Once A Hero

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Berengar looked strangely at her. "What happened in there?"

  "I'll tell you as we get our horses and get away from here. Maybe in the stable we can find you more than just breeches to wear."

  The count nodded, and they did find an old polish-stained shirt amid the tack in the stable. They pulled Spirit and Teague from the stable and got their packhorses out as well before the fire spilled over to engulf that structure, While they worked, Gena told Berengar of what she had seen in her room and shared with him the conclusions she had drawn from her experience.

  "If I had not chosen to load the flashdrakes and keep them with me because I felt frightened, I would be dead right now, because they knew how to neutralize my magick. I think the ferghun would have supplied them with that information—it is rumored that those demons know a great many things, including facts hidden in the past or lurking in the near future."

  Berengar shook his head slowly. "A ferghun? I cannot believe . . ."

  "Believe it, Berengar, I saw it. Its presence there with your uncle suggests he let his studies of folklore and legend carry him too far." Gena found her anger growing hotter than the fire consuming the castle. "It is known that some of the Haladina worship the Cold Goddess, but I had thought civilized Men would have found her a detestable mistress."

  "It was not his fault, Gena."

  "How can you say that? He would have murdered both of us."

  "He was a frightened old man, haunted by ghosts. It is not surprising that he sought assurances from the Goddess of Death concerning his fate and that of his sons."

  "The Cold Goddess is a curious mistress to court if you want sanctuary against death. She and her people are abominable!"

  "But you remember that, we do not." Berengar raked hair from his face. "Time wears away the cruel edges of history. Your grandfather fought against the Reithrese, so you have the tales directly from him. You know how horrible the Reithrese were. We do not. Men hear only the seductive tales of power that will make us the equal of the Elder races. For an old man, one who has seen his dreams of immortality evaporate, that is very seductive. I'm certain he felt he could master her."

  "Another myth disproved."

  "Yes, yes, you are right, Gena, but he was sick and not thinking correctly. Had he been the Atholwin I had known in my youth, he never would have dabbled in Reithrese magicks." Berengar shook his head as he led the horses through the gate and away from the burning castle. "It is odd, of course, that in his ravings he was correct; we did kill him."

  "But we did not go there to kill him." Leaving Spirit with Berengar, Gena slipped away behind a tree to change from her nightdress into traveling clothes. "We did not betray him, merely stopped him from murdering us, so accusing us of being betrayers was wrong."

  "Point well-taken." Berengar took a deep breath and seemed to slow down. "Please, forgive me, I am overwrought."

  Gena smiled at him as she returned from changing. "It was a difficult ordeal for us both."

  "Let us hope we face no more in the future." He swiped a hand over his face, then yawned. "Castle there, burning hot / roasting and toasting all the clothes I've got . . ."

  Gena laughed at his rhyme, and that brought a smile to the count's face. "So, Berengar, do we press on to Jarudin, or do we go back to Aurdon and resupply ourselves?"

  He frowned and thought for a moment, then nodded. "We go on, if that appeals to you. We are almost halfway to our goal, and a return to Aurdon might mean that my Elders change their minds about our mission. I would rather fail in Jarudin and return than fail here and return."

  "I understand. I have a little gold, and if we forage while on the road, I think we should be able to make it to Jarudin. If we need more, we will put you to work spinning rhymes in taverns for food and lodging."

  Berengar groaned and hauled himself into the saddle. "I would sooner flaunt the Emperor's justice as a highwayman than sing for my supper."

  Gena mounted Spirit and brought the horse alongside Berengar and his horse. "That may be well and true, but when we get to Jarudin, explaining away bad rhymes and worse songs might be easier than dodging reports of criminal activity, especially when it comes to getting us an audience with Hardelwick."

  "As always. Lady Genevera, your beauty is exceeded only by your wisdom." Berengar laughed lightly and gave his horse a touch of his heels. "Let's find a place where they will trade food for song and pray we get the better of the bargain."

  Chapter 22:

  The Fiery Effect Of Truth

  Autumn

  Reign of the Red Tiger Year 3

  Imperium Year 1

  Five Centuries Ago

  My Thirty-seventh Year

  ***

  THOUGH I HAD slept for nearly a day and a half since my arrival in Cygestolia, I felt very tired as I stood before the Elven Council. Every seat in the council amphitheatre itself was filled, and Elves of every description clung to the branches and boughs above and around it. The story of the massacre and our unescorted journey back to the Elven capital had spread firefast through the city, and everyone wanted to be present when the council summoned me.

  I suppose that it should not have surprised me that I had been brought to the council with a charge of misconduct against me or the death penalty hanging over me. I should have been used to it. In fact, as much as I abhorred politics, I had to admire the way the charge had been laid so there would be an excuse to destroy me if I proved to be as much a threat to Elvendom as some feared I was.

  I breathed in slowly, pleased with the calmness I felt dwelling inside me. "My answer to the charge that I engaged in physical contact with Lady Larissa is that the charge is false." I glanced to my right where she stood with Lomthelgar and Shijef. "I charged the Dreel with the duty of keeping her safe."

  I let an edge slip into my voice. "Even at the moment when she saw the slaughter, in a moment of horror when any two living creatures would search out a companion for comfort and reassurance in life, he kept us apart. We abided by your law even in a situation where that law stripped us of all that makes us living, breathing, feeling creatures. Your law robbed us of the most basic consideration and compassion. As [unjust] as the law was in that situation, we respected it. On this you have my word, as well as that of Lady Larissa and the Dreel."

  Most of the Consilliari met my defiance and anger with defiance of their own, but when Larissa nodded toward me and gave all of them a stern stare, some shrank back from it. Whispers from the gallery buzzed and hummed above me. Though the words escaped me, tones of shock and outrage did not. I could not tell if they were directed at the law or my audacity, but I took heart in my ability to provoke a reaction among a people who saw me as little more than an animal.

  Thralan stood at his place in the council. "Calarianne, so there is no stigma upon my daughter, I demand these charges be dismissed by acclamation." Lomthelgar capered forward. "Second!"

  The sylvanesti overseeing the proceeding nodded. "If there are no objections . . . seeing none, I have it that the charges are dismissed without opposition."

  She raised her staff to bring it down and adjourn the session, but I raised my hand. "Wait! I must speak to the council on another matter."

  Calarianne hesitated and another of the Consilliarii rose to move that I be allowed to speak. Thralan seconded the motion and it passed on a voice vote. "The council will listen to you, Neal Roclawzi."

  I bowed my head respectfully to her, then looked up the Elves facing me. "I understand that it is believed Haladin raiders slew the Lansorii and carried Aarundel and Marta away. I must inform you, lest the reputations and abilities of those Lansorii and my friend be slandered, that the Haladina did not kill them. The Reithrese did."

  "What proof have you of this?" A black-haired Elf stood in the front row. "By all accounts you arrived too late to see the raiders."

  "I've been thinking on the problem all the while we traveled here." I held my left hand up with the palm facing me and my fingers all splayed out. I cu
rled the smallest under saying, "First off, there were no Haladin bodies present, and there is no way at least one of them would not have died. And, without a doubt, the Haladina could have carried off their dead, but they're not much of a mind to do that when there is so much loot."

  The Elf nodded carefully. "But the bodies were not looted."

  My ring finger curled down. "Another atypical fact about the fight. I'm thinking I've never seen a battlefield where the Haladina didn't make off with as much in the way of booty as they could pile on their horses. Elven armor and arms were left behind, as well as the personal effects of the slain Lansorii. The Haladina would have treasured those things, for they would have been seen as powerful both among the Haladina and as symbols of their skills to their Reithrese masters."

  The Elf let a sly grin steal across his face. "Perhaps you scared them off, Neal Roclawzi."

  I shook my head and tucked my middle finger down. "Any Haladin raider who had just succeeded in slaughtering an Elven patrol wouldn't be frightened by a half-naked man with a sword. They had bows and could have feathered me while I stumbled about in the dark."

  My index finger came down. "This all contributes to why I know the Reithrese staged the raid. I heard nothing of the fight, which meant it was over before the Dreel awakened me. The Dreel remained unaware of the fight until all the killing had been done, which tells me that some powerful magicks had been worked to keep the attack quiet and secret. Those same magicks point out how your Lansorii could have been taken so quickly. Also I found evidence of a limited search of the area. That meant they were looking for Larissa and me. The attackers obviously knew who we were, and had they been willing to spend more time in your forests, I'd likely not be here."

  My thumb came in, leaving me a fist. "What happened that night is this: two dozen Reithrese warriors approached under cover of powerful magicks. Because they can see as well in the dark as you can, there was no need for torches, which meant there was one less clue as to their approach—and the Haladina would have had to come with enough torches to set the whole forest ablaze. They slew most of the Lansorii with arrows, then herded the rest together. When they determined I was not there and no one would tell them where I was, the Reithrese cut down all the survivors save Aarundel and Marta and carried them off."

  "Your arrogance knows no bounds, Neal, if you suppose the Reithrese hate you so much to slaughter Elves to get at you."

  "You're a fool if you think I believe it's me they want." My fist pounded down on Cleaveheart's hilt. "They want this sword because they think it can be used to restore Tashayul's empire. Had I been there, all of us would have died, you would have launched a new campaign to destroy the Haladina, and the Reithrese would have offered to help you destroy Mankind."

  Another of the Consilliarii stood. "Your tale is fanciful, Neal, but untrue. The Reithrese have already sent us a message of condolence for the deaths and have promised to turn over the Haladina who did this once they determine who they were. They are being most cooperative."

  "Of that I have not a doubt, Consilliari, because those leaders with whom you correspond likely do not know who did this. More correctly, they suspect but are without proof. Without proof, or without pressure from you, they will not act just on the off chance that the person who planned this deed succeeds in having me trade the sword for his two hostages."

  "Impossible! The Reithrese would never condone aggression against us."

  "Why not? What would stop them?" I folded my arms across my chest. "They play the long game, the same way you do. Five hundred years ago, at the time of the Eldsaga, Lomthelgar's ideas about Men were blasphemy, yet little by slowly, I'm thinking, enough Elves softened in their views that you enacted laws to codify and punish what would have been unthinkable before he began to share his insights. In the same way, the vast majority of Reithrese might shudder at the thought of conflict with the Sylvan Nation, but if this act of aggression is not punished, they will begin to assume they risk nothing attacking you. The barrier between you and their lust for power and greed will be worn down."

  "As you say, Neal, we play the long game. If your fantasy were true, we would have much time to deal with it."

  I thrust a finger at the speaker. "It is true you would have a long time to deal with it, but my friend and his wife would not. Every second they spend in Reithrese captivity is an eternity. That's the problem with you long-lived beings, and the advantage of being a mayfly. You have perspective, but I have urgency. I am impatient—I will not tolerate my friend, my brother, remaining in captivity for a moment more than I must. In fact, I ride tonight to free him."

  The Elf folded his arms across his chest and scoffed at me. "You speak as if you know where Aarundel is being held and the identity of his captor."

  "I do." I pointed off south by southwest. "Aarundel and Marta are being held in Jammaq. They are Takrakor's prisoners, and he wants this sword in exchange for their lives. That's why there have not been ransom demands from this mythical band of Haladina. Takrakor knows I know what he wants, and I'll see to it that he gets it, though not in the manner he expects."

  Lomthelgar cackled aloud. "Mark him, this is the Second Time—he speaks in his voice for himself!"

  The leader of the Consilliarii struck her staff to the wooden floor once, quieting the hubbub Lomthelgar's remark had provoked, "What you have said is disturbing, Neal Roclawzi, but you are mistaken if you believe we will give you permission to act against the Reithrese in this matter."

  "With all due and sincere respect, Calarianne Consilliari Primus, you are mistaken if you think I came here to ask permission. I'm telling you what I'm going to do because I'm going to use the circii translatio network to get me to Jammaq and back again. My explanation here is a courtesy, not a petition."

  "No one will teach you how to activate the magick."

  I shook my head. "I have already learned, from Lady Larissa, to facilitate our return here. She did not know I might have other uses for what she taught me."

  The first Consilliari to question me again rose to his feet. "We can stop you."

  "How? Execute me? On what charges?"

  He smiled. "I move we reconsider the misconduct charge against Neal Roclawzi."

  Thralan shot to his feet. "Impossible, it was dismissed by acclamation and cannot be brought up for reconsideration because of that fact."

  I smiled over at Lomthelgar, who had come up with that bit of strategy in our discussions earlier in the day. "You cannot stop me, which is good, because Takrakor is not known for his patience."

  The declaration sparked a heated debate and not a few shouts from the gallery. I watched it rage, but because I did not understand the words, I gained more from visual cues than I did from the angry voices. In the heart of the council older Elves exchanged grim glances. They looked at me, then quickly away, and finally one of them nodded solemnly.

  This older member of the Consilliarii stood. Though his white hair and slightly thick middle would have had me dismiss him as a threat in combat, he moved with the energy of a snake coiling. "I am Disantale, and I applaud your instruction in our laws, Neal. I applaud your respect for them. I value your bringing to our attention the need for urgency in action, as well as your taking us to task for the unjust nature of our laws concerning Men."

  As Disantale spoke, I felt a cold dread start to crystallize in my stomach. The council had grown quiet as he spoke, and apprehension seemed to condense in the air. I wanted to run because I knew, as much as he was praising so would he damn me, and I wanted nothing to do with a condemnation delivered so coolly as this.

  "Neal, your presence here has impressed me, as have my son's reports of your exploits. If you are exemplary of Men, perhaps we have misjudged them and you. I offer you a bargain in return for your cooperation in this matter."

  I felt pressure close on me tighter than Shijef's jaws. "I cannot be swayed from my course, Disantale Consilliari."

  "I am known for being persuasive. Hear me out." He
pointed down at a group of Elven soldiers, and I recognized Finndali among them. "If you abandon this quest, my son will divorce his wife and we will repeal the law that keeps you apart from Lady Larissa."

  His words hit me harder than any punch I had ever taken, and were far more effective in driving my breath from me. My stomach imploded and I felt my heart begin to ache. I began to fold up around my middle, and I did sink to one knee, but I used my left hand to stop myself from collapsing. Despair and joy warred in my brain as dreams came to life and sought to erase what I could remember of Aarundel.

  Finndali stepped forward stiffly. "I willingly pledge obedience to the decision of the Consilliarii in this matter."

  I hammered my fist into the floor. "You bastards. You sanctimonious, superior, scheming monsters." The emotional turmoil in my head and gut converted instantly into anger, and I let that anger fill the void in my body. "I already know you hold me in contempt, but to think me so simple and so easily manipulable . . . How could you? Is it arrogance or just cruelty that makes you think I would jump at this offer?"

  I rose from the floor slowly and straightened up to my full height. "I'm not a dog to be thrown a bone. You greatly dishonor Doma Larissa to cast her as that bone. I am well used to being an object of scorn to you, but to show her such disrespect is unworthy of even your kind. Had I not a pressing engagement, I'd use Cleaveheart here and now to slay the lot of you."

  I shook my head, still fighting to clear Disantale's words from my ears. "With one hand you offer to make me worthy of Lady Larissa under your law, but to receive that boon I must refuse to save her brother. Were I to agree, I would no longer be worthy of her. And you, those of you who think of Men as oxen with thumbs, you would be victorious. I would have shown that I was willing to trade friendship for the embrace of sylvanesti thighs. And you would have denied us the chance to have children, so this tasteless compact would have died when I did."

  I laughed and wiped away tears. "You know, if I accepted this bargain, I would be worthy of your revulsion. The thing of it is that none of you would hate me as much as I would hate myself.