Traitor's Moon

trees behind them to the lowlands they’d traversed the day before.Somewhere beyond the southern horizon lay the Osiat coastline and the long isthmus that connected the peninsular country of Skala to her mainland territories. The rest of Urgazhi Turma were probably cooling their heels at Ardinlee by now.
    â€œYou’re sure we’ll reach them today?” she asked her father, riding beside her.
    â€œThe way you’ve driven us, we should get there before suppertime.” He pointed out a notch in the hills a few miles ahead. “There’s a village up there. Their cabin lies up a track just beyond.”
    â€œI hope they don’t mind a crowd.”
    The sun was a few hours from the western horizon when they reached the little hamlet nestled in the cup of a valley. Sheep and cattle grazed the hillsides, and she could hear dogs barking in the distance.
    â€œThis is the place,” said Micum, leading the way into town.
    Villagers gawked at them as they rode into the muddy square. There were no temples or inns here, just a little shrine to the Four, festooned with faded offerings.
    Just beyond the last cottage an enormous dead oak spread leafless branches against the sky. A trail wound up into the woods behind it. Following it for half a mile or so, they came out in a high meadow. A stream ran through it, and on the far side stood a small log house. A wolfskin was stretched to dry on one wall, and a spiky row of antlers of varying shapes and sizes decorated the roofline. In the kitchen garden near the door, a few speckled hens scratched among the dead leaves. A little way off, a byre sagged next to a corral. Half a dozen horses grazed there, and Beka recognized Alec’s favorite mare, Patch, and two Aurënen horses. The chestnut stallion, Windrunner, had been her parents’ gift to Alec during his first stay at Watermead. The black mare, Cynril, Seregil had raised from a colt.
    â€œThis is it?” she asked, surprised. It was peaceful. Rustic. Not at all the sort of place she associated with Seregil.
    Micum grinned. “This is it.”
    The sound of an ax came from somewhere beyond the byre. Rising in the stirrups, she called out, “Hello at the house!”
    The ax fell abruptly silent. An instant later Alec loped out from behind the byre, his fair, unkempt hair flying around his shoulders.
    Rough living had left him as shaggy and gaunt as he’d been the first time they’d met. Gone was the citified finery he’d adopted inRhíminee; his tunic was as patched and stained as any stable boy’s. He’d be nineteen in a few months’ time, she realized with surprise. Half ’faie and beardless, he looked younger to those who didn’t know him, and would for years. Seregil, who must be sixty now, had looked like a man of twenty for as long as she remembered.
    â€œI believe he’s glad to see us,” her father noted.
    â€œHe better be!” Dismounting, Beka met Alec in a rough hug. He felt as thin as he looked, but there was hard muscle under the homespun.
    â€œYslanti bëk kir!”
he exclaimed happily.
“Kratis nolieus í ’mrai?”
    â€œYou speak better Aurënfaie now than I do, Almost-Brother,” she laughed. “I didn’t understand a word of that after the greeting.”
    Alec stepped back, grinning at her. “Sorry. We’ve spoken almost nothing else all winter.”
    The beaten look he’d had back in Plenimar was gone; looking into those dark blue eyes, she read the signs of something her father had hinted at in his letter. She’d asked Alec once if he was in love with Seregil, and he’d been shocked by such a notion. It seemed the boy had finally figured things out. Somewhere in the back of her mind a tiny twinge of regret stirred, and she squelched it mercilessly.
    Releasing her, Alec clasped hands with Micum, then cast a questioning look at the uniformed riders. “What’s all this?”
    â€œI have a message for Seregil,” she told him.
    â€œMust be quite a message!”
    It is
, she thought.
One he’s been waiting for since before I was born
. “That’s going to take some explaining. Where is he?”
    â€œHunting up on the ridge. He should be back by sunset.”
    â€œWe’d better go find him. Time’s running short.”
    Alec gave her a thoughtful look but didn’t press. “I’ll get my horse.”
    Mounted bareback