Kerian watched her husband twirl an ash twig in his fingers. The shield-shaped foliage reminded her of the falls of leaves they had encountered in Khur on more than one occasion. For a long time, the presence of Faeterus had colored her view of any magic they encountered. Finally she understood the sorcerer was only one of the sources of magic that had been at work around them. The falls of ash leaves had been caused by another. Gilthas had told her of the strange rain of edible ash leaves which had saved the nation from starvation in the desert. The powerful force that had intervened to save Alhana’s life at Redstone Bluffs may have been a third. Whatever their source, the different magics seemed to have counter-acted each other, allowing the elves to win through.
Gilthas let the ash twig drop from his hands as the human prisoner arrived. Jeralund gaped at the bounty arranged around the throne.
Gilthas ordered his bonds removed then asked politely, “Are you well?”
Jeralund said he was. The Great Change had healed his relatively minor injuries too.
“Have you any reason to complain of your treatment here?”
“No, Speaker.”
Gilthas leaned back in his chair and gestured for Jeralund to help himself from a nearby bowl of fruit. Drink was brought. Soon the sergeant was sipping rich red berry juice.
“Although you were the consort of an assassin, I have chosen to parole you.”
Jeralund choked on a mouthful of juice. Gilthas had had his suspicions about the human-plainly a soldier and not the type to enter Inath-Wakenti on his own. Kerian’s description of the killing of Faeterus smacked of a Nerakan plot. The sergeant’s reaction confirmed that theory. Exactly why the Order wanted Faeterus dead, Gilthas didn’t know.
“I release you for one purpose: to return to your masters and tell them what you have seen here.”
Jeralund wiped juice from his lips. He regarded the Speaker thoughtfully for a moment then repeated, “Tell them what I have seen?”
“In every detail. I wish it known in Neraka that we have recovered from our time in Khur. Tell them of our new strength and our new riches; then tell them to darken our doorstep no more.”
With freedom in his hands, Jeralund did an odd thing. He spoke the truth.
“Why should the lords of Neraka heed your command, Speaker?” he said. “Why shouldn’t they gather their armies and seize this fertile land for themselves?”
Gilthas glanced at Kerian. The Great Change had healed her griffon’s eye, and Eagle Eye stood like a fierce statue by his mistress’s right hand. Kagonesti and griffon wore similar expressions of proud disdain. It did not escape the Speaker’s notice that Jeralund kept darting uncertain looks in their direction. It was impossible to know which of them unnerved him more.
“Your masters will not come here,” Gilthas finally replied. “The same power that changed a sterile wasteland into a garden is still here. Consider what might happen should that power be unleashed with unfriendly intent.”
“If you have such power, why not use it now to extinguish your enemies forever?”
“I am tired of war. I want to build a nation, not conquer others. Tell your lords that too. If they let us be, we will let them be. Move against us, and the consequences will be dire.”
Jeralund bowed with rough grace and vowed to deliver the Speaker’s message as dictated.
After he had been escorted away, Kerian asked, “How do you know he’ll do what you ask? His masters don’t welcome ultimatums. He may turn south and never see Neraka again.”
“It might be more effective for us if he does just that. If he spreads his tale among those he meets along the way, the story will reach Neraka through a thousand channels instead of only one. The knights may be more likely to believe it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You are devious,” she said. She meant it as a compliment.
The human spy dealt with, Kerian swung onto Eagle Eye’s back. A question had been nagging her since the Great Change. Consultation with the high priestess Sa’ida had not supplied an answer. To quiet her concerns, a return to Mount Rakaris was in order.
Before she took off, Gilthas asked how she was feeling. It was a question he asked frequently these days. Kerian had been up at dawn, losing what remained of her dinner the night before.
“I’m fine,” she said sourly. “And no, I don’t want an apple.” He had acquired an annoying tendency to press food upon her at every turn.
“Fruit is good for you.”
“Did I say you were devious? I meant cruel,” she shot back. She and Eagle Eye took wing.
