Fire-heart (Tales of Alterra, the World that Is)

by C S Marks

  The concept of helplessness was one she did not grasp well, for she had rarely known what it means to be truly powerless. “I’m sorry. This is not your doing. Please…say no word of this. I will take my leave of you now.”

  She left the courtyard, bowing before the surprised and relieved man-servant, heading toward her final destination, which was the Al-Muniqui’s palace. She would have her gentle cousin spend no more time in such a place.

  The sun went down that evening, and Gaelen knew she had not much time before moonrise. She needed to accomplish her purpose before then, as she would be difficult to see in the twilight shadows. She had to speak with Nelwyn, and she had formed a rather risky plan that would allow her to do so.

  A ledge ran above Nelwyn’s window; it was only about a foot wide, but it would easily support Gaelen’s weight. She would gain the ledge using her bow, a specially barbed arrow, and some of her own hand-made rope, then climb down to the window so she could tell Nelwyn of the plan. Luckily, the window was on the western side of the palace. Fortunately, the moonlight would not reach it until many hours had passed, for it would reveal Gaelen to any who passed by. This would be difficult enough.

  She gained the ledge by anchoring her arrow in the wall above it and using a slender cord tied to the shaft. After climbing up, she coiled the precious cord about her waist and made her way along the ledge a few feet at a time, freezing in place when anyone passed by. The carved walls of the palace aided her, as she could blend in more easily among the intricately rendered figures of birds, beasts, and Al-Muniqui’s ancestors. She made no sound. This was not difficult for one who had spent so many centuries surprising the unwary—she was unrivaled among her people in this regard.

  She listened carefully at the window, hearing only the voices of Nelwyn and the weaver-woman, Bint Raed. They were speaking in the Elven-tongue, and Gaelen thought it likely that they were alone. There was a small shelf into which the window-bars were set, and Gaelen drew a deep breath before taking on the tricky task of leaping down onto it, grabbing the bars to keep from falling to the courtyard below. Her face was bathed in the warm light of the chamber as she looked inside.

  Nelwyn, hands still tethered, took food and drink with Bint Raed. Their hopes had risen considerably, and they appeared to be in good spirits. Nelwyn knew that her friends would not fail her. Al-Muniqui had come to her each night, trying to sway her to his way of thinking, but she still refused to speak to him. His patience was wearing thin.

  Soon now, Bint Raed had warned, he would try to take her by force. “I hope your friends are swift in their rescue, for I know Al-Muniqui, and he will not long stand for your treatment of him.” Then she gave a tiny yelp of surprise as a pebble struck the back of her head, tossed in by Gaelen to attract her attention. “Who’s there?” she said, approaching the window with caution.

  “It’s Gaelen Taldin, Nelwyn’s cousin, or Brunor-the-apprentice-kaffa-peddler, whichever you would prefer. I need to have words with Nelwyn. Listen carefully, both of you.”

  The sound of her cousin’s voice thrilled Nelwyn almost beyond description. “Are you well? What of Galador, and Rogond, and Fima? When will you come to liberate me? What must I do?”

  “For now, be silent and listen” said Gaelen. “Everyone is fine. You will need to endure two more days of captivity. You must NOT drink any dark, hot liquid that is served to you. Do you understand?”

  “Why not?” asked Bint Raed, who was very fond of kaffa, especially with breakfast. As Master Weaver, it was one of her privileges.

  “In two days, when the moon has come into full phase, the people of the settlement will appear to sicken. They will suffer from a slow poison that has been placed in the kaffa, but they won’t know it. They will fear a return of the Plague, and the household will be locked down. The guards and servants will be unable to stop us, and we will rescue you then,” said Gaelen. “Only Al-Muniqui’s supply has been poisoned, but it will be enough that the people will most likely panic. I would imagine he will serve kaffa to many of his guests; the sickness will appear widespread before all is ended.”

  Bint Raed was concerned, as many of the people were blameless, and she would have no harm come to them. “Will these people that sicken…will they die?”

  “Not of this poison,” said Gaelen. “But after what I’ve seen, I wouldn’t put it past them to kill each other to protect themselves. The poison will sicken them for a few days, but it will not in itself cause death. You must both be ready, for when the time comes we will act swiftly. You’ll know when we come for you.”

  “Al-Muniqui loves his kaffa. I would imagine the guards won’t be allowed to share it,” said Bint Raed with a worried glance at the door.

  “Probably not, but their officers will,” said Gaelen. “We have it on good authority.”

  “Who thought of this plan? It seems odd, but…inspired,” said Bint Raed. “The people will be thrown into chaos, and they will take little notice of you. This sounds like a plan hatched in the mind of a man, not an Elf.”

  “Indeed,” said Gaelen, looking meaningfully at Nelwyn. “We have found Rogond’s brother. The plan is of his design—he is proving quite useful. I can say no more at present.” Her gaze flickered toward the door...she had heard something.

  “Someone is coming. I must leave you now. Take courage; only two more days, and you will be free.” With that, she disappeared, leaping down from the window-ledge after first making sure she would not be observed. She landed lightly on her feet, though her teeth rattled a little on impact. She gathered herself and disappeared, leaving no trace behind, just as Al-Muniqui entered Nelwyn’s chamber.

  This time he brought gifts to try to convince her to speak to him. Once again he would leave frustrated, threatening, as he had every night, that his patience and generosity were reaching their limit. Nelwyn and Bint Raed hoped that they would both be rescued before he decided to take Nelwyn whether she spoke to him or not.

  As Gaelen made her way back through the darkened settlement, she had to admire Hallagond’s ingenuity. Because of the delayed nature of the poison, no one would make the connection between the kaffa and the sickness. The elixir had no taste or odor, and it did not sicken for two days, so the man employed by Al-Muniqui to taste all his food and drink would feel no immediate effects. The signs were very much like those of the Plague; a dead feeling in the hands and feet, followed by a dark purple rash. Victims would weaken and be unable to eat or drink anything, and they would take to their beds. Unable to speak clearly, their tongues would swell and their fevered words would make no sense. Though the effects would appear suddenly, and would be unpleasant, they would fade in a day or two. It was essential to strike while the distress of the people was greatest.

  When the first victims of the poison began to sicken, the rumors spread quickly. Al-Muniqui’s household was particularly hard hit, and no one was allowed in or out. The few healers who were not ill had mysteriously packed their belongings and left by dark of night. Wayfarers and traders would be turned away, at least until the extent and nature of the sickness became known. People were terrified, and the wails of the frightened as well as the ill filled the streets. Oddly, very few of the servants and slaves had been taken; it was mostly the privileged who felt the cold hand upon their necks.

  As Hallagond had instructed, Galador and Rogond came to the gates at the full moon’s rising, garbed as desert wayfarers, leading their horses. As they approached, the sentinels called out to them to come no closer.

  “This is a place of sickness. Turn back, if you would live”

  Rogond stepped forward, with Galador behind him. “We know of your plight,” he said, “for we have followed this illness from a neighboring oasis. We are healers of renown. My friend here cannot suffer from any sickness, and he has offered his services. Are you sure you would decline them?”

  Naturally, they were admitted at once.

  “Our Chieftain and his family are in grave need of you,” said the ga
tekeeper. “No doubt you will be handsomely rewarded.”

  One of the men took hold of Rogond’s arm; his fear evident. “Is it the Plague?” he asked. Then he spoke in a hushed voice. “I have not been myself since early evening…I have some pain, and…and I think fever. I have a young wife and son. They would be lost without me.”

  Rogond looked back at him with gentle reassurance. There was nothing wrong with the man’s body; only in his mind. “Don’t be afraid,” he replied in a soothing tone. “You do not have the look of death about you. Go home and rest, for you are weary. My friend can work miracles; even the Plague flees before his hands. You’ll be all right.” Rogond could see the relief in the young man’s eyes, and he almost felt shame at bringing such fear among these people.

  “May the blessings of heaven go before you,” said the sentinels, bowing low and spreading their hands palms-upward before them. Rogond and Galador bowed solemnly and made their way toward the center of the Settlement, where their friends awaited them.

  Galador and Rogond were admitted into the palace without hesitation, for the Chieftain and his family lay in the grip of a dire illness, and the newcomers were reputed to be healers of renown. They were promised great reward if they would save Al-Muniqui from death.

  Hallagond and Gaelen, known only as kaffa-peddlers, would have to find another way inside.

  A rear entrance led to the palace kitchens, and it was unguarded, as most of the guards who were still healthy were otherwise occupied. Gaelen paused to look around the large, well-appointed kitchen, liberated two ripe, sweet fruits from a basket, and tossed one to Hallagond.

  “Remember, don’t drink the kaffa,” she said playfully, looking out into the courtyard, where the first rays of the full moon were beginning to appear.

  Now it was time to find Nelwyn and Bint Raed. They carried their weapons in plain view, and Gaelen had made no attempt to disguise herself, shedding the raiment of “Brunor” the moment she gained entry into the palace. Silent and purposeful, she strode down the corridor with her blades at her back, her bow in her hand and a fierce light in her eyes. She met only a few folk, and they did not oppose her. They shrank back from her strangeness, thinking she must have been a delusion brought by fever. Hallagond had only to follow after her.

  She took one wrong turn, but quickly corrected her course, moving without further error to the chamber of Nelwyn. Unfortunately, there were two undeniably healthy guards at the door. Gaelen knew that she could take them quickly using her bow, but she held nothing against these men, who had done nothing to harm Nelwyn. They were simply doing their lord’s bidding. She waved Hallagond back and crept toward them unseen.

  “I will give you one chance,” she said, startling both of them as they turned to find her standing not twenty feet away. “Lay down your weapons and depart this place. First unlock the door, for we will free our companion. Your master is ill and dying—he will have no further need of her. I can draw this weapon and release it in the blink of an eye. Obey me, or breathe your last. Your master is in no condition to punish you, so why not live to fight another day? Go down to the kitchens and treat yourselves to a meal. Sleep well this night. Just unlock the door and walk away.”

  The two guards looked at one another, the fear in their eyes evident. Yet there was something else there as well, though Gaelen was uncertain of its nature. There was fear, but not enough of it. These men knew something that she did not.

  “Obey me, now!” she cried, sending one shaft flying, then drawing another before the guards could react. The shaft grazed one just to the outside of his wide-open right eye, and came to rest quivering in the door behind his head. Both guards froze as though made of stone.

  “This time I will strike your eye if you do not obey within the count of five,” said Gaelen. “I’m growing impatient. If you will not do as I ask, I will shoot you both and unlock the chamber myself. One….two….three….”

  She was interrupted by a cry of alarm from Hallagond, and by the ring of clashing blades.

  Galador stood over the prone body of Al-Muniqui, his strong hands clenched, his expression veiled. The wretched man had taken to his bed, and was now lying in a miserable knot among the fine brocaded sheets, his dark purple robes soaked with sweat. He mumbled words of supplication, though they were difficult to understand, as his senses were addled and his tongue was thick in his mouth.

  Galador did not feel pity for this cruel man who had taken Nelwyn. Even though Gaelen had reported that Nelwyn was in good health and seemed to be in fair spirits, both Gaelen and Galador had felt the despair she had sent out to them many days ago. Galador looked down upon the helpless man, this man he hated, knowing that he would now have to bring him comfort.

  Al-Muniqui gazed up into Galador’s bright eyes, and they did not comfort him. He had looked into Nelwyn’s eyes long enough to recognize that this tall healer was another of her race, and he was afraid. “Keep him away from me,” he called to his attendants. “He is another of the Immortal Ones. I cannot bear to look upon him…I wish now that I had never set eyes upon any of them. Keep him away!”

  The attendants looked over at Galador, who did not reply. Rogond stepped in to reassure them. “Your master is fevered, and does not know what he is saying. It is true that my companion is Avinashi, which is why he cannot get the sickness. If it were not so, we would not be here to aid you. Step back and allow him to accomplish his purpose. If all goes well, your master will soon be himself again.”

  Galador mixed up a concoction that Hallagond had given him; it was a simple mixture, but it would dull the effects of the poison and allow for a speedy recovery. “Give him some of this. It will bring him around by late tomorrow,” said Galador.

  The attendants worked to comply, but Al-Muniqui would not swallow the remedy. “I tell you, he is bent on vengeance! He is trying to poison me! The light of his eyes burns my soul…I will not drink of his poison! Get it away!”

  They held down the raving man as Galador poured the elixir down his throat. The wretch gagged and spat and struggled, but eventually they were successful. Galador stood erect again, wiping spittle from his face.

  “He will sleep now. Take me to the next unfortunate in need of my ability,” he said. At least this fool regrets his association with Nelwyn…I’ll have to take what satisfaction I can from that simple fact.

  A cry of alarm from Hallagond had distracted Gaelen, and her attention wavered for just a moment. The guards took advantage, springing toward her with fierce yells, swords flashing, intending to cut her down. She let her first arrow fly; it killed the one nearest dead as stone, straight through the right eye. He blocked her as he fell, and the other was upon her before she could draw another shaft. He was large and formidable, and she just managed to duck under his blade, hearing the clash of steel in the corridor behind her.

  Apparently it had been time for the guard to change, and the replacements had come upon Hallagond unaware. He was now fending off two very adept swordsmen, slashing and ducking, calling upon his considerable skill. First Bezaltor, and now this, he thought. It had been long since he had faced such a challenge, as he normally did not place himself in such a position.

  Gaelen fared better, for her adversary was in need of sleep; the guards who had not become ill were weary and overtaxed. She had relatively little difficulty with him despite his size, for she was agile and quick, and he could not touch her. She finished him with a quick thrust beneath the left arm as he raised his blade. He gasped in surprise, falling next to his companion.

  She then ran to the aid of Hallagond, who had suffered a slash to the left forearm that was bleeding rather badly. If things had gone on as they were for much longer, Rogond would have lost his brother for good. Yet the guards had not reckoned on Gaelen, who shot one in the throat, allowing Hallagond to take the other with a thrust to the heart. “Your life debt is becoming ever more compelling,” she said, retrieving her arrow as he stood before her, trying to catch his breath. “Come no
w, and help me unlock the door! We may have been heard.”

  “You will need the large, squarish key…quickly, quickly!” said Bint Raed from behind the door. She had heard the commotion, and knew that her freedom was at hand.

  Hallagond found the keys on the belt of the guard Gaelen had shot in the eye, even as she struggled to retrieve her arrow. “There’s no time for that,” said Hallagond, fumbling with the keys until he found one that was large and squarish.

  “They who waste arrows will want them,” was the calm reply. “Just get that door open, will you?” Then she called to Bint Raed and Nelwyn: “Make ready! We must fly from this place, and I will need to raise the alarm. That is the signal for our other friends.”

  Hallagond succeeded in opening the heavy door, whereupon Gaelen ran to her cousin and embraced her. Nelwyn wept, for she had once thought that all was lost and they would never see each other again.

  Bint Raed shook her head. “There is one small difficulty, and that is with Nelwyn’s tether. Only Al-Muniqui holds that key.”

  “Not a problem,” said Hallagond. “Step back, Gaelen…I would rather not injure you.” He swung his bright blade, cleaving the tether with three strokes that notched the steel post it was fastened to. Nelwyn was free, though her wrists were still bound with iron. “If you will give me a few minutes, I can get those off…I think,” said Hallagond.

  “We don’t have many minutes to spend here,” said Bint Raed, looking anxiously up and down the corridor. “If anyone heard you…”

  “It’s all right,” said Nelwyn. “I can run just fine.”

  “You women-folk go on, then,” said Hallagond. “I will raise the alarm to attract their attention, and then let them chase me for a bit before I elude them. You go on, Gaelen, and make certain all are kept safe.” He flashed a broad, rather wicked grin. “Don’t worry…I’m fairly good at this sort of thing. I have had some practice while traveling among thieves and bandits.”