"Looks like you'll be cleaning my armor for a week, giant," Selas said. We followed his pointing hand. Wyntan was trailing the priestess off towards the woods.
"Well, I hope he finds some happiness with her," I said. "He's been a bit morose lately, and that's unlike him."
"I don't think happiness is what he's looking for today," Selas goaded. "Now get up and get back to work. You two, as well," he growled at Samar and Daltorn. "You have troops to work!"
I sighed, and as usual, obeyed.
Another week slipped by. I knew the time was coming, that within a month full Spring would awaken in the lands beyond the Wood. Spring would come, and Iceblade would move against the High King.
It was a day I didn't have to wear armor, so I sat in our tent alone, marshaling my thoughts and my Sight. Maps were spread across the tables, and I was using small colored pebbles as markers as I dowsed locations – how much of Dragon's Tooth had fallen, where were the major encampments of the crows army, and where were Tirk, Tirith, Edwald, Wandis, Vankyar and Spider. Later, when Selas was done on the training fields, I would go over the maps with him. This was purely the old man's idea, I believed he understood how much being constantly surrounded or even crowded was beginning to make me grind my teeth in my sleep. This way I would have time alone, the whole day if I needed it, and I would still be useful.
I Saw the man who had run from Wyclif's group on the last foray, Spider, Iceblade's close associate. He was my height, with curling, black-dyed hair that hung to his nape and an eye patch over one eye, definitely the same man I'd seen in my dream at the base of the mountain. Sighing, I realized that Iceblade had probably guessed or even knew for certain where we were now. In Spider's previous life, before he'd come into Iceblade's service, he too had been a thief, and it seemed possible that he could have thwarted even Wyclif's detection on their trek back to the Wood.
I knew Iceblade was camped at least four days to the west of Lalinth, the city and castle of the High King. His army was hidden well, by terrain and by magic, waiting for Spring, for the sign from the God that it was time to attack. By now it could be that King Guin knew that dark times had fallen upon his kingdom, but due to Edwald and Wandis, due to the interference of Dagar, he wouldn't know exactly what was happening. Perhaps he was aware only that he was no longer receiving any communication from the eastern low kingdoms, but even that was not necessarily a cause for concern. Few traveled in the winter, and it was likely that there would be little communication between any of the royal or noble houses until Spring.
I couldn't get any contact with the High King or his household. I would not be allowed to warn him.
I heard my guards step aside outside the curtained door, and Malina came in bearing a chalice of water.
"You've been in here a long time, Chosen," she said. "We can't have our Hope fainting from dehydration. It's fallen upon me to bring you a drink."
I glanced at her, my mind elsewhere. She didn't seem to resent the duty as much as I'd have expected.
"That's kind of you," I said absently. "I have this ale here." I gestured at the pitcher and tankard supplied by Wyclif.
"Ale will not restore you like freshly purified water," she said sharply. "Certainly not that ale."
I chuckled, letting my hand drift over the map, placing another pebble. "Don't let Wyclif hear you say that. But thank you, deeply." She nudged the chalice into my left hand as my right began drifting over the maps again. Preoccupied, I lifted the chalice to my lips and took a hefty swig.
I dropped the chalice, turning to her in shock, standing so suddenly my stool fell backwards. It was wrong. It wasn't water. A terrible nausea rose up in me; an awful, wrenching weakness. Pain began to spread outward from my belly.
"Why?" I managed, slipping to my knees, falling against the table and feeling the table lurch away from me. My sight faded. Into my darkness her voice came.
"You should never have been Chosen," she whispered hatefully, bending to sling her words like darts into my ear. "You base, lowborn, bastard child. Just for you, I've turned pure water into the most dire poison. I didn't know I could do it, but I did, and I see it is working. You will die, and another will be Chosen. Another more worthy."
"It will never be you," I mumbled, and knew nothing else.
In the darkness I heard sounds, tatters of words at first, then slowly recognizable voices. Weeping, or fury, or coercing. As time passed I began to understand the voices.
"She's still alive?"
"She's holding on with all her strength, but it's a battle for sure."
Nefen's voice. "I'm here. I'll stay. Stay with me. Stay with me."
Selas. Roaring. "Wake up, wake up! Don't you start disobeying now!" Grief?
I couldn't hang on to the voices, though I fought to. I twisted in pain, felt like I was being continually struck by lightning. Then singing would come, and something liquid in my mouth, and some small relief.
At last the pain stopped coming. The darkness receded. I opened my eyes.
I was in my room, in my bed, covered with far too many blankets and furs. The curtain separating my side from Selas' was gone, and a brazier with glowing coals had been set beneath the clever chimney in the back of the tent. My whole body was awash with sweat. Wyntan sat in a chair nearby, facing me, his head in his hands.
"My friend," I said, and it came out as a barely audible croak. His head snapped up, he flung himself forward, landing on his knees beside my bed. He cradled my hand against his face and kissed it.
"Ada," he said in anguish. "I bear the blame. I should have known. I should have seen. I lay with that viper who struck you."
"You bear no blame," I whispered. "Not even I could See it."
"I don't deserve your forgiveness-"
His pain grieved me. "You don't need to ask. If there is anything to forgive, it is forgiven. It wasn't your hand that poisoned me." I started coughing and he hurried to help me sit up.
"She's awake," he shouted out the door, and his call was echoed by others. I heard a great cheer rising from outside all around the tent. Fiona was the first to come in, then Selas pushed his way in. Behind them I could see Nefen, Samar, Daltorn, Declan, Renata and the others. Fiona turned to shoo them all away.
"Too many in here already," she said. "Get out!" Selas glared, refusing to budge, but the others obeyed. "You too, boy," she said to Wyntan. "Join the others." He kissed my hand again and did as he was bid. Selas came to take his place helping me stay semi-upright. I leaned heavily against him in his fatherly embrace.
Fiona sat on the side of my bed. She held a cup up to my lips and I drank. Whatever it was, it was foul, but I couldn't find the strength to push it away.
"That's it," she said. "Drink it up. It tastes bad but it will finish burning the poison out of you."
"Too hot," I said, knowing it was a whimper, hating the weepy sound of my voice.
"I know, love," she said. "But we're sweating it out of you too. You must stay covered."
"It's all right, my girl," Selas said, soothingly. "You rest and heal." He eased himself out from behind me, laying me gently back down. I couldn't keep my eyes open.
"Malina?" I whispered.
"We've dealt with her," Fiona said flatly. "As was our duty."
I slept.
It was dark when I woke again, stronger this time, and cooler. The coals were thankfully low, and a single blanket covered me. Gripping the bed frame, I pulled myself into a sitting position.
Nefen was with me. He had pushed the chair up against the bed, facing the head, and he took my arm to help steady me. Holding my arm, he propped pillows up behind me until I would be supported upright. I relaxed back against them gratefully. He stood, quickly fetching me some broth in a cup being kept warm by the brazier, then sat back down in the chair to help me hold it so I could drink. When I finished, he set the cup on the floor.
"There you are," he said. His face was gaunt with worry, his eyes sunken and the skin around them dark. He smi
led at me.
"You look awful," I said, drawing a laugh from him.
"You look gorgeous."
"Liar."
"I wouldn't, and you know it," he replied. He brushed my hair back off my face, and though his touch disturbed me, I was too tired even to flinch. He must have noticed my discomfort, because he let his hand drop away, and he leaned toward me with both his forearms on his knees instead.
"Am I stinking and sweaty again?" I asked.
"And awake, and alive," he said. "What else matters?"
"How long?"
He understood. "It's been a week. And about six hours since you woke last." I muttered a swear word learned from Wyntan under my breath. "We've all taken turns sitting with you, and the village has been holding a vigil outside, and all in and around the Great Hall. Now that you've woken, they've dispersed, gone to get rest."
"We need to be ready to move out in two weeks," I said. "And I've wasted a week sleeping."
"That wasn't sleep," he retorted. "I'm to get Fiona when you waken again, but if you don't mind, I'd like to just look at you, here, awake, for a moment."
"Look then," I groused. "But don't sniff." He laughed out loud.
The sound summoned Fiona, and she came in clucking her tongue. "I told you to get me when she woke. Now shoo. She'll be wanting a bath and such and she won't want you here for that." As Nefen left, Renata and two of her women came in.
"From now on," Renata said as she helped me into the chair so they could strip the long underwear off me. "From now on, you must not drink anything given to you by an evil hag. We can't bear another fright like this." I managed a worn chuckle.
I was helped onto a chamberpot and back into the chair for a sponge bath. The women worked quickly, frequently reaching out to squeeze my hands. With my meager, shaky strength I squeezed back to reassure them. Though I tried to assist them, I wasn't much help, I was too weak even to hold my arms above my head while they bathed and dried me.
Renata pulled a lightweight nightgown over my head while the women stripped the bed and changed the bedding. They helped me back into bed, now clean and sweet-smelling, and covered me up.
"One more dose of the nasty stuff," Fiona said, holding another cup to my lips. I choked it down. "Now," she said when I finished, "Do you feel like eating?"
"Not after that," I said, and she grinned.
"Then back to sleep for you, and we'll feed you when you wake up."
Selas told me about Malina.
"The guards heard you fall, heard you knock the table over," he said. "One of them held down Malina, who fought like a demon, while the other ran for help, screaming down across the field that you were down, that Malina had poisoned you. Roger, who held that rabid animal down, needed stitches after that. Wyntan hauled Malina out of the tent by her hair, tossed her to the mob waiting to grab her.
"We took you to your room, and Fiona and Ceilan fought the poison for your life. It took them hours and your heart stopped twice, but each time you started it up again. Once they got you stabilized and into that awful, feverish sleep, they went with the other priests to see to Malina.
"The priests took her to the temple and slew her there in front of the entire village. She wasn't aware of what was happening, she'd been beaten near to death by then. Old Gronwon cut her throat with that crescent shaped athame the priests all carry. Held her up by the hair until her blood stopped spilling, let it all fall onto the floor of the temple. And the temple soaked it all up."
I shuddered, picturing the flash of the athame, the ceremonial dagger, and the spurting blood.
"Gronwon said the Goddess demanded it, or Malina would have been killed by the crowd. After the temple soaked up all the blood, the antidote Fiona's been choking you with filled the chalice on the altar.
"When you fell, an icy wind blew through the village and snow fell. The weather went back and forth for days. We knew you'd come out of it toward the end though, when the winter left and the Spring returned."
"I'm sorry I put you all through this," I said.
"You better be," he said grouchily.
I smiled. "So, General Old Man, send in the women. I'm getting dressed and going down to the meeting hall. I want to have lunch with the village. I want them to see me alive."
He stood, pushing the chair back against the tent wall, and gave me a sardonic bow. "If you wish it, Lady." I threw a pillow at him.
It took more than an hour for Renata and her women to help me get ready. I was dressed in red, a simple, old style gown with a tied bodice, wide, high neckline, and long, draping sleeves. My hair was brushed within an inch of my life and pulled back tightly on the top of my head, braided in many small loops and adorned with jewels. Carnelian jewelry, a stone favored by the Goddess for its red hue, was placed around my neck and onto my fingers. Renata lightly brushed powdered rouge onto my face and chest in a vain attempt to make up for my unhealthy pallor, then washed it all off because she felt it made me look feverish. I was ready to face all those who had been so worried for their Chosen.
Selas supported me on one side and Declan on the other. My friends followed, and we all walked slowly and carefully down to the Great Hall. If I walked too fast, I would begin to tremble and would surely fall, and I wanted those waiting for me in the Great Hall to see me healing, strong, able to do what needed to be done.
It was packed. Many sat around the U shaped table, more stood behind them, and some sat inside the U itself, the children among them. I was helped into my seat, though we were careful to give the impression that the help was of a courteous nature only.
"Hello, everyone," I said in a loud, unshaken voice, beaming a smile across the room. I was greeted by cheers of relief.
"Hello, Lady Ada," said a small boy coming to stand in front of my spot at the table. "You're better now?"
"I am," I told him gently, reaching for and squeezing his hand. "I am very nearly well again." It wouldn't take much longer for that to be completely true.
Gronwon and Fiona led a prayer of thanks, and we ate.
The village settled down from their fear for me, for their Hope, but swung into bustling work, readying to move. Those who would not be joining us in the battle would remain behind in the village in the Wood, seeing to the children and the buildings, conducting daily life. Of more than six hundred, now that more refugees had shown up singly and in small groups; only about one hundred and fifty would remain behind. The Goddess would protect them, until the coming autumn, then the Wood would be returned to its rightful owners – the fey creatures, wisps, and capricious spirits who had reigned in Reckonwood for many millennia. I knew I would be welcome back beneath these limbs and leaves when I wished to come, as long as I lived; so I would see to the altar. I made plans to return here every spring, assuming, of course, that I survived the battles to come. Though I was the only hand that could slay Iceblade, I did not have a sense that the reverse was true, especially not after how nearly I'd succumbed to Malina's poison.
The ranks of the archers had swelled to sixty, and we had fifty wielding spear-headed pikes. The rest were foot soldiers, with axe and sword, club and mace. Wyntan, Daltorn, Samar, Nefen, and Declan all led companies of fifty. Felan and Hesta led the bowmen and women. Wyclif led a smaller group of twenty-eight, all with some former experience in his particular area of expertise. Twelve others, including Ethan, were assigned to me, to act as my permanent guard. Selas, ostensibly under my command but in reality, handling command for me, led my honor guard, his own group of fifty, and the pikes.
I had worried that Samar would not be able to communicate well with her soldiers, but Selas had solved that problem with little effort. Samar had trained with the same people all our time in the Wood so they would be well versed in her manner of giving orders and information, and she had been supplied with a small but piercing horn she used to signal her orders any time they weren't looking directly at her to see her signs.
Some thirty people, mostly women, had volunteered to w
ork with Fiona. The huge gold tent was packed into the donkey's new cart to serve as a field hospital, along with cots and any supplies Fiona felt she would need.
Selas sent Wyclif and his group out of the Wood one last time before we all left, to find horses or donkeys and more wagons. Wyclif said he knew just where to look. It took him a week, but he came back with six horses and two huge wagons. Two of the horses were big working horses, taller than a man at the shoulder with long fur covering their feet. The other four were regular horses such as I'd seen ridden all my life, though never I'd ridden any myself. In truth, I was somewhat afraid of the huge beasts with the sharp looking teeth and wicked hooves, and I was happy I would not be asked to ride one. It would take only the two working horses to pull the same size and weight of wagon pulled by the four smaller horses.
Selas gave a disgusted sigh. "Our supply train. Two wagons and a donkey cart." The two of us were watching as the wagons were loaded. Everyone would be expected to carry their own weapons and armor, as well as other personal supplies like their extra clothing and bedroll.
I raised my eyebrow, smirking at him. "The Goddess will supply us. Have some faith."
"I have faith. May be of a different sort than yours."
"After all you've seen?" I asked him. "You still have faith only in your steel and your skill?"
"And that of some around me," he retorted. "I've seen, and I know what we've been given, but I also know that in the end, it rests in our hands. And you know that, too."
I nodded. Queen Galiena had supplied us with wondrous tools, but whether or not those tools stopped Iceblade was up to us.
Iceblade Page 20
