Chapter 6
A Difficult Departure
Robbie awoke to Navarre’s firm hand shaking his shoulder. ‘Get up! We must get going.’
The Healer moved to the rear of the cave, carrying his cooking pot in his hand. He gave Filligreen a light shake as he passed where she was sleeping and then packed the pot away inside the bag.
Robbie yawned and stared through the curtain of falling water at the dazzling gold spreading across the dawn sky. Stretching stiff limbs, he struggled to his feet and wandered to the waterfall. He splashed his face with the cold water and turned to look at Filligreen as she tied up her long, flaxen hair.
He returned the smile she gave him when Navarre thrust some berries into his hand. ‘Here, eat these. You can eat properly once you are safely inside the Beginning.’
His tone held an edge of hardness. Perhaps it was disapproval at the way he’d smiled at Filligreen. Robbie ignored him.
After his hasty meal, they emerged from the cave and clambered down the rocks. Navarre led the way through the wood while Tassie bounded ahead, a streak of iridescence in the dim light. Robbie and Filligreen kept close to the Healer as they marched, their eyes scanning the shadows for sudden movements.
A white mist rose around them that crept low to the earth with cold, probing fingers. It left Robbie’s clothes damp and his face wet. The floor of the wood was boggy, too, from all the rain during the night. Navarre searched for drier patches of earth to walk on as they marched. The silence of the wood was profound, as though everything that had ever lived in it had somehow died. Where were all the Elves—and the shrieks?
Beside him, Filligreen reached out and took his hand in hers. ‘Will you ever come back?’
His heart ached at the plea in her whisper. His destiny had already been mapped out for him and he couldn’t alter it. ‘I can’t promise anything, Filligreen.’
Eyes moistening, she nodded. ‘It is hard to know what to do when everything seems hopeless.’
His answer came in a surprising, steady voice. ‘Take courage and put your faith in the Morning Star. Be strong...for Dewleaf and your people. Morgran’s story will end one day.’
With a tremulous smile, she squeezed his hand and stared ahead. She understood. They needed no more words. They were two companions on a dark, uncertain journey.
All too soon, the enormous tree known to the Elves as the Beginning came into view and they hurried towards it. Trapdoors opened for their entry and, in a blur, Robbie found himself underground once more. Several Elves greeted and showed them down a long, winding stairway carved into rounded walls. Roots poking through the ceiling dangled around their heads. Light beads spiralled through crevices and lit their way. Numb, Robbie walked beside Filligreen, no longer holding her hand. He sensed their time together had ended and he didn’t want to incur an Elven offence from Dewleaf or Gendelthane.
At the bottom of the steps sat a familiar figure. Robbie started when he saw him. The next moment, he took off down the stairs, leaping two and three steps at a time.
‘Dougray! You made it!’
The figure leaped to his feet and spun around in surprise. ‘Robbie! Where in the blazes have you been?’
He bounded up the steps to meet him and then Robbie was hugging him. ‘In the forest. Navarre found us and we spent the night in his cave. Filligreen’s here, too. We’re all safe! Where’s Belle? And Alysam?’
Dougray gave him a stern look. ‘We’re all accounted for.’ He glanced at the Elf girl and lowered his voice. ‘What in Wyfren’s name is she doing with you?’
Robbie tensed. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘Come and have something to eat and tell me what happened. It’s been a difficult time for everyone down here.’
He and Filligreen followed Dougray into an enormous chamber filled with Elves. Near a stream of water, Belle sat alone. They hastened towards her.
‘Belle!’
At the sound of Robbie’s voice, she leaped to her feet and in moments, her strong arms were wrapped about him in a tight embrace. ‘I am so happy you are all right. The shrieks have been a nightmare. Filligreen, Dewleaf is so worried about you. Here he comes now!’
In several strides of his long legs, Dewleaf was there, hugging his sister. Filligreen cried on his shoulder. Food and wine were brought and they took their fill as they sat beside the stream. Tassie lounged next to Robbie, her paw draped across his left boot. A contented purr deep in her throat throbbed through his whole leg. He didn’t mind as he recounted the horrors that had driven him and Filligreen through the wood. He spoke of how Navarre rescued them and of their time in his cave under the waterfall. Of his imaginings under the tree’s roots he spoke not a word.
Thoughtful, the Healer also listened without interrupting. Neither mentioned the conversation they had had in the cave. Filligreen sat in silence next to her brother. The only consolation Robbie had was a quick, furtive look in his direction.
Alysam strode towards them. Robbie stood up and grasped the Alpin’s arm. ‘How are you, Alysam, here under the earth?’
‘I cannot complain. Not so the king’s son.’
Robbie looked at him in surprise. ‘What? Trisian’s here? I must see him!’
Alysam grabbed his arm and shook his head. ‘The king is with him.’
The joy in Robbie’s heart turned to dread as he looked into his stern face. ‘What happened?’
‘They found him with Brefale.’
‘The Spider Elf?’
‘She saved his life when shrieks attacked him.’
‘But he’s wounded? How?’ Robbie didn’t understand.
‘They were on their way here when Morgran’s soldiers attacked them. An arrow wounded him in the shoulder. Brefale destroyed the soldiers but their evil work she could not stop. They have breached the wood and the colours they wear are difficult to see.’
Dougray cursed and looked at Robbie. ‘Morgran’s spells of invisibility hide them.’
Trisian still in his mind, Robbie gnawed his bottom lip. ‘Surely Falman can make Trisian well again.’
Alysam said nothing. Belle placed her hand on Robbie’s shoulder. ‘The arrow was poisoned. Morgran’s soldiers often poison their weapons.’
Alysam turned and looked in the direction of a crowd of stretchers at the rear of the chamber. ‘He has been hovering between life and death ever since they brought him here.’
Robbie blinked. He hadn’t noticed the rows of stretchers with all the wounded on them until then. Gendelthane was sitting alongside one of them.
Alysam faced Robbie again. ‘I must return and offer what aid I can. Again, it is good to see you, Robbie.’
He lumbered back to the sick, leaving Robbie staring after him. Gaylan hastened over. He looked weary and his chainmail was splattered with blood.
Navarre greeted him. ‘May his truth and light guide your feet, Gaylan. How have you fared through all this?’
A fierce light shone in Gaylan’s eyes. ‘As well as can be expected.’ He looked at each of them in turn. ‘When you have rested, Gendelthane advises you leave Wyrm Wood...for your own safety. Wyrmgaldere is to show you the northern tunnel that takes you to the edge of the wood. There stands the guardian you seek. It is only a few days’ journey from there to the Silver Mountains.’
Robbie glanced at his brother. ‘Is that where we’re going?’
Navarre responded. ‘There is a staging post there called Twendlemark. You must buy horses at the livery for the next stage of your journey. The road to Hell’s Spit is too far by foot. I suggest we leave as soon as possible.’
Robbie frowned. ‘What about Trisian...and the shrieks?’
Gaylan looked at him with mingled anger and sadness. ‘The shrieks have done their evil work; Morgran will now send some new devilry among us. And his soldiers have also invaded the wood. There is nothing more we can do here but flee to the plains.’
Navarre’s eyes burned. ‘One thing I have learned from the Elves of Wyrm Wood, Gaylan
, is that they are courageous and strong. And they have the Morning Star to guide and protect them, which is far more than Morgran has.’
Gaylan gave him a doubtful look. ‘This time it may not be enough.’
‘It is always enough, Gaylan. Morgran has not won this war yet. And the Sharn still have the advantage here in Wyrm Wood. Do not underestimate your skills. Now, my young friends will need some supplies for their journey.’
One corner of Gaylan’s mouth turned up in a tentative smile. ‘I will go and see what I can do.’
The Elf hurried away. Navarre sat beside Dougray. ‘It is now up to you and Robbie to complete the quest that is set before you. When Gaylan returns, we shall head off to see this guardian. The Elves do not go near her. They fear what she has become. She is called a sylph.’
Confused, Dougray frowned. ‘A sylph!’
‘She is made of air, bound between heaven and earth by a black chain set by Morgran. That is her curse for using his magic, to remain so forever, never to be set free. A sad existence.’
In the silence his words evoked, Robbie glanced at Filligreen, at the pain mirrored in her eyes as she returned the look. They had mere minutes left and then...
He stood up. ‘Filligreen, I need to talk to you.’
She blinked in surprise and stood up. Together they walked towards the steps and sat down out of earshot. Not caring who saw them, he clasped her hand in his and stared into her moist eyes. ‘Filligreen, there’s something the Morning Star has asked me to do and I had to tell you before we left. I won’t be coming back—I can’t.’
Tears streamed down her cheeks at his words. Robbie took a deep breath to steady his own emotions. They sat in silence for several long minutes. He’d steal a kiss in farewell if he could, but he was conscious she might suffer as a result if they were seen. Then Dougray called to him. Gaylan had returned and it was time to leave.
Filligreen wrapped her arms about his neck and whispered, ‘You brought hope to my people...and to me, Robbie.’
She kissed his cheek, then rose to her feet and ran into the opposite tunnel. Stunned, Robbie wiped the tears from his eyes with his hands as he stared after her. His emotions churned in turmoil as he fought off the cold, grey winter of another departure.
Chapter 7
Disturbing Words
Bags loaded with provisions, Dougray, Robbie and Belle slipped away unnoticed with Navarre and Tassie as their guides. Only their friends, Alysam, Dewleaf and Gaylan, were there to see them off. Alysam alone held reservations of their upcoming journey to Hell’s Spit.
He looked at Dougray with earnest eyes. ‘Spend as little time as possible in the open. Remember, Morgran’s soldiers are everywhere. They have eyes in the backs of their heads and cloaks of invisibility on their backs.’
Gaylan nodded. ‘Aye. Unseen scouts have reported that the grasslands east of here are crawling with them.’
Alysam continued, ‘When you arrive at Hell’s Spit, trust no one. The place is too dangerous even for Morgran’s soldiers. Keep a sharp eye when you are there and do not attract attention to yourselves.’
They clasped hands and headed through the northern tunnel. It was a dry, well-lit place and they made good progress. Dougray’s strength had returned and his aching muscles were well rested. Idleness had made him restless and he was determined to reach the guardian and then Twendlemark, a market town within a ring of mountains. Gaylan had given him a small pouch of coins from Gendelthane’s stores to buy horses, a generous addition to the food and blankets he’d already provided.
He glanced across at Robbie. Melancholy haunted his brother’s eyes again and unseen wounds were etched across his face.
Dougray came alongside. ‘You all right?’
Robbie looked up. ‘Yeah.’
‘I know you don’t like being underground, but at least we’re safe under here. Filligreen is safe too, and with her people.’
His brother stared at him with a blank look. Dougray placed his hand on his shoulder. ‘Everything will be all right, Robbie. Trust me.’
‘I do. You’re Rafem.’
He winced. For a time, they walked together in silence. The walls closed in around them and the only sound was their breathing and the scraping of their boots across the woody floor as they marched. They had walked no more than an hour when a bright light flashed across Dougray’s eyes. He stifled a gasp and rubbed them. Robbie, lost in private thoughts, didn’t notice.
Just weary.
An unexpected image flashed before him. It was of a ship with black, billowing sails plunging through storm-tossed waves. A night journey by sea? A moment’s glimpse was all he had before the image blinked out. He knew he hadn’t hallucinated. Was he somehow seeing what would happen at Hell’s Spit? What sort of ship had black sails?
Robbie glanced back. ‘You all right?’
‘Yeah. Just tired of all this running and hiding all the time.’
‘Me too.’
Belle had stopped up ahead and was checking her left boot. Dougray had acted like a goat back at the Retreat and she hadn’t spoken to him since. He had to apologise. After all, he cared about her more than he liked to admit. As he came alongside, she didn’t look up or acknowledge his presence. He indicated to Robbie to keep walking.
Dougray cleared his throat. Ignoring him, the Elf girl straightened and strode after his brother. ‘Belle, I’m sorry for how I spoke to you at the Retreat. Belle!’ She halted and turned to face him, her eyes huge and sad. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. Will you—’
‘Yes, I forgive you Dougray.’ A huge smile lit up her face. Next moment, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
‘I also am sorry.’
His face flooded with heat. Not wanting to lock eyes with her, he started forward. Something had occurred between them. Perhaps she had sensed it, too. That lingering pain inside didn’t hurt so keenly anymore. He gave her a furtive glance out of the corner of his eye.
Belle was her old self again. She began to talk about her home in the Green Wood, something she had never done before. The cadence of her voice washed over him like a gentle wave. She was like the dark, wild woods her tales evoked. He became lost in the sound of her voice, a melodious song, sweet and soothing like balm to his soul.
Navarre dropped his bag in a wide, curving hollow. The area appeared set aside for camping pilgrims and leather pillows were piled in a corner. Light beads glittered above their heads.
‘We shall camp here for the night.’
Dougray looked at Navarre as he removed food from his bag and passed it around. ‘What can you tell us about this sylph?’
Navarre sat cross-legged on one of the pillows. ‘Hers is a sad tale. The sylph was once the Queen of the Silver Mountains. That book you carry tells you about her kingdom. I wrote about her greed for magic and lust for power. Some monarchs lusted after gold and jewels; she lusted after Morgran’s magic that in the end corrupted her. One of his Magic Men turned her into a sylph, bound to one place until her curse is broken.’
Belle nodded to the Healer. ‘I have heard of sylphs. My grandfather spoke of them. Monarchs of the air, he called them.’
‘But do not confuse sylphs with the wind beings,’ Navarre interrupted. ‘They are two different species.’
Navarre continued. ‘The Silver Mountains were once beautiful. Snow settled on their peaks all year around and forests of oak and elm covered their slopes. The queen’s people did indeed mine for silver, rare silver that shone white in the moonlight. And it was hard, too, like dragons’ scales.
‘But the Queen was not happy with her wealth. She invited strange, courtly folk from far away to her kingdom and they corrupted her thoughts. Soon she desired what she could not have: immortality.’
Belle grunted in disgust. ‘Then she was a fool.’
Navarre shook his head. ‘Whether a fool or merely deceived, I know not and cannot judge. But she was on a deadly path the moment the Magic Men and Women courted her favour. When Morgran inv
aded the Dwarf mines in the north, the Dwarves sent for aid from all the Kingdoms, relying on an ancient oath in which all long ago had sworn to give aid. But many of the kingdoms were by then under the influence of Morgran and too weak to help even themselves. They had all partaken of his magic arts and failed to honour their oaths made to the Dwarves.’
Belle gasped. ‘Then they are oath breakers and cursed!’
Navarre nodded. ‘Aye, they were cursed and Morgran invaded with ease.’
‘Except for one kingdom.’
They turned and looked at Robbie. Navarre nodded. ‘Except the Kingdom of the true King.’
‘But no one knows where he and his people are.’
‘And that is a good thing.’ Navarre smiled at Robbie. ‘Their hidden-ness frustrates Morgran no end.’ He yawned. ‘Now, we must take some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day, for all of us.’
It was some time before Dougray could settle. Stories of sylphs and curses made him toss and turn. He tried to imagine what sort of creature she looked like if she resembled the air. How would they communicate with it? He stared at the woody ceiling that curved over his head. Rootlets poking in from outside gave it a hairy appearance. It was odd not being able to see the sky or feel the cool breeze on his face. At least he wasn’t frightened. Tassie’s deep, thrumming purr beside him was the last thing he remembered.
Navarre shook his shoulder and his eyes flickered open. He scowled. ‘What?’
‘Time to go.’
Stiff and sore, he ran his hands through his long hair. ‘Not morning already?’
‘You have all slept seven hours,’ Navarre told him.
He handed Dougray a chunk of bread and yellow cheese, which he followed with cold way tea, a pleasant, Elfish brew mixed with cinnamon. After the meal, they headed off, down through tight turns and large, silent chambers that echoed of empty spaces. They spoke little that day and when they did, tempers flared.
Shadow Helm of Glory Page 5