Swords Over Fireshore (27 page)

Luruthin lowered his bow. Kelevon was out of sight, now, lost among the trees. Becoming aware of the sound of anguished weeping, he looked down and saw Eliani on her knees beside Felahran. She turned him on his side, and blood oozed from around the knife in his throat.

The smell of blood smote Luruthin again, so powerfully he gave a small gasp. Looking around, he saw Onami lying crumpled, her blood melting the snow around her. Vanorin had struggled to his feet and was coming toward Eliani.

A powerful cramp gripped Luruthin's stomach. He was empty, and suddenly desperately hungry, and for a wild moment the blood smelled like food. Swallowing, he shook his head and took a step toward Eliani and Vanorin.

Vanorin was speaking. “You cannot help him. He is gone.”

Eliani raised a tear-streaked face. “Onami?”

Vanorin shook his head, then glanced up at Luruthin. “We need to move them. Can you help?”

Luruthin nodded, though he felt faint with hunger. He slung his bow at his back, and the three of them moved Felahran and Jhathali up to the side of the cliff where they had camped, laying them beside Birani.

Vanorin took a small woodcutter's knife from his pack and they went out to gather wood, staying together, watching and listening, keeping close to the camp. They worked in silence.

Luruthin's thoughts went from grief to anger to fear that Kelevon would attack again, or had gone to fetch others. Vanorin seemed to fear that as well, for he pushed for speed. He cut down dead saplings whole and Eliani and Luruthin dragged them up to the camp, stacking them to make a pyre. When Vanorin judged they had enough, he and Eliani prepared the three bodies for burning, taking their swords and pouches to carry away.

Luruthin sat against the rock wall, arms across his anguished stomach as he watched. The blood smell pervaded his awareness, making it hard to think of anything else. He considered trying to eat, but though he was hungry his stomach rebelled at the thought of food. He took a few sips of water instead, which eased him a little.

Vanorin summoned him to help lay the dead across the pyre. Luruthin's arms trembled as together they lifted the three fallen guardians one by one. He, Vanorin, and Eliani stood gazing at them for a moment, then Vanorin looked at Eliani, who coughed and spoke.

“Spirits, welcome those who have left this flesh to cross into your realm. Birani, Onami, and Felahran. Their service shall be remembered. May they walk in light henceforward.”

The last words came out sounding strangled. Fresh tears streaked her cold-reddened cheeks. Vanorin wept silently as well, and Luruthin felt his own tears falling, drawing lines of cold down his face.

Eliani raised her hands toward the pyre. Vanorin and Luruthin did likewise. Luruthin felt khi stinging in the air as the three of them summoned fire within the dry wood.

The pyre burst into flame. Luruthin stumbled back from the sudden heat. Feeling weak, he backed against the cliff wall and sank to the ground once more.

Eliani glanced over her shoulder at him, then returned her gaze to the fire. Vanorin went into the hollow. Luruthin could hear him moving behind the blankets, going through the packs, consolidating supplies.

They must leave here. They could not stay, nor did Luruthin wish to stay and watch the flesh of their companions burn to ash. He looked southward, though he could not see very far toward their goal. His gaze drifted upward, to the sky filled with shining stars. Did their friends walk up there, now, among the stars?

No, the spirit realm was not among the stars, though the custom was to look skyward when speaking of spirits. He thought again of his daughter's voice, and remembered the eyes that he believed she had shown him.

With a start he sat up. Golden eyes! Steppegard eyes, Kelevon's! She had been trying to warn him.

Kelevon's eyes were still golden, Luruthin thought, frowning as he tried to remember. The traitor's hair had gone half-white, though. He was becoming alben.

Sickened, Luruthin leaned back against the rock again. That one who had been ælven could attack his own kind so brutally horrified him. With bitterness he remembered Kelevon's past unkindness to Eliani—trivial compared with what he had done this night, but indicative that cruelty was part of his nature. In that sense he had been like the alben all along.

Vanorin emerged. Luruthin was surprised to see him empty-handed. Vanorin glanced at him and summoned him with a gesture. Luruthin got to his feet, pausing as a cramp seized his gut.

“Let us place a stone where Birani fell.”

Slowly Eliani turned her head to look at Vanorin, then nodded. “No need for one here. This place we will remember.”

The three of them walked back to the spot where Birani had been killed. Compared with where the others had fallen near the cliff, there was less blood here.

Kelevon had drunk it, Luruthin realized with a fierce pang of anger. Immediately another cramp bent him nearly double. Vanorin looked at him sharply, but Luruthin shook his head as the cramp passed. He straightened, and helped Vanorin and Eliani roll a small boulder to the place where Birani had died.

The effort left him dizzy and winded. Eliani placed a hand on his shoulder, her face concerned. Khi blazed through him at her touch. He closed his eyes, letting it flow through him, wanting more. It did ease him somewhat.

“We must go.” Vanorin's voice.

Luruthin opened his eyes, feeling a stab of anger though he knew Vanorin was right. In silence he followed the others back to the hollow.

The pyre was melting snow from all the trees nearby. The space before the hollow was wet, and the water had begun to soak into the bottom edges of the hanging blankets. Vanorin pushed one aside and fetched out three packs, two of them heavily loaded. He handed the lightest to Luruthin, along with a sword in its scabbard on a belt.

“Felahran's. You might as well have the use of it.”

Luruthin nodded and strapped on the belt while Vanorin strapped Jhathali's sword to his own back. Eliani used Birani's scabbard to hold her own sword, tossing her makeshift sling of tangled net onto the pyre, and wrapped Birani's blade in a blanket before tying it to her back. She shouldered her pack over it, and her bow and quiver over them.

Luruthin lifted his own pack, bow, and quiver. He knew Vanorin had made his burden as light as possible, but with the added weight of the leathers he wore, he felt weary before they had even begun to march.

Vanorin left the blankets hanging and the spare supplies behind them. He handed a walking stick to Luruthin and one to Eliani, keeping a third for himself.

They paused to gaze at the pyre once more, now so hot they could not come within an armspan of it. At last Vanorin turned away, starting southward.

“Come.”

Eliani gestured to Luruthin to go second, but Luruthin shook his head. Kelevon was roaming these woods, and Eliani's back should be protected. He managed a smile.

“I will shout if I cannot keep up, or perhaps you will hear me tumble down the slope.”

“You look pale. Are you well?”

“Not very, but I will manage.”

He took three long swallows from his water flask and left it slung at his hip. The water churned in his stomach as he walked, but eased the hunger pangs somewhat.

As before, Vanorin tested the ground ahead with his stick. The snow was not too deep, but their progress was slow. Even so, Luruthin soon found himself lagging behind. He glanced eastward and saw the dawn beginning to lighten the horizon's edge. He pushed himself forward, straining to catch up to the others.

Vanorin and Eliani paused at the top of a ridge. Luruthin saw Vanorin pointing southward, and as he reached them the captain turned to glance at him. Breathing hard, Luruthin saw a river glinting cold in the valley below. Not the Basarindel, he knew. Some lesser watercourse.

Vanorin looked at him. “The spring is on the far side. Can you continue?”

“Yes, if you will give me a moment to catch my breath.”

Realizing that his legs were trembling, Luruthin sat down. He pulled off his pack, knowing he would not be able to stand again with it on his back.

Eliani sat beside him and opened her own pack, taking out a pouch of dried fruit. She offered one to Luruthin. He took it and raised it to his mouth, but the smell repelled him and his stomach clenched in protest. Shaking his head, he gave it back.

“You must eat. Some meat?”

“No. Not now.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. They could not stay in this high place. Too cold, too exposed. He thought about reaching the river. That much he could manage, and then he would think about the next goal.

Vanorin's footsteps roused him. Opening his eyes, he saw the captain returning toward them from the east.

“I find no sign of Kelevon behind us, or below. I think he has gone.”

Eliani's face hardened. “I should have killed him. He used khi as a weapon! I was so surprised....”

“He will not surprise us again.”

“No.” Eliani looked up at the captain. “What did he do to you?”

Vanorin's face went grim. “As you said, he used khi.”

Remembering how Shalár had done the same to him, Luruthin shuddered. It was an outrageous invasion, painful and terrifying. A horrible distortion of what should be a respectful intimacy.

“It is plain that he cares nothing for the creed.” Vanorin glanced at Luruthin. “None of us goes anywhere alone.”

Luruthin nodded. Even if Kelevon was not following them, they were vulnerable to other dangers. A catamount might attack a solitary ælven. Kobalen in any numbers would not hesitate to strike.

“Perhaps we should turn east and make for the road.”

Eliani sighed wearily. “We must cross this river in any case. Let us cross it high, where it will be smaller. Let us find the spring, then we can decide.”

“Very well.”

Vanorin glanced toward Luruthin. Suppressing a groan, Luruthin stood up, pausing for a moment to get his balance. He looked down at the river. The descent was steep, but not too far. He thought he could manage it. He hoped so.

He drank a little more water, then lifted his burdens. His calves complained as the party started downward. The snow was deeper here, under the shade of the thick evergreen forest. Vanorin broke a trail for them, turning across and across the steep slope. He paused at every turn to let Luruthin catch up.

Each step seemed to jolt Luruthin's aching knees. He felt numbness beginning to claim his mind, the same sort of weariness he had felt as they fled through the darkwood forest.

By the time they neared the river the sky was growing light, the glow of dawn visible between tall treetops. A roaring sound was growing in the back of Luruthin's awareness. He thought at first that it was caused by weariness, but when Vanorin paused to await him, he saw that the others heard the sound as well.

They were pointing eastward, nodding in agreement. As Luruthin reached them Vanorin looked at him.

“A waterfall. We are near its head. Eliani would like to view it, if you agree.”

Luruthin shrugged slightly, then shifted his pack to ease an ache in one shoulder. He was too weary to be charmed by the thought of admiring a waterfall, but would be glad of any chance to rest.

Vanorin started eastward, no longer turning but making steady progress downward toward the river. The roaring grew louder, much louder, then suddenly Luruthin could see the water ahead through the trees, looking black in the shadow of the valley. The river was perhaps three rods across, flowing level and silent toward its fall.

They turned to walk along its course. Ice dripped into the river from the snowy bank. A cool breeze blew across the water, and the glow of the coming sun increased above the mountain ridge on the far side. Luruthin found himself blinking at its brightness.

They reached the top of the cascade and paused to look down. The water poured over a shelf of rock that stretched over openness for perhaps a rod, the space behind it broken back, as if some softer rock beneath the shelf was crumbling away. Eventually the shelf would break and fall. Looking down, Luruthin saw huge blades of rock from earlier collapses in the pool below, vanishing and reappearing out of the drifting mist.

The sight made him dizzy and he took a step backward. The cascade was not the highest he had even seen, nor the most powerful, but it was troubling enough. Water always disrupted khi, and so much water churning with such force made him feel out of balance.

Eliani looked at him. “It is higher than the Three Shades, I think.”

Though her voice was casual her words sent a shock ringing through Luruthin's soul as he remembered the last time he had been at the Shades. Vanorin met his gaze and Luruthin saw that he remembered as well.

They had been together, on that twilit evening when they had seen one of the shades that gave the falls its name. A vivid memory returned to Luruthin of watching the maiden in white leap into the falls, then drift with impossible peacefulness in the churning waters of the pool before fading into its dark, cold depths.

The vision had terrified them, and even now fear and bewilderment returned to shake Luruthin. Heléri had said that it was the shade of Josæli, who had leapt to her death in the falls many centuries before. She had also told them that the appearance of a shade was often a response to some great disturbance of khi, and that a shade had appeared in the falls before the first Midrange War.

Well, now there had been another battle at Midrange. Luruthin wondered if that had been what summoned the shade, or if she had appeared in response to something more immediate, in response to the fate that awaited him and Vanorin in Fireshore.

Shuddering, he turned away from the falls, walking upstream a few paces to where the roar was somewhat less overpowering. Here the water was silent as it glided toward its violent descent. Silent and black. He glanced across the valley and winced at the brightness of the coming sunrise.