Even Fall
Chapter Seven

Ratings: PG
Warnings: Angst
Summary: Meri-Suzanne’s tale is told.
Notes:...The plotbunnies are finally back. Whoo!

“Father! Mother! I am home!”

Aramais watched as Meri-Suzanne raised the hem of her tattered gown just enough to permit her to run, making her way through the grand entranceway of the great palace that was her father’s house. Aramais and his companions waited as she fled into the depths of the house, calling.

He studied the entrance hall in which they now stood. It was a beautiful palace, crafted of white stone and marble, the crown mouldings and railings covered in gold. Crests and coats of arms and heraldic shields adorned the walls, along with paintings of fine horses. The guards that stood at attention wore uniforms of crimson and grey, and seemed well-fed and able. They tended to their posts, stern and unmoving. Meanwhile servants in uniforms of white and soft grey went about their business, paying not the slightest heed to the young woman who now darted through the house, calling for her parents.

“There is something amiss here,” said Whitebird.

Aramais nodded. “Indeed there is. Why does no one go to inform her father of her return? Why do the servants not react? Why is there not at least a nanny or hand maiden glad to see their mistress returned? These people behave as if they do not even see her. Brat she may be but no worse than many another lady or princess I have seen.”

Whitebird indicated a man coming down the stairs, dressed in regal and costly garb of velvet, silk and fur.

“Unless I am mistaken, that is Lord Stillin himself.”

Meri-Suzanne confirmed this by crying out in joy and running towards him. “Father I have come home! The searchers that you sent forth have brought me! Are you not glad to see me? I am so very…”

He struck her with force enough to throw her small body to the floor. As Aramais and his companions gaped in horror, Lord Stillin turned his gaze to them, pointing towards the girl on the floor.

“Take that thing from my sight and be gone from my lands ere nightfall finds you, lest I have my guards see to you.”

Aramais just stared in astonishment. Whitebird stepped forward.

“My Lord forgive me, but… is this not your daughter? She told us that this was her home, and you her father.”

“It was my daughter. Now take it away and bother me no more! Do not let me see you upon my grounds again.”

Lord Stillin walked away. Derith went to help up Meri-Suzanne, who was very quiet. She gathered her dignity as best she was able, pushing her long hair out of her face and smoothing her tattered gown. Then they left the palace, following the gravel road off the estate and into the woods.

“We’ll not make it back to the cottage before nightfall,” said Elaran. “I suppose we will have to take our chances in the woods.”

“No,” said Meri-Suzanne quietly. “There is a place. Come.”

They followed her to a fair little house with plaster walls that shone white in the setting sun, turning the thatched roof to gold. The yard was over-grown, and pens for chickens and goats stood empty.

“This was once where the hound master lived,” she said. “Since the plague, father dismissed him and threw him out. We will be safe enough here for the night.”

Aramais refrained from commenting upon what he thought of Lord Stillin, choosing instead to comfort Whitebird, who had become silent, no doubt grieving the fate of the hound master. Sarrin however was less inclined to hold his tongue.

“The man is troll droppings!” he stated. “I never in all my days saw such a thing! I knew nobles were cruel enough to throw a man out of his own home during a plague, but to strike his own daughter for returning to him? It boggles the mind! You are his child! How could he do that to you? Even if he is under the delusion that you have somehow wronged him, how could he treat you so harshly?”

“It is my fault,” Meri-Suzanne said. “I did not wish to believe the truth. I wrapped myself in a child’s wish-fantasy, and came to believe it. The truth was far too horrid for my mind to bear, so I created my own truth. A false truth. One I can no longer cling to.”

“What are you talking about, child?” asked Elaran, as Aramais and Derith tended to the horse, built a fire and set about preparing the evening meal. Whitebird sat down at the table with his kitten and began to feed it. What Meri-Suzanne said next brought their full attention in an instant.

“I was only sixteen when I died.”

There was a long silence, then Sarrin leaned forward as if doubting what he had heard.

“I’m sorry, did you say..?”

“When I died,” she repeated.

“Nonsense, child,” said Elaran. “You are not dead.”

Meri-Suzanne tore open the front of her badly-damaged gown, exposing her white breasts, and the savage hole just beneath them. “Then explain to me this, healer-woman. Is this the sort of wound that would be found in a walking, talking woman?” She turned her eyes to Whitebird. “You are a Snow Elf. You know the truth. You know that the souls of murdered innocents do not rest. They lie in the grave and beseech the living for succour and justice.”

Whitebird stared at the ghastly hole in the girl’s chest. At last he nodded.

“This I knew, for I have heard them. But never did I see one walking.”

Meri-Suzanne demurely closed her ripped bodice. “Likely perhaps because none of them were splashed with plague-slime as they lay dying. My life drained away, but my soul could not leave my body. When even fall came, I awoke in a casket of glass and gold, surrounded by funeral lilies, and clad in my very favourite gown.” She smiled faintly as she picked listlessly at the remnants of delicate silk and fine lace. “I left the casket and came to my parents, thinking perhaps they had erred, and I had not been dead at all. But they cast me from their house and their sight, and so I roamed the woods surrounding his lands.”

“My child that is awful!” said Elaran.

“How came you to have that hole in your breast?” asked Ryskul. “What monster gave you that?”

“That was a wedding gift from my husband,” she said. “Is it not grand? Few ladies indeed have one to match.”

“And fewer still would desire one,” said Sarrin. “How came you to something so evil?”

“Money,” she said. “Nothing more. My father promised him land and gold to marry me. Then, on my wedding night, as he and I shared a last dance upon the grass, one of his men came towards us, and told him he had proof my father had no intention of keeping his end of the bargain. So. Of what use was I? My love apparently meant nothing to him, my obedience even less to my father. I was stabbed, and doused with slime, and my father looked upon the whole matter as a bargain gone wrong – unfortunate, but such things happen. They buried me and made a pretence at grief, and when I awoke to plead my case, I was cast forth, where I told myself over and over that I was lost, and surely they would search for me. My mother at least I thought would seek me out, but… well, it was not to be, I suppose.”

She sat and toyed awhile with the ruined blue gown, then glanced up, smiling faintly through her tears.

“It was my very favourite,” she said quietly, almost apologetically.

“You shall have others one day,” said Whitebird.

She looked towards Whitebird, her violet eyes shimmering. “And to what party shall I wear them, my Lord?”

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Elaran rose to her feet and held her hand out to Meri-Suzanne.

“Come, let us get you cleaned up, and into some more practical garb. You certainly cannot go about with your breasts on display.”

“And why not?” said Sarrin. “Some gentlemen find a lady’s breasts to be quite charming to look at.”

Meri-Suzanne gave him a sidelong look, a faint smile upon her lips. “And what of the great hole in the lady’s breast?”

“Well some gentlemen find a lady’s hole to be equally as charming.”

It occurred to Sarrin precisely how shocking that phrase sounded the exact moment after he uttered it. Meri-Suzanne gasped, eyes large, her expression one of shock and outrage. Before Sarrin could so much as attempt to apologize for the remark, she slapped him with all her might. Then, raising the hem of her gown, she stormed off.

“Are you all right?” asked Derith.

“I’ve really got to learn to think before I open my mouth,” Sarrin said mournfully, rubbing his cheek.

“One step at a time, poor Sarrin,” said Derith. “Let us first teach you to think.”

“I can tell you what I think,” said Whitebird. “Meri-Suzanne said she was stabbed, then doused with plague-slime. But she makes no mention of plague-zombies at her wedding.”

Aramais nodded. “How did she come to be doused? Who carries such vile and dangerous matter upon their person? Yet she had to have been slimed before she died, else she would not have risen. And what lady enjoys a dance with her new husband with the dead staggering about?”

Whitebird nodded, then turned to call into the next room. “Meri-Suzanne!”

“Yes?”

“How came you to be slimed?”

“I’m not really sure. I was rather busy dying.”

He smiled. “But before you were dying.”

“I was dancing. We were outside, in the gardens. It was a spring wedding and the trees were in flower. Father came out, he and Liath argued… and I was told to stand by the musicians until they were done speaking. Said it was business for men. I suppose it was. I know that I was of no concern to them. Liath… became very angry. Then he left my father and came striding over to me and…”

She fell silent. She stepped out of the room, her long black hair tied into a ponytail. She was wearing breeches, boots and a tunic, all of which looked quite charming on her. Her soft purplish eyes were thoughtful.

“The dagger. The slime was upon the dagger. I saw it when he pulled it from its sheath. The blade was coated with it. And then he stabbed me. I remember noticing the slime but did not know what it was.” Her eyes met Whitebird’s. “Why would Liath have such an unspeakable thing on his person?”

“A very good question,” said Aramais.

“Do you know this Liath?” asked Whitebird.

“Nay, but that does not mean he is not part of whatever mad plot started this wave of death. And Lord Stillin may be involved. I suspect there is more to this murder than meets the eye.”

“What do you propose?” asked Elaran.

“I think we should stay here a few days, but hidden. Let no one know of our presence. We will have Rui learn what she can.”

“Well the fewer people, the fewer bodies to detect,” said Derith. “And my horse outside is as good as a beacon. Tomorrow I will return to the cottage where we found Meri and wait for you there.”

“I shall come with you,” said Sarrin.

“Should I stay or go?” asked Meri-Suzanne.

“I would like you to stay, my lady,” said Aramais. “You know this area. You may be able to offer insight into what we find.”

Whitebird sighed. “I weary of all this skulduggery! I am a warrior, not a spy. Give me a foe to slay and I shall gladly do battle.”

“Providing he is not covered in maggots,” said Sarrin.

Whitebird shuddered. “Distasteful little horrors.”

Aramais put and arm around Whitebird. “There, there, my poor frail dove. I shall keep the bugs away.”

“And the cold,” said Sarrin cheekily.

“Yes,” said Whitebird. “With two blankets and a strong body I am very warm indeed. And at what hour did you stop shivering, Sarrin?”

The bard pouted and ceased his teasing. Aramais gave Whitebird a gentle kiss, as Meri-Suzanne watched all this with wide eyes.

“So is it true then?” she asked.

Whitebird kissed Aramais again, and then turned his head to look at her. “Is what true, child?”

“That because your people are made of snow you can melt and reshape your bodies into whatever you like. So you are free to love as you please because you can be a lady or gentleman, as fancy takes you.”

Whitebird gazed at her, raising one eyebrow as if uncertain he had heard her correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well why else would a man choose to love another man? You won’t produce any heirs that way,” she giggled.

Whitebird released Aramais and faced the young woman. “Oh but my dear young lady, all male Snow Elves seek the company and comfort of other men, for you see our women are all the size of houses, with the heads of dragons, and they breathe fire. They have great claws, and icicles for fangs, and their birthing-parts are lined with mighty poisoned thorns. They only keep a man long enough to conceive a child, and then they devour him alive. Most of us prefer to avoid that.”

Meri-Suzanne’s eyes became enormous. “But that is so terrible! You must think all women are dreadful beasts!”

Before Whitebird could answer, Elaran called to Meri-Suzanne, and she left the room to see what Elaran wished of her. Derith, Sarrin, Ryskul and Aramais all gazed at Whitebird in astonishment.

“Tell me that is not true!” said Sarrin.

Whitebird cast him a jaded look. “My dear young Sarrin, it is easily as true as the rest of the nonsense I have heard you people spew forth regarding my kind.”

***---***

Aramais slipped into bed beside Whitebird, lying on his back on the cool sheet, feeling the hay beneath him crush and creak. He drew the covers up, then lay his hand across the top of the quilt.

“Senseless,” he whispered.

Whitebird rolled over to face Aramais. “Did you speak?”

“Yes. ‘Senseless’, I said, and to that opinion I hold. None of this makes any sense. That is what is so maddening! For what reason would anyone do this?”

“Perhaps there is no reason,” said Whitebird.

“I do not believe that,” he said, reaching down to pat the little winged kitten as it began to pounce on the hay, playing with the loose grass. “The death is too indiscriminate, too widespread, yet Lord Stillin remains. Why does Lord Stillin stay? And why does Meri-Suzanne’s faithless lover bear a dagger covered in plague-slime? Why condemn an innocent girl to undeath? Simply because her father withheld her dowry?”

“Daughters have been murdered for less.”

“They have indeed, but…” Aramais sat up, angry and frustrated. “We are wandering in the dark here! We know not what we are doing other than seeking books. If we knew to what end all this death and misery would lead, perhaps we could do something to better aid our task.”

“But we do not,” said Whitebird. “We know only that the king began this, and it may have something to do with these five tomes.”

“But that’s just it; we know nothing about these tomes, either, other than they are evil. I cannot believe this wanton destruction is for no greater end.”

“To rule a vast kingdom of death with an iron hand none dare stand against is a great end for some.”

“I know, but I cannot…”

“Aramais,” said Whitebird quietly. “Lie down. Demanding questions of the night accomplishes nothing. I know. I have done it often enough.”

Aramais lay down beside Whitebird once more. “You are right. But it is all so frustrating.”

He stared up at the ceiling, fuming, wanting answers to a mystery he could not unravel, even though it had eaten up almost a year of his life. Aramais knew there were many men wiser than he; it had never been his desire to be among the greats, only to live well and happily. But now he was in a situation that called for greatness, and he could not help but feel he was lacking.

He turned his head to look at Whitebird as he lay beside him, resting on his side, eyes closed. Aramais felt a smile cross his lips, and he reached out to gently push a wisp of hair out of his face.

“I am not worthy of you.”

Whitebird made a soft sound of amusement. “No human is, but I like you nonetheless.”

“Then I question your legendary Elven wisdom.”

Whitebird yawned. “I have no wisdom! I am a child! I’m not even fifty, by rights I should be at home with my mother.”

“Well I am very pleased to learn that!”

Whitebird laughed. “I jest. I am old enough to have a lover, and lands of my own. I am grown, though to my own people I am still considered very young.”

“I know so very little of your people. Only rumours and tales that never seem to be true.”

“I fear I know little of my people myself.”

“What do you remember?”

Whitebird blinked his pale blue eyes sleepily. “I was so young. I remember white cottages, and sheep. The wind through the golden wheat, and the smell of autumn leaves. It’s all a blur. I wasn’t old enough to have been taught the ways and mysteries of my people. And now there is no time to seek them out and learn.”

“Then let’s you and I agree to make that our next adventure, when this time of darkness is passed.”

Whitebird moved closer to Aramais, resting his hand on his shoulder. “I would like that,” he said quietly, then, with a peaceful sigh, closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

Aramais smiled, then gently drew the covers up over Whitebird before he too closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep.

***---***

“This was perhaps not our best thought out plan,” said Aramais.

Elaran sat on a chair in the little cottage and sighed, shaking her head. “Well there is naught we can do until Rui has finished playing the harlot with every tom in the area. You know she could have told me she was coming into season, but oh no. Wilful little trollop.”

Whitebird cuddled his kitten, his fur still purple like his master’s hair. “It is but a delay. She will lose interest soon enough.”

“So you can hear her thoughts?” asked Ryskul.

“We converse,” said Elaran. “I had heard that should a muirkat bind to you, that you would be able to speak with it. Of course I thought it nonsense, and since the wild ones are so hard to catch I never had a chance to learn for myself if it was true. Then that little trouble maker tumbled into my apron one fine day and I haven’t had a moment’s peace since! At first I was delighted because I lived alone but after a while I was ready to lose my mind. Fortunately kittens do not take long to turn into cats but if I had to hear one more demand for string…”

Whitebird held up his kitten, looking into the little blue eyes. “And what of you, little beast? Will you ever speak to me?”

“Perhaps a crow can learn what a cat cannot,” said Ryskul. He walked to the door of the cottage, opening it up and releasing his blind crow. “He has the advantage of appearing to be nothing more than the dead that haunt this place should he be spied.”

“Even out in daylight?” said Aramais.

“We can but hope no one pays heed to his presence.” Ryskul seated himself at the table. “I would like to know more about of Meri-Suzanne’s tale.”

“I’ve told you all I know,” she said quietly.

“We know,” said Whitebird, “but there may be things of which you do not know.”

“Well that’s true enough,” said Meri-Suzanne. “All I ever heard growing up was ‘this is man-talk’. I eventually came to take that to mean ‘we’re going to drink and pretend we’re smarter than we look’.”

Aramais laughed. “That is probably closer to the truth, but every tale has layers. And we are missing many.”

“I wish Hunter was here,” said Whitebird. “I relied upon him so much to make sense of that which was incomprehensible to me. Often our conversations resulted in insight and epiphany.”

“Then let us talk,” said Elaran. “What do we know, other than the land is dead and the king is mad, and Meri-Suzanne was slain by a dagger soaked in plague?”

“Well we know we are asking ourselves what the reason for it may be,” said Whitebird.

“Why must we assume there is a reason?” said Ryskul. “For some, death and mayhem is a reason! For some, power is a reason! Look at what the king has achieved! He has an entire realm at his mercy, and who has he to oppose him? Us? I tell you that were I in his position I would hardly be quaking in my boots. We sit and ask ourselves the reason but perhaps there is no reason! And even if there is, it hardly does us any good. It certainly brings us no closer to the solution. In the five books lies the answer, let us stop asking ourselves why and go on to how – namely how do we find the books. And we already have Rui and my crow seeing to that task. Let us save why for now. ‘Why’ will come to us later, and if it does not, then small matter as I doubt it will be a reason that will bring us comfort.”

Those gathered at the table were silent for a while, then Whitebird sighed. “You are right, friend Ryskul. We ponder why as if it were the key but in truth it may be something as meaningless as he wished to increase his power. We will seek the books and keep on our path, and stop letting ourselves by distracted by meaningless questions.”

Whitebird rose to his feet and picked up his bow and sword. Aramais watched him, his expression confused.

“Where are you going?”

“I spied a second cottage not far from here; I thought it would be worth our while for me to check it out.”

“Not alone!” said Aramais.

“A lone Elf may learn things that a group may not. I am quick, and silent. Ah, would that we were in the great ruling realm to the North, that we may beseech the Wizard-King for use of his Seer!”

“Would that many things were different, but they are not,” said Aramais. “And I doubt much that Hercandoloff lends his Seer to the likes of us.”

“If there even is a Seer,” said Elaran. “If they are so mighty and wise why then are they not here? They sit in their great white palace and do naught for no one. One king is as useless as another, I suspect.”

Whitebird checked to make certain he had all that he needed, then bent to give Aramais a soft, brief kiss.

“I shall not be gone long.”

“It is already too long,” said Aramais.

Whitebird smiled at him, then gave him a second kiss before departing. Meri-Suzanne sighed heavily, then reached for the pot of tea, pouring herself a cup.

“I have always wished to see the White Palace. I hear it is of astonishing beauty. Think of the grand parties they must throw there! Oh the Wizard must be so tall and handsome and strong!”

“I believe that is his wife,” said Aramais dryly, also taking some tea.

“Oh don’t be silly! She is Queen! She must be delicate and lovely and witty! She must flatter her husband and bring forth new heirs!”

“Not if the rumours are true,” said Ryskul. “That she has resurrected the ways of an ancient warrior goddess.”

“Oh utter nonsense!” said Meri-Suzanne. “What woman would give up hearth and home and babes to go to war? How could you possibly keep your shoes clean?”

Aramais smiled at her. “Well the Queen is also Lord General of the armies.”

“Well that proves it is nonsense, a woman cannot be a lord or lead an army. My mother told me so. I will not let you talk me into believing something so absurd. A proper Queen would never do such a thing. Should we ever come to White Palace, you shall see. She will be demure, delicate and gracious, surrounded by fawning maids and pretty children.”

“Should we ever come to White Palace then we shall see,” said Aramais. “But that is no short trek. That is a long ocean voyage around the Outer Haebrid and then one must follow the coast up to Palace Realm. It would take months. Over land the distance would be shorter, but we would have to dock in Silverwood and trek through that realm of death and through the Gnome Swamp. It would take far longer.”

“Oh let us go to White Palace and visit the Queen!” said Meri-Suzanne. “It would be so grand! Let us take a fair sailing ship and leave all this death behind! Elaran and I shall become her ladies-in-waiting, and Aramais and Whitebird will join the guard. Sarrin will be the King’s Bard, Ryskul shall become a conjurer, and Derith will do whatever it is Derith does when he is not following Elaran’s skirts about.”

“Perhaps another day,” said Elaran dryly.

“Well, since we are not going to the Palace for a grand party, I will make lunch,” said Aramais. He smiled. “But I confess I too would some day like to travel to the ruling kingdom and see the great palace of white. Perhaps when all this is over. Or if we have no choice but to flee.”

“It shall be the latter, I’ll wager,” said Ryskul quietly.

***---***

The day passed quietly, slowly becoming evening. The sun slipped away, the darkness swallowed all, and those in the cottage huddled in silence, not daring to light a lamp.

Rui was the first to return. She darted in through a window and landed on the table, then proceeded to busily groom herself, making no apologies at all for her antics. Next came Ryskul’s crow, landing on his shoulder and lowering its head as if to whisper into his ear. Aramais meanwhile stared out the window and into the darkness, searching for a familiar form.

“Whitebird is not back. Where could he be? He is not fool enough to stay out past dark!”

“I would not worry,” said Elaran. “Likely he was delayed and found himself a safe hole to hide in until morning comes. You wait. After sunrise we shall see our good Elf come home, likely with a pheasant in hand.”

“I still do not like it. He should have been back by now. I wish he would not wander alone! There are too many who will see him as a collection of treasure!”

“Calm down!” said Elaran. “Whitebird is far too cunning to be caught, and even if he was he would not long be held. You are worrying yourself for nothing. Come away from the window. Close the door and put out the light. He will not be back tonight.”

Aramais did, reluctantly. He ate a small simple dinner in silence, then went to bed, tossing and turning because he was too used now to having a small Elven body beside his, stealing the covers and pressing too close for him to get comfortable. The night was long and cold and lonely, and dawn brought no comfort. The sky was black, and rain poured down like a curse, turning the ground to thick slime and crushing the grass, tearing young leaves from the trees. The dead still wandered, shielded safely from the sunlight they could not bear. And still Whitebird did not return.

“He won’t be out in this,” said Elaran. “He knows the dead will still be walking.”

The long day passed slowly, the darkness and rain trapping them in the cottage. Then the night fell once more like the curtain on the final act of a bad play. Aramais slept badly, tossing and turning, and rising from the bed periodically to walk to the window and peer longingly into the void. Whitebird’s kitten had become plaintive, and food did not calm it anymore than Rui’s attempts at comfort.

This time when day finally arrived, it came with crystal blue skies and the scent of rain-fresh green. Aramais wasted little time dressing and gathering his belongings. With all the haste he could manage he fled into the sunlight, looking around for any sign of the Elf. Without waiting for the others he began searching the area, the kitten in his arms.

“Where is he, Hunter?” he said to the small animal. “Where did he go? He cannot be far. We will find him. We will find him and he will be well and alive and we shall tell him what we think of him for worrying us.”

Aramais searched franticly, retaining wit enough to avoid detection, but as time passed and there was still no sign he became anxious, and only the increasingly shrill cries of the hungry kitten brought him back to the cottage where his companions waited.

“Did you find him?” asked Meri-Suzanne.

“No I did not,” said Aramais. He set the kitten on the table, the strain of the situation threatening to unhinge his mind. He turned towards the counter to prepare milk for the kitten, and spied Rui there, delicately licking one paw and clearly undisturbed by the situation. With a swiftness Aramais did not know he possessed he snatched the cat up and forced her against the wall as if she were a person. Rui spat and bit, then froze as she felt a gloved hand clench around her throat. Aramais felt a rage within he had never known.

“This is your fault you fucking harlot! We sent you out to search! We sent you out to search and you took off to seek your own pleasure! I don’t know if this has occurred to you, cat, but if we die then there is no one to take care of you and your spawn. And if we die there is likewise no one to get you from this place to other lands, not unless those wings of yours can carry you hundreds of miles as do the albatross’.”

Elaran was beside herself. “Leave her be!” she shrieked. “She’s but a cat, she cannot know how dire is our plight!”

Aramais gazed at the cat, his own eyes burning. “I think you do. I think you know very well. I think you just don’t care because you do not think our fate is your fate, but I assure you it is. I’ll make dead certain of it. I have lost one dear friend already and I do not mean to lose a second. Now you are going to go out and search for Whitebird since it is YOUR fault that he had to go out at all, and you are going to tell Elaran exactly what you see and do it swiftly, or I have found a new coin purse and fresh gut for my bow.”

Aramais dropped the cat onto a chair and stepped back, watching her. Rui stared at him with cold angry eyes, tail swatting.

“She’s only a cat!” said Elaran. “She cannot know!”

“She is not only a cat, she is a muirkat and you told me yourself she speaks to you. If she can speak she can reason, and if she can reason then she must be made to understand that the only way we are going to live is if we do not start to think in terms of who is superior to whom. The horse and the cat are vital to our survival, and the horse, though he has no wings and cannot speak certainly understands that we are vital to his. That means the only being in this room who fails to comprehend our plight is the cat. Not a very fine example of feline wisdom, are you, when a mere horse grasps concepts that you do not.”

Rui hissed and swatted at him, ears flattened.

“Then go forth, dear lady!” snapped Aramais. “Prove me wrong!”

Rui growled, then hissed again. Aramais opened the door and watched as she hopped to the floor. She was about to walk past him when a thought seemed to occur to her. Aramais raised an eyebrow.

“I sincerely hope that you can scratch considerably harder than I can kick, m’lady.”

Rui threw him an arch look as if she was pondering no such thing. She then strutted by him, tail held high, and marched into the daylight. Once outside she spread her wings and took to the air. Aramais closed the door and turned back to the kitten, settling down to feed it.

“Well,” said Elaran. “I cannot say I approve.”

“Nor do I,” said Aramais, “but she’s part of this group and as such she must work to its benefit else she is no use to us. The only way we are going to survive is by surviving, not by sending ourselves off one at a time to face death. Rui can fly, we cannot, that gives her a considerable advantage. We need her but not if she’s going to cast us aside at a whim. Cat she may well be but no ordinary chaser of mice and string, if she were I would not fault her. But she is much more than that and as such needs to learn she can and will be held accountable for her actions, as we all must be.”

“But she was in season! Surely…”

Aramais clenched his fist and ground his teeth together. “My dear lady I have not had sex in five years, and believe me I would like nothing better than to tear off to the nearest tavern, preferably with a certain Snow Elf, and not be seen again for a month but that is a luxury we can ill afford at the moment, and if I can endure it then so must the damned cat!”

“Five years? Indeed?” said Elaran. “Well I suppose we now know why the palms of your hands are so smooth.”

“Very good, I am so delighted to know Sarrin’s wit has infected you. Look Elaran I do not care to abuse small creatures but we must be able to rely on one another! Rui is not free to pick and choose her missions and she needs to understand that!”

“I know,” said Elaran, “but did you have to be so rough? She’s so very small!”

“I did not and would not harm her and she knows it. I am guilty of frightening her. The truth is were she to have gone for my very eyes I could not have hurt her. And were she in danger I would come to her aid as quickly as any other’s. If she stands by us we will most certainly stand by her. Has she seen anything?”

“She says nay, but after such a rain storm I am not surprised.”

“Nor am I. Dammit! Where has Whitebird gone to?”

“Is it possible he went back to the old cabin, to where we sent Derith and Sarrin?” asked Ryskul.

“I fail to see why he would without finding a way to tell us, but since we cannot find him here then let us depart.”

Aramais finished feeding the kitten, and together the group set out for the old cabin where they had first met Meri-Suzanne. Derith and Sarrin were sitting together by the hearth, sharing a mug of hot mulled wine, and were startled to see Aramais come barging into the room.

“Have you seen Whitebird?” he asked.

“No,” said Sarrin. “Why? Is he not with you?”

“No,” said Aramais. “He departed the night before last and we have not seen him since. We have searched everywhere we can think to and he is not to be found. We had hoped he had made his way back here.”

Sarrin rose to his feet, looking concerned. “How can that be? How can he have just vanished! Have you asked Rui to look?”

“Yes, Rui has looked, she found no trace of him.” Aramais felt himself grow cold, and his stomach began to feel ill. “Something fell has happened to him, I know. And it is too late to search again! DAMN THIS TORMENTING EVIL!”

The kitten cried out, frightened by the shouting, and Aramais willed himself to calm down. Shouting and having fits would solve nothing. He was a seasoned warrior, he knew better than to behave this way. He was just adding strife to an already bad situation. He set the kitten down, then set about preparing something for it to eat. When next he spoke it was in a calm and level manner.

“We need to ask ourselves what Whitebird would do, where he would have gone.”

“Well he went to that cottage he saw,” said Elaran. “Did you check it?”

Aramais nodded. “I did. I saw no sign of disturbance. No one has been there. I even crept around behind the manor house to peer into the dungeon windows, he was not there either.”

Ryskul looked to Meri-Suzanne. “If your father’s guards had captured Whitebird, what would they have done with him?”

“I do not know! I was not permitted to know. My father said ladies had no business with such things. But if my father did catch a Snow Elf I would imagine that he… would want the diamond.” Her last few words were spoken at a near-whisper.

“That, I fear, would have been his fate,” said Derith, his voice equally soft.

“I know,” said Aramais quietly. “By now it is likely he has been butchered like a cow and the pieces sold off to the highest bidder. But I cannot lose hope so quickly. We have one place to search left to us, and that is inside the home of Meri-Suzanne’s father.”

“Rui says she will go,” said Elaran.

Aramais’ head snapped up, and he gave first Elaran and then Rui a look of astonishment.

“Rui would have the best chance of getting inside unseen, but it is likely that which we are seeking is papers. Bills of lading or sale. Can Rui read?”

“No,” said Elaran.

“But she can tell a mouse from a bat!” said Meri-Suzanne.

Aramais let out a brief, weary laugh. “Yes no doubt she can but what has that to do with anything?”

“My father is mad for organization,” said Meri-Suzanne. “Bills of lading and sale are kept on the third shelf of the book case, and all will be stamped with a bat in red wax. If my father captured Whitebird and sold him, the bills will be on top of the pile. If Rui brings us the first few bills then we could see for ourselves.”

“That’s a lot to ask of a kitty,” said Sarrin.

“It is,” said Aramais, “and dangerous as well.”

He looked towards the grey winged cat, who was busily washing the purple-stained kitten. “Well, what say you?”

Rui did not seem to hear him, but Elaran sighed. “She says she will go.”

“Very well then,” said Aramais. “We will let Rui go forth and search.” He walked over his pack and reached in, withdrawing a piece of dried meat. He cut it into small pieces, then gave it to Rui on a small plate.

Aramais we have very little meat to spare,” said Ryskul.

“I know, said Aramais, gazing at Rui. “But party members who are brave and helpful are entitled to extras.”

Rui gave no indication she heard him, but she ate the meat, purring. Then, as the darkness fell yet again, she let the cabin and set out for the palace of Meri-Suzanne’s father.

Disclaimer:

All original fiction and the characters, places and situations with them are copyright Alyx Shaw, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.

The characters, places and situations described in these stories are fictional unless otherwise stated in the story headings.

(C) 2008 Alyx Shaw