by Barb Hendee
Leanalham stood behind him with confusion on her young face. She touched Gleann on the shoulder, whispering in his ear. He reached up and patted her hand with a satisfied smile but said nothing in return.
Whatever the name meant either it wasn't clear or the meaning had raised disturbing questions among the council. Or maybe it was that Leesil had acquired any name at all. Magiere looked to Wynn for help.
The little sage wrinkled her nose and then whispered, "Something about 'grief' and… maybe 'tear'? I cannot fully decipher. Its construction seems older than even the dialect spoken here."
Brot'an stood erect with the branch gripped at his side, ardent and determined pride in his eyes as he looked upon Leesil. Clearly he knew what the name meant and it pleased him. This worried Magiere most of all.
He raised the branch, turning before the crowd, until the gathering's noise settled enough for him to be heard.
"Tell us of what happened on hallowed ground," Brot'an said to Leesil.
Freth offered no further objection.
Leesil recounted briefly, and Brot'an translated for the gathering.
Not all of it made sense to Magiere. Leesil was reluctant and spoke simply, like the times she caught him in some foolishness and forced him to confess. By her guess, he wasn't telling everything. But he offered enough to bring all voices to full silence as the elders and others listened in rapt attention.
"And what is the use of your weapons?" Brot'an asked. "How does this use relate to the accused?"
Leesil spoke more forcefully this time, expanding upon Osha’s earlier answers. He even told of their first encounter with Sgaile in Bela, and of Chap's own part in their efforts to hunt undead. The crowd listened with interest.
"Now the people may question the truth of these words," Brot'an said. "Do the elders question the naming of…Leshiarelaohk?"
His gaze slipped to Freth and Most Aged Father. Neither said a word, though Freth seethed visibly in frustration.
"The ancestors granted Leshiarelaohk's request." Brot'an lifted the branch once more. "Magiere, come forward. You may bring your translator."
She tried not to hesitate as she stepped out, and Wynn came with her, a little more cautious.
"If the accused is truly undead," Brot'an called out, "no tricks or arcane practice will serve her. This branch, gifted by the ancestors from Roise Char-mune, is their bond to our land by which no enemy of the life here could walk our forest."
He held the branch out to Magiere.
She stood frozen. Inside, she trembled-not just from the affliction the forest had pressed upon her. What if the branch did something to mark her as an undead after all? Or worse, what if it drained of all remaining life at her touch?
Magiere couldn't breathe. She reached out and grasped the branch in her bare hand.
It felt smooth but not slick or wet, as it appeared to be. At first it was cool, even cold, then it warmed gently in her grip. It felt alive, and her panic sharpened.
For some reason, her eyes met and held Sgaile's. She waited for the wooden symbol to wither or to burn her… or something.
Nothing happened.
"If she were undead," Brot'an called out, "this could not happen. Not one sign of rejection. No strike against her flesh by the ancestors through the very emblem of our land and bloodline of old."
Magiere began to breathe again. Brot'an walked an arc around her and around the clearing as he spoke.
"She is unusual, yes, perhaps as suited to her calling. In battle, she appears fierce… even predatory, as some have said, and I have seen this myself more than once. But the ancestors have not marked her as a threat to us. Whatever issues some might take with her, the current claim is false."
Brot'an waved Magiere and Wynn back to the oak table.
"I rest for now," he said, "and yield to the address of the accuser's advocate."
Magiere approached the table, watching Leesil. He reached out and grasped her pale hand. She quickly dropped the branch on the table and turned to look across the field.
Freth remained by her table, locked in uncertainty, but Most Aged Father didn't look shaken a bit by Brot'an's presentation. Magiere quivered inside, wondering what the old man would try next.
Wynn leaned in close between Magiere and Leesil, translating quietly for them.
Freth strode to the clearing's center, wasting no time as she addressed the gathering in a clear, light voice.
"The accused's advocate has not addressed all possibilities. This human does not merely 'appear' fierce in battle. Her body takes on more literal attributes… by which she turned upon the living around her. We accept the testimonies presented so far without challenge, but even her companions do not fully understand her nature."
Wynn detected the slight falterings in Frethfare's voice.
Not uncertainty, but more like a speech too quickly memorized, repetitious and glib. Wynn studied Most Aged Father, wondering if Freth served as his advocate or just his mouthpiece.
Freth strode back to her table and flicked a summoning hand at the crowd behind her. En’nish pushed into view through a cluster of Anmaglahk and came downslope with something cupped in her hands. Freth took it and proceeded across the clearing. As she approached Brot'an's table, Wynn saw a sacred white flower in Freth's hand.The same as the one that Sgaile had warned her not to touch.
White velvet petals shaped like leaves gathered the sunlight that struck them and returned it in a soft glow. The base and stem of the flower were a dark green, close to black.
"We saw some of those on our way here," Leesil whispered.
Freth held it up for the clan elders to see.
"Anasgiah-the Life Shield. Prepared by a healer in tea or food, it sustains the dying, so they might yet be saved from death. It is vibrant with life itself, and feeds the life of those who need it most."
Anxiety grew in Wynn's stomach. By all she had heard, the ancestors were thought to weigh and render judgment according toan'Croan needs. This flower was an inert thing, void of such intelligent consideration-whatever its use might be in these proceedings.
"The accused will come out," Freth ordered.
Magiere approached in an echo of Freth's own self-confidence. Wynn trotted after, uncertain if protocol allowed it, but no one stopped her.
Without warning, Freth slapped the white petals across Magiere's face.
Wynn gasped as Leesil tried to rush out. Brot'an pulled him back and then walked up behind Magiere.
"What is the meaning of this?" Brot'an demanded, as Sgaile moved quickly to join them.
Wynn grabbed hold of Magiere's arm, fearful of what she might do in return.
Magiere barely flinched, but her dark eyes locked on Freth's amber ones. Then she began to shake uncontrollably. Freth watched her with a startled satisfaction.
Wynn wrapped her arm around Magiere's waist. Freth raised the flower for all to see.
The white petals darkened.First to dull yellow, and then ashen tan as they withered. The flower died in Freth's hand, and crumpled petals fell away to float to the ground.
Rumbling grew among the gathering. The shrill voices of the Aruin'nas shouted above all.
"Only an undead could cause this!" Freth cried. "Anasgiah's potency is such that an undead does not have to consume the petals to consume what it offers. For that is what an undead truly feeds upon-life!"
In horror, Wynn craned her head around up at Brot'an.
His face was tight and hard, but he was caught as unaware as anyone else by this trick Freth played. At the field's far end, Most Aged Father watched with ardent eyes, and the barest smile stretched his shriveled mouth.
Wynn tried to force calm as she held on to Magiere, but she found none. Freth could know little more of the undead than anyone present. She could not have known how the flower would react to Magiere. This was Most Aged Father's doing.
The old one's test challenged Brot'an's-perhaps even canceled it out.
Brot'an motioned Magiere
and Wynn to return to his table. Wynn walked Magiere back, steadying her until she grabbed the table's edge. Sgaile had to shout for silence again, but one of the Aruin'nas elders rose to his feet, screaming back at Sgaile in his strange tongue.
"Do not throw another demand upon these proceedings!" Sgaile replied. "No vote has been called. You will hold for deliberation."
The short old one spit one more vicious utterance. Sgaile did not answer, and stood waiting until the Aruin'nas elder settled cross-legged upon the depression's edge.
Freth stalked back to her table as the crowd's rumble settled. She removed three stilettos and a shining garrote wire from her sleeves and belt and dropped them all upon the table.
Most Aged Father did not look at her. His ardent satisfaction remained focused across the clearing upon Magiere.
"Brot'an'duive sought the ancestors' judgment," Freth cried out. "I do so as well. But words and tests will not settle this. I disarm and call for trial by combat. Let the ancestors guide my limbs in the old ways. Let them decide who speaks the truth."
The gathering's murmurs rose into a cacophony. Most Aged Father sat back in his chair, milky eyes glittering.
"Confer!" Brot'an shouted.
Sgaile nodded in discomfort and barely contained his distaste as he looked at Freth.
Brot'an turned to Magiere as Wynn hurried to catch up in translating. She faltered and staggered as Chap shoved in beside her.
"What's happening?" Leesil asked.
"Old ways," Brot'an sighed."All but forgotten. When a dispute cannot be settled through deliberation, trial by combat may be called, though it has never been sought in my lifetime. And it must be sanctioned by the elders. The victor must put the opponent down, or the opponent must verbally yield. It is believed that the ancestors support the victor's truth."
"That is not all she wants," Wynn said. "She goads Magiere into revealing her nature. Freth wants them all to see Magiere transform, and if she cannot defeat Freth without calling upon her inner nature…"
Either way, Magiere could lose, and she was still shaking.
Magiere's eyes shifted back and forth. "Imight… might control it long enough… still win…"
"No," Leesil snapped. "You're not going out there!"
Magiere was barely able to speak between shudders, and Wynn knew she could not hold her dhampir half inside if a fight ensued. In Nein'a's clearing, Magiere had lost herself in this same shaken state.
"Most Aged Father told Freth to do this," Wynn said. "She reported everything she saw in Nein'a's clearing, but only he would know how the flower would affect Magiere."
Brot'an turned hard eyes on Wynn, likely wondering how she knew this, but she gave him no chance to question her as she rushed on.
"He knows Magiere may not be able to hold back. The instant she succumbs, she will be finished. This has nothing to do with Freth putting the outcome in the hands of her ancestors."
Magiere leaned back, half-sitting on the table's edge, and closed her arms tightly about herself. All Leesil could do was stand before her, holding her steady by the shoulders.
"A vote must still be taken," Brot'an said.
He pushed off the table and headed toward Sgaile. Freth joined them. An unknown anmaglahk came out as well and handed Sgaile two small baskets.
"Let us hope the vote fails," Wynn whispered as Leesil turned to watch.
"A vote on challenge is called!" Sgaile shouted.
It started slowly at first. Wynn saw stones being tossed by the elders. Black or white, they tumbled downslope or arched directly to the clearings floor. Gleann's black one cleared the slope completely and thumped upon the turf. He gave her a smile, and Wynn understood.
Black to decline, and white in favor of combat.
Wynn did not need to look to know what color the Aruin'nas elder threw.
Brot'an and Freth followed as Sgaile gathered and separated the stones into the two baskets. They returned to the clearing's side, where he poured them into two piles. Both appeared equal. He began counting.
Before he shouted the results, Brot'an already headed back toward Wynn. Chap growled beside her.
"Trial by combat has been granted," Sgaile called.
Brot'an began pulling stilettos and blades from his wrist sheaths and boots, slapping them on the oak table.
"What are you doing?" Wynn asked.
He ignored her and turned to face the field. "I call the right of proxy, as the accused's advocate."
Halfway to her own table, Freth spun about. Even from the distance, Wynn saw her eyes widen.
"No!" Most Aged Father screeched. "That would prove nothing! The human is an abomination, and you would challenge your own caste for her sake?"
Wynn grew dizzy, trying to translate amid the noise rising from the onlookers and still follow all that was happening. Nausea surged in her stomach under Chap's leaf-wing voice.
Too quick a denial! He is eager for this.
She looked down to find Chap with ears flattened, glaring across the field at Most Aged Father.
For all the old elf's accusations, and his attempt to deny Brot'an, the An-maglahk patriarch appeared to quiver with anticipation. Chap spoke again in Wynn's head.
Brot'an's intercession fuels the old one. He sees opportunity… he wants Brot'an to fight.
Most Aged Father tried to stand and failed, slumping into his chair. He lifted his frail face to all those around the clearing.
"Do you see what this thing has wrought? She has poisoned us and driven our own people to violence against each other!"
Brot'an turned to Sgaile. "By law, this is my right."
Sgaile was slow to respond. He said something Wynn could not hear over the crowd. But his answer was clearly a confirmation to Brot'an, and he hung his head.
Wynn did not know Sgaile well, but she knew where his loyalties lay. The last thing he would want was for his own caste to turn upon itself.
This is no longer just about Magiere, Chap said.
Wynn saw Most Aged Father's shouted denial for what it was-a calculated misdirection. If Brot'an won, it would shake his own caste's faith in him and might even lead to claims that he sided with enemies of the people. If he lost, though that seemed so unlikely, all that remained was the council's final judgment for what to do with Magiere. Either way, Most Aged Father would have his way in some part.
Wynn could do nothing but wait and watch.
Brot'an stood relaxed but erect upon the clearing's turf as he looked to Freth.
"Whenever you are ready."
Chap knew Brot'an grasped for the only option he had left, but Most Aged Father spoke one truth. At any violence among the elves, Magiere would be seen as the cause. Even if found innocent in Brot'an's victory, it would only settle the immediate claim. In the end, it would weigh against all three of Chap's charges when it was time for the council to consider the human interlopers in their land.
He did not care what the Anmaglahk did to each other, but he would not allow Magiere to be used anymore.
Chap bolted across the clearing, not caring about any attention he called.
"What are you doing?" Wynn shouted after him.
There was no time for explanations. He raced for the clearing's far slope and lunged up the incline straight at Gleann and his clan.
The old healer's jaw dropped halfway open. Chap let out a snarl. It was the only way, the safest place, to break through. Only Leanalham stood transfixed with fright. Before Chap had to swerve to get around the girl, Gleann jerked her aside. The rest of his kinsman scrambled out of Chap's path.
He shot through to the open forest beyond.
Even his own presence as a majay-hi no longer counted for Magiere. He had felt the doubt and suspicion behind those who watched him from around the clearing. They saw a puzzle they could not unravel in a majay-hi who kept company with humans, and most believed that he was wrong-deviant and twisted by a life no majay-hi would choose.
They did not know how close to
the truth they were-for all the wrong reasons.
If the Anmaglahk and the elders wanted battle to find truth, he would give them one.
Chap cut through brush and trees, until he broke into a wide alley created by a deep brook. He leaped up a smooth boulder overhanging the rippling water. In the distance behind him, he heard the crowd in the clearing.
Their sounds drowned from Chap's ears as he ripped the forest's peace with a howl.
Sgaile felt as if his heart would rupture. He no longer knew what was right or wrong. He knew only the ways of his caste and of his people. He had followed both with such devotion and conscience. But since the humans' arrival, one had been continually pitted against the other.Now two of his own turned on each other over an outsider.
Brot'an'duive and Frethfare.Greimasg'ah and elder of caste against Most Aged Father's chosen Covarleasa. Two of the caste's most honored.
At its worst-if neither yielded-one would die.
Brot'an'duive had right of proxy for Magiere, and Sgaile could not help but agree with his decision. It was proper, for what he saw of the woman's sudden failing condition. He did not understand why the healing Anasgiah had done this to her, nor did he care for the manner in which it was done.
Frethfare's only goal appeared to be forcing Magiere to transform before the gathering. Perhaps they should see this. Perhaps Frethfare was not wrong either.
Sgaile's mind spun as Brot'an'duive stood waiting upon Frethfare's response.
And then Chap raced away across the clearing and through the crowd.
That instant of distraction left Sgaile up repared. Every muscle in his body clenched as Frethfare rushed at Brot'an'duive.
All Sgaile could do was wait for one to yield-or one to die.
Leesil stood speechless as Chap vanished through the crowd. Then Freth struck out at Brot'an.
Her palm strike never landed. Brot'an spun away low with a sweep of his leg. Freth hopped back into a crouch. Before her feet touched earth, Brot'an was already up.
Leesil only cared that Brot'an won. That hope didn't even grate upon him in this moment.
