Kante raised a hand in polite dismissal. "No need. You always have my service."
He offered his hand to Leanalham. This made the girl even more uneasy, but she took it as he helped her onto the dock. Leesil lifted the chest of skulls and slipped his arms into its rope harness. Osha and Urhkar handed baggage off to their newly arrived comrades.
As Wynn stepped from the barge behind the others, the first young an-maglahk glared at Leesil and pointed insistently to the chest. When Leesil returned only a silent stare, the young one's expression hardened. Two of his companions dropped their baggage and closed in as he reached out.
Before Leesil could strike, Magiere stepped in front of him, shielding him from any assault. Sgaile shifted instantly between her and the others.
"No!" he snapped. "Move on!"
The young anmaglahk looked at Sgaile as if he had committed some violation. Osha, who had always kept silent behind his elders, startled Wynn with his harsh tone.
"He is bearer of the dead," Osha said in Elvish to the others."Leshil, descendant of Eillean."
The young anmaglahk before Sgaile blinked twice. He glanced once at Leesil and Magiere, both still poised for a fight.
"I beg forgiveness," he said.
"Attend your duty," Urhkar added flatly.
The four anmaglahk quickly took up the baggage. Not one of them said anything more.
Solid wood of the dock and then sound earth beneathWynns feet were quite welcome, but Sgaile rushed them all onward. Perhaps he was not so confident of their reception; or he neared the end of his mission and longed for it to be over.
Wynn wanted to study this new place, to poke about the stalls and observe how exchanges were made, but she found herself jogging half the time just to keep up. All around them, elves paused at the sight of Magiere's dark hair and pale skin-and Wynn's own short stature and round olive-toned face.The four anmaglahk with the baggage split into twos, a pair walking at each side of their passage. No one questioned or challenged them for bringing humans into this place.
A way past the shoreside bazaar, Sgaile halted before an enormous elm. He pulled aside the door hanging and motioned them inside. Only Wynn, Magiere, Leesil, and Chap entered, and Sgaile remained in the doorway.
"Be comfortable," he said. "You are safe and my caste will make certain of it. But do not leave this dwelling without Osha or another I designate. I will send food and drink as quickly as possible."
Leesil stepped toward him, and his mouth was taut in anger. Before he uttered a word, Sgaile cut him off.
"Soon," he said, and his expression seemed troubled. "You will speak to Most Aged Father soon. But heed me, Leshil. Do not leave this dwelling until I come for you."
He released the curtain and was gone.
Magiere put her hand on Leesil's shoulder, then began pulling the chest off his back.
Wynn believed that Sgaile would keep his word, though Leesil's impatience was mounting. No words of comfort from her would do any good, so she looked about their new quarters.
The elm's interior was one room, though larger than the family space in Gleann's home. Soft cushions were stacked to one side along with a rolled-up felt carpet of cerulean blue. The floor was bare earth instead of moss. There were ledges growing from the tree walls for beds or seats with cream blankets of downy wool folded upon each. A wide curtain of gray-green, like the clothes of the Anmaglahk, hung from a mounted oak rod across theroom's back. Wynn pulled it aside and found a small stone tub akin to Gleann's.
"Our guest house has been well prepared," she said.
Leesil's amber eyes flashed as he turned on her. "It's a cell."
By early evening, Leesil paced the tree's interior, berating himself for his stupidity.
Magiere and Wynn were captives, and he had no one to blame but himself. A wooden tray piled with fruit and a water pitcher had been brought, but he didn't touch any of it. There was also a glass lantern, prelit, that sent an aroma of pine needles through their cell. Some of their baggage had been delivered-but not their weapons.
To make matters worse, Magiere watched him with that same silent tension on her face that she'd worn throughout their time in Venjetz. She sat vigil on him, waiting to see if he would lose himself again.
Chap was the only one who could walk out if he wished. No elf so far had interfered with the comings and goings of the majay-?. But the dog just lay on the floor with his head on his paws.
Though Leesil seethed over their situation, it was mostly frustration. At least one of his companions might suggest something helpful. Were they any closer at all to finding Nein'a?
"What do you think happens next?" Magiere asked.
She sat on a wall shelf with one leg pulled up, and Leesil's frustration faded.
Magiere was just worried about him-about them all. She looked paler than usual, and the sleeves of her dark-yellow elven shirt were lightly marred from the journey. With her head tipped forward, black hair hung around her cheeks. He reached down and hooked her hand with two of his fingers.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Whatever comes, it'll depend on what this leader of theirs wants… this Most Aged Father. He put Sgaile through a great deal to bring us here, so I'd assume this meeting won't wait long."
"He wants something from you," Magiere whispered.
Leesil saw the vicious narrowing of her eyes and wondered if her irises flickered to black for an instant.
"Of course he does," he answered.
She watched him, probably wondering what reckless notion he had in his head.
"And that means he'll pay for it," Leesil added. "Perhaps he wants it badly enough to release my mother. It's been so many days since we left the mountains. I thought surely I'd find her by now… seen for myself that she's all right."
Magiere stood up suddenly, and Leesil flinched, expecting another tongue-lashing.
She slipped her arms around his waist. The studs of her hauberk clicked against the rings on his.
Chap got up with a warning rumble, and the doorway curtain swung aside as Sgaile stepped in.
"Come, Leshil," he said. "It is time."
"Alone?" Magiere said. "I don't think so."
The curtain lifted once more, and another anmaglahk stood in the doorway without entering. Something about her put Leesil on edge.
She was slender like a willow, with thin lips and a narrow face, but her features were otherwise pure elven. Her hair was like the color of sun-bleached wheat and hung in slight waves.
This one wasn't as adept as Urhkar, or even Sgaile, at hiding her feelings. Her loathing of him was plain to the eyes. Leesil nearly felt it crawl on his skin like dry heat from a weaponer s forge.
It was different from En’nish’s personal and manic hatred. This woman took in the sight of Magiere touching him, and Wynn sitting on the ledge next to Chap, as if she would burn this long-nurtured tree just to cleanse it of any human taint.
"You will come," she said in Belaskian."Now."
"He's not going anywhere," Magiere answered. "Your leader can come here to speak to him."
The look in the woman's eyes almost made Leesil back up and pull Magiere away. She said something to Sgaile in Elvish.
Sgaile stepped close to Leesil, leaning in and speaking softly. "Leshil, you must come. This is Frethfare, the hand of Most Aged Father. He cannot come to you, so Frethfare carries his… request that you come to him-as a courtesy. All will be made clear."
Leesil only half-trusted anything Sgaile said, for one could bend one's word without breaking it.
"And then I see my mother?" he asked.
Sgaile hesitated. "I cannot say. That is for Most Aged Father to decide."