Swords Over Fireshore (30 page)

“This will be the proof of it. Not that proof is needed.”

She waited for Vanorin to put on his bracer and they returned to the cave together. Luruthin was sitting exactly as she had left him, staring into the fire. She cleared her throat, feeling awkward about making this offer.

“Luruthin...”

She could not continue. Instead she came toward him, knelt beside him, and held out the cup.

He stared at it, his nostrils flaring, eyes widening as he realized what it was. His gaze flew up to meet hers.

“No!”

“It is done. You need sustenance. We have a hard journey ahead.”

“Eliani—”

“This is our gift to you. Vanorin's and mine.”

An anguished frown wrought his brow as his gaze shifted back to the blood. His mouth fell open and his eyes sharpened with need. His breathing was shallow. He shook his head, even as he reached for the cup.

Eliani wrapped her fingers around his, steadying his hand. He brought the cup to his lips, gave her a horrified glance, then closed his eyes and drank.

After the first cautious sip he lunged forward, gulping at the rest, nearly spilling it. Fear tingled through Eliani as she helped him drink. This was not her beloved cousin, this being with such animal need. He tipped the cup upward to drain it, then let go and sat back, gasping.

Eliani set the empty cup down beside the fire and watched Luruthin catch his breath, amazed at how swiftly color came into his cheeks. His pallor of the last few days vanished. He gazed at her from eyes more clear than they had been in days, clear and filled with wonder.

“Oh.”

Eliani glanced at Vanorin. Very rarely did the captain betray surprise, but it was on his face now as he gazed at Luruthin.

The frown that Luruthin had worn so constantly of late was gone. He sat up straighter and rolled his shoulders as if to ease some stiffness, showing none of his recent weakness as he looked from her to Vanorin.

“Thank you.” Luruthin's voice was notably stronger. “And please do not do that again.”

He stood up, stretching, then went to the cave's mouth. Eliani got to her feet.

“Luruthin...”

“Do not worry, Cousin. I will not waste your gift.”

Eliani hastened to the entrance and stood watching as Luruthin walked to the edge of the pool. Snow caught in his hair and on the leathers he wore. He looked up at the falling flakes, laughed softly, then began to take off the leathers.

Vanorin joined Eliani in the entrance. They watched Luruthin strip, then gather the leathers and his clothing and carry them back to the cave. He grinned as he heaped them in the entrance.

“Out of the snow.” He turned and went back to the pool, walking straight into it up to his waist.

Eliani caught her breath just thinking of bathing in that icy water. Luruthin shook out his hair, then dove beneath the surface.

They watched him swim around in the pool for a short while, then come dripping back to the cave, his cheeks reddened with cold, his eyes bright. He stood by the fire, shaking out his wet hair over the rising heat.

“Perhaps we should start before the snow becomes deep. We have half the night, we can make good progress.”

Eliani traded a glance with Vanorin. “Which way do you mean to go?”

Luruthin looked at her in surprise as he pulled on a boot. “To Alpinon, of course.”

Eliani drew a breath. “We thought perhaps it would be best to return to the Lost's camp.”

Luruthin looked confused, then dismayed as he took her meaning. “Oh. I see. I was thinking of the Council.”

He looked so hurt, Eliani was smitten with remorse. “You might travel with Othanin and Kivhani to the Council. They do not know the roads.”

He nodded, then turned away, reaching for his pack. He took his water skin and Eliani's flask out to the pool.

Eliani gazed after him. “I am such a clumsy wretch.”

Vanorin picked up a blanket and began folding it. “There was no gentle way to say it.”

Eliani gathered her own belongings. Hiking through a snowfall was not her preferred way to spend the night, but as Luruthin could not travel by day, there was no other choice. She was glad he felt well enough to move, instead of needing more rest. One less day lost.

The Trade Road

 

R
ephanin sat a short distance apart from the army. Ehranan had called a brief halt where a stream crossed the road. Westward, the mountain peaks were shrouded in cloud. Here on the plains the sky was clear, stars glittering coldly and a chill wind cutting through Rephanin's cloak. He drew it closer.

His body ached in unaccustomed places, even after several days of riding. He bore it silently, knowing his own softness was the cause. Had he been told a year ago that he would make a march like this, he would have laughed aloud.

Filari sat beside him, still sullen but less wary. She surprised him by raising a new topic. “You are from Eastfæld, are you not?”

“In mindspeech, Filari.”

Your pardon. Are you from Eastfæld, my lord?

Long ago, yes.

Why did you come to Southfæld?

I suffered a disappointment, and wished to escape painful memories.

Her eyes narrowed.
A disappointment in love?

You might say so.

And you never went back.

I grew accustomed to Glenhallow. It is a fair place to live.

It is that. Though I have heard Hollirued is fairer.

Hollirued. Rephanin sighed, searching far back in memory. It is very fair, and very old, and its ways have changed little over the centuries. Folk are more open minded in Southfæld.

Is that why you stayed?

Perhaps it is.

You used to host gatherings of pleasure.

He met her gaze, the sting of recollection haunting him.
I did.

Now they were approaching his own pain, but he could reflect on it with less distress since Heléri had come back into his life. Filari was probably old enough to have attended one of his gatherings. He wondered if she had done so.

I was curious about them. Her eyes narrowed again and the whisper of a sly smile touched her lips. I suppose I shall not have a chance, now.

She knew it all, then. Of course. Everyone in Southfæld had heard of the tragedy.

I fear not.

A pity. It sounded enjoyable.

It was enjoyable. He almost said so aloud, then left it. Filari had heard much about his entertainments, no doubt. He had made no secret of them, and indeed folk had come from far away to attend them, which was why it had been such a shock to find that Soshari had been unaware of their nature.

Leave that. He wished to avoid the trap of remorse over past events. No good could come of further self-blame.

I regret that I had to discontinue them, but it was needful. They could never have been the same.

Filari nodded.
One must go on.

Yes.

She met his gaze and silent understanding passed between them. One must go on, live down the past and atone for it as best one might. It was sometimes unpleasant, but regret was a part of atonement.

A movement nearby distracted him. Ehranan, watching them with curiosity.

Will you excuse me?

Of course.

Rising slowly, his stiff limbs complaining, Rephanin faced the commander. They had not had mindspeech for some days now, not since Rephanin had left the battleground. He had needed the respite, needed to find his balance again.

Ehranan regarded him steadily for a moment, then gestured toward the stream. They walked along it together, away from Filari and the rest of the army. At length, Ehranan pulled his cloak about himself and sat on the ground. Rephanin did likewise.

“You are still sore?”

“I will manage.”

“I dare not slow our pace—”

“We have discussed this. I will manage.”

Ehranan ran a hand over his face. “I am hurting you again.”

Rephanin hesitated. “May I speak to you?”

A faint smile crossed Ehranan's lips. He nodded gravely.

Rephanin reached toward him in thought. Suddenly Ehranan was present in his mind, the familiar tone of his khi like a favorite melody remembered. A homecoming, it seemed, which surprised Rephanin. They had not shared mindspeech for very long—no more than a season—but the intensity of their work together had brought them close.

He drew a careful breath.
I am here voluntarily, like all the rest. I need no coddling.

Ehranan gave a huff of laughter that expressed his disagreement.
Are you well enough to search for more mindspeakers?

Rephanin blinked.
I am still getting acquainted with Filari. We have not tested her gift at distance. She is eager to serve, though—when I mentioned she might go to Hollirued—

We need more. I want a mindspeaker in every realm, at least one. Keep searching, Rephanin.

Yes, my lord.

Now I have angered you.

No. But it is not so simple. I will try—I am not saying I will not try—but I cannot promise you I will find more.

He looked over the army, most of whom were from the Southfæld Guard. He had already tried them in the search that had led him to Thorian. The Steppegards and Ælvanen who had joined the army at Midrange he had not tried, so there was some potential there, perhaps.

Potential was necessary—that could not be created—but potential could be trained. It had not previously occurred to him that a distance speaker could be made, rather than found, but that in essence was what he had done with Thorian, and was doing with Filari.

To make a mindspeaker. That would certainly earn him a place in the ballads of history. He had far rather be remembered so than as a somewhat talented mage whose self-indulgence was legendary.

Ehranan looked eastward, then stood. Dawn was not yet near, but the horizon was beginning to glow with blue.

“We had better prepare to continue.”

Rephanin hid a grimace, and accepted the arm Ehranan offered to help him to stand.

Ebon Mountains

 

E
liani waited with Luruthin while Vanorin went a short distance ahead, studying the crag they were climbing. They had strayed from their earlier course, hampered by the snowfall which had thickened as the night wore on. It must not be long before dawn now, but the storm was so heavy around them that there was no way to tell whether the sun had risen.