Wild Blood (Book 7) (24 page)

Dusk chuckled dryly.

“I imagine most of the patrols near the border were seeking Valann, not a band of humans, as he was the last to trespass on their lands, and his exploits no doubt in part explain why you were attacked so fiercely,” he said. “But magic notwithstanding, I have no doubt that Valann would have been the more difficult to find, for all the noise your huge riding beasts make and the wide track they leave.”

“And you are Ria.” Rowan stepped closer to Ria, gently tracing the bones of Ria’s cheeks with her fingertip before pulling Ria close in a warm embrace. “There’s much of your mother in your face. Welcome among us, little one. Many of us have prayed to the Mother Forest that one day you would come home.”

“I’m glad to be here,” Ria said, infinitely relieved at her welcome. “But Cyril’s badly hurt, and he’s my good friend. Is there someone who can help him?”

“Lahti and I will tend to him,” Dusk assured her. “We’ve both dealt with arrow wounds many times.”

Lord Sharl cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Look, I can’t say I planned this meeting to happen in this manner, but since it has, I’d like to see something good come of it. It seems to me that I recall Rivkah and myself getting into a good bit of trouble just for being in this place. Is there somewhere else we could go to talk and have my son’s injuries tended?”

Val scowled darkly at the interruption, and even Rowan frowned gently—what could possibly be more important than the reunion of kinfolk?—but the Eldest nodded, took Ria’s hand, and turned away, leaving the others to follow or not as they chose. Lord Sharl hurriedly grabbed the leads of the horses, pulling Rivkah after him, although the High Lady gave a troubled glance toward Cyril. Cyril waved to her to go on, watching Valann as he leisurely bundled up the sleeping furs and supplies from his makeshift camp in the bushes, then wrinkling his brow in puzzlement as Valann laid the bundle on one of the altars.

“Are you just going to leave it there?” Cyril asked hesitantly.

“They’re not mine,” Valann said, shrugging. He glanced narrowly at Cyril. “Do you need assistance walking?”

“I think I can manage.” Cyril stood upright, holding his side. “As long as we walk slowly.”

Val nodded shortly, slowing his pace to match the human’s. After a long moment he spoke again.

“Why do you wish to take my sister as your mate?”

Cyril hesitated thoughtfully, then sighed and shrugged back.

“Sometimes I’m not sure I do,” he said. “Mother and Father could give you a hundred good political reasons. Mine are a little different, but they sound just as worthless when you say them out loud.” He pulled a leaf from a bush as they passed and tore it raggedly in half, holding up the halves. “The two pieces look nothing alike, but they fit together along the edges. I guess it comes down to, for me, a feeling that Ria and I fit together along our jagged edges somewhere. But you said Lahti is your mate, didn’t you? I guess you know all about it.”

Valann chuckled.

“Lahti and I are not yet actually formally mated,” he admitted. “She says it’s too soon to decide, but she smiles when she says it, and she lives in my hut as if we were mates. I think she’ll agree before our child is born.” His smile faded as he remembered the cold, closed faces of the adults as they’d left the fire pit on the first night of his return to Inner Heart. Lahti would need him when their child was born, need his support and love more than ever. Hopefully Lahti would agree to the mating quickly, while Valann was certain that their joining would be from love and happiness, not loneliness and need. “There are many reasons for our mating, too, more than I’d expected. I always supposed it a simpler thing.”

“Lahti’s pregnant?” Cyril raised her eyebrows. “It doesn’t show yet.”

“Our first coupling was only days ago,” Valann said absently. “Lahti had not yet passed into womanhood.” He glanced at Cyril sharply. “As my sister has not. She’s too young still for coupling. Elven women seldom leave their childhood until their third decade, and sometimes their fourth.”

Cyril’s face fell.

“How old is Lahti?” he asked after a long moment.

“Lahti has two decades and five years.” Val glanced at Cyril and felt an unwilling sympathy. His own time of waiting for Lahti had been so short, only a few months, and yet so troublesome. How many long years might this human have to wait for Ria?

“But Ria’s half of human blood, like you,” Cyril protested, “and you’ve grown into adulthood in sixteen years, haven’t you? So won’t Ria grow faster, too?”

“Who can say?” Val sighed, shrugging. “She doesn’t appear to have been speeded in her growth by her human blood, but all things are possible. But I haven’t heard my sister say she wishes to be your mate.”

“I know.” Cyril glanced at Val rather defensively. “That’s between Ria and me.”

“Indeed it is between you, and I wonder that you leave it standing there,” Val said, chuckling a little. “I’ll give Lahti no peace until she agrees to be my mate. You and I, young human male, don’t have centuries of leisure to indulge elven patience. If you are meant to be my sister’s mate, make her believe it. And be prepared to find other lovers to fill your arms while my sister is yet a child,” Val added sternly.

Cyril flushed but said only, “They’ll be wondering where we are. And my father will want me present for the negotiations.”

Val only shrugged and led Cyril outside the circle of stones marking the common land of the Altars. Just outside the circle of stones, Rowan and Dusk had sat down on the earth to face Lord Sharl and Lady Rivkah, Lahti beside them. Ria had settled herself rather awkwardly at the base of a tree, carefully behind Rowan and Dusk, as if the elves were a wall to protect her from her foster parents. Elves and humans alike wore expressions of wary stubbornness.

Dusk and Lahti immediately came to help Cyril settle himself comfortably on the ground while they unwrapped the bandages and checked his wounds. To Val’s untrained eye, they looked serious, and Ria was obviously alarmed, but Dusk seemed relieved by what he saw. To Val’s pride, Dusk allowed Lahti to heal the wounds in shoulder and thigh by herself, after the Gifted One had smelled each wound for any signs of poison or infection and healed the wicked-looking gash in Cyril’s side himself.

“You’ll be well enough, young one,” Dusk said kindly, patting Cyril’s shoulder before he returned to Rowan’s side. “You’ll be weak for a few days from the loss of blood, but the wounds should heal cleanly.”

Cyril pulled his tunic back down and glanced at his parents, then at Ria, hesitating. To Val’s surprise, he turned and gave Val a rueful half-grin, then went to Ria, extending his hand. Ria hesitated only a moment before taking it, and let Cyril draw her to the circle of humans and elves. They joined neither side, but sat slightly apart between them. Val chuckled to himself and took Lahti’s hand, drawing her slightly to the side also so that they faced Cyril and Ria. Lord Sharl spared Cyril only the briefest of scowls before turning his attention back to Rowan.

“I don’t understand,” Sharl said impatiently. “You were willing enough to make a treaty when Allanmere was last settled.”

“I was,” Rowan agreed. “And I’m eager to make peace between our two peoples now. But you must realize that circumstances are different in the forest now. I’ve never spoken for all the clans of the forest, but when we made our alliance just before the war, many clans were willing to listen to me, and perhaps to be guided by what I said. Now I speak only for my own clan, and my words bind no others. I’ve tried for sixteen years and still have formed no lasting alliance among our own people. It’s always been our way that the clans have fought for their territories, and we’re not a people to change our ways quickly. I was centuries trying to forge some unity between our clans before the war, and even with the storm of war gathering, many clans still disagreed with my goals and remained apart. After the invasion, they all fell to fighting again, and after a decade and a half they see no reason to stop. Building an alliance again may take centuries more.”

“You told us Dusk had a vision of another invasion,” Rivkah pressed. “It was the prospect of an invasion that brought the clans together before. Can’t you use Dusk’s prediction in the same way?”

“I am already attempting to do so, and will continue,” Rowan said patiently. “But—your forgiveness, beloved,” she said gently aside to Dusk,“—Dusk’s visions are neither so dear nor so reliable that even my own clan follows them eagerly and without reservation, and they’ve seen the truth of his predictions many times. How can I expect more from the other clans, especially when all Dusk has seen is a vague warning of some unknown time in the future? What he foretold might be decades, even centuries ahead of us. That’s what the other clans will say, if they believe us at all. If other signs come, if other Gifted Ones have visions of their own, that will help us.”

“But there’s your own clan,” Sharl said slowly. “If your own clan formed a treaty with us, might that not lead the way for other clans to follow? If the Hawk’s Eye Clan is sending messages, it seems they have some regard for you.”

Dusk shook his head.

“Since the invasion, most of even our people remember humans only with hatred and fear,” he said. “Only a very few of them actually saw your city, met your people, and have a firsthand memory of any kindness coming to us from humans. The others remember humans as the invaders, the attackers who burned the forest around us, or at least as trespassers and poachers who once invaded our territories to kill our trees and slaughter our game—and continue to do so, I might add. If it were known that Rowan’s clan were dealing with the human rulers of the city, it would hurt Rowan’s chances of forming an alliance within the forest, not help.”

“Most clans prefer their solitude and have no desire to become part of a larger whole,” Lahti said slowly, shaking her head. “If they knew that Rowan was dealing with the human leaders, they might believe Rowan was enlisting the humans’ aid in defeating the neighboring clans and seizing their lands, or perhaps bargaining so that if the humans invaded the forest, Inner Heart alone might be spared.”

“And there’s more still to make me hesitate,” Rowan said frankly. “Sixteen years ago you came to our forest and behaved in a disgraceful way toward our people—” She glanced at Ria and Cyril. “I won’t elaborate in the presence of children the offenses you committed against the Mother Forest. But you came among us intending to cheat us, to use us to your own ends. Only when you bore our geas could I be assured that we wouldn’t be cheated or betrayed. Sixteen years is only a moment here in the forest, but that’s not so for a human. Now I no longer know your motivations, and I fear this is yet another attempt to use us for your own ends. I’m not certain you can be trusted to deal fairly with us.”

Sharl grimaced.

“I could say the same,” he said. “But I suppose I know better. Your folk don’t actually
need
anything from us anymore, while the elves control all of the timber and most of the good game in the area—things that we in the city definitely
will
need. Isn’t it enough that the elves are bargaining from a position of power?”

“That power you speak of is an empty promise,” Rowan said, frowning. “Inner Heart cannot bargain with the lands of the border clans, either to grant humans passage there or for wood or game from those lands, so we have little to offer in trade if we desired it. And the elves of Inner Heart are few and the humans many. We have no way to enforce any treaty we make, and no reason to trust that it would be honored.”

“But what if the leaders of Allanmere represented elven interests as well?” Rivkah asked quietly. “What if one of the rulers of the city, Cyril’s wife, was an elf born in the Heartwood—Chyrie’s daughter, in fact?”

Rowan glanced at Ria and smiled slightly.

“I don’t know you,” she said gently. “You weren’t raised among us. You are but a child, and your spirit has not yet been tested by the Mother Forest. But you came to the forest of your own accord, alone and without weapons, and Chyrie brought you among us. You have your mother’s courage and strength of will, and I see no guile and deceit in your eyes. I believe I could trust you to deal honestly with us. But that’s only a beginning, and that is as it should be.”

“What do you mean?” Sharl asked suspiciously.

“Once we made an alliance founded on one night’s meeting,” Dusk told him. “And like a tree whose roots had no time to dig deep, that alliance toppled and died in the passage of a storm. If another storm is indeed coming, these roots must have nourishment and time to dig deep. If it’s your idea that Ria should represent our needs, perhaps it would be best that she spend some time among us to discover those needs, to come to understand her own people. If she learns the ways of the Mother Forest and takes her passage when she comes of age, other clans would trust her more easily.”

“Now, wait,” Lord Sharl said quickly. “Ria has a purpose to serve in the city—convincing its people to trust her as a co-ruler, and through her, to learn tolerance for the elves. She’s got a great deal to learn about ruling the city, too. I pray Cyril will have better luck teaching her than I have,” he added a little sourly. “At any rate, especially considering the danger of passing through the border lands, it’s necessary that Ria stay in the city.”

“Whose needs are you considering?” Dusk said gently. “Ria is a child now, but she will in time pass into womanhood in the manner of elven women. What if she becomes soul-sick? Are you prepared to deal with
that
need?”

“Soul-sick?” Lord Sharl said. He and Lady Rivkah exchanged glances.

“Ria has always been healthy,” Lady Rivkah said slowly. “She’s never contracted any illness I couldn’t deal with easily.”

Rowan smiled a little condescendingly.

“That you speak so only shows that while you may have cared adequately for the needs of her body, you have left unanswered the requirements of her heart and her spirit. Where does she run in your city when her blood burns within her and her skin hungers for the spring rain? Where does she hunt in the stone walls when she aches to taste the fresh blood of her own kill? Where does she go to smell spring breezes sweet with flowers and leaves and warm, moist earth? Don’t look at me in that dismissive manner,” Rowan said sternly, frowning at Lord Sharl. “If humans wish to feed only their bellies, well enough for them; but we starve and die as easily without that food that nourishes our spirit. And as regards the tolerance that Ria might teach your people, there’s no small teaching that must be done here in the forest as well. My people must also come to accept her, to learn that despite her years among humans she’s still the daughter of Chyrie, if you wish them to believe that she might represent their interests in the city. And it might be best if some of our people visited your city to learn something of humans and their ways, too.” She turned to Valann. “Perhaps you and Lahti would wish to go, to travel between the forest and the city with your sister.” Valann glanced at Lahti. He’d been curious enough about the human city. It would be hard to leave the forest, to enter a world he knew nothing about, but what harm could a visit do? They could return to the forest whenever they wished—it would be only a short walk to visit with Hawk’s Eyes if they liked, too—and it would be good to have time to know his sister. But better yet, it would take Lahti away from the cold, closed faces and accusing mutters of the clan for a time, and perhaps spare their child some of the troubles Val had faced.