The Elven Hunter nodded and hurried off across the grass with several anxious glances back. In spite ofhis promise, he would tell his friends what had been said. In particular, he would tell them that their commander was anticipating another attack, one that might not turn out as well for the Elves as this one had. Word would spread quickly. Panic, if not squelched, would as well.
Pied turned back to Ti Auberen and Erris Crewer. "Form up the wounded-everyone who can't fight another battle right away. Detail enough men to carry those who can't walk. Ilse as few as you can manage, but enough so that they can travel afoot for several days. I want them to make for the Rappahalladran, then for the villages in the Duln. They will find wagons there to complete the rest of the journey home. With luck, they will come across an airship to transport them. Form up everyone else and prepare to march. We'll move east toward that pass Whyl mentioned, the tougher one that leads to the defensive position of our allies. Our best choice now is to try to link up with Vaden Wick before the enemy finds us again. There's some cover along the way. It may help shield us from Federation airships."
"Captain, if they send airships after us, whether it's the one with that weapon or not, we won't be able to hide this many men," Erris Crewer pointed out quietly.
Pied met his gaze. "Get on with it, Lieutenant. I want all burials completed and the wounded dispatched north within the hour. I want the rest of us heading east. Wait, not all of us. Detail two dozen men to stay behind to watch the pass in case the Federation decides to send scouts through to see if we're still here.
We don't want them to find out too quickly that we've gone. All we need is a presence to keep them guessing. The men can use the time to create false trails. 1 want them to hold the pass for one day, then catch up to us. Put a Tracker or two in the mix. And bring up Whyl again, as well. We'll need what he knows about the country."
When they were gone, he walked over to Drumundoon. His aide shifted his lanky body from foot to foot. He looked dusty and tired, but he smiled at Pied anyway. "Not much help for some things, is there, Captain?"
"Drum, I need you to do something," Pied replied, taking the other's arm and steering him away from everyone else. "Word has to be sent to Arborlon of what's happened. Maybe it's already been done, but we can't know. The Elven High Council has to be told that the King and his sons are dead. More to the point, they have to be told to send reinforcements. More airships, more men to fly them. We don't stand a chance without their support. I want you to do this. Travel on foot until you can find horses. Then ride until you can find an airship. Take two of the Home Guard with you, just in case. Leave at once."
Drumundoon looked at him. "Arling will be Queen now," he said. "It will be her decision."
He was saying that she might not be favorably disposed toward Pied's suggestion, no matter what the High Council said. Nor toward Pied, for that matter, once she learned that he had failed to keep her sons safe. But there was nothing Pied could do about it without speaking to her. He had to hope she would allow him the opportunity, that something of what he believed she had once felt for him would persuade her to do what was right.
"Do the best you can, Drum," he said quietly. He placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "But do it quickly."
"I don't like leaving you, Captain," his aide replied, shaking his head slowly, looking down at his feet.
"I don't like having you leave me. But we don't always get to choose in these matters. I have to send someone I can depend upon to do this. There isn't anyone I depend on more than you." He thought he saw Drumundoon actually blush, but it was hard to tell beneath the layers of dirt and sweat. Drum rubbed his fringe of black beard and nodded. "I'll do my best."
He was, as usual, as good as his word. By the time the wounded were loaded on litters and their bearers and caregivers ready to depart, Drum was already gone. Pied found himself wishing he could have given his friend something more than encouragement, but at least he was sending him out of the fighting. Drum was a good man, but he wasn't meant to stand in the front lines on a battlefield.
Maybe I'm not meant jor this, either,Pied thought.But here I am.
He slung his longbow across his shoulders, cinched his quiver a notch tighter, and went off to meet his fate.
Seven.
Darkness had settled across the cities of the Southland, but it was nothing compared to the darkness that had found a home in Shadea a'Ru's heart. She stood at a floor-to-ceiling window in a reception room deep inside Sen Dunsidan's compound, staring out at the lights of Arishaig. She had not moved from that spot, had barely changed her position, in more than an hour. She had gone deep inside herself, escaping the disagreeableness of the present, a Druid trick she had taught herself early on in her time at Paranor, when she had no friends and no future. It had served her well then, it was less effective now.
Behind her, the Captain of her Gnome Hunters stood with two of his men and watched her uneasily. He could feel the heat radiate from her. He felt her anger as she quietly seethed. He did not want to be present when she reached the boiling point, but there was nowhere else for him to go.
It had been a long day in more ways than one. They had arrived aboard theBremen the previous night, only to be told that Sen Dunsidan had not yet returned from the Prekkendorran, where he was personally overseeing the destruction of the Elves. Shadea had been willing to forgive his failure to adhere to their schedule, the defeat of the Elves was a major blow to the Free-born hopes, and the Prime Minister would want to make certain things did not go awry. She had heard of the defeat of the Elven fleet, of the burning of their airships, and of the deaths of Kellen Elessedil and his young sons. She had heard of the subsequent rout of the Elven army and its frantic retreat into the hills north. Sen Dunsidan had accomplished something important, and he had done it without her help. She would grant him his victory, even though it rankled her that he had deliberately gone behind her back to achieve it. She had gone to bed in the quarters provided for her with the expectation that their meeting would take place promptly the next day.
She had been wrong. A day of touring the ministries, of speaking before the Coalition Council, and of deliberate delays had left her convinced that something she knew nothing about was happening. She could feel it in the attitude of the Ministers with whom she met-men and women who were civil and indulgent, but clearly disdainful of her, as well. They extended courtesies because they would do so even to their worst enemy on such a visit, but there was no warmth or sincerity in the efforts.
By nightfall, she had lost her patience with Sen Dunsidan entirely. She had been advised of his return several hours earlier, but then he had asked that she wait while he freshened himself for their meeting. She had kept her composure mostly by telling herself that it would only weaken her position with him to reveal the depths of her irritation. If he thought he could undo her so easily, he would be much moredifficult to manage. And she already knew from the news of his victory on the Prekkendorran and the nature of her reception here that he would be difficult in any case.
A knock sounded on the door to the reception room and a functionary cautiously stepped just inside the opening. Shadea came out of her shell instantly, but let him stand where he was for a moment, her eyes directed out the window toward the city. Then, drawing herself up, she turned to face him.
"My lady," he said, bowing to her. "The Prime Minister apologizes for the delay and begs your indulgence for just a few minutes more. He is almost ready to receive you and asks that you wait-"
"I have waited long enough," she said quietly, cutting off the rest of what he was about to say.
The words were edged in steel so sharp that the functionary winced visibly. He hesitated, then tried to speak again, but Shadea's hand had lifted, her fingers had pointed in his direction, and suddenly his voice had failed completely. He gasped and tried again and again, but nothing would come out.
She crossed the room and stood before him. "Captain?" she said to the leader of her Gnome escort. His hard, weathered face appeared at her elbow. "Ready theBremen for departure. Take your men with you. I will be along in a few minutes."
Her Captain of the Guard frowned. "It is not safe for you here alone, Mistress."
"Safer for me than for some," she answered. "Do as I say."
He left without further comment, taking his men with him, leaving her alone in the reception room with the still-voiceless functionary.
"As for you, little man," she said to him, "I have other plans. Do you wish your voice back?" The functionary nodded eagerly. "I thought as much. What service do you think I require of you if I am to grant you this favor?"
He didn't need to ask. He led her out through the doorway and down the hall. They passed dozens of guards, all armed and at watch, but none tried to stop them. Shadea had drawn her Druid robes tight about her, but within their folds, concealed from view, the fingers of her right hand flexed in a series of intricate moves, calling up magic to within easy reach, readying herself for the unexpected. She did not think she would have to use her magic, but she knew enough to be prepared in case she did. She could not trust Sen Dunsidan, could not rely on him to act honorably toward her, even as a guest of state. One thing she had learned about the Prime Minister of the Federation-he would do whatever he felt was necessary to get what he wanted.
The hallway ended at a pair of ornately carved double doors that stood open to the light. The room within was candlelit but draped in its corners and along its edges by deepest shadow. She heard Sen Dunsidan's voice, smooth and persuasive, a hiss against the silence. A snake's voice, she thought. But she knew how to draw the poison from his fangs.
The functionary turned toward her questioningly as they reached the door, uncertain of what he was expected to do next. She solved the problem for him by fastening one hand about his neck and marching him into the room in front of her.
Sen Dunsidan was seated on a couch to one side, sipping wine and speaking with a shadowy figure seated in the corner of the room where it was darkest. Shadea did a quick search of the chamber, foundonly the two and no one else present, swept up to Sen Dunsidan in a rush of black robes, and threw his functionary at his feet.
"Ready to receive me now, Prime Minister?" she asked softly. She eyed the glass of wine he held poised midway to drinking and smiled. "Go ahead. Finish it."
He did so, watching her carefully, clearly surprised by her appearance, but not altogether unprepared. A man like him was never entirely unprepared. She gestured at the functionary, who coughed out a few startled words, climbed quickly to his feet, and ran from the room.
"I was just about to come for you," Sen Dunsidan said, putting down the glass of wine and rising. "But I wanted to make certain of what I would say before we met."
"You have had time enough to make certain of what you will say for the next year. What seems to be the problem? Are you at a loss for words? Do you find your oratorical skills have suddenly deserted you?"
She paused. "Or are you simply worried about how I might perceive your duplicity in acting without my knowledge in the matter of the Prekkendorran?"
The Prime Minister's face darkened. "I do not need to apologize for that. I acted when the opportunity presented itself, just as you would have done in my place. Had I waited to consult with you, the opportunity would have been forever lost. Don't presume to lecture me on how to conduct myself as leader of the Federation. I do what I must."
"Yes," she acknowledged. "And you tell me of it in your own good time, it seems. I do not judge you for your decision in attacking the Free-born. I judge you for your failure to inform me of it. It smacks of an independence that verges on rebellion. Have we come to a point where you think you no longer have need of an alliance with me? Or with the Druid order? Does your success whisper to you that you are sufficiently strong that you need ally yourself with no one? Is that the course you have chosen?"
She turned toward the shadowy figure in the corner. "Or do you take your counsel from someone else these days, someone you think may advise you better?"
There was a long silence. Then the figure in the corner rose, a slow languid movement of limbs and torso. "He seeks the counsel of someone who has his best interests at heart, Shadea."
iridia."
She breathed the name like a curse. Iridia Eleri-or at least a pale imitation of the Elven sorceress-stepped into the light. Whatever Shadea might have thought she would find, it wasn't this.
There was no reason for Iridia to be present, not as an ally to Sen Dunsidan, not as a creature in thrall to the Prime Minister of the Federation. Even more shocking was how her onetime ally looked-bloodless and drained of life, thin to the point of emaciation, and hard-eyed in a way she had never seemed before.
There was something wrong with her, but Shadea could not decide what it was.
"Did you think you had seen the last of me?" Iridia asked, her voice as bloodless as her face. "Did you think me safely away from Paranor and your Druid schemes?"
Shadea stared, not knowing what she thought, except that it wasn't this.
"You drove me from Paranor," Iridia continued in her flat, lifeless monotone. "You refused me any chance to gain revenge over the man who had wronged me. You took away my power. You stripped meof my pride. So I came here, to give my services to one who would better appreciate them."
Shadea looked back at Sen Dunsidan. He shrugged. "She acts as my personal adviser now. Her help has been invaluable to me. I hope you don't intend to try to rob me of it out of jealousy or a misguided sense of prior claims."
She grimaced. "Please, Prime Minister, try not to sound as stupid as you act. I don't care whom you bring into your confidence. Even her. She speaks the truth. She was banished when she failed to live up to her pledge to serve the order. She would not be welcomed back now even if she sought to return voluntarily. I certainly have no intention of trying to make her return by force. But you might think about her failure to serve one master and ask yourself how likely it is that she will successfully serve another."
"I think I am the best judge of how well a person will serve me, Shadea." Sen Dunsidan shrugged.
"After all, I was smart enough to ally myself with you, wasn't I?"
"An alliance that no longer seems to have much merit, given what I see of your present situation."
The Prime Minister moved over to his couch and sat down again, his earnest expression only barely concealing the satisfaction she was certain he was feeling at her discomfort. She would have liked to wipe it away with her fingernails, but she wanted to see where things were going first.
"Our alliance still has value," he said, motioning for her to sit. She remained where she was. "As I said, I acted as I did on the Prekkendorran because the opportunity presented itself. But the war is not over, and I still have need of your support. And the support of the Druid order. If I am to successfully conclude the war with the Free-born, I must press north and west to force a resolution. I cannot do this without at least the tacit support of the Druids. By the same token, I know that you need my support, as well. You lack any other alliances. The Dwarves, the Elves, the Trolls, and the Bordermen all refuse to give you the allegiance you seek. They have not yet accepted you as Ard Rhys. For that matter, some within your own order have not accepted you."
She said nothing, holding her temper, showing nothing of what she was feeling. When the time was right, she would squash him like a bug-assuming Iridia let him live that long. Shadea was convinced that the sorceress was making use of him for her own needs and would keep him around only so long as was necessary.
"I don't say that you won't find a way to deal with these troublemakers, Shadea," the Prime Minister continued. "But you must agree that it will make things considerably easier for you if we maintain our alliance rather than cast it aside. And, of course, it will make things easier for me, as well."
"Especially if your armies suffer another defeat like the one they suffered in the passes north of the Prekkendorran two days ago." She smiled. "How many men did you lose? More than a thousand? At the hands of some ragtag Elven castoffs you had driven from the heights?"
She enjoyed the look of surprise that appeared on his face, a look he tried without success to conceal.
He had not expected her to know of the army's defeat, a secret he had tried hard to conceal from everyone. But there were no secrets that he could conceal from her.
"You had them beaten, Sen Dunsidan. You had them scattered and disheartened, and you let them drive your pursuit force into the ground. In all the years I served in the Federation army, I never heard of such stupidity. How could you let something like that happen?" "Enough, Shadea. You have had your fun with me. Now let it alone. 1 intend to rectify matters on the Prekkendorran within a few days. When I am finished, the entire Free-born army will be in tatters, and my armies will be deep within their homelands."
"If I decide to let you do so." She kept Sen Dunsidan's eyes locked on her own, chained by the steel of her gaze. "I am not certain now that I should."
She saw the rage in those eyes, his hatred for her burning in them. She did not look away. The silence between them lengthened.
"You presume a great deal, Shadea," Iridia Eleri said suddenly.
Her voice was as cold as winter midnight and empty of feeling. Shadea was taken aback in spite of herself. Something about Iridia Eleri was not right. Something about her was changed, something deep and abiding, invisible to the eye, but there all the same.
She broke eye contact with Sen Dunsidan and glanced over. "It worries me that I may have allied myself and my order's cause with fools. I will presume what I must to remedy such a mistake." She studied Iridia a moment longer, then turned back to Sen Dunsidan. "Tell me, Prime Minister-must I do so here?"
Sen Dunsidan sighed. "I don't want you for an enemy, Shadea. You must know that. I need the Druid order to give its blessing to my efforts. I need to know you will not interfere with my plans. Surely you can see this?"
Shadea walked over to the wine pitcher, poured herself a glass, and drank deeply. She watched Iridia casually as she did so, trying to read something of what it was about her that was so troubling. It was in her eyes, she thought. It was in the way she looked out at the world. The problem was there.
"You need me," she said, "but not enough to tell me of your plans until after they are executed."
"I have kept nothing back from you that you couldn't find out on your own, it seems."
"Your attack on the Elven fleet, your destruction of their army, your own army's subsequent setback, your alliance with Iridia-what other secrets do you keep from me?"
He sighed. "What secrets do you think I keep, Shadea?"
"I haven't heard any mention of your new weapon, the one that so effectively destroyed the Elven fleet.
An oversight?"
The Prime Minister shrugged. "It is a fire launcher, a pressure feed that sends burning liquid from a nozzle mounted on our airships into others, setting them aflame. A conventional weapon, good over short distances when properly manned. It is hardly worth mentioning."
What a pathetic liar,Shadea thought. "Which must be why you failed to mention it. Or is there something about it I might find objectionable? A forbidden use of magic, perhaps?"
"Magic?" Sen Dunsidan laughed. "Where would I get magic? Oh, you think Iridia might have given me something from the Druid storehouse, do you? Wouldn't that be useful! But, no, the weapon was developed long before Iridia appeared with her offer of support. She brings nothing of her Druid lore orof Druid magic to our relationship. Nothing that isn't her own, anyway. There is no betrayal of the Druids involved in the building of this weapon, Shadea. What are you worried about? The power of the Druids is more than a match for anything I have at my command. I have only my armies and my airships."
It was difficult to judge how deep the lie went, but it went sufficiently deep that Shadea was certain the weapon was much more powerful than he was suggesting and that he intended it for more than simple warfare. At some point, he would seek to use it against the Druids, because in his heart he could never be at rest until he had destroyed everyone who might threaten him. That was the demon that had driven him since he had begun his ascent to power all those years ago. It was a demon with which she had a fair amount of personal experience.
"Your plan," she said, "is to use this weapon against the remaining Free-born ground forces on the Prekkendorran? On the Dwarves and Bordermen?"
He nodded. "And on the remnants of the Elves who ambushed my pursuit force. The Free-born have nothing with which to combat it. The best they have been able to do is damage the airship that transports it, and that was a fluke." He sipped at his wine. "The war on the Prekkendorran is over, Shadea, the moment my airship returns to the skies. All I require to proceed is your clear support for my efforts. For the Federation's efforts," he corrected.
She walked over to the window, brushing past Iridia Eleri as if she weren't there, but feeling something so dark and empty as she did so that she wished she had avoided the sorceress entirely. Pausing at the window, she shuddered a moment in spite of herself. Whatever had happened to Iridia wasn't anything for the better.
She looked out at the city, considering her options, giving herself sufficient space and time to choose wisely. She made several decisions in that moment, but she spoke only of one.
She turned back to Sen Dunsidan. "The Druid order will support your efforts, Prime Minister. I will announce that support on my return to Paranor. But there are two conditions. First, you will speak before the Coalition Council tomorrow in support of my ascendancy to the position of Ard Rhys. You will make your support complete and unequivocal. No half measures, no politician's word games. Second, you will fly to Paranor within the week to speak before the Druid order so that all may hear your justification for the invasion of the other lands. You are good at explanations, Sen Dunsidan. You should be able to come up with one."
The Federation leader studied her, thinking through the ramifications of accepting her offer, as she knew he would, then nodded. "Agreed."
She walked back across the room, her eyes never leaving his, coming to a stop when she reached him.
"A final word. Do not even think about trying to use your new weapon against me. Your hunger for power is vast, Sen Dunsidan, so I know the thought has crossed your mind. Control the Druids, and you control the Four Lands. But you lack the skill and the experience to manage such a task-even with your new ally to advise you."
She glanced at Iridia. "She is good at what she does, and once she was great. But she is only one person and nowhere near strong enough to challenge me. So keep a tight rein on your ambitions and do not forget your place in the pecking order. The Druids wield the real power in the Four Lands, just as they always have."
She looked back at him, waiting for his response. "I won't forget," he said quietly. "I won't forgetanything."
He was making a thinly veiled threat, but she would allow that. A threat was only words until it was backed up by something more substantial than anything Sen Dunsidan could command.
She moved close to him, placing herself squarely between Iridia and himself. "Watch your back, Sen Dunsidan," she whispered.
Then she strode from the room without looking at either of them again and made her way through the halls of the compound buildings to board her airship and fly home.
"She is too dangerous," Sen Dunsidan declared, once she was gone. He faced Iridia Eleri in challenge.
"Too dangerous for either of us. You would not argue the point, would you?"
She floated across the room into the darkness from which she had come and sat down again, cloaked in shadows. "I wouldn't worry about Shadea a'Ru, Sen Dunsidan."