Elfsorrow

'We've taken in two hundred more refugees, all families with children, and have now closed the town to more. Out in the fields, the planting is almost complete and spring crops should be ready for harvest in ten days or so. That'll help vegetable supplies. By your order, mounted militia are patrolling the ripening fields, but since the first theft we've had no trouble and the refugee areas are being closely watched.

'Livestock isn't so good, though it's not awful. The dairy herds are fine but we saw a marked depletion in breeding stock during the last two seasons, as you know. New calves, piglets and lambs are all down by up to seventy per cent. You'll see I've made a recommendation in the report that we sell on all excess at the premium it'll command and use the money to buy whatever surplus breeding stock we can find and start aggressively rebuilding our herds. If we play it right, we can establish a very strong market position when this thing blows over.'

'But eat bread and vegetable stew in the meantime, eh?' Blackthorne grimaced.

'Not entirely, my Lord. We've had some success with the rabbits of late.' Luke smiled.

'Ah yes,' said Blackthorne. 'Those.'

It had seemed a grand idea at the time. Capture a few rabbits and breed them. Quick and easy meat, so they thought. Minimal effort and the children of the town had been excited at the prospect of helping. But they had proved susceptible to disease, and they dug. My, how they dug, forcing the fencing to be hammered ever deeper. Blackhorne had been about to abandon the whole project.

'What's different?'

'Well, the mages have isolated the most common disease and devised a treatment for their drinking water that keeps them healthy. And they've also placed a border ward around the fence to a depth of twenty feet. Apparently, it's a low drain spell and is harmless. Just undiggable.'

'Good. Excellent.' Blackthorne smiled. Where would they be without mages?

'The figures are all inside. Shall I wait while you read them?'

'No, no. Thank you, Luke, that's excellent. I'll come to you with any questions.' Luke made to rise. 'Take your time. Finish your wine.'

'Thank you, my Lord.'

'And think on this, as I am. Now the colleges are at war, will the conflict spread here? And if it does, how many refugees will be pushed ahead of it? And when you've made that guess, tell me how you think our defences should be aligned and how our stores would be best protected.'

'That possibility hadn't occurred to me,' said Luke. 'We seem so far away.'

'My job to think ahead, yours to tell me how we deal with it. Take your time.'

Luke stared into his wine. Denser walked with his head bowed despite the beauty of the morning. Time was short and The Unknown didn't really appreciate what he'd asked him to do: try and get Erienne to see reason beyond her grief. There was seldom an instant when he wasn't pained by memories of their daughter, but he had chosen not to torture himself with the type of guilt with which Erienne had become so familiar. He didn't want her to stop grieving; he just wanted her to understand that Lyanna's death had been beyond their control. But today wasn't quite like every other day. Today he had to persuade her to leave Herendeneth.

He knew where he'd find her; it was where she spent most of her time. Either tending the grave or lying by it, perhaps singing Lyanna a song or crying into the grass. Sometimes, mercifully, she slipped into sleep.

This morning, Erienne was watering the flowers as Denser approached from slightly behind and to her left. She had a bucket and a cup and was gently pouring water on to the vibrant blooms and into the earth around them, occasionally reaching in to pull up a weed or pick out a dead leaf. Finishing her task, she filled the cup again and poured the contents over her head and face, the water splashing onto her light-weave clothes and running in rivulets down her face. Three times she refilled the cup, then shook her head to send a fine spray of water into the air. She pushed her hands over her face and through her hair.

Gods falling, but she was beautiful. The water had soaked her shirt; the material clinging to the curve of her breasts and the wet hair hanging down her back were bewitching. Denser sighed. For now, he consigned such thoughts to his dreams. He knew Erienne felt desire too but it was up to her to come to him; she knew he would be waiting.

As always, she heard him approach and half turned, the corners of her mouth turned up just slightly.

'I'm sorry I closed the door last night,' she said.

Denser smiled and shook his head. It hadn't been the first time he'd slept elsewhere. 'Don't worry, love.'

'I missed your breathing.'

'Did you?' Denser sat beside her, surprised at her willingness to talk. So often, this was the hardest thing for her. Seeing the grave brought everything back so clearly.

'Everyone has to have something real,' she said, pushing a strand of hair away from her mouth. 'Something that's there the next time you want it.'

'And I'll always be there.'

'But I know why you're here now. Right now.'

'I assumed you would. You know he's right, don't you?' asked Denser, looking for the flash of anger in her eyes. It wasn't there. At least, not yet.

'But no one asked me, did they? You all just assumed I'd go along. That I'd leave her here alone.' She reached out a hand to pat the ground and the tears were there so suddenly. 'How can you ask that of me? She's my daughter.'

Denser put out an arm but Erienne shied away, wiping at her face with her fingers.

'She'll never be alone. She'll be safe until you return, I'll see to that.'

Erienne made a derisory sound in her throat. 'Going to have one of the Protectors look after this bed, are you? It'll be ruined in a day.'

Denser wasn't sure if she was joking or not. 'There are the Guild elves.'

'If I'm not here, those witches will meddle. Spoil what I've done.' There was the flash and it saddened Denser's heart.

'Erienne, they haven't even the strength to walk here. Nerane can do it. She has the right touch, don't you think?'

Erienne shrugged but said nothing, just stared down at the grave.

'Erienne?' She looked up at him. 'Please? We need you. The Raven isn't complete without you.'

'You'd leave me, would you? If I said no?'

'I'm Raven,' said Denser.

'You're my husband first, you bastard!' she snapped out. 'But The Unknown snaps his fingers and you go running. Fine.'

'When I asked for his help, he was there. For both of us,' said Denser quietly. 'And he left his family to do it. Balaia needs what we can give it.'

'I've lost everything,' said Erienne as if engaged in another conversation.

'Not quite. There's me, there's The Raven and there's Balaia. You'll never lose me but we have to fight for our country.'

Erienne looked hard at him then, trying to discern any insincerity. 'You really think The Raven can help, don't you?'

'Don't you?' replied Denser, and shrugged.

'We don't always win, do we?' said Erienne, her voice threatening to break again.

'No we don't. But we're there nonetheless.'

'And you will go whether I do or not?'

'Oh, love, it's not a choice I want to make. But we've our lives together for ever and I want us to have a country to live in that's worthy of you.'

'Denser, you're so honourable sometimes,' she chided gently, a smile brief as a blink on her lips. 'But you're asking me to leave her and I don't know that I can do that.'

'You'll be among your most trusted friends,' said Denser, and this time she didn't shy away from his arm but allowed him to draw her close. Denser felt a thrill at her beautiful wet hair smell so close to him. 'Here, you'll be alone. With us, you'll never be so.'