Elvenblood (48 page)

By then, Lady Viridina was able to move under her own power, although her face was still white with shock and her eyes resembled a pair of holes burned into her face. Shana led the way to the open gate—opened by patrolling guards who had seen the flaming tower and had pounded past the two escapees without a second glance. She had no idea how to find Mero, but this was the only way out that she could see, and by far the easiest.

But she didn't have to stagger around the walls of the estate to find Mero; he found them, galloping up with two horses in tow just as they reached the outside. Without a single word, he helped Lady Viridina into a saddle and tied her there in case she should suddenly collapse, since it looked as if she might do that at any moment, as Rena clambered into her own saddle, hindered by the skirts of her ridiculous gown.

"Lorryn's meeting us on the way," Mero said shortly. ."Your timing couldn't have been better; the real mess is just about to begin. Let's get out of here before someone figures out we aren't supposed to be here."

Rena looked back at the burning tower, now a single impossible column of flame reaching into the sky. A portent of things to come?

She felt numb, her thoughts moving slowly, as if they were making their way through thick mud.

I’ll
be hysterical in a while
, she realized, somewhere in the back of her mind where there was still an atom of rational thought.
Mother will be, too. We'd better be far away when that happens
.

And as he read her thoughts, Mero nodded. He turned his horse's head, and spurred it into a canter. Lady Viridina's, with the lead-rope still tied to the back of his saddle, followed with a jerk of its head.

Rena looked back one more time, shuddered convulsively, and followed both of them.

Lorryn had lost all control of his emotions by now, and his heart and mind were in as much turmoil as the land around them. Shortly after he had met up with Mero, Rena, and his mother, the countryside literally erupted all around them. He had known, intellectually, what his revolt might mean—

But it had not occurred to him what it would look like. He had galloped through madness, through scenes out of a High Lord's worst nightmares. There were armies of humans wearing bits of iron around their necks and wielding farm implements at all comers; there were armies of mixed humans led by young elves, manning the walls of besieged estates while small groups of older elves rained terrible magics down on the walls and anyone not protected by iron. There were tiny groups of human fighters, grimly protecting loot, huddled masses of slave-women—or, once, a single elderly elven woman with the look of eagles and the gentle hand of a nurturer, who wore one of his necklaces about her neck.
She
recognized them for what they were, and more, she knew Viridina on sight, and called out to them before they could pass her by.

"Boy!" she shouted, waving a restraining hand at her warriors. "You must be Viridina's—follow us, we're beating the bounds, and we'll be at my lady-keep in a trice."

By then they were all so weary, and Lorryn was so sick with worry for his mother, who had fallen into a stupor, that he would have accepted help from Jamal himself. Over Mero's objections, he did follow, and they led him to a cleverly concealed keep of the oldest sort, the kind that was proof against just about any form of siege.

She brought them in, she saw Viridina into a bed and them to a meal, and while her humans guarded and watched them warily, she got all of their tale out of them. Even out of Mero, who was not proof against her charm or her motherly manner.

"Hmm!" she said when they were finished. "My husband was a brute, my son's a beast, and my daughter got me one of these little trinkets of yours—" she caressed the necklace with one finger "—to keep me safe from his machinations. He wasn't content with having
most
, he wanted
all
, even this little corner of the world that was left to me. I got my boys here their own little amulets when I saw what they would do, and we all settled down to wait for what I knew was coming."

"You knew?" Mero said. "But how? We were very careful—"

She laughed. "When you are my age and you came from Evelon, boy, you have seen enough to be able to guess a great deal from a few signs. I never held with slaves, and I treated the human friends I had like the people they are, didn't I, boys?"

One of her great, grim guards crackled a smile, and put an armored paw gently on her shoulder. "That you did, little mother," he said comfortably. "Would that more were like you."

She sighed. "Well, I often said it would come to fire and the sword again, and so it has. I
think
my son is dead; my daughter and her overseer held the manor when last I heard, and those slaves that haven't run off are helping them hold it."

"That's most, little mother," said another of the guards. "You taught her well."

"Ah, well, I tried." She sighed again. "How this is all going to fall out, I don't know. I heard the army sent to kill the wizards has mostly run back home to join whatever part of the fighting suits them best They're full of tales of dragons and black men, and you can tell me if those are moonshine and madness, or truth."

Mero cleared his throat. "They're truth, as near as we can tell you. We don't know what's happening with the wizards, either; it's been too hard to send a message—

He stopped, and she laughed, that peculiar, brittle laugh of hers. "I know; I know the human magics, boy. I know why you can't thought-talk now. It happened when we first came over; the more chaos, the more thoughts in the air, the harder it is for yours to get through, even with power behind it."

"Ah." Mero seemed at a loss for words. The old lady looked them all over sharply.

"Sleep in a bed tonight, boy," she told him, and turned to Lorryn. "All of you bide overnight; you're weary enough to drop, you're about to founder your horses, and you're all sad and sorry and sick of heart. Leave Viridina here with me; I'll care for her and bring her out of this. I knew her mother, and her as a girl, and if any can give her heart's ease, I think it will be me. If any can protect her, I think it will be me and mine."

Now
Lorryn recognized her: Lady Morthena, "Lady Moth" as he had called her as a child. She had been one of his mother's most frequent visitors, and always had hours of scandalous stories to tell. He had never guessed this side of her. Perhaps she had hidden it beneath the guise of the scandal-mongering old lady on purpose.

His mother had never let him say a word against her, though. Now he thought he knew why.

He looked at Rena, who nodded slightly. "Please," he said, putting all of his fear for his mother and her sanity into the word. Lady Moth nodded, as if she understood.

'To bed with you all, and get on with your journey in the morning," she said only, and shooed them off to beds as if they had been children out of the nursery. And as if they had been children, they all obeyed her, even Mero.

The next morning she met them at the door, as her guards brought them their rested horses, with saddlebags of provisions. 'Travel safely, but travel swiftly," she told them. "When the storms are over, come to me again and tell me what has happened. I think your mother will be glad to see you."

Then she smiled, and for a brief flash of enchantment, Lorryn saw what she must have been like when she was Rena's age, and her elders opened the Gate from Evelon. "And bring me some of your young wizards," she added. "I'll tell them some history, and they can show me wonders and bring me scandal."

"Scandal, Lady Moth?" Mero said, as easy with her now as Lorryn and Rena were.

She laughed. "There will
always
be scandal, boy. Maybe you and my little Sheyrena here will make some, hmm?" And as Rena blushed and Lorryn managed a smile, she waved them off. "Hurry up, now; my boys tell me there's a looting party on the road, and I don't want you to meet it You might hurt them."

The last they saw of her was her hand, waving at them from the top of the wall around her sturdy little keep.

Two days later, and they were at the edge of the iron-seeded territory—Keman had told them about that, before he flew off with all the iron bits they could spare at the time—and Lorryn was as tight as a bowstring with tension, wondering what kind of reception they were going to get.

And what had happened to Shana through all this.

But he was not expecting to be hailed quite so soon.

"
Hold
!" cried out a voice, and a score of human archers stepped across their path, iron torques around their necks, and a wizard leading them. The wizard stared at them—he was an old one, and Lorryn looked to Mero, who shook his head, meaning that
he
did not recognize the old man either.

This looked bad. It looked as if Shana had won the war only to lose to Caellach Gwain. Lorryn clenched his fists in mingled fear and rage, and his horse danced as the reins tightened.

"You and you," the wizard said coldly, "are welcome. But
that
—" his tone made the word a curse as he pointed at Rena "—is of elven blood!"

Mero bristled, and Lorryn reached for a sword he didn't have.

"Of
course
she is, you twit!" shouted an acidic, weary voice that made Lorryn's heart leap. "Where do you think halfbloods come from, a cabbage patch?"

And Shana brushed the wizard and the archers aside.

"Fire and Rain, I thought you'd
never
make it back!" she said, "But—" She looked them over and obviously came up one short, and paled. "Oh, Lorryn, your mother—

"Is fine," he assured her. "Well—maybe not fine, but we left her in good hands, and Lady Moth says she'll be fine and—"

He was babbling, and he knew it, and so did she. She held up her hands and he cut the stream of words off. "Easy. We'll get to it all in time. Right now—let's get you all away from here before some idiot war party shows up and tries to kill the wizards again."

She turned away from them and the archers parted to let them through—and Lorryn's heart sank to his boots.

All of this time he had been afraid of what would happen if she lost—to the elves, or to the divisions within her own ranks. Now—

Now what do I do? She's won. She doesn't need me, she doesn't need anyone
—

Black despair washed over him; in all this time he had not once been tempted to weep, and now his throat choked with tears; his chest constricted until he couldn't breath, and he picked up the poor horse's reins to send him bolting away, far away—he lagged behind them all for a moment, so that he could slip away without them noticing. In a moment they would be around the bend in the road ahead and he could escape—think—figure out what to do with his life since she didn't need him in hers—

:Lorryn
—:

The single, weary word in his mind froze him in his saddle.

:Ah, Lorryn, I
—
I
can "t tell you
—:

She couldn't tell him, but he felt it—that she had been as worried sick about him as he was about her, amid all the troubles and the turmoil
she
had faced. She had fretted about him, stared at the ceiling at night in sleepless concern over him—

Just as he had, over her.

.-Thank goodness you're here
,: she said at last, as she sensed what was in his heart too. .
I
—
I
missed you. And Fire and Rain know I need you
.:

Then, Shana-like, the sentimental turned to practical between one breath and the next

:And dammit, I need your help, too! You're the one who was trained to lead people, not me! I can't handle all these impossible idiots without you
—
look what happened with Caellach-Bean-Brained-Gwain! If you'd been with me, he'd
never
have given me the grief he did
!:

Despair turned to joy, and to a kind of infuriated hilarity. But of course she was going to infuriate him—that was why she delighted him.

And why, he gathered from her amused thoughts, he delighted her.

:-Well
?: she asked.
:Are you coming to help me with this pack of fools before I kill them all out of frustration
?:

Gathering his reins up, he turned his horse's head back up the path to help her do just that.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

FOR OVER FIFTY years, Andre Norton, "one of the most distinguished living SF and fantasy writers"
(Booklist)
, has been penning best-selling novels that have earned her a unique place in the hearts and minds of readers. She has been honored with a Life Achievement Award by the World Fantasy Convention, and her numerous science-fiction and fantasy novels have garnered her millions of devoted readers across the globe. Works set in her fabled Witch World, as well as others, such as
The Elvenbane
(with Mercedes Lackey) and
Black Trillium
(with Marion Zimmer Bradley and Julian May), have made her "one of the most popular authors of our time"
(Publishers Weekly)
. She lives in Winter Park, Florida.

Mercedes Lackey has enjoyed best-selling success with her many fantasy works, including her much-acclaimed adventures set in the fabled world of Valdemar. While much of her work lies in epic fantasy, she has enjoyed successful forays into dark fantasy, with her Diana Tregarde books, and contemporary fantasy, which includes her recently published
Sacred Ground
. She is one of the most popular fantasy authors on the scene today. She lives with her husband, artist and author Larry Dixon, in Tulsa, Oklahoma.