Elfhunter

by C S Marks

  To his credit, Amandir allowed Rogond to finish. Then he bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were resigned and empty.

  "Do you think I care any at all for your opinion of me? Very well, Tuathan," he sighed. "We shall sit down together, and I will reveal the evidence to you. Then try to deny it, though your heart despair."

  At that moment, Fima approached them from Rogond’s left, his hand on his axe-handle.

  "And what is the nature of this discussion?" he said. "I can see that my friend Rogond is disquieted; surely no ill is being said of Gaelen, as I am certain a wise Elf such as Amandir would have taken my meaning earlier."

  Amandir addressed Rogond, ignoring Fima completely. "At such time as we are alone and I decide again to enlighten you, I will. Until then, remember my words and my warning. Share no secrets with her."

  Fima growled deep in his throat at Amandir’s retreating back. Rogond sighed. Fima was one of his dearest friends, but his appearance had indeed been untimely. There was nothing to do for it now, though.

  Fima muttered under his breath: "The idiot probably thinks I do not understand his tongue. How little he appreciates my abilities! I hope it continues, as he will say something to truly provoke me one day, and then I shall have an excuse."

  Rogond was tired of enmity. "Stop it, Fima," he said, eliciting a confused look from the dwarf. "At present, I don’t wish to discuss Amandir or even acknowledge that he exists, if it is the same to you." "Well said!" Fima enthused, lapsing back into the common tongue. "Let us take some rest ‘ere dawn comes. I don’t think the nightingale will favor us again tonight. What a beautiful song she sings. It was good to hear her again; it means her spirits are lifted.

  Will you go and find her now?"

  Rogond considered. "No, Fima, I believe from the sound of it that she is keeping the watch in the trees tonight. I cannot rest sitting in tree tops, though I might wish it. I shall stay on the ground, for I am weary. Goodnight, my stalwart friend." Rogond sat down beside Thorndil at the base of a large oak tree and closed his eyes, and Fima moved to join them.

  Neither Rogond nor his friend the dwarf truly rested that evening, as Rogond was troubled with thoughts of what Amandir would reveal to him, while Fima was troubled with thoughts of Dardis’ mirror and what they would all do should Nelwyn’s vision prove true.

  Later, as Fima slept, he found himself caught in the grip of a nightmare in which he had to apologize to Amandir over and over, but try as he might to speak the Elven-tongue, the words just would not come to him. The dream-Amandir laughed as the normally eloquent Fima was forced to use the common tongue, and even this was halting and awkward, to his extreme humiliation.

  They reached the borders of Ri-Aruin’s Realm four days later. Another day and they would be escorted into the halls of the King. Gaelen and Nelwyn were joyful but anxious, as they would indeed have a long and involved tale to tell Ri-Aruin when they finally found themselves in his presence. The two She-elves greeted the hunter- scouts who met their party as long lost friends (which, in fact, they were) and they spent the remaining travel time catching up on news.

  There were many in the Greatwood, it seemed, who were anxiously awaiting their return, including the kin of Talrodin and Halrodin. Wellyn had somehow fallen out of favor with his father, though none knew why. This was somewhat distressing to the people of the Greatwood, as the King normally got on very well with his eldest son and heir. Gaelen shook her head as she rode. It would surely be an interesting reunion. Impatient and anxious, she rode out ahead.

  As soon as she drew near to the Elven-hold, Gaelen saw a familiar figure standing tall upon the hilltop, his cloak unfurled behind him, his dark hair lifting in the wind. Gaelen knew him at once, and her heart leapt. She spurred Siva forward, galloping with all speed toward him, calling his name and waving. Wellyn broke into a wide grin and leaped down from his perch, striding out to meet her, and as the guards stood aside to let the mare pass, Gaelen dismounted and ran to him. They embraced joyfully and long, true friends reunited at last. In recent memory Gaelen had not been nearly as happy to see anyone as she was to see Wellyn.

  She buried her face in his tunic and breathed in his familiar scent, comforted by the warmth and strength of his arms and the gentle, clear sound of his voice. She really was home, Wellyn was really here, and she was surrounded by all that she knew and loved. In those few moments, weariness and despair seemed to fall away to be replaced with hope.

  Wellyn had been somewhat alarmed at the sight of her, but he kept it hidden. Gaelen was lean, hard, and travel-worn. She had aged; though her face was as young as ever, her eyes betrayed her. They shone with an almost desperate brightness, as though determined now to be happy after months of hardship and grief. She shivered slightly in his embrace.

  The rest of the Company, including Rogond, arrived a few minutes later. Gaelen and Wellyn were now talking with one another in excited voices, as Gaelen promised to tell him of her adventures.

  "Yes, Gaelen, remember you must keep nothing from me. You vowed to share all of your tales upon your return, and if I am any judge there will be too much to reveal in one night. We shall have several enjoyable nights in the telling…I look forward to it more than you can know."

  Gaelen smiled. "And I shall look forward to the telling. How I have missed you! Wait until I show you my skill with the longbow. I have been practicing!" She drew the weapon from over her shoulder to show him. It was beautifully made, and he was appreciative.

  "Ah, Gaelen. You are ever hopeful of besting me. Yet I must tell you that I have also been training since you left us, and you have little chance, though I am impressed that you are strong enough to pull this bow. Tomorrow we shall see!"

  Gaelen laughed as Nelwyn, Galador, Rogond, and the remainder of the Company drew nigh. Wellyn took his leave, stating that he wanted to inform Ri-Aruin of their arrival.

  "I will see you at the feast tonight, Gaelen. You shall sit at the King’s table, at my right hand." He shot a look at Rogond, his eyes telling a different tale from his smiling face. "I see the Tuathan followed you across the mountains. It is to his credit that he survived the crossing; you must have aided him greatly. I am relieved to see that he is still with you."

  Gaelen looked over at Rogond and winked. "Oh, he burdened us but little, my friend. We only had to save him once or twice."

  Rogond smiled, but his heart was troubled. He had not been aware of Gaelen’s deep affection for Wellyn, whose enmity toward him was obvious. Rogond had noticed that Wellyn would not address him directly, and he imagined Ri-Aruin’s attitude would probably be even worse. At least Gaelen seemed not to notice. She and Nelwyn were happy and excited as they spoke of the feast to come, and of their plans to reunite with their other friends. Gaelen took Rogond’s arm, her familiar spirited nature in full force once again, and went forward with him.

  The horses were taken to the stables, and the travelers were escorted to chambers where they could rest and refresh themselves until called before the King. Gaelen came to fetch Rogond, explaining that Ri-Aruin had requested an audience with him as well. He quickly made himself presentable, and they proceeded to the King’s private audience-chamber, where Nelwyn and Galador were already waiting.

  They would not have the time for the full telling of the tale until the following day, when the King would also hear from the Elves of Tal-sithian. Nevertheless, Ri-Aruin wanted to hear from them as soon as they arrived. He greeted the Company with a grave countenance, and listened in silence as they began.

  Afterward, Gaelen bowed before the King and spoke in a small, quiet voice: "We have returned as promised, my lord, and we seek the aid of the Elves of the Greatwood, for this is an enemy that will require the strength of many to be defeated. That is our purpose and that of our companions. The Elves of Tal-sithian were sent by the Lady of the Lake to see us safely home. Yet they have said they will remain and aid us in our quest to rid the world of this abhorrent creature. Ple
ase, my lord, will you aid us?"

  She raised her eyes to meet his, and though her posture still indicated submission, her spirit burned in her bright, unflinching gaze. Ri-Aruin smiled in spite of himself. She and Nelwyn had done him credit, by the sound of things. He could not help liking them, though their news was grave and their request somewhat bold. When he spoke, his voice was stern, but gentle.

  "I cannot answer, Gaelen, until I have heard all you and your companions have to tell. But we recognize the need to defeat this enemy, and will not turn our backs on that need. Take heart."

  He dismissed them soon after, bidding them take their rest so that they might feast long and merrily. "The four of you shall sit at my table tonight. You have done honor to the folk of the Greatwood.

  Now, rest and forget your cares, for you are safely in our realm. Tomorrow we shall speak more of your adventures and of your plans. Enjoy the full measure of our hospitality until then," he said, looking at Rogond in particular.

  The Ranger saw no enmity in Ri-Aruin’s glance, to his relief. Perhaps the King had realized that Rogond was an ally, or perhaps he had simply grown accustomed to the idea of him. Either way, Rogond thought, the acceptance of Ri-Aruin would make his stay in the Greatwood much less stressful. Of Wellyn, Rogond was far less certain, but he was content for now to deal with one problem at a time. Tonight he would feast with Gaelen and his friends, and he would not worry about the security of his heart’s desire before this tall Prince of the Realm. At least, not until tomorrow.

  Early summer was a wonderful time in the Greatwood. The weather was warm, but not oppressive, the nights were clear, and cool breezes stirred the trees and whispered gently in the reeds and tall grasses by the gently running river. The air smelled fresh, full of life and growth that would culminate in fruit and seed. As the Company prepared for the evening’s festivities, they already felt renewed and relaxed. Warm baths, clean, shining hair, and new, fresh clothing had lifted their spirits.

  Gaelen and Nelwyn brought out their finery for the occasion, and Rogond and Galador were likewise provided with tailored attire suitable for honored guests. But Gaelen noticed that Fima had not been provided for. He had packed a spare cloak, but his clothes were stained and travel-weary. Gaelen went with Nelwyn to see the King concerning this matter, and after waiting for what seemed an age, they were brought before him. Gaelen expressed her concerns, recalling that there had been no mention of Fima and Thorndil being included at the King’s table.

  Ri-Aruin corrected the situation at once, requesting that Fima be brought before him so that the King might explain his oversight. The dwarf was most gracious, chuckling to himself as Ri-Aruin explained that they had no spare raiment on hand that would likely fit him, but that all haste would be made to provide it. Thus it was that Fima found himself seated at the King’s table (the first of his race to do so), wearing drastically altered garments of blue and gold that had once been worn by the King himself. The alterations were difficult and had taken much of the afternoon, but Fima looked positively splendid, eliciting many curious looks from the Greatwood Elves. He sat to the right of Rogond, who sat at the right of Gaelen. Wellyn sat at her left, beside his father. Galador, Nelwyn, and Thorndil sat at the left hand of the King. To the left of Thorndil was an empty place, set for Belegund.

  The Elves of Tal-sithian had been given a royal welcome and were seated at their own long table in a position of honor, to the right of the King. Oryan and Amandir sat at the head, flanked by their companions, and they rose and drank the health of the King and of the people of the Greatwood. Amandir looked hard at Rogond as he spoke, and Rogond heard his voice as though inside his head: I will drink your health, Tuathan, for you will have need of it. We must speak of this matter, and soon. Rogond nodded slightly toward him, though his eyes did not show reaction to the message.

  There was a somber underlayment to this merry gathering, because Gorgon still lived, and the Elves of the Greatwood would soon be enlisted to aid in hunting him down. This task would be a daunting one, as they all knew, and lives would be lost.

  Gaelen lifted her glass in remembrance of Belegund; only she had witnessed his last moments, and she still felt that she had failed him. "I am sorry, my friend, that I came too late and with too little skill to aid you," she murmured in a soft voice. Wellyn perceived the hurt behind her closed eyes, and he placed a comforting hand on her arm.

  He tried to cheer her. "Let us begin our tale-telling tonight. Meet me by the river, beside the great stones, at the setting of the moon. I will bring food and wine, and we shall pass the time until the dawn." Gaelen smiled at him. "Most assuredly, we shall. And I hope I am strong enough to do justice in the telling. This is a long, long story my friend. I may need some help—perhaps Nelwyn could join us, or Rogond and Fima? They also have much to tell."

  "Not tonight, Gaelen. This is our time to renew our friendship and share thoughts and memories. Tomorrow will be soon enough for the others. Come alone, if you would enlighten me as promised. I shall await you."

  Gaelen nodded. She had indeed promised him this time, so many months ago. She then looked at the heavily laden table before her. "Food we shall not need, Wellyn, but wine may be welcome. Until the setting of the moon, then." They lifted their glasses in acknowledgment of the plan.

  Fima was truly happy to find himself at a table laden with delicacies of Elven creation, as over the years he had grown unaccustomed to being without it. The fare in the Greatwood was similar to that of Mountain-home, but simpler. The Wood-elves had not the same access to exotic spices and flavorings, but instead relied on the herbs and flowers that grew nearby. The wine, however, was among the best Fima had tasted. The meats were savory and tender, the greens fresh, and… the mushrooms! They were the most succulent and flavorful in Fima’s experience, and were black in color. Finally, huge trays of honey-cakes stuffed with cream and nuts were set at each table, and the gathering became as merry as it could be.

  Soon the feasting subsided and the telling of tales began. The Elves of Tal-sithian began to recount stories of the Lake-realm, and of their adventures since leaving it, including the frightening account of the disappearance of their friends, and the finding of the unfortunate remains of those that had been sent after Gorgon. The Wood-elves were dismayed and clamored to hear more about this enemy, who had already caused grief among their people. They feared that he was on a course set for the Greatwood, and they wished to be counted among those set to defeat him. There were not a few fierce, resolute expressions among them, for they were accustomed to defending their lands from all who would threaten them.

  Using the mirror, Gorgon witnessed some of this activity as he crouched with his followers near the borders of the Forest Realm. He would not enter it, as it was simply thick with Wood-elves, whose arrows were deadly and could do serious damage to his rather small army. The last thing he wanted was to allow Gaelen and Company to know of his presence there—he could not risk it. There was too much to be gained in secrecy, and he would not reveal himself until he was in the position to do the greatest amount of damage. Besides, it was a warm night, and the Barrens were not far away.

  This was a rather mysterious area of desolate rock set in the midst of the forest, with many dark hiding places. Gorgon had decided that for the sake of the Ulcas in his command, he would set up headquarters there, as the lands were more to their liking. Kharsh noted this with satisfaction; it was the first time Gorgon had thought to see to the comforts of his underlings. Of course, his reasons were purely selfish, as he wanted them fit and ready for battle, yet Kharsh saw this as Gorgon’s showing some promise as a field commander.

  Normally Ulcas are driven only by fear, and these had much to fear from Gorgon, but he had realized that they would work harder and fight better if they were not overly stressed. With this in mind he arranged to remain in a place where they could hide from the sun and where water was relatively plentiful. They had made their way slowly through the north and west of the Dar
kmere, taking an entirely different course from that of the Company, for they knew their ultimate destination. The north of the Darkmere held little to fear for Gorgon and his Ulcas, and they would reach the Barrens in a few days’ time.

  Gorgon listened to the tale of the Elves of Tal-sithian. It cheered him to hear the dread in their voices and to see the dismay on the faces of those assembled. Gorgon reflected that they had good reason to fear, and chuckled through his pain as the Elves vowed vengeance. Gorgon was happy to see that Gaelen had become a person of some importance and was now a central figure in their planning, for she knew more of Gorgon than anyone. He had only to remain vigilant, and he would learn what he needed to know.

  The She-elf was beginning to relax and perk up a little, though it seemed that she was always cold. Gorgon wondered—did his intrusion affect her thus? So long as the Company never became aware of the existence of the mirror, they would never make the connection. Still, he wondered. Even now, full of food and wine, she drew her cloak about her.

  Gorgon would not need to further avail himself of the mirror this night, as Gaelen would be engaged in telling the tale of her adventures. He needed to save his strength for more important matters, as the mirror both pained him and drew his strength—especially if he opened it and looked within. Luckily, that had become unnecessary. The connection between Gaelen and himself had become stronger with time—all he had to do now was hold the mirror in his hand. In fact, Gaelen’s vision and hearing vanished completely only when he placed the mirror safely in the small pouch at his belt.