Landmoor

Sturnin spoke up. “I came to Castun to find you, Sleepwalker. But I won’t dishonor the Shae by condemning you before hearing you. Tell us what you know.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

Jaerod glanced across the room, going over each of their faces. “I’ll stand, Flent. Thank you. My name is Jaerod of Safehome,” he began in the formal tradition of the Pax, but the name Safehome caused Allavin and Thealos to stare at him as if he’d uttered blasphemy. “I am known by your customs as a Sleepwalker, though that is not what we call ourselves. I do not work for the Gray Legion or have ties to generals or emperors. My loyalty is to the Shae of Safehome. My order is the guardians of Safehome, the Shae city that first came to this world a long time ago.”

“Came to this world?” Sturnin asked. “Or do you mean settled?”

“He means came,” Allavin answered with a look of disbelief. “I’ve heard the legends. The Shae say that they came to this world on a city in the clouds and that it will return and bring them away when their work here is finished.”

Thealos nestled back against the wall where he could see everyone clearly, including Jaerod. He folded his arms and listened. He knew of Safehome. But Allavin was right – it was a legend to even the Shae. How could he say he was from Safehome?

Jaerod sighed. “The Shae traditions you know tell a portion of it, not all. Safehome is not a city in a country or bordering the woodlands as you might expect. It is a city of peace. It did not leave the world with a promise to return. It never left. It abides here still.”

“I don’t understand,” Allavin said. “There are many Shae anxiously waiting for Safehome to return again.”

“I do not have much time tonight.” Jaerod’s expression was one of sadness. “Not enough to explain all that would be useful to you. Not enough to explain a hundredth of what I know about our enemies. And I am not here to tell you about Safehome and argue with you about what you may know of it. I am here because of your valley and what is happening here. I am not part of the Bandit Rebellion. Any part of it. War is beginning again in this land. A Bandit regiment has massed just south of us – about a day’s march away – in the heart of the Shadows Wood. It is the Shoreland regiment, one of Ballinaire’s three. The other two still threaten, but are not close enough to interfere yet. What threatens us this time is that Lord Ballinaire will not fight his war merely with weapons of steel and protect himself with armor. He has discovered in the Shadows Wood a remnant of Silvan magic – magic the Shae once controlled.”

Reaching into his black tunic, Jaerod withdrew the damp sack of Everoot. He tugged open the strings and emptied the sack into his palm. The green moss looked almost black in the shadows, except for the buds of blue and violet. Thealos heard it sing to him and felt its craving stir his blood.

The Sleepwalker’s eyes were unsettling. He looked at Allavin. “Is this what you saw in the Shadows Wood?”

Allavin nodded. “Yes, but we couldn’t get close enough…”

“No, of course not. Ballinaire has a Sorian to guard it. There is no way you would be able to sneak past one. But a Sleepwalker…” He let the thought dangle in the air with another wry smile. “We have ways of getting past even them. This plant…this powerful bit of Silvan magic –” He looked over the faces of those in the room before stopping and staring at Flent. “It can heal any wound. No matter how mortal.” His voice dropped to a soft whisper. “Do you remember how it healed you, Flent Shago?”

The Drugaen’s eyes widened. “That’s how Thealos healed me in Sol?”

Thealos met Flent’s look of surprise and nodded. He looked at Ticastasy. “You’ve seen it work too.”

“How does it heal?” the knight asked brusquely, stroking his mustache.

“It heals by touch,” Jaerod replied. “Press it against an injury. Chew on a stub for poisoning. Make it into tea for a fever.” He shrugged. “It heightens the senses, makes you keen and focused with Earth magic. But it needs water to rejuvenate itself. Simple, clean, water. As I said, the strongest of Silvan magics. It’s name is the same in both king’s common and Silvan. Everoot.”

Justin’s eyes widened at the word, and Thealos leaned over and quickly told him what Jaerod had been saying.

“How much does Ballinaire have?” Sturnin asked. “Just healing alone, it would benefit any army.”