbed his son’s arm before he could condemn their cowardice. “I’ve been to some of those other worlds. I’ve yet to find one nearly as welcoming as the one we currently inhabit. In fact, most are downright dangerous: spirit spiders, monsters, demons, fire, and ice. Worlds ruled by gods intolerant of intrusion. Even the ones that, at first, seem safe hide dangers that would destroy the unwary. I’m sure benign worlds do exist, but you’ll lose a few elves finding them, their souls gone for eternity.”

  The elves took a few moments to digest Ra-khir’s words. They knew he had traveled; their magic had sent him to and from those worlds, accompanied by two of their own.