A few days passed before Bertronius heard anything about the information that he provided to Sir Atelon and the Black Diamonds. He was a bit nervous that nothing would come of it and that he really hadn't actually discovered anything of use. Finally, on the third morning after his meeting with Scrudton, he heard a knock on the door of their rooms. Bertronius opened it and immediately found a note being thrust into his hand by a surly-looking message boy, who departed without so much as a word.
It was a hastily written note from Sir Atelon. After reading its few, brief lines, Bertronius called out to his comrades, "McNab, Lem, Nel! We've got to get down to headquarters! There's an emergency meeting!" Lem and Nelhoepher groaned in response, but began to pull clothes onto their sleepy forms all the same. McNab emerged from his own room, his face dark with what Bertronius read as concern and worry.
Bertronius, McNab, Nelhoepher and Lem found the spies' meeting room already full and alive with speculation about the reasons for the sudden meeting when they arrived at headquarters. Once the last straggling spies found seats, Sir Atelon called for silence and began to speak. Bertronius thought that Scrudton looked older than usual, less animated: even his moustache seemed droopy today.
"Comrades, I fear that the reason I have called you here today is a sad one. Two days ago, on the strength of intelligence collected by Worthis and Pearson, a group of Black Diamonds engaged a small party of rebel soldiers in the hills east of Susselfen. Although we ought to have had the advantage in this sortie – both in terms of numbers and the element of surprise – six out of the thirteen Black Diamonds, including their commander Pembleton were slain." Once the whispers and gasps had subsided, Scrudton continued, his eyes alternately downcast and looking skyward, as if he was unable to look his colleagues in the face.
Scrudton provided the remaining details that the few, traumatized survivors were able to recollect – a centaur's charge; unparalleled ferocity; a human boy, perhaps kidnapped for untoward purposes; images of unspeakable horror that had made some of the men mad with fear; and to cap it all, the rebels lost only the centaur.
*****
Rethnaki and his band of rebels camped just on the other side of the gate. Rethnaki tried to sleep, but tossed and turned fitfully, unable to relax. He sat there, in the dark tent he shared with Elcrona and Helkint for the night, with a panic rising in his chest and no clear understanding of where it was coming from. The other two elves were huddled under blankets, sleeping heavily, with peaceful expression on their childlike faces. Rethnaki found himself torn between feeling jealous of their ability to rest and feeling overwhelmingly protective of them in their vulnerable state.
He left the tent and found a comfortable enough rock to perch himself on near their makeshift camp. He wrapped his blanket more tightly around his lean frame and noted that the only sound echoing in the cold night air was the slight chattering of his teeth. Rethnaki allowed his mind to wander, mulling over how profoundly things had changed in the last two days. He had lost three of his dearest companions within hours of each other and he was not sure how to keep himself from falling apart. Every time he tried to think of himself as the rebels’ last remaining leader, he felt as if an icy hand had reached into his chest and grasped his heart – it terrified him, and left him unable to move or breath.
Eventually, the weak light of dawn began to break over the mountains. It was a lonely, eerily beautiful sight, one which was very much in keeping with Rethnaki’s bleak mood. As the light grew stronger, Rethnaki could hear the sounds of the others waking and stretching, but he was too immersed in his thoughts to pay much attention to them. Soon, he realized that someone was walking over to him and he glanced over his shoulder and saw Sellior approaching with a concerned look.
“I brought ye breakfast, Naki,” he said, offering him some warm bread and hot tea. Rethnaki thanked him and took the food, and the smell made him realize suddenly how hungry he had become on his lonely boulder. Sellior settled down next to him, gazing out at the misty peaks. “Ye didn’ sleep again, then?” he asked softly.
“I tried, Selli, but I jus’ couldn’. I jus’ can’ stop t’inkin’ about e’eryt’in,” he replied.
Sellior nodded. “Aye. Jus’ remember tha’ none o’ ‘tis any fault o’ yers.”
Rethnaki focused his attentions on the bread and tea, and could not bring himself to look at Sellior. He did feel that it was his fault – had he done a better job in Susselfen, he could have moved the rebels out quicker and the entire battle could have been avoided. There would be nine rebels camped here instead of five. At ta very least, he thought to himself harshly, I could ha’e kept a better eye on ta boy.
Sellior waited silently, with his characteristic seemingly endless patience. He did not push Rethnaki to say more or offer any more words of advice, but sat next to him staring out at the foggy mountains, as if he knew that his presence alone would help his friend. And, Rethnaki had to admit, it did. “We should head out soon,” Rethnaki said quietly as he stood and hopped off the boulder.
Sellior nodded. “We’re ready ta go, all o’ us packed as soon as we woke. An’ Ellie packed yer t’ings fer ye, I t’ink.” Sellior was right, though. Elcrona and Moshel sat with their packs ready, talking quietly between themselves, and Helkint stood nearby wearing a dark, distracted expression. When they noticed Sellior and Rethnaki, the three elves shouldered their packs and looked at their new leader expectantly.
“Moshel, ye feelin’ alrigh’?” Rethnaki asked, noticing how the tinker kept a hand firmly pressed to his ribs. He could not help but feel guilty that Moshel, essentially a bystander and by no means a soldier, had sustained such a wound, and worried that using him as their guide only made his injury more painful and severe.
He winced and chewed his lip for a moment. “To tell the truth, Rethnaki, the pain is much worse. I will have to go very slowly, especially on the trail down. But we’re in no danger of being followed here, so I see no reason for you and the others not to walk ahead. I can always call out if you’re going too fast or the wrong way.”
Rethnaki nodded, and told Moshel to speak up when he needed to stop for any reason. Rethnaki waited to leave until he was sure that Sellior had a firm hold of the tinker elf, and then struck out with Elcrona on his left and Helkint on his right in the direction Moshel had told them to go.
"So what's this 'bout then, Atelon?" McNab asked.
"Well, Caspio, I have something that might lift your spirits after this morning's sobering news! It seems that there is need of a spy at the Imperial Court itself, of all places, and, knowing your long-standing desire to be stationed in Neerhemhind and young Bertronius', ah, ahem, station, I offered your services to my superiors," Scrudton replied, rubbing his hands together happily.
"Does that mean we're a goin' to Neerhemhind too, then? A pity, I was just gettin' to likin' this town, I was," Lem interjected.
"No, Lemonius, you and Nelhoepher will remain here. I'm placing you under the purview of Pearson," the old spy responded gently, nodding towards the other spy.
Bertronius, torn from his reflections on the death that his intelligence had wrought, looked at what were now his two closest friends, and felt a terrible sadness at the thought of having to leave them. He could see that they were struggling with the news as well, Lem looked particularly worried. "Don't worry, I'll write to you two all the time," he said to comfort him.
"Are ye sure they’ll be able to read yer precious missives, then?" Pearson asked with a sneer, but he was quickly chastened into silence by dark looks from Scrudton and McNab.
"Why now though?" McNab asked, returning to the subject of Neerhemhind.
"I haven't been fully briefed on the details, but there is apparently deep suspicions that someone at court has been feeding information to the rebels."
McNab nodded, and asked, "When do we leave?"
"Immediately. There's a post carriage that leaves tonight, and should have you in the capital in a matter of days," Scrudton replied.
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