“That was the one we saw? The same?”
The elf nodded. “Yes. He risked that, to save the rest, but he could not save himself. We have no worse to fear than such slavery. A human can always hope for death; you will not live even a hundred years, but for an elf to endure the touch of that filth forever—” He stopped abruptly and stood up, facing away from her.
Paks could not think of anything to say. She had finished her piece of the waybread, and she went to the spring for another drink of water. When she returned, the elf had seated himself again, and seemed calmer. “Do we travel again tonight?” she asked.
“No. We will meet the rangers here, at this spring. If you are not ready to sleep, I could tell you more of Lyonya—”
Paks nodded, and he spread his cloak and reclined on it.
“I told you how the elves came here,” he began. “The land was not empty even before. The rockfolk, both dwarf and gnome, quarried the mountains and hills. Orcs harried the forests, in great tribes; we drove them out, foot by foot. Other, smaller people lived here; they all vanished, quite soon, and we never knew them. For long we had the forest to ourselves, and for long we planted and shaped the growing of it, flower and tree and moss. Then men came.” He stopped, frowning, and paused long before going on. “The first to come was a shipload of Seafolk, fleeing enemies up the broad Honnorgat. They cut a clearing on the shore, and planted their grain. We watched from afar. A colony began along the coast, where Bannerlith is now, and another across the river’s mouth. More ships came. We held council, and decided to meet with them.”
“What happened?”
“They were hasty men, used to war. I think they thought they could drive us all away. But one sea-captain’s son, and his crew, befriended an elf trapped by wolves along the shore, and as one note suggests a harmony, one honorable deed suggests the possibility of friendship. After awhile those who wanted to live with us settled on the south shore, and the rest took the north. Elves are not much welcome in Pargun and Kostandan. Then men began coming from the south. These were different, and they moved into Fintha and Tsaia. When we met them, they had friendly words, not blows, for us. Many of them had met elves in the mountains west of the south marches. Here, in Lyonya itself, we made pacts with the humans, and agreed on lands and forests. We had begun to intermarry, very slowly, and when Lyonya grew to become a kingdom, elven blood ran in the royal family, though little enough in the present King.”
“And it’s now shared by elves and men?”
“Yes—as much as immortal and mortal can share anything. Those that will meet us here are both elven and human—most of mixed blood.”
“Aren’t you one of them?”
“I?” He laughed softly. “No. I wander too much. Master Oakhallow knew of the need, and used me for a messenger and guide. He is, as all the Kuakkganni are, one to make use of any chance that comes.”
“Don’t you like him?”
“Like him? What has that to do? The Kuakkganni are alien to elves, though they know us as well as any, and we are alien to them. They took our place with the First Tree; some of us have never forgiven that, and none of us have forgotten it. I neither like nor dislike a Kuakgan. I respect him.”
Paks stretched her legs, then her arms. She was glad they would not have to travel that night.
“You had best sleep,” the elf said. “I will watch.”
4
Paks did not see the rangers before they stepped into the clearing; their soft green and tawny cloaks and tunics, patterned in muted shades of the same colors, hid them well in the woods. Haleron greeted them.
“Here I am back, friends, from Tsaia, with a recruit for you for the summer. This is Paksenarrion, a proven warrior.”
“Greetings to you, lady,” said the tallest of the rangers. “Do you know our tongue?”
“Yes, by the kindness of Ardhiel of the Kierin Vale,” replied Paks, as formally as she could. He nodded to her, with a brief smile, and turned back to Haleron.
“We thank you, Haleron, for your help, though we had hoped for more than one.”
Haleron frowned, and shot a quick glance at Paks. She had the feeling he wished she didn’t speak the language. She started to speak, but could think of nothing to say. The tall one noticed her discomfort, and gave her another smile.
“It is not that we think you are unable, Paksenarrion, but we lost so many to the fever that were you a demigod you might find more than you could do. May I ask what experience you have had? Haleron’s word is enough for your character, but each sword has its own virtue.”
Paks had expected some such question; she hoped her hesitation would be laid to the unfamiliar language. “Sir—”
“My pardon!” he interrupted. “You have not had the courtesy of our names yet. I am Giron, of mixed elf and human parentage, as are most of us. And these are Phaer, Clevis, Ansuli, and Tamar.” The others nodded to Paks, and she nodded back. “Now, if you will?”
The pause had restored her calm. “Yes, sir. I was in Duke Phelan’s Company for three campaign seasons, as an infantry soldier. Then—for a few months—on my own—” She was reluctant to bring up the elfane taig.
Haleron was not. “Do not be modest, Paksenarrion. Giron, she freed our brother and the elfane taig—you know that tale.”
“Indeed! You are that Paksenarrion, then. I had heard that you went from that to the Girdsmen at Fin Panir.”
Paks nodded. “I did. I trained with them for half a year, and then rode with the expedition to Kolobia.”
“And was Luap’s stronghold found?” Giron seemed genuinely interested.
“Yes.” Paks felt her throat tighten; she did not want to tell these strangers all that had happened. Again Haleron broke into the conversation.
“Paksenarrion was staying with the Kuakgan of Brewersbridge when I came there. She had recovered from old wounds under his healing; he recommended her to me.”
“Ah.” Giron looked hard at Paks. “You left the Girdsmen, then. Why?” From his tone and look, she thought he must have heard something, and wondered which tale it had been, and whether false or true.
“I could not fight, for a long time. They—I—thought I might never be able to again. So I left.”
“The Kuakgan healed what the Girdsmen could not?” Paks nodded. “Mmm. You have left a lot unsaid, Paksenarrion. Can you fight now? We need no ailing rangers; we have enough of those.”
“I think so, sir.”
“We have come from Brewersbridge as fast as I would have cared to come alone,” said Haleron.
“That may be, but—” He shook his head, and smiled ruefully. “We need help, yet I must not accept someone who cannot serve our need. People change, as swords weaken and break. I judge that you do not fully trust yourself; how then can I trust you?”
“The Kuakgan—” murmured Haleron softly.
“The Kuakgan! You yourself have no love for the Kuakkganni; shall I let an old man in a distant grove choose my sword-companion? Whose blood will run to the tree-roots if he is wrong? Not his, I daresay!”
For an instant everyone was still as Giron’s anger roiled the glade; the sun seemed to fade slightly. Paks wished desperately for the leap of anger she knew she would have felt a year ago—for the courage to confront him and demand a chance. It did not come. She was aware of the others staring at her, aware of their scorn, only barely withheld. She could almost see herself through their eyes: rumpled, dirty, threadbare clothes, boots worn thin, no weapons at all. Not much of a warrior, to look at. Suddenly she found it almost funny. How was it that nothing of her past had stuck to her—that nothing remained of the armor and weapons she had used, nothing of the skills she had learned?
She found herself smiling at Giron. “Sir, while each warrior wishes to choose a weapon for his hand, it is foolish to choose one by looks alone. The blade with ‘I am a champion’ inscribed down the rib may be a piece of fancy-work done for a prince’s court. Gird himself found that a length of hearth-wood could fell a knight, were it applied to his skull. Perhaps all that’s left to me is to be a rough club: but if you have the skill to use the skills I have left, that would be better than no one at all. However, please yourself. I can walk back to Brewersbridge, even without Haleron’s guidance.”