The sky overhead was clear and blue as could be. The air was almost deceptively warm. Stiger felt like taking off his bearskin cloak, almost. He knew it only felt warm because the temperature over the last few weeks had been well below freezing. And though it felt like a heat wave, it was still cold and so he kept the cloak on.
Having finally left the forest behind—it had taken nearly four weeks to travel from Vrell—they were now marching through abandoned and overgrown farm fields. It was a land almost completely empty of people, the result of the rebellion, which had burned its way through the South long before he and Eli had arrived from the North.
Braddock’s army was camped less than a dozen miles away. Much of the legion had already made its way past the spot where Stiger now stood, moving toward the fortified dwarven encampment. After the elves would come the auxiliaries and then the rearguard.
As if on parade, formed up into four ranks, one of Tenya’Far’s elven companies was passing before them. With flashes of sunlight glinting brightly under the midday sun, the elves looked quite splendid in their polished chainmail armor and helms. They carried oval-shaped shields that had been painted with intricate patterns and runes. The elves wore heavy packs and were all armed with swords and short spears. This was the second of the eight elven infantry companies to make their way by.
“Eyes right,” the captain of the company shouted in Elven. The warriors’ heads snapped to the right, toward Stiger. The officer offered Stiger a crisp salute. Surprisingly, it was a legionary salute, fist to chest.
“Lokeen’Han,” Eli said quietly to Stiger, “captain of the Radiant Aternat Company. They are a very old formation and were around during the time of your first emperor, Karus. They fought alongside his legionaries. This is one of the warden’s finest fighting formations, you could say almost the pride of my people, if we felt such for warriors.”
Stiger gave a mental nod to that information and returned Lokeen’s salute. Then the captain was past them.
“They show you great honor,” Eli said.
Stiger rubbed his jaw as he considered the elves, their boots crunching in unison on the dry roadbed.
“When I lived amongst your people”—Stiger gestured toward the company as he glanced over at Eli—“they were either outright hostile to the point of offense or pretended I did not exist.”
“Not all of them,” Eli said.
“Enough so that it was uncomfortable,” Stiger said. “I was left with the impression I was not a welcome visitor.”
“We don’t allow very many humans into our lands,” Eli said with a pained look. “Such a thing is an incredibly rare event. I am saddened to admit there were some who resented your presence.”
“That is a bit of an understatement,” Stiger said. “Don’t you think?”
Eli did not respond, so Stiger decided to continue.
“Being resentful is fine, but that did not make it right. I wonder how I’d be received now?”
“Time changes all things,” Eli said.
“You sound like Taha’Leeth,” Stiger replied.
“Do I?” Eli asked. “I could see how I might. Consider it a High Born thing.”
“Oh really?”
Eli gave a shrug of his shoulders. “We elves see time passing differently than others.”
Stiger scratched at an itch on his arm as he regarded his friend for a long moment. From the day’s march Stiger was coated with a film of road dust. It was even in his mouth, and no matter how much he tried to wash it out, he could still feel the grit on his teeth. Dust was one of a legionary’s worst enemies.
“Taha’Leeth says I will begin seeing things like you,” Stiger said, “as the years ahead pass one after another.”
Eli glanced over at him, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, before quickly looking away. They had not spoken on his newfound longevity. When they’d seen each other over the past few weeks, Eli had appeared uncomfortable whenever Stiger had hinted at it or been on the verge of bringing it up. Instead, he’d danced around the issue, actively working to change the subject.
Seeing his friend’s reaction, Stiger figured it was time they got the matter out in the open and before them.
“How do you feel about that?” Stiger pressed, switching to Elven, so those nearest men could not understand what was said between them. “The change in me, the added years, all of it. I want to hear your thoughts.”
“Are you sure you wish to discuss this now?” Eli asked, replying in Elven. “Here?”
“You know I do,” Stiger said. “I do not like anything to get in the way of our friendship.”
“Neither do I,” Eli said quietly. “Our friendship is secure. You need not worry yourself.”
“Well then?” Stiger asked. “I would have your thoughts.”
Eli did not immediately reply, instead turning his gaze to watch elven warriors march by. And so, Stiger settled in to wait the elf out.
Lokeen’s company gave way to another, this one marching in two ranks. At the van, a standard-bearer marched directly behind two officers. A green hawk was emblazoned on the banner.
The senior officer, wearing armor that seemed almost too ornate to be practical, marched to the front of his company. The officer’s shield, oval like the others, was painted and etched with what looked like golden runes. At his right hand and a step behind was his lieutenant. Both had their swords drawn.
“Eyes right,” the officer shouted. Obediently, the warriors’ heads snapped to the right. The officer and his lieutenant both saluted by looking to the right also and bringing the blades up before their faces.
“Captain Ensil’Ket,” Eli said, “First Company of the Anasadoom. Their history is even more ancient than the Radiant Aternat. Each member is an elder, what you would consider a head of household in the empire. They have not seen any action for quite some time, but that does not mean they can’t fight. I would consider each the equivalent of one of your battle-hardened veterans. Though, with their proficiency with weapons, I would think they would be superior fighters.”
The name of the company meant nothing to Stiger, as he was unfamiliar with elven formations, but Eli’s background information helped him learn what he needed to know about the elves. It also reminded him of who his allies were. He’d never imagined that the elves had so many warriors, for when he’d lived amongst them, he’d been left with the impression Eli’s people were far from numerous. It seemed that might not have been true.
Stiger returned the officer’s salute and wondered how many of those paying him respect now inwardly despised and resented him for his relationship with Taha’Leeth. He looked over at Eli once the officers had passed, feeling inpatient.
“Are you going to let me die of old age or will you answer me?”
Eli eyed him for a long moment before speaking. “You’re going to live a lot longer than the average human.”
“Is that all you have to say on the matter?” Stiger asked. “I already knew that.”
“The added years do give me more time to, shall we say, push you over the edge.” Eli shot him a closed-mouth grin. “As you know, it is my mission in life.”
Stiger had to chuckle.
“It is good that you think I jest,” Eli said, “for I am very serious.”
Stiger felt a sudden fondness for his friend. Over the last few weeks of marching, they had hardly seen one another. He’d seen Taha’Leeth more than Eli. They had both been busy, and yet Stiger knew that Eli had been avoiding him and this very conversation. Why, he did not know, though behind Eli’s amusement he detected a certain grimness.
“If you haven’t been able to do it yet,” Stiger said gamely, “I doubt you ever will.”
“Ben, remember we’re talking about time,” Eli said. “With your newfound longevity, I have all the time that I will need to turn you into a gibbering wreck of the man you are today.”
Stiger gave a grunt and turned his attention back to the elven company. A team of six heavily laden ponie
s trailed behind the warriors. Unlike the legions, the elves seemed to prefer ponies over mules for their supply trains.
“The ponies even offer you their respect,” Eli said.
“Do they speak to you like the trees do?” Stiger asked and cupped a hand to his ear. “Is that a pony song I hear?”
“No.” Eli’s grin became a tad wider. “They don’t speak to me. I can just tell. You have most definitely earned their respect.”
“Have I now?” Stiger asked. “If this is your idea of trying to drive me nuts, it’s a pretty feeble attempt, even for you. I know you can do better.”
“Consider it a start. I am beginning small….think baby steps, Ben.”
“Right,” Stiger said, “baby steps. Seriously though…back to my question.”
“They do offer you great respect,” Eli said, after Stiger had exchanged a salute with the next captain.
“The ponies or your fellow elves?” Stiger asked.
“As the High Father’s Champion,” Eli said, ignoring the comment, “you have great standing amongst my people.”
“All it took was a god’s favor, eh?” Stiger asked. “And as Taha’Leeth’s mate?”
Eli hesitated a heartbeat. “Ah…it was not welcome news for most.”
Stiger could imagine.
“Some see it as the gods’ will, divine intervention. Others…well, let’s just say they don’t like it…not at all.”
“Nothing is ever easy,” Stiger said with a small shake of his head.
“With you, it is always the hard path,” Eli said. “You never take the easier one, like settling down with Miranda.”
“Miranda? The emperor’s sister?” Stiger asked, looking over. With his trip to the past, he’d not thought of her in years. “You can’t be serious?”
“She was rather fond of you.”
“Right,” Stiger said. “She was looking for someone to settle down with.”
“Miranda is the perfect example of what I am talking about. By not entertaining the possibility of marriage, you chose the hard way… Let me add to that, with you…there is no easy way. I think it is perhaps one of the reasons I enjoy tagging along with you.”
“I am beginning to suspect you are on to something there, my friend,” Stiger said and glanced briefly back at his escort. Ruga had allowed most of the century to down yokes and relax. The men were sitting on the ground, digging through haversacks or reclining about, enjoying the unexpected break. Two were even engaged in a game of dice.
The centurion, however, stood a few feet back from Stiger and Eli, with two men. They were close enough to be at hand, should the need arise. The centurion’s eyes were on the elves marching by. They were wary, suspicious.
“And your father?” Stiger asked, turning back to Eli. “What does he think?”
“Bah,” Eli said, expelling a frustrated breath. The elf waved a dismissive hand. “As if he’d ever consider confiding in me.”
It was rare for his friend to show exasperation. Eli caught the look and scowled slightly.
“He’s not talking to you?” Stiger surmised.
“No,” Eli admitted after a moment. “He refuses to see me. I think he still blames me for bringing you home, like some stray I found.”
“Perhaps it’s the father who’s intentionally driving the son crazy.” Stiger grinned at Eli. “Wouldn’t that be a twist? The boot would be on the other foot for a change.”
“You know he and I never really got along,” Eli said. “It’s one of the reasons I felt drawn to you, Ben.”
“Oh?”
“You, like me”—Eli placed a hand to his chest—“have your own daddy issues.”
“We both know why you attached yourself to me and Seventh Company all those years ago,” Stiger said, “now, don’t we?”
“You have me there,” Eli said and hesitated a moment. “You must have wondered on it for so long…”
“As in, why me?” Stiger asked. “And why Seventh Company?”
Eli gave a nod.
“I did wonder,” Stiger said. “At first I thought it might be due to your history with Tiro. But then, as the years passed…I began to wonder, to question. Now I know the truth and why you could say nothing.”
“Finally.” Eli clapped his hands softly together. “Everything is out in the open between us.”
“Almost,” Stiger replied. “You still have not answered my original question.”
“I did not?” Eli shot him an innocent look.
“No. You told me about how others feel, instead.”
“You know me only too well,” Eli said, growing grave. “Are you certain you wish me to give you my thoughts?”
“I am.”
Eli hesitated. “As a true friend, I am saddened for you. The world in which we live is one of change. Nothing at all is permanent, not the trees, the rocks…everything you see lacks permanence. All things, given time, change, some more slowly than others…”
He sucked in a breath and let it out as a heavy sigh. “I feel wretched, for you will suffer, like we do. That is the curse with which we elves must live.” Eli pointed at him. “And now you will share the deep sadness with us. It is one of the reasons why we lock ourselves in our forests and away from others…those with shorter lifespans. And why some would pretend you did not exist or wish you gone from our domain.” Eli gestured at the elves marching by. “It is why our elders rarely leave the confines of our lands. We elves, the High Born, named so by the gods, are lovers of life. We despise death with a passion. Even when we have to take life...we hate it. Death is change. You see, Ben, it is not that my people dislike you. They simply do not want to know you, to grow to care for you, just to have to watch you age and then die. Loss for us is incredibly painful.”
Eli fell silent. Stiger looked over at his friend and felt himself scowl. What Eli had revealed gave him serious pause. He turned his gaze back to the elves marching by, seeing them with new eyes, a dawning understanding.
“The torment of watching the world change,” Stiger said, “without being able to fully stop it from doing so. That is the curse.”
“Partly,” Eli said. “The worst part is watching those you care about die and over time your memory of them fades. Yes, it is memory…which is the most painful. For as the years pass…memory fails to the point where you can’t remember the faces of the ones you loved. I myself have already experienced this with…” Eli cleared his throat. “With a friend by the name of Kyven.”
Stiger said nothing as Eli seemed to look inward.
“He was a man like yourself,” Eli continued after a long moment. “Someone I tagged along with, sharing the dangers he encountered. He was kind of like you, actually, attracted all bunches of trouble and kept me terribly entertained.” Eli let out a shuddering breath. His eyes watered and he looked away. “Only now, four hundred odd years later…” Eli cleared his throat again and turned back to face him, grief-stricken. “Ben, I can’t remember what he looked like. You have no idea how painful that is to me. As a friend, I owe him more than to simply forget him. It is so unfair, but that is how it is. That is the true suffering of my people. Do you understand my pain? Our pain?”
“I do,” Stiger said in barely a whisper. He clapped a hand to the elf’s shoulder. “I do, Eli. I really do.”
Stiger already knew what Eli spoke of. Over the years, he’d lost a good number of men. Some he remembered; others he could not recall what they looked like or even their names. All had served under his command. It troubled him greatly when he thought on it.
They both fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts. Stiger turned his attention back up the road in the direction of the forest and Vrell, which was no longer in view. From the morning’s reports, the artillery and supply train lagged as much as fifty miles behind. In the last few days, the artillery had begun making better progress as the road hardened, but they were still well behind the main body. He found it incredibly frustrating, but there was nothing to be done to speed t
hem up.
“What do you think Miranda will make of Taha’Leeth?” Eli asked, wiping at his eyes with the back of a hand.
Stiger felt himself scowl at the change of subject. “What?”
“I assume once we link up with the dwarves,” Eli said, “we will begin moving north. Have you given her any thought? You might see her again if we make it all the way back to Mal’Zeel. Perhaps the real question is…what do you think Taha’Leeth will think of your former lover?”
Stiger chuckled as the mood between them lightened. Miranda had never been his lover and Eli well knew that.
“You know…I don’t really care,” Stiger said and then laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. His gaze returned to the elves marching by. “Emperor’s sister or no, she and I were never meant to be. Besides, a life at court is not one I find inviting, let alone appealing. Too much intrigue, backbiting. There are too many ass kissers. You well know that, especially after what we went through in Thresh.”
“Thresh,” Eli said. “Now that was an exciting time.”
“We almost both died,” Stiger said. “It was perhaps a little too exciting.”
“Almost doesn’t quite count. We survived to tell that tale. That’s what matters.”
They fell silent again. Three more companies marched by, with Eli giving their names, backgrounds, and pointing out the officers. After exchanging salutes, Stiger found his thoughts shifting away from the elves. It had taken weeks of travel, but tonight, he and his men would be reunited with Braddock’s army. Stiger was looking forward to seeing the thane again.
Three days prior, Braddock had fought a small battle with the enemy. A garrison in a town had marched against him, coming out from behind the protection of the town’s walls. The enemy commander had brought four thousand rebel soldiers against the thane. He’d clearly not known Braddock’s strength. If he had, he would have sat back behind the town’s stone walls and waited, likely quaking in fear. Had he done so, they would have been forced to deal with the garrison before moving on. But he hadn’t.
The Tiger’s Wrath (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 5) Page 27
