“Saving his life has consequences, Conlan – we can’t just abandon him. Duncan’s not well enough to look after himself and we can’t travel with him, so we’re going to have to wait.”
“How long?” Conlan asked.
Will shrugged. “A month, maybe less.”
Conlan’s frown deepened. “That’s too long; we will reach the southern savannah in the middle of the rainy season and we’ll have to deal with storms and floods. We’d be taking a big risk.”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Will said, glancing at Duncan. There was a heavy silence, broken by Freddie.
“So, we know where we’re going, but what about the rest of it? The poem makes it sound like we are going to have to give them something to get into the nomads’ land, a ‘gift beyond measure’ – what does that mean?” Flashes of her dream pulsed through Eleanor’s head and she answered Freddie’s question before she realised what she was saying.
“When you give your heart to someone, you give them a gift beyond measure.”
There was an uncomfortable silence while Will, Amelia and Freddie looked at Conlan, but his attention was solely on Eleanor, watching the painful emotions that she knew were marching across her face. She winced as she felt rips forming in her haphazardly stuck-together heart.
“So we have to give them a heart. Does that mean literally?” Amelia asked with a shudder. Glad that somebody had the common sense to talk over the atmosphere she could cut with a knife, Eleanor shook her head.
“I don’t think its literal, Amelia. The people who wrote the book wouldn’t want us to have to die to get the Talismans – kind of defeats the purpose.”
“OK, so we have no idea what that means, but how about the last bit, ‘think to the future, a deal to be made’?” Freddie asked, purposely missing the third line of the poem. They were all surprised when Conlan answered.
“I think this is about making them our allies. If the People of the Horse still exist, I think we’re meant to get them to fight with us,” he said.
“I agree, whoever wrote the book wanted to help us. I kind of messed up the green fish guys,” Eleanor said.
“Kluthta,” Will interrupted. Eleanor looked at him blankly.
Will smiled. “The green fish guys. They call themselves the Kluthta.”
“Oh, OK,” Eleanor continued. “I messed up with the Kluthta, so we should make every effort to get the People of the Horse onside.”
“Will, you never did tell us the full story with the Kluthta,” Freddie said, looking at Will expectantly.
Will shrugged. “Not that much to tell, really. The one who copied my memories was a priestess. They’re a xenophobic race, so even if we hadn’t fought them, we’d still have found it very difficult to make them our allies. Plus they are primarily water creatures, so land battles would have been out for them and the Lords of Mydren don’t have a navy. They communicate telepathically and have very strong mental powers, many magnitudes stronger than mine, but they were unable to match with your brain waves. Perhaps in the future we could make contact again – trading with them could be beneficial.”
“Not that helpful then,” Freddie said, shrugging. Eleanor noticed the strange look on Amelia’s face and wondered whether she thought Will was hiding something.
Should I ask him?
Amelia remained silent; if she did not feel the urge to push, it might be better to leave it for the moment. Eleanor made a mental note to ask Will about it the next time they were alone.
Thoughtful silence descended.
“It’s late, I’m tired,” Eleanor said eventually. Getting up she stretched and wandered over to the shelter where Duncan was already snoring. Wrapping her blanket around her she curled into a ball and for the first time in a very long time was immersed in deep, restful sleep.
Time seemed to slow to the point where Eleanor was convinced it was actually moving backwards. They filled their time as best they could. Freddie cleaned and sharpened every weapon he could get his hands on, and he even restored Duncan’s blade to its former glory. Conlan became absorbed in the book Eleanor had bought him. Will and Amelia just seemed to be absorbed in each other. Now Duncan could be left on his own they would disappear for entire days, coming back rather wet and blissfully happy.
As the time inched past, Eleanor caught herself flashing glances at Duncan, wishing he would hurry up and get better, as she wanted to be off. She knew the others were unconsciously doing the same thing, although Conlan was quite consciously glaring at the man. It did not take long for Duncan to notice.
“Why is everybody suddenly giving me funny looks?” he asked when Eleanor brought him breakfast. The rain had eased off a little, and Will and Amelia had disappeared early, saying they would be back late, so Eleanor was providing meal services. She smiled apologetically but gave him the truth.
“We need to leave here as soon as possible, and we cannot do that until you are well.”
“I am fine, I can cope on my own,” he said, struggling to sit and wincing at the pain the movement caused. He looked sheepishly at Eleanor’s raised eyebrow. “Well, almost…” he admitted. He looked at Eleanor for a moment and then took her hand. “You have done more than enough for me, far more than I deserve in fact, so if you need to go, you should go.”
“The effort Will has expended keeping you alive would be wasted if we left you now, so we are going to wait,” Eleanor said, smiling. Duncan smiled gratefully back and nodded his head slightly. Eleanor left him to eat in peace. Seeing the menacing glare Conlan was giving Duncan from where he was sat by the fire, she went and sat down next to him. He did not take his eyes off the injured man, who thankfully was eating his breakfast obliviously.
“He’s said he’s sorry. Actually, he’s said it quite a few times now and I’ve forgiven him.”
“I should have just finished him... I wanted to, I made a mistake,” Conlan muttered, not looking at her. Eleanor cringed; she knew this callous disregard for life was not really Conlan.
Why is he behaving this way
–
is he that desperate to leave?
“Conlan, saving someone’s life is never a mistake. Duncan could be a good man, if he tried, and maybe he will after this. It’s far better we change him than kill him,” Eleanor said.
“You are far too forgiving.”
Eleanor shrugged. “You, of all people, should be grateful for that.”
Conlan glanced at her, with another mystery expression. “What if we haven’t changed him?” he countered, his dark gaze returning to Duncan.
“And who are we to judge?” Eleanor asked, worried about where the conversation was leading. “I executed Jarrick. I judged him and found him unfit to continue breathing, so I took his life. I had no right to make that decision, nobody does – even kings shouldn’t have the sole power of life and death over their subjects.”
“The man who wrote the book you gave me is of the same opinion,” Conlan said thoughtfully.
“Forgive him, Conlan, give Duncan another chance. He made a choice on the side of right, so let him know that it means something to someone else. Maybe then other people’s lives will mean more to him,” Eleanor said quietly.
She had not really expected her words to make an impact, as Conlan had been glaring at the man for weeks now, so she was shocked when he nodded, stood up and walked over to the shelter and sat down next to Duncan. Anxiety clawing at her insides, but not being able to hear what he was saying, Eleanor watched intently. At first Duncan looked terrified, pulling himself painfully away from Conlan until his back was pressed against the shelter wall, but as Conlan spoke quietly to him, he relaxed slightly. His face serious, Duncan responded. Eleanor wondered what Conlan was saying to the poor man. The conversation moved back and forth. Eleanor could not see Conlan’s face but his body was relaxed, and slowly Duncan relaxed too, he even smiled occasionally. Transfixed by the sight before her, Eleanor did not notice Freddie sat next to her until he spoke.
“Is Duncan going to need rescuing?”
Glancing at him, Eleanor shook her head. “No, strangely, I think it’s OK.” She smiled, enjoying the burst of happiness Conlan’s actions had unexpectedly exploded within her.
Much to Conlan’s relief, Will finally agreed that Duncan, who could now stand and walk about if he was slow and careful, was fit enough to be left to fend for himself. Will had advised him to stay in the shelter for a while longer, until he felt rested enough to venture further afield. They had left him with food, water, blankets and a mountainous pile of firewood. As they had said their goodbyes, Freddie had returned Duncan’s sword to him with some reluctance, as it was a beautiful weapon now that it had been polished and sharpened. Duncan had stared at it for a long time, gently pulling the blade from its lacquered wooden scabbard to admire it. Then with a snap he pushed the blade back and handed it to Will.
“This sword used to belong to my grandfather,” he said. “He was an honourable man. I was never worthy of it and it became tarnished and damaged in my possession. The tarnish and damage are gone and you have done the same for my soul. I no longer need a sword, but you do, so have this with my grateful thanks.” Will smiled at the man and took the sword from him. Duncan nodded and then slowly approached Eleanor where she stood next to Horse. “I have something for you, too,” he said quietly. Confused, Eleanor stared. Duncan looked at her, his face solemn. “I know you practice magic, Eleanor. Your secret is safe with me, I promise. I know you think you caused the earthquake in Nethrus. You have accepted my apologies, but you have never asked for what I know you want; you have never asked for forgiveness, so I offer it to you now. The people of Nethrus? If you had anything to do with that, I am sure it was an accident. I experienced that earthquake and watched friends die, but I forgive you – on behalf of all the dead and wounded of Nethrus, I forgive you. If my forgiveness gives you one moment of peace, one moment of happiness, then I give your friends the gift of your smile.” It was such a profoundly sweet and innocent notion that Eleanor was stunned. She knew that Duncan could not really absolve her of her crimes against the people of Nethrus, but hearing someone say she was forgiven was a deeply cathartic experience. Layers of grief, pain, self-loathing and guilt, already loosened by Conlan’s forgiveness, fell away and she had a feeling of being so light she could fly. She knew that tears were running down her face, but she was also smiling, her heart filling with gratitude for this man. Duncan watched her with a wide, honest, pleased-with-himself grin on his face.
“Thank you, Duncan,” Eleanor said between sobs and still smiling at him, her heart healing a little with every tear. Happiness flowing within, Eleanor unthinkingly pushed energy strings deep into the earth, wanting to share her joy. Her energy surged through the soil, denied so long this simple pleasure. The earth enveloped her, supported her and pulled her deeper. She eased her energy and delight into the world around her and let earth’s energy flood through her soul.
It was Amelia’s short intake of breath that brought Eleanor back to reality.
“Wow,” Freddie breathed.
Pulling her energy back, wiping her tears Eleanor gasped as she looking around her. The clearing was alive with plant life; a thick, bright-green carpet of grass had grown up on what they had trampled down to mud during their stay. A profusion of multi-coloured flowers were visible in the grass – vibrant, velvety petals delicate in the cold wind and totally out of place in the grey autumn. The trees that enclosed the clearing had grown fresh leaves, and buds on their branches had begun to blossom, as if it was suddenly spring again. It was beautiful and it was impossible.
“Oops,” Eleanor whispered, looking at Duncan’s astonished face. He was so surprised that he totally ignored Conlan when he came to stand next to him.
“You are a goddess, I attacked a goddess,” Duncan said, sounding utterly horrified.
“No, she is not a goddess, but it is a common misconception,” Conlan told him, sounding amused. Noticing Conlan, Duncan glanced at him and then immediately turned back to stare open-mouthed at Eleanor.
“Then what is she? She did this… How did she do this? When you said she caused the earthquake in Nethrus, I did not think you meant literally… such power in such a tiny, delicate… What
is
she?” Duncan looked totally bewildered, frightened even. Putting his arm round Duncan’s shoulder, Conlan led the man away, talking to him in quiet tones that Eleanor could not hear; every so often, Duncan would turn to look at her, eyes wide.
“I guess Duncan helped,” Will said.
Eleanor nodded and smiled; it felt as if it was the first time she had done so in months.
Will smiled. “Then I’m glad he lived.”
Eleanor held Will’s gaze. “Thank you.”
Will shrugged. “It was mostly luck.”
“No, it was copious amounts of time, patience and skill. Duncan is grateful and so am I,” Eleanor said, not satisfied until Will grudgingly accepted her praise. Freddie moved to her side, wrapping his arms around her.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he whispered, using his low voice as an excuse to lean in to her, his lips grazing her cheek. It made her feel uncomfortable, but she resisted the urge to shove him back. She had no right to treat him that way, especially as she had encouraged this behaviour by relying on him. Since Conlan had rejected her there had been several times when he had been close, too close, looking at her in a way that felt more than friendly.
I used him, and that’s going to have consequences.
Leaving Freddie as a problem she would have to deal with later, Eleanor forced her body to relax into his arms and smiled at him. His black eyes gazed lovingly back and Eleanor felt a small stone of dread drop to the bottom of her stomach.