“Greetings, Daric,” Gaiden said, rising from the dais and bowing to the four travellers. He seemed thinner, Daric thought, and his grey coat looked dull.
Gaiden went on, “It is good to see you. I’m just sorry our reunion comes on the heels of such dire news. Have you heard anything from your Mairi? Is she hurt? Are there demands for her release?”
Daric blinked at the last question. He had not considered that; Did Breen have any demands? He had to smile at his stupidity. Why had he not asked? He could have Mairi back already.
Doubtful, he told himself. Whatever the man wants, it is likely nothing I can give.
“I have not heard from her, no,” Daric said. “But the palace secretary she was travelling with and another woman were seen early this morning. They appear unharmed.”
Gaiden nodded. “That is good news,” he said. “Takes a little of the urgency out of the proceedings.”
“Does it?” Daric said, frowning. Just how much had Aleria told them? “She is a prisoner, Gaiden. At any moment, Breen could decide she is more trouble than she is worth. Demands or not, he is a sly devil; if he thinks hurting her will help his cause, he will do it. I must get her out of there.”
“Yes, of course,” Gaiden said. “But as of yet, he has done her no physical harm. Time enough for other options. Have you thought of the witches? Maybe Elucia could put pressure on him to release his hostages. I understand there is more than your wife involved. What of this Odaman character? Is he not a king’s man? Won’t His Majesty lend a hand?”
Daric felt the tingle of frustration roll up his spine. He would have expected better of the wolves; Gaiden was talking like a court adviser, turning Mairi’s kidnap into a political event. Did he not understand just how strangely Lord Breen had been acting of late?
“As you say, Gaiden, Lord Breen has made no demands. Which either means he wants nothing from us, or he is biding his time, waiting on some other plan before parading his hostages. As for contacting Vierdan, treating with the palace will up the stakes. I was hoping to do this quietly.”
Gaiden made a wolf grin. “Quietly? With three hundred wolves?”
Daric glanced over at Gyna. She was standing by the lier’sinn, talking to a pale young woman Daric did not recognise – another witch, no doubt, likely one of the Lebarans. Daric wondered why she was there, then remembered, using the lier’sinn properly required someone with the Voice; she was likely there at the king’s request. Which made Daric wonder, were there witches all over Aleras?
He ignored the thought.
He was going to signal to Gyna for a little help, but she was not even looking at him, never mind listening to what Gaiden had said.
She’s as bad as Aleria, Daric thought. Always working on her own agenda.
“I doubt we will need three hundred,” Daric told the old wolf. “A show of strength is what’s needed here; enough to make Breen balance the weight of the hostages against his potential losses. It might not even come to a fight.”
Gaiden glanced to his left, seemingly asking a question with his gaze.
Arthben, the second of the elder wolves, was shaking his head. “It isn’t that we don’t want to help, Daric,” he said, “but we have the Karakin to consider. These are dangerous times, and many of our young are to the south, guarding the canyon with our Darkin brothers. In aiding you, we open ourselves to attack.”
Well, that explains why it is so quiet around here. But guarding the canyon? Why would they be guarding the canyon?
Daric decided that was a question for later; the elders were already trying to change the subject. “You need not fear the Karakin,” he told them. “At least not yet. They are stuck on Bly with no way of crossing the Hidden Sea.”
Again, Gaiden glanced to his left. Then he said, “Ten minutes ago, you were in Whitecliff; now here you are, standing in the Hall of Wolves. Who’s to say the Karakin do not have similar means of transporting themselves?”
“As I understand it,” Daric said, “the Karakin cannot use portals, least not the way we use them. The White Dragon will not allow them passage through Arenthenia.”
He looked to Gyna for confirmation, and she nodded.
Gyna stepped toward the dais, “And few are powerful enough to create a portal which would cross an ocean, particularly not one large enough to carry so many. My guess, if they had such an ability, they would have left already, which means they are stuck there.”
“I thought there were tunnels?” Gaiden said.
“They were flooded a century ago,” Gyna said. “Orki saw to that when she broke the seals.”
Gaiden nodded. He glanced at Arthben, then nodded at Ishban. Daric thought they were going to agree to his plan, but instead, the wolf said, “Would you give us a minute? We have to discuss your request.”
Daric pushed down a flush of disappointment. He bowed gravely. “Of course, we will leave you to talk.”
At that, Sarai gestured Daric and the others toward the kitchen.
“I never did like politics,” Nana said. She sat at the long table and started rubbing the back of her neck. “All this talking gives me a headache.”
Daric had to laugh. “Talking? You didn’t say anything.”
“All right, all this listening.”
“Would everyone like tea?” Sarai said. “I have cake, lemon or honey cake, would you like some?”
“Just the tea for me, please,” Daric said.
“I’ll have some cake,” Cal said, and Gyna nodded.
“And you, miss… err?”
“I’m sorry,” Daric said. “I haven’t introduced you, have I? This is Nana Duran, one-time Toyan militia. I think you know Cal. And this is Gyna Dovani, one of the Circle of Twelve.”
“Oh, an Eiras Witch? How wonderful. Malani has been telling me all about the Blue Tower.”
“Has she indeed,” Gyna said.
“Who is Malani?” Daric asked.
“An initiate,” Gyna said. “Evin suggested we create a lier’sinn network across central Aleras. Malani was sent here to cover Illeas’den and Be’olyn. She wasn’t sent to talk about the tower.”
“Be’olyn?” Daric said. “I thought that place was full of thieves?”
“It was,” Gyna agreed. “Since the invasion, and Turasan’s attempt to steel aorand fruit from Crenach to give to his troopers, it has become something of a stronghold. These days, there are more Cren and Darkin there than humans. I hear it has become quite the desirable locale.”
Daric sniggered. “I doubt that. Unless they have rebuilt; Be’olyn has always been a hole. The thieves and cutpurses might have moved away, but I’ll bet they have not gone far.”
“Moved south, I hear,” Gyna added.
Sarai put a steaming pot of tea on the table and laid out two trays of brightly coloured cakes. Gyna helped herself, but Nana, looking a little sick, waiting for the Rukin to pour the tea. Maybe she did not like Traveling either, Daric mused.
Now Gyna had her mouth full, Daric turned to Cal. “And is that why the Rukin have gone south?” he asked. “Have all the Be’olyn undesirables moved to the canyon?”
Cal shrugged. “I know no more than you. But I doubt it; I can’t imagine the Darkin asking for help over a few dozen thieves.”
“Then what do you think is going on down there?” Daric asked.
Over the centuries, the Eurmac Canyon had been the site of many a battle. From southerners trying to get a foothold in Aleras to tribal leaders wanting to expand their territory. It had been quiet since the Ulroch war, but Daric was not surprised someone would take advantage of the upheaval and attempt to annex the quarries – the canyon was Moyathair’s best source of fine stone; that, and the odd vein of copper.
Again, Cal shrugged. “Can’t be a raid, there are no towns around the canyon. It’s likely a smuggling racket, something that would need a lot of folk spread over a wide area. I’ll bet some Eurmacian lord has started a trade in aorand.”
Daric shook his head. “That ag
ain. You would think they had learned their lesson.”
Cal swallowed a mouthful of cake. “Greed has a short memory, my friend. I doubt they will recall we fought a war over control of the canyon not a hundred years ago.”
Daric had to chuckle. “For a human, a hundred years is a long time. And as you say, greed has a short memory. Still, I’m surprised anyone would want to buy such a foul fruit.”
He remembered when Cal had given one of the tiny apple-like fruits to Elspeth on the evening they had first travelled to Brae’vis. Daric had tried a little nibble of the fruit. It had tasted like lemon mixed with vinegar. It had worked, though. Despite having run all day, Elspeth kept up with them as they marched to the Cren village. It’s restorative properties were why the fruit was so highly regarded among mercenaries and certain military men. Unfortunately, while it was useful as a tonic – banishing tiredness and increasing aggression – it was also poisonous to anyone smaller than a woodsman – which was just about every human north of Lop.
Cal grinned. He looked at the cake in his huge hand. “Like cooking apples, it’s not so bad in a pie.”
“A whole pie full of aorand?” Daric said, incredulous. “And you eat that?”
“To us, it is just a fruit. It’s you little folk who make all the fuss.”
Daric might have said something about that claim, but Nana interrupted, “Can we stop talking about food? I do not feel well.”
Sarai immediately rushed to Nana’s side. Hand on the Toyan’s forehead, she said, “You have a fever, child. And a bad one.” She looked into Nana’s eyes, pulling down the lids and scrutinizing the whites, then felt under Nana’s jaw.
“This is no bad fish or over-ripe berry,” Sarai said, turning to Daric. “She is very ill. Anyone else in your party come over sick?”
Daric sat up. Now she mentioned it, Nana did look more than a little pale. A sheen of sweat covered her face, and her eyes were yellow.
“No,” he said. “At least, I don’t think so. Why?”
“If it were in the air or the water,” Sarai said, “then you would have more than the one sick young lady on your hands. As she is the only one who is ill, I would say she has caught a bad chill, doubtless from sleeping out in all weathers. She needs rest. I suggest you leave her here for a few days.”
Daric nodded, but could not hide his disappointment. After Gyna, Nana was his best fighter. She would be missed, should things turn ugly over at the manor house.
Nana picked up her cup. Her hand shook, but she made light of it. “I will be fine,” she said. “Just need some hot food. Living on warm rabbit stew and roots has left me weak.”
“I just offered you hot food,” Sarai said. “You said you did not want any. In fact, you told us to stop talking about food.” She glanced at Daric, then whispered something in Nana’s ear.
“No, not this week,” Nana said.
“Then you have a chill,” Sarai declared. “I insist you stay here for a few days. Lanay!” She called through to the room next to the kitchen.
Lana put her head around the door, beamed a big smile at everyone, exclaimed pleasure at seeing her “old friends”, then looked expectantly at Sarai.
“Can you make some chicken broth for our young friend?” Sarai asked the cook. Nana raised a hand to protest, but Sarai spoke right over her, “And ask Lorne to make up a room. The one closest the baths, please; she will need a good hot soaking to sweat out her fever.”
Once again, Nana tried to protest.
“Rest easy, Captain,” Daric said. “I have a feeling numbers won’t solve our quarrel with Breen. You can sit this one out.”
“Just give me an hour,” Nana said. “It’s just a flush. It’s hot in here. I’ll be fine after a lie down.”
“No you will not, young lady,” Sarai said. “One does not get a fever like that from a hot flush. Now, I will hear no more of your foolishness. I have heard about you Toyans, all pride and bluster. Well, you can just do as you are told.”
Nana shot Daric a pleading gaze. She looked like a deer surprised by a bear.
Daric shook his head. “I think you should listen to her. Stay here, get better.”
Nana gave a long sigh, “If you insist,” she croaked. Then, quietly, so only Daric could hear, she added, “I must talk to you before you go. There’s something you should know about Ally.”
Daric was posed to ask what she meant by that, but there was a knock at the kitchen door. A man Daric recognised as Olec stuck his head in. “They are ready for you,” is all the librarian said. Then he disappeared, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll come find you when we are done,” Daric told Nana.
“She will be in a hot bath,” Sarai said, “you will have to wait.”
“Then I will wait,” Daric said, and Nana gave him a nod.
What could she mean? What was so interesting about this Ally woman that Nana would keep it a secret? Daric cursed all his mounting questions, then followed Cal to the big hall.
* * *
“I am afraid, the best we can offer is to lend our weight to your argument,” Gaiden said. “I propose Ishban and I return with you to Whitecliff. Maybe you are right, and our presence in your party will persuade Breen to do what is best. But as for a show of strength, we cannot help. Trapped on Bly or not, we will not leave Illeas’den defenceless against the Karakin.” s an aside, he added, “You do know they will likely attack us first? Our old battle brothers will expect our loyalty, and when we do not give it, their rage will fall on Illeas’den like a winter storm.”
Daric had opened his mouth to say something, but that last revelation stumped him – The Karakin expect the wolves to fight at their side?
Could they do that? Was the connection to the old battle brother alliance so strong the Karakin could force loyalty on the other wolves?
If that were true, it would not be the strangest thing Daric had heard over the past eight months. He remembered something Alacin had said about the time, eight hundred years ago, when the Cren had somehow taught the wolves to talk. What had he called it? The Enlightenment? Could that interference have formed a bond? The thought gave Daric a chill. There were well over ten thousand wolves in Aleras, and never mind the Darkin wolves of Crenach’coi. With those huge, horse-sized wolves on their side, the Karakin would be all but unstoppable.
“Perhaps you should all go south,” Daric said. “Move to the woodlands. I’m sure the Cren would welcome you.”
Gaiden let his lip curl back from his teeth. For an old wolf, he could still muster a fearsome look when he wanted to. “I will not leave my home,” he said.
Daric noticed none of the other elders nodded their agreement. Like as not, they had already thought of evacuating the village, and Gaiden clearly had not favoured the idea.
Of a sudden, Daric could not meet the old wolf’s eyes. All this strife and worry, and here he was asking for their help. He had been disappointed at the old wolf’s offer, but did he have a right to ask for more? Daric did not think so. He would have to make do with Gaiden and Ishban, and hope it was enough to force Lord Breen’s hand.
“I understand,” Daric said, bowing to the wolf. “And thank you for your offer. You honour me.”
Gaiden raised a brow. He had clearly not expected such courtesy. More likely, he would have thought Daric upset at the proposal. The old wolf glanced at the other elders. They seemed surprised, too. Had the offer been a bargaining point? Could Daric have asked for more?
Too late now, he told himself. You’ve already made that bed, Daric.
Gaiden stood. He stepped off the dais and walked to Daric’s side. “I suggest we all rest,” he said. “I will have Sarai wake you before dawn. If we are going to do this, best approach during the day. I would not want Breen’s men confusing us with an attacking force. Once there, I will send a message, ask for an audience. It will sound better coming from me – more unexpected, and he will have no doubt of our intent. It will give him time to think. If you are right,
if he decides the scales fall in our favour, he will likely want to make a show of his benevolence. Best we give him time to do that.”
Daric nodded. “A wise thought,” he said. “Better that than show up on his doorstep with demands. Let him save face.”
It was a risky plan, Daric knew, but if Breen was going to give up his hostages, best it was done on his own terms. After what that fool Yosil had done, Daric had no doubt Mairi and the other hostages were at the manor, right where His Lordship could lay hands on them – best they avoided a fight.
Yes, he would go along with the old wolf’s idea. Risky or not, it was better than the alternative.
“As you say,” Gaiden said. He turned his head and gave a nod to Olec. “You’ll have to excuse me; if I’m too leave in the morning, there is some housekeeping I must attend to.”
Daric bowed, and Gaiden followed the librarian to the corridor which ran deeper into the halls.
“What do you think?” Gyna said.
Daric shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think; it is all we’ve got. Either it will work, or it won’t.”
“That’s hardly the positive attitude I would expect from you, Daric.”
Daric laughed. “Positive? Right now, I would settle for vaguely optimistic.”
* * *
As dark skinned as she was, Nana looked pale. She raised a hand to Daric, warning him off.
“Don’t get too close,” she said.
Daric sat on the chair at the foot of the bed. The brazier was burning, and the room was warm. Daric immediately felt sweat bloom across his forehead. Despite all the heat, Sarai had covered Nana with at least four blankets. She looked like a turtle – a sickly, pale turtle.
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked. It was a stupid question; of course she was not feeling better. He pulled the chair up a little, so he could see Nana’s face. She gave him a weak grin. “Can I get you anything? Water? More soup?”
“No,” Nana whispered. “I just want to sleep.”
Daric nodded. He told her what he and Gaiden had decided, then suggested he come back later.
The Ship of Tears: (The Legend of the Nine: Part One) (The Eastern Kingdom Chronicles Book 8) Page 35