The Queen’s Hall lay at the very heart of the Fort, and there we started our tour. Things communal to the entire fort’s population, such as libraries and schoolchambers for the elflings, surrounded it, going out from it like ripples on a pond.
Encircling this central section ran the ‘Ring’ passage, and from this radiated seven other main passages, going to the halls of the seven clans of Torr Elkyn. Each hall contained the private chambers of its members, along with those things communal to the clan, such as the laundry, the bath chambers, and the water closets.
“Well, you’ve seen pretty much everything,” Ystevan told me, after showing me around the hall of Clan Elendal, the clan to which the queen belonged—the clan halls were all pretty much identical, apparently. “There are some store rooms, which really aren’t all that interesting, and the stables, where we are headed.”
I pictured that fine stag standing in a stall letting me stroke its muzzle and stepped out eagerly to keep up with my long-legged guide.
Soon we came from a long passage into a square chamber with wooden-doored stalls going back into the rock, but disappointingly, there wasn’t a deer in sight. A number of tall, long-limbed horses looked over the majority of the doors, a bullock over another, and from several more came bleats and grunts respectively.
What did catch my attention was the filthy black horse that had just nickered at me from a nearby stall. The sound seemed one of great relief, as if the horse were saying, “Finally, a real person!”
“Hellion!” I exclaimed, rushing over to him. He nickered at me again, plainly pleased to see me. He wasn’t wearing a head collar, though, so I stopped to pick up a lead rope, which I wrapped around his muzzle so I could control his head. Then I stroked his muddy, sweat-stained face in delight, gripping the rope firmly when he seemed to decide that a nip would show his affection best.
“You seem to know that creature,” said a dry voice, and I looked over my shoulder to see an elfin groom flexing a hand accusingly at the horse. “He’s sent three of us for healing already and we still haven’t got him cleaned up.”
I was caught between apology and defensiveness. “He’s just nervous, but I hope he hasn’t hurt anyone too badly.”
“Nothing serious,” said the groom easily.
“Where did you find him?”
“I didn’t,” replied the groom. “A provider from Clan Tarabil brought the animal back with him from gathering this morning. Good job he was a Caller, or he’d never have got the nag here. The tack’s over there. It’s a bit of a mess, but nothing badly broken.”
My saddlebags! I gasped and hurried to the jumble of reeking, muddied leather, unfastening the bags quickly. Everything remained in place, including the bundle containing my mother’s jewelry. I showed Ystevan the jewels, a necklace of emeralds and some fine rings.
“I’m glad those aren’t lost,” I remarked, as he took them to look at and I went back to stroking Hellion, “but I'm even happier to have this friend returned.” I couldn’t help wondering if Ystevan would save his mount or his jewels first of all. He gave me an ironic look, clearly understanding my rather pointed remark, but I was busy looking the horse over.
Hellion was completely filthy and bore some small scratches, as well as his legs being somewhat cracked from cold and mud, but he stood squarely on all four hooves. Relief and thankfulness filled me—a horse galloping blind across a mountainside in a storm could easily break a leg.
I experienced a sudden pang of loneliness for Raven, whose absence was like having a part of me missing, and for my father, whom I’d recently had reason to believe I might also never see again. But I would see them again, and when I did, either Alliron or Ystevan was jolly well going to be with me!
I scratched Hellion behind the ears, pleased by his display of affection. “You’re a good boy,” I told him. “It’s not your fault the lightning scared you. When God gets as angry as that there’s only two things to do, run or hide, and between us I think we covered both of them!” Hellion searched my hands for tasty offerings, and I took them away before he could realize that I had nothing.
Several of the elfin grooms had just entered the stall again. They put a headcollar on the recalcitrant horse, and tied his head unceremoniously to the wall. Hellion rolled his eyes balefully, clearly waiting for them to come within range of his hooves.
I bit my lip. “I've very sorry, I would help you if I wasn’t wearing this lovely dress. Perhaps I'd better go and change...”
But the grooms poo-pooed this, and Ystevan led me away, laughing. “They’ll be fine.”
It occurred to me that I still hadn’t seen his fine mount. “Where’s your stag?”
Ystevan’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t think I'd keep him in here, do you? He runs free with his herd, when I don’t need him. Come here for a moment...” He lifted my hair carefully out of the way to fasten the emerald necklace around my neck. “Rather an erroneous statement of your power,” he remarked, giving me the rings to tuck in a pocket, “but still.”
The passage we were in presently emerged from the mountainside. Looking back, it appeared to be nothing more than a cave from outside. The mountain towered above us, and I now knew that this was the fort itself. Or that the fort lay within it, which amounted to the same thing. The entrance was well below the snowline but still quite high up. I peered left and right, looking for the crack in which I had sought refuge, but I couldn’t see it.
“By the way,” I asked Ystevan, who stood staring down into the forest and valley below us, “what’s a Caller?”
He smiled. “This,” he said softly, as the soft thud of hoofbeats approached and a fine stag came bounding towards us, antlers raised high. It slowed and sniffed suspiciously, clearly smelling me, but Ystevan held out his hand and it continued up to him and touched its nose to it. I caught my breath in awe as the late afternoon sun shone off the gleaming russet coat, and Ystevan’s calming presence allowed me to run my hands over the live animal.
“But you eat deer, don’t you?” I asked as we made our way back to Ystevan’s chambers for dinner.
“Yes,” replied Ystevan, “but we never ever Call an animal when we are hunting. That would be a gross misuse of the power, for when we Call them they come to us in perfect trust.”
~+~
“How did it go, child?” asked Haliath as we sat down to the light evening meal.
“Not bad,” I said. “She won’t help me herself, but I'm allowed to ask other people to do it.”
“Optimist,” muttered Ystevan dryly. “It was a great big No, and you know it.”
“Which audience were you in?” I asked sweetly.
The he-elf just snorted and speared a piece of cold venison.
Haliath looked from him to me and said no more on the matter. “Alvi is going home tomorrow,” she told her son.
Ystevan made a non-committal noise.
“It’s a long walk,” Alvidra added pointedly.
Ystevan raised his eyebrows. “You’d better set off nice and early, then.”
Alvidra seemed to find this statement immensely frustrating and almost threw down her fork on her plate to fix her mother with a look of appeal.
Haliath sighed. “Calm down, Alvi. But, Ystevan, must your tease your sister so?”
Ystevan turned a guileless look to his mother that did not quite conceal the mischief in his eyes. “But she’s so teaseable, mother, even you must admit it.” Haliath sighed, but her face grew rather firm, so Ystevan smiled at Alvidra. “Would you like me to Call a deer to take you home to Avragrain?”
“That would be nice,” said Alvidra rather stiffly.
How much did my presence have to do with the she-elf’s bad mood?
“A fine, fiery stag, perhaps,” added Ystevan, apparently quite unable to help himself.
“Mother!” wailed Alvidra in protest.
“The calmest, gentlest hind in the herd,” Ystevan said, apparently relenting. “Which will carry you all the way there at the gentlest of ambles, without running off once. We certainly don’t want anything befalling you just at the moment,” he added significantly.
Alvidra looked pleased and smug, and Haliath beamed, and I suddenly understood that there was a lot more to Alvidra’s moodiness than I’d realized.
~+~