Apparently he stank. Klöss could believe that easily enough. They’d been in the same clothes for weeks, rough sackcloth that had been crudely stitched into shape. It was so ingrained with dirt and sweat now that it had stopped scratching.
They marched him on, passing through passages that turned and twisted until he had no idea of the path they took, except that it was new to him. Finally they passed through a series of metal grates and into another passage. The light was brighter here with lamps on the walls here instead of the smoky torches. Wherever they were taking him it was outside of the cells and not to Rhenkin.
They passed up a staircases and into a richly appointed hallway. Twice startled servants skipped out of the way to let them through, staring after them with scandalised looks. They finally stopped at a door guarded by two men in armour. The men themselves were not large but one look at them told Klöss everything he needed to know. These men were not here to look imposing. They were here because they knew their jobs.
He shook the remains of water from his hair as his escorts had a brief, whispered conversation with the guards, the shorter guard glaring at him as the droplets spattered on his face as the other knocked. Klöss grinned at him once and they pushed him into the room.
A woman sat waiting for him. She sipped from a porcelain cup as she watched him come in, her fine gown at odds with the rough wooden table. Armed men stood behind her, almost hidden in the shadows as they stood against the wall. A glance at one face told him they were ready, and close enough, to prevent him doing any harm to her. Still, they were further away than they would have liked, that much was obvious. She was someone of importance then.
The room was mostly bare. Disused he decided as he looked around. The woman motioned for him to take a seat and he stepped towards the chair, looking around for Miriam. A figure peeled itself away from the wall, rushing towards him before being held back by a guard. She struggled and kicked at him, producing a muffled grunt as she twisted away.
Blonde hair flew as she shook her head and then looked at him with a smile. “Hello, rich boy.”
“Ylsriss!” he gasped, his poise gone. “What in the hells are you doing here?”
“Not the hells, Klöss.” She gave a sad smile as she shook her head. “Though it might as well have been.”
She glanced at the chains on his wrists and turned to the woman at the table, speaking quickly in Anlish before shaking her head violently and stabbing a finger at him. The guards took a step towards her as she slammed a hand down onto the table, her voice rising.
Through it all the red-haired woman remained calm and in control, speaking in a soft voice as Ylsriss raged at her. Klöss couldn’t understand the words but he’d seen her angry enough times to know that she was close to losing control completely. The woman peered around Ylsriss at him once and shrugged before looking back to her.
The guard wrestled with the lock on his manacles briefly and they fell clanking to the ground. Klöss rolled his shoulders and rubbed at the skin of his wrists as he looked at the tiny blonde woman. “Were you planning on telling me what the hell is going on?”
“This is Selena, queen of the Anlish,” Ylsriss said as she waved at the woman at the table. “I’ve had you freed, on the condition that you help us.”
He gaped at her for a moment “Us? How did you…?” he gave up as Ylsriss burst into laughter, pointing at his expression.
“It’s very simple, rich boy. They need me and I told her I wouldn’t help unless they free you. In a way you’re my price.”
“Was that price or prize?” Klöss muttered, trying to catch up.
She gave him a look that he’d missed for far too long. “Maybe both.”
Part Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Why am I doomed to be surrounded by an endless reunion?” Selena sighed to herself as the two Bjornmen babbled away at each other. She knew enough of their story to know this could go on for hours.
“Just tell him the bare bones, Ylsriss,” she said, interrupting them. “I need to talk to him.”
The blonde woman gave her a look that seemed to carry any number of curse words with it, but then nodded.
Selena sighed and turned around to one of the men behind her. “It’s Picking, isn’t it?”
“Pickering, your majesty,” the soldier said with a faint grimace.
She nodded, filing the name away. “Do you think you could send one of your men to fetch Rhenkin and the druid?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Here, your majesty?”
She looked around in mock surprise, as if just noticing the state of the room. “Oh, do you suppose we ought to clean it up for him first?” she asked, wide eyed. “Yes, here! If I can stomach it I’m sure they can find a way to manage!”
He set off at a run as she sipped at the tea,
“Does he know who I am?” Selena asked as Ylsriss turned to face her. She grunted her acknowledgement of the woman’s nod. “Rhenkin tells me that he is some kind of commander?”
“His name is Klöss,” Ylsriss grated, not bothering to soften her tone.
Selena sighed. This was clearly not going to be as easy as she’d thought. “Would you please ask Klöss exactly what his position is?”
Ylsriss narrowed her eyes and then, apparently unable to find anything wrong with the request, turned for a brief conversation.
“My name is, Klöss, Lord of Rimeheld and Shipmaster of the Thane of the Barren Isles,” Klöss told her through Ylsriss. “But then I’m sure your man, Rhenkin, already told you this.”
Selena nodded, smiling as Ylsriss relayed the message to her. “He did. As your wife?” she paused on the word, lifting her tone to make it a question before carrying on. “As Ylsriss informed you I now rule here in Anlan. It would seem to me that we have been given an opportunity here, one that is perhaps too great to pass over.”
“I don’t negotiate standing up,” Klöss told her, though Ylsriss failed to completely hide the smile as she spoke for him.
Selena didn’t bother to hide her own and turned to a guard, “Run along and fetch some more chairs would you?”
Klöss settled down into the plain wooden chair when it arrived and smiled. “You mentioned an opportunity?”
Selena shook her head. “I’m not a great one for playing games. I excel at it when the situation demands but I’ve rather come to believe that the time has come for some plain speaking, wouldn’t you agree?”
Klöss’s only response was a guarded nod.
“I’ll begin then,” Selena told him. “We could sit here for hours and talk about the Bjornmen invasion of my lands but that’s not why you came here. Frankly you’re no threat to me now. As a mere duchess I was unable to repel your people but as queen, with all the armies of Anlan behind me, I could drive your forces into the seas and burn your villages behind you.”
She waited as Ylsriss relayed that and held her hand up as his eyes widened and he started to speak. “I think though, that the fae pose a greater threat to both our nations than we could ever pose to each other. I've no intention of keeping you imprisoned or executing you. You're far more use to me alive than dead. It is the threat from the fae that I wish to speak about. What would you say to a temporary truce? An accord by which we agree to work together against these creatures?”
Klöss leaned in, clasping his hands on the table that stood between them. Selena sensed, rather than saw, the hands that tightened around sword hilts behind her and she took a deep breath as the man began to speak. “You’re right, Queen, I didn’t come to talk about our battles. I do not know how much authority I still have,” Klöss admitted. “As I told your man Rhenkin the sealord has taken direct control of this conflict but I think your plan is a good one. With as much authority as I have left I will support you against these creatures. The issues we have between our peoples we can discuss later. These keiju… These…fae, as you call them. I think you are right, they are the greater enemy…” he broke off, shaking his head.
“It began as skirmishes, attacks that came out of nowhere and left too few behind to bring the news. Then they began attacking our villages, emptying entire settlements and leaving the bodies behind to rot. I’ve seen these creatures, seen a horde large enough to give an entire fleet of men pause.” He stopped as the doors opened and Rhenkin and Obair filed in, followed by men bringing more chairs and servants with refreshments.
“Your majesty,” the druid gave a passable bow. “I thought it might be an idea to bring Joran along. We have a great deal to discuss and neither Ylsriss nor Joran would be able to contribute much if they’re constantly translating.”
The man, she’d noticed, was possessed of uncommonly good sense at times. “Very well.” She looked around at the faces about them. “Shall we discuss what we can do against the fae?”
***
The woods were close to the walls of Druel, reaching out towards the town from the edges of the hills. Selena glanced up at the moon and glanced over at Obair with a raised eyebrow.
He shrugged in response to her unasked question. “All we can do is wait, I’m afraid.” Behind him Rhenkin muttered instructions to his men and fingered his own bared sword.
The breeze was light but carried the bitter promise of winter with it. It cut through Selena's cloak and clothes as easily as any knife might and she shivered, pulling the cloak tighter around herself as she glanced around at the others. Nerves showed on their faces and in the way they fidgeted. Of them all, only Miriam and Joran seemed unconcerned.
Rhenkin had picked the place well. Whilst the trees would provide cover for the creature should she try to flee they were positioned some distance from the edge of the trees and Rhenkin’s men all carried ironhead arrows for their bows.
Devin sniffed and stiffened, turning to point out the figure that stepped out from the darkness between the moonlit elms. Selena followed his finger to the shadow making its way out of the woods. She moved with the casual grace so common to dancers and acrobats yet there was something feline about her. There was a beauty to her that went beyond her features and her form. She was a thing of wonder, a myth made flesh. She was glorious.
Selena shook her head, biting hard on her tongue as she fought to chase away the sense of wonder. Even though she’d been warned about this it was one thing to hear about it and quite another to experience it.
Dimly Selena was aware of the men behind her drawing bowstrings back as the creature stopped, cocking her head to one side as she looked at them curiously for a moment before searching the group with her odd eyes.
“I would speak with you, Wyrdeweaver,” she said to Obair, her accent alien but yet somehow formal. “Have your manlings put away their fehru. You have no threat from me.”
Obair cleared his throat as he came to stand beside Selena. “I find that hard to believe.”
She shrugged, a picture of indifference. “Believe what you will, manling. If I wished you harm your arrows and blades would be of little use, fehru or no.”
He glanced back at Selena and Rhenkin with a worried frown. “Ahh…”
Miriam pushed past him with a frustrated sigh. “You set me on this path, Aervern. You sent me to find these Wyrdeweavers. Let’s not waste time posturing, I’m too old for this foolishness.”
The fae nodded soberly. “There is a wisdom in your words.”
Selena pushed forward, clearly if anything was to be achieved here, she would have to do it herself. “What do you want with us?” She cringed inwardly as the creature’s glowing eyes turned to her, appraising her for a moment before it spoke.
“The Wyrde has stood for untold ages, locking those that would hunt away from both this land and my own. Their return has not proven to be all I would have wished,” Aervern told her.
“Your kind has slaughtered thousands of my people,” Selena grated, “forgive me if I find it hard to sympathise with you.”
“Your people?” The fae put a peculiar emphasis on the words, cocking her head. “Can a manling own others of its own kind?”
“I am queen here in Anlan,” Selena replied, unabashed. “The people of Kavtrin and Carik’s Fort that you fae slaughtered for your amusement were my people.”
“You are manlings, we fae.” Aervern shrugged. “Tales tell that the hunt was ever the way of things.” She pushed on before Selena could speak. “Those that have returned, however, would move beyond the hunt. They seek to take this world for their own. Understand, Queen, that this land belongs to the fae far more than it ever has to your people. Your kind fled here, stealing that which was promised us. Aelthen would punish you for this. He would drive each and every one of you before him with a lash until you collapsed to the dirt if he could. He no longer is content with a mere hunt but has raised banners that have not been seen in countless ages. He would set the fae to war, to purge this world of your kind until only a handful remain.”
“And you just want to help us out of the kindness of your heart?” Devin called out.
The fae glanced at him, a dismissive look that said far more than words could hope to. Her gaze lingered though, and she frowned at him for a moment before turning her gaze back to Selena. “You know nothing of my kind, of my world. My reasons are my own, take my aid or spurn it at your peril.”
“What exactly is it you propose?” Selena asked.
“The Wyrde held our worlds apart for thousands of years,” Aervern said, speaking softly. “Now that it has fallen our worlds touch once more. Better that it had never fallen.” She looked past Selena, pausing for a moment on Devin as she sought out Obair’s eyes. “Better that it was remade.”
Selena followed her gaze. “Can you do that, Obair?”
“Perhaps,” the old man said, looking troubled. “The knowledge is locked in the stones at the Withengate, though it nearly killed Devin the last time he reached for it.”
“Aervern!” Joran blurted out.
Aervern smiled at the young man. “Yes, my sweet?”
He flushed as all eyes turned to him, frowns asking questions. “No, I mean Aervern could power the glyphs. It would be just like giving power to a moonorb, there would be no need for Devin to do anything.”
“I think you’re forgetting the small matter of an army of fae between here and Widdengate,” Selena put in. “It’s not a simple matter of strolling across open country.”
“The girl, Erinn, had some ideas about that, your majesty.” Rhenkin put in. “Things I’d rather not go into in present company but that should make our forces more effective.”
Selena pursed her lips. “Even so we’re looking at some time before we have enough men to put into the field. Where else will this Aelthen have razed by then?”
Obair cleared his throat. “If I may, your majesty? There is a rather obvious solution to this.”
“Oh?”
“Widdengate is behind Bjornmen lines, is it not?” he asked Rhenkin.
The man grunted his agreement with a confused frown.
“In fact, from what I remember from your maps, Widdengate is no closer to us here than it is from the coast and the Bjornmen city is it?” Obair persisted.
“What are you suggesting, old man?” Selena asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Obair asked with a broad grin. “You need more men. Didn’t you say that there was an entire Bjornmen fleet headed for home to the city that the fae have just destroyed?”
“Ally with the Bjornmen?” Selena said, aghast. “My rule would be the shortest in history!” She shook her head hard enough to make her hair fly. “I just deposed a king on the basis of his inaction against the Bjornmen, now you would have me ally with them? No, the notion is ridiculous,” she insisted. “Even if I were open to the idea it would take months to broker an agreement.”
“I don’t think it would take nearly that long,” Obair disagreed. “I imagine Klöss could be convinced to come on side reasonably easily.”
“Klöss?” Selena scoffed. “The man is a deserter in their eyes. Exactly ho
w much authority do you imagine he’d have?”
“But this Rimeheld of theirs has been razed, your majesty,” Obair reminded her. “The commanders there are dead, at least that’s what Miriam told us?” He looked to the woman for confirmation. She nodded, her frown mirroring those of the others.
“And from what you’ve told me, Rhenkin, Klöss claims to have left after the fleet had already sailed? So those on the fleet would have no idea he’d deserted would they?”
Selena sighed. “This is all very interesting, Obair. And yes, you’re right, Klöss would probably be able to take charge of the men returning on their fleet. That is if it weren’t for the tiny matter of him being here, not there.”
“Ah hah!” The old man grinned, the smile looking out of place on his usually sad, tired, face.
“What now?” Selena demanded, losing her patience.
“You’re overlooking something. The fae can move from place to place far faster than our forces are capable of, isn’t that right?”
“Well, yes?” she shook her head as she spoke, unsure what he was driving at.
“Then Aervern could take Klöss to his men, couldn’t you?” he looked to the fae who stood watching them.
“I am not here to act as your servant, Wyrdeweaver. There are dangers you have not yet considered. Aelthen will know of your coming. The stench of the Wyrde is still thick on you both and he will know of your presence long before any other fae might detect it. If you attempt to battle your way through to the Withengate he will know of your presence. He will seek you out and lay you low.” That gave Obair pause and he tugged at his beard as he looked to Selena.
“A distraction then,” Rhenkin said, speaking before Selena could. “If you believe you can recreate this Wyrde and banish these beasts by reaching Widdengate then our job is simple. We must provide a threat sufficient enough to keep Aelthen and his forces occupied whilst you do. If the Bjornmen can strike from the east as we move our forces in from the west then so much the better.”
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