by Barb Hendee
Magiere's mind went blank as the woman kicked Chap's head and the dog went down hard in the wet sod. Rage welled up inside Magiere.
Daylight burned in her widening sight. Her eyeteeth grew, her fingernails hardened, and then she saw Leesil charge the woman. The last of her wits turned her toward the male elf, hoping Leesil and Chap could deal with the woman.
The master anmaglahk was the worst threat before Magiere. When reason overrode rage, she went at him, but she caught one last glimpse of Leesil.
The elven woman whirled away from his blade's reach and slipped behind his first slash. The tip of her stiletto sliced down Leesil's cheek to the corner of his mouth.
"No!" Magiere tried to snarl, but the word slurred.
Blood spattered from Leesil's face as he twisted his head aside.
Magiere veered around Sgaile and the Greimasg'ah, charging at the elven woman. Chap struggled up as the female elf came about.
The woman faltered at the sight of Magiere and hissed something in Elvish.
Magiere ground her rear heel in the sod. Chap dodged out of the way as she brought the falchion down with both hands.
The woman vanished, and Magiere's falchion only split wet earth. Her knees buckled suddenly, and her feet ripped from under her.
Magiere slammed down on her back, driving a grunt between her teeth. She saw the female anmaglahk rise from a low spin, bow tossed aside, and a blade appeared in each hand. Magiere rolled away to one knee, whipping the falchion around to shield herself.
Leesil flashed into view as he leaped over Magiere's head and landed in front of the woman.
Blood trailed down the side of his face, spreading into his mouth. Magiere could see that he wasn't moving fast enough as the woman shifted for his flank.
Panic overran rage as Magiere pushed off to her feet.
Chap rounded Magiere's far side, trying to flank the female anmaglahk.
In the span of a few blinks, the woman had wounded Leesil and put Magiere down. Leesil faltered as blood ran into the corner of his right eye, and Magiere would not close in time.
Chap's head ached, but he charged low at the woman's legs rather than leap to take her down. She would either dodge or simply slash at him, but he had no other choice to keep her off his companions for a moment.
Leesil tried to strike, and the woman twisted away. He turned his head and seemed to lose sight of her with blood smeared in his eye. The woman wormed inside his guard, driving a stiletto up.
Chap slammed headfirst into her left leg.
Sgaile cleared his mind of all thoughts, even his oath of guardianship. He let silence fill him and clear away distraction.
Hkuan'duv lashed forward with his curved bone knife.
Sgaile spun low, sweeping with his leg, but Hkuan'duv hopped sidewise as Sgaile barely achieved his crouch. Before the Greimasg'ah's feet touched earth, Sgaile was up again, but he did not close on the master among his caste. He stood his ground, maintaining a defensive posture. He knew he could not win on pure skill against Hkuan'duv's experience and skills.
Hkuan'duv charged again, and his lunging foot slid forward along the ground.
Sgaile took a wide step left, folding his trailing leg, and kicked down at Hkuan'duv's face. The Greimasg'ah hit the ground in a straddle and slapped Sgaile's foot aside without pause. Sgaile swung that foot back, trying to pivot on the other one.
He twisted with both stilettos inward, shielding his abdomen. Hkuan'duv simply leaned out in his straddle and hooked Sgaile's grounded foot with his free hand.
Sgaile could not get his other foot down, and the Greimasg'ah's stab came an instant later than anticipated.
As Sgaile began to topple, a stiletto sank to the hilt in the side of his chest.
He choked, not out of pain or even fear of death, but from shame at failure in his oath.
He slashed out with his bone knife just before his back hit the earth. The impact drove the remaining breath from his lungs.
Sgaile felt blood choking him from within and could not breathe. All he could do was roll his head, searching for his opponent. Hkuan'duv had frozen, staring back in startled denial-and his free hand was clamped about his own throat.
Blood welled between his fingers.
Sgaile watched as if through someone else's eyes as Hkuan'duv fell over. The Greimasg'ah crumpled limp upon the wet sod.
Sgaile heard Osha's cry, and then blood welled in his throat, filling his mouth.
The world was already dark when Sgaile closed his eyes.
Wynn shuddered as Osha shouted, "Jeoin!"
The female elf froze and half-turned.
"Sgaile!" Leesil yelled.
Magiere charged the elven woman but never reached her target. Chap slammed into the woman's legs and both tumbled down the knoll. They hit the water and thrashed free of each other.
Wynn shoved Osha's arm aside, and ran out in the middle of them, screaming, "No more!"
The elven woman stood shin-deep in the murky water as she saw her fallen comrade. Osha reached Sgaile before Leesil and dropped to his knees beside his teacher. Magiere turned, ready to lunge downslope at the elven woman.
Wynn grabbed Magiere's sword arm with both hands, not knowing what else to do. Before she shouted another word, Osha's voice rose in Elvish.
"Is this the way of our caste?" he cried, pointing to the Greimasg'ah as he gripped Sgaile's still form. "Is this what Most Aged Father would want?"
The elven woman's blank gaze slipped from her fallen companion-but not to Osha. She glared at Wynn-and hatred overran her shock. She turned that hate on Magiere as she backed farther into the water.
"Kill her!" Magiere snapped. "Bring her down, Chap!"
Chap stalked after the woman, paws hammering through murky water.
"No!" Wynn shouted.
"Get off of me," Magiere snarled, and tried to shove Wynn away.
Wynn slipped her arms tightly around Magiere's waist and hung on with all her weight. "Chap, let her go!" she called.
She will tell her kind where we are! I will not allow this!
"They found us-they already know!" Wynn shouted back. "More killing will not change that!"
Chap slowed to a halt but did not turn. His whole body appeared to shake under his rumble.
Wynn saw horror spread over the elven woman's face.
The female anmaglahk shook her head once in denial or disbelief as she stared off toward the Greimasg'ah's limp form.
"Go!" Osha shouted, and his voice broke in pain. "Tell Father that the Greimasg'ah is dead… because he demanded Sgailsheilleache break his oath of guardianship… break with our people's own ways!"
Osha choked out these words as Magiere ceased struggling, and Wynn turned her head to look at the young elf.
Osha and Leesil knelt to either side of Sgaile. But as Leesil took Sgaile's face in his hands, Osha reeled, hanging his head over his teacher.
"Sgaile?" Leesil hissed. "Sgaile… look at me!"
Sgaile did not move, and Wynn stopped breathing.
"Tell Most Aged Father…," Osha went on with head bowed, his voice turning steady and low, "tell him how we spilled the blood of our own… and see what is left for us because of it!"
He swung his downcast head toward the elven woman but only raised his eyes to her. There was something on his face that Wynn had never seen there before.
Pure and naive, desperately longing to be Anmaglahk, Osha had never shown hate to anyone. But that was how he looked at the woman of his own caste and people.
"I will care for them both," he said to her. "Go, and wash your hands of our own blood… if you can!"
The woman turned and fled.
Chap made one lunge to follow but pursued no farther. Magiere lurched toward the knoll's shallow slope, dragging Wynn halfway before stopping.
"Let her go," Leesil said. "It's over."
Wynn let go of Magiere and ran to crouch beside Osha.
Sgaile's eyes were closed. Blood seeped from his
slack mouth over Leesil's hands. A stiletto was buried to its hilt in the side of Sgaile's chest. Wynn put her hand on him.
"Sgailsheilleache," she whispered.
Osha's arms wrapped around her, pulling her away. She felt his tight, rigid body against her back as she watched Sgaile's face for any flutter of eyelid.
Leesil jerked the stiletto out, casting it blindly into the marsh. The gash on his face dripped blood off his chin. Like red tears, they struck the dank ground and vanished.
Wynn wished Sgaile would berate her for foolishness-just once more.
Leesil sat numbly within the shack, ignoring Wynn dabbing the blood from his face.
Sgaile was gone. So superstitious and stubborn, with all his blind faith in spirits and codes and customs… he was worth so much more than his oath of guardianship.
Leesil's wound wasn't deep, but with nothing to fully close it, Wynn could only wrap his head in a bandage from another shredded shirt. The wound would leave a marked scar, but she said he would suffer no permanent damage.
At least not in flesh, and he cared little about scars.
One more meant nothing, though this one would be prominent compared to the faded marks that Ratboy's fingernails had left on his jaw. By the time Wynn finished, Leesil heard someone hacking at wood outside of the shack.
He pushed Wynn's hands away and stepped out beneath a clouded sky.
Chap sat out front, still watching where the elven woman had run off. The dog turned as Leesil emerged and headed silently toward the shack's rear. Leesil followed and found Magiere and Osha there.
They had slashed away at the underbrush until both were soaked to their elbows and knees from the wet vegetation. In the cleared space's center, near the old man's fresh grave, lay Sgaile's body and that of the other anmaglahk. The two rested upon a pallet of the firewood taken from behind the shack.
"You don't wish to bury them?" Leesil asked.
Magiere began covering the bodies with brush. Osha halted but didn't look at Leesil.
"We bring body home when can," he said in broken Belaskian. "If cannot, then ashes… and if not ashes, then leave behind in hiding. But not bury."
Osha had cleaned their weapons and set these aside. Magiere halted suddenly, looking about with weary eyes.
"Not enough wood," she sighed. "Even green wood might help once the blaze gets going."
She headed for the shack's far rear corner and the willow rising above the structure. Before she could take a swing with the falchion, Osha seized her raised arm.
"No," he whispered and looked into the tree's branches. "Find other… not this one."
Magiere nodded, though she frowned in puzzlement and glanced to Leesil.
He had no idea what had spurred Osha's strange request.
"I will find some lamp oil," Wynn said, startling Leesil.
He hadn't even heard her approach, and turned as she headed away around the shack. Leesil pulled one winged blade, trying to find the driest reeds and brush.
When they'd made the best pyre they could, Wynn returned and poured oil from an old jar. She held out a burning brand taken from the stone hearth.
Osha shook his head. "Not yet."
Without knowing what to do, Leesil just stood with Magiere and Wynn as Chap settled beside them. Osha closed his eyes, speaking softly in Elvish.
"Hkuan'duv gan'Trai'earnneach, Greimasg'ah, d'me ag aharean eolhasas'na…"
Wynn began whispering in translation.
"Blackened Sea of the Iron Shore clan, Shadow-Gripper, whose parents I do not know…"
"…ag'us Sgailsheilleache a Oshagairea gan'Coilehkrotall… "
"…and Willow's Shade born out of Sudden-Breeze's Laugh of the Lichen Woods clan…"
Leesil lifted his eyes and looked to the sagging willow tree as Wynn continued.
"Mothers and Fathers of our people, seek them, siblings of the Anmaglahk and protectors of your descendants, the an'Croan-Those of the Blood…"
Leesil's mind filled with memories as Wynn went on.
"…Find their spirits and honor them, as they have honored you in a life of a service."
It seemed so long ago. Leesil had stood with Sgaile in the dark woods as they headed for the burial ground of the ancestors. He'd asked about the strange an'Croan obsession with seeking a second name in that place. He was only passing time in their brief pause to eat. And when he'd questioned Sgaile, concerning his name supposedly given by these ghosts, Sgaile had never answered completely. But the conversation now stuck in Leesil's mind.
"So you had some other name before Sgaile?" Leesil had asked.
"Sgailsheilleache," he'd corrected. "It means 'In Willow Shade or Shadow."
When Leesil had pressed for more information concerning Sgaile's vision before his ancestors, all the man had said was…
"Something far off, far from this land… in the shade of a willow."
At the crackle of fire, Leesil lowered his eyes from the willow tree.
Smoke billowed as oil-sparked flames fought to catch on wet wood. Osha tossed the brand he'd used to light them atop the pyre and continued whispering the same words over and over.
"I call, my voice for theirs," Wynn softly translated. "Ancestors… take them home."
Leesil tried not to think of…
Sgaile's own name-taking vision, hinting of when and where he would die…
Or a ghostly image of some other Leesil, standing in the ancestors' clearing, cowled in the gray-green of the Anmaglahk.
Leesil… Leshil… whose taken name was Leshiarelaohk-Sorrow-Tear's Champion.
Visions were lies, nothing more. Not fate. Not ever.
Magiere watched the flames fighting to consume their fuel. They needed to move on, and soon. She didn't trust that the one fleeing anmaglahk would simply give up. As much as she hated to ask, she did.
"How long?"
Osha breathed deeply and exhaled with an effort. "Until ashes."
Magiere nodded and kept quiet. When Wynn looked at her sadly, she regretted saying anything at all.
Leesil gazed into the flames.
His brow wrinkled. His eyes narrowed and turned hard, like stones baked in the fire's heat. The muscles at the back of his jaw bulged, and she heard the creak of leather. His gloved hand closed in a tight fist and wouldn't release.
Magiere stepped behind him. She slipped her hands under his arms and around his chest, and rested her chin upon his shoulder.
"In Willow's Shade," Leesil murmured. "That's what Sgaile's name meant."
One of his hands closed down hard on Magiere's against his chest- until her fingers ached-but she didn't pull away.
"We won't forget him," she whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Days of rowing carried them north through the worst of the Everfen. Although Magiere wasn't sure, she believed they were inside Droevinka's southern edge. Chemestuk, her home village, was many leagues away. But for much of the trip, her thoughts drifted to Apudalsat as well.
Her mother's bones lay unattended in Ubad's cave near that abandoned village. Coming so close, and not returning to retrieve Magelia's remains, weighed on Magiere. Even more so when she looked at the two small jars Wynn had cleaned for Osha to bring home the ashes of Sgaile and the Greimasg'ah.
But Magiere kept all this to herself.
They couldn't linger in her homeland. Not when they carried the artifact from ancient times hidden away beneath canvas.
They spoke little along the way, especially Osha. His thoughts were on Sgaile, his lost teacher, or jeoin. Or was there more behind the new coldness in his eyes?
The marshes grew shallow and small islands denser, and it was time to travel on foot once more.
"Everyone keep your wits," Leesil cautioned, dragging the emptied boat up a bank. "We don't want to run into conscription squads, let alone a military detachment."
Osha looked warily about. "I know some… of political here."
Magiere glanced at him. His grammar h
adn't improved, but his vocabulary must have expanded, if he grasped the word "political." Living day in and day out among humans had rubbed off on him, that and Wynn's badgering that he keep practicing his Belaskian.
Osha turned to the sage. "Which house… is rule now?"
Over the past days, Wynn had interacted the most with Osha, and this began to concern Magiere.
"What?" Wynn said, rising from her own thoughts. "Umm… probably the antes, headed by Prince Rodek, but there is no telling who has power now-if anyone. News was scarce, and we have heard nothing since leaving Soladran to cross into the Elven Territories."
Magiere took the lead, watching all around as they moved on. If open fighting was still taking place, most would be farther north between Enemusk and Keonsk-the home of the antes house and the capital city.
Growing up as a peasant, she knew little of her homeland's history of internal struggles.
Divided among noble houses, each was headed by its own prince in a bloodline claimed to be noble. Most descended from peoples who'd migrated here or invaded this territory in the distant past. But all acknowledged the rule of the Grand Prince-or claimed to.
Every nine years the conclave of the noble houses chose a new leader. Seemingly more democratic than a monarchy, this practice had also led to civil war more than once. During Magiere's time in Venjetz, and then the elven forests, she'd learned how Most Aged Father had used the Anmaglahk to seed discord within human nations. Whether the Anmaglahk had had a hand in this recent war was beyond her guess. She wasn't even certain which houses were now vying for the throne.
"Keep your hood up," she told Osha.
He drew his brows together. His hood was up.
"Most people here have never seen an elf," Wynn explained.
Magiere still regretted letting that female anmaglahk run off. Osha had assured them that she would go directly to Most Aged Father over the failure of her "purpose." Magiere didn't understand what made him so certain. At this point, she had little choice but to hope he was right.
Dangling moss beards hung from the old trees thickening overhead, blotting out most of the sky. Even in spring, the air was chill and damp. Beneath the scents of wet loam and wild foliage lingered a thin odor of decay and rot. They traveled through this for most of the afternoon.
