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

by C S Marks

  “Yes, no doubt we women-folk should leave everything to you,” said Gaelen. “That’s why I have needed to save your life on two occasions now.” She looked with concern at the wound on his arm. “Can you cope with that?”

  “What…this? It’s not bad—barely a scratch.”

  “Well, then keep safe, O Practiced Bandit. We shall meet at the appointed place.”

  Hallagond bent over one of the dead guards, the one Gaelen had shot in the throat, and drew forth a small horn that would no doubt raise quite a noise in the echoing confines of the palace. Then he ran back the way he had come; he wanted to put some distance between himself and Nelwyn’s chamber before he raised the alarm. Once he was satisfied with his location, he lifted the horn and blew one long, loud blast upon it, waited a few seconds, and then blew another series of shorter notes. Of course, he had no idea whether these sounds would have any special meaning, but he knew two things for certain. The horn was meant to summon aid in case of trouble, and everyone in the palace was certain to hear it. He began to make his way back down toward the kitchens, and freedom.

  Galador was administering aid to Al-Muniqui’s head wife when the alarm sounded. The guards left her chamber, all save one, to attend to whatever the trouble was. They couldn’t imagine what it could be—after all, no right-minded man would venture here and risk illness. Perhaps one of the guards was fevered, and had imagined enemies attacking the palace. That would explain it.

  Galador and Rogond straightened, rising to their feet, for it was now time to rejoin their friends. Galador took heart, for the alarm meant that Hallagond and Gaelen had succeeded in freeing Nelwyn. Either that or someone truly had raised the alarm.

  “I shall need to return to my pack-animal and replenish my supply of ingredients for my remedy,” Galador told the guard in the chamber. “I was unaware that so many were in need. I will return shortly.”

  “Your assistant may leave and fetch what is needed,” replied the guard, a tall, burly fellow who was obviously taking no nonsense. “You are to remain here with the sick until they are well.”

  “Of course,” said Galador, inclining his head courteously as Rogond picked up a copper brazier and struck the guard from behind, knocking him senseless. As they turned to leave the chamber, Rogond comforted Al-Muniqui’s head wife, whose eyes were now round with terror. “You will be fine in a few days. You have nothing to fear from us, my lady. Rest well, and don’t be afraid.” She looked at him with an expression that seemed torn between relief and confusion, as he followed Galador through the doorway.

  They had arranged to meet at the stables; the horses had already been laden in preparation for leaving the settlement in a hurry. Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Bint Raed arrived first, despite the fact that Bint Raed had insisted on taking a short side journey to the weaving-shed. There were items that she could not leave behind. She returned with a rather large, soft bundle.

  Gaelen shook her head. “You can’t carry all that, for the horses will need to be swift.”

  Bint Raed would not be moved. “You would curse me forever if I left this behind. It’s not heavy.” She immediately set about the task of adding it to Faladinn’s burden. He did not appear to mind.

  It would have been difficult to accomplish a speedy escape with two extra riders; the Company only had five horses, and only Eros, Réalta, Malvorn and Finan could be ridden. But Gaelen had already located Gryffa, Nelwyn’s mount, among Al-Muniqui’s horses. Nelwyn was fond of Gryffa, and they all knew him to be a worthy mount; he was courageous and surefooted, if somewhat temperamental. Gaelen had stolen in earlier, untied him, and allowed him to make his own decisions regarding his captivity. He stood waiting beside Réalta, nickering at Nelwyn as she approached.

  Nelwyn reached over and playfully ruffled Gaelen’s hair, an act that caused her cousin to cringe back and shake her head in disgust.

  “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

  “Not quite,” said Gaelen, looking to her gear. “Otherwise, I would have stolen in to the Chieftain’s chambers and found the key to those manacles. And while I was about it, I could have cut his throat while he slept, thus saving us all the trouble of avoiding him later. It would serve him right for kicking me!” If she lived forever, Gaelen would never forget the savagery of that gesture. She sensed that Al-Muniqui’s comfortable world was about to fall down around him, and she would waste no time in feeling sorry for him when it did.

  The three of them spent the next several minutes looking anxiously toward the palace. Sharp-eyed Nelwyn first beheld Rogond and Galador making their way toward her, emerging into the moonlight, but it was Gaelen who noticed the tiny shadow atop the wall. She cried in dismay and pointed toward a single archer, who even now appeared to be drawing on Galador!

  Gaelen knew that their only hope was Nelwyn’s bow. The shot was long, and the archer was well protected atop the wall; only his head, shoulders and arms were exposed. There was a strong breeze out of the north.

  “Nelwyn, only you can make this shot. Remember when I practiced with Wellyn? I have brought your bow…quickly, we must work together!” Nelwyn’s wrists were still bound, but there was nothing wrong with her eye. Gaelen bent Nelwyn’s longbow as her cousin crouched behind her. Nelwyn made a very tiny correction and held her breath, signaling Gaelen to release. In what was clearly a miracle of good luck, the shaft struck the archer’s right arm. He would not draw his bow again for a while.

  In a few moments they were reunited. Nelwyn embraced Galador as though she would never let go, throwing her manacled hands over his head. He was completely unmanned, his face buried in her golden hair, hugging her fiercely, as Rogond and Gaelen exchanged worried looks.

  “Where is Hallagond?” asked Rogond. “I thought he was with you.”

  “He sent us ahead—it was he who raised the alarm,” said Gaelen. “He insisted on doing it alone, without any aid from us women-folk, as he put it. Oh, and his life-debt has grown deeper thanks to my bow.”

  “You will release him, nevertheless,” said Rogond. He was now very worried, looking back toward the palace. But Hallagond was nowhere in sight. They could hear shouts and wails; Gaelen hoped that Hallagond would be all right. She really did not relish trying to get him out of another difficulty.

  They were on the verge of starting back to look for Hallagond when he suddenly appeared beside Malvorn as though out of nowhere. He startled Nelwyn; had she been able she would have drawn her bow on him. He shot a wry look at Gaelen and Rogond. “You really didn’t think me foolish enough to cross that open courtyard, did you? The moon is bright. I would have been a clear target for any archer atop the wall.”

  “Well, thank the stars you didn’t waste any more time in getting here,” said Gaelen with a slightly crooked smile. “We must fly from this place before they try to stop us.” She mounted Finan without another word. “I will not release you from your life-debt until we return to the Chupa, Hallagond. You must ride with us until then.” She turned and started toward the gates.

  Nelwyn and Galador were mounted as well. Bint Raed rode behind Nelwyn, who was her friend. The Company rode toward the gates of the settlement, calling out to the gate-keepers to open them. Rogond raised his arm to the man he had spoken with earlier. Knowing Rogond to be a friend, and knowing of no reason why he should not do so, the gatekeeper opened the heavy gates to the wide sands that lay under the bright golden light of Al-Muniqui’s very unlucky moon.

  Chapter 14: SOME DEBTS REPAID

  The Company rode swiftly for several hours, placing as much distance between themselves and Al-Muniqui’s stronghold as possible. It soon became clear that no immediate pursuit was forthcoming, which puzzled everyone except Hallagond, who simply shrugged it off. Gaelen and Rogond had expected to be fighting off Al-Muniqui’s forces by now, and they asked Hallagond about it. “This is the third time I have expected pursuit and found none,” said Gaelen.

  “You forget—they think they are in the grip of a dreadful pestil
ence. They have far greater worries than coming after us. Most of them don’t even know what’s happened yet. I’m not concerned.” He reined in his mount, and they all stopped for a breather. He then displayed his usefulness by working Nelwyn’s manacles open with a stout pin of steel—apparently there were few locks that could foil him—and she felt truly free for the first time since Sajid’s treachery.

  Malvorn regained his breath as Eros rolled briefly in the sand, lurched to his feet, and shook himself before attempting to rub his head on Rogond. “I know, old fellow. You’ve been sweating under that bridle, and you’ve got an itch,” said Rogond, reaching obligingly underneath the headstall with strong fingers. Eros was so delighted that he nearly knocked him over.

  “If they are rested, we should move on before the sun rises,” said Gaelen, swinging up on Finan. “That is, if Nelwyn and Galador can tear themselves away from one another long enough…” She hadn’t fully realized how much joy could be had from saying those simple words, and she smiled, turning her mount back to the deep desert.

  Nelwyn and Galador were lost in the relieved joy that comes with being reunited at last. Bint Raed likewise reveled in her liberty, for she had not felt the free air in many, many years. The only member of the Company that seemed disgruntled was Malvorn, who struggled to keep up with the swifter horses, burdened as he was by Hallagond, who was a large, heavy, and somewhat unbalanced rider at present.

  His left arm had been badly slashed during his encounter in the palace, and had received only minimal attention. He pulled up, slowing Malvorn to a walk, as he felt shaky and light-headed.

  Gaelen turned Finan about almost without touching him, for they were developing so close a connection that she had only to think of where she wished to go. She cantered back to find Malvorn standing head down, with Hallagond weaving slightly in the saddle.

  “Aiyah!” she cried, even as Rogond rode up behind her. They both went immediately to Hallagond’s aid, though he tried to wave them off. He was soon lying under the waning moonlight on the sand among some tall stones, his feet propped on Bint Raed’s mysterious bundle.

  “He hasn’t eaten, and he is nearly exhausted from running and fighting,” said Gaelen. “We need to bind his arm and get some food into him. Then he’ll need rest.”

  “Look who knows so much about healing,” muttered Hallagond as Rogond gave him a long drink of water and honey. The color was coming back in his face and his gaze was reasonably clear as Nelwyn examined his arm, yet he moaned in pain and would not keep still.

  Gaelen extracted a small silver flask from a leather pouch on her belt, holding it to Hallagond’s lips. “This is very precious, and there is only a very small amount of it. I have brought it all the way from the northern forest. Take one sip, Tuathan, and one only.”

  Hallagond took a very small quantity of liquid from Gaelen’s flask. A tingling sensation filled his mouth and throat as he swallowed it. It was warm, yet it felt refreshingly cool, filling his body with a pleasant sensation. He felt sleep taking him gently into its dark embrace, and he was briefly dismayed. “What sorcery is this?” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping. “What have you given me, you pointed-eared harpy?”

  Gaelen didn’t much like being called a harpy, but she brushed it off. “Sleep, if you would be healed. Dream of that which brings you joy.” She recapped the flask, after first wiping the rim rather pointedly in front of Hallagond, and replaced it in her pouch.

  Hallagond’s eyes rolled back in his head and he was soon dreaming very agreeable dreams.

  “What is that elixir?” asked Rogond, but Gaelen did not answer. “It’s water of moon-flower, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s moon-flower. I thought it could be useful.” I dare not tell him the real reason I brought this…if Gorgon should somehow prevail, or regain the use of his mirror, I will die rather than aid him. The herb itself was poison, but the water in which it grew could be distilled into a powerful elixir, such that a few drops could subdue the strongest man. A few too many drops would kill. With the aid of the moon-flower, Gaelen would die painlessly, filled with blissful visions, and be of no use to her enemy.

  Rogond knew she was holding something back, and he thought he could guess where her thoughts had turned. “Gaelen, you must promise not to use that elixir until we have tried everything else,” he said softly. “Not unless there is no other way. Promise me.”

  “Unless there is no other way,” she repeated. Then, after a long moment of quiet, she nodded. “I promise.”

  Nelwyn attended to Hallagond’s arm as Bint Raed looked on, occasionally offering advice. Nelwyn would learn much from this woman of the southland, as would they all. She had offered to guide them for as long as she could. Nelwyn would ever be her friend, as would everyone else in the Company, for she was intelligent, knew much of the ways of the southlands, and would prove to be a stalwart companion. Bint Raed was no fighter, but she had skills that would prove valuable. She would never need to lift a weapon if the Company could help it.

  Hallagond slept until mid-afternoon of the following day. He awoke to the sound of Elvish singing; he had heard it several times during the night. Gaelen was joyful at the successful completion of their quest, and she had poured forth her happiness in song. She sang especially for Hallagond, thinking to aid him in healing, for without him they would not have succeeded.

  “Stop that noise,” he muttered, turning his head away and pulling his cloak over his face. “Didn’t I say that your tongue is not welcome in my ears? That includes singing as well.” Though he grumbled, he had to admit that he felt wonderful. The waters of the moon-flower bring pleasant dreams and restful sleep…Hallagond felt as though he never wanted to truly be awake again.

  Gaelen and Nelwyn laughed at his growling, and Gaelen continued to sing, but instead of the beautiful words she simply sang “Eh-ya-la…la-la-la…”

  Nelwyn turned to Rogond. “Hallagond is well enough to travel, though he will not wish to. I would suggest that we begin to make our way when the sun sets.” Rogond agreed. In the meantime they would eat, drink, and rest.

  Gaelen, who needed no rest, offered to ride back a short way toward the settlement and scout for pursuers. She did not like being idle, and this delay in the open desert with nothing to occupy her was bothersome.

  “There will be no pursuit,” mumbled Hallagond, who was still only half-awake. “I would expect they are seeing to their own affairs today, and will have more than enough to occupy them.”

  This comment brought puzzlement again to the minds of Rogond and Gaelen. “Why say you so?” asked Rogond, but his brother either had fallen asleep again, or was pretending to have done so.

  “Stay here then, Gaelen, and lie with me,” said Rogond. “I know that you do not need rest, but I have seen precious little time with you, and I will rest better with you in my arms. Come, and let us share our love.”

  Nelwyn and Galador kept the watch together, as Bint Raed and Hallagond rested beneath the shade of stones.

  Bint Raed slept peacefully; she would no longer need to dream of freedom, for it was hers at last. Hallagond enjoyed the last of the effects of the moon-flower as he strayed from one pleasant vision to the next; not even the strongest liquor could rival it. Not far away, Rogond Thaylon, his brother, slept contentedly with his beloved in his arms. Gaelen stretched and sighed, her fingers straying to his ever-lengthening beard, entwining and playing in the soft curls, for even though she was happy in Rogond’s embrace, she could not keep still.

  As Hallagond had predicted, they gained the Chupa with no interference from anyone. El-morah and his family were both surprised and pleased to see them alive and whole. They were delighted to meet Nelwyn, and they offered space beneath their own roof for the Company to rest and keep their valuables.

  Fima was nearly overcome with joy at seeing his friends again, especially Nelwyn, for she was as radiant as ever. He covered these feelings by growling and blustering at her. “How could you have been so carel
ess as to let Sajid take you? You had best take better care in the future, for I shall be angry if you so frighten me again.”

  Nelwyn embraced him, kissing the top of his soft leather head-covering. The dwarf closed his eyes and patted her arm gently, for he had feared never to see her again.

  “My friends,” said El-morah, lifting his cup. “I drink to your return and rejoice with you. Yet I would caution you, for though you have prevailed over your enemies, you have made several here in the Chupa that must now be avoided. Please, do nothing to place yourselves in further jeopardy.”

  Hallagond nodded. “I understand. Yet there are a few debts that must be paid while we are here, including those owed to you and Mikla. I’m not yet certain whether a certain She-elf has released me from a life-debt, for she saved my life again in the palace. If she has not, then I must learn how I may repay her so that I may be on my way. I have matters of my own to attend to.”

  Rogond did not react openly to this, but Gaelen perceived his dismay. Despite their recent cooperation, at least one of the brothers could scarcely wait to be separated from the other. She could not comprehend this—Hallagond had no other kin, he had not long been aware of his brother’s existence, yet now he would turn from Rogond rather than embrace him. The idea of shunning one’s close kin, when they had done nothing to warrant it, seemed strange and unnatural.

  When Hallagond rose and went out into the night, Gaelen followed after him, for she would understand. She called out to his rapidly retreating back. “Tuathan! Stand and face me, for there are things I would say to you.”

  Hallagond turned toward her, an expression of annoyance on his face. “Do not call me that here. I do not wish to call attention to my heritage, and if you had learned anything at all from your time in the Ravani you would know it. Here, I am Al-amand. Remember it!”