Outcaste, p.35
Outcaste, page 35
part #1 of Alterra Undiscovered Realms Series
“There are those who have told of their desire to return to the old ways,” said Ethan. “Vakil, Kron…they were both trusted by the People, and yet they spoke quite loudly in favor of reuniting with Wrothgar. Vakil was proven to be a traitor. Perhaps we should look first at the other dissenters.”
“Kron died a hero's death defending the People,” snarled Koreth, who was Kron's nephew.
“Just because Kron found himself on the wrong end of an Ulca-blade does not make him a hero,” snapped Ethan. This was followed by a loud, angry buzzing in every ear.
Ethan was leaning forward in his seat, his arms tensed as if for a fight, glaring at Koreth.
(I find it odd that Koth, who was also of your clan, was foremost among the traitors! Perhaps we should be examining your family more closely.)
(How dare you accuse my family! Kron was a dissenter, but he never betrayed our laws. He was a hero no matter what you say!)
Koreth and Ethan had now risen to their feet. Gaelen was alarmed, for she could understand their unspoken conflict. Apparently, so could Duinar.
“Wait a moment, my good People,” he said. “There must be no unfounded accusations here!” He flared up with white light as he spoke, breaking the Outcastes’ concentration, and the angry buzzing ceased. “I'm sorry to have to do that,” said Duinar in a firm but gentle voice, “but I had to get your attention.”
Gaelen had gotten to her feet as well. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but do you really think that the place to begin searching for traitors is among those who have declared their opinions for all to hear? Traitors are not honest, are they? A real traitor would pretend to be a staunch defender of enlightenment, even as he plotted to undermine it. He'll be in the last place you look!” She sat back down, shaking her head and muttering. “One might as well have expected them to be wearing signs, or to have ‘turncoat’ branded on their foreheads.”
Ethan looked away, chagrined. “I regret my unspoken outburst,” he said. Koreth was still insulted, and he did not apologize for it. He did sit back down, however.
“Our People are encouraged to speak their minds freely, as long as they do not act against the will of the majority,” said Errno. “Yet they can never betray the People to the Enemy, on pain of death. Those who favor returning to Wrothgar are not allowed to do so, lest they betray us from afar. If you are born among the People, you must die as one of them. The only way to effect a return to Darkness is to persuade the majority.”
“Why would anyone be deluded enough to desire a return to Darkness?” asked Airan, the Elven-lord of Tal-sithian.
“They believe that Darkness is their security,” said Gaelen. “Ulcas only do what they are told, and they never need think for themselves. They do not have to trouble their minds with independence, nor with the difficulties of conscience. There is no concept of “right”, and therefore there is no guilt. For many, that is an appealing notion.”
There was dead silence in the chamber for a moment, as almost every non-Outcaste wondered how Gaelen could have such insight. She looked around, her ears reddening a little, and spread her hands. “Well, that's how it was explained to me.”
“I believe I might know where Gaelen acquired that explanation, which was actually very well-stated,” said Fima. “Here is the written record of the Outcastes, set down by their lore-master, a man named Danté.” He drew forth the weathered grey volume with a flourish. “If you study it as I have, you will see that Errno and Gaelen are right. The one Outcaste law which overrides all others is that no Outcaste shall betray another Outcaste to the Enemy. Such a law would spring only from the threat of sedition and, in a society where the members are free to speak their minds with no reprisal, it would be quite necessary.”
“Ah! So, my lore-master has been withholding vital manuscripts from me?” said Ordath. “Please bring that to me, Fima, so that I may study it also. Such information might be of great value to this Council.”
At that moment, a loud, gurgling rumble was heard from Rook's midsection, eliciting raised eyebrows from every Elf in the room. Rook was not mortified in the least, and Ordath smiled at him. “Our guests have reminded us that it might be time for some food and drink,” she said. “We shall need our strength, for there is a long debate ahead. Please remain here while I summon refreshments, but feel free to move about the chamber.” Then, at the last, she turned back to Fima. “The manuscript, if you please!”
Everyone rose and stretched, thankful for the chance to relax. Ethan and Koreth held a brief conversation in the corner, whereupon Koreth bowed, apparently satisfied with Ethan's apology.
The food arrived, and it was superb. The Outcastes, in particular, had never been treated to such variety, and they approached the table with interest until Errno and Ordath intervened. “These dishes here…they are for you,” said Ordath, indicating an ample offering set on a side table. “It is best that you avoid the others.” The chieftains looked puzzled until Errno explained.
“The Lady is watching over us,” he said. “Our food was not prepared by Elves, who often use ingredients which are upsetting to our constitutions. Besides, the Dwarvish kitchen-master of Mountain-home is amazing! Let's enjoy what he has made for us.” He strode to the table, picked up a plate, and heaped food upon it. The other chieftains followed his example, as did the Dwarves in the party who, after all, had to be supportive of their kitchen-master.
Gaelen watched them with some amusement as they ate together. Rook, Ethan, Vahan, and Koreth imitated Errno's every move, despite longing to cast cutlery aside in favor of shoving their faces directly into the mounds of food on their plates. Fima cocked an eyebrow at them. “Errno has spent too much time around Elves, you know,” he whispered to Gowen, picking up a fine bit of roasted lamb with his fingers. “Better to just be ourselves for now, or else we might go hungry!” Fima could see that the Outcastes were having some difficulty dealing with the delicate forks and slender knives—far more food was falling to the floor than was getting into their mouths. They looked gratefully over at the Dwarf , who was eating with his fingers and thinking nothing of it, and abandoned the pretense of table manners, falling to with enthusiasm.
Outcaste digestive processes do not favor polite after-dinner conversation. Much of the ensuing debate was punctuated by gaseous eructation, some loud, some barely audible. What was not apparent to the ear was still very apparent to certain other senses, regrettably. If one has ever been in a closed room with several elderly dogs, one has a fair idea. Except for Errno, none of the chieftains appeared to notice.
“My, isn't it getting warm in here?” said Nelwyn, mindful of Errno's feelings. “I believe we might all benefit from opening these shutters.”
“I think it might be a good time for a brief respite,” said Ordath.
“Indeed,” said Gaelen. “Might we take some air and stretch our legs for a little while?” She looked meaningfully at Lady Ordath. There is something I must share with you…
“Very well,” said Ordath. “The Council will reconvene in one half-hour.” She rose to her feet and moved silently from the Council-chamber, her dark indigo robe trailing behind her. After a few moments, Gaelen followed her.
“I need to reveal something to you, and I would leave it to you to inform the others,” said Gaelen. Something interesting happened when I was on my way to rejoin the Company…someone in the Outcaste group was attempting to reply to ‘unheard’ messages from the traitor, Koth. I could not understand the messages, but I definitely perceived them. Someone in the main group was in communication with the traitor.”
Ordath sighed. “We know there are still traitors among the Outcastes, Gaelen, though your information is interesting, and I thank you for revealing it. Why did you not tell everyone when you gave your accounting of your encounter with Koth?”
“Because I’m not sure the Outcastes realize how easily I pick up messages that are not intended for me, and as long as they are unaware of it, we have an advantage we dare not lose.”
Ordath smiled at her. “Indeed, we do! Very well, then; I shall likewise keep this to myself for now. Please do feel free to share any unintended messages you receive, though, won’t you?” She paused for a moment. “It’s curious that you have such an ability, Gaelen. Perhaps it’s due to your bond with the Elfhunter? At any rate, it’s nearly time to return to the Council.”
“Yes, I was thinking the same thing,” said Gaelen, but she had already begun to suspect that her prior bond with Gorgon Elfhunter wasn’t the only thing at work.
The Chamber of Lady Ordath's Council was aflame with passionate debate until the following morning. If only certain of the Outcastes wanted to be free of Darkness, and the others wanted to return to it, how would a plan to aid them ever succeed? How could they be told one from the other?
“We’re as shocked as any of you at the behavior of those we had thought loyal,” said Rook. “I did not believe the treachery of Vakil…despite overwhelming evidence. Sometimes I still do not believe it! Why would anyone wish to give up all that we have fought for—all we have gained—to fall back into the pit?”
“We don't know how many were actually lost or wounded during the battle at the hands of those they thought were friends,” said Errno. “Hallagond and Azori, and who knows how many others? It's a miracle we weren’t all taken down.”
“Yet I saw much of heroism in you,” said Duinar. “When the time came for sacrifices, you made them. You did not turn on your friends in the end.”
“Vakil was guilty of the worst sort of treachery, yet his brother Vathos displayed outstanding courage, and died in the defense of the People,” said Ethan.
Duinar blew a long sigh through his fine, silver beard. “If only we could tell which was which before the next battle begins!”
“This was certainly more than any of us bargained for,” muttered Galador. “A simple investigation thrust us right into the midst of war—a war where we could not even tell enemies from allies!”
“Yet that turned out to be a good thing in the end,” said Duinar, “for the People were tested. We saw what they are made of. Our decision should be easier now.”
“The People were tested,” said Rogond. “We nearly paid a terrible price for that test, only to find that it was incomplete. We still have treachery to deal with.” Gaelen placed a hand on his arm–it was not like him to hold a grudge. He looked down at her and whispered, “You were not there…you did not almost choke to death for lack of air, nor watch your brother nearly gasp his last.”
“Thank heavens the Company was there to fight beside them,” said Nelwyn. “The People would never have prevailed otherwise. I believe it is our destiny to aid them—if it were not, they would simply have faded away before we even knew of them. Now their fate is in our hands.” Everyone was silent for a few moments. Nelwyn had just voiced an inescapable truth.
“I am uneasy at the thought of traitors roaming Mountain-home,” said Astor. “How, then, shall we ferret them out?”
Rogond put his lingering resentment aside, as he could not afford it. He rose, addressing Duinar. “Master, as I watched you attempting to heal the wounded Outcastes, I noticed that only certain of them could bear your touch. Some appeared to be both pained and terrified. Could such things be connected with…with loyalty? I mean, I expect that the closer one has remained to an Ulca, the more unpleasant the touch of an Asarla. Could we ascertain their loyalties that way?”
“It’s a pity that all known traitors are dead,” muttered Hearndin. “We might have tested this theory on them.”
“I do not believe that is the case,” said Duinar. “Fear of Elves and Asari does not necessarily prove disloyalty to the People. In their eyes, we have a lot to answer for.”
“Someone knows who the traitors are,” whispered Gaelen. “Traitors do not act without others to rally to their cause. Someone knows…
I don’t know who it is yet, and I dare not speak of it in front of any Outcaste, but I’ve been picking up more of these…unintended messages. Once I know a little more, I believe I can put a piece of the puzzle into place… Her eyes grew wide for a moment, as one of those “unintended messages” had come to her once again. She looked around at the Chieftains. Their expressions are unchanged…I cannot tell which of them is receiving the message, but is has to be one of them!
(Speak to us unheard!)
(Why did you intrude upon my thoughts? I thought I told you to eliminate Errno and the Fire-eye, and you have done neither. Instead you call out to me while I am at Council, and that was most unwise—they have been discussing what to do with us. I must not be seen with either of you!)
(We did try to eliminate the Fire-eye. She was delayed, and we waited in ambush for many days. Finally, we gave it up. She must have crept in unnoticed—it will be very difficult to stalk her.)
(Excuses will not safeguard those loyal to Lord Wrothgar. Kill her, or kill Errno, I don't care which of them you take first, but remember: Errno must appear to have been killed by a Fire-eye, and the Fire-eye must appear to have been killed by one of the People. The Council will then deem the People unworthy of aid. The People will be disheartened and angered by the death of Errno, and they will be reminded who our true enemies are. They will then have no choice but to return to the Dark Tower.)
(But what if the Fire-eyes decide to exterminate us? They will no doubt become angry if we kill one of them.)
(Because that is what we would do, and they think they are “better” than we are. I expect they will simply drive us out…straight into the arms of Darkness. I understand that the Fire-eye will be difficult to kill while the Council goes on, but you must take Errno at least. His death will tear the People apart—he holds the clans united. This whole enterprise was his idea, and we must now show everyone how foolish it is. Beings of Light cannot be trusted—they are our enemies. They hate us, and we must hate them in return. Now is the time to nurture that discord and distrust. We shall not speak again until the Council ends. I must return to it tomorrow, for I will be missed. But do not ever call to me here again. The Fire-eye might hear you!)
(She cannot hear me. My thoughts are cast only to you.)
(Must I remind you of the consequences if anyone should hear you?)
(What if we fail?)
(You will not fail.)
The Council had disbanded for the evening, and Gaelen had made her way down to the stables to visit Eros and Toran. She was weary of meetings and debates, as everything seemed pretty clear to her uncomplicated nature. The Outcastes should be led forth in an effort to find a homeland, a place where they could live in peace and govern their own affairs. She knew that the traitors were still bound to the old way—to Wrothgar's way. The farther they drew from the Shadowmancer, the more uncomfortable they would become. They would either reveal themselves or fall away and slink back to their Master. It was a shame that they could not simply be allowed to leave, but no one was willing to risk another like Koth.
Gaelen had never wanted to start a journey so much, and at the same time she dreaded the start of this one. The Outcastes would need to be led very far away indeed, and no one really knew what lands lay on the other side of the Stone Desert. Perhaps there was no land at all! Not only that, but she knew that certain of her friends would not be traveling with her.
Twenty years had passed since the death of Gorgon Elfhunter, and Gaelen was ready for a new adventure, but she had not bargained for anything of this magnitude. There were advantages to doing nothing extraordinary. Yet it seemed that, once again, her fate was entwined with that of another. In this case, it was Errno. There were things Gaelen had not shared with the Council, but she would now share them with him. He needed to understand the depth and breadth of the trouble they were in. While in Council, she had received an unintended message—at least bits of it—involving one of the chieftains. Something about “nurturing discord,” and the consequences of failure. But failure to do what, exactly? She had also detected a clear threat to Errno. I need to confide in him and warn him before we face the rest of the Council. Once everyone knows, it will be more difficult to get “inside information.” She drew forth Shandor’s amulet, though she did not unwrap it. “You are the reason I was able to hear that long-distance message to Koth, and it’s you that’s been heightening my sensitivity to these ‘unintended messages.’ Perhaps if I share your power with Errno, he will be able to find out who the traitor is.”
“One of the chieftains is a traitor? Are you certain?”
“I can hear the Outcaste thoughts sometimes, even when they are not intended for me.”
Errno was most distressed to hear Gaelen's revelation, and he began pacing and circling, crouching over and hunching his shoulders, occasionally placing the knuckles of his right hand on the floor. This was his reaction to very bad news that he could not escape from. Finally he stopped moving about, though he still shifted from one foot to the other as he stood before her.
“I suppose the evidence is clear,” he said. “But you have no notion of where the thoughts came from, or to whom they were sent?”
Gaelen shook her head. “I'm afraid not. By the time I realized what I was hearing, and the implications of it, it was too late to tell anything. Besides, I am not all that adept at reading Outcaste facial expressions.”
“There are five chieftains,” said Errno. “You certainly cannot accuse us all.”
“Well, you are not a traitor. I am certain of that, at least. I would not have believed it of any of them, though I do not know Vahan or Koreth very well. I know I have placed a lot of trust in Ethan and Rook. This is ill news.”
Errno approached Gaelen and laid his gloved hands on her shoulders. “You are a small one,” he said. “Is it not a wondrous turn of fate that you were the only one of the Company lithe enough to follow me into the stronghold to begin with? You, who are so sensitive to our thoughts—that turn of fate will allow us to guard against the traitors now. Had it not been for the Elfhunter, those thoughts would have been closed to you. Things happen for a reason, Gaelen Taldin.”
