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A mannerly knock upon the side of the stone hall-arch heralded the Elder. “One seeks entrance,” Caelgor said, in the southron tongue.
At least he was courteous. “Then enter, and be welcome.”Though I like not your advent.
No armor, no weapons, merely a blue tunic and easy-fittingtrousers, boots of Elder make and a silver fillet holding back his fair hair, Caelgor the Hunter—so they named him, since it was ever his joy to ride with hounds even if there were nothing to be flushed or taken—stepped over the threshold and bowed with every evidence of respect. The horn alone was still at his belt, a restrained jewel-glittering curve shining with Elder skill. His ears were just as pointed as Aeredh’s, and the shape of his chin much like his brother’s. Both had long narrow noses, too, but Caelgor’s gaze was far more meditative, and his restraint of Curiaen the Subtle—for so the Elder named that younger scion, regarding him skilled in the making of ornament and weapon—spoke of patience and forethought.
A rash man, even among the Elder, may be tempted to mistake. It is those whowaitone must be most cautious of.
“Many thanks, child of Hralimar’s house.” He straightened, and his gaze passed over the room in a swift arc. At the time I thought he disliked to see Secondborn in a place more suited to Elder grace. Later, I would see the same look upon men taking in terrain where a battle must be joined. “I would begin by offering apology. My brother does not like the son of Aerith overmuch and the house of Naras even less; I am not fond of either. Yet you are a guest here, and should not have been treated so.”
You called me a Secondborn witch, my lord.“We have been brought hence by chance and do not know your land or customs, my lord Caelgor of the Elder.” Watching my mother use a few fair words to restore peace in a hall stuffed brimful of angry, prideful warriors was good training for this. “Whatever lies between you and our companions I do not share, and neither does my shieldmaid.”
Arn tapped her spear’s blunt end once to agree, and the sound was sharp in the dim hush.
“Well spoken.” He did not move past the door. “I knew Hralimar some little; he was doughty for a Secondborn, and did what he had sworn to. I think we might find each other of use, my lady—Solveig, is it?”
“Solveig, daughter of Gwendelint,” Arn answered. “Volvaof Dun Rithell.”
To prove it, I lifted my hands. My sleeves fell back, and the bandsupon my wrists, runes between their roof and floor, were clearly visible. “And with me stands the shieldmaid Arneior of Dun Rithell, taken by the Black-Wingéd Ones.”
“Interesting indeed. I am Caelgor, third of the seven sons of Faevril.” Another bow, his handling of the southron language improving almost between each word. “May the stars shine upon the hour of our meeting.”
“May the Allmother have it so.” The proper reply in the Old Tongue slipped free before I could halt its passage, as I replaced my hands upon the chair’s back.
“Ah.” His smile turned gracious, and perhaps even charming. “So they do remember somewhat in the South. May I enter, and speak?”
I can hardly bar your passage, though Arn might like to try.“This is your home, my lord.”
“Is it? They call my brothers and me the Great Dispossessed, for our father gave up any claim to kingship before the Sun rose. But that is no tale for tender ears.” He glided into the room, careful as a forest creature stepping from tree-shelter into meadow. “So, this is your… shieldmaid?” He all but tasted the word, pronouncing it with care. “I wonder how such a creature came to be, for the mark of the Blessed is upon her in a way I have not seen among our kind, or even themajaiar. And you are said to bealkuine. A strange pair.”
Were there truly no shieldmaids in the North? “If it pleases Arneior, she will tell you of her kind,” I said, steadily enough. “I amvolva. I have performed the silent tasks; I am also elementalist. It may be what you and Lord Aeredh callalkuine.” I did not think it wise, before this particular Elder, to claim a title belonging to his dead father.
“He would not bring you here, were he not certain indeed.” Caelgor’s smile could be counted a handsome sight, had I not witnessed his treatment of Eol and Aeredh. My feelings upon our traveling companions were far from kind at the moment, and yet their welcome in the palace hall irked me. “Which leads me to wonder what proof he has; I am told you performed a trick or two fleeing one of the Enemy’s war-bands.”
Arn all but vibrated with irritation behind me. My mother andIdra agreed a man who insults a woman once will try the trick again, unless met vigorously indeed upon the first offense. This was no worse than a petty warlord or a man from a neighboring greathall expressing polite disbelief in order to strengthen his position during trade, peace, or marriage negotiations. I held my tongue, for he had not uttered a question.
Perhaps it was childish of me. The Elder live long indeed, and to one such as he I was no better than a swaddled babe—less, even, for their kind are said to be born knowing much. Yet silence is a weapon in and of itself, and I had few enough to gainsay whatever Northerners or Elder wished to do.
Even Arn’s spear might not deter either; ’twas my responsibility to keep us both in whatever safety could be found. So I fixed an Elder many times my paltry mortal years with a steady look, and hoped my patience would outlast his.
Remove All Doubt
Great was Faevril’s wrath, and too rash his pursuit. When they found him upon the smoking heath many of the Enemy’s fell creatures lay dead by his hand, but his armor and flesh were both rent and he died within sight of the Fangs. Some say his body disappeared into ash, consumed by the flame of his spirit, but his sons do not speak of his passing. And they were the only witnesses.
—Gaemirwen of Dorael
The silence was not quite heavy, but it was marked. Finally, Caelgor nodded, as Idra might when I had passed some small test. His hands flickered, a gleam appearing between them, and I did not miss the breath ofseidhras he produced the article from some hidden place. “Will you do me an honor?”
“If I may,” I replied, cautiously. “I am a guest here, and bound to honor all I can.”
The blond Elder halted a fair distance from us, perhaps because Arneior took a single step to the right, assuring herself of combat-space. It was warning enough, and if I know my small one, she was glaring at him with no respect for age, wisdom, or power.
So far as she was concerned he was, though Elder, only a man. And those creatures are not held in any great esteem by the Black-Wingéd Ones who comb every battlefield for brave souls, leaving thecowards to Hel’s lowest holdings.
“My father made this.” Caelgor presented the gleam for my inspection. A bright silvery orb, its surface scored with strange supple lines, rested in his palm. “’Tis a treasure brought over the sea before the first rising of the Sun, though but a small one. I wondered if you might open it for me.”
“What does it hold?” So thiswasa trial, and one he arrived alone to administer. I kept my hands where they were, resting upon the chair’s back; the carving was not quite sharp enough to bite yet. The orb glinted, a faint shimmer moving through those deep fluid lines. They shifted lazily, as if it rotated of its own will.
“Nothing harmful.” He tilted his palm slightly, gazing at the thing; its gleam underlit his face and glowed in his pupils. “Should you open it, my lady Secondborn, my brother and I offer you—and your shieldmaid—our protection and escort.”
