Swords Over Fireshore (36 page)

I mean to ask him if I may take copies of the first five. I do not think he would send his only copies with me, nor should he. His history has been preserved so long, it should not be placed at risk of any accident.

Turisan had to smile. She meant that it should not be entrusted to her care. Anything Eliani possessed was immediately in danger. He laughed softly, remembering her contrition as she had told him of the loss of her cloak, as if such a thing mattered. Only she mattered to him. As long as she was safe, he cared for naught else.

The others are stirring, love. I must go. I will speak to you again today.

Please do. I have missed you.

She sent a wave of love that made him ache for her, then withdrew. Turisan gave his attention to the road ahead, the long weary leagues that lay between him and Eliani. He wanted to urge his horse to a gallop, to speed across the distance to her side, but his duty lay in Fireshore.

The Great Sleeper

 

U
lithan came in from the passage. “The storm has lifted.”

Eliani nodded, then sat back on her heels and looked at Vanorin, whose ankle she had been examining. “All the swelling is gone. You should be able to walk on it, if you take care.”

“I shall take care not to fall down another cliff.” He smiled wryly as he reached for his boots.

Eliani smiled back and stood. Stretching her arms toward the cave's ceiling, she could just brush it with her fingertips.

She decided to look outside and try to judge how much snow had fallen. If it was very deep they might have to wait another day or two to travel onward, though she hoped to avoid that. Though she enjoyed Ulithan's company, she was sure he must be wishing to have his home to himself once more.

She pulled on her leathers for warmth, and walked out through the passage to the ledge outside the cave. Bright sunlight gleamed from a snow-laden landscape, setting her eyes to watering. Drifts of snow lay along the ledge and within the hollow that marked the entrance to Ulithan's cave. Eliani stepped forward and shaded her eyes with a hand as she gazed northward, her breath fogging on the chill air.

She could not find the place where they had lit the pyre. Overcoming hesitance, she searched with khi for any sign of Kelevon in the wooded slopes below, and found none. Snow lay heavy for several leagues, at least a day's travel in deep snow, if they left today.

Tonight, she amended. Luruthin could not travel in daylight. Well, perhaps the snow would melt a bit by nightfall.

She heard someone coming out of the cave. Vanorin, she thought, coming to see for himself the result of the storm. She waited, gazing across the snowy mountains.

“I am going to fetch water. Would you care to walk with me?”

Eliani turned, astonished. Ulithan stood smiling at her, a large water skin over his shoulder, his hair gleaming white against the snowy cliff behind. Fear seized her.

“Ulithan! The sun!”

His gaze flicked toward the sky, then back to her as he smiled in amusement. “It does not trouble me.”

“How can that be?”

His smile turned wistful. “When the alben's curse, as you call it, came over my family, the only mark it made upon me is what you see.”

Eliani stared at him in disbelief. Without doubt he looked alben; the white hair and black eyes still gave her alarm at odd moments. Out here, in daylight, his skin seemed so pale as to be nearly white as well.

Yet he stood smiling at her in the sunshine, untroubled as he claimed. She remembered Luruthin's distress after only an instant's exposure to the sun.

“Then you—you do not have to hunt ...?”

Ulithan shook his head. “When I hunt it is for game, even as you do.”

“I misunderstood.”

As she gazed at him in amazement, she realized that his khi had no trace of the prickling she had come to associate with those who suffered the curse. She had not noted its absence before.

“Forgive me. I have never heard of such a....”

“Nor I of another such.” Ulithan smiled again, sadly. “I am alone in this, as far as I know.”

“And this is why Darkshore cast you out.”

He nodded. “Partly why.”

“And no other clan would have you.”

“None believed me. The war was underway. Everywhere I went I was met with fear and suspicion. My attempts at explanation were not heard. Some folk even drove me away with threats of violence. At last I gave up trying to find a place among my people.”

“Oh, Ulithan! How terrible.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I am content.” He shifted the water skin over his shoulder. “Will you walk with me to the spring?”

“Yes.”

He led the way northward along the ledge, his boots making deep tracks in the drifted snow. Eliani followed, stepping in his footprints, musing on his strange fate. How could it be that the curse had afflicted him, yet left him untouched save for his appearance?

She felt this was important, that if she could understand it, she might find a way of fighting the curse itself. She knew so little of such matters, though. She wished yet again that she could consult with Jhinani.

Ulithan stopped at a frozen pool no more than an armspan across. Water trickled over a cascade of ice that issued from a crack in the cliff wall a little above the pool. Ulithan knelt beside it and broke the tiny frozen waterfall with his fingers, setting the spring free to sparkle in the sun as it poured from the rock. He held the water skin beneath the flow.

Eliani squatted across the pool from him and tapped its surface with a finger to test how hard it had frozen. The sunshine would melt it by midday, she thought.

“Ulithan?”

He turned his head to look at her, black eyes inquiring. Eliani cleared her throat.

“My father is the head of my clan. He would welcome you to join us, I know.”

Ulithan's eyes widened and color came into his cheeks. A look of astonishment crossed his face. In the few days she had known him, she had not seen him so moved.

“That is most kind of you. You honor me. Please do not be offended if I decline.” He glanced back at the spring and shifted the water skin, then laughed softly. “I have grown accustomed to my solitary ways. I no longer wish to live otherwise.”

Eliani nodded, unsurprised. After so long alone, he would likely find Clan Stonereach an unbearably boisterous company.

“The invitation stands. I know I can speak for my father in this.”

Ulithan gazed at her thoughtfully. “Your father is head of Stonereach?”

“And governor of Alpinon. I will make you another invitation on his behalf, which I know he will support. He has summoned the Ælven Council to meet at Highstone on the first day of spring. We would be greatly honored if you would attend.”

“The Ælven Council?” Ulithan looked bemused. “I am so far removed from ælven affairs, I cannot see how I could serve the Council.”

“Your presence would be of service. Your very existence proves we do not fully understand the alben's curse. Ulithan, the Lost plan to seek clan status at this Council. I think your presence would be of great help to them.”

“The Lost.” He nodded as if recalling her words. “Those who live with the curse, but live by the creed. Their path must be hard.”

“It is.”

“And you think I can help them.” He gazed at her, frowning slightly. “I do not know.”

He looked away, back at the spring. The water skin was beginning to bulge and he shifted it again to let it fill more easily.

Eliani thought he would refuse to attend the Council. The idea of going into an ælven city was likely a frightening one to him, after so long.

“Whether or not you decide to attend, I would like to ask a boon of you. I would like to take copies of your history to the Council.”

He met her gaze. “Those events are known. I have told nothing new.”

Eliani shifted her footing, laying clasped hands across her knees. This was important, she felt. Deeply important.

“You have told how Darkshore came to fall. This is not understood among the ælven. If I can take the first five scrolls of your history to the Council, it will change how they understand the curse. Please, Ulithan. I will make the copies myself, if you will allow.”

He blinked as he gazed at her. For a long moment he said nothing, and Eliani began to fear he would refuse this as well.

“I will make copies for you, if you think it so important.”

“I do.” Eliani breathed relief. “I do think it important. We are facing the same dilemma that caused the Bitter Wars. The curse has arisen in Fireshore again. Ghlanhras was dying before the alben attacked it.”

Sadness deepened in Ulithan's eyes. “I am sorry to hear it.” He shook his head. “Ghlanhras was ever cursed, I fear.”

“All our troubles have come from a failure to understand that curse. I am certain of it. And I am certain your history will be of help.”

He gazed at her long and steadily. “If you think it will help, then I am honored to contribute.”

“Thank you, Ulithan!”

“I would ask a favor in return.”

“Of course.”

“Tell no one where I dwell, or how to find me.”

Eliani drew a breath, disappointed but unsurprised. “You would find friends among the ælven, I believe. Among the Lost, certainly.”

He smiled softly. “But their ways and mine differ.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And though I believe your assurance that your father would welcome me, there would be others in your clan who would not understand, who would fear me.” He shook his head. “I put aside that struggle long ago. I have no wish to take it up again.”

“I understand. I will honor your wishes.”

“Thank you.”

They sat in silence while the water skin filled. Eliani watched him, gazing at the lines of his face, trying to commit them to memory. She was sorry he had chosen to remain alone.

“How long do you think it might take to copy the scrolls?”

“Some few days. I will have to make more parchments. I fear I have filled all the ones I had ready with Vanorin's songs.”

His eyes glinted with mischief as he grinned. Eliani smiled back. Ulithan had made Vanorin sing him every song he knew, while they waited out the storm. Some they had sung together, Ulithan's voice clear and rich, the harmonies Vanorin taught him filling the cave.

Eliani traced a swirling knotwork on the surface of the frozen pool with a fingertip. “My father loves music. He always has several bards at his court.”

“You are trying to tempt me.”

She chuckled. “Yes.”

“I thought when I first saw you that you would grieve me.”

She looked up and saw him smiling softly at her. A rush of tenderness filled her heart. She cared for him, truly, this strange and solitary soul. He had such patience, such gentleness.

“I have no wish to grieve you.”

His smile broadened, then he looked away, jiggling the water skin. “Perhaps I will visit your father someday. I have never been to Highstone.”

“You would be welcome.”

Ulithan lifted the water skin away from the spring and carefully closed it. The spring water splashed onto its frozen pool and began to spread across it, flowing over Eliani's design. When it reached the edges it swelled for a moment, a liquid mirror, then spilled across a low place to trickle down the mountainside.

“You had best not wait while I copy the scrolls.”

Eliani agreed, though she would have enjoyed staying longer. Luruthin needed to hunt. He was showing strain, now, and she thought he was beginning to suffer.

“We mean to go to the Lost's camp. They are near Bitterfield at present.”

“You will start tonight?”

Eliani met his gaze, realization tingling through her. Ulithan knew they must travel by night. He knew, though none of them had mentioned Luruthin's affliction.

“Forgive me.” Ulithan spoke with gentle sadness. “I have seen it many times.”