Curse of the Akkeri
Page 6
Her father blinked at her, his eyes made large and bulbous by his thick spectacles. He turned to Elmerah. “Well then, I suppose you had good reason for wanting something a bit stronger than tea.”
Elmerah smirked. “I like you, Ivran. You understand me.”
“Saida,” Solana interrupted, “What is an Arthali witch doing in my bedroom?”
“Let’s find that drink you’re after,” Ivran said loudly, hurrying Elmerah out of the room before Solana could lose her composure.
Alluin looked to Saida and mouthed, Good luck, before following them out of the room.
Saida turned back to her mother. It was going to be a very long afternoon.
Alluin
Alluin, Elmerah, and Ivran retreated to the sitting room. Alluin was glad to have escaped Saida’s mother’s notice, at least for now. The situation was uncomfortable enough as it was, and Elmerah’s oddly pleasant attitude toward Ivran was not helping.
The witch draped herself across an overstuffed chair as Ivran poured burrberry brandy from a bottle he’d retrieved before Saida started yelling about the Nokken. The plate of cold steamed buns sat forlornly on the edge of the low table stationed between the chairs.
“They’ll be in there awhile,” Ivran explained, nodding toward the closed door. “Saida left us without a word, not even a note, so we’d no idea if she was even alive or dead.”
“She was kidnapped by pirates,” Elmerah explained. “That is how she and I met.”
Alluin watched her, surprised she didn’t reveal that Saida was only in a position to be kidnapped because she’d been running away.
Ivran handed her a delicate glass of the purple-hued brandy. “How dreadful. Where are these pirates now?”
Elmerah took the drink and downed it in a single swill, then extended the glass to Ivran. “Likely in the Galterra stocks, I’d wager. We left them for the militia to find.”
Ivran chuckled as he took her glass and refilled it. “That is good to hear.” He looked to Alluin as he handed Elmerah the refilled glass. “Please, sit. Do not worry, Solana is too weak to charge out and question you.”
Alluin managed a tired laugh, then slumped down into the nearest cushioned chair. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find in Faerune, but it was not someone like Ivran. He understood now where Saida found her kind nature.
Ivran sat on the arm of one of two remaining chairs. “Now please, tell me more of why you’re here.”
Alluin glanced at Elmerah, who shrugged, then downed her second glass of brandy. She set the empty glass on the table, then reached for the steamed buns.
It seemed he was on his own.
He turned back to Ivran. “Honestly, it is perhaps better for you to hear this from Saida. You may find what we have to say difficult to believe.”
Ivran removed his thick spectacles, then wiped them with his tunic. “If you would have asked me yesterday, I would have found it difficult to believe the two of you would be in my sitting room, yet here you are. Just because I may doubt you, does not invalidate what is true.”
Alluin pursed his lips, wondering if other Faerune scholars were just as odd.
“Oh get on with it,” Elmerah sighed, leaning forward in her seat. “The emperor plans to attack Faerune, and he plans on using the Dreilore to do it. As Saida already deduced, that Nokken was likely sent here to poison your wife and the others, weakening Faerune before the main assault.”
Ivran blinked at her. “That is not possible. The Empire and Faerune have been allies for decades. This alliance has brought peace to this land since the end of the Great War.”
Elmerah shrugged, then settled back against her seat. “Believe what you like for now. You’ll be forced to believe the truth when the Dreilore storm your crystal walls.”
Ivran turned to Alluin. “Is this true?”
He nodded. “My people have been spying on Egrin Dinoba for many years. He has been moving toward enacting his plan for some time now. Part of that plan was why your daughter was kidnapped. He hoped to trade her to the Akkeri in exchange for them attacking Galterra.”
Now Ivran turned to Elmerah for verification, but she no longer seemed interested in the conversation. He turned back to Alluin. “Why would he attack his own city?”
“To scare them into accepting the new alliance with the Dreilore. I was there when the emperor made the announcement, as was the commander of the Dreilore, Orius.”
Ivran pressed a hand to his brow and shook his head. “This cannot be.”
Raised voices sounded within the bedroom. It seemed Solana was not taking the news as well as Ivran.
A moment later, Saida emerged, then slammed the door behind her. Her face was flushed, and tears rimmed her eyes. “She’s impossible.”
Alluin watched as Ivran moved to console his daughter. They hadn’t even managed to broach the subject of alliances with Valeroot and the Arthali. Glancing at Elmerah, he knew the latter would likely be the thing that broke them all.
Saida
Saida’s fingers traced the words in the massive tome, propped open atop a wooden easel. The guards had been alerted there might be more Nokken in the city, and all healers and cooks of those who’d fallen ill were being questioned. Any who aroused the guard’s suspicions would be detained until Saida could take a look at them. After her argument with her mother, she’d needed space, so she’d left Elmerah and Alluin in the care of her father.
She closed the volume with a heavy sigh, brushing the embossed title, A Complete Compendium of Poisons and Antidotes, with her palm. There were many similar volumes in the library attached to the High Temple, for what little good it did her. They might not even need an antidote—her mother could very well recover now that the Nokken could poison her no longer—but they also had found no evidence of what type of poison was used. If it was something more aggressive like the toxin the Dreilore used to tip their arrows, she might need an antidote to survive.
“You should rest,” Alluin’s voice said from behind her. “You need to be at your best for your meeting with the High Council tomorrow.”
She turned to see him entering the quiet library. He seemed to fit well in the space, the earthy tones of his hair, eyes, and clothing blending in with the varying shades of leather binding the books, and the rich woods composing the shelves, podiums, and tabletops.
“Yes,” she sighed, walking over to the nearest shelf to plunk the heavy tome she’d been reading back in its space. “Or, what remains of the High Council, we should say. Two have perished, and one is as ill as my mother. I’ll only be meeting with Cornaith and Immril, and Immril is bound to oppose me.”
Alluin scanned the nearest books. “She would oppose you, even with the evidence at hand?”
Saida bit her lip, then leaned against the heavy oak table. If her own mother didn’t believe her, there was no way Immril would. “She had her eye on my father before I was born. She’s held a grudge against my mother ever since. She’s always opposed anything my mother has been in favor of, no matter her actual beliefs.”
Alluin turned to her. “There must be something we can do to convince her, and quickly. We’ve no idea how long it will take us to locate Isara.”
Saida’s frown deepened. “Yes, Isara. If it were up to my mother, I’d have no part in finding her. She wants me to stay here to make sure the Nokken don’t sneak back in.” She could still clearly picture her mother’s stunned expression when she’d told her she intended to leave Faerune again to search for Isara.
Alluin eyed her steadily for a long moment. “You know, that is not the worst idea.”
Her fingers clamped down on the table edge on either side of her. “You would rather find her on your own?”
He shrugged. “With Elmerah. It will not be a pleasant journey, but she has come in handy.”
Her chin drooped. “I cannot stay here. Now that the Nokken threat has been acknowledged, the guards will be more cautious. If I stay, I’ll be little more than a nuisance, and I’
ll be doing nothing to help my people.”
Alluin cleared his throat, but seemed hesitant to speak.
“What is it?” she sighed, pawing anxiously at a lock of her hair. “I’d think by now you could speak freely around me.”
He nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is true. It is simply an uncomfortable topic.”
Dropping her hands from her hair, she stared at him, waiting for him to go on. This entire day was a flurry of uncomfortable topics. What was one more?
He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “While we can hope for the best, we do not know if your mother will recover. You may be required to take your spot on the High Council.”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat. “She will recover. She’s resilient.”
Alluin shook his head. “You do not know that. You asked me to speak freely, so I will. Saida, your mother is quite ill, and she may not recover. You need to be prepared should such a thing come to pass.”
Her mouth went dry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head again. “You could not accept this with Merwyn, but you must accept it now. I once thought nothing harmful would befall my kin, but we are at war. Deaths are inevitable. We must all be prepared.”
Tears welled at the back of her eyes. She wanted to argue with him, but she couldn’t. He’d already suffered a nearly insurmountable loss.
She stilled her expression. “I am prepared to do what I must, but I will not remain behind to accept the role I was born to fulfill. I will not remain locked away in safety, making decisions I know little about. If I truly want to help my people, I need to find Isara and make her empress. Whether my mother lives or dies, that will be my course. And if she dies . . . ” she shook her head. “I want to be the one to make Egrin pay.”
Alluin watched her for a moment, carefully scanning her face, then nodded. “So be it. We will remain for one more day while the Nokken are caught and questioned, then we must move on, whether the High Council agrees or not.”
Saida replied with a sharp nod. “Agreed. We should discuss this with Elmerah to ensure she’s prepared.”
Alluin laughed. “You’ll find her in your bath. Once your father stopped badgering her with questions, she retreated there with a bottle of wine.”
Saida imagined her mother’s reaction to an Arthali swamp witch swilling wine in her bathtub and couldn’t help but grin, though it soon faded with the realization that she might not live long enough to care.
Elmerah
Elmerah rested chin-deep in the steaming water, scented with herbs and rich oils. Having servants to fill one’s bath was a new experience for her . . . as was having a bath at all. She’d bathed in cold streams far more often than in large iron tubs of heated water.
A sour expression pursing her lips, she took another swig straight from the bottle of wine. The elixir was more dark and smokey tasting than Valeroot wine, with hints of burberry instead of lavender.
She narrowed her eyes as the handle shifted on the nearby door. Her cutlass was on the marble floor with her pile of clothes, and she really didn’t want to sit up out of the water to fetch it. Instead, she watched as the door cracked open, remaining covered by water made murky with powdered herbs.
Her shoulders relaxed when Saida’s mother appeared in the doorway, helped along by a female elf in similar white garb to what the Nokken had worn.
“I hope you found yourself a proper healer this time,” Elmerah commented.
Solana Fenmyar inclined her head, draping her white-blonde hair over her shoulder, then gestured for the healer to help her into the room. The healer clearly wasn’t pleased. The blotchy red patches on her skin, matching the strawberry blonde hue of her short hair, showed her fluster.
Solana shuffled to a simple wooden chair by the washbasin and sat, her entire body seeming stiff with pain.
“I take it Ivran and Saida don’t realize you’re up and about?” Elmerah asked when Solana did not speak. “And by the way, I don’t know how you do things in Faerune, but in the Empire, people tend to bathe alone.”
Solana watched her steadily. She seemed a little more clear-headed than she had earlier, but still looked like death walking. “What do you want with my daughter? Why have you come here?”
Elmerah scowled, then took another swig of wine. She’d interrupted her bath for this? “You’d know those answers if you actually listened to what your daughter has to say.”
“She’s highly impressionable, and I know of your kind. You would never help a Faerune elf unless you had something to gain.”
Elmerah glared at her. She looked startlingly similar to Saida, only older, but the similarities stopped there. “Tell me, what do you think I want?”
Solana’s pale gaze narrowed. The healer stood beside her like a statue, avoiding eye contact. “For all I know, you’re in league with the Nokken. You’ve twisted my daughter’s mind to believe the Empire would actually betray us, when it is the Arthali behind it all.”
Elmerah snorted. “I see that poison has addled your mind as well. If the Arthali wanted to attack Faerune, they would not use the farce of friendship to do it.”
“You speak as if you’re not included in that.”
Elmerah rolled her eyes. So much for a nice, relaxing bath. She tilted her head in Solana’s direction. “Do you see any other Arthali here, or do you truly believe we’re all connected?”
“I may be ill, but I am not blind. You are pure-blooded Arthali. You have blood ties.”
“Blood ties,” Elmerah muttered, sinking lower into the water. She kept her eyes on the ends of her hair floating around her. “Only a Faerune elf would speak of such things.” She shifted her gaze to watch Solana from the corner of her eye.
Solana continued to watch her, though her body seemed to be slowly wilting. Stupid woman needed to be in bed.
“Look,” Elmerah sighed, sitting up a little. “I’m going to tell you a little story, but only because I don’t want Saida to blame me when you drop dead from refusing to rest.”
Solana pursed her lips, but did not interrupt.
“When I was a little girl,” she began, ignoring the iciness that crept into her heart whenever recalling painful memories, “I had very close blood ties. I had a mother, and though she was harsh, she loved me, and I had a sister who was my entire world. One day, my sister brought me out on a fishing boat. I was very excited, as we rarely ventured out so far alone. We didn’t return until nightfall, and things were very quiet. I still remember entering our modest little house, and finding it covered in my mother’s blood. I still remember her lifeless body lying in her bed.”
“What does this—” Solana began to interrupt.
Elmerah gestured to her with her half empty bottle. “No interruptions.”
Solana scowled, but remained silent.
“After we found our dead mother,” Elmerah continued, “Rissine—that’s my sister—Rissine convinced me we needed to flee. We left on a ship the next morning with a nearby clan. I was devastated, but I still had my sister, and I knew she would always protect me, and of course she would never lie.”
“Get to the point,” Solana snapped. “I don’t know what impression I’ve given, but I don’t care about your childhood.”
“And I don’t expect you to,” Elmerah sighed. “Rissine and I traveled together for many years after that. The pain of my mother’s loss healed. That was, until one evening when I heard some of the others talking. Whispering behind our backs. They whispered that Rissine knew my mother was going to be killed. She took me out on that boat while it happened, then returned with me and acted like she was just as devastated as I.” She sat up and met Solana’s expectant gaze. “As far as I’m concerned, my sister killed our mother. We could have fled with her, but instead Rissine left her there to be murdered.”
Solana’s expression softened. The healer had even turned her eyes to watch Elmerah as she told her tale.
“So you see, Solana,” she
finished. “I don’t give a badger’s rear about blood ties.”
Solana stared at her for several heartbeats. “Very well.” She gestured for the healer to help her stand. “I’ll leave you to your bath.”
As Solana hobbled to the door, Elmerah cleared her throat.
Solana paused and turned back to her.
“I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone that little tale. I find pity irritating.”
Solana nodded, then with the healer’s help, opened the door and departed, shutting it gently behind her.
Elmerah slumped back down into the water, which was beginning to grow cold. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d finally shared her story with someone—especially with Solana—but it didn’t matter. It was the past, and she was a stupid little girl no longer.
She would not be anyone’s victim—ever again.
Not moments after Solana’s departure, a crash sounded in the sitting area, followed by a scream.
Oh what is it now? Elmerah thought as she leapt from the tub, spilling her remaining wine as the bottle went rolling across the floor. Not taking time for breeches, she donned a loose silk bathing robe from a hook near the door, then flung the door open.
Two Faerune elves dressed in healer’s garb stood over Solana, one male and one female, daggers poised. Solana’s healer lay still near a toppled bookcase, unconscious or dead, Elmerah could not tell. The male nudged the female to look at Elmerah as Solana stared up at them in horror.
Elmerah considered her cutlass, which she’d left on the floor by the tub in her haste, then shook her head. “I was really enjoying that bath,” she chided, then plucked an iron fire-poker from a nearby container. With a quick thought and a burst of magic, she encased its tip in flame.
To her surprise, the intruders ignored the implied threat and turned their attention back to Solana, who was scuttling back across the expensive rug. The female lunged just as Elmerah swung her arm, whipping a streak of flame at her. The male turned and intercepted the flame, protecting his comrade.