Landmoor

Tilting his hand, Thealos dropped the small bud back inside. “Where did you get it?”


A wry smile passed over the stranger’s face. “And just a moment ago, you weren’t all that interested in what I had to say. As I told you, I think your little queen would want to know about this. It’s growing down in the Shoreland – west of Sol near the fortress of Landmoor. That’s where I am going. And you, if you’ll come with me.” He twisted the knots and fastened it again to his belt. Rising, he brushed off his black pants and rested his hand on the pommel of the long tapered blade.

“Do I really have a choice?” Thealos asked, studying him. He untied the cloth sling and stretched his arm. The bone was completely whole.

“I won’t force you, Thealos,” Jaerod replied. “I’m not a mercenary. I’ll not kidnap you and drag you after lost treasure. I am a messenger, in a way. And you are part of that message. The way I look at it, you owe me your life, but whether you choose to honor that debt…I will leave that to you. The gold coins and Wolfsman magic,” he nodded to the leaf-blade short sword, “they mean nothing to me. If you do nothing else, tell your queen that you met someone who possessed Silvan magic and knew where a grove of it could be found. Maybe she’ll find that useful enough to act outside of Avisahn for once.” He shrugged. “But I don’t think so. There is so much she doesn’t know.”

“If I follow you, what then?” Thealos asked. “I’m still not sure what you want me to do. You may use our magic and speak in our tongue, but I don’t know you. I don’t even know what you are.”

“There is really only one way to find out then, isn’t there? Why don’t you come with me as far as Sol and let me explain along the way why I need you. Besides, you don’t really think you can go back to Avisahn right now, do you?” Something in his voice told Thealos that Jaerod knew exactly how little choice he really had.




*



In the end, it wasn’t the small loaves of spiced-apple bread that made Thealos follow him. Or the cuts from ovals of sharp cheese or even the small sack of dried apple shavings and salted almonds. It was how he put out the fire.

Jaerod didn’t let the coals burn low and leave the ashes and stumps of charred wood in the middle of the glen. He dropped a fistful of sapple-dust on the flames to suck the heat away, and then he carefully used a small trowel to bury the ashes and debris in the earth. He did it conscientiously, leaving no disturbance to mar his passing. It was a practiced maneuver, quick and effortless, not one awkwardly rehearsed in order to impress a Shae. He was demonstrating a respect for the land and the Rules of Forbiddance. A respect that had been taught by the Shae for thousands of years. Some humans, it seemed, had learned it even after all this time.

“Who are you, Jaerod?” Thealos asked as they hiked along the tall ridge of the valley just before dawn. To the east, the familiar rumble of the Trident showed the green fringe of the wood. To the west, he could see only the broad prairies and beautiful stands of elm and birch. It was a vast land, flat and low with rolling hills and high-looping hawks. Thealos’ clothes were still damp from a quick wash in the river, but at least the dirt and blood were fading stains instead of the vivid reminder of what had happened to him in the gully. They were memories he intended to banish as quickly as he could.

“What do you mean?”

Thealos looked at him curiously. “I want to know how you found me in that wood with those soldiers. Did you happen upon us during…or after?”

“You knew I was there when you were dallying with the cook in the dark.”

“I didn’t see…”

“You knew I was there,” Jaerod cut in. “Of course you didn’t see me, but I was there.”

“That was you?” Thealos said softly. “I knew something was following us. But why couldn’t I see you?” Something snagged at his mind again, and he caught it. “You’ve been following me since Dos-Aralon, haven’t you?”

Jaerod smiled smugly. “You remembered. Good.”

“Why?”

“Why indeed? A Shae leaving Dos-Aralon before the gate curfew. Very curious. A Kilshae then – one of the banished ones? Perhaps. A Kilshae would have drowned his sorrows in ale… or worse.” He shrugged. “A runaway, then. But from what?” He gave Thealos an arch look. “It didn’t take long to find out. The Council Elder of Vannier is as angry as a hornet swarm.” He clucked his tongue. “I’m beginning to think you don’t have any idea how to make friends.”

“And how did you know about Nordain?” Thealos demanded.

“The news is all over Avisahn. Everyone is talking about it.”

“You went to Avisahn?” Thealos asked in disbelief.

“Why should that surprise you?”

“It surprises me that you made it past the Crimson Wolfsmen! The city proper is guarded on every side. You can’t cross the river without being seen by the watch.”