by C S Marks
The two Wood-elves held the honey pack aloft in triumph as they embraced each other. From the look of that pack it appeared that the evening was going to be very merry indeed! It would be the first of several merry evenings, such as they had not known in a long, long time. A good thing, for when Oryan and the Elves of Tal-sithian finally rejoined them there were but six, and their news would put all thoughts of merriment aside.
They appeared nearly a full day after they had promised, and their horses had been ridden hard and long. Rogond knew from the first that they would bear grim news, for there were but six of them, and two he recognized as the scouts that had been sent back. What had befallen the ones who were missing? They would all soon find out, as the Company gathered to hear the news. The horses were tended as the two scouts and Oryan sat upon the ground with Rogond, Thorndil, Gaelen, and Fima. Nelwyn and Galador stood together, and Amandir, as always, stood alone. The two missing Elves had been sent back to the Lake-realm with grim tidings, and the scouts warned the Company that their news would be hard to bear.
They described in broken voices that which they had seen when their comrades were found at last. They were drawn to them by carrion-birds, cresting a hilltop to view a horrible sight in the valley below: nearly thirty of the worthy Elves of Tal-sithian lay dead, and six had been tortured horribly and left to die. Nelwyn wept aloud as the scouts described them, imagining the suffering of their last hours. Gaelen stared ahead in stony silence, for she now knew the cause of that suffering. She looked up at Amandir, who was staring hard at her with an expression of loathing on his face. She turned to the scouts. "I am now certain that Gorgon Elfhunter was responsible for their deaths, for this is the way he deals with unlucky captives. Gelmyr was left in similar fashion, though we believe Gorgon killed him before leaving his body for us to find. These apparently were not deemed worthy of such merciful consideration."
Rogond placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her, as she was rapidly becoming enraged. Amandir’s look of loathing did not fade from his face as he answered her.
"Gorgon is only partly responsible, if I’m right. If not for you, Elf, he would not have succeeded. I do not know how you are managing it, but he is learning of our plans through you somehow. If it is all the same, I would prefer that you not be present at this council." "It is not the same to us!" roared Rogond, gripping Gaelen’s shoulder. She was looking at Amandir in shock. The scouts and Oryan wore similar expressions, as though they could not imagine such a thing, but then Amandir spoke to them.
"How was it that our people were taken? Did you investigate?"
The scouts nodded. "It appears that the Ulcas traveled north, split into two groups and doubled back to lie in wait for our people, who followed the tracks right into the trap," they said. "It was obvious that the Ulcas knew they were being tracked."
Amandir questioned them further. "And how long do you believe it took for this trap to be laid?"
"At least a few hours; they went quite a distance out of their way to accomplish it." Understanding dawned in their faces, and they continued. "They must have known of our plan, though the signs indicate that our people were never directly detected; they did not get close enough until the trap was already in place."
Rogond and Fima stood in defense of Gaelen. "The Ulcas no doubt assumed you would pursue them when you found your other friends missing. It is not that difficult an assumption to make," said Fima. "The idea that Gaelen would do anything to aid Gorgon is absurd. And if you even suggest such a thing again, I shall need to fetch my axe and teach you some manners, along with a measure of common sense!"
Amandir drew himself up proudly before Fima, and things might indeed have gone ill had not Gaelen chosen that moment to stand between them.
"Enough, both of you! All right, everyone, I must now confess. I have been sending messages to Gorgon via trained carrier-bats. If it displeases you to have my presence at council, Amandir, then feel free to leave it. Your behavior is only partly excused by your grief, and I am tired of it. And though I appreciate your offer of courtesy lessons from your dwarvish axe, Fima, I am more than capable of defending myself from one such as Amandir. Do not abase yourself thus!" She turned to the scouts. "Where were the Ulcas headed?"
The scouts were taken aback for a moment, as they had just witnessed two of the Company nearly coming to blows. "They appeared to be continuing north," they answered.
"Then I suggest that we all cross the river as soon as possible. Ulcas loathe the water, and they will not cross for many leagues yet, until it broadens out and becomes quite shallow. We shall need to be swift if we wish to muster the forces of the Greatwood, for that is what I intend to try to do." She turned to Nelwyn.
"Are you taking this down? I shall need a suitable message for my carrier-bat this evening." Gaelen turned and strode off, furious, and began to make ready.
Fima chuckled after her, but Nelwyn’s face was pale. Things were beginning to fall into place. If somehow Amandir was right, they all had much to fear from Gaelen, and Nelwyn had no idea how she would ever break the news to her friend. Nelwyn would have to be certain her fears were well founded before she told Gaelen of them. She planned to have a discussion very soon with Lore-master Fima concerning the golden object that she had seen clutched in Gorgon’s hand.
The river crossing did not prove too difficult for the mounted Company, though Fima swore he would never sit a horse again as Eros plunged across; it was all Rogond could do to keep the terrified dwarf from pitching off. Dwarves do not swim well, and they ordinarily do not place themselves in the position of needing to. Although the crossing proceeded without much further incident, the accidental but regrettable soaking of the remainder of the honeycomb set the tone for the next several days.
Gaelen was especially disappointed, as she had been saving it to give to Ri-Aruin and Wellyn, for wild honey was considered to be a delicacy, and she knew that Wellyn, in particular, relished it. They had no other gift to bring. Gaelen suspected that they might need a peace offering for the King, who would no doubt be displeased that she and Nelwyn had not returned as quickly as they had promised when they left for Mountain-home.
At any rate, Gaelen was in a dark mood for much of the rest of the journey. Rogond and Fima both tried to cheer her, but she spent much of her time alone, brooding and avoiding contact with Amandir, who had stubbornly refused to apologize to her for his accusations. Neither Rogond nor Fima would speak directly to him.
Rogond, in particular, was dismayed by Gaelen’s behavior. She would not sing, and she would not sit with them around the evening fire when tales were heard and told. Normally Gaelen loved such things, but now she sat alone under the stars, usually in some tall tree, until dawn came. Rogond noted with dismay that her arm was bound one morning—had she cut herself again? It was not like her to be so careless, and he worried for her.
Nelwyn was cordial enough to Amandir, as was Galador, but Amandir remained distant, preferring to speak only to Oryan and the Elves of Tal-sithian. He would not deign to speak with Thorndil, either, which did not dismay the Ranger in the least. Nelwyn noticed that Amandir’s eyes were often red and his face pale, as though he had been weeping, but she wisely refrained from asking him about it.
Amandir and Gaelen did share one behavior in common: they both practiced with their various weapons at every opportunity, and the Company came to admire Amandir’s impressive skill with a blade. They wondered what was going through his mind as he whirled and slashed at his invisible enemy. Gaelen’s formerly slender arms and shoulders were becoming increasingly well-muscled as she sought to gain power in the use of Fima’s axe. She drew her bow with greater power as well and had suffered no loss of accuracy. When next she engaged the enemy in battle, she would be ready.
They kept a slightly different course toward the Elven-hold than the one familiar to Rogond and Galador, and Nelwyn estimated that the journey would take about eight more days at their present pace. One evening, she sought out Fima
, who was sitting by himself at the base of an enormous oak, smoking his clay pipe and looking thoughtful. Nelwyn approached and sat beside him as he turned to greet her. "Hello, Nelwyn. What brings you to me this fine evening? I sense you would ask a favor."
"That I would, Lore-master, for I came seeking wisdom. What do you know of objects that…that carry enchantment?"
Fima blinked at her. "Enchantment? You will be in want of knowledge then, Nelwyn, not wisdom. Why do you wish to know?" Nelwyn looked at her hands, which lay clasped in her lap. She turned to Fima, her green eyes beseeching him. "Please, Fima, I must trust you now to keep this in confidence. I beg you, do not be angry. I want to know the truth of Amandir’s accusations, and I suspect that there is something going on that Gaelen does not know about." She hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. Fima might as well know everything—he would need all information if he would be of any help. "In Tal-sithian I looked into the Stone of Léir and saw Gorgon with something in his hand. He was looking at me with… with Gaelen’s eyes. When he put the thing away, his own eyes reappeared."
Fima was looking at her with an expression of dismayed fascination. "Go on," he said. "What else did you see?"
Nelwyn drew a deep breath. "Is that not enough? I tell you, he had Gaelen’s eyes while he held the object…it was small, and made of gold. At one point it almost looked like…like a mirror. Was there ever a mirror that enabled the wearer to…to see what their enemies were seeing?"
Fima considered before rummaging in one of his many pockets, drawing forth the small worn leather volume that Arialde had given him. He thumbed through it for a few minutes, muttering to himself. Nelwyn was nearly bursting.
"Well? Are you going to help me, or are you just going to sit there reading that book?"
Fima was unfazed. "In time, my impatient Nelwyn, in time. Arialde has given a useful gift. This entire section of this very, very old manuscript is devoted to just such a question. Here the works of Dardis are described in detail, and there are many mirrors mentioned—Dardis had a fondness for them, you see. One of the first made by him was tiny and kept within a golden casing. It was said to confer the power to see and hear through the senses of one’s designated emissary. It would have been quite useful in war, or in peace. These writings state that the mirror was never put to use, because Dardis was uncertain of its effects on the bearer, or on the emissary. The author mentions that it had to be bound by the bearer to the chosen emissary using either a bit of their flesh or some possession of theirs." He continued to look into the manuscript.
"It says here that the mirror was among those objects crafted by Dardis that were unaccounted for after the Second Battle, where Dardis was so cruelly betrayed and slain. Such a great gifted hand, so tragically taken." He paused, bowing his head reverently, then began again. "The scholars believe that it was taken by Lord Wrothgar. If so, then it has been corrupted. Yet if it fell into the hands of the Dark Powers, why have we not seen it used before? Surely it was not kept all this time merely for Gorgon’s use."
"Who knows?" replied Nelwyn, who was now becoming alarmed. "What did this mirror look like? Is there a description in your manuscript?"
Fima looked deeper, and his eyes darkened. "There is," he said, "but to myself I will keep it, until you disclose the nature of the object in your vision. I will then know if they are the same."
Nelwyn closed her eyes, recalling the image as best she could. "It is difficult—I saw the mirror for only a few moments, and it was a blur most of the time. But I do remember this: it was of gold, with a clever lid that flipped open to reveal the mirror within."
Fima grew pale as he read the description of the mirror in the manuscript. "Nelwyn, this is very important, so think carefully. Was the cover engraved? Were you able to see any imagery upon it, and if so, what was it?"
Nelwyn did not care for the expression on Fima’s face, and she cared even less for the one that replaced it as she answered. "I thought…I thought I saw a seven-pointed star."
Fima’s face was now very grim. "Are you certain? Because if you are, I may have to apologize to that haughty Amandir, and our dear Gaelen will not be able to bear it. You must be absolutely certain." He sighed, and handed her the book. "Look upon this image, and tell me whether you have seen it before."
Nelwyn took one glance at the drawing and, to her horror, recognized the mirror at once. She thought quickly—she would have to put Fima off for now. She needed time to consider.
"I…I’m not sure. It might have been…different. I’m not certain." But she could not look Fima in the eye. "I must take my leave of you, Lore-master, though I am grateful for your aid and enlightenment. Please forgive me." She rose and left abruptly, before Fima could see the tears of panic that now welled in her beautiful green eyes, escaping into the forest to be alone with her thoughts.
Fima watched her go, a deep dread in his heart. He did not envy her those thoughts, for he knew that she was now aware that her dearest friend and kin was quite possibly ensnared in a web set by Gorgon, a situation that might soon devour her sanity. Fima considered. Everything was falling into place now—the reason that Gorgon had shown up in Grundin’s Realm in the first place, the slaying of Tibo, the survival of Gaelen, and the death of the Elves of Tal-sithian. Everything made sense. Fima wept quietly for the first time in many, many years. He would keep Nelwyn’s secret as he had promised, but Nelwyn herself would have to come to grips with it, and then they would have to act. Fima loved both Nelwyn and Gaelen dearly, and he could not imagine the sorrow that would be set loose upon the day this awful truth would be revealed.
Nelwyn wept bitterly for some time, alone in the dark forest. This was indeed cruel news, and she could not fathom how she would act on it if it were true. She tried to catch her breath, which was coming in great gasps. With some effort, she mastered herself; she would not get any closer to the truth by weeping. In her heart she now resolved to lay a trap for Gorgon, one that would confirm her suspicions once and for all. She suspected that Gaelen’s recurring chills had something to do with Gorgon and the mirror, and she thought she knew just how to ensure that her suspicions were correct and that the Stone had indeed shown the truth.
Steeling herself for the coming task, she set about laying plans to carry it out, hoping that she was wrong. She vowed to tell no one, not even Galador, until she was absolutely certain one way or the other.
Chapter 24: The Mirror Revealed
The Company made their way through the deep forest without further incident, though there were times when it seemed as though strange creatures surrounded them on all sides, especially at night. Fima was not comfortable in this deep gloom at all, surrounded by ancient, moss-covered trees that seemed to resent his mere presence. The Elves of Tal-sithian were also ill at ease at first; they were accustomed to the light, open forests of the Deer-roaming, and this dark, oppressive tangle was not really to their liking.
Gaelen and Nelwyn, who were born and bred in the Greatwood, had seen the advance of evil in their beloved forest, spreading outward from the Darkmere, with its evil-smelling bogs full of misshapen, horrid creatures. Gaelen and Nelwyn, as hunter-scouts, surveyed and guarded the borders of the Elven-realm, and as such were constantly exposed to the perils of the Darkmere. So long as they were not disquieted, the others knew they had little to fear.
Rogond was relieved to see that the closer Gaelen drew to the Realm of Ri-Aruin, the happier she became. Though she still seemed subject to occasional chills, she laughed and played alongside Nelwyn, and she even sang a little.
One starlit night he heard her voice echoing among the ancient oaks. The great trees sighed and rustled their leaves almost as though they could hear. The Elves of Tal-sithian, who were accustomed to beautiful singing, were nevertheless enchanted by the haunting, soulful notes that seemed to hang in the air, lingering until the last of their sweetness faded from hearing. No one made a sound until the song ended. Rogond, who had closed his eyes in a waking dream, was st
artled by the sight of Amandir standing before him as Gaelen’s song ended, and all was silent again.
"I would speak with you, Tuathan," he said, his eyes hard in the firelight. Rogond regarded him for a moment, wondering what the Elf could possibly have to say to him. Rather than inviting Amandir to sit beside him, Rogond rose somewhat stiffly and faced him.
"Fine, Amandir. You are free to speak with me if you wish, but recall that I will hear no evil spoken of Gaelen. So if that is what you
have come to say, then leave without saying it, for I will not suffer it in my presence. What have you to say?"
"Only this. Your love for the Wood-elf is admirable, as is your loyalty. I will not comment on the wisdom of either, but I would say to you do not be blinded by it, for your lives hang in the balance." Rogond drew himself up before Amandir, and his grey eyes narrowed, glinting in the firelight as the Elf continued.
"Stay your wrath, and hear the rest of my tale, for I do not hold your beloved to blame. She is unwitting in her support of the enemy, but it makes her no less dangerous. Say nothing of importance in front of her. The enemy somehow knows what she knows. I no longer care for my own life, as there is but one purpose remaining in it, but I would not see you or your friends destroyed. In fact, I fear for Ri-Aruin and those of the Greatwood. It brings me no pleasure to tell you these things, for I hold no grudge against the Wood-elf, but I know her to be an instrument of the enemy, and therefore I must speak these words, though I earn only your enmity. You cannot now say that you have not been warned, and my conscience is clear. I will leave you now to your unhappy thoughts."
"You will not leave until I have said my piece," said Rogond. "I sorrow for your loss and for your pain. I see a heart that is empty save for grief, and I despair for you. I once thought that none could be as driven to destroy Gorgon as Gaelen has been, yet I see my error; your loathing of him is deeper and more consuming than hers could ever be. She has held onto her spirit; yours has been lost and overwhelmed by your pain. You are now just a vessel for grief, Amandir, and it has made you wretched. I truly sorrow for you. You still have not revealed to me the nature of this ‘knowledge’ that you possess concerning Gaelen’s complicity with Gorgon. It’s easy to make such claims, but far more difficult to support them with evidence and allow the facts to decide opinion."