Lara

escaped with several of their men I would think they would be watching, but they are not.” She turned to Imre who had now ridden up to listen, and said, “Was your land always so bleak, lord Imre? There are great open gashes in the landscape, and filth pouring into your streams and lakes. Many trees have been felled and left lying.”

“No,” Imre of the Tormod answered Lara. “We have always cherished the land, and each time we close a mine we restore the land by planting trees and seeding new growth. Floren can tell you for we have purchased many trees and flowering plants from him. We love our land, and are grateful for the bounty it provides us, but these Hetarians only desire its wealth. They do not care that they are poisoning our water-water which flows into the hills and plains of our land.”

“The stream in one of my villages had contaminated water,” Vartan said. “The headman brought it to my attention when we visited recently.”

“There! You see?” Imre replied. “They will destroy us all if we do not stop them now. And before we managed to flee they had begun cutting the trees on the mountain for its lumber. There is a great need for lumber to build in the City, I have heard it said. But they do not replace the trees, and the mountains need trees to keep them from collapsing. If a mountain fell it could tumble into our streams, or destroy our villages. It has been our custom that whenever we cut a tree we replant a tree.”

“Hetar has done much damage. Perhaps you might take your complaint to the High Court of Hetar, and demand reparations for the damage,” Lara suggested.

“It would be a waste of time,” Vartan told his wife. “Hetarians consider us savages. We would be at a great disadvantage in your court. Better we simply drive them from the Tormod and Piaras so we may begin the business of repairing the land before the damage spreads any further into the Outlands.”

They stopped to rest until moonrise. Then they continued on their way. The mountains were drawing closer with every step their mounts traveled. The following midday they were close enough so that they stopped in a small grove of trees, hiding themselves cautiously. Lara shape-shifted once again, flying ahead to see if anything had changed, but it had not. There was no one to see their approach. At moonrise they moved forward once more, finally entering the mountains. They rode single-file along narrow trails amid thick Forest heading toward the Crystalline Falls, which they hoped to reach by midmorning.

As they rode along Lara felt a prickle slide down her back. They were being watched, but not by human eyes. There were faeries in these woods. She felt something light upon her shoulder, and turned her head to see a tiny girl smiling at her, iridescent wings fluttering.

“Hail, Lara, daughter of Queen Ilona!” the faerie said. “I have been sent by my queen to ask if we may help you. Speak to me as you would to Ethne, within your mind. Those riding with you can neither see or hear me. My words and presence are for you.”

You are a different tribe from that of my mother, Lara noted.

“Forest Faeries come in all sizes,” the tiny creature chuckled. “My name is Esme.”

I have taken a bird’s form to fly above these mountains and learn of any threats, Lara said. Have my eyes missed any danger, Esme? Lara asked.

“They are very arrogant people,” Esme replied. “They expect no resistance from the Outlands.”

But several escaped, Lara said. Were they not concerned by that?

“Those sent to capture them could not, and lied to their masters that they had killed Imre and his band, and thrown their bodies into the river at the Crystalline Falls. They were believed.”

How might you best help us? Lara asked.

“We have been friends with the Tormod and the Piaras forever,” Esme replied. “We know the Devyn will enter the villages first. We shall be there to aid them. These poor people are frightened, especially having been told that their leaders deserted them and were then killed. The truth will revive their courage. They will be ready when your armies come. We will also warn the Devyn of the traitors among the Tormod and the Piaras, for we know who they are.” Her smile twinkled at Lara. “If you need me, just ask Ethne, and she will call me,” Esme said.

“Thank you so much!” Lara replied, and the tiny faerie was as quickly gone as she had come.

“Did you see that tiny bird with the iridescent wings at your shoulder?” Vartan asked Lara. “You must have, for you turned and stared at it for the longest time.”

“What you saw as a bird was actually one of the Forest Faeries who live here. My mother sent her. She has confirmed what I believed true-the Hetarians are secure in their conquest of these lands,” Lara explained.

“Will the faeries help us?” he inquired.

“Esme, for that is her name, says her kind have been friends with the Tormod and the Piaras forever. They will go into the villages with the Devyn bards and spread word that we are coming to release them from their bondage. She says those pursuing Imre, Petruso and their men returned to their masters and claimed they had killed them. The people were beaten down by such terrible news. The knowledge that their leaders are alive will hearten them greatly.”

“When we reach the Falls I will tell Imre and Petruso,” Vartan said. Then he reached out to caress her cheek. “You are a blessing to the Outlands, Lara, daughter of Swiftsword,” he told her.

She smiled. “So you have previously said, husband. But I am not necessarily a blessing, Vartan. It is just that I hate injustice, and what has happened here is unjust.”

They arrived at the Crystalline Falls in late afternoon. Lara had never seen their like. It was beautiful. The waters fell in a silvery sheet from the heights above. The torrent dropped into a round rock pool, made its way over a much lower bed of rocks into a river that flowed down and through the mountains. The clear liquid in the pool had so far remained untouched by the impurities the Hetarians were creating. The banks about the pool were soft with moss. The trees soared, most now bare of their leaves. They were the first to arrive, and made their camp without a fire. Lara went to greet the spirit of the falls, requesting sanctuary for the Outlander armies. By moonrise, however, all the other clan armies had reached the Crystalline Falls.

In a tent lit by a single lamp, the clan chieftains and their lieutenants gathered to discuss their next move. Their relief when Vartan told them of the faeries who would aid them was almost palpable. These were not men and women for whom fighting came easily. Vartan also told them that the Devyn bards had already been dispatched into the villages, and that tomorrow the quest to free their fellow Outlanders would begin.

Imre explained that they were less than a day’s march from most of the villages. He laid out a parchment map on the tent’s single table, showing them where they now were, and how each clan family could reach their assigned villages. “After you have liberated your village,” Imre said, “you will go here.” He pointed. “These are the Singing Caves. We will all meet there, and continue on to the final two villages we must take. Each of you will be given a copy of this map to guide you. Your individual paths are marked in your clan color.”

“Remember,” Vartan said to them. “All the mercenaries but one are to be killed. You can show no mercy, for Hetar has showed no mercy. If we are to make them honor the treaties signed between us centuries ago, we must impress them with our determination so that this never happens again. Are we agreed?” He looked about the tent at the nodding heads. “Our cause is just,” Vartan said. “The Celestial Actuary will be with us.”

“May the Celestial Actuary have mercy on the souls of our victims,” Lara told them. “Wars are always said to be just for one reason or another, and the Celestial Actuary’s name is always invoked with righteous piety by warriors about to go into battle.” She sighed sadly. “Pity those we must kill to make our point, my lords.”

“Remember, lady,” Lord Roan said, “that it was Hetar and not the Outlands who began this trouble.”

“Aye, and I am shamed by it as well as saddened,” Lara replied. “My innocence when I left the City was as much of mind as body. My loyalties, however, are with the Outlands, Roan of the Aghy. Not Hetar.”

“I did not doubt it, lady,” the horse lord replied. “I merely meant to point out that if pity is to be extended it should first be offered to the Tormod and the Piaras.”

Lara bowed politely. “I stand corrected, my lord,” she said graciously.

He smiled wryly at her and returned the bow, not having expected such a courteous reply. He could see Vartan was irritated with him. But then, Vartan was hopelessly in love with his beautiful halfling wife, and apt to be a bit of a fool over her.

Lara moved into the shadows of the tent briefly, returning with a tray of goblets. “Let us drink to our success, my friends,” she said, offering the goblets about.

Each man and woman in the tent took up a goblet and raised it as they looked to Vartan and Lara, who murmured softly in her husband’s ear.

“To justice,” Vartan toasted. “And to the men and women of the Outlands who believe so strongly in it!”