Book 1: Chapter Ten

Present day…

Corec and his companions followed the slow caravan as it made its way along the path to the border camp, surrounded by the giant elf trees. They’d reached the forest—the real forest—five days earlier, and Lors had given everyone the standard speech before they entered. They were allowed to hunt rabbits and bucks—male deer—but no more than three deer for the entire caravan. If they captured or killed any wild boars, the elves would pay them a bounty. They weren’t permitted to use traps that might harm something other than the intended prey, so Corec stowed his rabbit snares away. And while they could collect wood that had fallen, they weren’t allowed to cut down any of the trees without permission.

The trip through the forest had been peaceful so far, with no sign of anyone else. Corec had spent a few hours each day riding ahead with Melos and another guard he knew slightly, but most of the time, he stayed back with Katrin and Bobo. Sometimes, Bobo would be off somewhere, or run out of things to talk about, and Corec could have a quiet conversation with Katrin. While they hadn’t spoken of anything important, he thought she was less wary of him than she had been.

Late in the afternoon, there was a commotion ahead, rippling down the line, and the procession came to a halt earlier than Corec had expected. He stepped away from the trail to see around the wagons, and realized the cause—they’d come across an elven scouting party.

Corec decided to try speaking to one of the elves. Leaving Bobo to watch the animals, he and Katrin walked up to the front of the caravan. Lors was talking to the man who appeared to be the leader of the party, but there were several other scouts milling around.

Corec approached the nearest. “Do you speak trade tongue?”

“Little,” the man said, holding his hands a few inches apart.

“We hope to talk to someone about magic. Is there anyone like that in the camp?”

“Magic?” the man asked, then said a few words Corec didn’t understand. When he didn’t respond, the man said, “Shavala speaks. I find.”

The scout walked away to look for someone, and a few minutes later, a very short elf girl approached Corec.

Elves, on average, were shorter and more slender than humans, and this one was no exception. With her thin moccasins, she was less than five feet tall. She wore her hair short and loose, with the points of her ears sticking out. Like many of the wood elves, her hair was mottled with different colors of brown, appearing almost like tree bark, and she had the tan skin with a faint tinge of green that was common to her people. She wore a tight-fitting tunic and leggings, and Corec had to jerk his eyes away when he realized he was staring at the way the thin cloth draped against her chest. She carried an unstrung bow in one hand and wore a quiver on her back.

“I am Shavala,” the girl said.

“My name is Corec.”

She looked at him curiously. “Kivris said you have a question about magic?”

He drew Katrin to his side. “We do. This is Katrin. We were hoping there was someone we could ask about this rune.” He didn’t have to point it out, since the girl’s eyes were immediately drawn to the glowing blue mark. “I have one just like it on my arm.”

She stared at Katrin’s forehead for a moment. “I have not studied such a thing, but you can speak with Meritia. She’s at the camp. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

#

The next morning, after a few more hours of travel, the caravan reached the outpost.

Corec had always found the border camp to be odd. While there were tales of marvelous elven cities, the outpost resembled a cross between a human village and a long-term hunting camp. The eighty or so elves in the camp lived in plain but sturdy huts, and went about their lives much like the inhabitants of any small human village. In addition to marking the border, the camps were also used for training scouts, but even knowing those mundane reasons for its existence, the whole place seemed…unremarkable. Anyone coming to the forest in the hopes of seeing wondrous sights and elven magic would be sorely disappointed. But Corec had seen magic here once—subtle though it was.

He and Katrin followed Shavala to a hut on the far side of the camp. A woman stood outside, dressed much like Shavala in a tunic and leggings. The two spoke in a rapid burst of Elven.

The woman, presumably Meritia, looked them over and said, “Come in and we’ll talk.”

Inside the hut, Corec passed her the bag he’d purchased from the trader. “Thank you for being willing to speak to us. Please accept these hot peppers as a token of our appreciation.” He’d fallen back on the mannerisms and words he’d been taught growing up, and hoped there wasn’t some sort of elven tradition he was supposed to use instead.

Meritia hesitated for a moment before speaking. “You are welcome in my home. Thank you. We don’t see these here often.”

They introduced themselves and told her everything they knew about the runes.

Meritia was silent during much of the tale, asking only a few questions, but when they were done, she motioned Katrin over. “Come here, girl. Let me get a closer look.”

Katrin stood in front of the elf woman, who examined the rune and then ran her fingers over it. “Yes, definitely magic,” the woman said, before turning to Corec. “Now, let me see yours.”

“Oh,” he said, embarrassed as he looked around at the women in the hut. He couldn’t roll up the sleeves on the shirt he wore under his armor, so he’d have to take it off in front of them. He’d left his helmet and gauntlets back with his horse, but it took him several minutes to remove the vambraces, cuirass, chain shirt, padded doublet, and the shirt.

Shavala watched him while he removed the armor, and didn’t avert her gaze once he was bare-chested. Katrin glared at the girl, though Corec wasn’t sure why.

Meritia grabbed his arm, staring as intently at his rune as she had at Katrin’s.

“Hmm,” the woman said. “You both believe the itching started in that same village?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Corec said. “I didn’t think anything of it at first. But if it affected us both, it seems likely.”

“If you did nothing else to trigger it, I suspect it happened the moment you first met,” Meritia said.

“So you don’t think the itching is a coincidence?”

“No.”

“We didn’t really meet that first night, though,” Katrin put in. “We never spoke.”

Meritia waved her hand. “That’s of no consequence. Meet, or come in close contact, or see each other. Whatever the trigger, it would have required the two of you to be together.”

“Why?” Katrin asked.

“You know what it is?” Corec said.

“I believe it’s a binding sigil. It’s used to magically bind two people or two things together for one reason or another.”

“Bind us together?” Katrin asked, with a worried tone to her voice. “Why? What does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, then I doubt I can help with that question.”

“But how did it happen?” Corec asked.

Meritia held her hands out wide. “Who can say? Either someone did it when you met, or there was a trigger, as I mentioned.”

“Do you know how to remove it?”

“You’ve come to the wrong place for that,” the woman said. “The elder magic doesn’t concern itself with such things.”

“Elder magic?” Katrin asked.

Meritia looked at her curiously, as if not sure why she was asking the question. “Yes, elder magic.”

Katrin glanced at Corec, but he just shrugged. He didn’t know what the woman meant either.

“You know the four types of magic, yes?” Meritia asked.

Katrin shook her head.

“I know there are wizards and priests,” Corec said, “and I once saw someone here—you, I think—regrow some plants after one of our wagons ran off the trail.” His schooling in Larso had only rarely mentioned magic, and only as something to be avoided, except by the priests of Pallisur.

“Wizards and priests are merely users of magic,” Meritia said. “They are not the magic itself. As I said, there are four types—”

“Elder, arcane, divine, and demonic,” Shavala put in.

“Yes,” Meritia said. “My people look to the elder magic. We cannot help you.”

“Do you know anyone who can?” Katrin asked.

“Perhaps a human wizard? Or one of the nilvasta?”

“Nilvasta?” Katrin asked.

“Silver elves,” Corec said, then faced Meritia. “There are no wizards among your people?”

“A few, but they follow a different path, so they are unlikely to be of any help. In any case, they will not leave Terrillia and you would not be permitted into the city. Seek a human wizard.”

Corec sighed and looked at Katrin. “Tyrsall, then?”

“I can’t go there looking like this!” she said.

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“The tattoo story seems to be working.”

“Everybody looks at me funny!”

“What about a hat?”

She’d opened her mouth to speak, but stopped in surprise to consider that. “Maybe. I can’t think of any styles that would hide a spot that far down on my forehead, though.”

“You could wait outside the city and I’ll try to bring someone to you. Tyrsall’s the closest place I can think of where I’m sure we could find a wizard.”

It took a moment, but finally she nodded in agreement.

“What’s wrong with how you look?” Shavala asked.

“I can’t go into the city with a glowing tattoo on my head!”

“It’s small,” Shavala said. “It looks pretty.”

Katrin looked at the girl incredulously, but before she could reply, Meritia said, “You’re concerned about people seeing the sigil?”

“Yes!”

“Why not conceal it?”

“It’s too hot out to wear my cloak all the time, and I tried makeup but it didn’t work.”

“No,” the woman said, shaking her head. “I meant…I’m not sure trade tongue has a word for it. Veil? Shroud?”

“What do you mean?” Corec asked.

“Binding sigils are not usually malicious. I believe they can be hidden by the bearer.”

“How?” Katrin asked.

“I’ve never heard that mentioned. As I said, sigils are not a thing of the elder magic.”

Katrin frowned but nodded.

“Thank you, Meritia,” Corec said. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“You asked why it happened,” she said, looking at Katrin. “I can’t answer that, but you can be sure there’s a reason.”

Deciding the woman was done examining his rune, Corec put his clothing and armor back on. Shavala was still staring at him openly, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the attractive girl’s frank gaze. It had him so distracted, he didn’t pay any attention when his left arm started itching.

#

After the humans had left the hut, Shavala turned to Meritia. “Am I ready for my travels now?”

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“You ended my lessons months ago, and said I must start learning from experience.”

“And why do you wish to leave now? Are you planning to follow the humans?”

“They’re interesting.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t know why they’re interesting yet, which worries me. And if you’re after the boy, be careful. The girl isn’t as annoyed by him as much as she pretends, and humans can be funny about such things.”

“I’m not after the boy!”

Meritia raised an elegant eyebrow. “You were certainly staring at him enough.”

“His muscles were…nice,” Shavala admitted. He’d been more well defined than the elven men she’d tried out, mostly friends of Ellisan. Never Ellisan himself, of course—they’d grown up together, and she couldn’t view him that way.

“Human men do have a rather unfair advantage there. Some of them, at least. Are you leaving now?”

“After I pack. I will follow them for a bit before I decide whether to travel with them. Perhaps I will go my own way. But I would like to see Tyrsall, and the sea.”

Meritia nodded. “Before you go, I’ve got something for you.” She opened the door to her finely carved wardrobe and rummaged around, returning with a small bag.

“I already have a belt pouch,” Shavala said.

“This is a coin pouch, with human money. Hide this one inside your tunic or your pack, so it can’t be stolen. Remember what I told you about pick-pockets?”

Shavala nodded, and decided to hide her own belt pouch, too. She didn’t want anyone to steal her shiny stones, the little carving she’d made of Lele, or her sister-in-law’s friendship bracelet.

Meritia poured out the coins in her hands. “Do you remember what these all are?”

Shavala poked through them, counting. “Copper coins, those are worth the least. Then comes silver, and then gold.” There were eighteen of the copper pieces, ten of the silver, and two gold. She held up one last coin. “What’s this one?”

“That’s platinum. It’s worth four of the gold. Don’t let anyone know you’re carrying it, or you’ll be a target even if you keep it hidden.”

“Are so many humans thieves?”

“No, only a few. But the rest like to gossip.”

Shavala nodded. “Ellisan is on patrol. Will you let him know I’ve left?”

“Of course. How long do you think you’ll be away?”

“I don’t know. Until I get bored?” A druid apprentice’s travels—the last step before being named a full druid—took as long as the apprentice felt was needed, but the other druids would disapprove of anything less than six months.

Meritia smiled. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Shavala took her leave and returned to her own hut. She found her travel pack under her bed and started picking out things to bring with her. She folded up two changes of clothing, then added the new pair of moccasins she’d made, so she’d have them when her current pair wore out.

With a regretful glance at her human-style winter coat, she left it in the wardrobe. It was too hot out to wear it now, and it would take up all the space in her small pack by itself if she tried to stuff it in there. When the weather changed, she’d have to buy another one.

She put both of the belt pouches in her pack, though she’d need to figure out a better solution soon. Meritia had suggested under her tunic, but the thin cloth wouldn’t disguise anything hidden beneath it. Perhaps she could buy some clothing with more pockets.

Next, she found her empty waterskin and tied it to the side of the pack, then scratched absently at a spot on the center of her forehead that had started itching. She added her unstrung bow to the pile, then her quiver, and checked to make sure her bracer and extra strings were in the side pouch. The quiver had room enough for a dozen arrows, and after thinking about it, she took only the ones with the metal tips. If a flint or obsidian arrowhead broke while she was traveling, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find the material to knap a replacement.

Thinking further, she packed her small bag of arrowheads, both stone and metal, and grabbed a dozen arrow shafts she’d already prepared. The shafts wouldn’t fit inside the pack, but she bundled them up and tied them on the side opposite the waterskin. She found the fletching feathers she’d gathered and her small jar of fletching glue and added those as well.

She packed the food next, bundling up the travel bars Meritia had taught her to make—nuts and fruit pressed with honey—as well as the last of the dried fruit and meat she still had left over from the winter. She could hunt if she needed to, and now that it was summer, she’d be able to forage enough to live off the land. At least, she thought she’d be able to forage. Meritia had told her what to look for outside the forest, but it would be the first time she tried it for herself.

She added a brush and comb, soap, and some other personal items, and that was enough to fill up the pack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she picked up her bow and quiver and left the hut.

Outside, Lele jumped down off the roof and took his customary spot on her shoulder. Shavala felt a sudden pang of regret. Lele was getting on in years, and in any case, he wouldn’t do well if he left his home. Squirrels weren’t meant for traveling long distances.

“No, Lele, you must stay here. Stay with Meritia.”

He cocked his head to look at her, not understanding.

Meritia had come out of her hut, so Shavala pointed to her. “Stay with Meritia. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Lele chittered and ran down Shavala’s arm, leaping off to run over and stand by the other woman.

Shavala waved to them both, then headed to the stream to fill her waterskin before walking over to watch the caravan as it prepared to leave. To her surprise, she found her quarry getting ready to head out on their own. She sat nearby to listen.

“Thanks for letting us come along, Lors,” Corec said. “We need to get to Tyrsall, though, and we can’t wait for the wagons. It’d be different if you had a spot open for a guard…”

“Sorry—I’ve already used up my budget,” the man called Lors said. “You sure you don’t want to stay until we get back to the West Road? You won’t be all that much faster than us until then.”

“Fast enough to make a difference.” Corec looked at the robed man Shavala had seen him walking with that morning. “Bobo, if you want to stay with them, we can leave you enough food to get back to the West Road.”

“I’d rather return with you, if you don’t mind.”

Corec looked annoyed, but nodded his assent. “Then let’s get moving. Katrin’s got the animals ready to go.”

As the three humans headed down the trail, Shavala shadowed them from the trees, deciding to make a game of seeing how close she could get without them realizing it.

#

“Do we really need all of this?” Ellerie asked, looking at the second list of supplies Boktar had written up, to add to everything they’d already purchased. “How are we going to carry it all?”

They were walking back after a fruitless attempt to find work on a caravan headed east. Matagor did most of its trading north to Larso or south to Terevas, and none of the eastbound caravans in the next week had any openings for guards.

“Donkeys,” Boktar said, as they left one of the main streets through town and turned down a quieter side street that would lead them back to their boarding house. They’d taken temporary lodgings there after leaving the duke’s service, since they’d had to give up their small rooms in the ducal palace.

“Donkeys?”

“They’re cheaper than horses or mules, easier to feed than horses, and they’re smart. Two of them should carry as much as we need.”

“What about us?”

“Well, you’re small enough you could probably ride a donkey if you wanted to.”

“I’m not riding a donkey!” She would look ridiculous, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

He just laughed. “I suppose I could help you look at horses tomorrow. If you want my help, Your Royal Highness.”

She shook her head in annoyance. “The proper term is Exalted…and if you use it, I’ll cut off the left half of your beard while you sleep.” Boktar still thought she was making a mistake in not returning to Terevas—and taking him with her as the head of her personal guard.

“Why only half?”

“Because then you’ll be forced to cut off the other half yourself if you want to even it up.”

He laughed again, but didn’t appear to take her threat seriously. “Do you want my help or not?”

She sighed. “Yes. Thank you.” While she knew how to ride, she didn’t know much else about horses. “But you’re sure we need all of this?”

“Maybe not need, but trust me, I’ve been on the road a lot. You don’t want to live on hardtack and trail rations alone. Having some fresh food along is always good.”

“All right, but why the rope?” she asked as they turned left into the narrow alley that led to the boarding house. The buildings on both sides were close together and two or three stories tall, so they blocked the sun, covering everything in shadows.

“You always need rope,” he said. “Even if you don’t know why yet.”

Just then, a man ran out of an alcove to the right and swung a club toward Boktar’s head. Boktar wasn’t wearing his helmet in the city, but got his shield up in time to block the swing. He unslung his warhammer from his belt, but before he could use it, another man joined the first. Boktar ended up using both his shield and hammer to defend himself, not leaving him any chance to attack.

Ellerie drew her rapier and prepared a spell to help him, but before she could cast it, she saw a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned just in time to dodge as a third man came from behind and tried to hit her in the back with a cudgel.

When he missed, he drew the weapon back in a two-handed grip and prepared to strike at her again. Her slender rapier wouldn’t be able to parry it, so when he swung, she stepped lightly out of the way, then thrust forward to stab him through the gut. He stared down in confusion at the bloodstain spreading out on his shirt. The reach of the rapier sometimes surprised opponents who weren’t accustomed to fighting against a thrusting sword.

His wound might kill him eventually, but it wouldn’t necessarily stop him from continuing to fight in the meantime, so she quickly stabbed him twice more. She hit his heart the second time, and he finally dropped to his knees. Hoping he was out of the fight, she spun back toward Boktar, who was still holding off the other two men but hadn’t been able to make any headway against them.

Whispering words of power, she flung her hand out toward the one on the left. Three darts of bright light burst from her fingers and shot toward him, hitting him in the chest. The man doubled over in pain, dropping his club, and Boktar slammed his shield into his face, knocking him to the ground. With just one of the attackers left, it only took Boktar another moment to finish him off, breaking the man’s arm, then crushing his chest in with his warhammer.

Wanting to make sure none of the attackers got to their feet again, Ellerie stabbed the last two through the heart, and stabbed her own opponent again for good measure. She searched the bodies while Boktar stood guard at the entrance to the alley, making sure nobody had seen anything.

“Do you think the duke sent them?” she asked as she finished with the first man, finding only a coin pouch.

“You’ve spent too much time in Terevas,” Boktar said. “Lorvis is a decent man. He wasn’t angry that we quit, just annoyed—probably because finding a female bodyguard is a right pain, and he doesn’t trust his daughters around a man. These were probably just thieves.”

“If you say so,” she said. She knew she was probably more paranoid than she needed to be. Then she finished her search, and decided she wasn’t paranoid enough. “Look at this.” She’d poured out the three men’s coin pouches into her hands. Each of them had carried two gold coins bearing the image of Ellerie’s mother on the obverse.

Boktar came over and examined them. “That doesn’t mean anything, Elle. We’re right across the border. There are lots of Terevassian coins around.”

“And common thieves carrying gold in public? And the fact that each of them had exactly two?”

Boktar sighed. “Perhaps it would be a good idea if we didn’t stay in these rooms again. We should just grab our things and leave the city tonight. We can finish buying the rest of the supplies in the next town we hit.”

Ellerie nodded in agreement. If one of her people had ordered the hit, they could have just as easily paid in Matagorian coins to hide their origin. Either someone wanted her to think her people had sent the attackers, or one of the nilvasta had paid with the coins on purpose, knowing she’d find them if the attack failed. If that was the case, then whoever had hired the assassins had wanted to send a message—they wanted her to know they were coming after her.

Getting out of the city seemed like a good idea. She resolved to send letters to her mother and sister at the earliest opportunity, to warn them.