Ilkar was glad of the traditional opening speech required of any visiting an elven rainforest village, which included reasons for the visit and a request for lodging should it be desired. Kild'aar stepped forward, her face severe.
'As a child of this village, you are welcome, as is the child of Drech with you,' she said, cocking her head at Ren behind him. 'But these strangers must go. Now.'
Ilkar started at Kild'aar's vehemence.
'What I ask affects us all,' said Ilkar. 'Calaians and Balaians alike. Julatsa stands on the verge of extinction. The Heart is buried and not enough mages remain on Balaia to raise it to beat life through the college again. What consequences for the elves of Calaius if it should fail? Please, let us all get out of the rain and talk.'
'Julatsan magic has nothing to do with those who stand near you,' said Kild'aar.
'Until you hear me, you will not know how wrong you are,' said Ilkar. 'Kild'aar, have things changed so much in my absence that you cannot even begin to extend the hand of friendship?'
'Perhaps they have,' said Kild'aar. 'A great crime has been committed here. Strangers are to blame. And now illness is sweeping the village. You saw the fishing boats tied up; it's because there are too few fit to crew them. Who's to say the strangers didn't bring the sickness with them? Who's to say those you stand with don't support the desecrators?'
Ilkar held up a hand. 'Wait, wait. You're losing me.' He looked at Kild'aar and then past her into the scared and angry faces of those behind her. 'We saw evidence of illness in Ysundeneth when we landed there three days ago, but what's been desecrated?'
'Ysundeneth has sickness?' Kild'aar ignored his question and looked around at her village folk. 'Strangers visit there.' She shrugged.
'But not here,' said Ilkar. 'And it may not be the same sickness. Why don't you let our mages see? We helped elves in Ysundeneth.'
Kild'aar sighed. 'In truth, we're stretched,' she said. 'We can't find a reason or a cure and it strikes at random. Tomorrow the victim could be me, any of us. Our people have started to die.'
'Then let us try and help you,' implored Ilkar. 'These people behind me, they're much more than just friends. I love them like family. They are good people and I swear on every creature in the forest that they have nothing to do with any desecration.' He paused. 'Kild'aar, what has been desecrated?'
The elven woman looked older and more exhausted as she looked at him then, biting her lip. 'Aryndeneth,' she whispered.
'What?' Ilkar's mouth was suddenly dry, the drumming rain on his head forgotten. 'How?'
'We don't know,' said Kild'aar. 'But we know Al-Arynaar have been killed.' She stopped. 'One moment.'
Ilkar nodded and watched as she turned and spoke in low tones to a group of young and old elves. He saw nods and shakes of heads, he saw fingers being pointed and he heard sharp tones. In the end though, it was clear Kild'aar had got her way.
'Take your friends, if such they are, to your father's house. They can take drinks from the firepot if they are so inclined. I'll wait for you. There's something you have to see.'
'And what of my parents?' asked Ilkar, knowing it was the question she had been waiting for and he had been avoiding.
'What do you think, Ilkar? You've been away too long.' She shook her head. 'We needed people like you here and you didn't even send word that you were alive.'
She turned and walked away, taking the crowd with her, a murmur growing as they dispersed into smaller groups. Ilkar turned back to The Raven, catching Ren's eye as he did.
'Did you hear all that?' he asked her.
She nodded and put a hand on his arm. 'Are you all right?'
'We didn't get on,' he said. 'Or else I might have come back when I was supposed to.'
'That wasn't what I asked.'
'I know,' he said, but in truth he wasn't sure how he felt. He hadn't worked out whether he expected his parents to be alive or not; and finding out they weren't had left him immediately saddened but hardly gripped with grief.
'Hey!'
Ilkar looked over at Hirad. The barbarian was standing with his arms outstretched and palms up, his long dark hair dripping with the rain that still fell with no sign of letting up.
'Sorry, Hirad.'
'When you've quite finished nattering in elvish, I wondered if there was any danger of you letting us in on the big secret. Are they going to run us through or let us dry out a little?'
'Well, I had to haggle,' said Ilkar, wandering back up to Hirad and patting his soaking wet cheek. 'They were concerned that you were too ugly to be allowed into such a beautiful setting. There are children here after all.'
Denser laughed aloud, hugging Erienne to him. She too could not suppress a smile. The comment had been worth it just for that. Hirad swung round to the Xeteskian.
'You haven't heard what they said about you and that miserable mould you call a beard,' he said to Denser.
'At least it doesn't frighten children.'
'Only because they don't understand,' said Hirad. 'Scares the shit out of me that you think it's attractive.'
'Let's get in out of the rain, shall we?' said The Unknown. 'I don't know about you but I'm getting a little tired of this particular shower.'
Ilkar nodded. Once again, a couple of sentences from the big man and they all fell into line.
'Follow me. And don't make a mess. This is my house you're about to see.'
He took Ren's hand and led the way into the village, uncertain of what they were about to face and with the sceptical eyes of the people upon them. There was so much more to be done than he'd hoped. He sighed. It had seemed so simple. Just show up, get trained mages and gather a friendly support network. He should have known. When The Raven were involved, somehow things were never simple.
Chapter 20
'Why won't you let Denser and Erienne help you?' Ilkar was fast losing his patience.
He'd seen The Raven to his house – it had been almost exactly the same as when he'd last seen it – and had sought out Kild'aar very soon after, suddenly anxious to be anywhere else than in his past. But his enquiries into how many villagers were actually sick were met with vague estimates and his offers of help with a blank refusal. The house they were headed for was no more than fifty yards across the village but this was the third time he'd asked.
'Because you must understand first,' said Kild'aar.
'I understand already,' he replied. 'People in my village are dying and you won't let two brilliant mages try and save them because of your intractable distrust of every non-elf. I don't remember it being this way when I left.'
'Ilkar, you have been away a very long time. And you've been with strangers for all that time. You are the one who has changed, not us. Even your skin is light. And now we're seeing good reasons why we've been ever suspicious.'
'But you need help.'
'It can wait,' snapped Kild'aar. 'Gyal's tears, Ilkar, you come wandering back into our village a hundred years after you left it and you expect us to accept you with open arms? And your Balaian friends? Maybe over there people are quick to trust. Here, as you well know, trusting the wrong people has led to so much harm.'
Ilkar had to concede the point though he would never admit it to her. They had never seen eye to eye. Truth was, Ilkar hadn't seen eye to eye with anyone. Except his brother. And even that bond was gone now. Buried under a hundred years of separation.
'What happened to my parents?' he asked.
Kild'aar stopped briefly. 'They died of old age, not knowing whether their son was alive or dead. Whether he had made a success of his talent or whether he had perished in the Mana Bowl or in some petty conflict of the Balaians. Perhaps the question should be, what happened to you?'
'It's a long story,' said Ilkar.
'And one we don't have time for at the moment,' said Kild'aar, setting off again across the soaking village. The rain was beginning to ease at last, blue cracks in the heavy grey sky.