17
NOW, THE ORC army was leaving.
Dathor was standing up on the turret of Foxglove Peak, watching them leave and march towards the south, leaving him here.
How often had he fantasized of being the steward of this place himself? How often had he dreamed of being a man who could order others around, the sort who had to have his bidding done? Here he was, everything he’d ever wanted right in his lap, and he was second-guessing everything.
Why had he done all this?
Was it only to come home?
He did care about the orc cause, that was the truth of it. How could he not, when he had been treated the way he’d been treated for his entire life?
But when it came down to it, he could not care about it in the way the others did.
Was it because he was half elf?
Not because he sympathized with the elves, but simply because he was outside everything. He was not accepted anywhere, which meant he was not on the orcs’ side and that he was also not on the elves’s side.
So, he could see it differently, and he was wondering what exactly he’d had a hand in wreaking on the entire country?
It would have happened without me, he told himself, and this was likely true. He had assisted, but he had not caused it all to come about.
Even so, at one point, he’d had the ear of the High Chieftain, and he hadn’t fought to keep it.
Because of her.
The orcs could not be allowed to simply destroy all of Lothnehil, however, and he did not know how to stop that.
The problem, truly, was High King Findas, not all of the elves.
That was when it came to him.
An alliance.
With the fair elves who already hated Findas, and he knew there were a number of them. All the academics. All the tradesman. Anyone who cared about progress, in other words. Those people did not want Findas dragging them back kicking and screaming into some dark age of yesteryear.
And he knew just how to bring an alliance like that about, too, from his dealings with Aerhril.
The Valaedor had an inherent sense of superiority, but they also felt guilty about it.
One of the ways to play upon this was to convince them that they could use their superiority for the good of everyone.
If the orcs came to them, asking for help, playing upon their nobility, saying that ending Findas would be good for the entire country, they could be convinced.
If they positioned the nae Oir as the civilized and intelligent side, moving against the idiocy of Findas and the silvans, the backward and uneducated silvans, well, it would go through easily.
The orcs did not need to capture the south, they needed to get the south on their side. The fair elves would take the capital for them.
Then, on the other side of the war, the fair elves would be convinced to make all manner of laws to protect the orcs, as long as it was predicated on their progressive tendencies, their superior rationality, their noble natures.
He well knew that it was the nature of all creatures to cast themselves as the morally upright faction and their enemies as morally bankrupt.
The elves thought the orcs were morally challenged. He would not necessarily say that the elves thought the word “evil,” but it amounted to that.
Orcs came from a land of fire and smoke. They were tall and burly and strong. They spoke in a language of guttural sounds. They were fearsome. They were sometimes violent, though not truly more violent than the elves themselves.
The elves saw them as primitive. They saw themselves as civilized. They saw the orcs as frightening and uncontrolled. They saw themselves as restrained and kind.
What was funny was that the orcs thought very similar things about the elves, only they prized what the elves saw as primitive as being natural and good and right. The elves were seen as cold and calculating, unpredictable and unnatural.
This alliance, it would have to make the fair elves think they were “saving” the orcs. Maybe even saving them from themselves, from their own worser natures.
For that matter, Dathor thought as he watched the army march off, perhaps the orcs could stand a bit of saving.
Am I an elf? he thought to himself. Do I think of myself as inherently superior to the orcs?
He mused over it.
He did not want to think such a thing, because he wanted to be above it all, able to point it out in others and therefore immune.
But was that not just its own sort of superiority?
He thought he was superior, he realized. Perhaps all creatures thought it. Perhaps it was impossible not to think it. But, he supposed, he must challenge the notion from time to time. It was a blind area in his brain. He must not allow it to think it was always correct.
Should he run right after the high commander now? He could go on horseback, trot right next to the man and tell him the plan for the alliance with the fair elves. If he was going to do it, now was the time, before the high commander was gone.
But he did not think he could convince the orc if he went now. He needed time to carefully plot what he might say, needed time to find the exact words to convince the other man.
He would have to wait.
And then, at some point, he would have to go, seek out the high commander, maybe even find the High Chieftain, who was with another faction of the orc army. He would have to leave Aerhril to do it.
Would she be his again before he left?
Had he truly done all of this for her?
He thought that it would be the fiercest of ironies to win the entire war and to lose her in the process.
HAFINDEL AND AERHRIL met in her chambers again.
“He’s antsy,” said Hafindel. “I do not think any lasting damage has been done to him. He may never speak without that rasp, I suppose, but he is not going to die. He is going to heal and be just fine.” They were speaking of Celedin, of course.
“I think you are correct,” said Aerhril. “That is, if he doesn’t kill himself, because that is what he said to me today, that he thought he should end it.”
Hafindel regarded her. “I’m surprised you did not go and fetch him a revolver.”
“So am I,” admitted Aerhril, feeling a bit ashamed of herself.
“It’s all right,” said Hafindel with a sigh.
“I do remember the time, was it only a month ago, when he was in his cups and he took you by the throat and slammed you into the wall again and again and said that if you did not learn to control yourself, he was going to choke the life out of you one of these days.”
“He apologized when he was sober,” said Aerhril with a lilt to her voice. “He said he did not mean it.”
“Well, then, all is forgiven,” said Hafindel darkly.
Aerhril put a hand to her forehead. “We need a plan. And it cannot be for me to try to get free and go to warn the other castles and keeps in the Silvarenna ahead of the orc army, because he has already guessed this is my plan and he will prevent it if I try.” She thought of the conversation they’d had of his never letting her out of his sight.
“This is the orc, Dathor? He will prevent it?”
“Yes,” said Aerhril.
“Did he guess it because you are too free with him?”
“No,” said Aerhril. “It is only that it is a very obvious plan, I suppose. Anyway, it was foolish to think that I could do it. I thought perhaps it should be me because he would protect me—”
“Will he protect you?”
“Yes,” said Aerhril.
“But does he care about you? It seems he hates you.”
“Yes, I suppose he does,” said Aerhril. “He has his reasons. I have done things to hurt him.”
Hafindel lifted her chin, looking her over.
“But there are layers to his hatred of me. There is a texture to it. It is not so simple as his trying to hurt me. He wants me to suffer but he also would protect me. I am certain of it.” She swallowed.
“Even so, it should not be me, and I do not say this out of cowardice, I promise you. Instead, it must be someone he never notices, someone who can slip away without his ever realizing she has slipped away.”
“I think it must be me, then,” said Hafindel in understanding.
“No, not you!” Aerhril grimaced, sitting down heavily on her own bed, which was not made, because there were not servants enough to do all the chores that needed done. “Oh, dear, actually, I suppose you would be exactly the person for it.”
Hafindel nodded briskly. “When should I go?”
“No, no, no, not you,” said Aerhril, reaching up to take the other woman’s hands, pulling her down onto the bed next to her. “I cannot lose you. You are the only other person who knows about Celedin. You are the only person I can confide in. I will fall apart without you. You must stay.”
Hafindel was quiet.
“Say you will stay,” said Aerhril. “Say we will find someone else.”
“Who else could it be, my lady? The women who were guests at your wedding? The wardenness, perhaps, who is used to being waited on hand and foot by servants? Will she travel well in the wilderness, will she know how to build a fire or where to take shelter to sleep at night? Will she be able to find her way to some other castle further south?”
“But Hafindel—”
“How about one of the women who has a small child? That seems entirely like the sort of person we should send.”
“You have made your point,” said Aerhril, sighing, resigned.
She did not want to examine the part of her that was not even truly certain they should do this at all.
She did not enjoy being occupied by the orc army, of course, and she was horrified at all the death and the danger and everything else.
But she was not certain that the elves had not sort of brought it on their own heads. They had been awful to the orcs.
She was not on the orcs’ side.
But she felt she could not entirely align herself with her own people either.
And, of course, she could not say this to Hafindel, who would be horrified by such a sentiment. Aerhril said nothing of the sort, then.
“I shall go as soon as I can,” said Hafindel. “I’ll need to put together some supplies, hide them, and then I’ll need to wait for the right moment. Once I see it, I will go. We’ll say our goodbyes now. You will only know I’ve gone when you can’t find me anymore.”
“And if others ask after you, because they have not seen you, I will say that I have seen you recently, somewhere, and I’ll conceal the fact you’ve gone for some time that way.”
“It’s a good plan, my lady.” Hafindel nodded.
“But I don’t like it. I don’t like putting it on you. You have too much on your head already.”
“Well, rest easy in that it may be impossible,” said Hafindel.
“There are orcs on every entrance. I am allowed out to fetch water and the like, but the well is in sight of the doors and I cannot stray. It will take some sort of miracle, some orc away from his post, some orc sleeping on watch, I cannot say. It may take weeks. It may be tomorrow. It may never happen.”
“Perhaps not,” said Aerhril, trying not to sound cheered by the fact.
“And I could also get caught and killed,” said Hafindel matter-of-factly.
“No, you must not do this thing, then!” Aerhril drew herself up. “Let us simply forget we ever spoke of this.”
“No. We cannot live in a country ruled by orcs,” said Hafindel. “They are savage beasts. We are better than that.”
Aerhril felt something shift uncomfortably inside her at Hafindel’s pronouncement, and she strove not to allow it to show on her face.
“I will not fail you, my lady,” said Hafindel, getting up from the bed. “I will not fail our people. I will not fail the country of Lothnehil.”
Aerhril did not know what to say to that.
She did not think she had ever had such loyalty to this country.
She had never been loyal to anything at all in that way.
Except perhaps him.
And look how that had turned out.