3 When Darkness Falls.8 (32 page)

He hoped what he told the boy was still true.

When the tea was poured, and a cup of cider had been mulled for Sandalon, Jermayan sensed that they would soon be coming to the reason that Ashaniel had summoned him.

Sandalon seemed to sense it, too. He finished his drink in a few inelegant gulps and looked appealingly at his mother. She smiled and reached out to ruffle his short dark hair.

"I think it is time for you to go and play
gan
with Lairamo for a little while, my heart. And then Jermayan will need you to show him the way back to Master Tyrvin's chambers, or else he will wander here for a very long time."

Sandalon actually looked grateful to be excused, while the boy Jermayan had known of old would have teased to be allowed to stay and listen in on the conversation of the adults.

"Do you rea — I mean, thank you for allowing me to be of service to you, Jermayan." The boy made a deep and surprisingly-practiced bow.

"It is my honor and my pleasure as well, Sandalon," Jermayan replied.

Lairamo took Sandalon's hand and led him from the room, through a door that was not the one through which Jermayan had entered. The door was flanked by tall painted windows showing a vista of imaginary rooftops, mountains, and a long sweep of flower-starred green. Spring.

Jermayan hardly dared to imagine what horrors this spring would bring.

Ashaniel settled herself more comfortably and refilled both their cups.

"Now," she said, a hint of winter's ice in her voice. "Truth will make good hearing."

Jermayan stared at her in surprise. Ashaniel raised her eyebrows.

"Master Tyrvin assures me that we are all quite safe. One presumes that he is training children of six to wield a dagger because we are all quite safe. One presumes also that he must think that Magarabeleniel has suddenly been wreft of the power of speech — oh, she is no fool, as you know, to spread her news everywhere, but certainly she spoke to me. And so has every woman from every city that you have ferried here."

"Perhaps," Jermayan said quietly, "you know more than I."

"Perhaps," Ashaniel said unrelentingly. "And if you tell me what you know, we may be certain of it."

Jermayan bowed his head, acknowledging defeat. "I think I may not know as much as you, Lady Ashaniel, since for nearly two moonturns Ancaladar and I have been flying among the Nine Cities, and our only news is fragmentary and long out of date. Of Lerkalpoldara you know as much as I. You know, too, that Deskethomayel and Windalorianan have been evacuated, their inhabitants sent south. I know that none of them went to Ondoladeshiron, for I have just come from there, and I only hope they reached what destinations they chose safely. There was fear of both plague and blight in Windalorianan when I was there, and also of ancient Allies of the Enemy breaching our northern borders. Because of the Shadowed Elves, Their creatures already roam our land freely: serpentmarae, ice-drakes, and Coldwarg, despoiling the land of both game and herd, and tainting what it feeds upon. Coldwarg I saw myself on our flight here."

Ashaniel nodded in reluctant approval of this summary. "It is much as I have heard. And so we fall back upon our young cities in the west, and surrender the north to the darkness. Victory, it seems, lies outside our borders, in who claims the allegiance of the Mage City, and when. But I must know what lies within your thoughts, Jermayan, and if it seems to you that it is possible that the High Mages will come to listen to us in time to save themselves and us."

Jermayan hesitated. He wanted to tell her that certainly Armethalieh would come to its senses and ally itself with the Children of Leaf and Star as Men had with Elves in the last Great War.

But not even Kellen had faith in that, though Kellen believed the Light would win this war.

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no," Jermayan said at last. "Kellen believes that whatever path the Golden City chooses, the Light can yet prevail."

"But I would hear your thoughts, not what Kellen believes," Ashaniel reminded him softly.

"It is… too soon to say," Jermayan said, after a long silence had grown between them. "The human High Mage Cilarnen reminds us of something we had nearly forgotten — that Armethalieh, too, remembers the ancient Enemy. The war has not yet touched the human city. When it does, it may well be that they awaken to their true danger and fight, for all that Anigrel High Mage has done to make them blind and unaware."

"So… 'the Wild Magic goes as it wills'?" the Queen quoted with a faint smile.

"Kellen Knight-Mage has often been right before. And he feels we are closer to victory than we have ever yet been," Jermayan said honestly.

"But all know that Kellen has two selves," Ashaniel said, touching once again on many of the Elves' greatest worry. "It would be good to know which speaks: the human boy or the Knight-Mage. We all hope. But I must
know
."

Jermayan shook his head decisively. "Once, at the beginning, before Kellen knew what it was to be a Knight-Mage, before any of us knew what the cost of this war was to be… yes, then he had two selves and either might speak. But the fires of war have burned the boy to ash, and only the Knight-Mage speaks now."

"Then the Knight-Mage believes there is a chance for victory," Ashaniel said, resting her hand lightly against her stomach.

"One thing Kellen has never done well is evade the truth. It is wholly entertaining to watch him try. The Wild Magic speaks to him. If he believed anything other than what he has said, I would know. And I would not have come to see you at all."

His words caused Ashaniel to go completely still for a moment. Then she smiled — the first genuine peaceful smile Jermayan had seen since he had entered her chamber.

"Then fare you well, Jermayan, and a swift and serene journey to you. May our victory come swiftly, and at a price no higher than any of us can bear."

"May Leaf and Star grant that it be so," Jermayan said, getting to his feet.

* * * * *

SANDALON escorted him through the labyrinthine corridors of the Fortress of the Crowned Horns. In contrast to his earlier silence, the boy chattered along now, pointing out landmarks of his games and — now — talking about friends and playfellows.

"Aralmar is very slow. She is in my group — we're the Badgers — but she never hides fast enough, and Master Tyrvin says we are not to help each other hide lest we be caught ourselves."

He looked at Jermayan questioningly.

"I suppose if those are Master Tyrvin's orders, you must obey them. He was my master once, and he is very wise. Still, if you can help Aralmar so that she can hide faster, and keep anyone from catching you at it, that would be a very clever thing to do. And since Master Tyrvin is teaching you to be clever, it would be hard for him to object."

Sandalon beamed, and even skipped a few steps. Then he slowed again. "Mama is very sad," he said.

"I think perhaps she will be less sad now," Jermayan said. He only hoped Kellen never found out that he'd told Ashaniel that they were going to win because Kellen said they were going to win. He wasn't entirely certain how Kellen would react.

"Because we're — " Sandalon began excitedly, then managed to stop. "I mean, it would be good to know how much longer we'll have to remain here."

"I'm sorry, Sandalon," Jermayan said. "I truly don't know."

* * * * *

SANDALON stopped before a familiar door. "I will leave you here, of your courtesy," he said, with carefully-acquired manners.

"I thank you for your company on the way," Jermayan answered, equally formally. He waited until the boy was out of sight before knocking at Master Tyrvin's door.

After a moment, Tyrvin opened it. "Enter and be welcome," he said, stepping aside to allow Jermayan to pass.

"I will not keep you overlong," Tyrvin said without preamble, "for I am certain Ancaladar will not thank me for it. Yet I will be grateful for all that you wish to tell."

Jermayan bowed in acknowledgment. "You will rejoice, I am certain, to know that you will only see me once more. I fly once from Ysterialpoerin, and then you may seal the Fortress until our victory."

"I do not doubt this to be a matter much upon Ashaniel's mind," Tyrvin commented.

"I hope I brought her comfort. I could say to her only what I have said to you, and what Kellen Knight-Mage has said to Redhelwar: that he believes we may prevail."

"Let our victory come before high summer, then," Tyrvin said bluntly. "We are adequately provisioned, but we cannot hold out past that. And from all you have told me of what roams the land, it will not be possible to resupply us."

Jermayan shook his head in reluctant agreement. "No supply caravan can reach you safely overland, even in the spring. The Coldwarg will retreat with the snows, but
They
have other creatures who do not fear the warmth. And you will not dare to unbar your doors lest any who come be the Enemy in disguise."

"True enough," Tyrvin said. "You and Ancaladar I know cannot be impersonated by
Them
. But few others."

There was a long moment of silence, filled with the things neither Knight wished to say aloud.

"You must go now," Tyrvin said at last. "I will walk you to the gate."

* * * * *

"BRIEF, were you?" Ancaladar scoffed. He got to his feet and fanned his wings, shaking nonexistent drifts of snow from them.

"As brief as was suitable," Jermayan said. He brushed crusted snow from the stirrup and vaulted into Ancaladar's saddle, pulling the riding-straps into place with the ease of long practice.

Ancaladar lumbered through the snow, bounding down the long slope that led away from the Fortress, his wings folded tightly against his back as he built up speed. Snow and shards of ice-crust sprayed up around him to either side in wide fans.

When he was running flat-out, he spread his wings with a sudden snap, and was pulled from the ground. For the first few yards, the dragon struggled for height, wings fanning, but then he found the wind he'd been seeking and gained height quickly in a series of sharp zig-zagging motions, until he'd reached what he considered a safe height above the ground.

"And now?" Ancaladar asked, once he was soaring smoothly through the sky.

"Ysterialpoerin," Jermayan answered. "But I wish to go to the camp first, and speak to Redhelwar."

"And Idalia," the dragon said smugly.

* * * * *

KELLEN'S scouts had brought more reports of plague in the days that followed, until he ordered his scouts to stay away from settlements entirely. He dared not risk losing any of his troops to sickness out here in the cold waste, especially with the mountains still to cross.

They lost a fortnight camped at the foot of the Mystrals as a winter storm raged over them. To attempt to ascend the mountains in such weather would be

purest suicide, but though the delay was unavoidable, it gnawed at Kellen's nerves. At least they'd be able to stop at Ondoladeshiron to resupply, and to get out of the weather for a day or so, and from there the journey to Halacira and on to Sentarshadeen should be fairly easy going. The weather should be milder too, at least by comparison.

At last the weather broke, and the army moved on.

When they entered the mountains, Kellen rode far ahead of everyone, for Shalkan, sure-footed as a mountain goat and light-footed as only a unicorn could be, blazed the trail through the passes for the snow-sledge to follow. The unicorn was able to tell where the ice would bear the weight of the carts and horses, and where it would crack and fissure, trapping the heavy, slow-moving oxen. The two of them searched the slopes above for the treacherous, precariously-balanced weights of snow that might at any moment cascade into a deadly snow-spill, crushing men and animals beneath tons of snow and ice.

Most of all, both Knight-Mage and unicorn strained their senses to detect the Enemy's creatures. The high cold realms were their natural habitat, and the narrow mountain passes were the perfect spot for an ambush.

* * * * *

"ARE you sure this is the smartest thing we've ever done?" Kellen asked, trying to keep the uneasiness out of his voice.

It was their seventh day in the mountains, and so far they had encountered no living things at all. Kellen distrusted the quiet; in his time with the army, he had gained the soldier's dislike of too much good fortune. It always seemed to mean that some particularly bad stroke of luck was about to fall.

And so far, they'd been far too lucky. Only a few cases of frost-burn, some snow-dazzle, and a bit of mountain-sickness, all of which the Wildmages — all from the High Reaches — had warned him to expect. They'd run out of fresh meat during the storm, but they still had enough provisions to make Ondoladeshiron.

Much too easy,
Kellen thought grimly.
And I know
They
know we're here. Why aren't
They
trying to stop us?

He had the sense that
Their
attention was elsewhere, that
They
weren't paying attention to him because
They
felt
They
didn't need to. Either
Their
attacks and defenses had been put into place long ago, or
They
were concentrating
Their
attentions on something
They
thought was far more important than destroying a third of the Elven Army.