"I want to see what else there is," Mike said. "And there's more to farming than just putting seeds in the ground. Knowing a little bit about coopering and carpentry and smithing will be useful."
"There's supposed to be a week or two of combat training, too," Courtney noted.
"Well, I guess I'll see about this apprenticeship program," Herzer said. The sun was setting in the west and he suddenly realized he was bone weary. "Where do people sleep?"
"There's separate bunkhouses for the men and women," Mike said. "I usually walk Courtney over to hers and then find a place to sleep."
"You can come with us if you want," Courtney said.
"Uhm." he looked at Mike who shrugged disinterest in whether he did or not and then nodded. "Okay, if you don't mind."
They walked through the crowds in the gathering darkness to one of the many log-frame huts. Up close they were much less sturdy than they appeared at a distance, and the walls were filled with cracks where the logs didn't meet. The roofs were made from wooden "shakes," slightly mounded pieces of wood about two decimeters long, a decimeter wide and a couple of centimeters thick. He suspected that they leaked like a sieve in the rain.
He waited as Courtney kissed Mike good night, on the cheek, then followed the young man across the encampment. Mike seemed to find his way in the dark remarkably well for having been there only a day.
"I think you see better at night than I do," Herzer said as he stumbled on one of the innumerable potholes. The area had been a forest up until a few days before and while the stumps had been rooted out and the holes filled, the rains had caused the soil within to slump.
"A couple of generations back on my mother's side is a cat Change," he said. "I do see well at night."
"Do you know why there are so few Changed here?" Herzer asked, the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind coming to the fore again.
"Not really, but Courtney and I were discussing it. She thinks it's a matter of adaptability. Most of the Changed take more energy, either food or externally derived, than unChanged humans. So, naturally, they were going to be at a disadvantage when the Fall came. Think about a werebear, for example. They need a lot of food, every day."
"Yeah."
"Or, think about a guy with wings. He's got wings, but he can only fly with external power. And the wings weigh thirty, forty kilos. Take away power, make him have to walk for days to get to shelter."
"Yeah."
"Makes me glad I never Changed. You ever think of Changing?" The question was hard edged, almost accusatory but, again, Herzer put it down to personality.
"Not really," Herzer answered honestly. "A little bigger, a little beefier." He flashed back to the scene at the bridge. Bigger wouldn't have helped unless he was the size of a giant.
"You're pretty big already," Mike said with a questioning tone.
"That's mostly natural genetics," Herzer replied. "I. the muscle is sculpted but I worked for it. I was sick most of my life and I couldn't bulk up no matter how hard I tried. So when I got fixed."
"Yeah, whatever," Mike said. "Here we are."
Mike pushed open the flap-which appeared to be made of rough-cured deerskin-and led the way into the interior. Already the room was filled with the sound of snores.
"There's a spot over here," he said, pointing down the middle of the room.
To Herzer the interior was as black as pitch and quite cold. "Are there any blankets?"
"Not unless you brought one, but it warms up after a while," Mike replied. He led the way down the center aisle to a spot between two of the sleeping bodies.
"Keep your boots on and double knot the laces," his guide said. "I had somebody try to steal mine the first night."
"Okay," Herzer said, sitting on the floor. It was dirt and both moist and cool, and the air in the room was damp and filled with odors. He was suddenly glad that the problem of human body odor had been solved generations before, otherwise the room would have been truly foul.
He fell asleep on that happy note.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rachel woke up with a face peering at her upside down.
"Who is this sleeping in my bed?" the girl asked. Her voice was low and sibilant with odd under and overtones, as if she was speaking through the opening in a cello.
Rachel sat up, pulling the bedclothes to her and spun around so that she could see who she was addressing.
The girl standing arms akimbo by the bed was short, no more than a meter and a quarter, and very oddly dressed. She had a sharply pointed face and long, black hair that dropped in curly waves down her back. She was wearing what could only be described as a green leather bikini made of some soft, washed leather. Leaves were entwined in her hair. On her left shoulder she had a pauldron while the other was bare. On her right calf she had a metal greave while her left calf was covered in a fur leg warmer. She was wearing sandals with a very slight heel and on her left forearm was an archer's brace. That appeared to be the only bit of her ensemble that wasn't for show since it was heavily scarred on the inside.
Her ears were pointed and her eyebrows curved upwards sharply.
"Are you an elf?" Rachel exclaimed. She had met a few. They were all tall, slender, and wore refined delicate clothing. the exact opposite in many ways of the caricature before her.
"Hai," the elf exclaimed, sticking out a hand. That was another oddity; most elves avoided personal contact. "Bast the Wood Elf. Pleased ta meetcha. And who might you be?"
"I'm Rachel, Rachel Ghorbani. Edmund is."
"Oh, aye! I know you! Haven't seen you since you were a wee brat, though. No wonder you're fillin' up my bed. I nearly snuggled in with Edmund but he seemed as if he needed the sleep."
"O-kay," Rachel said. "Snuggled in. ?"
"Oh, aye," the elf replied. "Yer father an I go way back," she added with a wink. "Before your mother, actually. And after a bit. Not during, though. I think Edmund had been hit on the head one too many times those days to toss me out of his bed for that wee slip of a lass. And you do be favoring her. You're not going to go doing the same, are you?"
"With my father?"
"Ack, guess not. Good. We'll be friends then." Bast grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her out of the bed, still clutching at the covers. For all her diminutive size the elf was enormously strong. "Come on, gal! Day's a wastin'! Time to be up and about! Time for singin' and dancin'. Wine, men and song!"
"Oh, Good God," Edmund said from the open doorway. "I wondered what that racket was."
"Mundi!" Bast yelled and ran across the room to swarm up the smith. She wrapped both legs around his waist and planted a kiss on him that would have scorched most men to the floor.
"Father! I'm not clothed!" Rachel snapped.
"I've seen it. Hell, I cleaned it as a baby," Edmund answered in a muffled tone. "Bast," he added, unwrapping the elf from his body and lowering her to the floor, "where in the hell did you come from? I thought you were in Elfheim."
"And on that we need to be talking, Edmund Talbot," Bast said with a tone of sadness. "We've much talking to do. But as I was tellin' yer daughter, when I got in last night she was in one bed, Daneh, as I now take it, was in another and you looked all done in. Badly in need of a bit of snugglin', but all done in. So I slept in the forge."
"You didn't have to do that," Edmund said.
"Eh, Carb's good company," the elf said with an eloquent shrug of her shoulders. "He knows some right good dirty jokes."
"Yes, he does," Edmund said, shaking his head. "And you're too old for them. Rachel, for God's sake, get some clothes on and then join us in the kitchen."
"I will if you'll get out of my room!" Rachel snapped.
"Well, maybe later," Bast said, glancing at her again. "I've been known to care for the fairer sex as well." she added with a wink.
She left Rachel sputtering.
* * *
When Rachel entered the kitchen she was surprised to see both Bast and Edmund looking sad and so
mber. She'd gotten over her surprise at the awakening and was looking forward to talking to the wood elf who had been the first person since the Fall who seemed actively cheerful.
"What's wrong now?" she asked, scooping up a bowl of cornmeal mush, loading it with sorghum syrup and sitting down.
"Elfheim is closed," Edmund said, seriously. "Closed from both sides, apparently."
"The Lady does not want to be involved in your human war," Bast said with another elegant shrug. "So She has closed Elfheim. All of the openings are shut."
"But it's not just a 'human' war," Rachel said. "Paul is against all the Changed as well!"
She looked at Edmund's wince and Bast's amused expression and shook her head. "What did I say?"
"Elves are not Changed," Bast said. "We were before Change. We are ourselves. Not human, not half-human. Humanlike, but not human. We are Elves."
"Paul won't care," Rachel pointed out.
"Ah, agreed," Bast said. "But the Lady makes the decisions for Elfheim and all the Race. And Her decision is to sit this one out as we sat out the AI wars and the Final War. In all of those, individual elves chose sides. It was from the group that fought in the AI wars, on both sides, that the wood elves arose. But the Lady stays neutral."
"Not if Paul wins," Rachel said. "If he wins he'll destroy the elves."
"Maybe," Edmund said. "And then again, maybe not. The Lady has power in her own right. A lot of power. I wouldn't want to go up against her. Is it just you on the outside?"
"No, Gothoriel and others are in exile. I don't know where Gothoriel is now, but he said that he would come here anon."
"And you?"
"I think for a while I will guest with you humans," Bast said with a smile. "The woods are lovely in spring, but after a while hunting for the pot day in and day out begins to pall."
"It's not all beer and skittles here, Bast," Edmund warned. "We're all working as hard as we can."
"Oh, I'm sure I'll find a place to fill some need," the elf said. "There are so many opportunities!" she added with a wink and a wiggle that would have been banned in most ages.
"Minx," Edmund said, standing up. "I've got another meeting to attend in just a few minutes so I had better go get cleaned up. I guess you two can keep yourselves entertained for the day. God help me."
"Oh, I'm sure that Rachel won't let me get in much trouble," Bast said with a wink. "Go scrape a razor on your face, you look like a yeti."
"They're just legends," Rachel said.
"Tell that to the one I was married to for a while," Bast snorted.
"You were married to a yeti?" Rachel snorted. "Even if they were real, I mean why?"
"You ever seen their hands?" Bast said with a laugh. "Now think lower!"
"Argh, I stepped right into that."
"You know you like it," Bast chuckled.
"As the master said to his slave," Rachel retorted then slapped her hand over her mouth. "I can't believe I said that."
"Neither can I!" Bast said with a glower. "You beat me to it!"
"Bast, there's something important I have to tell you," Rachel said.
"It's okay, I don't really go both ways," Bast replied. "Often."
"No, not that," Rachel said exasperatedly. "I'm serious. On the way here my mother. we ran into some men."
Bast leaned forward and stared into Rachel's eyes. "She had a bad time with them?"
"Yes," Rachel replied, thankful that she didn't have to say the words.
"Where?" Bast asked.
"On a trail. South of the Via Appalia."
"Hai. Take me to the place. They will not make same mistake twice. I'll use hot irons, they'll even be able to walk after a few days. If they survive the shock."
"It's a long way from here." Rachel said.
"Not so far, I'd make it in one day," Bast replied.
"And they'd be gone from there."
"Am I not Bast? The greatest tracker in all of Norau, perhaps all of Elfdom?" Bast said.
"I don't know, are you?" Rachel replied with a slight chuckle. "Bast, the point is, we also know who they are. It was Dionys McCanoc and his merry men."
"Ach! That one! Him I'd kill just for the fun of it!"
"But the point is that going back to where it happened wouldn't help."
"No, you're right," Bast said, frowning. "He would not linger. So I must find him further afield."
"What? Why?" Rachel said.
"He hurt your mother," Bast said as if that settled it. "You are my friend. And he hurt the lover of my best human friend, Edmund Talbot. For that, I shall mount his balls on my trophy wall!" She paused and frowned. "If I can ever get back to my apartment in Elfheim."
"Apartment?"
"Close enough for human words," Bast said. "More of a closet, really, but with a very fine view of the next tree and if you lean way over," she added, suiting actions to words, "you can see a stream. A small one. More of a run-off creek, really. Intermittent anyway. Elfheim is. rather crowded. We're immortal. Even with not having babies very often, hardly at all, really, it's gotten. crowded."
"I'm surprised more of you don't live in the World," Rachel said, wide-eyed. Her image of the elves had never included them living shoulder to shoulder.
"Me too," Bast admitted. "But in Elfheim, most of them live in the Dream of the Woods, rather than in the real woods. In some ways, the Dream is better, more intense, than the reality. But I like to touch the woods, to see the trees grow, to watch the petal open in reality, even if it is less. beautiful than Dream."
"And so you're caught out here," Rachel said.
"Yes, severed from the Dream," Bast sighed. "Some day the Lady will relent and we exiles will return. Until the Dream palls upon me and I must walk the world of Men once more. To see the buds open in the sicamauga tree and to watch the trout leaping in the streams. To see each day anew, less perfect than Dream but oh so much more real."
"And as if the last few days haven't been really bad enough," Daneh said from the door to the kitchen. "Hello Bast."
"Daneh! My friend, how are you?" the elf asked.
"Better than I was," she replied. "Did I hear you two talking about Elfheim?"
"A bit, I like your daughter. She has grown much. You humans grow so quickly!"
"And die just as quickly," Daneh sighed, coming over to the table and sitting down. "How have you been?"
"I have been much," Bast said. "I have traveled much this time out. Always before I was in Norau, and eastern Norau at that. The woods are so lovely now, I have watched them grow and grow. But this time I took a trip to the jungles in the south. They are much more rich than the woods, especially the parts that missed the Great Killing, but. I missed my woods. And there were too many things in the south that made me itchy." She paused and looked past Daneh. "Daneh, stay still. You are being stalked."
"That's just Azure," Rachel said. She walked over and opened up the cold stove and took from it some more of the meat she had had the night before. "Here Azure."
The cat took it and sniffed at it then held it down with one paw to tear at the meat. He didn't seem particularly hungry, though, because after taking a bite or two he started to toss the piece around like a squeaky-toy.
"That is a white leopard if ever I saw one," Bast said warily. "They seem friendly, sure. But I had one leap on me in the mountains once. What a fight!"
"When was that?" Daneh asked, getting her own bowl of mush.
"When I lived with the yetis that this youngster says are a myth," Bast replied. "They lived in high mountains, far from here. I had heard of them and wanted to know the truth so I stayed with them and took a man among them. I bore his child and then when the child aged and the man was long dead I left, lest I see the child age and die as well." For just a moment she looked sad but then she brightened. "Hey, there are probably some long-lived yetis these days, ey?"
"You lived with." Daneh said. "You had. I don't believe it!"
"Tell me I lie," Bast said with a chuckle. "Go t
here and find out."
"How did you, I mean."
"Everyone's the same height lying down!" Bast said.
"Not something I want to think about right now," Daneh said.
"So I was told," Bast replied, looking sad again. "Are humans long lived enough to forget?"
"Forget, never," Daneh said. "Repair? Rebuild? I don't know. Ask me some other time."
"Nothing gets better if you pick at it," Bast said. "You are too good to be always in hurt. Someday, get back on the horse. Well, maybe not horse."
John Ringo - Council Wars 01 - There Will Be Dragons Page 23
