Fires of Azeroth Page 5

  "Have you weapons," Morgaine asked, "with which you can protect this village?"

  "We would not tell you."

  "Will you at least take charge of the village?"

  "It is always in our keeping."

  "And therefore they welcomed us… not knowing us, save as qhal. "

  "Therefore you were welcomed, yes."

  Morgaine inclined her head as in homage. "Well, I understand a great many things that puzzled me. If Mirrind shows your care, then it speaks well for you. This I will tell you: Vanye and I are going back to Azeroth, to deal with the folk who have it now… and we go with your leave or without it."

  "You are arrogant."

  "And are not you, my lord qhal? You have your right… but no more right than we."

  "Such arrogance comes of power."

  Morgaine shrugged.

  "Do you ask leave to travel Shathan? You must have it. And I cannot give it."

  "I should be glad of your people's consent, but who can give it, and on what authority, if you will forgive the question?"

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  "Wherever you go, you will be constantly under our eye, my lady—whose speech is strange, whose manners are stranger still. I cannot promise you yea or nay. There is that in you which greatly alarms me, and you are not of this land."

  "No," Morgaine admitted. "When we began our flight, it was not at Azeroth. It is your misfortune that the Shiua horde chose this direction, but that was not our doing. They are led by a halfling qhal named Hetharu; and by a halfling man named Chya Roh i Chya; but even those two do not fully control the horde. There is no mercy in them. If you try to deal with them face to face, then expect that you will die as Eth did. I fear they have already shown you their nature; and I wish above all else that they had come against me and not against Eth."

  There were looks, and at last the foremost inclined his head. "Travel north along the stream; north, if you would live. A little delay to satisfy our lord may save your lives. It is not far. If you will not, then we shall count you enemies with the rest. Friends would come and speak with us."

  And without further word the three qhal turned— the one in the shadow was a woman. They departed as noiselessly as they had come.

  Morgaine swore softly and angrily.

  "Shall we take this journey?" Vanye asked. He had no eagerness for it, but likewise he had no eagerness to gather more enemies than they had.

  "If we fought, we would work enough ruin that these innocent folk would lie exposed to the Shiua; and probably we would lose our own lives into the bargain. No, we have no choice, and they know it. Besides, I do not completely believe that they came here unasked."

  "The Mirrindim? That is hard to think."

  "We are not theirs, Sersein said. This afternoon when Eth was killed and they doubted us— well, perhaps they sought other help. They were anxious to keep us here tonight. Perhaps they saved our lives by holding us here. Or perhaps I am too suspicious. We shall go as they asked. I do 36

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  not despair of it; I have felt from the beginning that the qhalur hand on this place was both quiet and not greatly remote."

  "They are gentler than some qhal I have met," he said, and swallowed heavily, for he still did not like proximity to them. "It is said, liyo, that in a part of Andur's forests that are called haunted, the animals are very tame and have no fear… having never been hunted. So I have heard."

  "Not unapt." Morgaine turned back toward the fire. She stood there a moment, then laid down Changeling and gathered her armor.

  "A leave-taking?"

  "I think we should not linger here." She looked back at him. "Vanye, gentle they may be; and perhaps they and we act for similar reasons. But there are some things— well, thee knows. Thee well knows. I trust no one."

  "Aye," he agreed, and armed himself, drew up the coif and set on his head the battered helm he had not worn since their coming to Mirrind.

  Then they departed together to the pen where the horses were.

  A small shadow stirred there as they opened the gate… Sin, who slept near the horses. The boy came forth and made no sound to alarm the village…

  shed tears, and yet lent his small hands to help them saddle and tie their supplies in place. When all was done, Vanye gave his hand as to a man…

  but Sin embraced him with feverish strength; and then to make the pain quick, Vanye turned and rose into the saddle. Morgaine set herself ahorse, and Sin stood back to let them ride out.

  They rode the commons quietly, but doors opened along their way all the same. Sleepy villagers in their nightclothes turned out to watch, silent in the moonlight, and stood by with sad eyes. A few waved forlornly. The elders walked out to bar their way. Morgaine reined in then, and bowed from the saddle.

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  "There is no need for us now," she said. "If the qhal-lard Lir is your friend, then he and his will watch over you."

  "You are not of them," said Bythein faintly.

  "Did you not suspect so?"

  "At the last, lady. But you are not our enemy. Come back and be welcome again."

  "I thank you. But we have business elsewhere. Do you trust yourselves to them?"

  "They have always taken care for us."

  "Then they will now."

  "We will remember your warnings. We will post the guards. But we cannot travel Shathan without their leave. We must not. Good journey to you, lady; good journey, khemeis. "

  "Good fortune to you," Morgaine said. They rode from the midst of the people, not in haste, not as fugitives, but with sadness.

  Then the darkness of the forest closed about them, and they took the road past the sentries, who hailed them sorrowfully and wished them well in their journey— then down to the stream, which would lead them.

  * * *

  There was no sign of any enemy. The horses moved quietly in the dark; and when they were far from Mirrind, they dismounted in the last of the night, wrapped themselves in their blankets and cloaks and slept alternately the little time they felt they could afford. By bright morning they were underway again, travelling the streamside by trails hardly worthy of the name, through delicate foliage that scarcely bore any mark of previous passage.

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  From time to time there came a whispering of brush and a sense that they were being watched: woodswise, both of them, so that it was not easy to deceive their senses, but neither of them could catch sight of the watchers.

  "Not our enemies," Morgaine said in an interval when it seemed to have left them. "There are few of them skilled in woodcraft, and only one of them is Chya."

  "Roh would not be here; I do not think so."

  "No, I do not doubt it. They must be the qhal who live here. We have escort."

  She was uneasy in it; he caught that in her expression, and agreed with it.

  A hush hung all about them as they went further. The horses moved with their necessary noise, breaking of twigs and scuff of forest mold… and yet something insisted there was another sound there, wind where it should not be, a whispering of leaves. He heard it, and looked behind them.

  Then it was gone; he turned again, for the trail bent with the stream, and they were entering a place not meant for riders, where often branches hung low and they must lean in the saddle to pass under… a wood wilder and older than the area where they had entered the forest, or that which surrounded Mirrind's placid fields.

  Again something touched at hearing, leftward.

  "It is back," he said, becoming vexed at this game.

  "Would it would show itself," she said in the qhalur tongue.

  They had ridden hardly around the next bending when an apparition stepped into their path— a youth clad in motley green, and tall and whitehaired… empty-handed.

  The horses snorted and shied up. Morgaine, in the lead, held Siptah, and Vanye moved up as close as he could on the narrow tr
ail.

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  The youth bowed, smiling as if delighted at their startlement. There was at least one more; Vanye heard movement behind, and his shoulders prickled.

  "Are you one of Lir's friends?" Morgaine asked.

  "I am a friend of his," said the youth, and stood with hands in his belt, head cocked and smiling. "And you wished for my company, so here I am."

  "I prefer to see those who share a road with me. You are also going north, I take it."

  The youth grinned. "I am your guard and guide." He swept an elaborate bow. "I am Lellin Erirrhen. And you are asked to rest tonight in the camp of my lord Merir Mlennira, you and your khemeis. "

  Morgaine sat silent a moment, and Siptah fretted under her, accustomed to blows exchanged at such sudden meetings. "And what of that one who is still watching us? Who is he?"

  Another joined Lellin, a smallish dark man armed with sword and bow.

  "My khemeis, " said Lellin. "Sezar," Sezar bowed with the grace of the qhal-lord, and when Lellin turned to lead the way, taking for granted that they would follow, Sezar went at his heels.

  Vanye watched them ghost through the brush ahead, somewhat relieved in his apprehensions, for Sezar was a Man like the villagers, and went armed while his lord did not. Either well-loved or well-defended, he thought, and wondered how many more there were thereabouts.

  Lellin looked back and grinned at them, waiting at a branching of the way, and led them off again on a new track, away from the stream. "Quicker than the other way," he said cheerfully.

  Morgaine said. "We were advised to stay by the streamside."

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  "Think nothing of that. Lir gave you a sure road; but you would be till tomorrow on that track. Come. I would not mislead you."

  Morgaine shrugged, and they went.

  They called halt of their guides at noon, and rested a time; Lellin and Sezar took food of them when it was offered, but disappeared thereafter without a word, and did not reappear until they grew tired of waiting and began to follow the dim trail on their own. Now and again came birdsong which was unnatural with so much moving; now and again either Lellin or Sezar would disappear from the trail, only to reappear at some far turning ahead… there seemed even shorter ways, though perhaps none that a horseman could take.

  Then in late afternoon there was the faint scent of woodsmoke in the air, and Lellin returned from one of his and Sezar's absences to stand squarely in their path. Hands in belt, he bowed with flippant grace. "We are near now. Please follow me closely and do nothing rash. Sezar has gone on to advise them we are coming in. You are quite safe with me; I have the utmost concern for your safety, since I stand so close to you. This way, if you will."

  And Lellin turned and led them onto a trail so overgrown that they must dismount and lead the horses. Morgaine delayed to take Changeling from her saddle and hook it to her shoulder-belt, the matter of an instant; and Vanye took not only his sword but his bow and quiver, and walked last, looking over his shoulder and round about him, but no threat was visible.

  It was not quite a clearing, not in the sense of Mirrind's broad circle. Tents were placed here among wide-spaced trees— and one tree dwarfed all the tents: nine or ten times a man's height it rose before it even branched.

  Others at the far side of the camp soared almost that high, and spread wide branches, so that shadow dappled all the tents.

  Their coming brought a stir in the camp, with qhal and Men lining the aisle down which they walked, where the light came greenly down, and the only sky showed golden-white in comparison to the shadowing branches.

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  None threatened them. There were tall, white-haired qhal, male and female; and small dark human-folk… a few elders of both kindreds stood among them, robed, old Men and old qhal, alike even to the silver hair at the last, though Men were sometimes bearded and qhal were not; and Men balded, and qhal seemed not to. The younger folk whatever their sex or kind wore breeches and tunics, and some were armed and some were not.

  They were a goodly-looking folk together, and walked with a free step and cheerfully, moving along with the strangers who had come to them as if all that animated them were curiosity.

  But Lellin stopped and bowed before they had quite crossed the camp.

  "Lady, please leave your weapons with your khemeis, and come with me."

  "As you have remarked," said Morgaine softly, "we two have outlandish wayss. Now, I have no objection to handing my weapons to Vanye, but how much more are you going to ask?"

  "Liyo," Vanye said under his breath, "no, do not allow it."

  "Ask your lord," said Morgaine to Lellin, "whether he will insist on it. For my own opinion, I am minded not to agree, and to ride out of here… and I can do that, Lellin."

  Lellin hesitated, frowning, then strode away to the largest of the tents.

  Sezar remained, arms folded, waiting, and they waited, holding the reins of the horses.

  "They are gentle-seeming," Vanye said in his own tongue, "but first they separate us from our horses, and you from your arms, and me from you. If they go on, we shall be divided into very small pieces, liyo. "

  She laughed shortly, and Sezar's eyes flickered, puzzled. "Do not think I mean to let that start," she said. "But bide easy until we know their minds; we need no unnecessary enemies."

  It was a longish wait, and all about them the folk of the camp stood staring at them. No weapon was drawn, no bow bent, no insult offered them.

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  Children stood with parents, and old ones remained in the forefront of the gathering: it was not the aspect of a people who expected violence.

  And at last Lellin returned, frowning still, and bowed. "Come as you wish.

  Merir will not insist, only I do ask you leave the horses; you cannot expect to take them too. Sezar will see that they are safe and cared for. Come with me, and see that you keep peace and do not threaten Merir, or we will show you quite another face of us, strangers."

  Vanye turned and took from Siptah's saddle Morgaine's personal kit, and shouldered the strap of that. Sezar took the reins of both horses and led them away, while he trailed Morgaine, and she walked beside Lellin to the green tent, that largest one of all in the camp.

  The flaps were back, reassuring, indicating less chance of outright ambush; and the qhal inside were elders, robed and unarmed, with old Men, who looked too advanced in years to use the daggers they generally wore. In their midst sat an old, old qhal, whose white hair fell thickly about his shoulders, confined with a gold band about his brow in the manner of a human king. His cloak was green as the spring leaves, the shoulders done in layers of gray feathers, smooth and minutely black-edged, a work of remarkable skill and beauty.

  "Merir," said Lellin softly, and bowed, "lord of Shathan."

  "Welcome," Merir bade them, a low and gentle voice, and a chair was unfolded and offered Morgaine. She settled, while Vanye stood at her shoulder.

  "Your name is Morgaine; your companion's is Vanye," said Merir. "You stayed in Mirrind until you took it upon yourself to bid its young folk venture into Shathan, and lost one of them. You say now that you are going to Azeroth, and you warn of invasion out of the Fires. You are not Shathana, neither of you. Are all these reports true?"

  "Yes. Do not expect, my lord Merir, that we understand much of what passes in your land; but we are enemies of those who have massed out on 43

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  the plain. We are on our way to deal with them, such as we can; and if we must have your permission, then we ask it."

  Merir gazed on her a long time, frowning, and she on him, nothing yielding. At last Merir turned and spoke briefly to one of the elders. "You have ridden far," he said then. "You are at least due hospitality while we talk, you and your khemeis. You seem impatient. If you know of some imminent attack, say, and I assure you we will act
; or if not, then perhaps you will take the time to speak with us."

  Morgaine said nothing, and sat easily, the while such hospitality was arranged, and while the old lord gave instruction for the preparation of a tent and shelter for them. For his part, Vanye stood with his hand on the back of Morgaine's chair, watching every move and listening to every whisper… for they two had knowledge of Gates, and of the powers of them, knowledge which some qhal had lost and which some would kill to learn. Whatever the gentleness of the folk, there was that to fear.

  Drink was brought and offered them both; but Vanye leaned forward and took the drink from Morgaine's hand, sipped at it first and gave it back to her before he took a drink of his own. She simply held the cup in her hand, though Merir drank of his.

  "Are these your customs?" Merir asked.

  "No," said Vanye out of turn, "but they are, among our enemies."

  The other qhal looked displeased at that forwardness with the old lord.

  "No," Merir said. "Let be. I shall speak with them. Go, all who should. We shall speak," he added then, "of things belonging to the inner councils of our people. Although you have insisted that your khemeis must remain with you, still it might be well if you dismissed him as far as the outside of the tent"

  "No," said Morgaine. Not all the qhal had departed. Those remaining settled, some on the mats and the oldest ones in chairs. "Sit down," she said aside. Vanye unslung his bow and tucked his sword aside to sit crosslegged at her feet. It was a posture less than formal, and he kept the 44

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  cup in one hand the while, sipped at it a second time, for he had felt no ill from the first taste. Morgaine tasted hers then, and crossed her booted ankles and extended her legs before her, easy in her attitude and bordering on too much casualness for the qhal's liking. She did it deliberately; Vanye knew her well enough to sense the tension in her. She sought their limits and had not yet found them.