Winter's Sword

by Alexandra Little

  I was pregnant.

  I should not have been surprised. Dalandaras and I had not been cautious. Perhaps elves had a way of preventing pregnancy, some magic, and had not thought of my being human. And I had not spared a thought to the medicines and remedies I could have taken.

  I was pregnant.

  I was glad I had been given a the pillow was there, for I gave up trying to sit up and fell back against it.

  How on earth would I tell Father?

  Ehledrath gripped my hand. “Lorandal thought it might be best if a woman broke the news to you…if you had any questions.”

  I had questions, but they were none that they could answer. Those would be questions I had to save for Adhanel. “You must not share this,” I told Ehledrath and Lorandal.

  Both looked surprised. “But Dalandaras should know,” Lorandal protested.

  “As should your father,” Ehledrath replied.

  I shook my head and buried my fingers in Annel’s fur. “They cannot know. Not yet. There is too much to do.”

  Ehledrath touched her arm. “I was a soldier through both my pregnancies,” she said. “Until I grew too big to move quickly and efficiently. I don’t doubt your strength, but it will be difficult. Your body changes; your energy will change.”

  I would deal with that as I came to it. “Did the poison hurt the child?” I asked.

  Ehledrath looked to the elf. Lorandal said: “I do not know. The Lady fought the poison well.”

  I would have to be satisfied with that answer. There was nothing to do about it now. I nodded. “Then swear you will not tell. I will tell Father and Dalandaras in time, but for now I need them focused on the task at hand.”

  They may not have agreed with me, but they nodded all the same.

  “How long until I can leave my little room?” I asked lightly.

  “Tomorrow, I think,” Lorandal said. “Sleep now.”

  I let myself drift as they left, reveling in the dance of the shadows on the wall as the wind blew the door hanging back and forth.

  “Oh pet,” my mother murmured, her ghost fading but her voice still drifting. “What a muddle it all is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I murmured, and slept again.

  When I awoke, I knew it was afternoon, the sun as high overhead as it would ever be in winter. Someone had patched my clothes and boots and left them folded on the floor. I sat up gingerly and dressed myself, wrapping Dalandaras’ cloak around me. I could have taken mine, but I wanted to smell his sage scent.

  And then he was there in the doorway, casting aside the leather and embracing me. He whispered sweet nothings in elvish in my ear, kissing my forehead and my lips and my cheeks until I didn’t have the strength to kiss him back.

  “Ellsmid caught me unawares,” I said, holding him close. Could he feel the child within me? Would he know, and simply not mention it until I did? Would he be able to know my thoughts even if I did not direct them at him? I focused on other things instead, surveying over his shoulder the gathering of humans. Most had taken residence in the ruins, shoveling out snow and covering with leather any holes in the stone roofs. Some had moved farther, to the caves that had been carved into the steep mountainsides. I saw no one near the entrance to Adhanel’s tomb, though. I was glad. I did not want her skeleton disturbed.

  “Do not ever do that again,” he murmured.

  “Do which thing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice careless.

  “Walk into death,” he replied. “Did you think she would not be prepared for you?”

  “Neither of us was prepared for each other, I think,” I said, feeling Zarah’s soul heavy on my breast. “Did we lose anyone?”

  “Several,” Dalandaras said. “But two hundred twenty humans have joined us.”

  “Now I must convince them to stay,” I said, pulling away from him at last.

  “How can they not?”

  That made me smile. “Even elves do not think in such black and white terms, Dalandaras.”

  “The threat is obvious.”

  “Even the threat from your own Queen?” I asked.

  He stayed silent.

  I pulled away reluctantly. “Take me to my father,” I said. “Take me into the people; I must speak with them.”

  “We are safe for now,” Dalandaras explained as he led me from my room against the mountains down the slope to the ruined village. The humans watched as we walked by. There were many types among them—soldiers, merchants, miners. I had thought of the soldiers that would be loyal to my father; it had extended much farther out, into the civilians of Winter’s Crown.

  But I needed fighters.

  There were numerous fires lining the beach, set in pits dug into the snow and through the frozen tundra into fresh ground. People were cooking—rabbits, fish, deer. Skins were being stripped and stretched to dry.

  Father sat near one of the fires, drinking from a bowl and listening to Bardol and several others recount their tales. I watched him talk, worried for the thinness I saw even through his borrowed coat and gloves. There was some warmth at Tal Anor—it was certainly warmer than any place outside the circle of mountains, aided by the old magic and my desire for this place to be a fortress of its own, a gateway to halt a challenge to Tal Aesiri.

  Tiri came up beside me, breaking the unsaid code that none approached me. “We were wondering if you would live, my lady,” she said.

  Father spotted me but answered a question posed by one of the men about how best to keep dry in this place.

  “I am harder to kill than I look,” I replied to Tiri, trying for some of the ease of conversation that my father had.

  Father stood, gesturing to me. The group surrounding him halted their conversation. Dalandaras stepped back, Tiri following. I felt I was on a stage.

  Father stepped forward, Bardol following. Ehledrath was there as well. There seemed to be an order to who stood where, even if it was unspoken. The men and women followed my father even then, even with his body nearly broken and all symbols of nobility stripped from him.

  “Lady,” he murmured with a bow. He was ceding power to me.

  It was one thing for Lord Baradan’s men to follow Lord Baradan. It was another for them to follow his daughter.

  Humans slowly descended from the ruins towards me. With my back to the frozen lake I was aware how much on a stage I was. It was one thing to go after Adhannor with only a few at my back.

  “I know you have questions,” I said. That was a bad start, but I resisted wincing. There was no going back now, no starting over. “I hope I can give you answers.”

  “Ellsmid said you were different now,” Tiri said. “Said you were like the ghost Adhannor, who had sent a snow creature to attack Winter’s Crown. She said you murdered Sir Aros.”

  I shook my head. “Zarah murdered her own father, not I.”

  Murmurs started in the crowd. They didn’t believe me.

  “Zarah was caught by the evil magic of Adhannor long before I came to Winter’s Crown,” I said. “And I will show you now.”

  I called Zarah forth, and she came, appearing before me out of thin air. I felt the humans recoil, pulling away from the monstrosity without taking a step back.

  “Another audience?” Zarah asked. “You’ve gained in popularity, I see.”

  Not quite. “Tell them,” I said loudly, the will of the Lady deepening my words until I could feel them echo in both my bones and hers. “Tell them what you did to your father.”

  Zarah turned, and faced the crowd of humans. “I stabbed him in the back.”

  “You murdered your own father?” Tiri asked.

  Zarah sneered. “Did you think I liked him? Like Eva here, I despised him for dragging me to this frozen hell.”

  “Despise is a strong word,” I said, though a year ago it would have been rather close to being true. “Nor did I commit patricide.”

  Zarah snorted, which came out like a howl of wind through her decaying body.

  “Tell them about Crownd
an, about Inheritors.”

  Zarah did, reciting the words mechanically, obeying my orders only through the old magic, and not through any act of love or loyalties as the foulings obeyed me. She told them about how Crowndan had been drawn to the ruins where Adhannor had been imprisoned due to a fluke in his bloodline. Zarah told them how Crowndan had been descended from one of the original experimentors who had mixed old magic and blood magic. Zarah told them about how Crowndan had lusted after me from the first, and how he had realized that I was another Inheritor like himself. Zarah had stuck close to me in supposed friendship, but she had planned to use me to gain access to the old magic, using what she had learned about blood magic from Crowndan. She told them how she had tried to kill me, only for Adhannor to reject her and turn her into this…thing. Then she told them that I had defeated Adhannor, and was now the Lady of Tal Aesiri and all the undead and monstrous creatures of the north lands.

  The two hundred-odd pairs of eyes settled on me after that announcement.

  “And now she controls me,” Zarah concluded. “And an army like me. She is Adhannor now.”

  There was a murmur towards the back of the crowd, which caused the horses’ ears to perk and for them to shift in their makeshift barns. It was only a raising of my father’s hand that settled the crowd to silence again.

  “You may think,” he said loudly, his voice carrying and echoing against the mountains. “That I follow Eva because she is my daughter. The truth is, I did at first. But not now. I follow her because she is the only thing standing between grasping powers and a powerful weapon. Listen to her before you make any judgments.”

  That was my signal. Zarah stood down from the stone, and I climbed up on to it.

  I had never had to win loyalty. Not really. None of my mother’s fleet would have followed me had I not been a good sailor, but they had also trusted my mother’s judgment when she had let me captain so young. The elves—Firien and his men and women—had been handed to me. Dalandaras had followed me out of curiosity and then love, and Eliawen and Lorandal had followed him. Aerik and Father had followed out of love, too. But I was a stranger to these people.

  “I am a successor to Adhannor,” I said honestly. “But I am not him. I am not twisted by magic or a desire for power and control. I have no wish to rule over the old magic. I control Zarah now, I do not deny that charge. It is not wisdom to let traitors roam free. I have shown you what she is, and how she must obey my every word whatever her own will or desire. Now I will show you what else is mine to command.”

  And then I asked for all my creatures to come forward, if they wished it. And they came, the ground rumbling gently, the ice of the lake cracking. The mountains themselves seemed to groan distantly. And from their hiding places in the snow and amongst the trees and across the river came my foulings and dreadwolves, dozens of them and dozens more, from all around Tal Anor. And then came my colossi, drawing up from snow and stone and binding together with the power of the old magic. There were dozens of them too, and then came my ghosts and undead, called from Tal Aesiri at my request, spinning themselves into existence, their souls and flesh and bone forming from nothing. All my creatures circled the borders of the old ruins of Tal Anor, and the humans that were in it.

  The horses and brutehaulers shied, but my creatures remained calm. From the humans there was fear, and cursing, and even cries and gasps. But my father’s men and women were strong, and did not lash out or attack as lesser humans might have. They allowed themselves to be surrounded.

  “I asked them to come,” I said. “I asked that they show themselves to you. The person that controls Tal Aesiri and the old magic controls them. I have promised them that I will release them from their bondage, but I have not yet found a way.

  “Ellsmid knows about this power, thanks to Zarah Aros. The Dagnar Queen knows about this power. We cannot let them get it. These creatures are not immortal. I am not immortal. I could gain strength the way Adhannor and Crowndan and Zarah did, by killing life and taking blood. But I am not them. Because I am not them, I do not have the strength to maintain the solid forms of the creatures you see, or maintain the strength of the foulings and dreadwolves. Not if we’re attacked. Not forever. If Ellsmid brings an army to attack, or the Dagnar Queen brings her forces, it will end with one of them gaining a hold over all these creatures. And how strong they will be, because they will not hesitate to use blood magic to increase their strength.

  “It is much to ask,” I continued, as people’s gazes slowly turned back to me. “When you think this is not your fight. But once the Dagnar Queen has this army, Winter’s Crown will be merely an anthill beneath her boot. And Ellsmid? She has all those at Winter’s Crown to fuel her blood magic. The Empire will never be able to control her. By the time they realize what is happening, it will be too late.

  “Winter has bought us time—bought all of you time, time to think. I promise you one thing: there are other reinforcements coming.” I could only hope. “Ships from Port Darad. You will not be alone here for long. And if, at the end of winter, you decide that you cannot stay here, and that you do not feel you can return to Winter’s Crown, you will have safe passage on a ship to Port Darad, and free passage to take you onward from there. But I beg you to consider one thing: Everyone at Winter’s Crown will be doomed if we cannot secure Tal Aesiri. Help me, and you save your friends and family.”

  I waited. I would have trembled, but the speech took my strength to do even that.

  My father stepped forward, and lowered himself gingerly to one knee. “You know I am with you,” he said. “Lady.”

  I nodded. I had not expected anything less from him.

  Bardol stepped forward. “You convinced me even before now, my lady.”

  As he too, knelt, Tiri joined him, then the tavern mistress. “Lady,” they echoed.

  And then, slowly, they all did. Human, elf, ghost, undead, fouling and dreadwolf, colossi, and even Zarah.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, and felt my throat closing. “All of you,” I said again, loudly. “Rise. Please. We have much work to do. So let’s do it.”

  And then I felt the growl of my foulings, those still high in the mountains, watching the path we had come by. Others were coming.

  CHAPTER 11

  I cut through the crowd even before they had a chance to rise, Dalandaras following me. The foulings and dreadwolves that had shown themselves to the crowd felt the cries of their brethren and followed me as I followed the river out of Tal Anor. Tal Uil was this way; was it the elves? We weren’t prepared for this. I had only just gained the loyalty of the humans, and that did not say anything about those who would change their mind after the harsh winter and choose to leave. If Aerlad’s ships even came as I had hoped.

  My head was spinning with all of the possibilities of who could be coming. There were too many; I did not have all of the information I needed to make a decision for my people.

  But though my foulings and dreadwolves followed, they were not on alert. That was the only thing that gave me pause. If their brothers and sisters were not worried about who was coming, then I should not be either.

  I halted, when I came to the great arch that spanned the river. It was our boundary of Tal Anor. My lungs were burning. Had I run all this way? I had. And I wasn’t ready to, either. I fell next to the archway, kneeling in the snow, as my stomach protested and all the soup that had been forced into me came up again.

  Dalandaras’ footsteps were not far behind. Adhanel helped me to not reveal to him what I carried, because I would never accomplish my task if he knew. He would bundle me up and take me away, and Tal Aesiri would be lost to the Dagnar Queen or Ellsmid.

  “You’re still ill,” he said as he knelt next to me, his arms circling my shoulders. “You cannot go on like this.”

  “I have to,” I replied, wiping my mouth when the sickness had passed. Even as I said that, the world spun around me.

  “Find out who’s coming,” he said.

 
Annel and Dhreo loped passed me, disappearing into the gathering mist. Sunset was upon us. Was time passing so quickly?

  I clung to Dalandaras’ shoulder, burying my face into the fur collar of his cloak. “How do I do this,” I murmured.

  “Slower than you are going at now,” Dalandaras replied.

  “If only I could.”

  Annel’s excitement came through to me, fast and clear. She and Dhreo circled their quarry like pups, jumping and happy. It was Aerik and Firien.

  I clung harder to my lover. Firien had not been able to hold Aerik back for very long, it seemed. Or maybe he had.

  “How long has it been?” I murmured. We could not be too far into winter. It hadn’t stormed; there was no wind whipping the ice down. How long had it taken to get all of the humans from Winter’s Crown to Tal Anor.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Dalandaras replied.

  “I must,” I said. “You must keep me on task, Dalandaras.”

  “As best I can,” he replied. “But I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself.”

  It was going to come to that. I knew it. Why didn’t he? Perhaps my desire to block him from my mind, to hide the pregnancy, was working better than I had anticipated.

  The mist had grown thick and heavy when the foulings led the charge out of it, yipping and leaping like dogs. Behind them came Aerik and Firien, slowly but steadily emerging into the open air.

  Even with snow shoes, their progress was plodding.

  Aerik met my eyes, and I saw his belief that I had betrayed him clear in them. His beard was trimmed, but his hair had gotten longer. It was braided as Firien’s was and pulled back from his face. Another coat had been fastened for him, the leather and fur bulking him up until he had trouble moving his arms.

  I didn’t dare to move towards him, even as Dhreo nudged me with his snout. I didn’t dare, when it was so clear that Aerik had much to say to me, and none of it good.

  Whatever words he did have, he didn’t say. He only glanced at Firien, his jaw tight.

  “Lady,” Firien said to me, his face expressionless.

  I nodded. He and Aerik weren’t touching. That was a bad sign.