Eban

24 - Elaine

It had been months since Elaine last saw him. There was nothing unusual about that. Most of the time they had together was spent during the winter months, when it was too cold for war and the most anyone could or would do was fire the occasional arrow at a sentry who drew to close. There were the occasional visits – Whiting was a well-situated stopping point for someone travelling between Tir Brenin and the border – but they were few.

Her arrival at the main encampment of the Ferann army had been far more subdued than she had expected. No soldiers called out to them and no one smiled or welcomed them as the rode into camp. Those who sae them arrive simply watched, until the recognised the Duke of Serral, or the Foxby banner. When they did, no one even met their eyes.

Lord Sangster was waiting for them, along with another Royal Guardsman Elaine did not recognise. Both bowed as Nierin dismounted but, when they straightened, there was no sign of welcome. Subdued in their greeting, both wore the look of someone bearing news they did not want to share.

Elaine, ignoring the warning glance from Nierin's captain, followed behind the duke, glancing around at the silent soldiers who watched their arrival. A shiver ran down Elaine's spine as she saw no sign of Nathan. Perhaps he's avoiding his father, she thought, but it rang hollow. Something had happened here, something that was related to Nierin.

Nierin, for all his bullheadedness, was intelligent enough to recognise the signs. He took one look at Tom's face and said, "What happened?"

"There was an ambush," Tom said. His tone was neutral, but his words quivered with restrained emotion. "The Crown Princess...," unable to meet the duke's gaze, his eyes dropped to study the ground, "we lost her."

Nierin's fists and jaw clenched briefly, belying his apparent calm. "The King?"

"We've sent a bird and a messenger," the woman said softly.

"Why haven't you tried scrying?"

Tom lifted his head. "We did. But none of the Manipulators with that ability have been able to do it."

"Nathan?"

Tom and the woman glanced at each other. When Tom did not speak immediately, the woman said, "He was injured in the attack. He hasn't yet regained consciousness."

Nierin gazed levelly at them. Jaw and hands already clenched from news about the princess, there were no further signs of distress.

Unable to take the stretching silence, Elaine stepped forward. "Where is he?"

"Who are you?" the woman asked.

"Elaine! What are you doing here?" Tom said, surprise fading into relief. He ignored the woman's questions, gesturing at Elaine – and Nierin – to follow him.

Tom led them a short distance into the maze of tents that made up the camp. When Elaine saw the black and gold monstrosity sat squarely in their path, she figured that was their destination. It was a surprise then when Tom turned to the side and lifted the entrance flap to one of the surrounding tents. A surprise, but perhaps not so surprising, she thought. Nathan never did like any fanfare.

Her amusement at the thought disappeared when she saw the man. His skin was as pale as the bandages that covered most of his body, and a mixture of blood and sweat were seeping through the white cloth.

Ignoring the others, she dropped to her knees. One hand went to his forehead, testing his temperature as any healer would. The other went to settle squarely on his chest. Blue light swirled as she sent tendrils of magic in to inspect the damage. The information they sent back sent the blood from her face.