Frostfell

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The Endless Wastes

Dawn was no more than a dim gloom bleeding through the deep darkness. Huddled near the fire, unable to sleep, Amira clutched her staff tight. In the back of her mind, she knew that far beyond the storm the sun was rising in the east. Part of her welcomed the knowledge that somewhere out there, light still shone through open skies and brought warmth to the land, even if she could not feel it here. But the foremost part of her mind dreaded the coming of dawn. At first light-or what would pass for it today-the last of the scouts would return, and they would set their plan into motion. Regret and worry tugged at her heart, and she cursed herself for agreeing to the belkagen's plan. Not the taking of the fight to the enemy. In that, she was steadfast. But after the hag's departure, their council had resumed, and after much debate, the old elf had put forth his plan.

"The Vil Adanrath should attack Iket Sotha in force. Be seen. Draw our enemies to you." He hesitated-in hindsight Amira knew why-then looked to her. "You should lead them, Lady Amira." She opened her mouth to respond, but Leren beat her to it. "Her? The people speak of the prowess she showed in battle, but outlanders do not lead the Vil Adanrath." "Lady Amira led the forces of her people against the Horde," said the belkagen. "None doubt her courage or prowess. But many days ago she was taken captive by an oathless slaver. A man little more than a common bandit bound her and made her his slave."

Amira considered pointing out that she'd been taken by surprise and that Walloch had been much more than a "common bandit." A slaver he might have been, but he'd studied the lore of Raumathar for years and had turned out to be quite a formidable wizard in his own right. All this was true, and although it stung her pride, she kept her mouth shut. In this, she agreed with Leren. Let the Vil Adanrath fight their own way. Her place was with Jalan. "But," the belkagen continued,

"that was before she sought Hro'nyewachu. Lady Amira is chosen." "She does not bear the… the uwethla," said one of the Vil Adanrath women. "I am sorry, Lady Amira, I do not know your words for this."

The woman stood, pulled back her cloak, and much to Amira's shock lifted her buckskin shirt to display her torso and breasts. Like Haerul, her skin was a mass of black, blue, and green inks, but over them were red runes that seemed to drink in the light of the fire. She sat back down. "Lady Amira is not omah. Are you saying she is belkagen?" Her cheeks burning, Amira glanced down at her son. If the sight of a comely woman lifting her shirt before him disturbed him at all, he didn't show it. He simply stared into the fire, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. The belkagen nodded as if considering the woman's words, then said, "I hear you, Turha. No, Lady Amira is not omah, nor is she belkagen. In truth…" He paused letting his words hang. "In truth, I do not know what she is. Not in all my years, nor the times of my greatest grandfathers, has an outlander sought Hro'nyewachu and lived. Yet here she is. The omah nin himself bore witness to her journey. Would any here doubt the word of the omah nin?" There were several gathered who had arrived lately and had not been there at the Mother's Bed. They looked to their high chief. He did not return their gaze but fixed his stare on the belkagen. "The belkagen speaks the truth," said the omah nin. "Lady Amira entered the cave in darkness and emerged at dawn." "But do we know she saw Hro'nyewachu?" asked another omah. The omah nin gave him a hard look but said nothing. "You doubt the word of the omah nin?" said Leren.

"Of the belkagen?" The elf looked at Amira and shook his head. "I do not. But as you have said, this is most strange. Never in all our days have we heard such a thing. It is a hard bite to swallow." Another opened his mouth to speak, but the belkagen cleared his throat. The younger elf shut his mouth, and all eyes turned to the belkagen. "I hear you," he said. "Turha spoke truly. Lady Amira does not bear the uwethla. Such was not the gift of Hro'nyewachu. But do not think that Amira left giftless." He turned to Amira. "Lady, stand and present the staff." All eyes turned to Amira. Her heart hammering in her chest, she reluctantly peeled Jalan off her side and stood. The staff was longer than she was tall, but she had kept most of it huddled inside the cloak with her. She thrust off the side of her cloak, a blast of cold hit her, and she raised the staff before her. The light from the fire caught in the gold-red wood and flickered along its length. The runes etched along the staff's surface blazed, and Amira heard several of the gathered elves gasp. "What is this, Belkagen?" said the omah nin, and even his proud voice held a tone of awe. "When Hro'nyewachu gave this to Amira," said the belkagen, "these were her words: 'It will sharpen the bite she gives her enemies.' Thus I name the staff Karakhnir. It was Hro'nyewachu herself who counseled us to take Amira's son to the Witness Tree in Iket Sotha, and it was Hro'nyewachu who gave Amira this staff to hurt those who would hurt her son. Do we doubt the word of our people's most sacred heart?" That silenced all argument. Feeling suddenly exposed and on display, Amira lowered the staff and sat back down beside her son. "We make war upon the Fist of Winter and their minions," the belkagen continued. "Hro'nyewachu bids us to do so and gives to Amira the weapon to lead us." He glanced around the gathering, then said, "I have spoken," and sat down. All eyes turned to the omah nin. He sat in silence a long while, looking at no one. When he looked up, his gaze fixed on Amira. "We will attack Iket Sotha as Hro'nyewachu commands. We will bring fear to our enemies. And Lady Amira will lead us. The omah nin has spoken."

"Wait!" said Amira. "No one has asked me what I think of this." Turha frowned at her. "The omah nin has spoken." Amira thought of a half-dozen ways she could point out that omah nin or no, she was not Vil Adanrath and no matter how many oracles this man consulted, he was not her lord. Instead, she said the one thing she meant most. "I'm not leaving my son. Not again. He's been taken from me twice already.

Until we've dealt with this… this monster, Jalan isn't leaving me."

The belkagen said, "Lady-" "No! Don't you 'Lady' me. You said it yourself. This staff, this Karakhnir is our best defense against these fiends who want nothing more than to take my son. I'm his best hope of staying safe." "Lady Amira, I-" But this time it was the omah nin who cut him off, simply by raising one hand. Haerul waited for silence, then said, "Your son's best hope is to kill those trying to harm him, and your best hope for doing that is to attack them before they attack you. Do you truly wish to take your son into battle?" "No, of course not, but…" The omah nin raised his eyebrows and nodded. It was the same expression her brother used to make at her when besting her in some argument, and Amira almost threw her staff at the high chief.

"Lady Amira," said the belkagen, his voice mild, "will you hear me?"

Amira looked at him, her mouth a razor-sharp line, and gave one stiff nod. "Remember the words of Hro'nyewachu. Jalan must go to the Witness Tree. Whatever is going to happen there, we must buy Jalan time. We must keep the Fist of Winter distracted at all costs. You and Karakhnir will do this like no other. The Vil Adanrath will fight, but it is you and your staff that the Fist of Winter will fear. You know this." Amira did know it, though she hated every bit of it. Sifting through the oracle's words, she grasped the last tattered string of the unraveling cloth of her argument. "I will give you the staff, Belkagen. Lead your people to victory. I will take Jalan to this Witness Tree and do… whatever must be done." The belkagen shook his head and sighed. "I cannot. The staff is for you and you alone. I will not desecrate the gift of Hro'nyewachu." And so it had been decided. And so it would begin any time now-Amira leading the first strikeforce upon Winterkeep while other packs came in from every direction. The plan was simple: Keep the enemy's attention fixed on Winterkeep. The belkagen and Lendri would take Jalan to the Witness Tree. By sunset tonight, all this would be over, one way or another.

Amira swore to her gods that Jalan would be free today, or she would be dead trying to free him.

The belkagen and Lendri came to her not long after. Amira's heart lurched, and she swallowed. The elves stopped near her fire. "It is time, Lady," said the belkagen. Amira looked down at her son. "I don't know if I can do this," she said. "You must." "Please, Belkagen," she said, her eyes welling with hot tears. "He's just a boy." "This is a cruel world, Lady," said the belkagen. "You now face what all mothers face. Your boy can be a boy no longer. You cannot protect him forever.

He must stand on his own." "I don't fear him standing on his own," she said, and the tears fell, freezing on her cheeks. "I fear him falling alone. He's not ready for this. Not yet." "He will not be alone," said Lendri. "The belkagen and I will watch over Jalan. If anything tries to harm him, it will have to take our life's blood first. If it is the will of your gods and ours that Jalan die today, he will die beside friends. That is the most anyone can ask of the gods." Amira sniffed, trying to contain her tears. She did the one thing she'd learned to do at a very young age: She turned her grief and heartbreak to anger. "I hate the godsdamned Wastes," she said. "I hate them." "She is a hard land," said Lendri, "and she breeds hard children. Take heart and give grief to your enemies." Something that was half-sob and half-chuckle shook Amira. "Ah, Lendri. Someday I'm going to introduce you to my mother. You'll learn hard then." She stepped forward, twisted a brass ring off her finger, and handed it to Lendri. "Here. Take this." The elf took it and studied it, turning it in his fingers. "What is it?"

"Something a dear friend once gave me. It's magical." "I am no wizard, Lady." "You need not be, not with this ring," she said. She explained to him what it did and how to use it. "It will work only once, so don't waste it. It may not be much, but it helped me escape from that lecherous bastard Walloch when all my best spells were spent." Lendri put the ring on the middle finger of his right hand and bowed. "Thank you, Lady. I will use this gift in service to your son." The belkagen cleared his throat and said, "Amira." "Yes?" Only a slight flutter shook her voice. "It is time. We must wake Jalan and go."