Part 22 (1/2)
”What?” Eldri asked. ”What do you see?”
Roca described it. ”They must have brought materials up from the plains. They haven't been cutting that rock out of these mountains. We would have noticed.” She pulled back and focused on him. ”Does it sound familiar?”
”Yes.” Eldri spoke grimly. ”A battering ram.”
No one expected Roca and Brad to stay out of war councils anymore. Roca sat next to Eldri at the table, and Brad sat near Garlin. Shannar, the military expert, was next to Channil, the senior midwife at Windward and the closest they had to a chief physician. Shaliece, the Memory, also sat with them, focused and attentive.
Over the past months, Roca had come to respect these people. Life here was rough and uncompromising, but it also had an integrity she valued. She wished she could distill its positive qualities and pour that essence into the cold, glittering Imperial Court. The man the a.s.sembly had intended her to marry, the reputedly incomparable Prince Dayj, could learn a lot from these people. Not that he would; Roca knew her former intended would never view Eldri's people as anything more than inferior beasts.
The irony was that Eldri probably had the blood of the ancient Ruby queens and kings flowing in his veins, far more than Dayj.
It had taken her a while to realize how much Brad disconcerted the inhabitants of Windward, who had never met him before. He apparently resembled a G.o.d from Lyshrioli mythology, a fertility prince no less.
The G.o.d's hair was the night sky, so the people here found nothing strange in the idea that he came from ”the stars.” None of them had dark hair, skin, or eyes, and his coloring fascinated them. He took it in stride, though he seemed fl.u.s.tered to be considered the incarnation of a deity. Roca could imagine that with his good nature, good looks, and reputation for fertility, he hadn't had any trouble wooing his girlfriend in the village.
Right now, however, he was scowling at Eldri as he spoke in Trillian. ”Yes, the port is only one house.
But it represents something much larger. If Avaril's men murder a Ruby heir, the repercussions will be so severe, you can't begin to imagine them.”
Garlin regarded him dourly. ”Would you care to tell Avaril?”
Eldri's frustration was so strong, it felt like fog against Roca's skin. ”You make dire proclamations,” he told Brad. ”But you offer no viable alternatives.”
”We're working on the explosives,” Brad said.
”Do they explode?” Garlin asked.
Brad grimaced. ”Not much. Yet.”
Although Roca didn't speak Trillian well, she had improved over the past months. ”What about other idea-tunnel through chasm walls to escape into northern mountains?”
The Memory held up her hand. When Eldri inclined his head, she said, ”I have retrieved my Memories of every route mapped over the ages. Avaril's mountain climbers have blocked them all.”
”I do not understand this 'mountain climbing.' ” Shannar glared at Brad as if he had invented the activity rather than just given them the terminology. ”What sane person would hammer spikes in a wall and swing from them on a rope?”
Eldri c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. ”It works, Shannar. Cousin Avaril may be a harsh man, but he is not stupid.”
Roca's baby suddenly gave a hearty kick. She rested her hand on her abdomen, aware of a pain with no connection to the child's robust activity. It devastated her to know how much death threatened his incipient life. ”Have we news of the plains?” she asked. ”Maybe the Dalvador army comes here now.”
”We've seen no one on the trail,” Garlin said.
”If only we had a carrier pigeon,” Brad muttered.
The Lyshrioli looked at him blankly.
Shaliece lifted her hand. ”Could you repeat 'pije'?”
”Pigeon,” Brad said. ”A bird. It carries messages.”
”What is 'bird'?” Eldri asked.
”A small animal that flies,” Brad said.
”Perhaps we could build one,” Roca suggested.
Brad pushed his hand through his hair, which had grown out in fluffy curls. ”I've been thinking for a while about how I might cobble something together. If I cannibalize my palmtop and smart-knife, I could provide computerized direction to several small fliers. But I would hate to lose my equipment.”
He had already mentioned the idea to Roca, and she understood his hesitation. Without his palmtop, he couldn't communicate with the port, and he wanted the knife for protection. But the time might be coming when they needed to take desperate chances.
”What would be the purpose of such fliers?” Garlin asked.
”To carry messages to your people in the plains,” Brad said. ”According to the computers at the port, no one has read the ones I've sent there.”
”What new could these fliers tell anyone?” Shannar demanded, crankier than usual. ”That we need help?
I imagine they already know that. They haven't heard from us for ages. They don't come because they are fighting the rest of Avaril's army. It is the only explanation.”
Eldri frowned at him. ”Shannar, it is not a bad idea. Brad wishes to help.” Dark circles showed under his eyes. ”Maybe the battering ram won't work.” He didn't sound hopeful.
”Maybe it will.” Shannar stood and began to pace. ”It is time to destroy the bridge to Windward.”
”Easily said,” Garlin told him. ”Not easily done.”
Shannar glared at Brad. ”What about your 'bombs'?”
”We can try,” Brad said. ”I doubt the explosives we've made so far are strong enough to destroy something that ma.s.sive.”
”I cannot allow this.” Eldri crossed his arms on the table. ”I am the one Avaril wants. I should give...give myself...” His voice faded.
Shannar frowned. ”Are you suggesting a surrender?”
Eldri stared at the table, his eyes glazed.
”Bard Eldrinson?” Shannar asked.
Garlin lifted his hand, palm out. ”Wait. The sun G.o.ds speak with him.”
Shannar raised his eyebrows and Shaliece s.h.i.+fted in her seat. Brad started to speak, then stopped when Roca shook her head. She suspected everyone at the table knew perfectly well no deities were involved here.
Eldri slowly raised his head and looked around. He stared for a long moment at Garlin, as if trying to recognize his cousin.
”Eldri?” Garlin's voice was gentler than when he spoke to anyone else.
”I am...fine.” Eldri rubbed his eyes.
It tugged at Roca to see Eldri's bewildered expression. She wanted to protect him, to take him away from these people and their impossible demands. But she held back, knowing his pride wouldn't allow him to acknowledge what he considered a frailty.
Garlin resumed their discussion as if nothing had happened. ”No surrender. Avaril won't take prisoners.”