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By Any Other Name
©Melissa K. Michael 2003
ca 5780 words
By Any Other Name
by Melissa Michael
"He's a nice boy, isn't he?"
Keef's drunken head swiveled to study the bearded white-hair seated
across the narrow table from him. The tavern's din dimmed away.
The wenches had forsaken him since the old man with the tiny boy
was forced to share his table in the crowded common room.
Keef experienced a piercing stab of clarity through his self-induced,
work-week's-end beer haze. The elder's hair was white like the purest
snow. His smile was gentle, kind, and his sparkling blue eyes full
of merry warmth faded the crowsfeet beside them. Oh yes. Keef would
love to do anything this man asked of him.
"Yes sir. He's a right fine boy. That he is." Keef's gruff
baritone sounded surprisingly steady to his own ears. He'd quaffed
two pitchers of the dark home brew already and had a good start
on his third.
"I need a trustworthy man, such as yourself; a bold warrior,
seasoned in battle, brave, courageous . . ."
Keef beamed, drunkenly sure he deserved all the praise this man
could voice.
"But mostly, I need a man of his word."
Keef nodded. "You're looking at him!" he declared proudly.
The white-haired man in the light grey cloak smiled brightly. "Good.
I knew I could count on you."
"Damn right!" Keef gruffed, pulling on his stein.
"He needs transport to the north. To Mount Meru. Here is payment.
With this, you can travel quickly and light. Speed is of the essence."
The man plunked a bag of coin on the table within Keef's reach.
"Another bag like this awaits your arrival at Mount Meru."
Doubts buzzed futilely on the far reaches of Keef's mind, like mosquitoes
kept out by a screen.
"Check it. It's good." The white-hair motioned to the
bag. "You'll leave at first light."
Again Keef felt the buzz of doubt. He was a Captain of the Crossroads
City Guard. But no, this was an important trust placed in him by
a venerable, aged, wise man. He loosened the purse's strings and
pulled at a coin fully expecting the white shine of silver or even
the orange glint of copper. It was a large bag and would make three
of the purses of more common usage. Instead, the gleam of solid
gold met his weary, jaded eye. He checked it on his teeth. It even
tasted like the real thing. Keef looked up to find the man gone.
He quickly returned the coin and slipped the purse into his shirt
then regarded the tiny boy.
"Reckon you'd be ready for bed, uh?"
Soulful eyes regarded him in turn, as drained of emotion as those
of a refugee.
The child could hardly keep up with Keef's guardsman strides so
he carried the little slip cradled in one arm back to the barracks.
As he was Captain, Keef rated his own room and privy and even a
bucket of hot water delivered every morning.
He made a nest of blankets for the boy on top of a pile of soiled
uniforms and laid himself down on his narrow cot. Keef thought he
heard the alarm bell ringing but reckoned it was a dream and he
was off duty in any case.
"The Queen summons you," Stifin called
from the door to Lyara's student cubicle in the 17th tree.
"Oh! All right." Lyara was surprised. What could Queen
Ennyeva possibly want with her? "I'm coming," she said
but Stifin remained unmoving, his face an emotionless mask. How
Lyara wished she could master that Warrior self-control. But no,
she had to be born a touchy-feely Healer with every nuance of emotion
clearly visible on her face.
She wouldn't dare let Stifin see Mistress Mouse, so she had to leave
her. Lyara's peers teased her that Mouse was her familiar which
was silly for Lyara was no Mage, and Mouse was no familiar. She
was a friend, a confidante. Still Lyara would die before she'd let
Stifin see her consorting with a mouse.
Lyara smoothed her silvery hair behind her pointed ears and tried,
to no avail, to tuck the stray ends into the thick braid as she
hurried out. Stifin led the way, quickly jumping branches and climbing
vines to the Queen's High Council Chamber in the First Tree.
Lyara smoothed her palms over her tan tunic and breeches. Sometimes
the Queen might call a student into her private chambers to gain
the viewpoint of the young generation, ascertain for herself the
quality of its training, or simply to bestow benedictions. But students
were only called to the High Council Chamber to receive awards of
great merit or punishments of great shame. Lyara entered the hall
with trepidation.
Stifin rejoined the circle of Warriors surrounding the Queen who
sat at the head of an empty council table. Lyara dropped to one
knee her eyes on the floor of the great hollow at the top of the
eldest and blackest gabbro tree in all the Western Forest.
"Rise child. Come. Sit." Queen Ennyeva gestured beside
herself.
Lyara did so with wide, incredulous eyes. These seats were sacred,
sat upon only by the most qualified and revered of all elfin elders.
"You know the way to the Wilds?"
"Yes." Lyara nodded cautiously. North from anywhere led
eventually to the snowy wastes.
"Um, Lost Hope Pass, to the peak of Mount Meru?" Ennyeva
clarified.
Lyara closed her eyes a moment and verified that yes, she perfectly
recalled the lessons. She repeated her nod while qualifying it.
"Of course I've never been there."
"She's never been out of the Forest, Your Highness," Stifin's
steely tone rang out though his voice was low.
Lyara stiffened in her seat.
The Queen merely glanced Stifin's way. "I need your service
as a guide, Lyara."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Good. Leave immediately for the Northern Road. You will seek
and intercept a man carrying the sole surviving heir of the High
Wizard of Crossroads. Aswin's daughter is only four. You will guide
them to Avalanthalin's Hold at the peak of Mount Meru. Avalanthalin
has laid a geas on him but you know that will draw him in a straight
line which is impossible to traverse."
"Me?" Lyara was shocked. Such a mission would be a test
for the most veteran Warrior. Now she understood Stifin's disdain.
And heartily agreed with it!
"You've passed all the tests," Ennyeva said.
"Then why was I not named Warrior?" Steel shivered in
Lyara's tone.
"Lyara," Ennyeva said in exasperation. "You're a
Healer. No amount of hard work or training can change that."
"Then why am I given a Warrior's quest?" It was her turn
for exasperation. To be given the responsibility without the recognition.
The queen's demeanor grew reserved again. Lyara feared she'd overstepped
and given offense.
"Due to excesses in the Gateway War, we have no contact with
humans and they are highly mistrustful of us, and will not tolerate
dealing with a Warrior. Perhaps a female Healer can accomplish this
task."
"I'm to go alone then?" Damn the Goddess why did her voice
have to quaver? Right in front of Stifin!
"Yes. A small party will travel swifter and be a smaller target
for whoever or whatever is hunting. I've a small horse for the child.
You can use it as a pack horse until you reach them. Here's gold
for whatever you need on the way."
"And if he refuses my guidance?"
"He will. You can count on that. Avalanthalin sent this. Simply
show it to the human."
Lyara accepted the rock crystal numbly. To impart a glamour on top
of a geas . . . why, it was cruel beyond words. The humans were
right to mistrust elfkind.
"A Warrior," Stifin said in disgust.
"This is the child of prophesy!" Ennyeva said, taking
Lyara's hand. "She is 'Avalanthalin's distant daughter saved
from a murder by a murder.' It was a murder of horrendous giant
crows that slew her family. At the King's table! We never suspected
that interpretation. We still don't know who is behind it or why.
Her father was the most beloved Wizard of all Westmarch and one
of the few truly powerful."
"Of course, Your Majesty. I depart within the hour."
"Stifin will saddle and stock the horses."
"A half hour then."
Lyara dropped swiftly from the High Council Chamber and took a hearty
meal, following the most popular rule of the road if not the first
and foremost: Leave With a Full Belly.
She tucked a large crumb of bread and a small chunk of cheese into
her pocket for Mistress Mouse. She collected Mouse, her own heavier
traveling clothes, a bedroll, and her Healer's kit. Soon she was
at the stables. Stifin packed her small bag and bedroll on the smaller
horse and gave her a leg up onto Snowmane's back.
"For the Queen," she heard his soft steely voice.
"For the Queen," Lyara answered and rode east.
Keef woke to the hammering of his customary restday
hangover. He stumbled into his privy and began his morning toilet
with the bucket of now tepid water. He was dressed and forcing down
his first cup of scalding tea before he heard of the High Wizard's
murder. Bloody slaughter by the description floating around the
mess. Scuttlebutt was that the youngest daughter was missing. The
bodies of the other eight children were accounted for.
Keef sat upright nearly spilling his tea. He bolted for the barracks.
The boy was still there. The brunette, short-haired boy; not the
missing long-haired, blonde girl. Keef heaved a sigh of relief.
The boy ate quickly. Keef guided him to the privy where he squatted.
Keef didn't know much about children, to his undying regret. He
supposed this one was too young to stand while taking care of business
and probably couldn't dress or bath himself as well.
Gods, but he must have been drunk to have agreed to this.
Keef helped the clothes off the child, and using a small dipping
cup, poured water over the boy's head. He reached for the soap then
started and landed on his hip. Black rivulets ran down the boy's
emasculated body. Keef took a deep breath and thought a moment before
lathering. No, the child hadn't been castrated. This was a girl-child,
fast becoming a blonde girl-child.
"Oh no," he muttered. "Not me. Where's your grandfather?"
Keef tried to remember the old man who'd given him the child and
the gold now tied in three separate bags to his waist string hanging
next to his skin.
That face. That kindly, benevolent, wise, trusting face. Keef had
given his word. . .
King wanted his High Wizard's only surviving daughter protected.
Keef hurriedly finished bathing and dressing the child. He buckled
his broadsword around his lean hips. Tea of a morning, beer of an
evening and not much food in between. And Kalira had married that
fat merchant. Six months before Keef had made Captain, doubling
his salary. Four years ago. Keef spent his restday drunk and his
workdays mercilessly grinding the troops under him into Crossroads'
top Guardsmen.
He hoisted the girl onto his hip and hid her in the wrap of his
cloak. He picked up his heavy wooden shield and headed for the barn.
Officers got horses and Midnight was the best charger gold could
buy. He stopped by the Seamstress' house for he had no proper clothes
nor bedding for the girl; no provisions at all. No plan. No map
of the northern mountains. Hell, he'd never been out of Crossroads
but for one trip south. They'd make a clear target for sorcerous
murderers on the Northern Road.
"What you be needing today Captain Keef?" Seamstress called
from her door.
Keef dismounted, one hand cradling the girl. He strode to the door,
forcing Seamstress back in.
"Traveling clothes for this mite." He swung the child
out of his cloak. "Anything you've got ready. And food, provisions."
"Well, I ain't got much," she began.
"For good gold," Keef hissed, fishing around his trousers
until he pulled out a goldpiece.
"What's come over you, Keef?" she stared at him.
"Clothes and any travel food you've got. Name your price."
"Well I . . . ten would buy my place and I wouldn't have to
rent no more."
"Done. And not a word to anyone."
"'Done', he says," Seamstress said in astonishment. "C'mon
chick." She led the girl into her fitting room.
Soon they crossed the river by the rarely-used gate where the city's
open sewers drained. Midnight swam easily despite his burden and
quickly reached the far bank. Keef pressed him into a trot heading
north through the surrounding woods.
Lyara heard a warg's scream of rage ahead of her,
then the bugling warcry of a stallion. She debated whether to investigate
when she heard a child's shriek and a man's hoarse shout. She kneed
Snowmane forward and knocked an arrow to her short bow.
In the blink of an eye she saw the stallion rear and brain one warg
that was nearly shoulder to shoulder in height with it while the
fierce man astride its back met a leaping warg with a one-armed
upstroke of his broadsword that cut the creature into two writhing
pieces that vanished with a puff of foul black smoke. Poof! Before
his idiotic bravery stunned her further, Lyara loosed three arrows
to three warg eyes and Poof! Poof! Poof! they were gone. Two remaining
wargs slowly dissipated with growls of frustration.
She watched the man regard her. So hairy, dark, and fat. Why he'd
make three of Stifin, the heartiest Warrior of the Forest. Blood
ran freely down the man's side below his swordarm. Lyara started
forward toward him.
"Back Hellspawn!" he yelled, raising his sword again.
"I want none of yourn."
"You're hurt," Lyara couldn't help the indignation in
her tone. "Your horse, too. I'm a Healer."
She saw a tiny head peep out from behind his shield. "Who's
that?"
"You have her," Lyara sighed with relief. "Is she
well?"
"Me and my horse will tend our own scratches. Begone with you,
Hellspawn!" His eyes blazed with fear and anger. "The
child is no business of yourn. Thank you for shooting the wargs
and all like that. G'day to you." He kneed his horse forward.
"But--but--," Lyara stammered, helplessly watching him
depart. Remembering Stifin's sneer, she kneed Snowmane to follow.
"Wait sir!"
"Can't stop."
Lyara barely caught his words. He swayed in his saddle. His sword
dropped with a clatter. "Got to get the child north."
He clutched the child close and hunched over the pommel. Feeling
the odd shift in weight, his stallion stopped, precipitating the
man's slump into a fall. Lyara sprang to the ground but she wasn't
fast enough to stay the mountain of flesh. Luckily he managed to
land on his back, cushioning the girl.
"Are you all right?" Lyara asked while hefting the wood
shield off the child and then off the man's arm.
"Dear Goddess, he's bleeding like a stuck pig," she swore
and drew her dagger. She sliced away his shirt and forcefully probed
the wound with her fingers. She pulled her consciousness in toward
her center and sent it into the man's alien body. A warg had stuck
him a goodly swipe, its claws slicing through muscle and organs,
leaving filth in its wake. Lyara prayed the Goddess use her instrumentally
and sank deep into the Healer's trance. She drew out poisons, patched
organs, and bound muscles. The skin, easiest to mend, she left open
to allow drainage. She returned to awareness of her hands resting
on hard male muscle. This man wasn't fat at all.
"Is he dead?"
Lyara turned to see the child's serious gaze. "He'll be fine
now. Let's look to his horse." She easily closed a flap open
on the stallion's rump. She unloaded the horses and prepared a poultice
in her pot on a small fire. She cut his shirt into strips to bind
the poultice onto his wound. As she slipped the cloth under him
she was struck again that he wasn't at all fat. Furry as a bear,
her nose wrinkled with distaste, but solid muscle. How could they
be so wide? Surely their feet must ache from bearing so much weight.
Lyara sighed as she set grains to cook.
"Do you mean it? Can I really ride that horse?"
Keef heard a child's voice. He took a deep breath and assessed his
situation.
"Of course you can. The Queen of the Forest sent it specially
for you. Her name is Winsome Dinsome for she is beautiful and when
excited makes quite a noise."
Damn his body. Keef sat bolt upright at the sound of the Hellspawn's
silvery voice. Surprisingly his side hardly hurt at all. He'd have
sworn the warg tore him nearly in twain. Keef pulled at the bandage
around his middle. Hellspawn's work that. He wanted it off.
"What's your name," the she-elf asked the little girl.
"Bavani."
Keef grunted. "She hasn't spoken a word to me and I've had
her five days gone now."
"My goodness, Bavani!" the she-elf exclaimed. "You
must have been scared and shy wasn't it?"
The child nodded solemnly.
"Now you must thank the nice man. What's your name, good sir?"
Keef glowered at the she-elf. "No need of that," he said
as he cut the bandages from him with one slice of his dagger. "I
thank you for your help but we'll be on our way now. Don't let us
slow you down."
"Captain Keef," the little girl supplied.
"You must thank the brave and courageous Captain Keef for rescuing
you from Crossroads, for saving you from the wargs, and anything
else he's saved you from."
Bavani did so, enumerating quite a list of brigands, natural disasters,
and undescribable demons.
"Drilled her for everything while I was out, eh Hellspawn?"
The she-elf's face remained completely impassive. Such stark, cold
beauty raised gooseflesh on Keef's arms.
"My name is Lyara. I know who she is. Avalanthalin contacted
Ennyeva, our Elfin Queen, and requested she send you a guide. We
know that you are headed for his keep on Mount Meru and that you
haven't the slightest notion of how to get there."
Keef rose and drew his spare shirt from his bags then drew it over
his head. He used the bandages to clean his sword now covered in
clotted warg blood.
"I've made stew. I thought we might as well camp here and let
you rest. It's almost eventime."
Keef picked up Midnight's saddle and tossed it over his back. "How
long till your people get here?"
"There's no one but--"
Swiftly, Keef left the saddle to grab the she-elf roughly and hold
his dagger against her gut. "My Grandfather was there, Hellspawn.
He was a child, acting as my great-grandfather's squire. He was
there. He saw what you demons did to Gateway."
"It was a mistake!" Her inhumanly silver eyes sparkled
with sympathy. "Demons came to us in the guise of humans! We
didn't know! We've made reparation. We've done and given everything
asked of us. How long must we beg forgiveness?"
"Have you been there? Have you seen the graves at Gateway?"
"No. I haven't--"
"That's how long, Hellspawn. That's how long you treacherous
beasts must beg forgiveness. As long as there are acres of graves
at Gateway. As long as mankind remembers your betrayal."
He looked into her eyes now shining with tears. Such delicate childlike
features on a full grown woman. No, a full-grown Hellspawn. Her
eyes were even with his, yet the wrist bone he crushed with his
grip felt like a tiny bird's.
"We're going north without your help. Don't follow us and don't
get in my way. I'll kill any of your Warriors on sight."
Keef dropped her hand and turned to finish loading his horse, keeping
an eye on the Hellspawn. The she-elf, Lyara, rubbed her wrist and
looked at Bavani. She smiled and put a hand to the pocket in the
middle of her tunic. Out came a mouse. "I want you to meet
Mistress Mouse."
Bavani yelped in delight and took the rodent from her. Lyara reached
into her pouch again and withdrew a stone. A glimmering, sparkling
quartz. She held it up to catch the fading afternoon sun. It warmed
and pulsed with life, with satisfaction. Keef felt himself drawn
to the crystal. Time stopped. The old man was there before his eyes,
murmuring something. Keef bent forward to hear.
"You will let the elf guide you. You will place all trust in
the elf to guide you to Mount Meru."
"I tried," Keef's whisper was strangled with emotion.
"I tried but there were too many enemies, too many delays."
"You have done well, extremely well, but you must trust the
elf. Follow the elf. Listen to the elf. And soon, you and my granddaughter
will be here with me and you'll receive any reward you desire."
Keef let the stone fall from his grasp. He woodenly unsaddled Midnight
and rolled out blankets for himself and the girl. He sat by the
tiny fire and numbly accepted a bowl from the Hellspawn.
"We'll make Wysteria Falls tomorrow. There we can buy a pack
horse and more food."
Keef nodded without looking at the Hellspawn. Bavani looked happy
enough playing with the rodent. He felt somehow cheated but if the
she-elf could get them to the godforsaken mountain sooner, then
Keef supposed he was all for that. He studied her. Stick figure.
If she had curves, they were hidden by her tunic and cloak. Yet
the features of her face, sharp though they were, undeniably radiated
femininity. Knife-thin nose, beady eyes, tiny cupid's bow mouth;
all unearthly pale. She looked like she wanted to say something
more. Keef turned to his stew. Plain but hearty.
"I've always wanted to ask . . ."
"What's that?" Keef returned without looking up. He sensed
Bavani's tension.
"We're always told that the Gateway War ended when the Elves
realized they'd been fooled by base black sorcery--"
"Ha!" Keef interjected derisively.
"But I read--in my studies as a Healer I perused the Healer's
diaries written at that time, and they spoke of great numbers of
wounded and killed elves, and of a cease-fire and surrender, then
the Talks wherein the Elf/Man Pact was agreed upon. It's all there
very clear. But we are trained to leave the humans alone because
we are so much superior to them, we run faster, see better, are
much quicker with arrow, sword, and hand-to-hand. Plus we have the
Healing and recuperative powers that humans do not. So . . . I've
always wanted to ask, how it was that humans actually won the Gateway
War?"
"Endurance," Keef answered simply. The she-elf looked
at him expectantly so he continued despite his reluctance to converse
with one of the Hellspawn. "Your kind are good in the short-term,
campaigns lasting a week. Sure, if I stand a man against an elf
in a footrace, the elf will win, even if it's an all day race. But
load them up with gear and quickmarch them for a week and the elf
will keel over. We've got reserves." He patted his broad shoulder.
"Load a man up with a full kit and he'll march from the northern
mountains to the southern ocean at any pace you set him, and be
ready to start back. An elf can't do that. Same for our horses.
My charger looks tired now but he'll be prancing by morning and
that's after five days of carrying me, the girl, and our bedrolls,
and fighting. Your horses are faster in a short race but your military
maneuvers require too many pack animals. Your army moves too slow,
in the long term.
"So after the slaughter of Gateway, you slogged it back home
ready to collapse and sleep for a week. That's when we attacked.
Elf wars are always short, unbelievably bloody affairs, decided
by numbers and ferocity; while human wars drag on for months, even
years, and are decided by the produce of the growing season or the
transport of food more often than not.
"So they teach the elfkin they won the war, eh?"
"Well, they describe the prowess of our Warriors in glowing
terms," the she-elf replied.
"Nobody wins in any war, Hellspawn."
"Oh Goddess, not again," Lyara begged
silently. Keef led the way up the icy Mount Meru trail. Snow showed
on the horse rumps in front of her. Keef on Midnight leading the
pack horse, Bavani, then Lyara bringing up the rear. The trail itself
was dangerous enough without snow sprites and ice demons.
Puff!
Another attack by the snow sprites. They pelted the small band with
white powder, stirring up a miniature blizzard. Snow melted on Lyara's
hands and face. They'd been so cold for so many days now. Only her
elffire burning on her small stock of wych-elm kept them alive through
the nights. They had to be close by now. It had been weeks since
their stop at Last Hope at the foot of the mountains.
Puff!
She'd tried reasoning with the snow sprites. Explaining their destination
and how displeased the Great Wizard Avalanthalin would be to find
they'd been thus abused. But the sprites only laughed and threw
more snow.
Puff!
They'd been tormented with hallucinations of warm shelter and wind
demons periodically nearly blew them off the mountain.
Lyara saw a shadow to her left come flying down from above. then
she was knocked into the snow where she rolled twice before slowing
enough to gain her feet.
"I'll kill her!"
Lyara gasped, "No!" and started forward but hands gripped
her from behind and foul breath panted at her ear.
Likewise a dark shape held Bavani with a small blade at her throat.
Keef had not been unseated. Rather, he'd managed to unsheathe his
blade. But now, taking in the six men surrounding them and the knife
at Bavani's throat, he resheathed it.
"We only want the horses!" the band's leader said near
Keef. The others grunted agreement.
Keef dismounted. "Take the horses but let the women be."
"No!" Lyara cried impotently.
"If you harm them I'll kill every last one of you." Keef
promised.
He watched motionless as their horses were led away. Finally Lyara
and Bavani were released and their captors fled rapidly up the trail.
"Keef, that was everything," Lyara said. "Our food,
our blankets. I can't start a fire without wych-elm. And I don't
know how far we still have to go."
Keef said nothing. He merely picked up Bavani and settled her on
his hip before swathing his cloak about her, then trudged on up
the trail. Lyara sighed, realizing that if he'd tried anything they'd
have killed Bavani and probably her, too, even if he could then
kill all the six and regain the horses. She trudged along behind
muttering, “Glamour on top of a geas.”
Hours later, just as the sun began setting, Keef called from his
position several paces ahead. Lyara dragged her lethargic legs to
see.
"It's an empty cave. We have shelter for the night."
Lyara stepped in. It didn't seem any warmer. In fact it felt colder
even than the outside wind. She pulled off a glove and reached out
to touch the smooth wall. Ice. "It's ice. We'll die if we sleep
here. We've got to keep moving."
"I need a rest. A short break at least," Keef let his
body slump to the floor. Bavani peeked out from his cloak. Lyara
let herself sink down beside him. At least the wind wasn't slapping
her face for the moment. She felt Mouse rustling around in her tunic
and opened her cloak to see what she wanted.
"I've a bit of cheese and bread here if Mistress Lyara could
wish it bigger."
Lyara nearly cried in exhaustion as she accepted the crumb of bread
and the smidgen of cheese. "I can't. I just can't. Without
wych-elm to warm me and our food gone, I just haven't the strength
left for anything."
"Wait," the mouse said and dove back into the pocket.
She resurfaced and held out a splinter. "Here's a bit of wych-elm
for you, Mistress Lyara."
Lyara took it in the hand with the crumbs. She laid her head back
against the icy wall and tried to call on some reserve of energy
from somewhere.
Rustling cloth woke her from a light doze. It was full dark. "Keef?"
"Right here. I've a plan."
"You must take the girl and continue on. It is death to stay
here. You'll make it. We can't be at all far. Then, perhaps, the
Wizard might send a search party for me . . ."
Keef crouched down beside her. She felt his breath warm upon her
face. "I'll not leave you behind. Not now. Listen." Lyara
felt his hand groping until it found hers. His was hot like he'd
been in front of a fire the last hour instead of in a subfreezing
cave.
"Gods but you're cold as a fish! Listen. I have the strength
you need. I know you can take it. Take it from me and use it to
make the fire and the food from the crumbs the mouse saved. She
told me you can do it."
"No!" Lyara felt the strength to protest that. She couldn't
do that. Not now, not on a man with not one, but two glamours laid
on his soul. "No. It is forbidden. I'm not trained in that.
I'm a Healer, not a Mage."
"You wanted to be a Warrior, didn't you? So fight! Do you want
me and the girl to freeze out there ten steps from the Wizard's
castle? Use my strength. I give it freely. . . Hellspawn."
Lyara heard the smile in his voice. She'd never thought that name
could sound so . . . endearing.
"Feel me!" he whispered, finding her other hand with his.
"Feel my heat and strength. I can keep going for days, but
the girl cannot."
Lyara reached within to her center and steeling herself for intimate
contact of a radically alien sort, felt him. She felt the fierce
rush of his hot, passionate blood, so different from the smooth
flow of her own cool blood. His heartbeat resounded like a copper
kettledrum while hers flitted lightly like a dancer's step. And
because he was so honestly willing, to give his life's blood to
his sworn enemy, it’s power flowed freely into her like water
flows downhill. She quickly dammed the rush, pulling her hands away
to sit up.
"Please Lyara, do it." Now his face was level with hers,
his lips nearly brushing hers.
"I did," she said and then laughed. "But you've so
much to spare, you didn't even notice."
He sat back as Lyara called warmth to surround them but kept it
from melting the ice floor. "Now where is that wych-elm?"
"Here Mistress," Mouse called from her pocket. Lyara took
the splinter and breathed on it, the crumb, and the smidgen of cheese
chanting, "Grow, grow, grow."
With a snap she held a loaf of bread, a round of cheese, and a bundle
of wood on her lap. She quickly lit the first piece of wych-elm
with elffire and laid it down. Keef took the bread and cheese and
woke Bavani to eat. Lyara fed the fire as Keef cut their meal and
passed it between them. Soon everyone had their fill and were drowsing,
contentedly warm.
Lyara's eyes met Keef's. "Thank you, human," she whispered.
His eyes came alive and sparkled with devilish merriment. "Anytime,
Hellspawn."
"There it is," Lyara announced gesturing
at the golden glow ahead rising from the white horizon.
Keef looked back to her and felt himself smiling triumphantly. When
she smiled in return, she didn't look so distant and cold. Then
he realized he'd never seen her smile at him. She was always smiling
at the child or the horse or that rodent. But this smile was only
for him. Bavani stirred on his hip. He opened his cloak to let her
see the approaching golden glow.
By late afternoon they'd struggled up the last slope and passed
down into a little valley where spring held eternal. They passed
farms and gardens and pastures until finally, they came to the front
gate of Avalanthalin's Hold. Two greyish stone towers spoked skyward
from the top of a palatial stone building and were joined to each
other by three arching bridges. Keef saw a sprightly elder striding
briskly toward them. He stopped still and let Bavani slide from
his grasp. She turned to look questioningly at Lyara who was gazing
at Keef with some concern.
"Ah, safe at last. We're so relieved by your arrival. I'm Avalanthalin.
Welcome. Welcome." He spoke easily but Keef was immobilized
by that voice. The man reached their party and without slowing stretched
out his right hand to touch Keef's temple. He whispered some phrase
that sent Keef staggering. Keef found Lyara under his arm supporting
him.
"It is over. You have done well," the wizard said, nodding.
"Come in. First you must eat and rest, then you can tell us
of your travels."
"First I must return for our horses that were stolen on the
pass," Keef answered.
"Oh dear, did you have a rough time then?"
Keef blinked then looked at Lyara. They both laughed. Keef swept
Bavani up. "You could say that, yes."
The wizard seemed quite distressed. "At least rest the night.
Then you are of course free to do as you please, although I think
it would be of benefit to little Bavani here if you and Lyara could
stay for some time, until she adjusts to her new surroundings."
"That sounds fine. The King of Crossroads has done without
me this long. I can't get in worse trouble."
"Oh no, you're not in any trouble," the wizard looked
scandalized. "King Dishtra has been informed all along of your
mission and you have his complete support. Whenever you do return
to Crossroads you'll be greatly rewarded."
Keef was surprised and made happy by this pronouncement. He felt
eyes on him and turned to face Lyara's sober visage. "And what
of you, Hellspawn?" he asked brazenly.
Avalanthalin seemed to have trouble breathing.
Lyara's face broke into an almost human smile. "Whither thou
will, Dungheap."
THE END
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