Jila poked the fire. "Our brothers go south for the hunt sometimes. They say the snow stops. I have not seen it. Whole places with no snow and many growing things coming out of the ground. They bring me the leaves and sometimes I make medicines from them. Someday I will go and see it."

The elf nodded and smiled softly. "That is good, Jila. There is much to see and to do and to be in the world."

The two women were interrupted by a blast of cold air from the doorway. Luth spoke brusquely.

"They’ll see ye now."

-------------------------

The cave was very dark and Alliliel’s eyes had to adjust. It was strangely warm inside, much more so than she thought these Northmen would like. The cave snaked up into more darkness and there was no sound.

Luth had taken her to the entrance and would not go any further, claiming that it was bad luck to see the shamans unless called for.

Alliliel made her way up the cave. It began to widen and level out. Up ahead, the elf could barely hear the sounds of water dripping. Light spilled out from behind a curtain, blocking the way. The elf opened the curtain and walked into a well-lit rounded room. The floor had been worked and made level. Some rock formations from the walls had been shaped into tables and shelves which held numerous containers with strange bubbling liquids and odd smokes wafting up from them.

Facing the curtain there was three Northmen. The one on the left had very red hair in two long braids coming out from his helmet. He had many scars on his ruddy face and he stared at the elf and did not blink. The man in the center looked out cautiously from his deep-recessed eyes. They were very dark and cold, and were nothing like those of elves. The man on the right was much taller than the other two, and sat to the side, working something with his hands and paid no heed to Alliliel whatsoever.

The men sat behind a wooden table and did not stir. Alliliel had come many miles through much danger to find these men and in all that time, she had given no thought whatsoever to what she should say. She opened her mouth to say a greeting when the one in the middle spoke. Surprisingly, he spoke in Elder Elvish with a bit of an eastern accent.

"You have come far to speak to us. So speak!"

"In this land, far from my home, last of all things did I expect to meet a scholar of my ancient tongue. You honor me, sir." The elf bowed her head deeply.

She continued. "Yes, I have come far to speak with you. I have been in the service of the Great Mother of All, Tunare for more years than I can count. I have learned much magic and have been granted many powers by Her grace. I have seen much and done much. In all that time, there are magics and powers that are foreign to me and to all the elven people. I have tried to heal some hurts, but my powers fail me. I had much hope, now there is one hope left."

"I know of one who is afflicted with fell drink. It has cursed him and now he hides from the light. I cannot cure this, for I have tried. Even in the easternmost lands of Tunaria, which to you is Antonica, it is known that the most powerful of potions and beneficial of tonics are made by the Shaman of the North. I have come to ask for what help and succor you might have for a stranger who wishes to heal the hurts of the world. I have no other hope in this."

The tall man on the side put down his work and turned to face the elf.

"There be many hurts in th’ world that are beyond curing, elf. We have many sick and wounded here, our brothers and sisters need all our powers and magics. We have none to spare for foreigners."

Alliliel looked at the floor. "Then I have no hope left."

The one on the left spoke. "Ye were always hasty, Dil. I see one here," pointing at Alliliel, "Who has some powers of her own that we can use in our own troubles."

The man in the center looked at Alliliel. "What powers have ye, lass? If we do anything, ye will owe us a debt, and ye can take it to thy grave that the Shaman of the North do not forget debts. We will collect if we help ye."

Alliliel shook her head. "I have no money. I have no riches or castles or armies. I am a shieldmaiden of Tunare, and I raise up the weak to strength and I stand for those who have no helper. My powers are the crafts of healing the hurt and striking down the wicked, most of all the undead. You can place a debt on me, but I would gladly give of myself freely, for it is the calling of my heart to do it."

"I have come all this way not for myself but to heal one who is beyond my help, and if I can serve you in some righteous cause to earn your help, I will stand to it."

The one on the left smiled a toothy grin. "See Dil, I knew of these ones, these elf clerics. And they have powers of healing better than we have ever known. Our brothers can use one such as this in the troubles. Luck smiles on us."

Dil grunted in assent and went back to his craft.

The one in the center stood up and came around the bench. Standing over the elf he took her hand and in one stroke he cut her hand with a blade, and then his own.

"Aye lass. Your blood is mixed with ours now. This is our way. Tis’ an oath. And if ye live through the trials ahead, ye may get what help we can give. No more will me or any of my brothers of the north speak of this. Go and make what peace ye can with whatever gods ye hold dear. Tomorrow we ride to war."