Fires of Azeroth

Chapter Thirteen

The company was forming up outside Merir's tent… six arrhendim, all told: two younger; two older, the khemeis's hair almost as white as his arrhend, with faces well-weathered by time; and an older pair of arrhendim, women of the arrhend… not quite as old, for the khemeis of that pair had hair equally streaked with silver and dark, while her arrhend, like all qhal, aged yet more slowly and had the look of thirty human years.

Horses had been readied for the two of them, and Vanye was well-pleased with them: a bay gelding for him and a sorrel for Roh, both deep-chested and strong, for all their gracefulness. Even the herds of Morija would have been proud of such as these.

They did not mount up; one horse remained riderless, a white mare of surpassing beauty, and the party waited. Vanye heaved his gear up to his saddle and bound it there, found also a waterflask and saddlebags and a good gray blanket, such things as he would have asked had he dared press at their charity. A khemeis from the crowd came offering them cloaks, one for him and one for Roh. They put them on gratefully, for the day was cool for their light clothing.

And when all that was done, they still waited. Vanye stood scratching the bay's chin and calming his restiveness. He felt himself almost whole again, whether by Arrhel's draught or by the touch of a horse under his hands and his weapons by him… fretting to be underway, to be beyond intervention or recall, lest some circumstance change Merir's mind.

One of the khemi brought a chain of flowers, and bound it in the mane of the white horse; and came others, bringing such flower chains for each of the departing arrhendim.

But it was Ellur who brought a white one for Roh's horse, and Sin came bearing a chain of bright blue. The boy reached high to bind it into the black mane, so that they swung there like a chain of tiny bells. And then Sin looked up at him.

Premonition came on him that he was looking on the boy for the last time, that there would be-one way or another– no return for him from this ride. Sin seemed to believe it too this time. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he held them; he had been through Shathan: he was no longer the boy in Merrind.

"I have no parting-gift," Vanye said, searching his memory for something left that he owned but his weapons; and never had he felt his poverty as much as in that moment, that he had nothing left to spare. "Among our people we give something when we know the parting will be long."

"I made this for you," said Sin, and drew forth from his shirt a carving of a horse's head. It was made of wood, small, of surpassing skill, as there were so many talents in Sin's hands. Vanye took it, and thrust it within his collar. Then in desperation he cut a ring from his belt, plain steel and blue-black; it had once held spare leather, but he had none of that left either. He pressed it into Sin's hand and closed his brown fingers over it. "It is a plain thing, the only thing I have to give that I brought from home, from Morija of Andur-Kursh. Do not curse my memory when you are grown, Sin. My name was Nhi Vanye i Chya; and if ever I do you harm, it is not from wanting it. May there always be arrhendim in Shathan, and Mirrindim too. And when you are arrhendim yourselves, you and Ellur, see that it is so."

Sin hugged him, and Ellur came and took his hand. He chanced to look up at Roh, then, and Roh's face was sad. "Ra-koris was such a place," Roh said, naming his own hall in forested Andur. "If I had no reason to oppose the Shiua for my own sake, I would have now, having seen this place. But for my part I would save it, not take from it the only thing that might defend it."

The boys' hands were clenched in either of his; he stared at Roh and felt defenseless, without any argument but his oath.

"If she is dead," Roh said, "respecting your grief, cousin, I shall not even say evil of her-but you would be free then, and would you still carry out what she purposed? Would you take that from them? I think there is some conscience in you. They surely think so."

"Keep silent. Save your shafts for me, not them."

"Aye," Roh murmured. "No more of it." He laid his hand on his horse's neck, and looked about him, at the great trees that towered so incredibly above the tents. "But think on it, cousin."

There was a sudden murmuring in the crowd; it parted, and Merir passed through-a different Merir from the one they had seen, for the old lord wore robes made for riding; a horn bound in silver was at his side, and he bore a kit which he hung from the saddle of the white horse. The beautiful animal turned its head, lipped familiarly at his shoulder, and he caressed the offered nose and took up the reins. He needed no help to climb into the saddle.

"Be careful, Father," said one of the qhal. "Aye," others echoed. "Be careful."

Arrhel came. Merir took the lady's hand from horseback. "Lead in my absence," he bade her, and pressed her hand before he let it go. The others were begi

A last time Vanye bade the boys farewell, and let them go, and climbed into the saddle. The bay started to move of his own accord as the other horses started away; and before he had ridden far he was drawn to look back. Sin and Ellur were ru

The company rode mostly in silence, with the two young arrhendim in the lead and the eldest riding close by Merir. Vanye and Roh rode after them, and the two arrhendim rode last… no swords did they bear, unlike the arrhendim, but bows longer than the men's, and their slim hands were leathered with half-glove and bracer, old and well-worn. The khemeis of that pair often lagged behind and out of sight, serving apparently as rearguard and scout as the khemeis of the pair in front tended to disappear ahead of them to probe the way.

Sharrn and Dev were the names of the old arrhendim; Vanye asked of the arrhen Perrin, the qhalur woman, who rode nearest them. Her khemeis was Vis; and the young pair were Larrel and Kessun, cheerful fellows, who reminded him with a pang of Lellin and Sezar whenever he looked on them together.

They rested briefly halfway to dark. Kessun had vanished some time before that stop, and did not reappear when he ought; and Larrel paced and fretted. But the khemeis came in just as they were setting themselves ahorse again, and bowed apology, whispering something to lord Merir in private.

Then from somewhere in the far distance came the whistled signal of an arrhen, thin and clear as birdsong, advising them that all was well.

That was comforting to hear, for it was the first signal they had heard in all that ride, as if those who ranged the woods hereabouts were few or frightened. Lightness came on the arrhendim then, and a smile to Merir's eyes for a moment, though they had been sad before.

Thereafter Larrel and Kessun both parted company with them, and rode somewhere ahead.

Nor did they appear at night, when they could no longer see their way and stopped to set up camp.

They were settled near a stream, and brazenly dared a fire… Merir decided that it was safe enough. They sat down together in that warmth and shared food. Vanye ate, although he had small appetite: he felt the fever on him after the day's riding, and drank some of Arrhel's medicine.

He would gladly have sought his blanket then and gone to sleep, for his wounds pained him and he was exhausted from even so short a journey; but he refused to leave the fireside with Roh able to say what he would, to use his cleverness alone with the arrhendim. Chances were that Roh would keep his word; but he did not think it well to put overmuch temptation in Roh's way, so he rested where he was, bowed his head against his arms and sat savoring at least the fire's warmth.

Merir gave some whispered instruction to the arrhendim, which was not unusual in the day; quietly the arrhendim moved, and Vanye lifted his head to see what was happening.

It was Perrin and Vis who had withdrawn, and they gathered up their bows where they stood, deftly strung them.

"Trouble, lord?" Roh asked, frowning and tense. But the arrhendim made no move to depart on any business.

Merir sat unmoved, wrapped in his cloak, his old face gaunt and seamed in the firelight. All pure qhal had a delicate look, almost fragile; but Merir was like something carved in bone, hard and keen. "No," Merir said softly. "I have simply told them to watch."

The old arrhendim still sat at the fire, beside Merir; and something in the ma

"It is ourselves," Vanye said in a still voice, and a tremor of anger went through him. "I believed you, my lord."

"So have I believed you," Merir said. "Put off your weapons for the moment. I would have no misunderstanding -Do so, or forfeit our good will."

Vanye unbuckled the belts and shed the sword and the dagger, laid them to one side; and Roh did likewise, frowning. Dev came and gathered them all up, returned to Merir's side and laid them down on that side of the fire.

"Forgive us," said Merir. "A very few questions." He arose, Sharrn and Dev with him. He gestured to Roh. "Come, stranger. Come with me."

Roh gathered himself to his feet, and Vanye started to do the same. "No," said Merir. "Be wise and do not. I would not have you harmed."

The bows had drawn.

"Their ma

And Roh went with them willingly enough, possessed of knowledge enough to betray them thoroughly. They withdrew along the bank of the stream, where trees screened them from view. Vanye stayed as he was, on one knee.

"Please," said Perrin, her bow still bent. "Please do not do anything, sirren. Vis and I, we seldom miss even small targets separately. Together, we could not miss you at all. They will not harm your kinsman. Please sit down so that we may all relax."