Douglas Niles - The Kinslayer Wars

Finally the hill giant gathered his wives together, cuffing and cursing them until he had their attention.

“I go away!” he said loudly.

The formalities completed, he hefted his club and started down the valley. Whatever the nature of the longing that drew him to the plains, he knew that he would find its source in an elf who had once been his friend.

The conference broke up in awkward farewells. Only Hermathya displayed emotion, screaming and rebuking Sithas for his decision to send Vanesti to the battlefield. The Speaker of the Stars coolly ignored his wife, and she collapsed into spasms of weeping. She desperately hugged the young elf, to his acute embarrassment, and then retired to her coach for the long journey back to Silvanost.

Few had noted Suzine’s departure late on the previous day. Kith-Kanan was puzzled by her leaving, though he assumed she had reason to return to Sithelbec. In truth, he was also a little relieved. The presence of his human wife put strain on any communication with Sithas, and Suzine’s absence had made the subdued farewell banquet a little easier to endure. Still, it was unlike her to depart so abruptly without advising him, so he couldn’t totally banish his concern. This concern mounted to genuine anxiety when, ten days later, they finally arrived at the fortress and learned that the general’s wife hadn’t been seen. Nor had she sent any message. He dispatched Windriders to comb the plains, seeking a sign of Suzine’s grand coach. However, true to Kith’s prediction, the spring storm season began early, and thunder-storms blanketed the grasslands with hail and torrential rains. Winds howled unchecked across hundreds of miles of prairie. The search became all but impossible and had to be suspended for all intents and purposes.

In the meantime, Kith-Kanan threw himself into the choreography of his great battle plan. The forces of the Wildrunners mustered at Sithelbec, preparing to march westward, where they would hit the human army before General Giarna even realized they had left the region of the fortress. Intelligence about the enemy was scarce and unreliable. Finally Kith called upon the only scout he could count on to make a thorough reconnaissance: Parnigar.

“Take two dozen riders and get as close as you can,” ordered Kith-Kanan, knowing full well that he was asking his old friend to place his life at grave risk. But he had no real alternative.

If the veteran resented the difficult order, he didn’t let on. “I’ll try to get out and back quickly,” he replied. “We want to get the campaign off to an early start.”

“Agreed,” Kith noted. “And be careful. I’d rather see you come back emptyhanded than not come back at all.” Parnigar grinned, then grew suddenly serious. “Has there been any word about—I should say ‘from’—Suzine?”

Kith sighed. “Not a thing. It’s as if the world gobbled her up. She slipped away from the conference that afternoon. I brought Vanesti back to the camp as my squire and found her gone.”

“These damned storms will run their course in another few weeks,” said the scout, “but I doubt you’ll be able to send fliers out before then. No doubt she’s holed up safe on some farmstead . . .”

But his words lacked conviction. Indeed, Kith-Kanan had lost optimism and didn’t know what to believe anymore. All indications were that Suzine had left the camp of her own free will. Why? And why wasn’t he more upset?

“You mentioned your squire.” Parnigar smoothly changed the subject. “How’s the young fellow working out?”

“He’s eager, I’ve got to grant him that. My armor hasn’t gleamed like this in years.”

“When we march . . .?”

“He’ll have to come along,” Kith replied. “But I’ll keep him to the rear. He doesn’t have enough experience to let him near the fighting.”

“Aye,” grunted the old warrior before disappearing into the storm.

“This will do, driver. I shall proceed on foot.”

“Milady?” The coachman, as he opened the door for Suzine, looked at her in concern. “The Army of Ergoth has scouts all over here,” he said. “They’ll find you for sure.”

I’m counting on that. Suzine didn’t verbalize her reply. “Your dedication is touching, but, really, I’ll be fine.”

“I think the general would be—”

“The general will not be displeased,” she said firmly.

“Very well—” His reluctance was plain in his voice, but he assisted her in stepping to the ground. The carriage rested at the side of a muddy trail. Several wide pathways led into the woods around them.

She was grateful for the smoothness of the trail. Neither her eyes nor her legs were up to a rigorous hike. She turned toward the coachman who had carried her so faithfully across the plains for more than a week. Her mirror, now resting in the box on her belt, had shown her where to go, allowing her to guide them around outposts of human pickets. The only other possession she carried was in a pouch at her belt: a narrow-bladed knife. She wouldn’t be coming back, but she couldn’t tell the driver that.

“Wait here for two hours,” she said. “I’ll be back by then. I know these woods well. There are some old sights I would like to see.”

Nodding and scowling, the driver climbed back onto his seat and watched until the woods swallowed her up. She hurried along the trail as fast as her aging legs would carry her, but even so, it took her more than an hour to cover two miles. She moved unerringly past many forks in the path, certain that the mirror had shown her the right way.

Shortly after she passed the end of her second mile, an armored crossbowman stepped into the path before her.

“Halt!” he cried, leveling his weapon. At the same time, he gaped in astonishment at the lone old woman who approached the headquarters of the Army of Ergoth.

“I’m glad you are here to greet me,” she said pleasantly. “Take me to see General Giarna!”

“You want to see the general?”

“We’re ... old friends.”

Shaking his head in amazement, the guard nevertheless led Suzine a short way farther down the trail, entering a small clearing. The top of the meadow was almost completely enclosed by a canopy of tall elms—protection against detection from the air, Suzine knew.

“The general’s in there.” The man gestured to a small cottage near the clearing’s edge. Two men-at-arms flanked the doorway, and they snapped to attention as Suzine walked up to them.

“She wants to see the general,” explained the crossbowman, with a shrug.

“Should we search her?” The question, from a muscular halberdier, sent a shiver down Suzine’s stooped spine. She felt acutely conscious of the dagger in her pouch.

“That won’t be necessary.” Suzine recognized the deep voice from within the cottage. The watchmen stood aside, allowing Suzine to step through the door.

“You have come back to me!”

For a moment, Suzine stood still, blinking and trying to see in the dim light. Then the large black-cloaked figure moved toward her, and she knew him—knew his sight, his smell, and his intimidating presence. With a sense of dull wonder, she realized that the tales she had heard, the images of her mirror, were all true. General Giarna stood before her now. She knew that he must be at least seventy years old, but he looked the same as he had forty years earlier!

He stepped closer to her. She felt the revulsion and fear she had known forty years earlier when he had approached her, had used her. Slowly her fingers closed around the weapon in her pouch. The man loomed over her, looking down with a slightly patronizing smile. She stared into his eyes and saw that same hollowness, the same sense of void, that she remembered with such vivid terror.