“The Trifect is crumbling,” Alyssa said. “If not broken already. Madelyn has seen to that.”
“This matters little to me, Lady Gemcroft,” said Laryssa. “Our conflict with Angelport is far greater than any minor dispute between you and your associates. We cannot risk being found harboring fugitives. You must go.”
“Surely they can stay until they have recovered,” Graeven said, looking to Haern. “How bad are your wounds, Watcher?”
“Just Haern,” he said. “And I’m fine. It’s Zusa who worries me.”
Behind him, Zusa lay very still upon the bed, the only sound that of her heavy breathing. With Alyssa’s help she had managed to run, though Haern had been prepared to carry her the final stretch of the city streets. The faceless woman had proved her strength, and refused. Still, she seemed to be paying the price, breathing in thin, pained gasps.
“Wounded or not, this is not a risk we are in a position to take,” said the elven princess. “The slightest misstep, and we shall come to war. I do not trust this city’s lord to react properly should he find out.”
As she spoke, Graeven leaned closer to Zusa, a frown spreading across his face as he listened to her breathing.
“Her blood is poisoned by leaves of the
“Nyecoa?” asked Alyssa.
“A plant that grows from the roots of our trees. What you humans call Violet.”
“Poisoned?” asked Haern, feeling a distant touch of panic in his chest. “What do you mean poisoned? Will she get better?”
“Without our care?” Graeven glanced to Laryssa. “Unchecked, it will grow only worse. She will die in two days, maybe three.”
The room grew silent but for the quiet muttering of a few male elves. Laryssa stood there, making eye contact with the ambassador. It was as if they could read one another without a word between them. At last, the elven princess spoke.
“We are grateful for your kindness, Alyssa, but we know it was done with your own aims in mind. If you stay, then we must go, and our final word with Angelport will be one of war should they continue to press our borders. The life of a single human servant is not worth the thousands that might die if Ingram discovers we helped you.”
“Servant?” said Alyssa. “She is no servant, she is my friend, and you must help her!”
“Make your decision, Lady Gemcroft.”
Haern watched her struggle, and he wished he had an answer. They’d come to the elves for aid, with Alyssa insisting it’d been offered to her by the ambassador. Sadly, it appeared his sway was nothing compared to the princess. Where else might they go? The few servants and mercenaries they’d brought with them to Angelport were back at Keenan’s estate, suffering who knew what fate. They were lost, alone.
“You would cast me out?” Alyssa asked, her voice cold. “Is that the truth of this?”
No hesitation. Laryssa nodded, and behind her, the various elven men spoke their agreement.
“Will you speak of this, when asked? Or has my friendship been mistrusted so deeply you believe I have no other motivation than greed?”
“I will speak no lies,” Laryssa said. “To stain my honor in such a way is disgraceful. We are people of our word, Alyssa. It would be best if you humans learned this.”
They waited, all eyes on Alyssa. Haern wanted to be furious, but he was too exhausted, too distracted by the ache of his bandaged shoulder. He knelt by Zusa’s bed, and he took her hand in his. It felt aflame with fever, and that heat ignited something deep inside. Turning to the elves, he stood, and he felt the cold anger of the Watcher overcoming him.
“Cowards,” he said. “You use caution to mask your fear. You speak the word ‘war’ to hide your inability to act. We come seeking aid, yet you would turn us away to further your own ends, then throw it back in our face to justify it? Your very presence in this city means people might die. Bite the hand that once offered you aid; it is your choice. But know the wild dogs of this city can smell blood, and you won’t remain hidden for long; not from them. Not from me.”
“Quiet, Haern,” Alyssa said, glaring.
“Is that a threat?” asked Laryssa, standing perfectly still. Only her mouth moved. “Is it, Watcher?”
“Not unless Zusa dies from your cowardice.”
“Enough!”
Alyssa stepped between Haern and Laryssa.
“I will not apologize for him,” she said, and Haern was proud of how tall and regal she appeared before the elven princess. “For he speaks my mind. But I know the lives at stake, and I know what Zusa would choose. I will go, and I do so in hopes you will find a way to peace. I do so in hopes that thousands of others will be saved. But consider me friend and ally no more.”
The ambassador stepped beside Laryssa and began speaking in elvish, but several others behind him shouted him down. Laryssa shook her head, and the sadness in her eyes only fueled Haern’s anger.
“Go,” she said. “Be safe, Lady Gemcroft. It saddens my heart knowing this is the fate all agreements between our races must one day reach.”
“Your choice,” Alyssa said, shaking her head, before turning to Haern. “Can you carry her?”
Haern scooped Zusa into his arms, shifting as much of her weight onto his good shoulder as he could. The pain was intense. Well, he thought, at least all those years of training under his father’s tutors would be good for something. Locking the pain into a distant corner of his mind, he forced himself to not feel it. Just an ache, he thought. Just a dull ache.
“I can walk,” Zusa murmured.
“Sure you can,” Haern said, chuckling. “But you won’t.”
They left the house under the cold stares of the elves. Alyssa glanced back once when they exited, as if she expected someone to follow after them, but no one came. Suddenly thrust back onto the streets, Haern felt exposed, and it seemed every pair of eyes watched him as the people passed. It wasn’t true, not entirely, but he was used to hiding in shadows and traveling by night. At least they wore simple clothing. As long as they could avoid guards, they might have a chance.
“Well,” he said as Zusa wrapped her arms about his neck and shifted so he’d be more comfortable. “Where do we go?”
Alyssa looked down either direction of the street, then sighed.
“I haven’t the faintest clue, Haern. I wish I were home.”
So did he. He’d give anything to have the rest of the Eschaton mercenaries there. Tarlak would have whipped up a few fireballs to convince the elves of their foolishness. Brug would have done a fine job ranting and raving, and of course Delysia would slide in right after, ready to speak a kind word to defuse…
He blinked.
“I have an idea,” he said. “It’s desperate, but it might serve for a few days until we figure something out.”
“Lead us, then,” she said. “I trust you.”
“Let’s hope I’m worthy of it.”
When they’d first toured the city under the guise of newlyweds, he and Zusa had memorized the location of various places, generally the markets, the docks, and where the Merchant Lords lived. There was one building he’d noticed, not because of its grand size, but because of how diminutive it’d been. The only problem was that they’d have to pass through one of the gates further toward the docks, which meant a cursory examination by the guards.
“When we’re questioned, just speak the truth,” he told her as they walked. “Our friend is sick, and we’re seeking help.”
“Are you certain?”
“Stop worrying,” Zusa said, opening a sleepy eye. “You’re braver than this.”
Alyssa flushed, then quickened her step to keep pace with Haern.
They arrived at the heavy gates, two guards overlooking those passing by. Every now and then they’d turn someone away, usually if they were too poor to afford the bribe. They had let him through with hardly a glance
