Fire-heart (Tales of Alterra, the World that Is)

by C S Marks

  “You will both need to speak with him, then,” said Gaelen, who apparently held the mistaken idea that she was still part of the conversation. Both Estle and Hallagond looked at her curiously for a moment. “Is that not so?” asked Gaelen, “Or were you planning to spirit yourselves away by dark of night, without telling him?”

  Hallagond and Estle went silent for a moment before bursting out laughing. Hallagond immediately regretted this, holding his aching head with both hands, but he could not help himself.

  “Oh, yes! We’ll surely be able to escape notice with our caravan of dromadin and our beaming scarlet Elf wearing her fire-cloak,” said Estle.

  “Are you quite finished?” asked Gaelen, after the laughter subsided. “I ask you now, when will you tell Azori? I will go along to aid you, if needed.”

  This set Estle to laughing again. Hallagond, unfortunately, was beginning to look rather green. “Oh, thank you, Gaelen. You’d be of great help, I’m sure,” said Estle, rolling her eyes.

  Gaelen did not take notice; she was staring in fascination at Hallagond’s face, which was now the color of grass in late autumn.

  “Come, my brother, before you treat these Elves to a sight that I doubt they will have seen before,” said Rogond, helping his brother to his feet and half-dragging him behind a nearby dwelling, apparently just in time. Fima began humming considerately, but it was not enough to prevent the strange, deep liquid belching sounds from reaching them. It sounded like someone had thrown a small pot of stew onto the ground, which, in a way, someone had. Gaelen and Nelwyn looked at each other and shrugged. Men did many things that were disgusting.

  “To answer your question, Gaelen, I don’t know when Hallagond is planning to inform Azori, and though I appreciate your offer of aid, it will not be needed,” said Estle.

  “If I’m not mistaken, we plan to remain here only a day or two longer,” said Gaelen. “You will need to make peace with your brothers before then.” She turned to leave, but looked back over her shoulder just in time to witness Estle making silly faces at her back.

  Gaelen suppressed a smile. “As for the answer to your question of whether I am capable of feeling the effects of too much wine, it depends,” she said.

  “On what?” asked Fima, who had never witnessed real drunkenness in any Elf, and did not think it possible.

  “It depends on the wine,” said Gaelen, just before she retreated to the horse-yards, pausing first to collect what still remained of her breakfast.

  Hallagond spent much of the day sleeping and regaining his strength. When he came to the fireside that evening, his friends were relieved to see that his face was of normal coloring and, in fact, he looked quite hale.

  “I am nearly starving,” he said enthusiastically, lifting the lid of an enormous iron pot that was simmering over hot coals. What he saw transported him with delight. “Laffas! I have not tasted this in months. What perfect nectar for a starving man.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” said Estle, who was one of the few that could actually prepare the dish properly. “Regrettably, you’ll need to starve for a while longer, as it is not yet ready. The peppers have not yet turned black enough. Have some flatbread while you wait.”

  Hallagond sat down between Fima and Bint Raed, who handed him a small piece of leathery flatbread made from wheat, barley, and sunflower. It tasted delicious, though it would be easy to break one’s teeth on it. Dromadan milk was very rich, and made beautiful creamy butter. Hallagond was soon quite content to wait for his favorite dish.

  Estle declared the laffas ready to serve just as Gaelen and Nelwyn appeared. “And where are our bandit friends?” asked Nelwyn, secretly thankful that they were nowhere in evidence. Estle looked meaningfully at Hallagond.

  He nodded before answering. “They have decided to leave us to ourselves tonight. I asked them if they would not mind feasting on their own, giving you and your friends a rest from their no doubt well-intentioned but perhaps excessive…ah, enthusiasm.”

  “You mean their drunken riot?” said Galador.

  Hallagond ignored the comment. He had better find his good humor somehow, for things are about to get a whole lot worse in his orderly, courteous world. Better to allow him to enjoy a last meal in peace.

  “Let’s all eat of this wonderful laffas. Estle went to a great deal of trouble to make it.” He picked up a large clay bowl and moved to stand by the iron pot, waiting.

  Estle served him a heaping bowlful, and he happily returned to his place beside Fima. “What, exactly, is that?” asked the dwarf, peering curiously at the dark, steaming concoction.

  “It’s a kind of Ravani pepper-stew,” he replied. “Not for the faint-hearted, though, I warn you.”

  Fima began looking around for a spoon, but found none.

  “No, Fima…you eat laffas like this, with your fingers,” said Hallagond. “Let it cool for a few minutes before you try.” He demonstrated, using the three middle fingers of his right hand, scooping a quantity of the lumpy, blackish-red stew into his mouth, whereupon he closed his eyes with pleasure.

  Everyone had now been served; it remained only for them to taste the laffas. The Elves would not use their fingers, preferring instead to use their flatbread as a scoop. Gaelen sniffed at her bowl, wrinkling her nose as the heated vapors assailed it. “This is very, very spicy,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Estle, “it contains six different kinds of peppers, all of which I was lucky enough to find here. It also has many different lentils and beans, rice, and three different meats. It will both warm you and fill you quickly. Try it!”

  The three Elves looked at one another, lifted their flatbread in unison, and simultaneously took a bite. They chewed thoughtfully, savoring the taste, and finally swallowed it. They looked at Estle, who had been expecting them to choke on the searing hot spices. “This would taste fine, were it not completely overpowered by the peppers,” said Nelwyn.

  “Indeed,” said Gaelen. “Why do men seek to prove their mettle by consuming spicy-hot foods? I have never understood this. Far better to develop discriminating taste than to paralyze the inside of your mouth and throat with pepper. Though this is by no means unbearable, and there is an undercurrent of very fine flavor.”

  “True,” said Galador, looking over at Estle. “I expect it is an acquired taste.”

  Estle rolled her eyes heavenward. If she had hoped for a significant reaction from the Elves, she would be denied. Fima, however, would not disappoint her. Neither would Rogond or Bint Raed. Their eyes and noses were streaming, and they were gulping water even as they asked for a second helping.

  Rogond looked over at his brother, who was likewise drinking large amounts of water. “A good thing your stomach has settled since this morning. This would be a lot more painful coming back up.”

  “Indeed,” said Hallagond. “Bringing up laffas would be no laughing matter.” He was rewarded for this terrible comment by having at least three pieces of flatbread thrown at him.

  Once they had partaken of food and drink, the Company turned their attention to Hallagond, who had risen to his feet. “I have something important to tell you,” he said. “Although it is perhaps not the best news, you must remain of open mind, for some good will come of it, I’m sure.”

  He swallowed in a dry throat, wondering how to break the news to them. He had gone with Estle to see Azori not two hours earlier, and the meeting had not exactly gone as he had hoped. He winced inwardly, remembering the expression on Azori’s face as his sister told him everything he didn’t want to hear.

  “We need to talk,” she had said.

  “Well, what is there to talk about?” said Azori, patting the cushion beside him. “Sit down, then, and we’ll talk, though my mind is made up already concerning you.”

  “That’s what we need to talk about,” said Estle, folding her arms. “If you don’t mind, could you ask your…um, ‘associates’ to leave us alone? I feel somewhat vulnerable with them lurking in dark corners.”
/>   Azori dismissed his men with a wave of his hand. “All right, we’re alone. So talk.”

  Estle forced herself to look directly into his dark eyes, though she dreaded his reaction to her next declaration. “I am not returning to the Chupa with you.”

  Azori lifted one side of his mouth in a sort of sneering half-smile. “Of course you are.”

  “No, I’m not! You don’t own me, Azori, and I won’t have my actions dictated by you. You’ve tried to rule my life since I was a child, and I’ve never liked it. In fact, it’s your fault that I don’t have a husband and a house full of children…as soon as a man finds out that I’m your sister, I never see him again.”

  Azori sniffed. “Is it my fault none of them have been worthy? I have kept you safe all these years, and I should think a little gratitude would be in order.”

  “I will not debate this with you…I haven’t the time,” she said. “But know that I intend to go with my friends, and you can’t stop me. If you or your men take after any of them, I will never speak to you again. I mean it, Azori. One hair on any of their heads is harmed, and you’re dead to me.”

  Azori sighed. “There’s no need for such dramatics.”

  “I’m not being dramatic. I’m through with you and your attitude of ownership. From now on, I make my own choices, and if you want to be a part of my life, you ask permission.”

  Azori’s face reddened and his eyes grew blacker than ever. In the dim light, they almost looked reptilian. He turned to Hallagond, as if noticing him for the first time.

  “Why are you here?”

  “Estle asked me to come, just in case her resolve wavered or you couldn’t hold your temper.”

  “Did you put these ideas into her head?”

  Hallagond stared back at him. “Estle has her own ideas, Azori. Her thoughts are not all put into her head by men, and certainly not be me.”

  Azori turned back to Estle. “You are absolutely convinced that you won’t return home with me?”

  “I may return one day, but for now I choose to follow my friends.”

  Azori thought for a moment. “Well, I can’t exactly fault you for bring stubborn, as it is a family trait.” His eyes had returned to their normal warm brown, to Hallagond’s relief. He sat in silence for a moment, as though unsure of his next move.

  “I knew that one day you would defy me, though I had hoped it would not be this day in particular,” he said. “But not to worry…I have come up with a solution.”

  He turned to Hallagond. “And I will hear no argument.”

  Now, Hallagond stood before his friends, having gained their undivided attention.

  “Very well then… I shall tell my news now.” He turned to Estle. “May I have some water, please? Thank you. Now, then, my news. Yes. Any minute now.”

  “Get on with it, won’t you?” growled Fima, who did not like to be kept waiting. “What have you to say that is proving so difficult?”

  Hallagond stood perfectly still and silent, as though frozen, for a moment. At last he began. “I have spoken with Azori, declaring my intention to go with you to the Silver City. Estle has done the same.” He paused and looked around at his friends.

  “Well, we knew that, didn’t we? That’s certainly good news,” said Fima. “Why did you seem so hesitant to tell us that?”

  “Because he isn’t finished,” said Gaelen, a look of dawning dread in her eyes. “Are you?”

  “No, Gaelen, I’m not,” said Hallagond. “Azori and Azok will not allow Estle to make such a dangerous crossing alone. They insist on going with us, at least for a while.” For a few moments there was no sound to be heard, save for the quiet crackling of the fire and the chirping of a few lonely crickets.

  The stunned silence was broken first by Gaelen. “Azori and Azok…the bandits. The thieving, drunken bandits. Right?”

  “No, he means Azori and Azok the kitten-vendors,” said Nelwyn.

  Rogond was aghast. “Do you truly need me to list the five hundred reasons why that is a bad idea? I had better begin at once. One: Azori and his men are bandits. Two: We are leaving the day after tomorrow. Three: They do not have provisions for the journey. Four: Galador and that easterner despise one another. Five: I’m sure the people of the Citadel will have enough difficulty accepting strangers who are not in the company of a group of criminals. Six…”

  “All right,” said Hallagond. “I know all of these things. If you would prevent Azori from traveling with us, I will welcome any suggestion as to how to prevent him. And while I’m at it, let me offer a few reasons why this could actually benefit the Company. One: Azori is quite capable of provisioning himself and his men in a day. Two: He is very wealthy at the moment and will make certain that we all have ample provisions. Three: He is highly experienced in both desert travel and in desert warfare. Four: We may need him and his men to defeat the Scourge, for they are fierce fighters. Five…”

  “Here is the biggest point on Rogond’s list, Hallagond,” said Gaelen. “Azori and his men are not trustworthy. They are as likely to run from the Scourge, or even to join with them, to save themselves.”

  “My brothers are not of the same lofty character that you would find trustworthy,” said Estle, her cheeks flushed with hot blood. “But I know them. They would defend me to the death if they had to.”

  “And when you lay dead before this terrible army, they would have no other reason to resist,” said Gaelen gently. “They will do what they must to survive, no matter the outcome.”

  “Again, worthy friends, I would welcome any suggestions as to how to prevent Azori from going wherever he will,” said Hallagond.

  All eyes turned to Estle in that moment, for everyone in the Company knew that Azori would never undertake the crossing were Estle not with them.

  Galador shook his head and rose to stand beside Hallagond. “As much as it pains me to say it, I’m afraid we have no choice. We all know that Estle is the reason Azori’s men would follow us, but if she remains, I believe Hallagond will also. If Hallagond remains, so then will Rogond, at least until his life-debt is paid. I will not leave Rogond, and neither will Gaelen. Nelwyn and Fima will not leave their friends either, and we cannot allow Bint Raed to attempt the crossing alone. Therefore, at least for now, we shall be forced to endure the company of Azori and his bandits.”

  Hallagond sighed. “I’m sorry for this, my friends, but I must tell you…I’m relieved that Azori has chosen this course, rather than several others available to him. Think on that for a moment.” He returned to his place by the fire, as the Company pondered his words. Azori did have several other choices open to him, all of which involved violence done to the Company.

  “How reassuring,” muttered Fima. “At least he will wait until we are far from the city to kill us.”

  “He may try,” said Gaelen, “but at least we’ll see him coming.”

  “One thing is certain,” muttered Galador. “I will not walk the same path as that easterner. They may follow us, but they may not walk beside us so long as he is with them.”

  Hallagond nodded. “I’m sure Azori will understand, and I don’t think the easterner will object to walking a separate path from the Elves, either.”

  Azori and his men set about the task of provisioning themselves for a journey that would take a very long time to complete. All in the Company were uneasy as they went about their final preparations, though Azori tried his best to open friendly relations with them. After all, this would be easier if they did not at least openly despise one another.

  One of the sutherlings, named Hattaras, knelt beside Gaelen as she applied a healing ointment to Hallagond’s new horse, Derrin. “I see you have some ability to help the lame ones,” he said, admiring Gaelen’s technique as she stroked the animal’s legs. “That is an important skill, especially where we’re going. I wish you would teach me how to stroke legs so effectively.”

  Apparently, Hattaras did not suffer from the same reluctance as most sutherling men, for he t
hrew a companionable arm across Gaelen’s shoulders quite unexpectedly.

  She stiffened, clenching her teeth. “Take your hand from my shoulder, please. Were I not reluctant to startle this animal, I would do it for you.”

  Hattaras did not withdraw his arm, but spoke to her again. “Now, now, little flower...do not be so unfriendly. We will travel together for many weeks, you and I. Why not make the best of it? I mean nothing unseemly; I am simply extending a friendly hand.”

  “The last person who called me ‘little flower’ ended up dead in the desert with his head taken off,” she replied. “Keep your friendly hand to yourself, or you will lose it.” Derrin sensed her disquiet and began to move restively about.

  “Ooh, this flower has thorns,” said Hattaras, removing his arm. He laughed at Gaelen, who looked sidelong at him and rose to her feet, stroking Derrin’s neck to calm him.

  “We leave tomorrow at dawn,” she said. “Once on the path I will neither speak to you nor acknowledge that you exist, except perhaps in the heat of battle when need is on you. I expect you to likewise refrain from speaking to me again. If you touch me, you will lose your hand. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

  Hattaras laughed again, to Gaelen’s surprise. She was accustomed to having her threats taken seriously. “It would not be the first time, little flower,” he said, showing both a gap-toothed smile and the empty left sleeve of his robe, for he had lost one of his hands already. He held up a very lifelike wooden replica, which he then re-affixed to his left wrist before leaving her to stare after him in dismay. How in the world had they been saddled with such a burden?

  “No matter,” she growled. “There are only twelve of them, and I have many arrows.” Hattaras had smelled rather strongly, and she would wash away all trace of him ‘ere she left in the morning.

  Quite an impressive caravan stood assembled near Mumari’s main water-source, a large pond that was fed from below ground. Animals were allowed to drink only from troughs lined up along one end; since the Plague, people were not allowed to bathe in the water directly, but they could take it from the pond and bathe in their own homes.