Once she felt ready enough, she forced herself into a sitting position and then out of bed and onto her feet. She hurt everywhere, and the effort would have been too much for a less determined person. But she could not abide not knowing how things stood, and so she gritted her teeth against her agony and weakness, dressed herself in the singed and bloodied clothes that had been removed and placed on a chair, strapped on the weapons that lay on the floor next to them, and stumbled from the room into the corridor beyond.
She was somewhat strengthened by a self-administered infusion of Druid magic meant to deaden pain and accelerate healing—a basic tool of any Druid, though not one she was especially proficient with. But it lent her a certain steadiness as she moved down the corridor, taking her time, peering into rooms filled with injured men and women who had been brought back from the battle, treated, and then bedded down under care from Healers and their assistants. She paused a few times to take in the numbers and watch the efforts of the caregivers before continuing on. No one tried to stop her. No one paid her any attention at all. Everyone was too busy with the needs of other patients to worry about one who was upright and wandering about in a functional condition.
Eventually she reached an area at the front of the building where a handful of Elven Hunters engaged in transporting the injured back from the Valley of Rhenn were taking a short break before heading out again. Normally, there wouldn’t have been time for this effort in the midst of a battle, and it made her wonder anew what had happened in the valley since she had been returned to Arborlon.
She approached a grizzled veteran she recognized from the training field who was standing by the doorway and peering out into the rain. The day—or what was left of it—was dark and gloomy, and the rainfall on the other side of the walls a steady downpour.
The Elf glanced at her and immediately straightened. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be up. In fact, you should be dead.”
“I’m hard to kill,” she answered.
“So it appears. But would you mind not testing that theory? I’m one of those unfortunates who had to haul you back here. You were not in such good condition.”
She nodded. “Thanks for your efforts. Can you tell me how things stand out there?”
He shrugged. “The fighting’s stopped for the moment, and both sides are pretty much right where they were at dawn. We almost lost the pass a few times, but the warships got the best of those things trying to force their way into the valley. Ugly stuff.”
“I imagine so. Did the dragon come back?”
“Not that I saw. You did some real damage. I don’t know that it can return now.”
She nodded. Would the Jarka Ruus attack again after dark? All this rain would make it hard to sustain watch fires, and there would be no moon or stars to provide light otherwise. It would be a perfect opportunity.
“I need to get back to the valley,” she said. “Can you find me a flit?”
“And risk the captain finding out I helped a madwoman to kill herself? Not hardly. Besides, nothing is flying in this stuff. We have to wait for it to clear. All of us, I might add, which includes you. Get back in bed. Sleep some more.”
“I’m all slept out,” she said, glancing around.
“Then pretend. Captain said to take good care of you when he sent you back here. He said we’re going to need you healthy enough to come back strong by morning. Maybe sooner.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “All right. Come wake me if there’s any news. If anything happens. A night attack, especially.”
He nodded and looked away, studying the rainfall, not saying any more. He wouldn’t do a single thing to wake her unless the enemy was right outside the door, she thought. He probably had orders from Aresh to that effect. Maybe all of them did. She turned away and, ignoring the old veteran’s suggestion about going back to bed, went back down the hallway to a side door and slipped out into the rain.
From there, she slogged her way over to the Home Guard barracks and tried to find Aresh. She didn’t expect she would, but wanted to try. She was told he was back from the valley, but had gone over to the palace to see how Phaedon Elessedil was doing. Apparently, both the King and Ellich Elessedil were being kept there—a concession to their status as members of the royal family—until further disposition could be made regarding their respective situations.
She paused to decide whether she was wasting her time wandering about like this and should just go back to bed as the old veteran had advised. Then she shrugged off the idea, departed the barracks, and headed down the roadway for the palace, head bent and shoulders hunched against the rain. In the storm and darkness, no one was about. With good reason, she thought. Even wearing a cloak for protection, she was soon soaked through. Her body was beginning to ache and her wounds to throb in spite of the bandages and salves. She shouldn’t be out like this, but she couldn’t make herself go back and lie around in a sickbed doing nothing. If she couldn’t get back to the valley, she could at least walk over to the palace and have a conversation with Aresh.
When she reached her destination, she was met by Home Guards who recognized her and took her inside. She was told that Aresh was in the building visiting the prisoners, but that she must remain where she was until he returned. She knew neither of them personally, and so her efforts at persuading them to make an exception were ignored. They did take her into a private room so she could change out of her drenched clothes and into a set of ill-fitting spares scrounged from a trunk, remarking on her damaged condition and mentioning they had heard all about her battle with the dragon. They told her she was an inspiration and added they were sorry they couldn’t do more to grant her request.
She smiled and said she understood.
Ten minutes later, dressed in dry clothes and in possession of an all-weather cloak, she walked past them down the hallway and into the depths of the building. Neither guard cast even a single look in her direction.
Druid magic had its advantages.
She had no clear idea where she was going, and she ended up wandering about for a time until she found a guard who had befriended her on the practice field standing watch at a closed door.
“No one is allowed back here without permission,” he said, blocking her way. “Do you have a pass?”
“No,” she answered. “I was sent to find Sian Aresh to give him a message from the Elven defensive front in the valley. I need to see him.”
He considered a moment. “I heard about the dragon. That was good work.” Then he shrugged. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be allowed to speak to the captain. He’s with the King, in his bedroom. Down the hall, around the corner left, then first left again. Big, double doors. Another guard on duty.” He gestured to the closed door behind him. “Ellich is in here.” He shook his head in disgust. “A good man, Ellich. I do my duty, but I don’t mind telling you I think this whole business is a travesty. He would never harm his brother. Everyone knows that. There’s something wrong here.”
“Agreed,” Seersha said. She bent close, lowering her voice. “Someone else is to blame for Emperowen’s murder. Any clue as to who it might be?”
The guard shook his head, lips tightening into a frown. “None. But I wouldn’t have, would I? I’m just a soldier serving out my time in the Elven Home Guard. I don’t know these people well enough to be able to guess at either the names or the number of their enemies.”