Fires of Azeroth

by C. J. Cherryh

  "Khemeis?"

  "We… came to stop the Shiua. To prevent the kind of thing that has come on you."

  "Aye," said Merir after a moment, and breath was held in that place; none stirred. "By destroying the passage. By taking and destroying Nehmin."

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  "We are trying to save this land."

  "But you fear to speak the truth to those who live in it."

  "That out there… that… is the result of the opening of your Gate. Do you want more of it?"

  Merir gazed down on him. His senses blurred; he was shaking convulsively. He had lost the blanket somewhere; he could riot remember.

  Someone put a cloak about him, and he held it close, shivering still.

  "This Man, Roh," Merir said then. "Bring him in."

  It was a moment before Roh came, and that not willingly; but he seemed too weary to fight, and when he was brought to face Merir Vanye looked up and whispered to him: "Lord Merir, cousin; a king in Shathan, and worth respect. Please. For my sake."

  Roh bowed: hall-lord and clan-lord himself, although they had taken his weapons and insulted him, he maintained his dignity, and when he had bowed, he sat down crosslegged on the floor… the latter a courtesy to kinsman rather than to Merir, for he should have demanded a seat on Merir's level or remained standing.

  "Lord Merir," Roh said, "are we free or no?"

  "That is the question, is it not?" Merir's eyes shifted to Vanye's. "Your cousin. And yet you have warned us before now what he is."

  "I beg you, my lord—"

  "Chya Roh." Merir's eyes flashed. "Abomination among us, this thing that you have done. Murder. And how many times have you so done?"

  Roh said nothing.

  "Lord," Vanye said. "He has another half. Will you not remember that?"

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  "That is to be reckoned… for he is both the evil and its victim. I do not know which I see."

  "Do him no harm."

  "No," said Merir. "His harm is within him." And Merir wrapped his cloak the more tightly about him and brooded in silence. "Take them," he said at last. "I must think on these things. Take them and lodge them well."

  Hands settled on them, gentle enough. Vanye struggled to rise and found it beyond his strength, for his one leg was stiff and the other would scarcely hold him. Arrhendim helped him, one on a side, and they were led away to a neighboring tent, where there were soft skins still warm from someone's body. Here they were left, unrestrained, able to have fled, but that they had no strength left. They sprawled where they were let down, and slept.

  * * *

  Day came. A shadow stood against the light in the doorway of the tent. Vanye blinked. The shadow dropped down, and became Sin, squatted with his arms folded across his bare knees, patiently waiting.

  A second presence breathed nearby. Vanye turned his head, saw a qhalur lad, his long white hair and clear gray eyes strange in a child's face; delicate, long hands propped his chin.

  "I do not think you should be here," Vanye whispered to Sin.

  "We may," said the qhalur child, with the absolute assurance of his elders.

  Roh stirred, sat up reaching for weapons that were not there. "Be still,"

  Vanye said. "It is all right, Roh. We are safe with such guards."

  Roh dropped his head against his hands and drew a slow breath.

  "There is food," said Sin brightly.

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  Vanye rolled over and saw that all manner of things had been provided them, water for washing, cloths; a tray of bread, and a pitcher and cups.

  Sin crawled over and sat down there, gravely poured frothing milk into a cup for him and offered it… offered a cup to Roh when Roh held out his hand for it. They breakfasted on butter and bread and a surfeit of goat's milk, the best fare they had had in many days.

  "He is Ellur," said Sin, indicating his qhalur friend, who settled crosslegged near him. "I thank that I may be khemeis to him."

  Ellur soberly inclined his head.

  "Are you all right?" Sin asked, touching his splinted knee with great care.

  "Yes. It is mending. I shall take that off soon."

  "This is your brother?"

  "Cousin," said Roh. "Chya Roh i Chya, young sir."

  They inclined their heads in respect as men might.

  " Khemeis Vanye," said Ellur, "is it true what we have heard, that many Men have come behind you against Shathan?"

  "Yes," he said, for there was no lying to such children.

  "Ellur has heard," said Sin, "that— Lellin and Sezar are lost; and that the lady is hurt."

  "Yes."

  The boys were silent a moment, both looking distressed. "And," said Ellur,

  "that if you go free, then there will be no arrhendim by the time we are grown."

  He could not look away. He met their eyes, dark human and gray qhal, and his belly felt as if he had received a mortal wound. "That could be the truth. But I do not want that. I do not want that at all."

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  There was long silence. Sin gnawed at his lip until it seemed he would draw blood. He nodded finally. "Yes, sir."

  "He is very tired," Roh said after a moment. "Young sirs, perhaps you should speak to him later."

  "Yes, sir," said Sin, and rose up, gently reached out and touched Vanye's arm, bowed his head and exited the tent, Ellur shadowing him like a small pale ghost.

  It was a mercy equal to any Roh had ever shown him. He felt Roh push at him, and lay down, shivering suddenly. Roh flung a cover over him, and sat there wisely saying nothing.

  * * *

  He drowsed at last, found respite in sleep. It did not last. "Cousin," Roh whispered, and shook at him. "Vanye." A shadow fell across the doorway. One of the khemi crouched in the opening. "You are awake," he said. "Good. Come."

  Vanye nodded to Roh's questioning look, and they gathered themselves out of the cramped confines of the tent, stood and blinked in the full daylight outside. There were four arrhendim waiting there.

  "Will Merir see us now?" Vanye asked.

  "Perhaps today; we do not know. But come and we shall see to your comfort."

  Roh hung back, doubting them. "They can do what they will," Vanye said in his own tongue, and Roh yielded then and came. He limped heavily, loath to be moved anywhere, for he was dizzy and sore; but what he had told Roh was the very truth: they had no choice in the matter.

  They came to an ample tent, and entered into it, where sat an old qhalur woman, robed in gray, who regarded them with bright stern eyes and 175

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  looked them up and down, sorry as they were and filthy. "I am Arrhel,"

  she said in a voice that cracked with authority. "Wounds I treat, not dirt."

  She gestured to the young qhal who stood in the rear corner. "Nthien, take them into the back and deal with what you may; arrhendim, assist Nthien where needful."

  The young qhal parted the curtain for them, expecting no argument.

  Vanye went, pausing to bow to the old woman; Roh followed, and their guard trailed them.

  Hot water was already prepared, carried steaming through an opening at the rear of the tent. At Nthien's urging they stripped and washed, even to the hair… Roh must unbind his, which was shame to any man; but so was it to be unwashed, so he only frowned displeasure and did so. Vanye had no such pride left.

  The water stung in the wounds, and Vanye felt fever in his which must be dealt with; Nthien saw that at a glance and a touch, and began to make preparations in that direction. Vanye watched him with dread, for there was likely the cautery for the worst of them. Roh's injuries were scant, and a little salve sufficed for him, and a linen bandage to keep them clean; afterward Roh settled, wrapped in a clean sheet, on a mat in the corner, braiding his hair back into the warrior's knot and watching Nthien's preparations with mistrust equal to his own.
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  "Sit down," Nthien said then to Vanye, indicating the bench where he had set his vessels and instruments. There was no cautery at all. Nthien's gentle hands prepared each wound with numbing salve; some he must open, and he kept the arrhendim coming and going with instruments to be washed, but there was little pain. Vanye simply shut his eyes and relaxed after a number of the worst were done, trusting the qhal's skill and kindness. The numbness proceeded from the most painful to the least of his hurts, and afterward there was no bleeding; clean bandages protected them.

  Then Nthien examined the knee… called in Arrhel, to Vanye's consternation, who laid her wrinkled hands on the joint and felt it flexing.

  "Leave the splint off," she said, then touched her hand to his brow, pressed 176

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  his face between her hands, making him look at her. Regal she was in her aged grace, and her gray eyes were surpassing kind. "You are fevered, child."

  He almost laughed in surprise, that she could call him child; but qhal lived long, and when he looked into those aged eyes, so full of peace, he thought that perhaps most Men to her years were children. She left them, and Roh gathered himself up off the mat, staring after her with a strangely disturbed expression.

  His kind, Vanye thought, and his skin prickled at the thought. Liell's kind… the Old Ones. He was suddenly frightened for Roh, and wanted him quickly out of this place.

  "We are done," said Nthien. "Here. We have found you both clean clothing."

  The khemi offered it to them… soft, sturdy clothing such as the arrhendim wore, green and brown and gray, with boots and belts of good workmanship. They dressed, and the clean cloth next the skin was itself a healing thing, restoring pride.

  Then the arrhendim held back the curtain and showed them again into Arrhel's presence.

  Arrhel was standing at the tripod table which had not been there before.

  She stirred a cup, which she brought then and offered Vanye. "For the fever. It is bitter, but it will help." She gave him a small leather pouch.

  "Here is more of it. Once daily as long as the fever lasts, drink this steeped in water, as much as covers the center of your palm. And you must sleep much and ride not at all, nor wear armor on those wounds; and you must have wholesome food and a great deal of it. But it seems that this is not in anyone's plans. The supply is for your journey."

  "Journey, lady?"

  "Drink the cup."

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  He did so; it was bitter as promised, and he grimaced as he gave it back to her, uneasy at heart. "A journey to or from where I asked lord Merir to go?"

  "He will tell you. I fear I do not know. Perhaps it depends on what you say to him." She took his hand in hers, and her flesh was soft and warm, an old woman's. Her gray eyes looked into him, so that he could not look away.

  Then she let him go and turned, sat down in her chair. She set the cup on the tripod table beside her, and looked at Roh. "Come," she said; and he came, knelt when with her open hand she indicated a place before her—hall-lord though he was, he did so— and she leaned forward and took his face between her hands, gazing into his eyes. Long and long she stared, and Roh shut his eyes finally rather than bear that longer.

  Then she touched her lips to his brow, and yet did not let him go. "For you," she whispered, "I have no cup to drink. There is no healing that my hands can work. I would that I could."

  Her hands fell. Roh thrust himself away and to his feet and came against the warning hand of the khemeis who kept the door, stopped cold.

  Vanye cast a look back at Arrhel, remembered courtesy and bowed; but when the lady then dismissed them, he made haste to take Roh from that place. Roh did not look back or speak, not then nor for a long time after, when they were settled again in their own tent.

  * * *

  Merir sent for them in the afternoon, and they went, escorted by the same several arrhendim. The old lord was wrapped in his feather-cloak, and bore the circlet of gold about his brow; armed Men and qhal were about him. Roh bowed to Merir and sat down on the mat; Vanye knelt and performed the full obeisance, and settled as much as he could off his injured leg.

  Merir's face was grave and stern, and for a long time he was content only to stare at them.

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  " Khemeis Vanye," Merir said at last, "your cousin much troubles what little peace I have found in my mind. What will you that I do with him?"

  "Let him go where I go."

  "So Arrhel has told you that you are leaving."

  "But not where, lord."

  Merir frowned and leaned back, folding his hands before him. "Much evil has your lady loosed on this land. Much harm. And more is to come. I cannot wish this away. The wishes of all the folk of Shathan cannot turn this away. Even yet I fear you have not told me all that you know… yet I must heed you." His eyes flicked to Roh and back again. "The ally that you insist to take: would your lady approve him?"

  "I have told you how we came to be allies."

  "Yes. And yet I think she would warn you. So do I. Arrhel vows she will not sleep soundly for days for his sake, and she warns you. But you will not listen."

  "Roh will keep his word to me."

  "Will he? Perhaps. Perhaps you know best of all. See that it is so, khemeis Vanye. We will go to find your lady Morgaine, and you will go with us…

  So will he, since you insist; I will reserve my judgment. I have misgivings— for many things in this— but go we shall. Your weapons, your belongings, all are yours again. Your freedom, your cousin's. Only you must return me assurance that you will ride under my authority and obey my word as law."

  "I cannot," Vanye said hoarsely, and turned his scarred palm toward Merir. "This means that I am my lady's servant, no one else's. But I will obey you while obeying you serves her; I beg you take that for enough."

  "That is enough."

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  He pressed his brow to the mat in gratitude, only then daring believe they were free.

  "Make ready," Merir said. "We leave very shortly, late in the day as it is.

  Your belongings will be returned to you."

  Such haste was what he himself desired; it was more in all respects than he had dared hope of the old lord… and for an instant suspicion plucked at him; but he bowed again and rose, and Roh stood with him to pay his respect.

  * * *

  They were let out, unguarded, the arrhendim withdrawn. And in their tent they found all that they owned given back to them, as Merir had said, weapons and armor, well-cleaned and oiled. Roh gathered his bow into his hand like a man welcoming an old friend.

  "Roh," Vanye said, suddenly apprehensive at the dark look.

  Roh glanced up. For an instant the stranger was there, cold and menacing, for all the affront the lord Merir had offered him.

  Then Roh slowly shed that anger, as if he willed it so, and laid the bow down on the furs. "Let us leave off wearing the armor, at least until the next day on the trail. There is no need to bear that weight on our aching shoulders, and doubtless we are not immediately in range of our enemies."

  "Roh, deal well with me and I will deal so with you."

  Roh gave him a hard look. "Worried, are you? Abomination. Abomination I am to them. How kind of you to speak for me."

  "Roh—"

  "Did you not tell them about her, about your half- qhal liege? What else is she? Not pure qhal. Nor human. Doubtless she has done what I have done, no higher nor nobler. And I think you have always known it."

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  Almost he struck… held his hand, trembling with the effort; there were the arrhendim outside, their freedom at hazard. "Quiet," he hissed. "Be quiet."

  "I have said nothing. There is much that I could say, and I have not, and you know it. I have not betrayed her."

  It was truth. He stared at Roh's distraught face and reckoned that it was no mor
e and no less than Roh believed. And Roh had not betrayed them.

  "I know it," he said. "I will repay that, Roh."

  "But you are not free to say so, are you? You forget what you are."

  "My word is worth something… among them, and with her."

  Roh's face tautened as if he had been struck. "Ah, you do grow proud, ilin, to think that. And you trade words with qhal-lords in their own language, and dispose of me how you will."

  "You are lord of my mother's clan. I do not forget that. I do not forget that you offered me shelter, in a time when others of my kin would not."

  "Ah, is it 'cousin,' now?"

  There was no appeal to that hardness. It had been there since Arrhel gazed at him. Vanye turned his face from it. "I will do what I said, Roh. See you do the same. If you ask apology as my clan-lord, that I will give; if as my kinsman, that I will give; if it galls you that qhal speak civilly to me and not to you… that involves another side of you that I have no reason to love; with him there is no dealing, and I will not."

  Roh said nothing. Quietly they packed their belongings into what would be easy to carry on the saddles. They put on only their weapons.

  "I will do what I said," Roh offered finally.

  It was Roh again. Vanye inclined his head in the respect he had withheld.

  In not a long time, khemi came to summon them.

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  Chapter 13

  The company was forming up outside Merir's tent… six arrhendim, all told: two younger; two older, the khemeis' hair almost as white as his arrhen's, with faces well-weathered by time; and an older pair of arrhendim, women of the arrhend… not quite as old, for the khemein of that pair had hair equally streaked with silver and dark, while her arrhen, like all qhal, aged yet more slowly and had the look of thirty human years.