Once A Hero

by Michael A. Stackpole

  His nattering proved easy to ignore, primarily because Earl Blackoak's cellars contained superior vintages. A different wine came with each course, and the better ones actually made up for the paucity of food and the state of the cuisine. Gena took care in drinking because she did not want to be drunk when it came time to sleep in this strange place. Berengar and his uncle consumed their wine with much more enthusiasm, and the more intoxicated Atholwin became, the more sensible and coherent was his conversation.

  With uncharacteristic strength he hammered his fist against the table, then thrust a finger toward Berengar. "You are here to kill me. You want it all yourself, don't you, boy?"

  Berengar smiled at first, then became wary when the angry tone in Athoiwin's voice cut through the wine. "No, uncle, I do not want you dead. I came here to see you because I am traveling north."

  "Spying for Hardelwick are you? He doesn't trust me, though I have pledged my fealty to him. I'll see you swing for this betrayal, Berengar."

  The vehemence and energy in the old man shocked Gena. "My lord, Berengar speaks truly. He is not here to kill you."

  The old man turned on her, his eyes frighteningly clear. "Lies! I have my sources. I know his mind and yours. Betrayers both, now and forever."

  "Uncle!" Berengar threw his napkin on the table and came around to Gena's side. "You have had too much to drink."

  "I am not powerless, Berengar." The man's eyes widened, and spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth. "You will see. You and the sylvanesti witch. You plot against us and you will pay!"

  Tobert stepped from the shadows and helped Atholwin from his chair, then passed him into the keeping of two soldiers. The raven took one last morsel from his plate, then flew off into the shadows in the room's vaults. Tobert shivered and slid his master's chair into place.

  "I must apologize for him, my lord and lady."

  Berengar straightened up and folded his arms. "Is he normally like this?"

  "It has been getting worse, my lord. This outburst, it is not unique. This time he directed it at you, but often he rebukes the shades of his sons Osberic and Analdric for their plots against him. Please, wait here a moment."

  Gena looked up at Berengar as the servant disappeared. "What now?"

  "I don't know, but I do not like the idea of my weapons' being in my room."

  Tobert returned with an old bottle and two tiny glasses. "Your uncle is considerate when not in one of his moods. He specifically told me to make sure this brandy was served tonight. It is very good and will help steady your nerves." He looked off in the direction the soldiers had taken the old man. "I will get some into him later and make arrangements for you to leave by first light so this encounter is not repeated."

  Gena accepted the brandy and forced herself to sip it. It did taste very good and warmed her throat and stomach. She watched Berengar quaff his drink, so she followed suit with the remainder of hers. Tobert then led them from the dining hall back to their rooms.

  "Please, do not think harshly of Earl Blackoak. He remembers many enemies without remembering they are dead."

  "We understand, Tobert. Lady Gena and I will be ready to ride at dawn."

  Gena bowed toward Berengar and bid him a good night before retreating to her own room. Once she had closed the door, the musty, dusty room made her think of a tomb. She got herself ready for bed and lay down, but her mind remained active enough to hold sleep at bay. Every creak and windsigh sent shivers down her spine. Her reactions disgusted her because she knew she was far too old to be cowering in bed like a scared child.

  She got up again and remembered how Rik's presence had made her feel secure no matter how unsettling or difficult a circumstance had been. Things could be worse, he'd say, unless we take steps to make them better. She smiled at the memory and decided to take his advice to heart. After some preparation, which included sliding the chair beneath the doorknob, she returned to bed and surrendered to sleep.

  "Arise, Sylvan witch, and look upon the instrument of your death!"

  Gena's eyes came open, and her breath caught in her throat. A half-dozen men in white robes stood around her bed. Three of them, two at either side of the head and a third far back at the foot, remained motionless and bore thick black candles with odd sigils worked into them. The names wavered and capered in perfect synchronization with each other. With each flicker she felt the ebb and flow of energies that blocked her ability to concentrate enough to work magick, and she knew that as long as those three men remained magickally linked, she would be powerless.

  Within the triangle, two men with silver swords flanked Atholwin. The old man, whose limbs showed none of the signs of the weakness or palsy she had seen earlier, held a wavy-edged dagger out for her inspection. The raven on his shoulder made no sound, but its eyes glowed with an unholy red light that splashed bloody highlights over the blade's razor edge.

  "We saw betrayal in you, witch, and that will not do." The old man cackled, and his lips quivered as he raised the blade and leaned forward. "Betrayal is lying, and now you must be severed from the Truth."

  Chapter 20:

  The Hostility Of A Familiar Wood

  Autumn

  Reign of the Red Tiger Year 3

  Imperium Year 1

  five Centuries Ago

  My Thirty-seventh Year

  ***

  DESPITE THE DESIRE by the Elves to leave immediately, Emperor Bettran Primus talked Aarundel into being feted before we departed. While the formality of the feast, and the lies called testimonials, made me twitch, I genuinely enjoyed myself. And when the Steel Pack lined the road leading out to the east so our party had to pass beneath their crossed lances, my heart swelled with so much pride, I thought it would burst.

  And even the emperor wore a branded glove on his left hand when he saw us off.

  The ambassador remained in Jarudin along with his servants and a dozen Lansorii. Another dozen Lansorii accompanied us on the road and, to an Elf, they seemed less than pleased to have me along. The Dreel filled out our party and we traveled light because, using the magical Elven pathways, our journey would take only four days to reach the edge of the Elven Holdings and another week to reach Cygestolia itself.

  We departed from Jarudin early in the morning and rode east despite Cygestolia being almost due west of the Capital. The nearest grove in the Elven network lay to the east not more than twenty-five miles, so we took our time reaching it. Our party actually spread out on the road, with a half-dozen warriors as point and flank guards and six as the rear guard. The fact that Shijef ranged far and wide through the woods surrounding the road did not appear to attract their notice, nor did Larissa's and my riding slowly and trailing the whole company.

  The two of us did not talk much on the ride, but not out of fear of being overheard, for the Lansorii stayed as far away from us as they could. We didn't need to speak as we rode through sun-spotted forests and beside gurgling streams. It seemed enough that we were sharing the experience of the ride together. I drank in every detail I could of the landscape and would have gladly used it to replace my recollections of all the battles I had fought during my life. My martial past seemed but an illusion when Larissa and I were together.

  When we reached the grove, I set up a campsite removed from that shared by the Elves. While Aarundel, Marta, and Larissa—especially Larissa—were solicitous toward me, the other Elves clearly wanted as little as possible to do with me. Aarundel was so happy to be with Marta again, I don't think he noticed their attitude toward me. Though I could not blame him for their feelings or for his ignorance of them, I did feel a bit abandoned. Seated alone, poking deadwood sticks into a fire, melancholy began to smother me like clouds descending on a mountaintop.

  The Dreel sat himself down on his haunches across from the fire and watched me with scintillating red eyes. "Alone you are now. Alone am I, by your doing."

  My head came up. "You are alone because you entered a contest and lost."

  "And lost you h
ave here, Dreelmaster Neal."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Lost, have I?"

  Shijef nodded solemnly. "In war you live. Wither in peace, you will. Aarundel leaves and you die."

  "Ah, you have become a soothsayer, have you?"

  A growl rumbled deep in his throat, and I saw the flash of bright claws, but the Dreel remained where he sat watching me. "Defeated I was, and abided by our bargain I have. I will. You my master are."

  "But you could now defeat me."

  "Could. Will not. Lost once I did." Shijef shook his massive head. "Not again. My master I will survive."

  I said nothing because I knew he was correct. At best I had another decade or two in my life. I could already begin to feel myself slowing down. I went to sleep with one series of aches and woke up with another. When Aarundel and I had begun to run together, we were both long, lean, and strong, and he had remained that way, but I had become scarred and old and slow. I was dying by degrees, and Aarundel had been too polite to call this fact to my attention.

  The Dreel felt under no obligation to spare me the truth, but I marveled at the fact that he did not exploit my weakness. He could have slain me at any time and run off, but he abided by his bargain. In fact, I found I had more confidence in his service to me than I did of the Reithrese's abiding by the deal made between Beltran and Sulane. I felt confident Shijef would stay with me until my death freed him, and the majority of my traveling companions felt that would come sooner rather than later.

  Larissa appeared not to share that opinion. She came to me in dreams that night, and we once again danced as we had at the wedding. Wearing the same riding clothes we had worn during the day, we spun and whirled and danced along the trail leading away from Jarudin. Despite the both of us wearing gloves, we never touched. We just moved about each other, slicing across each other's paths in an intricate weave of flirtation and teasing seduction in which I felt not slow nor old nor as if I were dying.

  In the morning she and I shared secret smiles and readied ourselves for the journey through the circus translatio. We said nothing to each other, but our chuckles appeared as irritating to the Lansorii as they were pleasurable to us.

  Our nonverbal communication continued, even on the ride from Ispar to the fringes of the Elven Holdings, and though not a word had passed between us, when we arrived at the grove on the far side of our ride, we led our horses away from it and on for a short distance before stopping.

  Exhausted, I dropped to my knees beside a small woodland stream and splashed cold water in my face. She knelt beside me and pulled her hair back with her left hand as she lowered her face to the water. Larissa drank deeply, then licked away the crystalline droplet hanging from the center of her lower lip.

  Sitting back, I watched her, then laughed. "Thank you."

  She wiped water from her chin with her right hand. "To what do I owe these thanks?"

  "For being you." I slowly levered myself to my feet, and my knees popped audibly. "Yesterday I heard my joints groan and snap and I felt old, but that was when I was apart from you. In your presence I am rejuvenated. I know it is only temporary, but it is enough for me."

  I snagged Blackstar's reins and patted the beast on the neck. "I think I will make camp up over there, in those rocks. It seems a likely place."

  "No, Neal, let us work our way down this brook. Where it curves around that hill there is a small pool and a clearing. There is grazing for the horses, and the copse beyond it will yield enough deadwood that you can kindle a small fire."

  I turned and looked at her, then on up to where the others made their camp in the grove. "I had hoped not to be so far removed from you."

  "The clearing is large enough for two." The dusk's growing shadows hooded her hazel eyes. "If you would permit me to join you."

  My heart began to beat faster as an icy viper coiled in my stomach. "But what would they think?"

  "They will think what we already know." She gathered up her horse's reins and started to lead the gelding down the path along the stream. "My brother trusts us both implicitly. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows that though we might wish it to be otherwise, we will not violate the laws that divide us."

  Aarundel's words to the Elven Council rose from my memory to stung me as I followed her. "Your brother told the council that I knew my place and that I would never dream of dragging a sylvanesti down to my level by visiting abominations upon her. He said I knew I was not worthy of you." As I repeated his words, I felt the hurt they caused me throbbing anew. I tried to keep the pain out of my voice, but I knew I had not succeeded when I saw it reflected in her face as she turned back to look at me.

  "My brother regrets those words." She looked up at the sky through a hole in the forest canopy. "He has given them a great deal of thought, and he knows that what he said was wrong. He knows that on an intellectual level and believes it fervently. You know he would give his life for you."

  I nodded. "And nearly has on occasions too numerous to count." I sighed. "That is precisely why it is so difficult for me to reconcile his actions with his words."

  "Please understand that our family is noted and even reviled for my grandfather's belief in the equality of Humanity. He filled our father with his belief, which is why Aarundel was never recalled by my father and enjoined from continuing his adventures with you. My father is even more opposed to anti-Man prejudice than Lomthelgar, and he did his best to instill his beliefs in us, his children."

  I bent down and plucked a yellow daisy, then Larissa took it from my hand and tucked it behind her left ear before continuing. "What my father did not realize was that we had a whole culture that had retrenched itself behind anti-Man revetments. Before Lomthelgar, everyone had been anti-Man, so no laws to petrify that altitude were necessary. As Lomthelgar began to make Elves think about their prejudice, legislation slipped into place to prevent the denaturing of our Elven heritage. My father, in his early years, was considered all but heretical. As Aarundel and I grew up, we were merely seen as peculiar for our attitudes. The placement of laws meant we were not a threat; therefore, we were not pressed as hard to defend our beliefs as Hicalan had been, which means we did not consider them as deeply as he did."

  I began to understand where she was going with her explanation. "You're saying your brother accepted me as an equal without realizing exactly what that meant?"

  "Yes, my love. He never considered what it would mean if you were to fall in love with a sylvanesti. He might have risen to your defense, but your being in love with his sister came utterly unexpected to him."

  "Both because you are married and are his sister."

  "Yes. As his sister I am sexless, and in being married any sexual needs are assumed satisfied." She shrugged.

  "Everything struck too close to home for him, and he redacted without thinking along the lines our culture had defined for him."

  The stream curved around a hillock and widened into a placid pool. We led our horses across the stream itself and to a grassy plateau that, in the spring, would be flooded by the stream. The long grasses had gone to seed and rustled underfoot. A couple of logs had been deposited on the flat by previous floods and gave us a good start on a camp.

  I used grass by the handful to rub Blackstar down; then hobbled him where he could graze and drink as much as he wanted. Larissa did the same for her horse, Valiant, then helped me gather up stones for creating a firepit and the branches with which to fill it. As we worked, our conversation detoured from the serious course, but both of us knew he would return when we had no more tasks to deflect us from the thought it demanded.

  Shijer showed up just as I got the fire started. He casually tossed a dead quail at my feet, then slunk off into the [s^d^wing] shadows to gnaw at a second, larger bird. I checked the quail to make sure it was a fresh kill and not carrion, then dressed it out, plucked it, and arranged a spit from which I hung it to roast.

  Sitting there on a water-worn log, I looked from the fire at Larissa. "It
strikes me, Lady Larissa, that come spring there will be no sign we were ever here. One simple and the snows in the mountains will guarantee that easily, and all this will be swept away. Time will do that with me, as well."

  She smiled. "You will never be taken from my memory, Neal. I could not forget you, my vitamora, the warrior who refuses healing and does not acknowledge defeat." She laughed lightly. "You have not made yourself easy to forget among my people. The council was surprised when you gave the crown to Beltran. Many had predicted you would keep it yourself and be coming to Cygestolia to destroy us.

  I shook my head. "That was never a consideration."

  Her eyes flashed in the firelight as juices from the quail dripped down and sizzled on a stone. "Why did you refuse it? You are a leader of men and could have been emperor."

  "I may be a leader, but I am not an emperor." Even though I knew I would tell her anything and everything she asked, I hesitated for fear my admonition would make her think less of me. "In the Roclaws my brother, Jarlath, rules. He is two years my senior, yet only half my size physically. By the time I had seen my sixth summer, I towered over him and could best him in any sport and give him a good match in games of strategy and thought. By the time I was ten years old, I could defeat grown men in combat, and using a spear and Wasp here, I slew a snow-wolf that winter. As I grew older, there were many soothsayers who predicted I would become a great leader and hero."

  "And they were correct."

  I nodded. "That they were. Roclawzi nobles saw me as the leader who could rebuild the Roclawzi Empire your people destroyed in the Eldsaga. I was groomed for that task. I was raised to believe I was fated to do great things in the name of Humanity. I would be the instrument through which Men recaptured that which had been stolen from us. Of course, my brother remained an impediment to this plan, but I was young and did not realize it." I shook my head. "I wanted to believe all that was said of me, and I almost did. . . ."