by Greg Curtis
“And you will in time. Now please dress. I have brought clothing for all of you. For your house guards and the servants as well. All must leave else you will not be taken to safety. Because anyone left behind would be thrown in that dark place as well and the Elder will not countenance that.” She dropped a large cloth bag on the floor just inside the doorstep, and despite it being foolish, Tenir looked inside.
Of course it was full of uniforms. Ranger uniforms. He should have expected it. The rangers were the one group that could wander freely through the city without the watchmen questioning them. And they could wander freely at night. Yet still it caught him by surprise.
“But -.”
“Dress. There is little time.”
He didn’t want to. The clothes were old and smelly, and in any case he did not wear leather armour. It just wasn’t right for someone of his station. But once more he was overruled in his own home by his wife, and she was right. There wasn’t any choice. So instead of complaining about it, he slowly dressed in the ill-fitting clothes and made the others do the same. His daughters, the maids, the house guards, all of them. The girl was right in that he realised. If they had fled and left the others behind, they would likely have been taken for questioning in that foul prison.
Soon they were dressed, and Tenir stood there facing the girl, holding a sword in his hand that he was sure should be worn in a scabbard somewhere around his waist, if only he could find a scabbard. But it was a small matter as he tucked it into his belt.
“Now what girl?”
“Now we leave. Blow out the lamps and follow me.” Tenir nodded to the others, the servants blew out the lamps, and then when the girl opened the front door, they all followed her out into the night.
Outside the moon was high and the air still quite warm after the hot sunny day that had been. It looked like a normal peaceful night in Leafshade. But it wasn’t. It had been a very long time since there had been a normal peaceful night in the city. Instead it was tense. It felt as though there were eyes behind every house, watching them, daggers in every bush, waiting to strike. For the first time in his life, Tenir felt unsafe in Leafshade. And the worst of it was that he was. They all were. If the girl was right then it wasn’t just him breaking Finell’s law by leaving the house. And maybe it wasn’t just their family either.
The city was mostly deserted as it should have been, most of the people having retired for the evening hours before, but still there should have been a few about. Instead he could only see watchmen walking the paths. Not the city watch in their grey uniforms; Royal Watchmen, in their pitch blackened chain. Elaris had just lost a major war, the armies had been decimated, and yet there were watchmen everywhere, patrolling the city as if the humans were there. There was something very wrong in that.
And of course there was something wrong with how many of them were guarding the prison not five hundred paces from them. Why did a prison need to be guarded? Who was going to attack it? And why did they have such a foul thing anyway?
“This way.” Nervously, they followed the girl out into the open and away from their home, down through the open grounds between the other large houses in the Willow Grass District and down towards the river. But most important Tenir guessed, was not the destination they were travelling towards, it was what they were walking away from. The centre of the commercial part of the city, where the shops and the traders were located, was also where most of the watchmen were located. Even when all the shops were closed. Perhaps they were worried that someone might be trading after hours, another of Finell’s strange new crimes.
Once they reached the river, they turned left to follow it as it flowed out of the city, and it was then that Tenir understood where she was taking them. Not to her chapter house as he’d expected, that was over on the other side of town. But rather to the Grove. The river flowed right through it. And of course Honeysuckle Grove was the one place that Finell would never dare send his watchmen. It was also where the elders could be found.
All the way there Tenir expected to see a watchman heading for them, approaching them with weapons drawn, intending to arrest them and stick them all in that foul prison. But for some reason the watchmen stayed away. A few glanced at them from the distance, but they seemed to ignore them. Maybe it was the uniform. Rangers could wander the city freely, and like the watchmen, they were armed. Maybe ten of them were considered too much of a fight, even though only one of them was actually ranger. Or maybe Finell didn’t want to go against the Grove.
They crossed the city in silence, all of them wanting to ask questions, none of them bold enough, and maybe twenty minutes later they had reached the forest, and the short riverside path that led through it to the Grove. It was then that Tenir knew a moment of relief. The city was behind them and so too were the watchmen. They surely weren’t safe, but they were in much less danger than before. The others knew the same and there were smiles of relief all round.
“Quickly, into the grove.” Dura hurried them along, and despite the fact that it was never her place to do so, Tenir and his family did as she told them. After all it was Honeysuckle Grove. There could surely be no harm for them there.
In the grove, after they had rounded the twists and turns of the hedgerows, they found a couple of priests and some more rangers waiting for them. An entire party of rangers, their horses already saddled. And some of those horses Tenir realised, were without riders. They were waiting for them.
Then an elder approached them and for a heartbeat or two Tenir thought he was seeing things. She wasn’t an elf. She wasn’t even close. In sooth she seemed mostly troll though her tusks were small. Yet she was an elder. He could feel the spirit of her connection to the Mother very strongly, even though it had been many years since he had studied the teachings.
“Who are you?” But even as Freylin asked Tenir realised the answer, and he named her.
“Trekor Aileth.” He bowed to her as was proper no matter her form. He should have known from the instant he’d set eyes upon her. So much trollish and human blood as well as elf and gnome. And she was with two crag cats, just as Herodan had said. Just as the tales of her said. Two huge cats, each of them easily capable of killing them all. The two house guards were looking nervously at them, gripping their weapons tightly, though they knew better than to draw them.
“Tenir of House Vora. I am glad you came.” She even managed a small bow, though why he wasn’t totally sure. Elders did not normally bow to elves, even of the great houses. But he didn’t feel that she was mocking him either. In any case it didn’t matter.
“You can do something for our son?” That in the end was the only thing that mattered.
“The elders are trying to do something for all the sons and daughters locked away in that foul dungeon. And yes, with your help I think we can. But it will come at a cost to you.”
“How much?”
“Not that sort of a cost.” She looked at him quizzically in the moonlight as if studying him. “Strange. So similar to young Iros in your thoughts.”
“Then what?”
“Everything. The time has come to unmask Y’aris for the dark servant he is, to take a stand, but we elders are divided upon it. Tonight is a half measure, a step further than we have yet gone, and yet a step still not far enough. Still, it will undermine Y’aris in his ambition, and perhaps force his hand. To flee or to attack, that is the question he will be forced to answer. But even for us to take this step you will need to give your everything. I am sorry that this must be so, but in the end it is a step towards Herodan’s freedom and the continuing lives of the rest of your kin. Any true family would gladly pay the price.”
“Everything?” The elder stepped forward and handed him a sheet of paper, a notice already printed and even by the moonlight he could see that it was only awaiting a signature. His signature. Desperate to learn what sort of notice could free their son he started reading nervously by the moonlight.
“Oh by the Mother!” Tenir almos
t fell down when he’d finally read the notice, finally understanding what the elder meant. She had not lied. It would cost them everything. Their home, their family name, their standing, and their wealth. All of House Vora. Every house, every family and home within House Vora, every enterprise that they had across the world, all would be gone. And it still wasn’t a choice.
“We cannot remain in Leafshade if we sign this.” They probably couldn’t even remain in Elaris. The paper was as near as could be to a declaration of war with Finell. House Vora against the Throne. And yet the elder was right, it was the one thing that would completely undermine Finell. The one thing he couldn’t fight.
“Husband?” Freylin was not going to like it he realised. But she would understand. Their daughters would not. The rest of the house would not.
“It is a declaration of secession. House Vora has removed itself from the rule of the high lord, choosing instead to take the calling of the Mother.” Freylin gasped and so did his daughters, shocked beyond measure. He hurried on before they could ask if he was crazed.
“It cites the rule of Finell as unjust and of undying shame to our House. It cites his black blooded advisor as a demon worshipper and states that he holds Finell’s thoughts as his own. And it demands that Finell stand trial for failing to uphold the sanctity of the Mother and consorting with demons.”
He turned to the elder. “A trial date has been set?”
“One week hence.” Of course it had been. That was the bargain that was being made. House Vora was ceding its name and all its assets to the Grove, and in return the Grove was being asked to stand in judgement on one of their own. If nothing else it would end Finell’s rule. Either because he would be tried and found guilty and then be immediately executed. No demon worshippers could be tolerated. Or if he was found innocent, because he would no longer be Finell of House Vora. There would be no House Vora. And a High Lord could not be without a house. Either way if he avoided all challenges, Finell had at best a week to rule from the moment Tenir signed the paper, and then the realm would be plunged into chaos. It would be a disaster for Elaris, but arguably Finell’s rule had been worse.
And it had one advantage over his only other choice, which was to unname Finell. If he did that Finell could linger on the Heartwood Throne for a little. He could protest his eviction, ask for a trial, and arrange a quick marriage to a daughter of one of the other houses while he did so. It did not even have to be a great house. All he needed was a name. And for all that time he could be harming their son and hunting them down with his armies. Tenir had no doubt that the two of them would do just that.
This though, this was different. For a start there was no possible defence. There could be no appeal. There was no house to try. And no one would dare take Finell into another house. Not when he was named as a consort of demons by his own First. Not when he too was without a house. This doomed Finell instantly, and it freed the prisoners. But it didn’t necessarily save Herodan.
Tenir slowly explained the consequences to his family, knowing that they had the right to know what he was signing. And that he would sign it. Because if it did nothing else, with Finell no longer High Lord, Y’aris would also be left without a role. The position of High Commander was an appointment of the high lord. No High Commander, no watchmen, and if there were no watchmen then there was no one to guard the prison. It was a clever solution to their problem. And it was also one that Finell could not have anticipated. He could never have imagined a House ceding its name, giving itself in its entirety to the Grove. As long as Finell couldn’t catch them before the trial and make him recant. That was the only danger. And there was a reason that the rangers were waiting for them. The instant he signed the paper they would be in the saddle.
But there was still one danger.
“This still doesn’t protect our son.”
“Nothing does.” She spoke directly, admitting the truth without a hint of deception. And she was right. As things stood he would remain in that prison until he died. And then Finell would simply grab another of his children and another. He would not stop. And disinheriting him practically guaranteed Herodan’s death.
“But this protects him. Because he can be used as a hostage against you it all but assures his survival until the trial. As long as you aren’t caught and made to swear this as a forgery. And we will act before the trial begins.”
It was wrong. It went against everything he stood for. Everything he held dear. It destroyed his house and his family. And yet Tenir knew that it was the only chance he had of saving his son and his family. Wordlessly he held out his hand for a quill, and when he held it in his fingers, went down on his hands and knees on the grass and signed the notice.
“I’m sorry.” He bowed to his family when he rose, and in his heart to all of House Vora. And he was sorry. That he’d signed the notice. Sorry that he’d allowed things to come to the point where he had to. There was so much he should have done differently, and more strongly opposing the ascension of his nephew to the throne was top of the list.
“Thank you.” The elder managed a sad smile as she accepted the signed notice. “I respect your courage Tenir, and you have my word that the Grove will work to protect the rest of your family and free your son.”
“But for now you have to ride. In the morning this will be posted and Y’aris will send all his men after you. You will need to be long gone before then. Captain Maydan and his riders are waiting to escort you to safety. She indicated the waiting riders and the man standing in front of them with his arms loosely crossed.
Wordlessly they walked the twenty or thirty paces over to him, every step feeling like that of a condemned man walking to his execution. At least it was for Tenir. He had no idea how the others felt. For the most part he suspected they were still in shock. Trying to understand what he had just done.
“Captain?”
“All of you can ride?” The captain seemed in no mood for pleasantries, but then neither was Tenir. He nodded, and one by one so did everyone else. It had been a long time in his case since he had ridden a horse, but he still remembered the basics.
“Good. Then we should leave.”
“Where are you taking us?” Freylin interrupted the captain before he could give the order to mount up, and he didn’t seem too pleased by it. “To Chria in Whitefern?”
“No place would be safe for you within Elaris.” The captain sounded somewhat more than gruff. He sounded like a man at war answering stupid questions from raw recruits that he had no time for. And the scars on his face look gave him an aspect of threat. Not a man to be crossed.
“All of the homes of House Vora will this night be taken into their local grove. By morning every house in Elaris will be empty. There will be none able to take you in.”
“Then where are you taking us?”
“Greenlands of course. The one place where you will be permanently beyond the reach of Finell and Y’aris.” Tenir groaned a little at the name, but immediately knew the captain was right. It was their best chance of safety. And at least they would get to see their daughter again. And her husband if he still lived. If the witch had been able to save him as she said. And then they would have to beg him to take them in.
To beg! The very thought was a torture. House Vora never begged. They never asked for anything. It was a point of honour for them that they purchased everything they needed. That they had houses that could take them in wherever they went. Tenir wasn’t even sure that when the time came and he had to bend a knee to Iros, that he even could. And yet he would have to.
“Now mount up. We have a long way to ride before the sun rises.”
They did as they were told, since it didn’t seem as if they had any choice in the matter, and Tenir swiftly discovered that it had been a long time since he had been in the saddle. Longer than he remembered. But a hand reached out and steadied him before he could find the ground.
“Thank you boy.” The boy might be human, there were some among the range
rs, but he still intended to be polite. It was a matter of honour as much as anything else. And he had little honour left.
“You’re welcome sir.” The boy smiled briefly at him, and there was something in him that stirred up his memories. Tenir knew the boy, but he couldn’t think where.
“Do I know you boy?” And as far as he could be sure he didn’t know a lot of rangers. They were mostly drawn from the low born, those of mixed blood, and those without prospects. He didn’t know many of those people.
“Maybe sir. I am Pita. I was assistant to Lord Iros of Drake before the trouble.”
Trouble? That was a kind word for what had happened. A far too kind word in Tenir’s view. It had been madness and evil, but none had spoken against it. None had spoken against the high lord when they should have, and in that maybe they could truly be said to be the casters of their own misfortune. But at least it seemed that some had survived that terrible night.
“I am glad to see that at least one other from the mission lives.”
“Two sir. Mya, our cook escaped the flames as well though she does not walk too well yet. And Saris too. She took an arrow but the wound has healed up nicely while we have been hiding here in the Grove.” Tenir suddenly recognised the jackal hound lurking around the horses. She was the only one in the entire city. The only one he’d ever heard of kept as a pet. And he knew his son in law would welcome her return. More than welcome it. There was a strange bond between the two from what little he had seen of them. Almost the same bond that connected the rangers and their wolves. And he was a man without a family.
