Ambassador (Conqueror of Isles Book 1)

by Stephen L. Hadley

  Elias frowned as he considered her proposition but Gilla was already shaking her head.

  “Too risky,” she countered. “If they’re on the coast, it’s possible that Tereus will reach them before us. With Cotora dead, it’ll take time for him to learn we’re together. We only left two dead behind in Dan Tien and he may assume they came to rescue the ambrosians. We need to keep the truth of our involvement with you a secret or his army will hunt my people down.”

  “You think he—” Elias began then stopped himself short. Taking a deep breath, he gazed at Gilla and reminded her, more delicately, “Tereus already expelled your people from Dan Tien.”

  Gilla averted her eyes for just an instant. “Besides,” she continued, “Rhona is the only elf here. Even if they believe she’s really a Gwydas, how many elves do you think would join us? Nobody wants to be conscripted, but they’d sooner that than join their enemies.”

  Elias breathed out slowly, hunting in vain for an objection to Gilla’s argument. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t find one for the simple reason that she was correct. It was easy to forget, thanks to the time he’d spent in Rhona and Gilla’s company, but they were still deep within enemy territory. Most of the elves they might encounter would view him with suspicion or worse.

  “You’re probably right,” he conceded, earning him a frustrated scowl from Rhona. “But we don’t have to decide tonight. Rhona can spy on the elves with her blessing. Maybe we’ll learn something we can use.”

  Neither of them appeared convinced, much less satisfied, but they didn’t argue. Rhona gazed around the circle of faces then turned and strolled away without a word. Gilla, on the other hand, merely returned her attention to the fire. In her hands, she held her mother’s undersized knife and spun it slowly, end over end.

  Elias lingered until the dour atmosphere grew too oppressive for him to stand then wandered away. He spotted Rhona immediately, seated on her sleeping pallet near the edge of camp, but a moment’s observation made it clear his company would not be welcome. Sighing, he retired to his own bed and stretched out on it. His body ached from the days of riding and his trousers chafed against his thighs where the oddly shaped saddle had rubbed them. He briefly considered stripping them off, but night was falling quickly and the familiar chill to the air convinced him otherwise. Gritting his teeth, he drew his legs up closer to warm them beneath the blanket he’d made of his cloak.

  He tried to drift off but, despite his exhaustion, sleep proved elusive. And somehow, as the rest of the group began to rest, the ambient noise grew louder. Avans snored loudly, Kyra snored softly, and the chirping insects all around them competed in an effort to be crowned the most deafening.

  Mouthing a curse, Elias sat upright, only yelp as he found himself face to face with Suli. The ambrosian froze in surprise as well, her large, luminescent eyes nearly as startling as her presence.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, chuckling in embarrassment. “I didn’t hear you…”

  He trailed off and glanced around. He’d made a point of designating a spare blanket for Suli’s use—not that he’d ever seen her use it. The ambrosian seemed to prefer bare grass. In fact, to the best of his knowledge, she’d never even bothered to try one of the pallets.

  And yet, here she was, crouching at the foot of his.

  “Suli?” he murmured, cocking his head. “Are you all right?”

  The ambrosian crawled lithely forward, catlike and unblinking. Gently, almost hesitantly, she peeled back his cloak.

  “Suli,” he repeated warily.

  The ambrosian huffed once in what might have been a laugh. She didn’t stop. Instead, she slowly stretched out, shimmied close, and cautiously laid her head on his chest.

  The first thing Elias felt was complete and utter confusion. True, his conversations with Suli had been rare and entirely one-sided, but he’d been given the unmistakable impression that the ambrosian regarded him with the same sort of benign disinterest that a veteran sailor might give a half-senile captain—deferential and obedient, but privately scornful. This was precisely the opposite.

  The second thing he noticed was the warmth. Suli’s body was a furnace and it was not until her body was snug against his that he realized just how cold his skin had grown.

  Elias couldn’t help a sigh. It was one thing to be warm with the sun beating down on him. It was quite another to be bundled warmly against the cool night air. And so, rather cautiously, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her. Suli stiffened at his touch but did not pull away. If anything, she seemed to bury her face against his chest with greater relish.

  “I… don’t quite understand,” he admitted, whispering. “But, thank you.”

  She huffed again, the heat of her breath slipping down the neck of his shirt and soothing the gooseflesh to be found there. It was such a pleasant feeling that Elias sighed again and nearly managed to forget the fact that Suli was quite naked. True, the color and texture of her skin made it easier to ignore than, say, Rhona’s semi-translucent garments. But naked she was, and very, very close.

  Elias squirmed, shifting slightly to mask his body’s involuntary reaction. Thankfully, Suli didn’t seem to notice, though her leg did climb dangerously high along his.

  “Gods,” he muttered. “Sometimes, I really wish you would talk.”

  Suli reached down. For a split second, Elias froze, alarmed by both the memory of her claws and the direction in which her fingers were heading. But, rather than venture past his waist, her hand found his, grasped it, and gently squeezed.

  As far as communication went, it wasn’t quite the same. But, he decided, perhaps it was enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Elias woke before dawn the next morning and immediately looked for Rhona. His unconscious mind had timed it well; the elf strolled down the hill toward them. And, judging by the way she rubbed her bare arms for warmth, she’d spent quite a bit of time with them outstretched.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  Rhona shrugged and shook her head. “No,” she reported. “They stay near Dan Tien. I do not see them leave.”

  Elias smiled grimly and climbed to his feet. “That’s good news,” he said. “Keep checking when you can. Let me know if anything changes.”

  Rhona nodded slowly but her gaze lingered on his feet. She frowned ever so slightly.

  Glancing down, Elias saw why. Suli dozed on his pallet, half-hidden beneath the blanket of his cloak. As if sensing his attention, she stirred drowsily and stretched out a claw to tug at the ankle of his trousers. Eyes widening, he stepped out of reach.

  Nothing had happened and there was no reason for him to feel guilty but Elias felt his face grow hot as he turned back to Rhona’s. The elf’s brow was furrowed with disapproval but her lips were twisted in a knowing smirk.

  “I—we didn’t…” Elias stammered.

  Rhona snorted and made her way back to her pallet. “I say nothing,” she teased. Despite her playful tone, Elias couldn’t shake the impression she was upset.

  Sighing, he stomped away toward the trees to relieve himself.

  He hadn’t planned on waking the others—a few extra minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt anything, especially with Tereus’ forces still stationed close to the city—but they were already waking when he returned a few minutes later. At Gilla’s prompting, they ate quickly. The saddlebags were supplied with dried meat and hardtack so wasn’t much variety to the meal, but Elias was hungry enough that he hardly cared. By the time the sun began cresting the horizon, they were already riding.

  Despite Gilla’s insistence that they spend less time resting, it seemed to him that they paused more often than they had previously. And privately, he suspected most of the trow were grateful for that fact. Lucasta and the rest of the noncombatants were forced to ride two to a saddle. And if the way Suli squirmed at his back and stretched at length whenever she could dismount, it was not a particularly comfortable way to cross an isle. />
  Even so, they made good time and soon fell into an increasingly comfortable, if monotonous rhythm. They rode from first to last light, pausing only once, shortly after midday, to deal with food and biological necessities. And, on each occasion, Rhona marched purposefully to the crest of the nearest hill, prayed, and returned to deliver the same report.

  “They stay near Dan Tien.”

  At first, her words had been a relief. But, a solid fortnight after their escape from the elven capital, Elias’ confusion boiled over into frustration.

  “What in the hells is he waiting for?” Elias snapped, aiming a kick at a rock. The blow landed and ripped the stone from the dirt, but it was larger than he’d expected and immediately regretted his decision when his toes throbbed painfully.

  Rhona fidgeted and did not reply. Avans, however, did.

  “What are you complaining for?” he asked. “The longer the bastard waits, the more time we’ve got to reach Islesmark. At this point, we might beat him even if he decides to sail.”

  “I want to keep Rhona’s eyes a secret,” Elias explained, masking a wince as he stretched his toes inside his boot. “Suppose we arrive and I have to explain that Tereus only left Dan Tien the day before? He wouldn’t believe us; you know how Offert is.”

  “No, I don’t,” Avans said, chuckling. “I’m afraid I don’t spend my time in such… lofty company.”

  “Eli’s right,” Kyra said. “My uncle’s not likely to take his word for it. Not fully. And he’s even less likely to believe it if we tell the truth.”

  “Great,” Avans grumbled. “So you’re telling me that we risked our lives for nothing? That’s wonderful.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” Elias assured him. “I’ll think of some way to convince him. Maybe I can pretend we interrogated one of Tereus’ captains. It doesn’t really matter if Offert believes how we got the information so long as he acts on it.”

  Avans grunted skeptically. Elias couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as though he wanted to hear that Tereus was sailing, or even marching, straight to Islesmark or the frontier. He knew, intellectually at least, that his pride and reputation were vastly less important than the lives that might be saved by an elven delay. He just wished that Avans could appreciate the… subtlety required to achieve that outcome.

  Or perhaps he was simply anxious. There was a bizarre simplicity to the life he’d lived the past month. It was painful, dangerous, and stressful. But, in some ways, it was easier than his old life in Islesmark had been. A part of him could understand, a little, why the veteran soldiers he’d seen and heard at home spoke so wistfully about the last war.

  It was Suli who distracted him from such thoughts. Sidling closer, the ambrosian wrapped her arm around his and rested her horned head on his shoulder. She’d done so more and more frequently since the first night she’d shared his pallet. And aside from some good-natured teasing from Avans and a few sour looks from Rhona, nobody seemed to care. Elias certainly didn’t. The change in the ambrosian’s behavior was unexpected, certainly, but far from unwelcome.

  Patting her hand where it grasped his arm, he sighed and forced a smile.

  “We’re only a few days from the frontier,” he said. “Since Tereus hasn’t made a move yet, we can probably forget about warning the plantations. That’ll help us reach Islesmark faster. We should probably keep clear of the main roads just in case. But, who knows? In another week or two, we might get to sleep in actual beds.”

  “Gods, I hope so,” Kyra muttered.

  ***

  There was no clear boundary dividing the nominally elven lands from the frontier, but Elias’ nervousness returned as the cycle of days continued and they passed from one realm to the other. It wasn’t that he feared being confronted or attacked—not really. They were still a solid week from Islesmark and patrols this far east were virtually nonexistent. Even if they did manage to stumble across a handful of soldiers, they’d be local militia and therefore not the sort to ambush a mixed company.

  No, the reason for his growing worry was Rhona. The Gwydas had taken him aside the morning after their conversation about Offert and confessed that her supernatural vision was growing less clear. She could still see Tereus’ soldiers and Dan Tien’s western gate, but the image was darkening by the day. And soon, certainly before they reached Islesmark, it would fade entirely.

  Elias had smiled, thanked her, and urged her to continue observing as best she could. He’d done a rather convincing job of it, too, given the panic blossoming in his chest.

  It was one thing if he managed to bring Offert concrete information about Tereus’ forces. Their direction or means of travel would probably ensure he regained a modicum of respect. Reporting the mere existence of an elven army would see him laughed out of the Governor-General’s palace. He could lie, of course. Paired with the thrilling, true tale of repeated capture and escape, he just might manage it. But it was a risk and not one he was eager to take.

  It came as a bitter relief, therefore, when Rhona yelped aloud and scrambled down from her ridge. Elias thought at first that she’d spotted soldiers, or perhaps been spotted herself, but realized his error long before she reached his side.

  “They walk!” she exclaimed, breathless and pale. “I see them walk!”

  “Where?” he demanded, equally breathless. “What direction?”

  The others were gathering and even the trow were practically crowding around the Gwydas in anticipation. Elias waved them back as Rhona closed her eyes, concentrating, and was relieved when the crowd retreated a few paces.

  Cracking open one eye, Rhona took him by the shoulders and spun him around. She turned him slowly, a few degrees at a time, evidently studying the angle of sunlight and shadow. Then, after circling him once, she nodded confidently.

  “North,” she reported. “Much north and little west.

  Elias stared at her, taken aback. “You’re certain?” he asked. “They’re marching, uh, north-northwest?”

  Rhona nodded, grinning despite the somber news. Her smile faded somewhat as Elias turned and began to pace, rubbing his chin and the modest, unkempt beard which had sprouted over the past weeks.

  “North-northwest,” he muttered. Of all the directions Rhona could have picked, this was the last he’d have guessed. South or east would have brought the elven army to the sea where they could be ferried with speed. Due west or even slightly northwest would have led them toward the frontier, while southwest could have served either purpose while also allowing them to recruit or conscript elves from the various towns along the coast.

  Turning on his heel, he locked eyes with Gilla.

  “North-northwest,” he repeated. “Why would they travel that way? The terrain is rougher so it can’t be a question of speed. And there’s nothing of value in that direction, is there?”

  The trow fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. She wasn’t the only one. All around her, the other trow displayed similar levels of unease. The sight alarmed him further, though not nearly as much as the sigh which Gilla gave then.

  “Tereus is taking them to be blessed,” she said. “There is only one temple northwest of Dan Tien. It is far, two weeks from the city, but I cannot think of another reason.”

  “They’re going to be…” Elias said, trailing off when the full implication of Gilla’s words reached him. Visions of such an army leapt fully formed from his imagination. Hundreds or thousands of elven soldiers able to call down storms or heal wounds even as they fought. Generals able to spy on once-glimpsed foes, outmaneuvering them from dozens or hundreds of miles away.

  Kyra spoke up, asking the questions he couldn’t quite manage. “What temple is it? What sort of blessing?”

  “Ne…Nessun,” Gilla said, stumbling over the name. “He is… my people do not worship him. He is an elven god only.”

  “The god of what?” Elias asked. “What does he do?”

  “All evils.” It was Rhona who answered him. She clas
ped her hands in front of her chest, wringing them slowly. “Sickness, stillbirth, battles. Nessun is all things in the world—all unwelcome things. He is a god, yes, but all fear him. This is why his temple is far from Dan Tien and others.”

  Foreboding lay heavily across Elias’ shoulders but he forced his back to remain straight. He glanced between Rhona and Gilla, brows lifted. “Okay. But what does that mean for the army? What sort of blessings does he give?”

  Gilla shrugged and Rhona did likewise a second later. “Mysteries,” the Gwydas said. “Nessun kills many who ask blessings—sometimes half. Only very desperate ones ask. I… I do not know why Tereus goes.”

  “Who cares why he’s going?” Avans growled. “We know where the army is now. If he’s headed northwest, then that means we have a few weeks to prepare. That should be good enough for Offert.”

  Elias nodded slowly. He didn’t share Avans’ blunt disinterest, but the man had a point. They had time. A little of it, at least.

  “I suppose it doesn’t change much,” he said. “We know where they are and the soonest they can attack. That’ll have to be enough. Maybe we can find some way to convince Offert to take blessings seriously.”

  “Well, we’ve got plenty of examples for him,” Avans pointed out, gesturing at Gilla and Rhona in turn. “Not our fault if he doesn’t listen.”

  Elias wanted to agree but couldn’t. True, it might not be their fault if Offert didn’t take the warning seriously. But they were likely the only humans in the entire Isles that knew the truth of the matter. It wasn’t a question of fault, but rather responsibility.

  And, at the moment, Elias couldn’t think of one he liked less.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  They rode swiftly, never wandering far from the narrow, cart-worn paths that crisscrossed the frontier but rarely venturing onto them directly. After two days, Rhona informed him that she was no longer able to perceive Tereus’ soldiers. When she’d last glimpsed them, however, they’d been continuing on the same north-northwestern trail that led to Nessun’s temple. The lack of continued insights was troubling but Elias masked his discomfort as best he could and thanked her for the information.