“Wine, yes, good plan,” Arfael said.
“Good,” Toban said, “because I can’t reach it.”
CHAPTER 17
Ealian’s Plan
The evening fell over Illeas’den, and with it, a grey shroud of mist rolled over from the eastern ridge. The moon was not yet up, nor did the full veil of darkness lie across the land. It was the still time, the quiet time, when the creatures of the sun went home to roost and the creatures of the moon were not yet awake. Little sound, if any, disturbed the peace, and the mist kept rolling in like a silent avalanche.
Ealian was down by the lake. He said he was going for walk, wanted some time to himself. Standing by the grasping rocks that encircled the waters, he looked east towards the white ridge of the Am’ilean and beyond to the marshland at the horizon. The last flecks of dusky light clung to the tops of the darkened trees, but he could still see them, hiding. The mind he now shared with whatever was inside him knew they would be there, somewhere. All he need do was keep an eye out and be patient, and sure enough…
Stupid fools, he thought. Do they not know the wolves will find them if they stay there? He walked around the bottom of the lake and up through an edge of thicket towards their position. With just a small clearing between them, he looked, listened, and waited for events to play in his favour. A quarter hour passed; the group split. Half went north; the others stayed where they were. Ealian shuffled across the clearing, bent low with hands almost at the ground. He came up on their left flank. Carefully, he eased in under the branches behind where they lay, watching. He sat for a moment, looking down the small rise at where they crouched behind bushes and laid themselves in shadow. They must think themselves clever, getting this close. They truly were fools. “Thought you people were supposed to be hunters?” he said.
Startled, the Salrians turned around quickly. Clearly not knowing quite what to expect, Si’eth drew his sword and settled into a defensive stance. The four other Salrians tripped over their feet in a hurried attempt to gain position. The smile on Ealian’s face grew wider as he watched them fumble for their weapons.
* * *
Si’eth stared at the bow. Even in this light, he knew exactly who it was. “You! You’ve got some nerve sitting there like that.” He waved two of his men forward. The boy didn’t struggle when they grabbed him and pulled him forward. “Where is it?” Si’eth growled.
“Where is what?” the boy asked, picking at his fingernails, apparently oblivious to the two soldiers flanking him, pointing their swords at his throat.
“Are we going to play this game? One of you took the scroll. If you value your life, then I suggest you stop this childishness and start talking to me.” Si’eth brought his face up close to the boy, but he didn’t flinch. He looked calm, of all things.
“Talking. Yes. That is precisely what I had in mind, Salrian,” the boy said in a manner and confidence beyond his ken. “I know what you seek. I’m the one who took it, and only I know of it… for the moment. If you do what I say, I will return it to you, and only the word of a child will remain as proof it ever existed.”
“Did you open it?” Si’eth spat the words through gritted teeth. If he had opened it, he would have to die, boy or not.
“No. I have not had an opportunity. But judging by your willingness to risk your own necks to retrieve it, I’m guessing it is… important.”
“I know no more of its contents than you. It was trusted to me for delivery. That is all. I’m here following my orders, like any loyal Salrian would.”
“Do you not think you’re telling me a little too much? I do not care what you know. I only care that you want it back.”
Si’eth eyed Ealian up and down, curious as to what had gotten into this skinny child’s mind. Something behind his eyes spoke true, yet he couldn’t bring himself to accept the word of such an insignificant-looking Surabhan. “Find his tracks,” he said, pointing at Jern. “Trace them back and see if anybody is with him.”
“Sit him back down,” Si’eth said, waving the boy down. “We will just wait here a moment until my man gets back. I do not like this. I do not like surprises, and… you, I do not trust!” He poked a finger hard into Ealian’s forehead, pushing his head back. Again, the boy made no response. The skinny whelp looked cold, disinterested, as though nothing much mattered. He certainly wasn’t scared.
“Do as you will, Salrian. I’m not the one standing half a mile downwind of a village full of wolves.” The boy smiled as he spoke, nodding in the direction of the village.
“He has a point, Father.”
Bre’ach’s voice grated in Si’eth’s ear. Turning, he saw his son peering through the branches of a wild berry bush. He was pointing east, like some twelve-year-old who had found a boar trail. Gods, he was even smiling.
“We are very close!”
“As you say, Bre’ach. Bring him. We will move up over the brow to the trees west of those rocks we passed.” It seemed better to say his son was right than to admit his mistake to this Surabhan child.
The boy clapped his hands quietly. “If I’m delayed too long, they will get suspicious. And this plan will be over before it has had chance to begin.”
“Enough talk from you. Stay silent until I ask you a question.” Si’eth grabbed Ealian’s shoulder, spun him around, and pushed him back up the shallow slope. “If you’re worried about timing, then I suggest you hurry up that slope, boy,” he said, nodding at the two soldiers to stay with him.
The dark of night thickened around them as they walked—more like scurried—towards the trees that lay beyond the rim. Luckily, for Si’eth, the moon had not yet raised itself beyond the Illeas Ridge—it was four nights from full and probably bright enough to signal their location to the Rukin. How could I be so stupid? Si’eth thought. Damn this grassland. Give me mountains, any day. Moving to the edge of the clearing, all the time keeping the lower copse of trees between themselves and the village, Si’eth ordered them into single file. Quietly, they moved past the rocks and the low hedges, until they came to a hollow below a smaller clump of trees and bushes.
Si’eth gestured for all to sit once they were west of a rocky overhang, so as not to allow their scent to carry—at least that was the idea. Who knew how the winds moved in this place? This was a bad idea.
The boy sat in the middle. The rest gathered around in a circle. Si’eth counted them; there were sixteen or so, all sat with their heads bent low, apparently nervous. He knew two were scouting and another off checking the boy’s trail. “They better not give us up,” he whispered.
“Why did you bring so many?” asked Ealian. “You may as well have put up a sign.”
Gods, did he hear that? “Are you trying to anger me, boy?” Si’eth pulled back his hand and was just about to slap when he saw something in his eyes. A strange reflection, like a curtain of blackened silk rolled over the white. Si’eth found himself staring. He shuddered. “What is all this? You are not that boy I met last week! What is your business here?” Lowering his hand, he grabbed the hilt of his sword. Whatever that was in the boy’s eyes had changed his mind. He might have listened, but now he wondered exactly whom it was he was listening to.
“Put your sword away and stop acting the fool. I’m your only means to guarantee seeing your property again.” The boy rolled his eyes. “I can hardly believe you managed to rise to commander.”
“I’m a captain. There are no ships around here. And you are trying my patience. Speak of your plan quickly, before I act with my instinct.” He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t kill him anyway, but they had come this far; might as well listen.
“Three or four days from now, you are going to have an opportunity to attack, a perfect ambush. You do that successfully, and one other thing I ask, and the scroll is yours.”
Si’eth couldn’t help but raise a brow. This sounds interesting. “Go on… more detail, boy.”
“Our path lies along the river to the south. We approach it from the eastern side of the r
idge, then continue to follow the river east until reaching a gully that runs north alongside a waterfall. The gully has steep sides. If you leave tonight, you can be half a day clear of us and be waiting when we arrive.”
“And what of this other… errand you would have us do?”
“The old man and his friend, the big man… You know of whom I speak?”
“Yes, I have seen them, the old wizard and the strange giant.”
“That is them. Yes. I want them dead. Simple as that, but spare the rest. I will need them to get where I’m going.”
Si’eth raised both brows at that, and he didn’t care if the boy noticed. “Well, you are full of surprises, boy—two men dead and a plan for the others. Where would a child like you be going that you need their help and the blood of dead men on your hands?”
“Other than this matter, my business is my own. Do we have a deal?”
Si’eth pondered on it for a long time, pawing over the boy’s plan. The few ideas he had might win him back his scroll, but none seemed as likely to succeed as this. It was just the boy; he didn’t like him much and trusted him less. He wouldn’t like to have to kill the boy, after all. He was just a boy, strange eyes or not, but he was too deeply involved now; he couldn’t just let him go.
Jern returned and told him that the boy was alone. Sighing, Si’eth turned to the scrawny Surabhan. “If the scroll isn’t delivered, you will be dead next to them. Now, is that clear, boy?”
“Very well. Remember, the old one and the ‘strange giant,’ as you call him, no one else!” The boy glanced sideways at the two guarding him. “You had better let me go before I’m too long missed.”
Si’eth chewed his lip for a while and then nodded to the two Salrians. “Boy,” he said.
“What?” Ealian asked.
“They are not stupid. If they check the gully, make sure you’re the one who does it. Understood?”
“Of course.”
“What is your name, boy?” Si’eth asked as the Surabhan began to walk back towards the village.
He stood a moment. “I don’t remember. Does it matter?”
Si’eth shook his head and then watched him disappear over the rock overhang.
Bre’ach came and sat beside him.
“Has he gone?” Si’eth asked.
“Yes, Father. Strange child. You know we must kill them all!”
“Maybe,” Si’eth said. “The only one we need alive is the giant. I do not know why, but we have standing orders to capture any Kel’mai. And no rock on the head this time. I want him pinned and tied and taken away, regardless!” Si’eth dry-washed his face. Sighing, he nodded towards the men sat on the far side of the overhang. “I want those new men across the river by dawn. Tell them to flank the Surabhan from the south. I do not think that boy was lying, but I don’t trust him. I can’t trust him. Send Jern to lead them. Tell him to take Uld’eth.” Si’eth rubbed his chin. “Oh, and bring me another bottle.”
Si’eth sat gazing around at the hedges and fields below the rocky overhang. A movement in the shadows caught his attention, down in between the thicket lining the western fields. He craned his neck, squinted his eyes. For a long moment, he held his gaze, but nothing. Shaking his head, he laughed quietly to himself. “Must be an owl,” he muttered. “I’ve got to get out of here soon. I’m seeing wolves everywhere.”
* * *
Down in the thicket, Aleban crept slowly along the bottom of the hedge, cursing himself for almost being caught. The moon was out and getting higher. He had to get around the orchard before they decided to stir. Half a dozen of the Salrians were already moving south. He risked a run across open ground and pulled up short of the trees near to the edge of the lake. He couldn’t move too fast for risk of running into Ealian. Burying himself under a bush with a good view of the path, he waited until the boy passed before moving on. He wasn’t there long.
* * *
It was near suppertime back at the village. Elspeth was out looking for Ealian. The mist had passed and a light fresh breeze came from the eastern field, bringing with it a faint smell of blossom. Elspeth walked slowly around the village green, smiling graciously at those who bid her good evening, which meant smiling to every man, woman, and wolf she passed—and more than a few children. She had talked to some of the residents, who all wanted to know the same things. Indeed, so common were certain questions that she thought of writing the answers on parchment and passing them out. The same three questions, repeatedly: “Is that Arlyn?” followed by, “Where have you come from?” or more commonly, “Where are you travelling to?” Elspeth remained uncharacteristically sociable, always responding to their remarks, though she became weary of some, as it was obvious that a few wolves regarded the travellers’ presence with suspicion.
A near-full moon had risen over the eastern ridge when she saw Ealian walking in through the village gate. “Where have you been?” she asked, folding her arms and tapping her foot. And then she wondered why she did it; she rolled her eyes at her mother for doing the same thing.
Ealian looked up towards her. “Really, sister, your concern for me is heart-warming, but can I not take a simple walk without question?” Ealian walked at a slow pace with his hands clasped behind him, looking around nonchalantly at the scenery, as though he were pleased with himself.
His voice was wrong, too. Heart-warming. Without question. Where did that come from? “What’s wrong with you, Ealian?” Elspeth kept pace with him, stumbling sideways, trying to catch his gaze. “You have been acting very strangely.”
“Nothing, nothing, I’m just enjoying the view. Do you not like it here? It is so peaceful and organized, wolves and men living together in harmony. Who would have thought such a thing? In all my travels, never have I seen such a symbiotic union of species.”
“What?” Elspeth stopped trying to keep up. Standing still now, she watched as this… person walked away from her. “You are starting to bother me, Ealian Tanner.” Still, he carried on walking. “Don’t think the others haven’t noticed, too!”
Ealian stopped, turned, and was now but inches from Elspeth, his face in hers. “What do you mean ‘noticed?’ Why are they concerning themselves with my business?”
“Back off!” Elspeth pushed him away and began to walk back to the hall. “You need to get control of yourself, Ealian. I will not take much more of this peculiar behaviour before I call for a doctor. You are not yourself. That illness has left you… strange.”
“What illness?” It was Ealian’s turn to play the sideways walking game. “What are you talking about?”
“In the forest, four nights back, tell me you remember that, or my suspicion of your ill health will be all but confirmed.” Elspeth stopped and looked squarely at him.
Ealian turned away and gazed at the floor. “Oh, that. That was not an illness, no more than a cold really—nerves, perhaps. Do not worry yourself about it. I’m sorry, sister. It has been a strange few days. I do not know fully if I have taken it all in. First the kidnap, then the marsh incident, now talking wolves!” He laughed awkwardly. “You understand, don’t you? I’m sorry.” He cupped his hands in front of him and with doting eyes, he pleaded.
Elspeth slowly shook her head. He was right, she supposed. “Come on. And enough with these riddles and capers. As you say, these are strange days. You can’t go wandering off and expect not to be questioned.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Elspeth turned back towards the great hall and began walking. “It’s supper. Let’s go in before it has all gone.”
* * *
Elspeth blinked under the bright lamplight, as Ealian and she entered the hall. The room was almost full with folk, wolves for the most part, though there were a few men and women, too. And, of course, the rest of the travellers, Daric and the others sat at the table in the same places as earlier. Toban sat alone at the head of the table, five other wolves were on Daric’s side, and six more were sat opposite. The two
caretakers, those Olam had mentioned meeting earlier, were also there and sat either side, nearest the door. Another man, a tall, old man, sat between the wolves and Grady.
The old man spoke to Grady as Elspeth walked past. He told him he used to be an adventurer, too, until he took an arrow in the knee.
“Ouch! That must have hurt!” Grady told him.
“Indeed it did!” the old man answered.
Elspeth laughed.
Daric saw her and waved them over. “Come on, you two, we’ve been waiting.” He spoke loudly and in a jovial manner, as if a little too much wine had passed his lips, or he was just overcome with the occasion. Either way, it reminded her of her father on feast day.
Elspeth and Ealian took the same seats as before. Man and wolf alike bowed at her as she seated herself. She wished they hadn’t; it was embarrassing enough just walking around in the ridiculous robe. The cleaner must have left her things until last. Everyone else was in their own clothes.
Sarai was the only other woman sat on her side of the table. She was next to Elspeth. “You found him, then?” she said.
“Yes, Sarai, he was wandering down by the lake.” Elspeth picked up some fruit from a bowl in the centre and a half roll of bread.
“Em… down by the lake?” Sarai asked, in the manner of questioning.
“Yes. He was just walking.” Elspeth paused midway to picking up another apple. What does she mean by that?
Sarai simply nodded and took a drink.
Daric raised his goblet. “What do you think of all this, then, Elspeth? A feast in our honour, certainly never expected this when I woke this morning.” He tipped his goblet in salute to Toban, who bowed back. Yes, he has definitely had too much.
“It is our pleasure, Daric. We cannot welcome you properly without a feast.”
“Much more of this and I won’t want to leave.” Daric laughed and raised his glass again.
A young wolf approached Toban and whispered in his ear. Toban nodded at the messenger as though he were expecting the message. “You’ll have to excuse me, Daric, everybody. I’ve been called away. Please continue.” Toban stood, bowed, and made his exit through the archway at the back of the room.
The Call of the Crown (Book 1) Page 22
