Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [100]
“—not far,” Saryon was saying. “There at the bend. Be careful. The path along the riverbank is muddy and very slippery.”
There was a slight drop-off from the path in the woods to the path along the riverbank, caused by the churning of the water in a small pool below us, which had eroded the bank. Saryon was about to make a clumsy descent. I interceded, offering to go first and stand ready to assist those who came after.
Scylla remained on the highest part of the path, her hand on her sword hilt, keeping watch all around us. I gathered up the skirts of my robes and half jumped, half slid down to the river trail. Once I had regained my feet, I turned and reached out my arms to Eliza. She did not hesitate, but made the jump with skill. She did not really need my help, but she ended up in my arms anyway.
For a brief moment we held fast to each other. She looked up into my eyes and I gazed down into hers. She loved me! I knew then that she loved me, as I loved her. My joy was bright as the sunshine on the water, but the next moment the joy flowed into a shallow, stagnant pool, dark and dismal.
Our love could never come to anything. She was Queen of Merilon and I was her house catalyst, a mute catalyst at that. She had duties and responsibilities to her people, duties in which I could assist her, in my humble calling, but only in my humble calling. She was betrothed. I knew her future husband well; he was the son of Emperor Garald and was much younger than Eliza. They were waiting for the boy to come of age. The marriage would strengthen the Empire, forever bonding the kingdoms of Merilon and Sharakan.
Provided, of course, that the Hch’nyv did not kill us all first.
Eliza slipped out of my grasp. “You help Father Saryon now, Reuven,” she said softly, and walking a slight distance from me, she turned away from me and stared out across the glistening water. I watched her a moment, saw her hand reach up to her eyes, but the movement was swift and was not repeated.
She had accepted her duty and was resigned to it. Could I do less, with her brave example before me?
I held out my hand to Father Saryon, and helped him safely to the bank below.
“It wasn’t this difficult twenty years ago,” he said. “At least not that I remember. I managed by myself without any trouble at all. I was much younger then, of course.” He came level with me and looked at me intently. “Are you all right, Reuven?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” I signed.
He looked from me to Eliza, who remained standing with her back to us all, and his expression grew sad and sorrowful. I saw that he knew, that he must have known for some time.
“I am sorry, my son,” he said. “I wish—”
But I was never to know what he wished, for he was unable to express it. Shaking his head, he went to Eliza and rested his hand gently upon her arm.
Scylla jumped and landed beside me, with a rattle of armor and a thud that shook the ground. She brushed off brusquely my attempt at assistance.
“Where is the Enforcer?” she asked impatiently, and turned back to peer up the bank.
Mosiah stood above us, a dark and ominous figure in his black robes, which fluttered in the wind. The raven hopped on the ground at his side.
“Father Saryon,” he called. “Where are you bound?”
Saryon gazed up at him. “There is a cave in the bend of the river—”
“No, Father,” said Mosiah, and his voice was deep and stern. “You must find some other path. We dare not go near that cave. The raven has warned me. That cave is the dwelling of a Dragon of the Night.”
Scylla looked alarmed. Eliza paled and her eyes widened. Father Saryon was not the least bit disconcerted by this news. He nodded and smiled. “Yes, I know.”
“You know!” Mosiah leapt from the bank. His black robes billowed around him. He drifted like a sooty wisp of cottonwood to the bank and landed in front of Saryon. The raven, taking wing, flapped and fluttered at his shoulder. “You know and you will go anyway?”
“Do you realize, Father,” Scylla added, “the risk we run? An army of warlocks could not win a battle against a Dragon of the Night, should it