Orb and arrow, p.28
Orb and Arrow, page 28
She straightened and wiped her eyes. “Who needs aid?” Her voice was husky, but she walked toward the wounded who had been directed to sit together. Ǣlfa drink had helped many recover from lesser wounds. Now she took up the orb again, concentrating on dispelling pain, knitting up broken and smashed limbs, soothing and healing burns. Despite his poorer healing skill, Elden was able to help by cleansing wounds and soothing others. The ǣlfe who now lacked an arm, thanked her and his friend for saving his life, leaving Brillar in tears once again. Ǣlfa wafers were passed to everyone, water and ǣlfa drink from flasks. Some of the ǣlfec gathered firewood, an acknowledgment that they would have to stay there. Elden brought a kettle from his foldbox and Brillar added water to herbs for a strong healing tea with honey that was shared around to the injured, then to anyone who wanted it. Tea was brewed again and again through the afternoon and into the night. Cold ǣlfa brew was stimulating but the hot tea seemed to soothe.
Most of the ǣlfec had never been to war. Now they gathered in small groups near the fire, talking in low voices, sometimes joined by elders who gave them words of comfort. Groups shifted and re-formed. Those who had been injured early in the battle wanted to be told what had been seen and done. Sleep took some early; others didn’t sleep until near dawn. Sometime in the night, Ǣdhahren stirred and cried out. Brillar was at his side quickly, to find that he had been given a sip from a flask and a piece of wafer. He looked at her curiously, then leaned against Uthalef and slept.
“What he needs most now,” Uthalef told her quietly as he held the boy, “is ǣlfa food and drink and the comfort of his own people. I’ve sent a Summoner to our home. They’ll send runners for him. But first, he needs rest.” He sat back, cradling the boy in his arms, and began to sing quietly. Brillar sat down next to him, finding Elden at her side; she wrapped herself in her cloak and lay her head on his leg. Around them, ǣlfec voices joined Uthalef’s song, weaving a gentle web. She fell asleep and had quiet dreams.
In the morning, Elden was gone, but there was a blanket under her head and another over her. She stood and shook herself awake, then took a sip from the ǣlfa flask and smiled. The fire still lit the dawn sky, but now she could smell roasting meat and remembered that she had eaten nothing the day before but elvish bread.
“There was some meat still in my foldbox,” Elden greeted her with meat roasted on a skewer, “and a mage can be handy in a hunt.” The lines of his face, the set of his jaw told her the battle had taken its toll on him.
“Handy indeed,” said Wa’olle, joining. “Three fine young stags appeared before we had gone a quarter-mile. And he spotted them with far-sense. Completely unfair.” She nodded agreement.
“No one else seems to object,” Elden put in, laughing. “Food is like medicine for the sick and injured as I recall.”
“Injured!” Brillar moved toward the injured, still pulling meat from the skewer. She found most of the minor injuries healed. Even the large acid burns were doing well and pain relief was all that was needed. The broken limbs had been splinted after she drew the bones together. Pain relief was needed there too. The smashed arm would take more time to heal. She searched the break and surrounding tissue well to make sure the arm would be useful.
“Healer,” one asked, “that Dark spell? The one that took Farendai?”
“Elden told me the wights had spells unknown to the Brotherhood. Once that Dark spell struck, it grew in his flesh, creeping up, eating him away.” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Even a small injury would grow into a mortal wound.”
He nodded and turned away.
That morning, they were joined by three more ǣlfen and then four in the afternoon. All dropped exhausted by the fire and slept at once. They had run without rest for several days. Brillar looked at them and sent healing spells over their legs and feet as they slept.
Elden called in more animals to keep the group fed. Elven bread was sustaining but the supply was nearly depleted. Wa’olle, who always joined him, kept up joking complaints about the unfairness of the hunt; they seemed to cheer him as much as they cheered the others.
Ǣdhahren stayed close to Uthalef, taking food and drink only from him. Whenever she was near him, Brillar sent out waves of soothing and was rewarded with small smiles.
The next day was spent in quiet conversations. Sometimes as someone passed near her, she would hear a whispered, “Healer.” She turned at the first few, puzzled, then simply nodded when she heard the word. She and Elden had some time together quietly as she tried to process the battle for Ǣdhahren.
“The woman who held him, she said she would call wights? How could she do that?” Her question, spoken quietly enough, brought several ǣlfec closer to hear the answer.
Recognizing their curiosity, Elden replied more loudly, “Ah, yes, the woman with Ǣdhahren.” He waited as they were joined by more ǣlfec and he waited, drawing signs in the dirt with a stick.
“What can call wights?” asked an ǣlfe, impatient to hear the answer.
“You know about the K’ish, makers of Dark potions. There are other evil masters in the realms of magic, and things not taught in the Houses of the Four Powers. It’s said the K’ish may predate the Brotherhood, but I’ve also heard about the Savic, women who sometimes practice the Dark arts. At first, I thought they were just tales. It’s said that they are known for their power to communicate with the dead and that most are harmless, living by offering to help grieving families contact someone who has died so that the family can know that the loved one is at peace. There are many imitators, women who claim to be able to make that contact only to collect money and move on. True Savic are said to be rare. Savic who practice the Dark arts are said to be rarer still. How a K’ish and a Savic met and joined together, I can only guess. It may have been his potions that bound her to him.”
“And she could call the wights?” came a question.
“She could speak to the dead so, yes, she probably called the wights and the other undead. They may have been bound to serve her, or she may have promised something for their service. What that could be, I can’t even guess. There are legends that say the undead wish only true death; to sink into the ground one last time and become dust. These things are beyond my knowing.” Ǣlfec moved off to share what they had heard with others.
When the conversation reached Uthalef, he left Ǣdhahren with another ǣlfe and joined them. “I have also heard of the Savic,” he told them quietly, “but a long time ago, and the stories are true.”
“How long?” Brillar had wanted to know his true age. Grey eyes turned to her, taking her in. Brillar blushed and dropped her head. “My apologies,” she said quietly.
Suddenly, Uthalef laughed. “Curiosity is natural in one so young. Five hundred years and more it was when I first heard of the Savic.” She kept her head down, still blushing.
“I was on a sea voyage, for at that time, many of my people went to sea. We were low on fresh water and there was an island nearby, but the sailors refused to land, saying there was evil there. A woman called a Savic, they said, had been marooned there for her dark deeds. If a ship came too close, the sailors would hear singing, dive over the side and try to swim toward the song. Sailors say that anyone who could get to land was enslaved or killed. How long she had been there, no one knew or could say. For all I know, she could have been dead for a long time or she could have had a store of potions to extend her life. In truth, Elden seems to know more about them than I do, even if he only heard stories.” He hurried back to his charge.
“Someday,” Elden said quietly, “your curiosity will get you into trouble.”
Brillar burst out laughing so hard, she couldn’t speak. Around them, heads turned to stare. Laughter poured from her and she gasped for breath, pointing at him as he gaped at her.
When she could catch her breath, she gasped. “What more trouble is there?” she asked and dissolved into more laughter. When she was able to breathe properly, she shook her head at him. Waving a hand, she asked again, quietly, soberly, “What more trouble is there?”
*** 25 ***
That night around the fire, Uthalef stood and everyone fell silent. “Ǣdhahren is well enough to travel. In the morning, we’ll fix slings for those who are unable to walk and a basket chair for him. It is time for all of us, all,” and he looked at Brillar and Elden, “to go Home.” He sat down to cheers.
The next morning bustled with activity. Meat for the journey, slings and a chair made, and long branches cut for them, Ǣlfec were assigned to carry the burdens in relays. Only two hours after dawn, everything was ready. A sure path for Ǣlfainhome was taken from Uthalef’s belt pouch and sent upwards and the group moved out to the southeast.
“We could,” Elden had told her quietly the night before, “leave them now, continue our travels?”
“And miss the opportunity to see Ǣlfainhome?”
She was answered, as she knew she would be, by his chuckle. “Few are invited as we have been. No, that will be something to see and something for tales around many a hearth.”
The ǣlfain pace was slow, for although they were used to going lightly, there were the injured and those who needed to be carried. Brillar stayed close to those with injuries, making sure that healing bones were not shaken too badly by the journey. Elden was often out with a hunting party, coming back with deer and gwinth. Herbal tea with honey had become something of a favorite at night and the supply of honey dwindled quickly.
Elden solved that problem, using far-sight to find a beehive as the group went through a field of flowers sprung up where several streams ran together. It was the ǣlfec who, one told him, ‘sang the bees to sleep’ and took several combs. Elden watched from a safe distance, not sure he could trust their ‘singing.’ Still, it was effective, and bits of comb were passed around with most of the honey saved for the tea. Water was no trouble for them as they moved; streams were everywhere, flowing from the mountains.
In the second afternoon, there was a joyful meeting. Runners from Ǣlfainhome met them and were greeted with enthusiasm. They carried ǣlfa brews, breads, dried fruits, herbs, and nuts which were shared with everyone. If they were surprised to see two humans in the company, they said nothing. There was a joyous reunion for Ǣdhahren as his brother, Oubren, was among the runners. Ǣdhahren was scooped up and tossed into the air to much laughter before he could be quieted so his brother could go into discussion with Uthalef; then, he sought out Brillar and Elden.
The pair was sitting by a stream, bare toes dangling in the water. When he approached, they scrambled to their feet.
“You are well met,” he greeted them with a bow. “Many thanks for your help in rescuing my brother. I will see you again at Ǣlfainhome.” With another bow, he turned and went back to the company getting ready to take his brother home at once.
They looked at each other in puzzlement. “A quick greeting,” Elden remarked and they sat down, feet once again in the cool water. As they watched, four of the ǣlfec, Oubren, with Ǣdhahren in a pack on his back, set off at a run toward Ǣlfainhome. Their rest was brief; all were ready for home now.
That night, Uthalef stood once again at the fire. “In the morning, we collect as much water as we can carry. We soon reach the low dunes where there is no water.”
Brillar and Elden opened foldboxes in the morning, storing water in flasks. Whenever the foldboxes were opened, they collected a small crowd.
Finally, it was too much, and Wa’olle asked, “How can you carry so much weight? So much… everything.”
Elden smiled at the question. “These boxes are magic-made and take months or years in the making, with Item magic. I hold a First in Item, but the making of these is a much more specialized skill. Actually, I have never completely understood what goes into their making. Where the weight goes, for example, I am unable to explain. Where the space goes was explained, but I’m not sure that I understand it. Brillar?”
“My mother also holds a First, but she was helped and guided when she made my foldbox and never explained it.”
The ǣlfec waited patiently.
“Well, then,” Elden began, stifling a sigh, “what we see is in three forms. The line, the flat and the height.” He drew the first two on the ground then added an upright stick for the last. “These are what we can see. For a mage, there are other things we can’t see. Mana has an unseen form, for example. It’s everywhere, always being made. A mage can feel and gather it, store it, use it for spells. The foldbox finds other forms, other spaces that we can’t see and puts our belongings there. Wherever the belongings are, perhaps the full weight is with them. The one I carry would be a little heavier if I added rocks to it, but it would still be easy to carry.” Seeing puzzled looks, he smiled again. “As I said, I don’t truly understand it, either.”
Uthalef came over to the group. “We’re ready now.” All the ‘students’ disbursed to their places and the group started out at a quick pace. Wa’olle came up alongside them with a smile. “I am to tell Uthalef when you tire, and we will stop.” Both resolved to continue with spells to strengthen and replenish and to take sips of ǣlfa brew when needed.
As they traveled, grass began to thin and streams disappeared. First, the country took on the look of northern scrubland, dry and harsh; then they began to encounter dusty sandy soil that puffed up around their feet, then true sand. Vegetation grew in short tufts then vanished. Ahead of them, was a small rise consisting entirely of sand. The wind blew it toward them, making their eyes water. At the top of the first dune, greater dunes spread out in front of them. Then the heat struck them in full force, making them gasp. Wa’olle shouted in Ǣlfair and they all stopped. The ǣlfec had already wrapped cloths around their faces and provided extra for Elden and Brillar, showing them how they should be fastened.
“Wear the cloaks you were given,” Wa’olle advised. “They will protect you from the heat as our clothing protects us. We all need to drink plenty of water or we will fall ill.”
The cloaks were protection, cooling them, where before, they had been warming.
“Ǣlfa weave is a mystery to me,” Elden remarked, but Brillar just nodded. He sent a spell for strength to her and could feel her welcome it. There were more spells before the ǣlfec stopped.
“Are you well?” Uthalef asked them as they ate and drank, and they nodded. He looked around at the dunes. “We are anxious to return home. We often cross this expanse only at night, and we will begin again after we have eaten, to take advantage of the coolness. Can you be ready?”
“We can,” Elden answered for both. As Uthalef left them, he cast waves of strength and replenishment at both of them.
Then Brillar cast healing and pain relief at their sore legs and feet after saying, “Mine are on fire.” Finished, she went to check on the injured and the ǣlfec who carried the slings.
A brief rest, then Uthalef sent the sure path home aloft and they set out. The dunes were difficult to navigate. Ǣlfain went lightly, but human feet tended to sink into the sand. Twice, Brillar slid down a dune, laughing at the bottom. “Much easier than walking,” she said as she brushed away sand. Elden was constantly sinking to his knees and being pulled out by Wa’olle. They were slowing the group, but there were only smiles for them from the ǣlfec.
Dawn found them still in the dunes and Uthalef pushed them onward. It was nearly noon when they slid down the last of the dunes and came to a flat, desolate expanse. A halt was called and the ǣlfec took jointed sticks from packs to make short shelters from the sun. Wa’olle and Yarell showed them how it was done, and they threw themselves onto the ground under one to sleep. When they woke, a fire had been started and they joined the assembled ǣlfec. Packed meat was roasting and Brillar and Elden were rewarded with the first of the cooked pieces, then dried fruit, nuts, breads and more ǣlfa brew. By the end of the meal, the pair were feeling as if they had been on a quiet walk in the forest.
After they finished, one of the ǣlfec began to sing softly and was joined by others. To Brillar, it sounded like a quiet wind in the trees and the splashing of bright water over rocks. When the song stopped, she shook herself to release the spell. Around her, the sun-shelters had been taken down and packs were being readied. She made a quick check of the injured, making sure that no one was in pain from the journey or the sun. She paid particular attention to the smashed arm and found that it was healing faster than she expected.
In the cool of the night, the group pushed on with a brief stop for sleep. In the morning, what had been a quiet gathering, was suddenly full of sound, ǣlfec voices in the ǣlfair tongue, bright and happy, laughing. She was pulled to her feet by Yarell, who insisted on brushing sand from her. “Today, we will be home,” he said joyfully. “Ǣlfainhome is ahead and only a few hours away.”
The day seemed brighter to everyone. The sure path was used but not really needed and they all stepped forward lightly. There was what seemed to be good-natured joking in ǣlfair all around the humans, with laughter and even some winks and pointing.
“What’s all this about?” Elden asked their companion.
“You will know when it happens,” Wa’olle said, and spoke in ǣlfair to those around them, too much laughter.
“It seems we will know when ‘it’ whatever it is, happens,” Brillar said, laughing with them.
Two hours later, as they finished climbing a small hill, Brillar and Elden stopped abruptly, to more ǣlfain laughter.
Ahead of them, down the hill and across a green meadow, were trees, titans among trees, colossi among trees. They gaped at them; trunks as wide as houses stretched toward the sky, each tree with branches as great as a forest. Flocks of birds were lost in them. They stretched upwards until their branches were lost in the clouds. Even from a distance, heads had to tilt backward to take them in. The pair stood still, agape in wonder, spellbound by the sight. Around them, there was more laughter.
