She didn't understand why she had to turn her home over to Captain Wilhusen, but it was clear she had little choice.
"Where can we go?" she asked. "We can't stay in the kingdom. We can't go north to Bragi's people. We've all got enemies in Iwa Skolovda, Dvar and Prost Kamenets. And we can't go south if Greyfells' partisans want us."
"Enemies all around us, yes," said Turran. "The Minister has offered to let you use his estate on the Auszura Littoral."
"We can't get there from here."
"We can, but it'll be hard."
"How?"
"One way is through Driscol Fens, over the Silverbind, through Shara, south to the Lesser Kingdoms, then down the River Scarlotti to the coast."
"Which means sneaking past Prost Kamenets, then hoping we can get out of Shara without being murdered or enslaved. I trust the alternative's more palatable."
"You go west through the forests to the Minister's manor at Sieveking, then catch a naval transport going south. It looks easier, but there're problems. First, this vessel's too small to let you take any personal effects. Second, it's lightly armed and has a small crew. It wouldn't stand off a determined pirate. There are still some around in the Red Islands."
"A dilemma with more horns than a nine-headed stag.-I'll talk it over with my people. And Nepanthe. Her lot will have to go too, I suppose." "Of course."
ii) Walk to the coast
With one exception, the people chose to abandon everything to Captain Wilhusen. The exception was Bevold Lif. The Freylander refused to budge. They had survived bandits, wolves, weather, and war, he declared, and he would survive Greyfells' political successors. He was staying. Somebody had to keep the soldiers from stealing the silverware.
They left the grant with little but food and clothing. Preshka was the only adult not walking. He rode a donkey. The forest paths were impassable for wagons and horses.
The way led within forty miles of Itaskia, and for two days they had to travel open farmlands above the capital, hurrying to cross a strait of civilization which ran north to Duchy Greyfells and West Wapentake, a strait that separated two great islands of forest in the midlands. Unfriendly eyes found them there. As they reached the western forest, they spied the dust of many riders.
"You think they'll wait for us on the other side?" Elana asked.
Turran shrugged. "They don't know where we'll come out."
"How much figuring would it take? They know where the Minister's place is..."
"But we've got the jewel. We can slip past them in the dark."
"You hope. You said you'd tell me about it."
"Later."
"It's later. Talk."
"All right. After I make sure they don't come in after us. Go on a few miles. We'll catch up."
She took the trail-breaker's position, following a path tramped by generations of deer. Valther followed her, hand on sword hilt but eyes faraway, as if he were remembering another retreat. Turran had promised to tell that tale too.
After posting sentries she sat with Rolf, who was pale with discomfort. Valther remained near her, as he always did when Turran was absent.
"How're you feeling?" she asked, laying one hand on Rolf's.
"Miserable." He coughed softly. "Lung's never going to be right."
"Think we'll make it?"
"Don't worry. It's out of our hands. We will or we won't. Depends on how much manpower they want to waste. They're not stupid. Catching us won't change the big picture."
"Tell me about Kavelin. I've never been there."
"I've told what's to tell. Except that it'd be a nice country if someone skimmed off about fifty thousand Nordmen and ambitious commoners. I liked it. Might settle there if Bragi straightens them out."
"You think he can? I mean, sixteen hundred men against a whole country, and maybe El Murid?"
"Sixteen hundred plus Bragi, Mocker, and Haroun."
"Who're only men. Rolf, I'm scared. It's been so long since I was on my own."
"I'm here. I'll always be here... I'm sorry."
"No, don't be. I understand. Ah, here's Turran."
The man came over, squatted by his brother, said, "Well, no worse. I was afraid being chased would hurt... Oh, they've posted watchers, but the rest went south again. Guess they'll wait on the other side. How're you making it, Rolf? Pushing too hard?"
"I'll survive. Iwa Skolovdans are fiesty."
Turran smiled wanly. "Won't lay down and die, that's sure." Once, briefly, he had been master of that city. "Might as well make camp. We could do a few more miles, but we'll be better off for the rest. Especially the children."
Elana snorted. "Not Ragnar. Nor Ethrian. They've put in more miles than any of us. But maybe you'll find time to tell the story you've been promising."
Turran's dark eye went to Valther. "All right. After supper."
"I'll tell Nepanthe."
iii) War in the east
"I suppose the story begins," Turran told an audience of Elana, Nepanthe, Preshka, and Uthe and Dahl Haas, "when Valther talked Brock and me into going to Hellin Daimiel. Jerrad wouldn't go. He went back to the mountains. I guess he's probably hunting and trying to rebuild Ravenkrak. Fool. Anyway, in Hellin Daimiel we were approached by a representative of the Monitor of Escalon. He was recruiting westerners to help in a war.
"We became part of a devil's catch of hedge wizards, assassins, mercenaries, and marginal types that might be useful in a wizard's war.
"It was a long journey east. By the time we reached Tatarian, Escalon's capital, there were a thousand of us.
"We found out that the country was at war with Shinsan. Escalon was strong, but no match for the Dread Empire.
"Escalon was losing. The whole kingdom lay under a siege of night. Demonic, poisonous hordes of hell-things fought for both sidles.
"We foreigners were thrown in right away. And we stalled Shinsan for a while. But then they started advancing again.
"The Monitor decided to chance everything on one vast thaumaturgic battle. It defies description. It lasted nine days. When it was over an area as big as Itaskia had been wasted. Millions died. In Escalon only Tatarianand the major cities survived. In Shinsan, we don't know. We hadn't lost, but we hadn't won, and that, in the long run, meant our defeat.
"It was during that battle that we lost Brock. We got too involved to look out for ourselves. An arrow got through and wounded him.
"That it had been loosed a thousand miles away in Shinsan was no excuse. We'd been provided with ways of sensing the attack. We just didn't pay attention.
"The wound was minor, but the shaft bore soul-devouring spells. In the end he begged us to give him a clean death."
Turran paused for a moment, locked in his memories.
"Afterwards, the Monitor decided Escalon was lost. He summoned Valther and me. He told us that Shinsan would turn on Matayanga next. He believed the world's hope, ultimately, lay in the west because Yo Hsi and Nu Li Hsi had been destroyed here. What he was trying to do, he told me, was to buy time. He hoped somebody like Varthlokkur or the Star Rider would see what was happening and do something about the west's political choas.
"That's when he gave me the jewel, Elana. The one I sent you. You've been using it for a warden, its least important power.
"The Monitor believed it was one of the Poles of Power. How he came by it I don't know, and I don't think it really is a Pole, but one thing's sure. It's important. I saw him use it. He could move mountains... He wanted me to get it to the Star Rider. But I don't think so. I don't know why. When this's over, I'm going to try to take it to Varthlokkur. He knows the Dread Empire. I think he'd have the best shot at stopping them."