Chapter 14 - Elves

The second time was just for a few, moments. He was sure it was the movement of the wagon that had woken him, jostling him about, despite the blankets that were tucked in around him and the soft padding beneath. He imagined that someone had configured the fabric beneath him to cushion him. He was laying on his back. He knew there were others inside the wagon with him, but didn't recognize the faces around him in the darkness.

Then he realized that he couldn't feel his leg. His heart skipped a beat as he panicked, trying to get an arm down to feel for it.

"My... leg..." his voice cracked from his dry throat. How long have I been asleep? he worried to himself. Did they have to amputate? Oh Gods! My leg!

He felt a rush of panic, but then Sharnellynn was there, shushing him and running soft, cool hands over his forehead.

"It's alright, Matner. It's alright. You can't feel your leg but it's there. We put a salve on the wound and it has numbed the leg. The leg will be fine."

Then she leaned in and softly kissed him on the lips, while her hand brushed against his cheek. His panic melted away and he smiled at her. Then the darkness crept over him again and she nodded as it did.

"Rest," she told him.

"Beautiful," was his reply, although he wasn't sure if he said it out loud or in his head as he fell unconscious again.

The third time he awoke it was Miraselle sitting over him. The smell of food wafted over him almost immediately and he found himself mixed between his stomach rumbling hungrily and a feeling of nausea. He groaned, which caught Miraselle's attention. She leaned over and put a hand on his forehead for a moment, nodding. He realized that he felt a bit snug and tangled in the blankets and he was damp from sweat. He shivered a bit, suddenly feeling a chill. Miraselle pulled a couple of blankets off of him and replaced them with new ones, tucking them so that his arms were free this time.

"You seem to be over most of the fever, but you should try not to move much yet," she told him. "Let me help you with some broth."

"It's good that you bought as many blankets as you did," she said. It was dim and shadowed in the wagon, but not dark. It was also empty of other people.

Miraselle helped him sit up enough to swallow, and she placed more blankets behind him. Then she picked up a bowl and spoon. She held the spoon up for him, and he sipped some vaguely warm broth.

"How long was I out?" he asked after a few more sips.

"About two days," she answered. "Your quiet friend is recovering faster than you, but his injuries were not the same as yours. He helped drive the wagon some today. Levich has been helpful." She lifted the spoon again.

"Where are the others?" he asked after a few more sips.

"Outside, for the moment. We are still figuring out some of the sleeping arrangements. Some will sleep in here with you, some will sleep under the wagon, a few more around the fire. So far there has been no sign of pursuit, but we have been pressing onward to cover as much ground as possible." She made him drink a fair amount more of the broth before letting him ask more questions.

"That fire looked pretty bad," he said once she seemed satisfied. "I know it was supposed to look worse than it was...but it was worse than it was supposed to be, wasn't it?"

"You need to rest more," she said, not answering the question. She gently slid the blankets out from behind him and helped him lay back down. "Get some rest. Others will be coming in to sleep soon. We'll try to get an early start again in the morning. The faster you recover the better. Good night, Matner."

She took the bowl and spoon and backed away. She had to walk sideways past some of the boxes that had been rearranged. Matner could see that it was getting darker outside, and could make out the dancing yellow-and-orange-tinted light of the fire. She closed a canvas flap behind her, leaving him in shadows. He listened to the sounds of elven voices speaking quietly enough that he could not make out the words. It did not take him long to fall back asleep.

He was not woken by anyone coming into the wagon as he slept, but woke on his own shortly after dawn. There was enough light to see those asleep in the wagon and he could hear people softly moving about outside. Again, the smell of food made his stomach rumble. He supposed he hadn't had a lot of food during the two days he'd been mostly unconscious.

He was glad to see both Sharnellynn and Ahriender sleeping in the wagon next to him. There were three others, two of which were women who looked to be around the same age as Sharnellynn, although Matner couldn't be sure. The third was an older boy. Matner did some math in his head, determining how many people he had with him. With Levich, Miraselle, and Loridan, it brought their total number to 17. He frowned, realizing it was one more than their horses could handle without the wagon, even if everyone doubled up on a horse. Including Matner and Dir Ketten's horses, which had been tied to trail behind the wagon, they had eight horses. Until they could find another horse, they'd have to keep the wagon. It would still be faster than walking, overall.

He could feel his leg now, and it mostly felt stiff from not being moved. He lifted it gingerly, trying not to shift too much and wake anyone. There was a pain in his knee when he tried to bend it, but otherwise the leg seemed to be fine.

He shifted himself a little more, and inhaled sharply at the pain he felt in his right side at the movement. He eased himself back into position, but it still throbbed after that, reminding him of the injury. He wondered how long it was going to be until he could be up and about again. He felt useless lying there in the wagon. The effort of the movement, however, combined with the pain, wore him out and he relaxed back into the blankets and allowed himself to sleep some more, hoping someone would wake him for some of the breakfast.

He did wake as elves were climbing into the wagon. One did bring him some breakfast, mentioning that he would have to eat in while moving. He agreed that getting going would be good. He did not see Sharnellynn or Ahriender nearby.

A few elves helped sit him up. Someone joked that he should stay sitting up for the day because they could use the space. He held the plate of pancakes while the other clambered in.

It did get crowded. Elves sat on crates and boxes. Some remained standing. Some were litterally sitting on each others' laps. And yet in general they seemed to be trying to keep some distance from Matner. He could not tell if it was respect for not wanting to bump some injured part of him or if they were just trying to stay away from him.

None of them seemed very hurt, although there were a few who looked distinctly underfed, and all of them clearly needed a bath and a comb. Their clothes were mostly in poor shape at best. Several were holding clothes together around them and quite a few were wearing cloaks that he had bought as supplies. He noticed that the ones holding clothes together seemed more concerned about it when he might be looking than when they didn't think he was. He wondered if there was anything he could do to make them more comfortable. He had just done a lot to rescue them. He did not want them feeling awkward or uncomfortable around him.

One Elven man looked to Matner to be relatively close in age to himself, and he attempted to make some conversation with him. He was able to tell early on, however, that the Elf had been alive longer than Matner and didn't seem interested in talking. It was hard to tell if he was actually afraid of Matner or not. Most of the Elves seemed to still be acting both subserviant, and cautious. After a few more attempts at conversation, he gave up, making a mental note to himself to talk to Miraselle about it the next chance he had her alone. He was already beginning to feel that she held some sort of authority over the others. If he could convince her to talk to them on his behalf, he thought it might help.

He turned to face the wagon wall, intending to sleep for a while, but found himself thinking about Sharnellynn instead. It had taken a long time before she had finally decided to trust him. He was worried he'd have to go through proving himself to these Elves as well. He had no way of knowing how any of them had been treated, and he had rescued them from cells where most of them had been awaiting death.

How stubborn will they be? he wondered. He realized it hadn't been something he'd thought about when making the plans to rescue them. All that had mattered was getting them out of the city and out of danger. Now, suddenly, it became important. If they couldn't trust him, it would make it difficult to help them in getting to safety. And he wasn't even sure yet where that might be.

One step at a time, he told himself as his eyes began to grow heavy again. Let's get to Eerwayh first. And hopefully, while we travel there, I can convince them that I just want to help.

He slept through much of the morning, dozing in and out. He woke up a few times hearing conversations around him. Some of it was wispered and some of it was in the beautiful elven language. He found himself wondering if they were talking about him. He never heard his name, and he ended up not asking any questions of his own. He felt very awkward about it all.

When they stopped for a brief lunch Miraselle changed the bandaging on his wounds. Everything was healing well, and he was able to sit up on his own.

"The extra rest is helping, I think," she suggested. "Tomorrow you'll be able to stand, at this rate."

"Where are Sharnellynn and Ahriender?" he asked when she seemed satisfied with the new bandaging.

"There hasn't quite been room for everyone, so a few have been riding the extra horses. So far we've been able to stay at enough distance to stay discrete. Fortunately, Dir Ketten recovered quickly. Things were extremely tight when both of you were laid out in the wagon."

She left him some cold sausage and bread to eat for lunch, and he found himself alone in the wagon. He took advantage of the chance to find his bag and change into fresh clothes. He felt better changed, although he knew he needed a bath. Because of the time spent changing, he was barely done with lunch when elves started piling back in.

He was able to shift himself over to be sitting up more, which freed up some wagon space. It was enough for the elves to spread out just a little bit more, yet still they seemed to keep a little distance. It made him feel distrusted, and he found himself staring through a gap in the canvas where it met the wagon, and he watched a little strip of ground pass by in awkward silence.

He noticed that none of them talked while he was awake. While he closed his eyes a few times, hoping that some sleep would make the time pass by faster, he couldn't seem to actually doze off. Occasionally he would glance around the wagon, especially if he thought someone might be looking his direction. He kept hoping someone would seem to want to have a conversation with him. But the elves just remained silent, rarely ever looking at him. He saw them sometimes exchange glances with one another, and the occasional brief sentence, but none of them seemed comfortable having a conversation around him.

He wondered if he could get Sharnellynn to teach him their language, and tried to pass some of the time recalling what little he'd heard of her teaching Ahriender. Unfortunately, he'd never really paid much attention to their lessons, not having expected to learn it himself. The words he'd heard sounded musical, as if the speaker was singing instead of just saying the sentences. Still, he spent the rest of the afternoon doing his best to remember what words he'd heard in Elven so far and which ones he could put a meaning to. By the time the wagon stopped, he'd gone over a few words, but couldn't put any of them into a sentence. He wondered if any of the others would be willing to help him learn. Based on how quickly every piled out of the wagon as soon as it stopped, he somehow doubted it. He tried to tell himself that they were just happy to get out and stretch their legs, but he didn't fully believe it. He did wish, however, that he could get out and stretch his own legs.

His spirits lifted when Sharnellynn climbed into the wagon with Miraselle. Then they dropped a little when he saw the dark circles under her eyes and the tiredness written on her face. She smiled when she saw him and immediately came over and gently hugged him.

"I can't get to his bandages with you in the way," Miraselle said with a frown. Matner could tell that there was more to the frown than Miraselle was letting into her voice.

"What's wrong?" he asked bluntly. "I can already tell something isn't right, so just tell me."

Sharnellynn surprised him by bursting into tears, hiding her face in his chest. He hugged her and looked at Miraselle for an answer. The woman looked frustrated for a moment before speaking.

"There has been some... tensions because of the half-breed," Miraselle said softly.

Sharnellynn moved out of the way so that Miraselle could check bandages. Sharnellynn still looked like she needed help. She looked helpless and vulnerable in a way that contrasted the show of strength she always put on before. Being caged had changed her, he realized. He reached one hand out to hers and held her hand while Miraselle took care of him.

When the bandaging was done, Matner gingerly tried to see how mobile he could be. He had to ask for help getting up. Miraselle tried to dissuade him, but Sharnellynn helped willingly. He was able to stand. His leg did not hurt too much if he moved slowly. He advanced carefully around boxes toward the back of the wagon.

He needed more help lowering himself down off of it. He asked Sharnellynn to get his sword for him. He took the moment to look around the little camp. There were definitely more elves than he had originally planned for. They all looked fairly disheveled, and none of them looked like they might have been elves that climbed on during the escape. He could only reason that the numbers in the cages had grown in the time it had taken him to prepare.

They sat around the camp in small groups. Dir Ketten and Levich were sitting together. Dir Ketten was writing in his book and Levich was whittling something with a little knife. Dir Ketten looked up at him and raised an eyebrow a little. Ahriender was sitting off by himself, looking lost and alone. There was a purple bruise on his cheek.

Sharnellynn brought him his sword, and he felt more comfortable with it buckled around him. He would have preferred also having his armor, but that would have been more difficult. Perhaps tomorrow, he told himself. There was a box set out nearby. He climbed up onto it, leading with his good leg.

"Alright everyone," he said loudly to get their attention, "listen up. Ahriender has had people everywhere he's gone giving him grief because of the circumstances of his birth. But you all need to realize one thing. I went in there to rescue him and Sharnellynn. I took the rest of you with because I wasn't willing to just leave you all down there. But if it weren't for those two, the rest of you would either be still down there or dead."

"Now, if you were good people you might show some gratitude. Failing that, you can at least show some compassion and tolerance. But if you aren't going to at least be decent people and represent what your people can be, then get out of this camp and go your own way."

"This is not your camp. It's not your wagon. It's mine. Ahriender and Sharnellynn are welcome with me because they've shown me that they're a joy to have around. Miraselle and Loridan are welcome, and they've both risked a lot to help me and to help you all. They've shown me a lot of positive things as well."

"Now, maybe some of the rest of you have been pitching in and helping when I wasn't able to see. I thank everyone that has. But if we're going to find any of you a safe place to live it's going to take a lot more than that. We need to act together without excluding and shunning each other. Every one of you needs to decide--right now--whether you can be part of a group and behave like civilized people or not. If not, then you're just plain not coming with me. And the last thing I'm only going to see once. If I ever see one of you striking Ahriender I will kill you and leave your body for the animals."

He stepped back down off the box as smoothly as he could manage, and headed over to where Ahriender was sitting. He sat down next to the boy, attempting to give a brief level gaze to the rest of the Elves before looking at Ahriender. The boy was looking at the ground unhappily.

"How are you doing?" Matner asked him, keeping his voice low enough so that the conversation wouldn't travel. He could hear the Elves talking amongst themselves already.

"I don't know," Ahriender said. "I don't think... I don't know."

"You don't think what?"

"Is it always going to be like this?" Ahriender looked up, and he looked so sorrowful, Matner thought his eyes might start welling up at any moment.

"No," Matner answered. "It may take a while before we find the right place, but I know it has to be out there."

"I don't feel so sure anymore. None of this is what I expected."

"I know."

Matner tried not to let his disappointment in the other Elves weigh in his voice but he could tell that Ahriender had been the brunt end of some verbal abuse. While his speech might stall them from speaking outright to Ahriender for now, much of the damage had already been done. The bruise was clearly just the icing on the cake.

Sharnellynn brought them both some dry, crusty bread with some butter smeared on it, saying that the rest of dinner would be ready soon. Matner watched her move about camp, trying to be helpful here and there and gathering up the wooden bowls to bring dinner when it was ready. She looked like a stray cat Matner had once seen - moving quickly from one spot to another to keep away from the animal catcher. She still looked almost as frightened as she did when he'd seen her in the cage and didn't stay still in one spot for very long. Yet, when she came back with three bowls, steaming with dinner, she clearly relaxed some when she sat down next to him.

Dinner past quietly. The two elves seemed just as lost in thought as he was. Most of what he found himself thinking about was that they did not have enough food for the larger group. He also found himself glad that it was still only late summer and not winter. None of the elves were dressed at all right for winter.

Sharnellynn gathered their bowls for washing. Another elven woman joined her for washing, but the two did not appear to talk at all while they worked. The other woman had thicker hands that looked like they were accustomed to harder work than Sharnellynn's had.

He spent some of the evening thinking about how in several ways Sharnellynn had probably had it easier than the rest of these elves had. As far as he could tell, slaves were treated quite a bit more harshly in Garzer Keep than he had ever noticed back home.

"I don't think they like you," Levich said to him later. "But don't feel too bad. I don't think they like me, either."

"Yeah," Matner agreed with a sigh. "I don't think I expected huge displays of gratitude, but..."

"Hey, thanks."

Matner could not help but chuckle at that.

"No, really," Levich said. "You probably took a risk helping me. I've pretty much always had to help myself."

"That's what I do, I guess," Matner replied. "I help people. Sometimes I can, and sometimes I just can't." He remembered the words of the strange hermit. He wondered how much, if any, of this would be happening if he had never seen the man.

"So how far does this go, anyway?" Levich asked, lowering his voice a bit more and leaning in towards Matner.

"What?" Matner asked, confused.

"With the Elves. How far does it go?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"Well I know you're telling them all that you're going to get them to safety. So, where's that? Who's the buyer? Or do you have several lined up?"

Matner gave Levich a surprised look, feeling his fists clench. He paused to breathe a moment before answering, reminding himself that they couldn't have gotten the Elves out as quickly without his help.

"When I say I intend to get them to safety," he said, keeping his voice as even as possible, "I mean somewhere where they can be free."

"Oh." Levich looked at the fire, appearing somewhat disappointed. "Are you sure? Because most of them you could probably get a decent price for..." He trailed off with a shrug.

"I'm beginning to understand why the Elves might not like you much," Matner commented. "They're people, just like us, Levich. And their debt is long past being paid. They deserve to be free, and I intend to help these few to find somewhere they can do just that."

"But what's in it for you?"

Levich looked at Matner, and he could see that the thief clearly didn't know what could possibly be the end reward for doing such a thing. Matner gave him a half-smile as he answered.

"The knowledge that I'm doing the right thing?" he tried.

"Oh."

Levich sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"You disagree?"

"I've just never met a good intention that didn't come with a price," Levich admitted. "I don't have anything against the Elves, mind you. I just don't see how helping them is really going to work out well for us. It's plenty likely that it will just bring more pain down on our heads. And theirs. In the end it might not be the best choice ever."

"You sprung me though, so I'm with you till at least the next city. Then... who knows. But I'm not going to turn the guard on you or anything like that. Wouldn't be gentlemanly."

Levich shrugged and gave Matner a half-grin before standing up.

"Meanwhile, I'm going to get some sleep. Not all of us have been lounging about in the wagon these last few days. G'night Matner."

Matner tossed in his sleep and did not feel like he slept well. He did not wake feeling tired in the morning, though. He was more able to get up on his own and come out for a quiet breakfast. Breakfast went without any real tension, but also without any sense of community.

Matner was able to sit up front and help drive the wagon, which felt much better than laying in the back. He was still not wearing his armor, but he did have his sword.

They were passing through what had been the wide border lands between human and elven rule. The elves had never completely settled all the way to the border, and the humans had never expanded too far past the safety afforded by the border keep cities.

There were recently settled farms, and Levich mentioned that they had been skirting around those. Most of the land was grassland and light forests. Paths had been cut through the forests, and there were even a few roads.

It was not until the evening that any feeling of normality came to Matner. Dir Ketten finally resumed Ahriender's staff training. Levich got involved as a sparring partner. He had used a staff before, and although he was far from highly skilled, he was still better than Ahriender. Matner supposed it might not be long before the half-elf caught up.

But that attracted the other elves to watch. Miraselle explained that any kind of fighting or weapons training had been completely forbidden to them. Matner suggested that some of the evenings could be used to teach those who were interested. Before he knew it, more than half of the elves were taking turns using knives and hatchets to shape practice swords or staves. They had an impressive knack for feeling the balance of his sword and approximating it from cut and shaped branches.

He was also surprised to see Loridan take charge of some of them for training. He watched the Elven man swing the practice sword he had made. It moved easily in his hands, although he almost seemed disappointed in the balance and stopped to frown at it now and again. After he had given some basic instructions on swing and stance, Matner saw the man working at the wood again with his knife, smoothing it out again. When Matner approached the man, he thought it might have been the finest practice sword he'd ever seen. He couldn't help but lean in to look at it more closely. Loridan had used the tip of his knife to carve design into the side of the blade and hilt. Some looked as if it could be lettering. The edge on the wood looked sharp enough to actually cut someone as well.

"Something wrong?" Loridan asked, noticing Matner looking over the weapon.

"That looks amazingly crafted for such a short amount of time and with so few tools," Matner replied, letting his awe show through in his voice. "May I?"

For a moment, Loridan looked as if he was going to pull the wooden sword back away from Matner, but instead he handed it over. It felt lighter than Matner's steel sword, but even in his hand. He noticed the length of it was longer than he was accustomed to.

"This isn't the first time you've made one of these, is it?" he asked, handing it back. "What did you do before... before coming to these lands?"

"You mean before my enslavement?" Loridan asked, with an obvious tension in his voice. "I was the best swordsmith in the capital city. The only reason I wasn't sent off to fight is because they needed sturdier weapons to try and fight off the giants with. And before you ask, I was deemed the best swordsmith by the King himself, which is how I was granted Miraselle's hand in marriage. Fortunately, I came from a long line of prestigious weaponsmiths so the pairing was considered fortuitous."

"Oh?" Matner asked, unsure of what he meant.

"She hasn't told you yet then. She may be the last living relation to the King. Most were killed fairly early into our servitude. She was his second cousin. Some went missing, however, and are rumored to be amongst the rebels, including the King's youngest brother, so Miraselle makes no claim to the throne. But that is part of why it was important to get her to safety. Our people will listen to her. She has worked hard to do what she can for them, and at great personal cost."

"Wow," Matner said. "How did you end up with Arnish, then?"

"Arnish was an officer. It seems part of his...orders...was to coordinate rounding us up. He interviewed several of us personally. Neither of us told him the entire truth. He always said he chose us because we were married and he thought to keep us together. He knows now, of course. He never let on whether he already knew by the time we told him. I'm still not sure, although Miraselle is convinced he knew when he chose us. Regardless, it was fortunate, I suppose."

"Well, if nothing else it explains why he wanted both of you to come with me," Matner suggested. "He treated you well, though? All things considered, I mean..."

"He never treated us entirely the way we've both seen others treated. He made it clear from the beginning that there were rules, and that if we followed them that things would be easier. We've...rarely given him reason to be angry with us. By the end it was almost as if we were just other hired help. Never quite, but almost."

"I'm glad your experience with humans has not been entirely bad, then," Matner said.

"Miraselle and I have come to realize that humans range all the way from good to horrible. There are differences, just as we are not all alike."

Matner wondered if good was the best he could ever be viewed as by the elf. He suspected that Loridan would describe elves as including everything from great to bad.

"Our people have been slaves for longer than you have lived," Loridan pointed out. "I think perhaps you cannot imagine how much time most of us have had to deepen our mistrust of you."

Matner sighed, not having a good response for Loridan. He found himself looking at the others in camp and he felt as if there was a brick wall between himself and them.

"I am sorry. I am not the optimist I once was. That tends to be Miraselle's approach moreso than mine nowadays. However, even though she applies a gentle hand, don't think she is any quicker to trust than I. She is merely better at deceptions."

"What happened?" Matner asked, shaking his head.

"Do you mean all Elves or just myself and Miraselle?" Loridan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Either. Both. I don't know. It's just that I feel like I'm fighting a battle where both sides now disapprove of me and I don't even really know how it got this way."

Loridan nodded, picking up a thick stick and beginning to work at it with the knife. He seemed deep in thought for a moment, before speaking.

"Arnish wanted to try too once. He pushed the issue. He'd risen in rank and thought it was wrong to keep us enslaved, even though he was granted Miraselle and I. It was clear to most, in the beginning, that the Human King's army had not won against the giants. Something else had happened to stop the war. But the King had claimed the victory nonetheless and no one could deny it. There has never been solid proof of how the war was won. Perhaps that might clear the path. Perhaps not. So much time has passed."

"He thought his rank might help his voice be heard, but it was not. Arnish was ridiculed. He was young yet as a knight and advised to quiet down lest he lose his property. He was threatened, and he listened. For the duration of the deal that was made between the Kings, he sat silent. Then the point when we were supposed to be released came and went. He became angry for a while. More at himself than anything, he told me once. He said that a part of him had known all along that we wouldn't be released. He reached a point where he couldn't stand by any longer. The next Elf that was to be executed - he stepped forward and tried to remind those around him that we were supposed to be free again. He challenged the executioner and the Commander of the units stationed at that city. This was before he was sent to Garzer Keep, and part of the reason for it."

"In the end, the confrontation came down to bloodshed. The executioner went to finish what the Commander ordered him to do. Arnish drew his sword and wounded the executioner badly, cutting the Elf loose to prevent him from being killed. This was all done publicly, before a large group of spectators. Once things calmed down, the Commander had Arnish put in a cell while he decided punishment. He couldn't order the execution of a knight. Only the King can do that. So he had Miraselle and I whipped within inches of our lives while Arnish watched. Arnish was gagged so that the whipping could be public, but I heard that man try to plead himself hoarse for us that day. Especially for Miraselle. It was worse for her. She was pregnant. Nearly to term. They only stopped beating her when she miscarried."

Matner stared at Loridan in horror, unable to imagine anyone being so cruel as he was describing. His stomach churned and he wanted to retch just thinking about it.

"So I have seen how far your people will go to ensure their greed. However, I also know how much what happened to us hurt Arnish. He has spent years attempting to make up for what happened. Miraselle never blamed him. She does not lightly trust any other Human, however. Nor do I. But Arnish has always been a good judge of character. He is careful who he trusts. He believed you could help us, Matner, so I do as well. And I don't just mean Miraselle, myself, or any of the others here tonight. I mean all of us. The Elves. Even if neither you nor I see the day when Elves are free again, I believe you will take us further on the path towards that end."

Loridan took a long breath and looked down at the wood he was working, turning it in his hands before digging the tip of the blade in to hollow out a small area.

And the Oracle couldn't tell me I'd get mixed up in all this, huh? Matner asked himself. For a moment he watched Loridan carve in silence. It all seemed too big, too much. He sighed.

"I am trying," he said. "You can see that, right?"

"I can. I'm pretty sure Miraselle can as well. But she's distracted and I'm not one for speaking out. Most of the others are probably a bit jaded and skeptical. They've mostly all only seen one side of humanity. Maybe you can show them a different one."

Loridan had spoken without looking up from his work. Matner could not tell if it was just an old joy rediscovered for Loridan, or if he would have preferred not to talk more. Matner chose to let him have his silence either way.

The weapons training was winding down as it started getting dark. The last parts of camp were set up, and he watched them work. They worked well together, all working hard and pitching in with natural teamwork. There was little for Matner to do but stay out of the way. It was not long before elves were bedding down around the fire. They said what could only be an elven translation of good night to each other. Too many of them said it before laying down for it to be much else. He tried to memorize the sound of the word, repeating it several times in his mind.

It was their camp, not his, he realized. All he had was the wagon. He wondered if he was really helping them get anywhere or if he was just along on their journey at this point. He climbed back into the wagon where his bedding had never been taken apart. No one said good night to him. There was no one else sleeping in the wagon. Dir Ketten and Levich had set up a little off to the side. He wondered if they felt as alone as he did. Dir Ketten, he supposed, would not be bothered by it. He was tired and still aching. He decided that tomorrow night he would move and sleep with the others.

His dreams were strange and restless, mostly of Elves being beaten or slaughtered and finding himself chained and unable to do anything to stop it. In one dream he found himself in a stockade, being pelted with rotten eggs and tomatoes as a village yelled taunts and insults at him. Nearby, the dead bodies of elves swung from ropes around their necks on trees all across the unfamiliar village. They were dead, but their eyes still turned on him, watching him with distrust.

He awoke with a start to the sound of Ahriender's voice.

"You have to believe me!" he told someone. "Matner! Matner, wake up!"

"What's going on?" Matner called through the canvas of the wagon as he rolled himself out of the blankets.

He banged his knee against a crate on his way to the open end of the wagon and cursed. When he finally made his way out of the wagon he could see Ahriender and Sharnellynn standing together with a half-circle of Elves all looking at them, most shaking their heads disapprovingly. Dir Ketten was awake and he and Levich were standing near the edge. Ketten looked wary in the moonlight. Matner reached back and grabbed his sword, strapping the belt on as he strode towards the confrontation.

"If my son says he heard her speak, then he did," Sharnellynn said defensively. "He's not a liar!"

"Your son is a half-blood," one of the elven men said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Who knows what sort of mutations that sort of mixing can bring. His mental capacities are half-Human! Clearly this is causing him some sort of hallucinations."

"How dare you suggest-" Sharnellynn's voice flared in anger and she took a step forward.

"The girl can't speak, Sharnellynn," Miraselle interrupted, putting up a hand. "Whatever the explaination, he cannot have heard her say anything. She has never spoken a word in her life."

As Matner came to stand with them, he saw the girl in question. He had seen her in the camp earlier, always trailing behind Miraselle and watching everyone with large, eyes that seemed both frightened and determined. Matner guessed her to be only a few years younger than Ahriender.

"Ask her then!" Ahriender said, pointing at the girl. "Ask Gyra if she told me or not. She can nod yes or no! Then maybe you'll believe me!"

Matner stepped between them and spoke slowly and clearly, trying not to let his frustration get the better of him.

"Would someone... please... just tell me what is going on?"

"The half-breed seems to think that Gyra told him there are dogs after us and that they will find us by sunrise if we don't leave now," the elven man answered, shaking his head in disgust as he did.

"First of all, Ahriender has a name," Matner said, turning on the man angrily. "From now on, I suggest you use it or do not expect to be addressed by me as anything beyond elf for the duration of our journey together."

"Oh, as if that would be so different than any other Human," the man muttered, rolling his eyes.

Matner stepped closer having to work hard not to just raise his fist and strike the man.

"The difference," he said, through gritted teeth, "is that I am willing to risk my life for yours, elf, and have no more allies left to call upon to help you. If there are dogs after us and we sit here idly, mine is one of the very few blades you have here to defend you against them or the soldiers they would bring with them. I'm still recovering from the last battle that helped you escape. How do you think we will fare if attacked now?"

"We have been traveling hard these last few days, we need rest," the man argued. "If we pick up camp and run every time Ahriender starts hearing voices -"

A part of Matner's brain found it ironic that he'd never hit an Elf before that moment. But before he could stop himself, he backhanded the man across the face with his fist. The man wasn't anywhere near as strong as Matner was, and he fell backwards, crying out from the impact. Matner stepped back and turned to the rest of the group who were looking at one another nervously.

"Pack up everything. We leave now. The price we would pay for neglecting the warning would be far greater than the loss of a little sleep. Break everything down as quickly as possible."

He held his breath as a few of them looked at Miraselle and a few others, as if seeking some sort of confirmation. Miraselle looked at Matner a moment before she nodded once and the Elves moved into action as one, setting about the task of breaking camp. Matner let his breath out slowly as Miraselle stepped forward, the girl, Gyra, still all but hiding behind her. He thought the girl looked ready to cry.

"The girl can't speak," Miraselle said, keeping her voice low. "She couldn't have told him anything, even if she could have somehow seen what he is saying. It is too far-fetched to believe any of it."

"Then why did you nod?" he challenged, casting a brief look at the elves packing.

"Because I don't want to see everything we've worked for fall apart," Miraselle said. He thought he saw a flash of anger in her.

"Ahriender is not a liar," he told her, letting his own anger show. "He is not like you or I. I like to believe he is something more. Something better. Perhaps Gyra has more than just her voice to speak with. Perhaps only Ahriender can hear her."

"That is unlikely -"

"Have you asked her?"

His question stopped her, and there was a moment of pause before Miraselle turned to Gyra.

"I know this is all frightening for you, Gyra," she said gently, "but you need to answer me truthfully now. Did you tell Ahriender about men with dogs coming for us?"

The elven girl looked positively terrified, her eyes darting back and forth between Matner, Miraselle, and Ahriender. There was a long silence before it was Ahriender who spoke.

"She says she tried to escape because she knew they'd find out. She saw it in her dreams. Just like she saw the dogs. So she tried to run away before they'd figure it out. Because if they found out they'd have killed her mother too. But if she just ran away... even if she didn't make it out they would only kill her for it. They always kill an elf who shows signs of being able to do magic."

"Don't you put words in her mouth!" Miraselle turned back to Ahriender, clearly angry. "Don't you dare!"

"She says you gave her mother a locket two years ago, and her mother treasures it more than anything. She keeps it hidden in a handkerchief in her sock so they don't find it."

Ahriender looked determined. Miraselle looked confused. She turned back to Gyra, who nodded, still looking terrified.

"Thank you for your warning, Gyra," Matner said to the little girl. "You're a very brave little girl. I'll do my best to make sure nothing bad happens to you, alright?"

Gyra nodded. She straightened up a little.

"Ahriender," Matner continued, turning to the boy. "I need your help. If we get into a big fight I won't be able to look out for individual people. You're learning how to use that staff, but I don't think you should be at the front of a big fight--"

Ahriender tried to interrupt, but Matner held up a hand to stall him. "I want you to help me watch out for a few people. If we get into trouble, keep your mother, Gyra, and Miraselle together. We have too many for you to try to protect them all. I want you to focus on those three. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Ahriender said solemnly. Matner saw the look of resolve in the boy's eyes, which was exactly the look he had hoped to see. Hopefully giving the boy a mission would give him something positive to focus on, he thought.

Matner wondered how the girl knew, and had little other than the magic she--or Ahriender--had alluded to. But he had seen Ahriender heal far too quickly, and the two had somehow communicated with just their minds. Whether the girl had better ears than the rest--and had heard dogs in the distance--or whether she had had some kind of vision did not matter if she was right.

"Let's help get us moving again," he told them. "Miraselle, help me with the horses please?"

"I... of course." Miraselle still looked confused. It was probably just hardened by the moonlight, but it seemed to Matner as if the dark circles under her eyes had deepened in the past few minutes. She came with him, but kept glancing back at the girl, whom Sharnellynn took by the hand and led towards some smaller items that needed repacking into boxes.

"You'll have plenty of time to talk to her, Miraselle, assuming we get out of here quickly enough."

"You believe them? About the dogs, I mean?"

"I seen no reason for either of them to lie about something that puts their lives in peril." Matner tightened the reins on the first horse and led it the short distance to the yoke. "We have much more to lose if they're right than if they're wrong."

"I agree... but..." Miraselle pulled the leather straps from the reins of the horse she'd been leading through the metal loops before handing them to him so he could run them the rest of the way with his. "Magic isn't common any longer amongst my people. What if she just had a bad dream?"

"Religion is common amongst my people, Miraselle. Most of those who can do feats that would be deemed magic are priests or healers who generally have a close tie to one of the churches. If you want my answer - it could just as easily be the Gods trying to warn us through her as anything else."

"Then why not warn Ahriender instead?" she asked as they moved to the next two horses.

"Perhaps he can hear her but not them," Matner shrugged. "Or maybe so that she could find out that there is someone here who can hear her. Who knows? I can't pretend to know the will of the Gods. I just try to conduct myself in a manner they would hopefully agree with. And if this is a message from them - all the more reason not to ignore it in my opinion."

"But we don't believe in the same Gods."

"Symantics. Your Gods or mine, I'll take what we can get right now."

There was a long pause while they worked, and Miraselle seemed to be thinking. Matner finally interrupted it with a question of his own.

"The man I struck. What is his name?" he asked.

"But you bring hope, Matner," she said, pausing and laying a hand on his. "For that, I am grateful. Hope helps begin the mending. Because of you, these people here have that hope. From that, may build trust, but that takes time. A single action is not a cause for someone to place their trust in another, Matner. Trust is earned over time. While your deeds for us have taken a step towards that, if you allow the hostility of some, like Sorealayn, to draw you to anger, it will be a difficult goal to reach. Especially with your loyalty to Sharnellynn."

"Sharnellynn?" he asked, taking a step back. "Why?"

"You are right. We have no nation to return to. Our numbers are diminished, both from our war against the giants and our enslavement to your people. Now, more than ever, we need to be having elven children to replenish our numbers so that we may one day find a place of our own again. What she has done, allowing Ahriender to be born, goes against some of our oldest rules. We have few enough Elven men remaining to carry our people into the future. If we taint the bloodlines now..."

"Taint?" Matner asked, a bit incredulous. "Perhaps someone who is of both bloodlines could help bridge the gap between us. Did you ever think of that?"

"I have to think of the Elven people right now, Matner. If more and more of these half-breeds are allowed to be born then what will happen to the Elven bloodlines over the years with so few Elven men available? It is as combining water and dirt together - they can combine to make mud for a while, but eventually they will divide again. But while our waters are muddied, our ways begin to be lost. So much already needs to be built, we cannot afford this further insult to go on."

"Insult?" Matner demanded. "I think I should be the one insulted right now, at the idea that I could potentially dirty your people being a human and all."

"It was meant as an example, not an insult," she said gently, attempting to put her hand on his arm again.

"No," Matner said, pulling his arm back angrily. "Ahriender is something more. He is special. And it is because of the fact that he is both our people combined. And I think that if you ignore that - if you forbid more like him from coming into existance - you'll be missing out on the potential for something great to happen from our people coming together. Dividing yourselves back off into your own little nation won't help mend the wound between us, Miraselle. But embracing Ahriender and others like him might."

"We need time to heal first Matner -"

"Heal?" he interrupted. "Or maybe to stew in your anger and plot your vengence? I see enough anger already amongst the Elves. And enough fear that will become anger once they feel safe enough. My one worry is starting to be that I'm just helping in what will inevitably become a war between our people, Miraselle."

He hadn't realized it until he said it and then he thought about it as he walked away from her. He heard her feeble attempt at a protest behind him, but he could tell by her voice that she had the same fears. Once they were free, the Elven people would realize what was done to them. And they would want some sort of payback. He could only hope that there would be some, like Ahriender, who could bridge the gap. Suddenly Sharnellynn's son seemed far more important than he ever had before.

The dark did not seem to be making anything take longer, other than things he tried to do. Evidently the elves could see better in the dark than humans. They worked together efficiently as they had before--just without any humans and elves working side-by-side.

Levich and Dir Ketten were getting the two extra horses set up. Matner walked over to them. He suggested that perhaps Levich could drive the wagon while he and Dir Ketten ride their own horses. If they were being pursued, then the two warriors would be more responsive on horseback. Dir Ketten nodded his approval.

"You try too hard with them," Dir Ketten said when they were separated from the rest of the group a little once the loaded wagon started moving.

"What do you mean?" Matner asked.

"You have to let them find their own place. They need time to come back together as a people."

"But they just want to go off on their own. They don't want to make any attempt at co-existing or working together with us. They're just going to go off and stew until the next war starts. It's like I can see it coming. If they aren't willing to co-exist then those captains and magistrates back there will find an excuse for war."

"They need to find their own place," Dir Ketten reiterated.

"Where?" Matner asked. "Their lands are gone, gobbled up."

"Lines on a map," Dir Ketten pointed out as if pointing out which direction East was because the sun was rising there. "The world is big, and much of it is unsettled and even unexplored. Either way, they are not your people to lead to safety. You are not responsible for them. You told two of them you'd find a safe place for them. This is not it."

"Are you suggesting I leave them to fend for themselves?" he asked, somewhat astonished. "To take Sharnellynn and Ahriender and go our separate ways?"

"You cannot force others to accept your help, no matter how good your intentions," Dir Ketten replied.

"I don't think Arnish would abandon them if it was him here instead of me," Matner argued.

"Arnish is not here," Dir Ketten pointed out. "And they know him better. Miraselle and Loridan already trust Arnish. They do not know you."

"We aren't far enough from the city yet for them to get away safely," he argued, shaking his head. "We can't leave them now. And Old Fredrickson's contact in Eerwayh may be able to help them as well. If there are rebels somewhere, we can point them in the right direction to them."

"Meanwhile, both Ahriender and Sharnellynn are not safe."

"What do you mean?"

"Your words alone will not be enough to stop them from dealing with something they consider to be an insult to their race."

"You think they would hurt Ahriender?" Matner felt shocked.

"I am not entirely sure what they will do. But Miraselle will not try to stop it, even though she is attempting to shield Sharnellynn some. Many of these people have been treated with cruelty, and will respond with cruelty in kind."

"Damnit," Matner said softly with a sigh. For a while he just watched the wagon's wheels turn while his mind wandered over what to do. None of it was helpful. He was starting to feel as though he was going to grow old leading the two around trying to find a place for them to call home.

He wondered if--no, most of the elves weren't ready to understand what he had risked for them. He supposed that perhaps the main risk was the same whether rescuing two or all of them. It was probably treason either way. Could he have gotten out without all the help? No, probably not. Would he have had all that help for just the two? No, he supposed, probably not.

By the time the sun came up he was still thinking most of the same frustrating thoughts. He was less inclined now to train them in weapons. More and more he was considering giving them the wagon and taking Sharnellynn on his horse and Ahriender on Dir Ketten's and leaving the rest with the wagon to do as they saw fit.

Yet the more he thought about that, the more it seemed likely that any pursuit would find the wagon. The time any pursuit spent dealing with the wagon would probably let the four of them get away. But he was not sure he could do that, or even that he should.

When his stomach started rumbling an hour or so later he called a brief halt. They stopped just a little longer than enough to break out food they could eat on the move. He wanted the horses to have those extra few minutes, and he and Dir Ketten grabbed some oats from the wagon to feed the horses. Ahriender and Sharnellynn came out and helped. Levich only climbed down off the driving bench to stretch his arms and legs before climbing back up.

It took a long while before they came to water wide enough that they could cross that might help to lose the trail of any dogs that might have their scent. They made their way across slowly, checking the depth before they took the horses over it, and the wagon floated on the water for a short ways halfway across. He was relieved once they'd all made it to the other side, and took turns with Dir Ketten in setting a false path further along the river to hopefully mislead anyone following them. They followed the river a while before stopping for lunch and then veering away from it again during the afternoon. They crossed a couple of other small branches off the river before they made their evening camp next to a small stream that ran back into one of the branches.

The Elves took turns bathing in the clear water of the stream and practicing with their wooden weapons once the camp was set up. Sharnellynn and Miraselle, Matner noticed, prepared the meal together. Ahriender practiced his staff, but he stayed off to one side, away from the others. No one spoke to the boy, and he noticed that any time Sharnellynn went near the other Elves she kept her head down and never made eye contact. Matner's frustration grew as he watched the other Elves act almost as if she didn't exist. Only Miraselle ever spoke to her.

As it started getting dark, and after the dishes were all cleaned up, Sharnellynn came over and sat next to Matner by the wagon. She had brought two mugs, but having a mug in each hand had no affect on her ability to lower herself to the ground gracefully. She handed one of the mugs to him. It was water, but it was cool.

The other elves were mostly sitting around the fire telling stories, or singing softly. Matner could not tell. It was all in elven, and singing or telling stories he could not distinguish.

"You are definitely not the person I first assumed you were," Sharnellynn said.

"Oh?" Matner asked after a sip of the water.

"We got off to a bad start, you and I," she replied. "I think we are both getting off to a bad start with this group."

"I think things are very different this time, Sharnellynn."

"You have been... Thank you," she said. He looked at her expression, trying to puzzle it out. She chewed on her lower lip just a little, like so many human girls he had seen trying to figure out how to say something. He felt then like maybe they were not so different after all.

"Thank you for getting us out of there," she added.

"I did promise," he pointed out. "I'm sorry you ended up down there at all."

"You could not help that," she insisted. "You nearly died trying to protect us. I have had time to think over just how many times you have risked or sacrificed for us. You have not been paid, you have often not had enough food, you have endured hardship, and you have risked life and limb. And the whole time you have asked us for nothing in return. I am sure that a number of ill fates would have befallen my son and I if not for your dedication. Please do not think that has gone unnoticed."

"I just wish..." he trailed off with a sigh, looking around at the camp.

His eyes ended up on Ahriender, sitting alone leaned back against the tree. The boy was watching the camp too. Matner thought he might be studying the Elves, as if they were another species of being entirely. He supposed that might not be too far from the truth. It was clear that this group of Elves, at least, was uninterested in accepting him as one of them.

"What do you wish?" she asked. He turned back to her to find her studying him, as if she was trying to understand him. He found himself wanting to pull her close to him, but looked away instead.

"I wish things were going better. For Ahriender. For you."

"I knew they might not understand," she admitted. "I just didn't think they'd be so..."

"Arrogant?" he asked, letting a bit of his frustrations tinge his voice.

"I suppose that's as good a word as any," she admitted after a moment's pause.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean - "

"No, you're right," she said, stopping him. "I thought maybe that maybe we would have learned a little humility during our servitude. And now they have added anger to the mix. I fear for what will happen now, as more of us are free."

She looked sad, and this time he did reach an arm out to bring her closer, wanting to comfort her. She shrank back a little from him, however, and he retracted it quickly, not wanting to upset her.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "It's just that they..."

She looked over at the others, and Matner realized that she was afraid of their opinion of her and not of him holding her.

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand."

Soon she stood up and walked over to where Ahriender was sitting a little aside from the main group. The two laid down a little earlier than the rest for sleep.

He stayed up later that night, not feeling tired. The elves had a watch rotation set up, since there were more than enough of them to spread the duty around. None of them had asked him to be involved.

Dir Ketten was not involved either. Matner noticed the nomad sitting crosslegged at one side of the camp. He could not tell if the man's eyes were open or not. It was dark enough and he was far enough that he could not make out any facial details at all. But the man's head was cocked to the side a little, as if listening intently. After a little while longer the nomad stood and walked to a spot by the wagon to sleep.

The rest of the group settled down. There was no signal, no sign that he could recognize as any group decision that it was time. One or two started by laying down to sleep, and within a short while the others had followed suit.

Matner sat and leaned against a wagon wheel. It was not terribly comfortable on his back, but still a little nicer than just sitting up. He watched the mostly still fall over the camp. Ahriender and Sharnellynn both looked to be tossing and turning. He could not tell if they were sleeping or just trying to.

He did not want to sleep just yet. He wanted a way to make things better. As far as he could tell there was just nothing he could do. Either time would make things a little better, or they would get worse and worse until they all parted ways. He realized the reason he was putting off sleep was because he was dreading starting another day in the morning. He gave up and laid down to sleep.