The fall of Highwatch

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hweilan stood dumbfounded. Had Lendri just called the man by name? The man had definitely called Lendri by name. But was he a man? His skin was pale as Lendri's, but his breath wasn't steaming in the frigid air, and he seemed quite comfortable in the cold, with no cloak, coat, or hood.

Two of the little hunters came toward her, weapons held ready in one hand, the other reaching out to take her bow.

She pulled back. "No!"

The hunters stepped back, and a dozen spears lowered in her direction.

"Voi!" Lendri shouted. "Ele vahat sun!" He had already been disarmed. Even his quiver was gone.

"Now, now, Lendri, you don't give orders to the Ujaiyen," said the armored man. He sounded amused. "Not anymore."

He walked off the slope, pushing his way through the brush and past the hunters to approach Hweilan. She stiffened and stood her ground.

The man looked her up and down, and reached one gloved hand toward her.

She stepped back, raising the bow before her and reaching for her knife.

"Easy, easy," said the man. "Don't be skittish. You've got nowhere to skit."

Hweilan risked a glance over her shoulder and saw two of the little hunters behind her, both holding spears.

"Menduarthis, please-" said Lendri.

"I'm not going to hurt your friend," Menduarthis told Lendri, though he kept his eyes fixed on Hweilan. He smiled. "Not yet, anyway."

Before Hweilan could react, Menduarthis's hand shot forward and pushed down her hood.

"Well!" His eyebrows shot upward and he smiled. "I go out for a night of hunting beasts and instead happen upon a rare flower."

He stroked her cheek with the back of one finger. Hweilan stepped back and brought her knife out and forward in a quick swipe. Menduarthis pulled back in time, her blade barely missing his finger.

"Ho!" Menduarthis laughed. "This flower has thorns, I see! Don't worry, little one. I'm not out to peel your petals."

"Leave me alone," she said.

Menduarthis chuckled. "Not tonight. Why so unfriendly?"

"Menduarthis, please!" Lendri called. "Allow me to explain!"

Still watching Hweilan-she couldn't tell if his gaze was lecherous, curious, or simply amused; a little of all three she suspected-he called out something in a tongue she didn't recognize. Two hunters lowered their spears at Lendri, and all around her Hweilan heard many blades leaving their scabbards.

"Know what I told them?" said Menduarthis.

"No," Hweilan replied.

"I told them that if your friend over there opens his mouth again, my friends are to kill him." He pushed at the inside of one cheek with his tongue, thinking, then said, "A shame, really. Truth be told I always liked Lendri. I don't suppose you've seen his little wolf friend around, have you? What's its name? "Itching'?"

Hweilan glared at him. "Hechin."

"No matter. Let's talk about you. What's your name?"

Hweilan's glare deepened to a scowl. She didn't lower the knife.

"Not very friendly, is she, Lendri?" Menduarthis called out. When Lendri didn't answer, he looked over his shoulder at the elf and said, "Oh, yes. You aren't to speak. So glad you're paying attention."

When Menduarthis turned back to Hweilan, his gaze had hardened. The hint of lechery and curiosity was gone. The amusement was still there, but it was peeking from behind a very dark curtain.

"Let me tell you something, little flower," he said. "The world is not a nice place. Fools say it's unforgiving, but that's why they're fools. The world doesn't forgive because it doesn't blame. And the world doesn't blame because it doesn't care. So here's my little lesson for you tonight: You can name yourself, or others will name you. And you might not like what they call you. So I'll ask you one more time." He leaned in closer, just beyond the point of her knife. "What's your name?"

Hweilan's grip tightened around her knife, but her hand was shaking. Something about the tone in Menduarthis's voice-she felt as if Kelemvor had just placed her in his scale, and her next words would decide which way she swung.

She licked her lips and said, "H-Hweilan. My name is Hweilan."

Menduarthis straightened, closed his eyes, and breathed in deep through his nose. "Ah… Hweilan," he said, pronouncing it very carefully, savoring each syllable. "A flower indeed. And I even like the thorns." He bowed. "Well met. My hunters tell me that a band of frantic Nar ride not a half-mile from here, and one of the Frost Folk leads them. Friends of yours?"

"No! They attacked us."

"And what do you know of the thing that rides with them? Big brute with black eyes."

"I know it attacked us."

"And the ravens? A whole murder of them coming to your rescue?"

She shuddered at the memory. "I don't know."

Menduarthis held her gaze. "Don't know or won't tell?"

"Ravens hit the man. I ran. We ran. Lendri and me. We thought we'd lost them, and then you arrived."

"And here we are, yes?"

Hweilan shrugged.

"Back to the matter at hand, then," said Menduarthis. "You were about to hand over your weapons."

Hweilan looked to Lendri. The elf kept his jaw clenched, but he gave her a careful nod.

"No," she said.

"No?" said Menduarthis.

"I'll surrender the knife," she said. "But the bow belonged to my father. It's all I have left of him. I'll give my life before I give the bow."

"Hm." Menduarthis peeled off his gloves with his teeth, then tucked them into his belt. "Dear Father is dead, I take it?"

Hweilan's scowl deepened.

"Don't take offense," said Menduarthis, his tone light and mocking again. "My father is dead too. At least I think he is. But I assure you, Hweilan, I am no thief. I don't even want to keep your little steel thorn there, though I do appreciate the offer. I simply don't want you causing any trouble on the way. The Ujaiyen's tigers can be a bit… ill-tempered."

"On the way to where?"

"To where we're taking you."

She waited for more explanation. It didn't come, and she knew it wouldn't. "I promise I won't cause any trouble," she said.

"Well, I do appreciate that. But we hardly know each other. How do I know I can trust you?"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"What makes you think you have a choice?" He waved his fingers at the hunters surrounding them. "Unless you have more ravens up your sleeve… well, I'm afraid I have the advantage, yes?"

"I don't have any arrows," said Hweilan. "I can't even bend the thing enough to string it-much less use it!"

"Then why hang on to it?"

"Because it was my father's!"

"Anything else of his you'd like to hang on to?"

"J-just the bow."

"Hm." Menduarthis folded his hands in front of his face and hummed while he considered it. He looked around at the little hunters, then back to Hweilan and said, "No."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, and his voice went hard and cold again, "although you do seem like a most trustworthy little flower, right now, you need to understand who is in command here. Me. Hand over the bow."

"No. You'll have to kill me first."

"Will I?" Menduarthis laughed and looked to Lendri. "Is she really that foolish?"

Lendri said nothing.

"Oh, yes," said Menduarthis. "Can't speak." He let out an exaggerated sigh-Hweilan noticed that his breath still didn't steam, even in the cold. He raised his voice and said, "The elf can answer this question. Nobody kill him."

Lendri fixed him with a cold glare, then looked around at the hunters.

"Ah, yes," said Menduarthis. "They don't speak the language. Can't understand what I just said. You are paying attention! I guess you'd better keep quiet after all." He turned back to Hweilan. "Last chance. Give me the bow and knife, or I take them."

"No."

He clucked his tongue inside his cheek. "You like magic, Hweilan?"

"Not really."

"Hm. Pity." Menduarthis planted both his heels together, stood very straight, and waved both hands in an intricate pattern. "You probably aren't going to like this, then."

Menduarthis's hands shot forward, and with them came a wind with the force of a dozen winter gales-but focused in one thick stream that flowed around him. His cape billowed out like a pennant. Storm and darkness hit Hweilan, then swallowed her.