Elfhunter

by C S Marks

  Chapter 23: Return to the Greatwood

  The Company rode north along the Ambros, the horses stretching their legs and taking advantage of the flat going. Réalta and Eros ran side by side with Galador and Rogond astride them, and Réalta, at any rate, was happy to put his tail toward the lands near the Lake- realm. He had not fared so well there; in fact he now bore several wounds inflicted upon him by the herd stallion, a large, imposing fellow named Wodon. Réalta had discovered that Wodon, who had been in possession of the mares of Tal-sithian for quite a number of years, had very little tolerance for strange stallions.

  Wodon had made that plain soon after Eros and Réalta had been left to forage nearby. They had been drawn to investigate the fine group of mares, who seemed friendly enough. The herd leader, a venerable chestnut mare named Elda, had looked them up and down, laying her ears back and lashing her tail, making it plain that she would tolerate no foolishness from either of them. Just then, Wodon had come galloping over the hilltop calling loudly; he had been away seeking water and now found two strangers among his precious mares. Eros backed off at once, but Réalta arched his neck and trumpeted back at Wodon, for he resented the stallion’s attitude. Wodon didn’t even know of their intentions as yet.

  Eros watched his impressive friend engage in brief challenge with Wodon, but Réalta realized quickly that he was outmatched. He had a few chunks of his hide missing when he at last turned his tail and galloped off with Eros, who trotted sensibly behind him.

  Once night had fallen, Eros encouraged Réalta to follow him back to the herd of mares. Wodon was keeping watch, facing south as the wind was in the north today, thus his nose would alert him from one direction and his eyes from the other. Evading Wodon would not be easy, but Eros had a compelling reason for wanting to approach the mares.

  There was a young mare named Iduna in the band, and Eros fancied her. She was coming into prime breeding condition; tonight or tomorrow she would be most fertile, and Eros held a great desire to be alone with her. To accomplish this, he knew that he would have to distract Wodon, and he thought he knew just how to do it. First, he took notice of Iduna’s position in the herd; regrettably she was nearly in the center under the watchful eye of Elda. It would have been so much easier had she been near the perimeter.

  Now for the distraction of Wodon. The stallion already had his nose in the air and was moving restively back and forth on his vantage point, shaking his head. He had caught wind of them, apparently. Good! Eros needed to lure him down to where he might be engaged. Then Eros would exploit the pride and impetuous nature of his hapless companion, Réalta. Eros liked Réalta, but occasionally found him annoying with his superior attitude and flashy appearance. Réalta was both swifter and more graceful than Eros, and often reminded him of it. Réalta was also rather predictable, and he was not nearly so clever as Eros. Now his pride and predictable nature would serve Eros well.

  Eros called once to Iduna, nickering in his most alluring way. The young mare lifted her head, as did many of the others. Réalta trotted up to make certain that he was not left out of anything, though he thought his friend’s behavior somewhat rash considering the proximity of Wodon. Eros then approached the perimeter of the herd, still calling softly to Iduna, who was now making her way toward him. Wodon beheld Eros and Réalta approaching his mares, and threatened them from the hill-top. Intruders! You have no business here! Back off or I shall teach you a hard lesson! Wodon practically flew down the hillside, striding up before Réalta who stood nearest, as Eros had backed away again, dropping his head and trying to appear non-threatening.

  Réalta was taken aback. Where was Eros? No matter, he could handle this situation himself. He would explain to Wodon, but would not bow to him.

  I mean no intrusion, but do not press me or you shall have more of a fight than perhaps you need, Old One. He arched his proud neck and shook his long white forelock at Wodon.

  No intrusion? Only I hold rights to the mares here. You were calling to Iduna. She is ripe for breeding. Do not try to deceive me, young fool!

  Wodon struck hard with one foreleg, arching his massive neck and giving a sort of deep-throated squeal. Réalta didn’t much like being called foolish, and regrettably his anger was about to make him so. He strode forward, challenging Wodon.

  Do not press me, Old One. I am young and strong, the favored mount of a tall, proud Elf. I have seen battle, and am more than capable of defending myself!

  Wodon snorted and tossed his head, dismissing all thoughts of diplomacy in that moment. Without another word, he flew at Réalta, and both stallions were screaming, rearing and plunging, striking at forelegs, biting at throats and ears. The mares turned to watch; they had not seen a strange stallion challenge Wodon in a long time. Most knew better. Réalta was holding his own, but he was tiring before the relentless onslaught of the old stallion, who had far more to lose should the battle go ill.

  Eros had meanwhile returned quietly to the perimeter of the herd of mares and called again to Iduna, who was now quite near. She approached him even as Elda stood distracted by the combative stallions. Eros nuzzled her, chortling and arching his proud neck. What he lacked in sheer beauty he made up in finesse. She nipped him playfully, returning courtship. She had not really cared for Wodon anyway; he was far too serious and demanding. This good-natured one was more to her taste, and she followed him willingly under the moonlight.

  Eros accomplished his purpose after a bit more courtship. Taking a deep breath and shaking his entire body, Eros now turned his attention to the rescue of his proud companion. While only a few minutes had passed, the two stallions were weary and both had taken several wounds.

  Réalta was beginning to worry; perhaps he really was outmatched. And where in the world was Eros? His question was answered as the strong dun bowled into Wodon from behind, knocking him off balance.

  He called to Réalta: Come on! Now is your chance to run for it! Eros kicked Wodon in the chest, receiving a savage bite to the hindquarters, but was otherwise unscathed as he and Réalta fled at last, leaving Wodon calling after them, warning them to never intrude upon his mares again.

  As they ran back to where their companions waited Eros had turned to Réalta, amused. Well, you certainly sorted him out! Your High-elf would be most impressed.

  Réalta, who was in some pain from his wounds, did not reply. He never did ask his friend Eros where he had been during the melee. Had Eros known it, he was nearly as predictable as Réalta. Luckily, unlike Wodon, Réalta did possess a sense of humor, and the friendship between Eros and himself was strong.

  The Company had been riding for two days when Thorndil first sighted distant riders through the glass Arialde had given him. He called the Company to a halt, alerting them to the party of eight heavily armed and provisioned Elves, bearing the banner of the Lake- realm, who now rode up from the south. Their faces were grim as they approached, and their horses had clearly been ridden hard. Amandir rode out to meet them as they hailed him, followed by the Company.

  It seemed that they had been sent by the Lord and Lady upon discovering the sad truth that sixteen of their kinsmen had disappeared from near the Cold-spring. There had been very little clue as to their fate, but enough sign had been left that they were presumed slain or taken by the Dark Powers. The Elves had tracked them as they could, and had eventually come upon some evidence that a rather large and well-armed company of Ulcas had camped nearby. Then the Elves had separated, with these eight being designated to ride out in search of the Company to warn and aid them.

  "The Ulcas, it seems, were on a course that might well intercept your own," said a fair-haired Elf named Oryan. He looked earnestly into the eyes of Amandir. "We have been sent to accompany you on your quest, for our people are tracking these Ulcas even now, and there are nearly thirty accomplished archers, warriors, and trackers among them. They hope to overtake and slay the Ulcas before they can waylay us. I expect they will have little difficulty, as the Ulcas will be unaware that the
y are being pursued."

  Amandir nodded, but he had a feeling of foreboding growing in his breast. He looked over at Gaelen, who stood by, shivering slightly in the late morning breeze, and his eyes narrowed.

  "Say nothing more in front of her!" he whispered to Oryan. Then, he spoke aloud. "It is well you have come, for we shall have need of you. Are you set to ride all the way to the Greatwood with us?"

  Oryan nodded. "We are provisioned for several weeks. The Lady asked us to see you safely there. She has a message for you, Gaelen Taldin. She says to please submit to our company. We promise to fight beside you to the end and we will not interfere in your purpose." Gaelen smiled. Arialde obviously remembered her unfavorable reaction when she learned of Amandir having been granted leave to join them. She inclined her head to Oryan.

  "You are more than welcome. I’m glad of your company, for we shall need your skills and courageous hearts in this task. I pray that you may thank the Lady from me one day."

  Oryan bowed his head in return, though he looked sidelong at Amandir, who was regarding Gaelen with a mistrustful look on his proud face. Oryan was confused; the Lady had said nothing to him about Gaelen’s being untrustworthy. Gaelen had certainly not given the Elves of Tal-sithian any reason to believe otherwise.

  Amandir drew Oryan aside as the Company made ready to resume their course northward. Though he could not exactly explain how he knew it, Amandir told Oryan that the less Gaelen knew of matters of importance to their enemy, the better. In his heart he feared for the Elves who now tracked the "unwary Ulcas," wondering if the same fate awaited them as had befallen the Elves near the Cold-spring.

  Nelwyn was saddened by the news of the disappearance of those merry Elves of Tal-sithian. They had seemed so free of worries on that bright afternoon, and now had almost assuredly met with some ill fate.

  Gaelen was lost in thoughts of Gorgon; she wondered whether he had any association with the company of Ulcas that apparently had set out to intercept her Company. She did not suspect so, as Gorgon had given every indication that he disliked Ulcas and that he worked alone.

  Nelwyn, on the other hand, knew better. She had seen Gorgon in command of a host of fierce Ulcas in the Stone of Léir, and that host would be set against the might of the Elves of the Greatwood. She had not yet shared the nature of what she had seen with anyone, not even Galador. Gaelen, to her surprise, had not asked it of her. Nelwyn did not know what had happened to her cousin, but she suspected that the Stone had been involved, and she now knew that Gaelen wanted nothing whatever to do with even the mention of it. As for Gorgon, Nelwyn hoped that the Stone was wrong, and that this was just a group of ordinary, sun-hating, unwary Ulcas that would give a well-armed group of Elves very little reason to fear. Even as she rode, she prayed it would be so.

  Many leagues away from the Company, Gorgon stowed the mirror away, turned to Kharsh, who stood beside him, and wiped the sweat from his dark brow.

  "We are being pursued by a host of about thirty Elves from Tal- sithian. They do not know that we are aware of them as yet." Gorgon scanned the surrounding countryside. It was full of hiding-places, and he knew it well. "I have a plan in mind that will surprise them most unpleasantly. Listen well, and then get these vermin moving. We do not have much time."

  Kharsh listened to Gorgon’s idea, which, he had to admit, was inspired. He bowed to his commander, and then hurried to carry out his orders. This was going to be most enjoyable. Though Kharsh did not burn with hatred of anything, he did not love the Elves, and he was looking forward to the looks on their astonished faces. Gorgon instructed his army to leave several alive, for he wanted to deal personally with them. Soon the trap was set, and the Ulcas lay in wait, their archers at the ready.

  The Elves appeared as the afternoon waned and evening approached. The Ulcas had been hunkered down for several hours. The sign they had left for the Elves to follow was clear, but the Elves had to make up a lot of ground to catch up with them and were approaching with caution. Gorgon trembled as he first caught sight of them. He had let it be known that any under his command who did not show proper restraint and alerted the Elves to their presence would soon breathe his last, hence the Ulcas remained in complete concealment as their wary yet obliging victims walked into the trap.

  When the last of the Elves had passed the appropriate point, the rearmost archers loosed their bows. This was the signal for the others to do likewise, and before the startled Elves could react they were felled from all directions. At least twelve perished in that first volley. The others had drawn their bows, but alas, the Ulcas were well protected in their rocky hiding places. Many more fine archers fell quickly, and their blood flowed red upon the ground as the Ulcas drew their blades and engaged those who remained. The Elves were now vastly outnumbered and were rapidly overcome. Six were left alive and brought before Gorgon, who was delighted to view their pained, hopeless faces as he instructed the Ulcas to tie them securely and hang them from the branches of nearby trees.

  Gorgon then walked among them, savoring their pain and terror, enduring their proud glance. He explained how he had trapped them. Gorgon’s folk had proceeded quite some way north before separating into two groups, one moving east and one moving west. They had circled back and set this trap for the Elves, who simply followed their trail north unaware that they had deviated from it in any way. "I do not blame you for having been so easily taken, proud Elves of Tal-sithian. You were expecting ordinary Ulcas, not those under the command of Gorgon Elfhunter!"

  At this he removed his helmet, releasing his golden hair. The Elves despaired at the sight of him, for they had learned of his origins, and at least one had known Brinneal, his mother. This only seemed to enrage him.

  "I will not be pitied by the likes of you!" he roared at them. "Only your hatred will I take. And you shall have an equal measure of mine." So saying, he drew Turantil, which he wielded like a butcher’s knife, and spent the next several minutes inflicting as much pain as possible upon the Elves who still lived. Kharsh watched this with fascination, as did the other remaining Ulcas in the Company. By the time Gorgon had finished with them, the Elves were in agony, no doubt longing for death.

  Kharsh had learned one thing from this experience: the Shadowmancer had saddled him with a fearsome task. Gorgon was a force beyond many in his long experience. Yet Kharsh felt a foreboding deep within—this consuming hatred his new commander felt for the Elves would be his undoing somehow. Kharsh would have to be very, very careful. Gorgon was a master at inflicting pain and would feel no qualms at all about inflicting it upon anyone who displeased him. This lesson was not lost on Kharsh or on any others of the Black Command.

  When the order to depart came, the Ulcas quickly gathered their provisions, moving north once more, leaving the dying Elves to suffer until their end came. As Kharsh heard the last of their agonized cries drifting behind him on the wind, he felt a most disturbing surge of emotion that might almost have been pity. For one such as Kharsh, that, indeed, was saying something.

  The Lady Arialde had summoned the Lord Airan, for her mind’s eye had revealed things that were disturbing, and she had need of his counsel. She turned to him, eyes full of sorrow.

  "The enemy has taken our people…none of those we sent in pursuit of him will return. I hear their cries drifting upon an ill wind that blows from the Darkmere, and I have sent the Company upon its way to complete a task that I fear is beyond them, though my heart tells me otherwise."

  Airan was dismayed at her pronouncement, but then he answered her: "Trust your heart, for it has always spoken true, even when your mind says otherwise. If your heart would have faith in these souls that have been set upon this path, then that faith is well placed."

  Arialde sighed. Lord Airan’s gentle words had reassured her, yet she remained troubled. While it was true that her heart held much faith in the Company, her mind recalled that which the Stone had revealed, and she knew the sorrow that would be visited upon them by Gorgon was just begin
ning.

  As night fell, the Company prepared to rest. Fima, Rogond, and Thorndil saw to the fires, as the Elves busied themselves with caring for the horses and in general making themselves useful. Now that the group numbered fifteen, they felt that there was little to fear in this country, though they would still keep a watchful eye. It would be rare for any but the most determined or foolhardy Ulcas to attack such a large and well-armed company of Elves, even after sundown. Soon they were relaxing in small groups, eating and drinking, but the overall mood was rather subdued.

  Gaelen rose and walked west, toward the setting of the moon, until she was far away from the firelight. Climbing a tall tree, she settled back to look up at the brilliant stars, which blazed so brightly that her heart ached with longing for them. If only she could share this vision with someone. Of course, her beloved Rain had shared them with her on a time, and she willed with all her strength that he might once again behold them. She called to him, but he did not answer. The realm in which his spirit resided was closed to her.

  At that moment, Gorgon Elfhunter looked deep into the mirror. For a moment he swayed as the usual wave of pain shot through his body, making him shudder. Then his vision came suddenly, filling his world with a field of brilliant stars. He had never seen such incredible beauty! He was completely rapt, and stared at them in spite of himself, hardly daring to breathe. He heard Gaelen muttering in her soft, clear voice:

  "If only you could know how beautifully the stars burn tonight… if only you could feel the longing in my heart for them… and for you."