A Paladin's War

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A PALADIN'S WAR

CHAPTER TWENTY

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Featherfang

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Kedron ran hard, trees and hills flashing by in a blur, startled deer or boar or wolves barely having time to blink before he was already gone. He'd left Erik, Sorla and Sylvia late last evening, and it was still dark now, though the sky to the east was beginning to lighten.

The land flattened somewhat as he moved east and south, vaulting fallen trees and low shrubs, leaping streams as he ran, each stride spanning five yards or more. He loved running like this. He was not as fast as Master Smythe or Master Fairborn, and he would never catch Master Sunblade, but he was still ten times faster than he was before. Hisvalahummed steadily, supporting him, its glowing warmth lending him strength and speed.

Imella would feel him coming; she would no doubt have felt the arrow wound in his chest when it struck, too - Maralon was close enough to the main camp for that - and she would be relieved to know he was alright. It would be wonderful when he could put his arms around her again. Besides themelda, she and he shared another special connection; they had both been scarred by Kedron's father, if in different ways.

The sun was just below the treetops as the grey stone walls of Maralon came into view. Kedron slid to a stop at the edge of a thick copse of elm upon a tall hill, squatting beneath the low branches to catch his breath and get a look at the city.

From this position, elevated and perhaps a quarter mile from the walls, he had a fairly good view of the southwestern part of the city, though he couldn't see a great deal beyond the walls. Smoke rose from several places inside, the plumes too thick, too dark to be from household kitchens or fireplaces, or even forge fires. His heart sank to see it. Despite being a Herald city, Maralon had still been beautiful. Maybe it would be again one day.

A new presence entered his awareness, bringing him to his feet. His sword was halfway out of its sheath before he stayed his hand. A massive bronze eagle circled down out of the air just outside the copse, wings at least ten feet across. Kedron watched as the majestic creature alighted nimbly on the hillside, hopping a couple of times on great yellow, black-nailed talons to dispel the force of the landing. It looked at him curiously, head cocked to the side.

On the ground, the creature reached almost to Kedron's hip. But this was no bird, he knew. Indeed, as he watched, the eagle began to change, growing taller, feathers disappearing. He winced at the sound of bones shifting, altering shape and size, grinding into new positions.

A few seconds later, a tall, dark, slender woman stood before him, naked as the day she was born, with spiky white hair and bright amber eyes that belonged more on the eagle. She studied him for a moment, with her head tilted at the same angle as the bird's was. "You are a difficult one to follow, youngarohim." Her accent was rough, the words rounded in a way that made it hard for him to understand.

Kedron pushed his sword back into its scabbard; this Druid was one of the ones from the camp. "You've been following me?"

She took a few steps closer. "I was sent to find you. And now I have. TheAnarionwas concerned for you, though I fail to see why. You do not seem injured."

Aran was worried? Of course; Imella must have gone to him after feeling his wound. Kedron felt equal parts grateful and ashamed. Grateful to have friends that cared, ashamed he had withdrawn further resources due to his own stupidity. "Thank you," he told the Druid. Mika, he thought her name was.

"I did not do it for you," she replied bluntly. "I did what was asked."

Kedron wasn't sure what to say to that. The sun finally broke the horizon behind Mika, illuminating her fit body in an orange halo. "Did you see my men in this area? They would be waiting outside the city for me."

The Druid nodded. "I did. They are camped in the hills that way." She flung a slim arm to the east.

That meant the legion hadn't moved since he'd left them. That was good. "I must get to them," Kedron said. "Before they try and enter the city. It is dangerous in there now."

Mika made a noise of agreement. "Yes. I saw this from the air."

"Did you see any people?"

Her head swung. "I did not. I believe the city is now deserted."

Kedron exhaled in relief. "That is well, thank you." Still, he made a mental note to check Maralon himself once Mika was gone.

"Youarohimare interesting," Mika mused, coming a little closer until she stood about three feet away. She was taller by a head, looking down that bold nose at him. "I think I like you, Kedron. You are pretty enough to mate, though you are not seasoned enough to attract me fully."

Kedron blinked. "Uh, excuse me?" Seasoned? What did that mean?

At that, she turned and walked a few paces away, then began the transformation into eagle form. Kedron watched in quiet admiration as she changed, then flapped those great wings to get airborne, stirring up loose grass and leaves in her wake.

"Seasoned," he said to himself, shaking his head as he launched himself into the air, though unlike Mika, who continued to soar upward, he arced up and then down, landing at the bottom of the hill. Wasting no time, he hurried on, aiming for the city.

Aran paced back and forth across the carpets spanning the floor of Amina's big tent, his mind racing, his heart aching. Elaina, Amina and Smythe sat together on the floor nearby, watching him, waiting for him to speak. Smythe was leaning back on his hands, legs out straight, while the women each leaned against one of his shoulders. All three were in various states of undress, though less for intimacy and more for some comfort at the end of a long day. Aran was still in his shirt, breeches and boots; he'd barely given any thought to anything except his mother for the past several hours.

A light rain pattered on the white canvas overhead, usually a soothing sound, though it hardly helped now.What under the name of Aros do you think you are doing, Mother?He thought for the thousandth time that night.Trying to get yourself bloody well killed, is what.He didn't realise he'd spoken aloud until Elaina said something.

"Obviously, she is trying to help," hisamatharnrepeated patiently. She was still in her shirt, but had discarded everything else. Normally, he'd be admiring her thick, pale thighs and the way the shirt was unlaced all the way, but his belly was wriggling with worry.

"And succeeding," Amina added. She'd removed all garments and donned the traditionalvaimabefore settling down by Smythe, her head on his shoulder. Her sapphire eyes were keen as they regarded Aran. "Anything you do to intervene may very well upset her progress."

"And whatcouldyou do?" Smythe enquired gently. Shirtless, he was still in his breeches and boots. "Run off to Cathgard? Pull Mari out and save the otherarohimyourself?"

"I know, I know," Aran replied impatiently, still pacing. "It's foolish to even think about, and the consequences catastrophic. Still, it is difficult not to entertain the idea."

"That is as it should be," Elaina said softly. "You care about her. Of course you want to help her. So do I. So do we all."

Aran sighed. "I know. I just... Aros, why did it have to be now?"What better time?A calm voice said inside him. It was the small part of him that was still thinking rationally. Snatching captivearohimout from under the Herald's noses while Maloth invaded from the north? The odds of success were better, at least as long as she stayed out of Maloth's clutches.

He rounded on the others. "What if Maloth gets his hands on her? Finds out who she is?" A sickening thought gripped him. "What if he melds with her? Like he has with the others?"

Smythe grunted as if he hadn't considered this yet. Amina and Elaina both looked uncomfortable.

"I think," Elaina began slowly, carefully, "that that is a risk which must now be accepted. Our hands are tied, love."

"And what is bound can be unbound," Amina said firmly, sitting up and folding her long legs beneath her. "Just as ameldacan be undone, so then can whatever bond Maloth forms with his victims."

Aran frowned thoughtfully. He'd given this some serious thought himself, but to fully understand how Maloth's power worked, he would need to feel it, study it, and for that, he would need to secure one of Maloth'smeldin, or whatever they were called. But these thoughts were not for here, or now. Mari was more important.

Smythe put a comforting hand on Amina's shoulder. She had felt the pain of an undonemelda, and from her formeramatharn, no less. Aran could not imagine being cut off from Elaina; it was like being alive twice over, and a much stronger bond than amelda. He met her eyes, his brown against her brilliant green, and they shared a silent exchange, brief but deep.

"I hope that is true," Aran said to Amina. Finally, he sat down facing them, cross-legged. "We cannot even get a message to her, can we?" It was not a real question, but he had to ask it. The shaking of three of the heads he trusted most in the world was the answer he expected, and already knew.

"She will do well, I think," Amina intoned thoughtfully. "And she has the very best of help."

That was the opening Aran needed, both for the distraction, and for his curiosity. "Tell me about him, please," he asked Amina. "Bennak Thunderblade."

Amina's usually composed face grew sober, as if remembering things long forgotten. "He was - is - a great and proud Paladin, and very powerful. Headstrong to a fault, too. I did not know he escaped thecar'mori."

She was talking about the Darkening, the poisoning of thevalathat happened when Darius - Aran's ancestor - first melded with the Demoness Morgeth. Mostarohimhad been infected, only a lucky few escaping.

"In all the years since," Amina continued, "I heard or saw nothing about any remainingarohim, Bennak included. Since learning he is alive, I have been wondering where he has been all this time."

"Thunderblade," Smythe said as if tasting the name. "Grandiose Truename if I ever heard one."

Amina's full lips quirked. "Bennak was ever one for grandeur. He was as bad as Palavus in his own way, and the less said about that man, the better." Bitterness was not in Amina's nature, but her tone went as close as Aran had ever heard it. "His sword had the power of lightning, and when he struck a foe, you could hear the thunderclap a mile away. That is how he was anointed with the Truename Thunderblade."

Elaina's eyes lit up. "I've never heard of avala-forged weapon like this."

"It was a rare piece, even in those times," Amina said. "But who knows if he still possesses it."

Smythe chuckled. "Sounds like he's kept the name at least."

Aran frowned then, realising there was something he'd completely missed. He fixed Smythe with an intent stare. "You know something, mate? I have no idea what your Truename is, or why you don't use it."

All eyes went to Smythe, and it was his turn to look uncomfortable. Aran hoped he hadn't made a mistake by bringing it up. Elaina, still with her head on his broad shoulder, gave him an encouraging pat on his hairy chest. So, Elaina knew, and judging by Amina's apparent lack of curiosity, so did she.

"I gave it up," Smythe replied after a long moment, his hawk-nosed face sombre. He seemed prepared to say more, so Aran waited patiently, but when Smythe opened his mouth to speak, the tent flap moved aside to let Noah in. Or at least his bushy, bearded head. The hunter kept his grey eyes down out of respect, though there was no need for such deference from him. He'd been outside, keeping an eye on the tent with the intention of protecting Elaina from any harm, though there was little he could do that fourarohimcould not manage. Still, there was no need to point this out to him; it would only hurt his feelings.

"Apologies for the intrusion," Noah said quickly. "But Imella and Lena have delivered news that Kedron is well on the mend and moving back toward camp."

Relief washed over Aran, and he felt the same in the others.

"Thank you, my love," Elaina said to Noah, gracing him with a warm smile. "This is wonderful to hear."

Noah lifted his eyes enough to regard her. "I suspected you may wish to hear it at once, so I did not delay." He held her emerald eyes for a second longer before disappearing.

"So, Kedron is alright," Smythe said with a proud smile. "Good lad. Must have had a superb mentor."

Elaina chuckled. "I think he just learned such stubbornness from you that even death doesn't bother with him; it's just too much effort."

Smythe barked a laugh. "Likely true, lass, likely true. Speaking of stubborn, when are you going to knock the formality out of that fellow out there? I feel like I'm in a court half the time I'm around him."

Elaina sighed. "Slowly but surely, Henley."

Aran wondered how Kedron had fared in Maralon. No sooner had the thought entered his mind than voices outside floated into the tent. Noah was telling someone they couldn't enter without permission.

"It's alright, Noah!" he called without getting up. "She can enter."

Two seconds later, the tent flap was brusquely pulled aside to allow Mika through. She strolled in proudly, keen eyes taking in the fourarohimbefore settling on Aran. "I have completed your task,Anarion." She said in a tone that bordered on rudeness, if you weren't used to Druids. No wonder she and Noah did not get along.

Aran stood, not wanting to keep craning his neck to look up at her. "Thank you," he replied. "What did you find?"

She rolled her shoulders and winced as if they were aching. "A part of the city has fallen into the ground."

"How bad is it?" Smythe asked, looking concerned.

"It is only one small part of a very large city," Mika answered nonchalantly. "I expected things to be much worse."

"Did you see Kedron, Mika?" Elaina enquired, sitting up.

"I did," she replied, working her neck around now. Maybe all the flying had taken its toll on her muscles. "He was alone, but unharmed as far as I could tell."

Alone? Where were Sorla and the others? Hurriedly, he focused on the light inside his mind that held Sorla. She was far away, but perhaps a little closer than a couple of hours ago when last he'd checked. Kedron may have had to leave her behind for some reason. It had better have been a good reason. He'd felt pleasure from her late yesterday, a subtle sensation from this distance, but still detectable. Circumstances couldn't be too dire if she was in the mood to make love.

"Did you deliver my message?" Aran asked Mika.

"Yes. The soldiers at Senna are now marching to join those at Maralon."

"Good," Aran said. That would give Kedron another three thousand men, a useful force to keep in the south. "And what of the people of the city? Did you see any trace of them at all?"

Mika shrugged. "Perhaps. The land was disturbed in a long trail leading away from the city, heading eastward. I did see a few clusters of camps between here and there. If I must guess, I would say they are moving toward us."

Another knot loosened in Aran's shoulders. "Also good. And we must gather them and prepare for their arrival. Shelter must be given, and weapons assigned to men and women who can fight. Tasks will be arranged for those who can't." He turned to Elaina. "Would you see to this, please?"

She was on her feet at once. "I will." There was not even a shred of reluctance reflected in themeldaat the night's rest being cut short.

While Elaina was pulling on her breeches, Smythe and Amina got up, too. "I must check on thepar'vala," Amina announced as she crossed the tent to where her cloak was hanging on a stout post. She eyed Aran carefully as she threw it around her shoulders. "I trust you are more settled about the present problem, now?"

She was talking about Mari. He wouldn't say settled, but he had had time to digest the fact that his mother was in mortal danger of her own volition, and there was nothing he could - or should - do about it. It was like swallowing manure, but he nodded.

Amina's face softened a little, and she came up to him, and touched his face. "The winds of fate rarely blow the way we would prefer," she told him quietly before brushing a soft kiss on his lips. "But if she raised you, then Mari is a good and capable woman. And if Bennak is still the man I remember, she is safe as can be with him at her side."

"Thank you," Aran replied, kissing her back before she turned away.

Elaina replaced her, now properly clothed and booted. She kissed him, too, but much more firmly. "See you soon." Simple words, but her big emerald eyes and themeldacarried wagon loads of love and understanding.

"You'll get no kiss from me," Smythe announced as he pulled his shirt on. Mika - standing off to one side - watched him with interest.

"I'll survive," Aran replied wryly. "Where are you headed?"

"To bed, I think," he said, casting an eye over Mika. She grinned and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back, making sure he had a good view of her body. "I'm enjoying my nights with Elsa, and I'll take as many as I can, while I can."

"Good idea," Aran said, clapping him on the shoulder.

The big Paladin left, leaving him and Mika alone. One look at her face told Aran she only had one thing on her mind. "I'm sorry, Mika, but I cannot give you what you want, tonight." He wouldn't have minded any other time, but tonight, he just wanted to be with hismeldin.

Mika bristled for a moment, then calmed herself. "They say the very best mates are the ones who are hardest to catch." She swayed over to him almost haughtily. "I shall keep coming,Anarion, until my talons find your flesh."

Aran chuckled. Her persistence was admirable. "I hope that is a metaphor, Mika."

Her smile was slow. "We shall see."

He watched her slim ebony back and firm bottom saunter from the tent, then sighed. He remembered a time when all he seemed to do was travel the land, fight monsters and make love to beautiful women. That was not the truth of things, but sometimes he dreamed of those days, before he took on the mantle ofAnarionand became the leader of so many people.

Wanting some fresh air to help clear his head, he stepped outside Amina's tent and breathed deeply, taking in the smell of horses and wood smoke and recent rain and the aromas of a hundred different meals being cooked over as many fires in every direction. Thearohimtents were usually always near the centre of camp, with the rest of the factions spread around them.

It was only a short walk to his own tent, but he decided he wanted some time alone, first. Gathering himself, he leaped high, aiming northwest, clearing the camp in a single jump to land on a small rise maybe thirty yards beyond the outer Elvish tents.

A small ten-man patrol made up of Elves, Dwarves and Orcs started when he landed not far from them, and the two Elves in the group had arrows nocked and ready to fly before Aran called out and raised his hands, keeping them well clear of his sword. The arrows would not touch him if they were loosed, but there was no need to make the men look silly. "Ho, at ease!"

A Paladin's War Ch. 20

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