Fires of Azeroth (25 page)

"Friends of yours."

"Once. Maybe still. -
Arrhendim, Iher nthim ahallya Men-rani"

There was no response. "You are full of surprises," Roh said.

"Be still," he answered. His voice shook, for he was very tired, and the silence dismayed him. If the
arrhendim
themselves had turned against him, then there was no hope.

"Khemeis."
The voice came from behind him.

He turned. A Man stood there, a
khemeis.
It was not any that he knew.

"Come."

He began to do so, bringing Roh with him. The
khemeis
melted back into the forest, and when they had reached that place there was no sign that he had stood there. They walked farther into the shadow.

Suddenly a white-haired
qhal
shifted into their view, from the shadow of the trees. His bow was bent, and a brown-feathered arrow was aimed at them.

"I am Lellin Erirrhen's friend," Vanye said. "And
khemeis
to Morgaine. This man is my cousin."

The arrow did not waver. "Where is Lellin?"

Then his heart sank, and he leaned on his staff, little caring whether the arrow was fired.

"Where is Lellin?"

"With my lady. And I do not know. I hoped that the
arrhendim
would."

"Your cousin bears lord Merir's safe-passage. But that is good only for him who bears it."

"Take us to Merir. I have an accounting to give him for his grandson."

Slowly the arrow was lowered and eased from the bowstring. "We will take you where we please. One of you does not have leave to be here. Which?"

"I," Roh confessed, lifting the amulet from his neck. He gave it into Vanye's hand.

"You will both come with me."

Vanye nodded when Roh looked question at him; and he hung the amulet again about his neck and, heavily, limped in the
qhal's
wake.

There was no stopping until long after dark; and then the
arrhendim
halted and settled among the roots of a large tree. Vanye sank down, Roh beside him, tucked his good leg up and rested against it, exhausted. But Roh shook at him after a moment. "They offer us food and drink," Roh said.

Vanye bestirred himself and took it, small appetite as he had now; afterward he leaned against the base of a tree and gazed at the
arrhendim . . .
two now, for the
khemeis
had joined them.

"Do you know nothing of where Lellin or my lady is?" Vanye asked them.

"We will not answer," said the
qhal.

"Do you count us enemies?"

"We will not answer."

Vanye shook his head and abandoned hope with them, rested his head against the bark.

"Sleep," said the
qhal,
and spread his cloak and wrapped in it, becoming one with the tree against which he leaned; but the
khemeis
vanished quietly into the brush.

There was a different
qhal
and a different
khemeis
in the morning. Vanye looked at them, blinked, disturbed that they had shifted about so silently. Roh cast him a sidelong glance no less disturbed.

"I am Tirrhen," said the
qhal.
"My
khemeis
is Haim. We will take you farther."

"Nhi Vanye and Chya Roh," Vanye replied. "Where?"

The
qhal
shrugged. "Come."

"You are more courteous than the last," Roh said, and took Vanye's arm, helping him rise.

"They are Mirrind's guardians," Tirrhen replied. "Would you expect joy of them?"

And Tirrhen turned his back and vanished, so that it was Haim who walked with them a time. "Be silent," the
khemeis
said when Roh ventured to speak; it was all he said. They walked all the day save brief rests, and Vanye flung himself down at the mid-afternoon stop and lay still a good moment before he had caught his breath, eyes blurred and half-closed.

Roh's hand touched his. "Take the armor off. I shall carry it. You are done, otherwise."

He rolled over and began to do so, while Roh helped him. The
khemeis
watched, and finally offered them food and drink, although they had had a little at noon.

"We have sent for horses," Haim said. Vanye nodded, relieved at that.

"There is no word," Vanye said again, trying another approach, "what became of my party."

"No. Not that we know. And we know what there is to be known in this part of Shathan."

"But others might have contact elsewhere." Hope sprang up in him, swiftly killed by Harm's grim look.

"What there is of news is not good,
khemeis.
I understand your grief. I have said too much. Get up and let us be going."

He did so, with Roh's help. The lack of the armor was relief. He made it until nightfall before he was utterly winded and halted in his tracks.

It was Tirrhen with them now, and not Haim; and Tirrhen showed no intention of stopping. "Come," he said. "Come on."

Roh flung an arm about him and steadied him. They followed Tirrhen until Roh himself was staggering badly.

Then a clearing lay ahead of them in the starlight, and four
arrhendim
waited with six horses. "They mean we should keep going," Roh said, and his voice nigh broke.

Vanye looked, and knew none of them. He was helped to one of the saddleless horses, which was haltered only, and led by one of the
arrhendim.
Roh mounted the other without their help, and silently the party started to move.

Vanye leaned forward and rested against the horse's neck, instinct and habit keeping him astride over rough ground and through winding trails. The pain subsided to something bearable. The horse's patient strength comforted him. He slept at times, though once it cost him a braise on a low branch: he bent back under it and slumped forward again, little the worse for it among so many other hurts. They moved through the night like shadows, and by morning they had reached another clearing, where more horses waited for them, with another escort.

He did not even dismount, but leaned, grasped a mane, and drew himself to the other horse. The party started forward, with no offering to them of food or water. Vanye ceased even to care, although such was finally offered at noon, without stopping. He rode numbly, silent as their escort was silent. Roh was still there, some distance behind ... he saw that when he would look back.
Arrhendim
rode between them so that they could not speak to each other. They had not been disarmed, he realized at last, which heartened him; he trusted that Roh still had his armor and his weapons, for Roh had his own. He himself was beyond using any, and wished only for a cloak, for he was cold, even in daylight.

He asked finally, recalling that these were
qhal,
not Hetharu's halfling breed, and not by nature cruel. He was given a blanket to wrap himself in as they rode, and they offered him food and drink besides, all with little delay in their riding. Only twice in the day did they dismount even for a moment. At nightfall there was another change of horses, and new guides took over. Vanye returned the blanket, but the
qhal
gently put it back about him and sent him on into the night with the new guides. The
arrhendim
who had them in charge now were more than gentle with them, as if their condition aroused pity in them; but again at dawn, mercilessly, they were passed to others, and both of them now had to be helped to mount.

Vanye had no memory of how many changes there had been; it all merged into nightmare. There were always whistles and sounds about them now, as if they rode some well-marked highroad in the wood, one well-watched . . . but none of those watchers came into their view.

The trees here loomed up monstrous in size, of different sort than they had seen. The trunks were like walls beside them, and the place existed in shade that made it always twilight.

Night settled on them in that place, a starless dark beneath that canopy of branches; but there was the scent of smoke in the air, and one of their horses whinnied a greeting to another.

Light gleamed. Vanye braced his hands on the horse's moving shoulders, and stared at that soft glow, at the assemblage of tents gathered amid those great trunks, color showing in the firelight. He blinked through tears of exhaustion, fragmenting the image.

"Merir's camp?" he asked of the Man who led his horse.

"He has sent for you," that Man said, but no more would he say.

Music drifted to them,
qhalur
and beautiful. It died at their coming. Folk left the common-fire and stood as a dark line of shadows along the course that they rode into camp.

The
arrhendim
stopped and bade them dismount. Vanye slid down holding the mane, and needed the bracing of two
arrhendim
to keep his feet as they guided him, for his legs were weak and the ceaseless motion of the horses still ruled his senses, so that the very earth seemed to heave under him.

"Khemeis!"

A cry went up. A small body impacted his and embraced him. He stopped, freed a shaking hand and touched the dark head that rested against his heart. It was Sin.

"How did you come here?" he asked the boy, out of a thousand questions that he wondered, the only one that made clear sense.

The wiry arms did not let him go; small hands clenched in the sides of his shirt as the
arrhendim
urged him to start walking, and drew him on. "Carrhend moved," Sin said. "Riders came. It burned."

"Go away, lad," said the
khemeis
at the right-gently. "Go away."

"I came," Sin said; his hands did not unclench. "I went into the forest to find the
qhal.
They brought me here."

"Did Sezar come back? Or Lellin?"

"No. Ought they? Where is the lady?"

"Leave him," said the
khemeis.
"Lad-do as you are told."

"Go away from me," Vanye said heavily. "Sin, I am not in good favor with your people. Go away as he tells you."

The hands relaxed, withdrew. Sin lagged behind. But then as he walked Vanye caught sight of him, staying to one side, trailing them forlornly. He walked, for they would not let him do otherwise, to Merir's tent. They brought him at once inside, but Roh was left behind: he did not realize that until he was faced about in front of Merir's chair.

The old
qhal
sat wrapped in a plain gray cloak, and his eyes were sad, glittering in the light of the lamps. "Let him go," Merir said; they did, gently, and Vanye sank down to one knee and bowed himself to the mat in respect.

"You are sorely hurt," Merir said.

It was not the opening he had expected of the old lord, whose grandson was lost, whose line was threatened, whose land was invaded. Vanye bowed again, shaking with exhaustion, and sat back. "I do not know where Lellin is," he said hoarsely. "I want leave to go, my lord, to find him and my lady."

Merir's brows contracted. The old lord was not alone in the tent; grim armed Men and
qhal
were about him, force at need; and there were the elders, whose eyes were darkened with anger. But Merir's frown held more of pain than of wrath. "You do not know the state of things here. We know that you crossed the Narn. And after that, the
harilim,
the dark ones . . . have severed us from the region. Is it not so, that you went to find Nehmin?"

"Yes, lord."

"Because your lady would have it so, against my wishes. Because she was set on this thing; and warnings would not deter her. Now Lellin is gone, and Sezar; and she is lost; and war is upon us." The anger did come, and stilled, and the gray eyes brooded in the lamplight, lifted slowly once more. "I saw all these things in her. I saw in you only what I see now. Tell me,
Khemeis,
all that happened. I shall hear you. Tell me everything and spare no detail. It may be that some tiny scrap of knowledge will help us understand the rest"