On the other hand, it might not have been safe to leave them anywhere.
The boats were wood, each carved from a single tree trunk, and from the size of the boats, the original trees must have been quite large. The rest of the “outlaws” were just as scruffy as Collen, but although their clothing was shabby, it, and they, were immaculately clean.
Shana and Kalamadea waited with no signs of impatience while the traders beached their canoes on the riverbank and took great pains to conceal them, using branches and netting. They worked in silence for the most part—probably out of habit. Shana had noticed that voices tended to carry across the water disconcertingly well, and these were people who clearly were used to concealing themselves and their movements as a matter of course.
When they were finished, they dusted their hands off and stood up, and Kalamadea indicated that they should follow him, which they did without a backward glance.
But they know that we had to flee the elves, so they know that we’re in danger, too, if we’re discovered. I would think, though, that they might worry about us getting rid of them—no, maybe not. I doubt if they have anything we want at the moment, so what would be the point of us attacking them?
Or so Shana reasoned. There would be no point in the outlaws attacking the wizards—they were patently outnumbered, and they probably knew it.
Collen dropped back to walk beside her. “It’s I’m hopin’ we can do a bit uv’ trade, ye an’ we, lak I said,” he told her, quietly. “We trade furs an’ oddities t’ th’ collared; I’m hopin’ ye mot hev’ summut a bit better nor furs?”
Shana thought about that. “We might,” she said cautiously. “And—there is something we have that might be useful just for you and your people—we’ve got a kind of arrow-tip that’s as fatal to elves as elf-shot is to you and me.”
Collen’s eyes widened at that, the first time he had shown any kind of surprise. “No lie?”
“No lie,” she confirmed. “One scratch, and they’re down; a good hit, and they are dead. We both know, I think, that it takes a lot to kill an elven lord.”
She was not going to tell him where the wizards got their arrow-tips—which were actually formed from the tips of dragon-claws. If he asked about the dragons, well, she would let Kalamadea decide what he should hear or see. But there was no harm in trading him some of their special weaponry. It had no particular efficacy against halfbloods, whose constitution and lifespan were nearer the human than the elven, anyway. And if he ever needed such a weapon, it would be criminal not to have put in his hands.
And one more dead elven lord is all to the good. That was how Shana felt about it. anyway. She’d only seen one of the elves, ever, that had been worth anything at all—and it was all too apparent from everything she had learned, then and since, that Valyn had been an anomaly among his kind, an elven lord with a conscience and a heart.
“I be damn glad t’ hev that, lady,” Collen breathed, fervently. “An’ that be a fact.”
She nodded, pleased. At that point, they reached the mouth of the cavern-complex; the entrance was quite impressive, being about three stories tall, opening into the side of the hill and surrounded by heavy woods. Neither the wizards nor the dragons had done anything to alter the entrance, and from here, there was no sign of the mage-lights or the smooth path deep within. Kalamadea conjured a hand-light, and continued to lead the way; Shana called up a light of her own and brought up the tail.
The ground was a bit uneven here, and the traders stumbled now and again. Their footsteps echoed in the vast darkness as they descended, and a couple of the children whispered nervously to their parents as they paced nervously into the cool and gloom. Shana smiled to herself: they were in for a surprise.
The pathway down made an abrupt curve, doubling back on itself, and that was where the mage-lights began, out of sight of the entrance.
The dragons had placed their lights with care, illuminating not only the pathway, but the most impressive of the cave formations as well. For the first time, Shana heard the voice of someone other than Collen in this group, as first the children, then the adults, began to talk quietly to one another, pointing out this or that formation in tones of awe and wonder.
But the best was yet to come, as the cave narrowed, and finally widened out again into the Great Hall. Mage-lights were everywhere, in globes along the walls, and even in the cluster at the top of the ceiling. The humans blinked as they emerged into the spacious Hall, and stared about with as much shock as surprise.
Denelor had been as good as his word; he had arranged for tables and benches, lights and plenty of food—and a good number of the wizards to share the meal, including Parth Agon. The eyes of the children and adults alike went wide at the sight of all the people, but Collen seemed to take it all in stride. He left Shana and went to the head of the group, made a nice little speech of gratitude to Denelor, and then ushered all of his people to the seats awaiting them. Very clearly, no matter what he had claimed earlier, he was not “just” the scout for the traders, he was their real leader.
Well, that tallied with the glimpse she’d had into his memory.
With customary tact, Denelor had seen to it that not only was Parth Agon seated with himself, Shana, and Kalamadea at the strangers’ table, but so were several of the human children Shana had rescued and brought to the old Citadel. The sight of other full humans seemed to reassure Collen’s folk; they relaxed, and so did Collen.
They were hungry, but not starving; they ate well, but did not bolt the food nor stuff themselves—except at the sweet course, when their greed was frankly shared by the wizards as well. The trader children and the former slaves began eyeing each other halfway through the meal, shyly, and there were signs of tentative overtures on the part of the strangers’ children as well as Shana’s brood. She didn’t get much of a chance to watch the children, however, for as soon as Collen’s appetite was satisfied, he cleared his throat in a significant manner, and got the attention of all of the Citadel adults at his table.
“I tol’ these three, down by river, we be outlaws, traders,” he began, taking it on himself to repeat what the others might not yet have heard. Clearly, he was not assuming that they all had the same ability as Shana to speak mind to mind. “Some on us be freeborn, some on us be ‘scaped. We trade, lak, wit’ collared that be workin’ fer th’ cat-eyed.”
Parth Agon, the only one at this table other than the children for whom this really was new information, considered it and nodded. “So long as you keep them from following you—which, presumably, is not difficult if you travel by water—you should be safe enough. So—I take it that you trade whatever odd things happen to come your way, and they in turn take the goods back to their overlords?”
“Summat lak that,” Collen agreed. “We got an unner-standin’, lak. We—we’re willin’ t’ chance risks they ain’t. We bring in thin’s th’ cat-eyed don’ see much. Furs, mostly, but now an’ agin’ it’s summat odd. They tell th’ cat-eyed ’twas they went an’ fetched the things, an’ they keep quiet ’bout us.
We get what we can’ make, can’ grow, lak. Now, we ain’t ‘t only freeborn out here—
“You’re not?” Parth Agon’s eyebrows rose, though it was obvious to Shana. How could you be a trader with no one to trade things to?
Collen shrugged. “Tothers, ’tis th’ odd clan, family, all farm folk, lak; couple herders, couple hunters, trappers, an’ we trade wi’ ’em all. They bin here since there was dirt. Got nothin’ th’ cat-eyed want t’ go huntin’ after, not no kinda threat, wouldn’ know one end uv a spear from ‘tother, so they ain’t gonna fight. Them cat-eyed pointy-ears, they got to figger us traders is bad, since we got runaways ‘mongst us, so we don’ let ’em know we’s here. But them—nay, they ain’t no threat, an’ cat-eyes don’ care if they be out here. So figger we make same deal wi’ ye as we got wi’ them. An’ ye can find summat t’trade, we take it downriver, an” get what ye canna make nor grow. Tell us what ye need. We get some, ye get some.”
“Fairly standard offer, fairly made,” Parth Agon said at last. “Denelor?”