But what was Shana going to do about this? Had she even noticed?
A quick glance in her direction told him that she had noticed. Her eyes were on the linked hands—and she was smiling, ever so slightly.
Well, well, well. If Shana didn't mind, if she approved, who was he to interfere?
And nothing at all may come of this anyway, he reminded himself, and turned his mind and attention back to the topic at hand. After all, nothing could come of this until they were all free and away from this place.
* * *
Myre was altogether pleased with the way things were going. At the Citadel, old Caellach Gwain was slowly undermining the authority of those that Shana had left in charge—and with every day that passed that did not bring Shana's return, even those loyal to her lost some of their confidence. Careful never to go where one of the dragons might spot her, she moved among them in the guise of a former human slave, dropping little hints, fragments of doubt. Perhaps Shana had deserted them. Perhaps she had been captured by the elven lords. Perhaps she had fallen victim to some horrid monster of the wilderness, something no one had ever encountered before.
With care and guile she spread the insidious doubts—that, no matter what the cause, Shana, the Elvenbane, was never coming back.
Caellach Gwain, bless his twisted old heart, was quick to pick up on the rumors and spread them further. Denelor and the Senior Wizard were hard put to keep their hold over the others at this point. Let them come up against the first real danger or hardship, and the unity of the wizards would shatter like shale.
And as for Jamal…
She waited for him in her dead-end canyon. He had not yet been ready to ally with her at their last meeting, but she sensed he was close. He was probably waiting to find out just what it was that she wanted, like any properly cautious creature.
The soft thud of hooves warned her he had arrived, and she settled herself for a nice, productive talk. She had decided, if he asked her what her reward would be for her aid, that she would tell him the truth. It was a truth that he would certainly understand.
The war-bull, with Jamal leading it afoot, plodded around a bend toward her. He stopped at a prudent distance from her.
I am here, he said simply.
As am I, she replied, with a nod of her head. So. I have offered alliance, War Chief. You said that you wished to think on it. Have you thought?
I have. His heavy brows drew together. You have not said what it is that you will gain from this alliance. It is said, 'an ally who asks for nothing expects everything.' That is not a bargain I am prepared to make.
Myre hissed laughter. And a wise man you are. But you, War Chief, will surely understand what it is that I want—for although to some it may seem insignificant, it is a reward beyond price for me.
He waited, silent, for her to name that reward.
Revenge, she breathed, and saw his entire face light up with understanding and appreciation. You have as captives my enemy and my brother. That is my reward; a free hand with each.
Done, he said instantly, and grounded the butt of his spear in the earth. I swear it by the red earth and the black, by the Forge and the Fire. Now—how are we to make use of this alliance?
He cocked his head to one side, quizzically.
You know, for I have shown you, that I can take any form I please, she replied. So—first, I shall go among your people in a form that none would suspect, and I will listen and learn who is your friend, who is your foe, and who is undecided. Then, when the time is right, you declare for yourself the full power of the Clan leadership, with a dragon to ride as proof of your mastery! You select a few who most oppose you and— She delicately examined her talons. I think I need say no more.
He nodded, pleased. I doubt that many will continue hi opposition once the first lessons have been dispensed, he said with a bloodthirsty chuckle that would have sounded well in the throat of a dragon. And after, if you continue to walk in that form-with-no-suspicion, we will continue to learn who opposes in silence. Hmm?
Precisely. Now it was her turn to cock her head to the side, quizzically. I assume you do have a form in mind?
Oh, yes! Now he laughed. And that is the cream of the jest! So let me tell you___
If Shana had allowed herself any time to think of anything but their immediate problem, she knew she would have been baffled, bewildered, and entirely turned round about by now. She had thought that she was and would always be in love with Valyn, poor Valyn, who had sacrificed himself to save all of them from his father.
Her friendship with Mero had never turned to anything more than that, after all. Nor did her friendship with Zed or with any of the other wizards her own age. She had told herself that love only came once—and that it was her job to take the life that Valyn had given to her and make the best she could of it. After a year, she was even able to enjoy herself again. She had thought that would never be so heart-touched again.
Now—now she was not only no longer so sure of that, she was no longer so sure that she had ever been in love with Valyn at all! Infatuated, of course. Emotionally at a boiling point, certainly. But in love? Perhaps not.
Her first reaction when she saw Lorryn without any illusion cloaking his features was to compare him to Valyn, and in that comparison he came out a poor second. In a way it was inevitable that she should do so, since his elven blood was so clearly in his features, as opposed to Mero, who looked far more human.
Or even me, she reminded herself. Her hair had grown out enough that combing it out was a necessity and a chore, but the time needed to untangle it gave her time to think about something other than problems. And that flaming red hair coiling itself around her fingers was a stark reminder that there was very little of the elven maiden in her, either.
Lorryn, on the other hand—well, compared to Valyn, he was a copy of a masterpiece by an inexperienced student. His human blood coarsened and thickened his features just enough that it was very noticeable. So her first impression based on looks alone was not a favorable one.
Ah, but then he opened his mouth.
That was when she realized that appearance was the smallest part of Lorryn, and that he could have been as coarse as a mud-doll, and she would have paid attention to him.
He listens to me, which is more than Valyn ever did most of the time. He gives my ideas the same weight as his own. And his own are nothing to be ashamed of.
She took a bit of leather cord and began braiding her hair, working carefully to keep from making more knots than she'd taken out.
He was sensible, too; just because he really liked an idea, that didn't mean he wasn't prepared to give it up if someone came up with a reason why it wouldn't work.
He was willing to learn from all of them: from Shana, who was female; from Mero, who was younger than he; from his own sister, whom by all logic he should have held in the gentle contempt that all elven males held for their women.
Not mat they hadn't had their share of fights—
Well, more like squabbles. Mostly because we were all tense. But he had been just as willing to patch things up and apologize as she had been, once their tempers had cooled, and after the events of the past two years, she had learned to apologize to just about anybody if it had to be done. Hadn't she learned to be polite to the old whiners? She hadn't expected the same out of him, however.