Chapter 19: Shadowblade: (A Dance of Fire and Shadow Book 1) – Chapter 19

of the now defunct Court of Samaran. You are advised to note my displeasure and not least my warning that failure to deliver on your promised actions will not be tolerated. You have five days to discover the whereabouts of all remaining Eldrin commanders and have them killed or brought to me in chains, along with the overdue delivery of members of the now disgraced Royal Family of Samaran.

Message from General Akadian on behalf of his Eminence the Emperor Ashur Purmut, First of his Dynasty, ruler of the known world.

.

.

I can hardly stay awake through supper, which is a pity because there is honey roast venison and baked vegetables with chestnuts and applesauce, a glorious feast compared to the trail rations we had on the journey here. Deris is propping me up from his place beside me and finally decides to heave me to my feet before I slide off the bench. It must be past time to get back to my lonely alcove in bat territory. He steers me out through the entrance of the living quarters for resident Eldrin.

We only get as far as the terrace outside the training cave before running into Marin. He is facing Jantian with an expression of grim determination.

“Jantian, everyone needs you. It would be a disaster if you were killed. I would do my best to take over but you know I don’t have enough experience yet. Please. You must allow me to lead this mission.”

I’m so taken aback by the sight of Marin attempting to defy whatever it is Jantian is planning, I stop and stare without a thought that I might be intruding on some kind of secret conversation. A heavily-armed woman is leaning against the rock wall, her evident exhaustion and travel-stained clothing marking her as the messenger who must have provoked this debate. Jantian glances at Deris and myself and steps back with a gesture of resignation.

“Marin, if you are going to keep bringing reinforcements until I give in, I may as well concede now. But you go with my conditions. Deris does the talking and keeps the Blade adept out of trouble while she protects him. You stay out of sight and scout with Lupine.” He sees Marin start to protest and raises a hand for silence.

“That is my last word. You may not yet be ready to take over full command of the Eldrin but you are a great deal closer to it than anyone else. You have to survive this.”

He looks very tired as he walks back into the cavern and for the first time I see beneath all the fierceness and discipline to just how deeply he cares for his people.

Marin slumps into his habitual spot perched on the low wall and waves the messenger to the tunnel entrance leading to the living quarters.

“Lania, get caught up on food and sleep and send Nem and Brac out here. We leave at first light.”

She smiles gratefully and heads off to the kitchen, her broad, muscular frame stooped with tiredness.

“What happened?” Curiosity has given me a partial respite from the creeping exhaustion, although I make a point of avoiding Marin’s airy perch and sit on the paved floor of the terrace. I’m not entirely sure if I can trust myself not to fall asleep in the next few minutes.

“Message we have been waiting for, from the team of Eldrin guarding the king. It wasn’t anything we had anticipated. Lania’s first hawk message confirmed that Tandarion had been taken to safety at Drystream Manor, protected by his Eldrin guard and the Samarian army. That was before she discovered that Farang was working with the invaders.” Marin’s brows are furrowed in concentration, running anxious fingers through the honey-brown tangle of his hair as he tries to think this through.

“If Lord Farang had planned to simply hand the king over to the Rapathians he would have done it straight away, before we discovered he had betrayed us. Now it seems he must be playing a double game––but we have no idea what it is. So when he suddenly insisted the king should be moved to a different location, Lania made the decision that it was probably safer to comply than try to fight and risk Tandarion getting killed in the crossfire.”

It feels all wrong to me. “But now she and the Eldrin know that Farang is a traitor, they could have taken the king somewhere that is safe from both the Usurper and Farang! They had the whole Samarian army to back them up!”

Marin shakes his head. “They didn’t have the army. That was the problem. Lania has been keeping her team focused on information-gathering. They discovered that the army has already been taken over by two commanders working with Farang, in league with the invaders. She decided that contacting the rest of us for help seemed the best plan. I think she did the right thing. But then Farang asked her to set up a meeting with Jantian. That’s why she came in person rather than relying on her hawk. She knew we would need to ask questions.”

“It has to be a trap!” I cannot believe any of them are going along with this insanity.

“Of course it’s a trap. But with the king at risk we can’t just ignore it. We have to find out what the Fang is up to and where the enemy’s weak spots are. We may even be able to turn this to our advantage.”

“Or get us all killed.”

He shrugs. “That too.” He frowns as he looks hard at me. “You heard Jantian designating you as bodyguard. Seems he has provisionally accepted that you mean no harm and your enhanced fight-skills could help us with this. Do you feel up to it after what happened today?”

I glance across at Deris. “So long as Deris can watch out and stop me killing the wrong people while he’s busy talking to the Fang at the same time.”

Deris just gives a careless grin. “Should be easy. I’ve had enough practice at it now. With you, anyhow.”

“But why––” I don’t finish the question, suddenly understanding why Deris has been chosen as the one to have this difficult conversation with the Fang. “Jantian is giving you permission to use your powers of Fae persuasion to find out what Farang is really up to?”

Deris’ expression becomes serious, almost apprehensive.

“I just hope I don’t let everyone down on this. All I had to do to stop you was to reach the part of you that already did not want to kill me or Trengar or any of us. Reaching the part of Farang’s mind that wants to stop betraying his country and help us… well, that could be a much longer search, and we probably won’t have much time for it.”

Marin suddenly looks sharply at me. “Ariel, get some sleep before you pass out right where you’re sitting. We’ll come up with a plan tonight and brief you in the morning.”

He hauls me back to my tiny alcove of human residence in the kingdom of bats where I collapse in a rather undignified heap on the pile of hay.

It doesn’t feel as if I have slept at all when I wake to the sound of voices in the courtyard outside. Pale grey light filters through the mouth of the cave. I heave myself out of bed with a groan. The bats haven’t even gone to sleep yet.

There is a neatly-folded pile of clothes on the ground beside me. Plain grey Eldrin livery with a new shirt of fine, lightweight chainmail. I pick it up with shaking hands. It means they are accepting me as one of their own at last? A critical voice at the back of my mind tells me I have to look the same as the others for this meeting with Farang, but I ignore it. They could have given me a regular army green and silver uniform instead.

Yet when I look at my leaf-camouflage Sylvani tunic I can’t quite bring myself to leave it behind. Maybe I still need it as a reminder of who I was before my life changed beyond recognition. The silk doesn’t take up much room so I stuff it into the slender pack strapped alongside my quiver.

Outside, the others have their own horses and Sahan already saddled and ready to leave. Lania waits with them, well recovered from her long ride yesterday, her blue eyes bright and alert and her long strawberry-blonde hair groomed and braided down her back.

Marin reaches for the black stallion’s reins. He pauses before mounting to give a soft whistle. A huge silver-grey wolf appears from the stable and bounds towards him, stops a few paces from me and crouches, hackles raised and canines gleaming in a snarl.

“Lupine, down.” Marin’s voice is quiet but compelling. The wolf lowers its head to the ground in a way that signals obedience although the rest of the body language is anything but submissive.

“She doesn’t like you wearing the skins of her relatives.” He points to the silver wolfskin cloak slung over my shoulders in the chill morning air.

I shiver, anticipating the worst. “Sorry. Do I have to leave it behind?”

“You’ll freeze if you do. She’ll have to get used to it until we get down from the mountains and the air is warmer.” Marin hands over my blades, giving me a warning look as I strap into the harness.

“You really needed a lot more time to train before using weapons again but this invasion won’t wait for that. Just remember not to let anger get control of your actions.” He offers me a thick wrist-guard and I tighten it on my arm as he waves Nem to come over to us. She is carrying a smoke-grey owl which she holds close enough for the bird to hop onto my leather-clad wrist.

Nem’s expression is unnervingly reminiscent of Lupine’s disapproval. I hope she has been told to get used to it as well. Marin waves the others to move off and waits patiently while I figure out how to avoid spooking Sahan by having an owl perched on my wrist.

I stand in front of the temperamental mare, gently stroking the owl’s dark feathers, hoping it is obvious that the bird doesn’t weigh enough to cause loading annoyance. To my relief, horse doesn’t appear to object to owl and owl doesn’t appear to object to me. Must be a first. I’m getting too used to the sort of reception I got from Lupine.

I swing onto Sahan’s back and catch up with Marin. We ride down the twisting trail together, Lupine loping ahead with an easy grace, nose to the wind.

“Marin, why are you bringing a huge wolf?”

“She can scout around the meeting place and scent an ambush far sooner than we could pick up any sign of one.” He holds up his arm as he speaks and his gyrfalcon circles and descends to land on his gloved fist.

I am fascinated by the hawk’s great golden eyes.

“Is it easy to send messages this way?”

“I’ll show you this evening when I teach you how to communicate with your owl. I wanted you and Nightwing to have a chance to get used to each other while you ride.”

“Why am I the only one with an owl?”

Marin glances briefly at the tightly-rolled message he took from the hawk’s leg and releases the bird again.

“Not quite the only one out of all the Eldrin. But I made a guess that with your skills you would probably be on more night patrols than most.”

It is true, my night vision is now better even than Deris’, but it sounds as if there are going to be a few other aspects to my role I might need to learn fairly soon. I can tell Marin is not going to give me any more information on Jantian’s plans just yet. He stares at my grey cloak.

“I’ve never seen wolfskin used like that before.”

I hesitate. My connection with this cloak is deeply personal and I feel reluctant to be more open with so many echoes of mistrust still hovering ghostlike between us. But… you have to start somewhere.

“It was a gift from my father. His last gift. He was a trader, joining the caravans of southern goods for exchange with gold and iron from the Northlands. Then he would trade the gold for silks from Annubia. One winter was unusually cold as they headed north. The Northland wolves were starving and they attacked the caravan.

“Sylvani only kill to defend themselves or for food, but he still felt it was wrong to take so many lives. Wolves are not good for eating unless you are really desperate. So he had the skins made into something to keep me from the cold that brought that wolf pack to its doom.”

“Why was it his last gift?”

“The following year the caravan was attacked by an alliance of three bandit groups. They were overrun. No survivors.”

“I’m sorry. I remember it.” Marin’s voice carries more than the usual standard condolences but it doesn’t make revisiting painful memories any easier.

“Hardly your fault. It was seven years ago. You couldn’t have been more than fourteen. I doubt even the great Marin al Valaran was Captain of the Eldrin back then.”

“No. I wasn’t. I was half trained, scouting the borderlands, learning to track, working with wolves and hawks. We knew about the bandit alliance but we were too slow discovering where they were. Until their first attack.”

“The one that killed my father?”

“Yes. Their first and last crime. We caught up with them the following day. Tracked them through the mountains into the Northlands. Five of us, all apprentices, none older than sixteen. We had no chance trying to fight almost a hundred experienced bandits. All we could do was to stay doggedly on their trail and send regular hawk-messages to guide the Eldrin patrols to them.”

“Your way of telling the story doesn’t sound like you feel it was much of a success.”

“I doubt if I will ever feel that way about my part in it. By the time the Eldrin patrols reached us all four of my friends were dead from starvation, cold, or bandit arrows. The warriors pulled three arrows out of me. Carried me back to Maratic more dead than alive. As soon as I was on my feet Jantian sent me out into the field again. Before I could lose my nerve I suppose.” Marin falls silent for a while, then rides ahead to catch up with Deris and the others.

It feels as if another door has opened into the world of the Eldrin. A harsh and unforgiving world that I have only seen in glimpses, like the tiny fragments of knowledge I gleaned about my father’s death.

Until that harsh world finally caught up with me the morning I stood looking at the destruction of my village. If Marin’s story reflects the level of risk these warriors consider normal, it is not going to be easy to fully prove myself to them. I have to find a useful, reliable role in the tasks they have already been given––and find a way to protect my sister as well.

There must be something that will convince them that we are both assets, not liabilities.