WayFarer (18 page)

His face softened. “When all is clear, I will send for you.”

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again at the anguish on his face. She would not add to his burdens, for he clearly expected Torindan to fall.

He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips.

She would rather remain with Elcon, even if it meant death, but the stirring of the babe inside her womb reminded her that the choice did not touch her alone. She glanced away from him to help her say the words. “I will go.”

17

Escape

Aewen lay in Elcon’s arms through the long, wakeful night until pale light edged the eastern horizon and the first rays of morning gilded sleeping fields and mountains. How could such peace birth a day of sorrow? Today she would leave the husband she might never see again. She summoned Murial but cautioned her to make as little noise as possible as they prepared for the journey. Elcon would need his wits this day.

Elcon moaned in his sleep and thrashed in the bed. She ran to him. “Wake, Elcon. You dream.”

His eyes opened wide. “Aewen!” He called to her as if she were not before him.

She touched his chest. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes focused on her, and he touched her face. “Don’t worry. This has happened before and I withstood it.”

She caught his hand and kissed it. “What do you mean?”

“Freaer seeks to crush me through the shil shael.”

“If he uses the soul touch he must draw near. It might not be safe now for me to leave.”

“I’m reluctant to send you away, even for your safety, but there’s time for your escape. Freaer uses the soul touch from a distance. If he were nearer, it would be stronger.” He pulled her down for his kiss, and then touched her damp cheek. “You must be strong, for my sake.” His voice broke, and she wound her arms around his neck as they wept together.

Kai arrived, too soon.

She touched Elcon’s face a last time. “Fight well.”

He kissed her hands. “Safe travels, my love.” She would drown in the deep pools that were Elcon’s eyes.

Their hands parted, and she turned away with tears blurring her vision, and stumbled with Murial after Kai. They hurried down the vaulted passageway, their footsteps loud in the quiet, and entered the allerstaed by the side door. How different it looked now than on the day of her wedding and coronation. She could almost hear the cheers the throng had raised then, but silence reigned here now.

Kai felt behind a tapestry hanging at the rear of the allerstaed, and then pushed on the paneling, which creaked open to reveal a dark passageway emanating the cool scent of water on stone. Kai lifted a lanthorn to illumine uneven steps hewn in the rough wall of a natural cavern. Beyond the circle of light, a black void crouched.

Murial crowded against Aewen and put a steadying hand to her elbow. Here and there her small
tsk
carried above the echo of footsteps. The cave, itself, seemed to hold its breath. As if in a waking dream, Aewen descended flight after flight behind Kai with Murial at her back.

Kai paused at last and, with a screech and clang, swung open a door. They emerged from the mouth of a hidden cave above the water gate and stood, blinking in the full light of morning. A stiff wind blew in from Weild
Aenor and snarled in Aewen’s cloak. As they descended to an earthen path, loose rocks slid underfoot. Water shone in pools from a storm in the night and steam rose from the damp ground.

Two wearing guardian garb waited on one of the twin postern platforms built for defense. Three shadows moving on the other platform resolved into wingabeasts. The darkest of them fluttered its wings, and a chill ran over Aewen. She stepped onto the platform and put her hand on Raeld’s warm neck. Elcon could not have told her more clearly he did not expect to live than to give her his wingabeast. Kai gave a low whistle and two silvers, one smaller than the other, stepped toward him. He placed the reins of the smaller silver in Murial’s hands. “You’ve not ridden alone before this, but if you can manage it with my instruction, that will be better for all.”

Murial huffed a little when he helped her into the saddle but sat with quiet resolve despite the look of discomfort on her face.

Kai smiled. “Her name is Ruescht, Kindren for the sound made by the rushing wind. She will respond to hands or voice, and she knows the command, ‘Follow.’”

Aewen smiled a little. As she recalled, her mother had reacted with much less calm when seated upon a wingabeast. When Kai turned to help her onto Raeld’s back, she mustered her courage. He seemed to think she’d ridden alone before for he did not instruct her as he had Murial, nor did he reassure her. She took the reins and waited in silence, determined to show as much dignity as her servant.

The two guardians joined them on the platform. Aewen recognized Eathnor and the tall archer, Aerlic. Eathnor and Kai clasped arms. As the two stepped apart Eathnor handed Kai the hilt of a hunting knife. “Journey well.”

The blade gleamed as Kai examined it. “You may need this more than I will.”

Eathnor flashed a rakish smile. “I’m well supplied.”

Aerlic inclined his head to Kai. “Keep the wind to your heels.” They clasped forearms.

Kai mounted the largest silver. “Stay safe.” Without waiting for a reply, he launched his wingabeast into flight.

Aewen pressed forward and urged Raeld to follow. The wingabeast reared and its black wings rose about her. The great wings beat down with a lurch and a rush of air, and Raeld lifted into flight. Aewen glanced back at Murial, glad to find her keeping pace on Ruescht’s back. At sight of the vast landscape below, she gasped. Kai had said they would fly low, but they were high in the air.

Rather than heading due west over the trackless kaba forest, they set off northward, taking the longer but more traveled route that led through the mountain passes to Norwood. After that they would bend south and west to pass over farmlands and meadows into Westerland. Since Praectal Daelic had insisted, due to her condition, that she dismount and walk about often, Elcon had been reluctant for her to cross the wild lands. Aewen had yielded to his wishes although it added two days to their journey.

They seemed barely to have taken flight when Kai landed again. Delaying even at the edge of the wilderness seemed ill advised, although Aewen could not deny its beauty. The forest canopy stirred with life as flitlings glided from tree to tree, and the blue of crobok wings flicked at the edges of waterways. Weild Aenor cut a swath through the trees to later join the Whitefeather as it flowed to Maer Ibris, glimmering in blue tides which frothed against the distant shore. Aewen slid from the saddle without waiting for assistance, anxious to walk about and ease her back.

“Have a care!” Murial cried, her forehead creased with worry. “You’ll injure yourself or the babe.”

Aewen’s conscience smote her. “I’ve taken no harm, but I’m sorry to worry you.” When she mounted again, she allowed Kai to help her.

Even with frequent breaks, as the day progressed Aewen found it difficult to sit still. Her back pained her off and on, but not enough for alarm. She’d never borne a child before, so she did not know what to expect, but childbirth had to be forceful, not this odd unsettled feeling. No. This ache must come from so much time in the saddle.

As the journey lengthened, her discomfort increased into grabbing pain that squeezed her in an iron grip until it finally eased, only to return. She ground her teeth against each fresh onslaught.

Murial, riding nearby, turned a troubled face toward her. “Are you well?”

Aewen had hoped to keep the matter to herself until they stopped for the night in Norwood. It was too late to turn back to Torindan even if they could, and she hated to alarm the others. But a fresh spasm cut through her, and she could not keep her face from contorting.

Murial’s eyes widened. “The babe comes!”

Kai dropped back to ride beside Aewen and waited in silence until the tide of pain engulfing her ebbed. “We’re more than halfway to Norwood.” He called across the space between them. “Try and hold on until we reach the inn.”

She nodded and did not voice her fear. By the wrinkling of Kai’s forehead, he’d read it all the same.

On another day, she’d have reveled in the splendor of the mountainous wilderness where sunlit valleys gleamed beneath purpled peaks seamed by countless waterfalls. Behind them to the south watered canyons bent, mysterious in the distance. Northward, jagged shafts of ice-encrusted stone thrust upward. She knew without being told that these were the Maegrad Ceid of the Kindren, peaks her own people called the Crystal Mountains. The sight of the unforgiving landscape ahead made her blood run cold. Sharp rocks jutted from the snow in the passes, waiting like so many fangs to devour her. If she must give birth along the wayside, let it not be here.

But, as they fought the wind that buffeted, waves of pain swept over her in rapid succession. She moaned and leaned over to vomit. Blackness edged her vision, and she swayed sideways. Murial’s scream recalled her, and with an effort she pulled herself upright. “I can’t go on!” Her cry ended in a plaintive wail.

Kai brought Fletch
close and commanded Raeld in a strong voice.

Aewen no longer held the reins, although she didn’t remember dropping them. Raeld followed Kai’s silver into a downward spiral and sank to the knees in a carpet of snow.

Kai raised his arms to help her out of the saddle. As another spasm seized her, she clung to him. Warmth flooded her from the waist down followed by the chill of wet garments. Kai spread his cloak on the snow. She wanted to protest such a sacrifice but could not speak. Together, her companions lowered and held her as she thrashed in pain. Cramps drove across her belly, and she ceased to exist as more than a point of pain. The need to push wrenched a scream from her. Murial thrust a cloth between her teeth and warned her to hold back. Aewen bit down upon the cloth and gripped Kai’s hands until her own turned white. She could endure no longer.

“Push!” Murial called.

She obeyed. When the iron band around her eased, she gasped in air.

Murial lifted a tense face. “Harder!”

She rode the next wave, and then fell back in exhaustion.

“Again!”

She groaned, but pushed with all her might. This time the pressure eased.

“Once more.”

She groaned again, and Murial held up the bloodied baby as she cleared its mouth and nose. The babe’s skin went from blue to red, and it brought forth a robust wail. Murial wrapped the infant in her own cloak and laid the small bundle in her arms. “You have a daughter.”

A daughter? She’d hoped for a son and heir. Aewen gazed into the tiny face, which bore Elcon’s stamp, although the child’s eyes were rounded and a fuzz of black covered her head. “I shall call her Syl Marinda.”

Murial smoothed her brow. “You’ve given her a Kindren name. What does it mean?”

“Snow Daughter.” Kai spoke for her, and she smiled at him, grateful to be spared the effort.

****

Elcon peered through the embrasure and into the distance. The view from the parapet above the barbican did not comfort him. He met Craelin’s grave regard. “How many?”

“Too many to count. That the armies would bear the banners of Glindenn, Selfred and Morgorad we knew. But Tallyrand and Merboth now join the rebels. Faeraven has split in two.” Craelin’s eyes flashed blue fire. “And above them all flies the ancient flag of Rivenn.”

Elcon shook his head. “Freaer mocks me. Have we news from the loyal shraens? Can we stand?”

Craelin hesitated. “Chaeradon, Whellein, Graelinn, and Daeramor all gather to join Rivenn in defense of Torindan, but late snows block the passes.”

“Will they reach us in time?”

“There’s a chance.”

Elcon shut his eyes. Images passed before him, the familiar faces of shraens who now followed Freaer into battle against Torindan—against
him
. His stomach turned at the thought of fighting even one of the hostile ravens. He wanted to weep, to curse, to implore Lof Yuel but instead straightened his spine. He had little choice but to battle his own people.

He had worsened the situation by bringing home an Elder bride. He should have known his people would not accept her. He turned away from the sight of the advancing armies. He had caused this, in his pride and ignorance, when he rejected Shraen Brael. He could admit it now. He’d suspected all along,
known
somehow, that Emmerich was who he claimed to be—a king come to free them all. He had known but still rejected Emmerich. He’d listened to Benisch’s whispers and let fear rule him. He’d worried that Emmerich would grow more important, more powerful than him, and that he would lose control of Faeraven. Out of fear, he’d sent away the very help Lof Yuel had provided and brought his worst fear upon himself. Despite Shae’s sacrifice, salvation would not come to Elderland. Instead terror would reign, many would die, and Elderland would fall into darkness, because of him.

A foul stench of decay suffocated him as an evil touch gripped his mind. Despair flooded him, and he dropped to his knees.

Craelin called to him but he couldn’t answer. Freaer’s touch was nearer and stronger than it had been.

Lof Yuel! In his mind he screamed the name, and the waves battering him ebbed away.

Hands gripped and hoisted him to his feet. He opened his eyes.

Craelin’s anxious face stared back at him. “Lof Shraen, are you ill?”

“Freaer.” He choked out the name.

Understanding dawned on Craelin’s face. He had watched Elcon endure Freaer’s mental assaults through the siege of Torindan.

Elcon walked away from the battlements, his shoulders slumping. He would go to the allerstaed and wait for the release of death, but he would not pray. He did not deserve absolution.

****

Kai cast a glance at Aewen, who lolled backwards against Murial, the babe tied across her front. Her eyelids fluttered as if she tried to open them but could not. Murial met his glance with a worried look. They had bundled Aewen and her child as best they could, but her skin glowed pale in the fading light. The sooner they reached shelter, the better.