The firelight danced and played in the intricate grooves of the finely crafted pommel. Thealos turned the blade over, examining the other side closely. The hilt had the fascinating impression of a wolfs-head with two glittering eyes that seemed to stare at him. He was amazed that there was no rust or splotches on the blade or hilt. But it was the blade that intrigued him the most. It was narrow, leaf-shaped, and sharper than anything he had ever touched. He was a little surprised at the heft and how light it felt in his hand. In the night air, it was cool to the touch, but he could feel the fire of its power buried deep within – sleeping. He remembered how it had felt when he faced off with Tannon’s Band. Its power had numbed him to everything, even pain. That was so very dangerous, he decided.
Glancing up, Thealos looked at Jaerod. The human sat against a shaggy elm on the other side of the fire and cut pear slices with a small knife. Their evening meal had been shared in silence. Thealos noticed the tapered long sword he wore at his side. It was an elegant weapon.
“Was your weapon forged by the Shae?” Thealos asked, rubbing the blade of Jade Shayler with an oilcloth once more before slipping it back into his belt. Jaerod looked at Thealos with an amused smile and nodded. “And where did you get it?”
“Not from Avisahn,” Jaerod replied enigmatically. “Do you want to see it?”
Thealos nodded, and Jaerod set the fruit and knife down and leaned forward, drawing the weapon from the leather sheath. Firelight glimmered across the narrow blade. Jaerod held it up for Thealos to see. There was a strange marking on the hilt, the one that matched the amulet around Jaerod’s neck. It wasn’t a Shae symbol, at least not one that Thealos recognized. Yet he could feel the power in the blade even as far away as he was. Silvan magic thrummed in the air.
“It must have cost a great deal,” Thealos observed, nodding respectfully at the weapon.
“Actually it was a gift,” Jaerod replied. He eased it gently in the sheath. “You’ve been quiet today, Thealos.” He took a hunk of wood and tossed it on the fire. Sparks showered up in angry snaps. “You’re upset about our discussion this afternoon?”
Thealos hugged his knees and stared at the flames. He knew from Jaerod’s vantage, his eyes were probably glowing. “I said more than I should have.” He glanced up at Jaerod and smirked. “I do that, you know.”
“The tongue is the hardest to tame – especially for the young. And I’m very good at prying out secrets.”
“I’m older than you,” Thealos countered. “But if you know my people, you already knew that.”
He smiled. “The Shae live longer than humans. The Life magic in you is strong and it sustains you well in this world. This longevity is a gift, truly. It gives you a special affinity with the Earth magic, which is a form of Life magic too – if you don’t mind me putting it that way.”
Thealos was not offended. To the Shae, nearly everything was a living thing and had its own magic. But people were considered a higher order than animals and plants. Shedding the life of a man was never done on a whim, just as beasts were slain for food not sport, and his people preferred working stone for shelter than slaying trees. He continued to listen as Jaerod went on.
“You are more sensitive to the balance of magic than humans or even Drugaen. You have every right to be wary of those not of your race, Thealos. Experience and disappointment are cruel teachers. I still have to earn your trust. Just as you have to earn mine.” He poked the fire with a stick. “I understand your anger at what the humans have done to the valley. It used to belong to your people – from the Ravenstone to the Kingshadow. Imagine it – a forest that stretched across the entire way, cut into little ribbons by rivers and streams. It was a vast, beautiful kingdom. The Crimson Wolfsmen kept preserves for the king’s hunting, and no man could pass or cross without using the Great Highway.”
Thealos eyed Jaerod. He could well imagine what it used to be like during his elcorrel’s days, but how did this Shaefellow know all this?
Jaerod took the charred stick and ground the embers into the dirt. “There was Avisahn, of course – the king’s city. But there were also watchposts built to unite the valley as one.” He poked the stick around the dirt, leaving pockmarks of ash. “Jan Lee, Jove Stand, Citidellian, Novune, Sol, Kirae.” Each black mark Jaerod pressed into the dirt showed a web around the main one. “And we can’t forget Jenterhome,” he finished, stamping another mark far south of the first one. “Only a few remain under the control of the Shae now. They were built to preserve the Silvan way.” The gray eyes lifted at Thealos across the fire. “We’re going to one right now. It was the first watchpost to be surrendered to the humans of Aralon.”
“Sol,” Thealos said, nodding. “The river city. We still control Jan Lee though.”
Jaerod shook his head. “Sol was a Shae watchpost. But it was not the first to fall. We’re going to Jenterhome. They call it Landmoor now.” He prodded the farthest scorch mark.