“Oh please!” Errance spat. “Everyone knows that a chema is a stone’s throw from a shard!”
The entire tribe erupted. Men shouted, leaping to their feet, and women shook their fists, yelling any manner of protest or insult. Errance bolted to his feet, free arm tense for battle.
Falling back against Kelm in dismay, Tellie looked from face to face, seeing either hatred or confusion in every expression. At first she did not understand why Errance’s bitter words ignited such a reaction from their hosts, but as the accusation replayed through her mind, its meaning dawned on her with pale horror. The nightmarish face of Kilkus the shard flashed before her vision, yet it bore no resemblance to the people here. How could Errance say they turned into such monsters?
The Ancient stood, raising his frail hand over his head. “Enough,” he said, voice gaining unusual strength. “Enough!”
At his command, the chemas ceased their angry roar, but many of them did not sit or remove their hand from their weapons. They glared at Errance with contempt, and he glared back with equal potency.
The Ancient slowly pivoted, turning solemn eyes on each and every one of his people, before facing Errance again. “Elf prince, you are too young to remember the dealings our kind had with yours, but you were taught the facts well enough.” He sat again, heaving a heavy breath. “You have every right to question us. But I cannot prove to you we are not your enemies any more than we have. Did they ever wash you or bandage you or give you food?”
“They’re creative,” Errance said, which wasn’t an exact answer.
Nobody seemed to know what to say next. And then a sudden movement in the tense stillness. Tryss stood up, dipped her spoon into Errance’s bowl of broth and took a sip. “It’s not poisoned,” she said.
He jolted, spilling the broth over his hand, and stared at her.
And then without a word, he turned away and walked out of the gathering. He headed straight for the empty healing hut, the door slamming so hard behind him that the reeds shook.
The supper continued in uneasy silence. But Tellie could not help but notice that Errance had taken the bowl of broth with him.
14
oOo
The air is hot, humid, suffocating, and my stomach churns and threatens to be sick from the food I dared eat. I do not pace, for that would mean I was caged, and I have entered these brittle walls again by my own choice. Better to give yourself breakable bonds than be held captive by others. When night comes, perhaps I shall split the reeds apart and go…go…where..? I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who these people are. The children believe they are friends, but what do they know of friends, what do they know of lies and betrayal? I know it, and that knowledge is power.
Tryss had never been invited to a Council. She always stayed behind to care for her younger siblings and send them off to bed while her parents and elders conferred in the village center.
But her great-great grandfather, the Ancient, had summoned her, and so for the first time she sat among the village elders upon the logs ringing the largest fire pit under the jungle canopy and the starry sky above. She shifted in the heavy hush as all waited for the Ancient to arrive, hoping that the warm light of the fire did not reveal how nervous she felt. Really, the fluttering of her pulse surprised her for she’d only ever looked forward to sitting among the leaders and listening to their wisdom.
Perhaps it was because this night, true fear held every tongue still, turned every face solemn. Perhaps it was because of the strangers asleep in the nearby huts. Perhaps it was because the darkness of night now felt like devouring Darkness pressing down upon the hearts of all.
The Ancient approached, slow and frail after the long day, leaning upon his staff and the arm of one of his grandsons. He sat at his place in the circle and fixed his star-twinkling eyes upon the tense faces before him. “Quite an unexpected turn of events, yes?” he said, mouth twitching into a smile.
A few unsteady laughs, and everyone exhaled. Their Ancient was good and wise and surely he would lead them to peace as he always had before.
“What is to be done about this elf prince?” asked one of the eldest sons.
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, the old man mused, “Well, he must be seen safely back to Aselvia. As Ayeshune saw it fit to lead them to our care, we cannot send them on their way without help. But who could we send that the elf would accept?”
“Ha,” scoffed another. “He will accept no one. His prejudice is clear enough.”
“And justified,” the Ancient said sternly. “We must send one who is not a threat. A strong male and protector they do not need, Errance is that enough. A guide and a caretaker is what we should provide.” He blinked as he gazed around the gathering and then settled on one person. “And I can think of no one more suited than our beloved Tryss.”
An empty silence followed, the sort of silence that happens when every thought has spun out of the mind.
Tryss sat blinking in muddled shock, not quite certain she’d actually heard her grandfather utter her name.
Then the circle erupted into protest. Her parents, uncles, aunts, elder cousins, and wise mentors aside shouted their disapproval, but through all their dissent, the Ancient merely sat quiet, his gaze fixed on Tryss. She stared back, pouring her own questions and uncertainties into her large eyes and anxious mouth.
“She is not safe with him! He nearly struck you down!”
“But he didn’t,” the Ancient said mildly.
“He attacked our healer!”
“He had just woken—cornered and frightened,” reminded the old man. “If there’s anyone with a gentle hand to soothe fear, it is Tryss.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Tryss’s mother, “which is why she must stay here and care for the children.”
“Oh come now, Felisii,” the Ancient said. “You have other daughters of age to lend more help in the household.”
“You would send our next master healer?”
“With the most wounded man I have seen in all my life? Yes.”
“He would harm her!”
“There that is again,” the Ancient said. “But no. No, you must but look into his eyes and see he would harm nothing but in self-defense.”
“What do we owe him?”
The question spewed from the lips of the Ancient’s second-born, a sinewy man with flashing eyes. Crimson anger stained his face, the firelight colored his bared teeth. “What do we owe that man? We give him nothing but good-will, and he throws it back in our face with insults. Why should we sacrifice one of our brightest and best to him?”
No one spoke as they considered the question. Tryss hunkered back into the shadows but no one looked her way, so lost were they in their own conflict. And as for her, what was her answer to the question? When she had found the children and the elf in the forest, her heart had overflowed with compassion for them, and when she’d wrapped the wounds of the prince, she’d pitied him with all her soul. But when he’d woken…the harshness of his spirit, the violence of his actions…she’d not expected that. Perhaps she should have, perhaps she should give him grace in light of his torments. Still, he’d reviled them at the feast. It’d hurt her, hurt with a sharpness she hadn’t expected.
But still…
“Because it is the right thing to do,” she said, standing and striding to the circle’s center. “Everyone has given their opinion on whether or not I should go, but no one has asked me. And I am willing. If the Ancient says that I need not fear him, I’ll trust that. And there are the children, whom we’ve hardly mentioned. Are we expecting the prince to take care of them—him, a prisoner for seventy years? Ha! I’ll be surprised if he even knows how to take care of himself!”
Wide eyes turned to her, and in their depths, she saw guilt and understanding, but then one firm voice spoke.
“Tryss,” said her father. “I will not allow it.”
“And where then,” the Ancient said, struggling to his feet, “do you suggest we find our new ho
me?”
Confused murmurs winged through the gathering, and Tryss’s father frowned. “My elder, what does that have to do with Tryss?”
A certain sadness creased the old man’s brow as if he was sorry to speak, to bring it this far, but he said, “The question has arisen of what we owe the prince. The prince of Aselvia. If we aided him, the question should be what does he owe us?”
Tryss sat silently back on the bench, mouth falling open in the same graceful movement. It was a fair question, perhaps, but it seemed vastly unjust and selfish when the fugitives’ plot was so dire.
“There have not been good dealings between the chemas and the elves since the days of true Glory,” the Ancient said, wheezing and clutching his staff with frail fingers. “If we helped the heir to the throne, do none of you see how that could change? The Darkness is on our doorstep. We are now doomed to seek a new home, but where are we to find one? Mid Orim is not the same as it was when I first traveled here, cities of men have arisen and forests are scarce. We would be hard-pressed to find land to welcome us, but in Aselvia there may be room for all.”
“You suggest,” said one of the lesser chieftains, “that we might live in the sacred valley of the elves?” More than a few breaths inhaled at the thought of that, more than a few lips tightened.
“If not that,” the old man amended carefully, “then at least they might show us where we can find sanctuary.”
Uncertainty tearing across his face, Tryss’s father looked to her. His voice wavered as he said, “And she would be safe? Even if he is no danger, darkness dogs his flight and you cannot deny that.”
“Nor can I claim that we are any safer here so near to the heart of Darkness as it spills out in search. She is chema, my son, and may be unseen if she wishes. You taught her the way of the bow and the knife. She is as safe as any we might send.”
“Father.” Tryss struggled to make sure her voice did not falter. She was not certain of this herself, did not wish to think too closely of what it might mean. But if what her grandfather said was true, what choice did she have? And besides…there was a certain thrill to the thought of seeing a world only gazed upon from the highest trees…and rescuing an elf prince…and the children, of whom she was already fond. “Father, I can do this. For our honor and home, I can.”
Deep sadness sank into his lined face, and he exhaled heavily, passing a resentful glance to the Ancient. But when his eyes lifted back to hers, she saw the pride and hope within. “Do so then,” he said. “Do so, my daughter.”
oOo
As Tellie awoke, one thought cleared her mind with bright morning sun.
Today, they journeyed home.
With a squeak of excitement, she scrambled up from the cot and yanked the blankets back into order. But as suddenly as the thrill came, so did the fear, and her hands stilled. Home. What would that mean exactly? It certainly did not mean the Nornes or the orphanage. No, this was a place brand new, and as she already had the heir with her, it wasn’t like she needed to stay at Aselvia in case he showed up. If they didn’t want her anymore, what would she do…?
Shaking away such worries, she focused on the present one. First of all, getting home safely was the trick. She’d never seen many maps but East sounded rather far from West, and if there was an entire ocean between them, how long would they have to sail to cross it?
Only their hosts could answer such questions and maybe Kelm, so she hurried to fix the room as she left it, then darted out into the village center.
Errance was easy to spot, tall and dark among the short, pale people, and for all appearances he stood alone and separate in the world, but as Tellie approached she realized that the Ancient stood near him speaking to him and holding a map with trembling hands.
“Oolum is the nearest port city, only two days walk from here,” the Ancient said. “The bay is narrower here as well, so a voyage to the west side should only be a few days trip. Now, I feel I should warn you that Oolum will be very different from anything you’ve experienced. It’s a prosperous market city, attracting various people from all over the world, full of revelries and pleasures that entice, but do not be deceived, it would only bring you harm.”
“Oh,” Errance said through a hard, short smile. “It may not be very different.”
After the silence became too awkward, he finally cast aside his aloof posture and turned slightly to eye the scrawling on the goat-skin map. “What about if I went by land?”
The Ancient sighed, his wrinkles multiplying. “See for yourself, Your Highness, the way up around the bay would take you over a week. The possibilities of getting caught increase. So as to insure you reach your destination safely, I will provide you with a guide.”
“A guide?” His brow arched, mouth tightening in a subtle sneer. “From what I understand, all you people do is hide in a jungle.”
The Ancient straightened his spine and met the elf’s intense stare squarely. “We go to trade in Oolum from time to time. We are more knowledgeable about this side of the world than a stranger, let alone one cut off from the land for seventy years.”
Tellie paused a few steps away to avoid the crossfire, hiding a little smile. She noticed Kelm already nearby, an interested grin on his face, and he beckoned her over with a toss of his head.
“How long have they been going like this?” she whispered, trotting over.
“Oh, a good while. It took the Ancient forever to even get Errance to talk about the journey.” The boy shook his head, half in exasperation, half in admiration. “Save me, but your elf prince is an ornery fellow.”
“He’s not my elf prince,” she mumbled, looking back to the debate.
“And there is another thing, Your Highness,” the old man continued. “You are not traveling alone. You have Tellie and Kelm to think of.”
Surprise, no matter how brief, flitted across Errance’s face. “They aren’t coming with me.”
Tellie gasped, leaping forward. “We most certainly are!”
Right alongside her protest, the Ancient asked, “Then what exactly do you plan to do with them?”
Uncertainty flushed his cheeks, and he looked away to regather defense. But his stray hair and turned head could not hide the trapped expression that stole across his face, the dawning of unexpected responsibility. Even he must have seen he could not foist the children off on the chemas, far from anything they knew.
“Leoren and Casara offered to take me to Aselvia, and I still intend to go there!” Tellie cried.
“And my master only has routes in the West,” Kelm said, sounding more than a little alarmed. “Look here, Errance, we escaped together and you can’t abandon us now.”
“Fine!” Errance said, the force of his voice silencing them. He took a deep breath to compose himself as he addressed the Ancient. “What do the children have to do with a guide?”
“They are children, just like you said,” replied the old man. “I don’t suppose you’ve had much experience taking care of children, especially two youths with antagonistic attitudes.”
Offended, Tellie opened her mouth to reply, before she saw the Ancient was smiling at her.
Errance ran his fingers across the outlines of the arm still bound against his chest. His gaze was fixed on the ground as if that would help hide his insecurity. “I…I see your point.”
The Ancient plunged ahead. “And then there is cooking, washing, and oh, such other sundry things to do while on a journey.”
The elf hesitated, a struggle flickering across his face. It could not be said what made up his mind, but it was clear when a side finally won, and he lifted his eyes, grim and determined. “Very well. I accept your offer.”
“Wonderful,” the Ancient said happily. “I shall go tell Tryss you’ve agreed.”
“Oh, Tryss is coming?” Tellie exclaimed in delight, but her smile stuttered as Errance stiffened like he’d been whipped.
He took one hard step after the Ancient. “No woman,” he hissed, “is accompanying m
e.”
The old man faltered, his wrinkles caving in sudden alarm. He turned sharply and looked deep into Errance’s eyes, deeper than the elf preferred if his retreating step back was any indication. But whatever the Ancient saw in those flaming blue depths turned his expression to an overwhelming and profound pity.
When he spoke, his voice was cheerful and kind, “Ah, but my dear boy, you already have a young lady with you.”
Errance blinked and he glanced down at Tellie in confusion. “But…” he stammered. “She’s just a girl.”
Flushing, Tellie straightened and tried to look as grown-up as possible.
“Maidens are married and mothers by her age in some parts of the land,” the Ancient reminded.
Tellie blushed even redder, especially at Kelm’s snort, not so skillfully turned into a cough. Errance muttered something about “idiotic.” She could only hope he was talking about the practice and not her.
“So,” the old man concluded, “it is most improper for a young lady to accompany two young men on such a long journey. Oh, I know she has nothing to fear from you both, very nice gentlemen you are no doubt, but the fact is neither of you men know how to cope with a young woman’s needs. Tellie most certainly needs another female with her. And Tryss is perfectly adequate to care for you all.”
“She will care for the children,” Errance bit. “Not me.”
“Of course, of course,” the Ancient said amiably. “Now is it all settled?”
Tellie did not think herself particularly cunning, but she knew a shrewd mind when she saw one and it seemed to her as if she watched dozens of possibilities and routes and plans and escapes dash through Errance’s eyes. But it was all gone in a moment, and there only remained that same cold fear that ever froze the surface.
A shiver ran through his shoulders. But his chin dipped in a firm and decisive nod.
Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1) Page 17