The Coming Storm

by Valerie Douglas

  Even so, there was a protocol to such things. At least a modicum of formality.

  “I regret to inform you your father has disowned you.”

  Ailith just stared.

  At first, the words made no sense.

  Daran had already turned away, gone back to brooding over the map when what he’d said penetrated. It took her breath away. It was as if she’d been struck, the shock of it rocked her. For a moment she could only stand, motionless, trying to encompass the reality of it.

  It didn’t seem real.

  Jareth heard the words as something meaningless and then meaning took hold. He swore softly under his breath as his heart twisted, sank. Disowned. He closed his eyes in dismay and sorrow, in a grief and pain nearly as great as Ailith’s own. No home or family, everything, gone forever. The woman who had owned Westin’s Hall, so much more a ruler than he who ruled there would never be.

  He didn’t want to believe it, yet Daran’s dismissiveness spoke volumes. Ailith of Riverford was no longer important to him.

  It was bitter, all the more so for the memory of how regal she’d looked in the Westin’s Hall that day. For all she hated the formalities, hated the titles, she’d been meant to lead.

  Disowned. It wasn’t a term Elon knew. That Jareth was swearing beneath his breath so forcefully told him much, though. Ailith’s face even more so.

  Something important had happened here.

  Her expression was still but by the stunned look in her eyes and what trembled through the bond he knew she’d been shaken badly.

  Oddly, Ailith found she was surprised by it and she didn’t know why, she should have expected it. It was so obviously the next move. Yet she’d assumed for so long Riverford would be hers it never occurred to her that her father’s ensorcellment would change that. It hurt. It hurt so much more than she could have imagined. It was as if some essential part of her, some part of her identity, had been ripped away. She understood now, far better, how Elon, Colath and Jalila felt about Aerilann.

  “When?” she asked, flatly. For some reason she needed to know, had to know.

  Surprised at the interruption, Daran glanced up with an irritated frown. The matter was done, what mattered when it had been done?

  “A week ago,” Daran said.

  To his surprise she seemed to be taking it well. He’d expected some weeping and wailing but she might have been Elven herself for all it showed.

  Ah, Tolan, Ailith thought. Plotting again.

  That would have been just before he’d taken Elon and Colath. Once, Tolan had been a man. He would have known what the news would mean to her. It would have been a devastating blow, then, too. He’d wanted her shaken, shattered, when he took them. Word had just not reached her.

  Until now.

  Elon, Colath and Jalila all gave her questioning looks. Elon’s dark eyes were worried. It was clear they didn’t know what such a thing meant. It would be inconceivable among their folk. It couldn’t happen. She knew that. What was it Talesin had said of Mornith, that he was the only Elf ever banished? She could see as well that Daran High King neither knew nor cared that they didn’t understand. He wouldn’t explain and Jareth was clearly at a loss. It fell to her, then, to tell them.

  She’d always understood some small fraction of the bond that held Elves to their Enclave, for she felt that way about Riverford. It was more than home. It was her place. It was the green rolling hills, the sharp chill of the water in her little eddy of the great river, it was the roar of the cataract to the north as it burst out of the Dwarven lands. It was the great slope of steep hills that led up into the highlands.

  Her heart twisted. Not hers. Not anymore.

  She looked at them, her friends, part of her heart. How to tell them?

  “My father has separated me from my family. I’m no longer considered a part of that blood-line. I will never rule at Riverford.”

  Somehow it made it more real to say it, to state it so baldly.

  It felt as if a part of her soul was torn.

  Elon tried to make sense of it. It was incomprehensible. Nearly as incomprehensible as the idea of Elf killing Elf. No longer a part of the blood line? No longer of Riverford? How? Until he’d learned of Mornith, it wasn’t something he’d considered possible among Elves but as it applied to men?

  There was no blood on her hands, for what was she being punished?

  No home, no family, no place to belong as he belonged at Aerilann.

  It pierced his heart, as the thought of such a thing would and should. Never to rule at Riverford? Ailith? No Queen to be, to govern as he did, as a First among Equals? She who understood the forms of the race of man as she’d shown so well in Westin’s Hall. Never that woman who’d stood so regal and so proud there? Never the one whom Catra had spoken of with such admiration when she’d told him how Ailith had roused the garrison there?

  This one, his Ailith, stood as calmly and coolly as any of their folk, never showing how shattered she was, though he could feel it echo through the bond.

  It took only a moment for Elon understood now why the timing had been important to her.

  This was Tolan’s work, done before Tolan had ordered he and Colath taken. It was a masterful move. Tolan had wanted to hurt her before he’d done that, had assumed he had. Only the timing had been off. He thought of how Tolan had referred to her as ‘little Ailith’, diminishing her. She hadn’t known, though. And he hadn’t known her. Hadn’t known the woman who stood here now, pale but composed. She would have done their people proud.

  Colath took a sharp intake of breath as the meaning of what she said penetrated, as he remembered how she’d looked when she had stepped into the anteroom of Westin’s Hall, so different from the one who had ridden an Elven-bred cull unbridled and unsaddled to warn them of treachery. He remembered teasing her about not looking like an Heir but she had then that day at Raven’s Nest. She’d looked every inch of it. This made no sense. Little as his folk loved killing, would they could have killed Tolan sooner.

  Elon started to say something but Ailith shook her head.

  She looked at him. Not here. Not now. It wasn’t the place for it.

  Taking another quick breath, she looked at Daran High King.

  “Then we can dispense with the title. I’ve never liked them much, in any case,” she said, keeping her voice as brisk as possible, so it wouldn’t show how short of breath she was. “My Lord High King Daran, tell me then, how can I serve you?”

  He looked her over, frowned, his sharp black eyes studied her. “What can you do? You’re barely past your majority.”

  Giving him a level look back, she said, “That may be but I can help you get this army to move. Give me a command. My father and I may have our differences but he raised me to it from the time I was still at his knee. I’ve studied tactics and battle, trained with the Hunters, fought boggins and boggarts, and at Raven’s Nest. That I can do.”

  Elon said, “She helped organize the relief of the forces at Raven’s Nest, Daran. The Captain of the garrison spoke very highly of her. I gave her command of my mission in the north. Not Jareth, not Jalila, although both are capable.” He gestured. “She brought them back.”

  Considering the half-witted second sons and daughters that commanded some of his forces, she seemed to have her wits about her at least, Daran noted. She’d also taken the news of her disinheritance like a trooper.

  Truth be told, he hadn’t liked Geric as much on this meeting as he had on those other rare occasions. Nor would he mind keeping Geric’s ex-heir close at hand, she might be useful in more ways than one.

  He nodded. “All right. Stay here. I need to talk to Elon, first.”

  Ailith nodded and stepped back.

  From the corner of her eye she saw Jareth give her a concerned look. It was a comfort to see it, even more of a comfort as Colath dropped a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his pale eyes to see the compassion there. It was an ease to share the ache in her heart.

&n
bsp; Put it aside for now, Elon told himself. There are things that must be done. The whole of the Kingdoms were at risk. There would be time later, hopefully, to deal with this, somehow.

  “All right, Daran, what have you done so far? Have you decided where your first and last line of defense is?”

  “Years of peace, Elon,” Daran reminded him sharply. “I haven’t needed to worry about that sort of thing since I had a garrison command. Then didn’t use it.”

  With an effort, Elon didn’t close his eyes in dismay. It was no surprise.

  In the end, his youth hadn’t shielded him completely from the Wizard Wars, nor should it have. He’d fought in his share of battles, both then and later, once the fragile peace afterward had been broken yet again as men forgot.

  After centuries of war with the borderland creatures, between men and Elf, between Elf and Dwarf, strategy and tactics were bred into his blood and bone. So many things led to one being named First among equals and not least of these was the innate knowledge of such things.

  Elon nodded. “You must pick where you will take the army and no farther, where you will fall back to and no farther.”

  This was the most basic strategy and tactics.

  “Where are your scouts?”

  Scouts? Daran ground his teeth. He hadn’t even thought about them.

  “I have no scouts.”

  No scouts. Elon shook his head in amazement.

  “Then how do you know what lies ahead of your army? How do you know where the enemy is? Where will you face them?”

  That hadn’t occurred to him either. Standing back, Daran stretched his back and shook his head in restless frustration.

  “I had enough trouble simply getting them organized and moving.”

  He gestured at the markers on the table. “This company moves – not quickly but at least it moves. These two, however, barely move at all. Of those behind it, none are better and some are worse.”

  It took only a moment for Elon to calculate how far they’d moved and how far they needed to.

  “The enemy should never be allowed to choose the ground on which you would fight,” he said, carefully. Especially not by default but that he did not say. “If you would win the battle, you must chose the ground on which you fight, then make certain that ground is favorable to you but not to them. “

  A glance at the map only confirmed his own thoughts.

  It would be a disaster.

  No scouts and no forward line. No information.

  This wouldn’t do, Ailith thought.

  In the back of her mind she heard Gwillim’s voice and the laughter in it even as he said the words – Never, never volunteer. Only a fool volunteered. He would shake his head at her if he knew what she was about to do. She could almost see his face. And the pride that would have been there on it when she did it anyway. It hurt to think of it. She was a fool. Even so, the army needed to move and soon.

  Elon needed information or he couldn’t tell Daran where to go.

  “With all due respect, Your Highness,” Ailith said, abruptly. “Which company would you like to move? Which commander can you remove the most expediently?”

  Fool or not, she understood how the Kingdoms worked.

  Daran wasn’t accustomed to this. It was the second time she’d interrupted him. There was no doubt now she was Riverford’s get. This small young woman was more frank than an Elf. He glanced at Elon quickly and speculatively. Small correction, almost more frank than an Elf, Elon had less…discretion…sometimes. He liked her wording. Expediently, indeed.

  “What do you have to lose, your Highness?” she said, softly.

  “All right,” Daran said, looking over the map, considering her words, then touched his finger to a marker. “That one.”

  Looking where he pointed, Ailith took a long breath and looked up in surprise.

  She raised an eyebrow, her eyes never leaving Daran’s. There was challenge there.

  Well, she’d asked for it. Now she had it.

  A coldness went over Elon as he saw where Daran would send her.

  The vanguard, the front lines.

  Ailith.

  His heart went still. Elon looked at her, at the steadiness of her gaze locked with Daran’s. She knew what it was she did, the truth of what they faced. In truth, he hadn’t needed to hear much more from Daran, what he saw on the map was more than enough.

  Daran wanted her to refuse it, Ailith could see it in his eyes. He almost dared her to refuse it with that look, he thought she was bluffing.

  “My Lord High King, if you doubt me, I’ll make you an offer,” Ailith added. “Give me the Hunters and the Woodsman, all of those with Elven-bred horses or culls and that company. Tomorrow afternoon I’ll have your army chasing me. By tomorrow evening you’ll have information. If I don’t, replace me.”

  Well, Daran thought, she hadn’t backed down, she’d taken the challenge. That was a surprise. He restrained himself from glancing at Elon. His pet Heir, now disowned, in the front lines. There was much to be gained, little to be lost, and a small slap on the wrist to Elon, did he but know it.

  She met his look. “You can’t do much worse.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Daran considered it. “What do you need?”

  “Two of your guard to evict the current commander and your warrant to do it so he believes I have the authority. I need a tent, as I have none of my own.“ A travel pack didn’t count. “Orders to have the Hunters and Woodsmen report to me immediately before sunset. Then tell me where you want that command to go.”

  With a sinking heart, Elon knew she was right, as much as it pained him to admit it and to put her at such risk. If they were to get this army to move, he needed a leader, an able commander he knew and trusted. People would follow Ailith, she’d already proven that. She would make decisions and do what needed to be done. He needed her there. One person besides Colath who he knew could lead. Unfortunately, few men would follow Colath, although they should, just because he wasn’t one of them. He might also need Colath to lead their own people, where he himself couldn’t. That was a last resort. Those Elon wouldn’t risk unless the need was dire.

  For all that Jareth was an old friend and an excellent wizard, he was also no warrior.

  That left only Ailith.

  Elon looked over the map quickly. Although he didn’t know all of the outer Kingdoms, he knew these lands well. Mentally, he went over the terrain. He wanted a channel, a funnel, as narrow a pass as could be found, where the enemy’s numbers would choke him. More, he wanted them running uphill, if possible, with impenetrable or nearly impenetrable terrain on each side so the Kingdom’s forces couldn’t be easily outflanked.

  There was such a place. Elon could see it in his mind’s eye from the time when he’d crisscrossed the Kingdom to build support for the Agreement.

  Were it not for the Dwarven Cavern nearby, it was very nearly perfect.

  Taking a breath, Elon pointed.

  “Here.”

  Colbreath.

  It was a natural funnel with the high stony country of the Dwarven lands to the east and a small mountain range to the west that stretched out from above Aerilann down to the upper heartlands. If they were going to stop them before they reached the heartlands themselves, they would have to stop them there.

  He raised his eyes to meet Ailith’s. Hers were steady as they met his but dark with pain, with loss.

  With a quick reassuring look to him, though, she nodded before she turned her gaze to Daran. She lifted her chin.

  Challenge met.

  Satisfaction bloomed deep and strong. However Daran looked at it, he won.

  She was young, yes, so they might not obey her. In which case, he’d simply name another commander and was still well rid of the first. If they did, though, how much more useless could she be then the worthless fop that had that command now? However, if she succeeded, the disowned Heir to a lesser Kingdom, it would shame the other commanders into besting her. Which suited him as w
ell. He wanted them shamed and brought to heel.

  If it was also a slap at Elon, to remind him who was High King here, so much the better.

  In either or any case, Daran couldn’t lose.

  “Guards.”

  He sent one running to summon the Hunters and Woodsmen. With a nod, he assigned the other two to her.

  Without daring to think too much about it, Ailith gave a quick look to Elon. His eyes were dark and nearly unreadable.

  Nearly.

  Her heart ached.

  The understanding and concern as she met Colath’s eyes helped steady her. There was worry for her there, too.

  Jalila’s dark eyes showed the same comprehension and concern.

  As hard as he tried, Jareth couldn’t tear his eyes away from the map and the small token at the forefront. The one that designated Ailith’s new command.

  It didn’t take a military genius to know how dangerous her position would be. A cold chill settled over him. He couldn’t credit it and so he didn’t see her look at him, nor did he see her leave.

  He just looked up and she was gone.

  Jareth looked at Elon. “Do you need me here?”

  He glanced toward the tent flap. There was someplace he was needed more. He would go with Ailith, since she would need his skills more there. In the vanguard.

  Trust Ailith, he thought, to go there, to the front lines.

  Elon looked at him. Another at the front. At least Ailith wouldn’t be alone and neither would Jareth.

  Thank you, old friend, Elon thought but didn’t say. If he had the chance, he would say it later. He shook his head.

  “Go.”

  Jalila looked at him, tilted her head in the same direction. Here, too. It was both a fear and a relief.

  Taking a breath, he nodded. If need be, Jalila would get to him from anywhere.

  Footsteps approached from outside. Daran gestured at another page, who scurried back into the depths of the royal tent.