Fires of Azeroth

by C. J. Cherryh

  "What is that?" Roh asked.

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  "A village. You should know it. The Shiua murdered one of its people."

  Then he repented his words, for they were both at the end of their strength and their wits, and he needed no quarrel with Roh. "Come. Carefully."

  He sought the rutted road and found it, concealed as it was now by brush.

  He walked as quickly as he could with his limping stride, for the night was coming fast on them. From this place, he thought, he might try to find Merir's camp… but he was not sure of the way, and the chance was that Merir would have broken camp and left the place even if he could find it.

  He was only anxious now to put the harilim behind them before the dark came on them again.

  Through the trees suddenly appeared a haze of open space, and when they had reached that edge there were only shells of stone and burned skeletons of timber where Mirrind had stood. He swore when he saw it, and leaned against one of the trees by the roadside. Roh wisely said nothing at that moment, and he swallowed the tightness from his throat and started forward, keeping to the shadow of trees and ruins.

  The crops still grew, although weeds had set in; and the ruins of the hall were mostly intact. But the desolation, where beauty had been, was complete.

  "We cannot stay here," Roh said. "This is within reach of the Sotharra camp. Shien's men. We have come too far. Use some sense, cousin. Let us get out of the open."

  He lingered yet a moment, staring about him, then turned painfully and began to do as Roh had advised.

  An arrow hit the dirt at their feet, quivered there, brown-feathered.

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  Chapter 12

  Roh started back from the arrow as from a serpent, reaching for his own bow. "No," Vanye said, holding him from flight.

  "Friends of yours."

  "Once. Maybe still. — Arrhendim, Iher nthim ahallya Meriran! "

  There was no response. "You are full of surprises," Roh said.

  "Be still," he answered. His voice shook, for he was very tired, and the silence dismayed him. If the arrhendim themselves had turned against him, then there was no hope.

  "Khemeis." The voice came from behind him.

  He turned. A Man stood there, a khemeis. It was not any that he knew.

  "Come."

  He began to do so, bringing Roh with him. The khemeis melted back into the forest, and when they had reached that place there was no sign that he had stood there. They walked further into the shadow.

  Suddenly a white-haired qhal shifted into their view, from the shadow of the trees. His bow was bent, and a brown-feathered arrow was aimed at them.

  "I am Lellin Erirrhen's friend," Vanye said. "And khemeis to Morgaine.

  This man is my cousin."

  The arrow did not waver. "Where is Lellin?"

  Then his heart sank, and he leaned on his staff, little caring whether the arrow was fired.

  "Where is Lellin?"

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  "With my lady. And I do not know. I hoped that the arrhendim would."

  "Your cousin bears lord Merir's safe-passage. But that is good only for him who bears it."

  "Take us to Merir. I have an accounting to give him for his grandson."

  Slowly the arrow was lowered and eased from the bowstring. "We will take you where we please. One of you does not have leave to be here.

  Which?"

  "I," Roh confessed, lifting the amulet from his neck. He gave it into Vanye's hand.

  "You will both come with me."

  Vanye nodded when Roh looked questioningly at him; and he hung the amulet again about his neck and, heavily, limped in the qhal's wake.

  * * *

  There was no stopping until long after dark; and then the arrhen halted and settled among the roots of a large tree. Vanye sank down, Roh beside him, tucked his good leg up and rested against it, exhausted. But Roh shook at him after a moment. "They offer us food and drink," Roh said. Vanye bestirred himself and took it, small appetite as he had now; afterward he leaned against the base of a tree and gazed at the arrhendim… two now, for the khemeis had joined them.

  "Do you know nothing of where Lellin or my lady is?" Vanye asked them.

  "We will not answer," said the qhal.

  "Do you count us enemies?"

  "We will not answer."

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  Vanye shook his head and abandoned hope with them, rested his head against the bark.

  "Sleep," said the qhal, and spread his cloak and wrapped in it, becoming one with the tree against which he leaned; but the khemeis vanished quietly into the brush.

  * * *

  There was a different qhal and a different khemeis in the morning. Vanye looked at them, blinked, disturbed that they had shifted about so silently. Roh cast him a sidelong glance no less disturbed.

  "I am Tirrhen," said the qhal. "My khemeis is Haim. We will take you farther."

  "Nhi Vanye and Chya Roh," Vanye replied. "Where?"

  The qhal shrugged. "Come."

  "You are more courteous than the last," Roh said, and took Vanye's arm, helping him rise.

  "They are Mirrind's guardians," Tirrhen replied. "Would you expect joy of them?"

  And Tirrhen turned his back and vanished, so that it was Haim who walked with them a time. "Be silent," the khemeis said when Roh ventured to speak; it was all he said. They walked all the day save brief rests, and Vanye flung himself down at the midafternoon stop and lay still a good moment before he had caught his breath, eyes blurred and half-closed.

  Roh's hand touched his. "Take the armor off. I shall carry it. You are done, otherwise."

  He rolled over and began to do so, while Roh helped him. The khemeis watched, and finally offered them food and drink, although they had had a little at noon.

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  "We have sent for horses," Haim said. Vanye nodded, relieved at that.

  "There is no word," Vanye said again, trying another approach, "what became of my party."

  "No. Not that we know. And we know what there is to be known in this part of Shathan."

  "But others might have contact elsewhere." Hope sprang up in him, swiftly killed by Haim's grim look.

  "What there is of news is not good, khemeis. I understand your grief. I have said too much. Get up and let us be going."

  He did so, with Roh's help. The lack of the armor was relief. He made it until nightfall before he was utterly winded and halted in his tracks.

  It was Tirrhen with them now, and not Haim; and Tirrhen showed no intention of stopping. "Come," he said. "Come on."

  Roh flung an arm about him and steadied him. They followed Tirrhen until Roh himself was staggering badly.

  Then a clearing lay ahead of them in the starlight, and four arrhendim waited with six horses. "They mean we should keep going," Roh said, and his voice nigh broke.

  Vanye looked, and knew none of them. He was helped to one of the saddleless horses, which was haltered only, and led by one of the arrhendim. Roh mounted the other without their help, and silently the party started to move.

  Vanye leaned forward and rested against the horse's neck, instinct and habit keeping him astride over rough ground and through winding trails.

  The pain subsided to something bearable. The horse's patient strength comforted him. He slept at times, though once it cost him a bruise on a low branch: he bent back under it and slumped forward again, little the worse for it among so many other hurts. They moved through the night 165

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  like shadows, and by morning they had reached another clearing, where more horses waited for them, with another escort.

  He did not even dismount, but leaned, grasped a mane, and drew himself to the other horse. The party started forward, with no offering to them of food or water. Vanye ceased even to care, although suc
h was finally offered at noon, without stopping. He rode numbly, silent as their escort was silent. Roh was still there, some distance behind… he saw that when he would look back. Arrhendim rode between them so that they could not speak to each other. They had not been disarmed, he realized at last, which heartened him; he trusted that Roh still had his armor and his weapons, for Roh had his own. He himself was beyond using any, and wished only for a cloak, for he was cold, even in daylight.

  He asked finally, recalling that these were qhal, not Hetharu's halfling breed, and not by nature cruel. He was given a blanket to wrap himself in as they rode, and they offered him food and drink besides, all with little delay in their riding. Only twice in the day did they dismount even for a moment.

  At nightfall there was another change of horses, and new guides took over.

  Vanye returned the blanket, but the qhal gently put it back about him and sent him on into the night with the new escort.

  The arrhendim who had them in charge now were more than gentle with them, as if their condition aroused pity in them; but again at dawn, mercilessly, they were passed to others, and both of them now had to be helped to mount.

  Vanye had no memory of how many changes there had been; it all merged into nightmare. There were always whistles and sounds about them now, as if they rode some well-marked highroad in the wood, one well-watched… but none of those watchers came into their view.

  The trees here loomed up monstrous in size, of different sort than they had seen. The trunks were like walls beside them, and the place existed in shade that made it always twilight.

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  Night settled on them in that place, a starless dark beneath that canopy of branches; but there was the scent of smoke in the air, and one of their horses whinnied a greeting to another.

  Light gleamed. Vanye braced his hands on the horse's moving shoulders, and stared at that soft glow, at the assemblage of tents gathered amid those great trunks, color showing in the firelight. He blinked through tears of exhaustion, fragmenting the image.

  "Merir's camp?" he asked of the Man who led his horse.

  "He has sent for you," that Man said, but no more would he say.

  Music drifted to them, qhalur and beautiful. It died at their coming. Folk left the common-fire and stood as a dark line of shadows along the course that they rode into camp.

  The arrhendim stopped and bade them dismount. Vanye slid down holding the mane, and needed the bracing of two arrhendim to keep his feet as they guided him, for his legs were weak and the ceaseless motion of the horses still ruled his senses, so that the very earth seemed to heave under him.

  "Khemeis!"

  A cry went up. A small body impacted his and embraced him. He stopped, freed a shaking hand and touched the dark head that rested against his heart. It was Sin.

  "How did you come here?" he asked the boy, out of a thousand questions that he wondered, the only one that made clear sense.

  The wiry arms did not let him go; small hands clenched in the sides of his shirt as the arrhendim urged him to start walking, and drew him on.

  "Carrhend moved," Sin said. "Riders came. It burned."

  "Go away, lad," said the khemeis at the right— gently. "Go away."

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  "I came," Sin said; his hands did not unclench. "I went into the forest to find the qhal. They brought me here."

  "Did Sezar come back? Or Lellin?"

  "No. Ought they? Where is the lady?"

  "Leave him," said the khemeis. "Lad— do as you are told."

  "Go away from me," Vanye said heavily. "Sin, I am not in good favor with your people. Go away as he tells you."

  The hands relaxed, withdrew. Sin lagged behind. But then as he walked Vanye caught sight of him, staying to one side, trailing them forlornly. He walked, for they would not let him do otherwise, to Merir's tent. They brought him at once inside, but Roh was left behind: he did not realize that until he was faced about in front of Merir's chair.

  The old qhal sat wrapped in a plain gray cloak, and his eyes were sad, glittering in the light of the lamps. "Let him go," Merir said; they did, gently, and Vanye sank down to one knee and bowed himself to the mat in respect.

  "You are sorely hurt," Merir said.

  It was not the opening he had expected of the old lord, whose grandson was lost, whose line was threatened, whose land was invaded. Vanye bowed again, shaking with exhaustion, and sat back. "I do not know where Lellin is," he said hoarsely. "I want leave to go, my lord, to find him and my lady."

  Merir's brows contracted. The old lord was not alone in the tent; grim armed Men and qhal were about him, force at need; and there were the elders, whose eyes were darkened with anger. But Merir's frown held more of pain than of wrath. "You do not know the state of things here. We know that you crossed the Narn. And after that, the harilim, the dark ones… have severed us from the region. Is it not so, that you went to find Nehmin?"

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  "Yes, lord."

  "Because your lady would have it so, against my wishes. Because she was set on this thing; and warnings would not deter her. Now Lellin is gone, and Sezar; and she is lost; and war is upon us." The anger did come, and stilled, and the gray eyes brooded in the lamplight, lifted slowly once more. "I saw all these things in her. I saw in you only what I see now. Tell me, Khemeis, all that happened. I shall hear you. Tell me everything and spare no detail. It may be that some tiny scrap of knowledge will help us understand the rest."

  He did so. His voice failed him in the midst of it, and they gave him drink; he continued, in their stark silence.

  There was silence even after he had finished.

  "Please," he asked of Merir, "give me a horse and one for my cousin too.

  Our weapons. Nothing more. We will go and find them."

  The silence continued. In the weight of it, he reached to his neck and lifted off the chain that bore the amulet, tendered it to Merir. When Merir made no move to take it, he laid it on the mat before him, for his hand could not hold it longer without shaking.

  "Then let us go out as we are," Vanye said. "My lady is lost. I want only to go and find her and those with her."

  "Man," said Merir at last, "why did she seek Nehmin?"

  He was dismayed by the question, for it shot to the heart of things that Morgaine had withheld from their knowledge. "Does it not control Azeroth?" he countered. "Does it not control the place where our enemies are?"

  "Were," said another.

  He swallowed, clenched his hands in his lap to keep them from trembling.

  "Whatever is amiss out there is my doing. I take responsibility for it. I told 169

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  you why they came; they pursued me, and Nehmin has nothing to do with that. My lady is hurt. I do not know if she is still alive. I swear to you that she is not at fault in bringing attack on you."

  "No," said Merir. "Perhaps she is not. But never yet have you told us all the truth. She asked truth of me. She asked trust. And trust have I given, to the very edge of war and the loss of our people's lives and homes. Yes, I see your enemies for what they are; and they are evil. But never yet have you told us all the truth. You and she crossed through the harilim. That is no small thing. You dared use the harilim in escaping your enemies; and you survive… and that amazes me. The dark ones hold you in uncommon regard— Man that you are. And now you ask us to trust you once more.

  You wish to use us to set you on your way, and never once have you told us truth. We shall not harm you, do not fear that; but loose you again to work more chaos in our land… no. Not with my question still unanswered."

  "What will you ask, lord?" He bowed again to the mat, trembling, and sat back. "Ask me tomorrow. I think that I should answer you. But I am tired and I cannot think."

  "No," said another qhal, and leaned on Merir's chair to speak to the old lord. "Will a night's rest improve the t
ruth? Lord, think of Lellin."

  Merir considered a moment. "I ask," he said at last, though his old eyes seemed troubled at the unkindness. "I do ask, khemeis. In all cases your life is safe, but your freedom is not."

  "Would a khemeis be asked to betray his lord's confidence?"

  That told upon all of them; there were doubtful looks among these honorable folk. But Merir bit his lip and looked sadly at him.

  "Is there something then to betray, khemeis?"

  Vanye blinked slowly, forcing the haze away, and shook his head. "We never wished you harm."

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  "Why Nehmin, khemeis?"

  He tried to think what to answer, and could not; and shook his head yet again.

  "Do we then guess that she means some harm to Nehmin? That is what we must conclude. And we must be alarmed that she has had the power to pass the harilim. And we must never let you go."

  There was nothing else to say, and even silence was no safety. The friendship that they had enjoyed was gone.

  "She wished to seize Nehmin," Merir said. "Why?"

  "Lord, I will not answer you."

  "Then it is an act which aims at us… or the answer would do no harm."

  He looked at the old qhal in terror, knowing that he should devise something to say, something of reason. He pointed vaguely and helplessly back toward Azeroth, from which he had come. "We oppose that. That is the truth, lord."

  "I do not think we have truth at all until it involves Nehmin. She means to seize power there. No. Then what else might she intend? ' The danger is to more worlds than this one…' Her words. They sweep much wider than Azeroth, khemeis. Do I dare guess she means to destroy Nehmin?"

  He thought that he must have flinched. The shock was evident too in the faces that watched. There was heaviness in the air such that it was hard to draw breath.