Elfhunter

by C S Marks

  In a few moments Gryffa heralded the approach of Rogond, Galador, and Gaelen. They were relieved to see Nelwyn and Fima apparently alive and healthy; nothing seemed amiss in the area until Gaelen suddenly went rigid, scenting the air.

  "Ulcas!" she hissed, turning toward the west, her bow fitted in a blur of motion.

  Nelwyn grabbed her arm. "They’re dead, Gaelen, and there were but two of them. There have been no others; I just returned from the watch."

  Gaelen scented the air again. "Dead, eh? So they are. It is sometimes difficult to tell with Ulcas, as they often smell worse alive."

  Nelwyn and Fima continued to occupy themselves with making ready to leave, and neither of them would make eye contact with either Rogond or Galador. "I learned something about you recently, Lore-master," said Rogond, who was following Fima around, trying to get him to look at him. "I was not aware that herb-lore interested you in the slightest. This must be a recent fascination. After all, what else could explain the sudden desire to travel swiftly for three days on horseback to this distant corner of the Elven-realm? You wouldn’t care to enlighten us, would you?"

  Fima continued his pretense of packing up his already well- secured belongings. "Not at this time, thank you," he replied. "Perhaps I will have some things to tell you when we return to the Elven-halls. Until then, my friend, I would suggest you not press either of us.’" He shot a knowing look at Rogond, who knew then that Fima had every intention of sharing his insights, but this was not the time.

  Nelwyn was having far worse luck with Galador, who was angry with her for worrying him. Rogond could hear their voices from the undergrowth, engaged in a lively argument. Nelwyn, like Fima, was reluctant to explain herself, and pleaded with Galador to wait until a better time. He was indignant; Rogond heard the prideful tone of his voice as he lectured Nelwyn concerning the folly of going so far from the safe areas of the realm without him. Rogond winced at this. Nelwyn had lived for hundreds of years as a hunter-scout and had dealt quite well with the hazards of traveling in the Greatwood without Galador, and her annoyance was apparent as she so informed him. Then she accused him of suffocating her, which hurt his feelings. Rogond would not suffer himself to hear more, and went in search of Gaelen, who had disappeared into the forest, apparently in search of the Ulcas.

  When he finally discovered her she was indeed tending to the dead Ulcas. She had dragged them into a clearing with some difficulty, as they were large and heavy, but she had grown stronger of late with her preparations for battle. For some reason Rogond felt reluctant to approach her, and as he watched he beheld a sight to chill his blood.

  She had taken some stout vines and bound the wrists of the dead Ulcas. Then, straining with all her might, she hoisted them from sturdy branches to dangle grotesquely before her. Rogond was strongly reminded of Gelmyr. She had tied small pieces of parchment onto the arrow-shafts that protruded from their dead flesh; written upon each was the word "Trespassers!"

  Rogond remembered Noli with the parchment clutched in his dead hand, and he suddenly felt ill as he beheld the satisfied expression on Gaelen’s face. He could imagine the same expression upon Gorgon as he hung Belegund, Noli and Tibo in Cós-domhain. Gaelen’s sharp ears detected Rogond’s presence and she turned to him, looking somewhat quizzical at the look of trepidation on his face.

  "What is it, Aridan? Is something wrong?"

  He was not quite sure what to say to her. "Ahh…I suppose not… it’s just that I had never seen you arrange such a display before. What is the meaning of it?"

  She looked back at the Ulcas with satisfaction, then turned to him as though he were an untutored child. "They will be left to warn any of their fellows that an ill fate awaits trespassers in the Realm of Ri-Aruin," she stated, as though it should be obvious and there was nothing sinister about it. "It’s our custom sometimes, especially in this remote area. Better to warn them now than to deal with them later." This explanation seemed to satisfy Rogond, but Gaelen had not cared for his expression when she had first turned to him. He had plainly been horrified, and she did not understand. What was so horrifying about two dead Ulcas?

  Rogond returned to the glade to find Nelwyn, who was obviously unhappy as she prepared to ride. He drew her aside for a moment, and then led her to the place where the Ulcas were hung. Gaelen was by now looking to Siva, making ready to leave with her companions. Nelwyn stopped in her tracks when she saw the Ulcas, and Rogond could tell from the look on her face that if this was indeed a custom followed by the Elves of the Greatwood, it was a very, very uncommon custom. She turned to Rogond with an expression of consternation.

  "Gaelen did this?" she asked in a small voice. Rogond had not often seen such a look of disquiet upon Nelwyn. She shuddered, then turned and made her way back to where Gryffa was saddled and waiting for her.

  The Company rode through the long afternoon, until they decided to stop and refresh themselves. Nelwyn and Galador were not speaking, and would barely even acknowledge each other. Gaelen sat by the small fire they had built; it was obvious to Nelwyn that she was not really speaking to Rogond, either, though Nelwyn did not know why.

  Nelwyn was overcome with melancholy and wandered away from her friends to stand alone in the forest, silent tears glistening in her eyes. She did not hear Galador come up behind her, and was startled as he placed a hand upon her shoulder. She was in desperate need of comforting, and when she turned and beheld him, she fell into his embrace, muttering apologies over and over. Galador responded in kind, for he had come to try to heal the rift between them. He knew that Nelwyn was deeply troubled.

  "What has so upset you, my beloved? Why did you lie to Gaelen and hide the truth from me? What brought you here if not the order of the herb-master? Please tell me, that I might understand."

  Nelwyn drew back and faced him. She could not keep this inside any longer; she needed to confide in Galador. Perhaps he would be able to suggest a wise course of action, for he was true of heart and he cared for Gaelen. Perhaps Galador would know what to do.

  "I have a tale to tell you, but you must promise not to reveal it to anyone, not even Rogond. Fima has agreed to tell him when the time is right. Do you understand?"

  Galador nodded, but he was afraid. This tale of Nelwyn’s would tell of naught but sorrow and pain; he could see it in her eyes. Then Nelwyn told Galador all that she had learned. When she finished, Galador was white-faced and shaken. He had expected a tale of woe, but his expectations fell far short of reality.

  "Will you think on this, my love, and help to guide me? I cannot imagine what my course should be—how can I ever tell Gaelen? She will not be able to handle this dreadful news. And yet, she will have to be told. We all risk our lives and the lives of others whenever we are near her. What, then, must we do?" She implored Galador, desperation in her eyes. Galador had no answer for her.

  "I…I will think on it, Nelwyn," he muttered, then turned from her and went off alone to collect his thoughts and absorb the impact of what he had learned.

  Back in the encampment, Rogond and Fima sat on either side of Gaelen, partaking of bread and water. Fima kept looking over at Gaelen, who stared straight ahead into the fire, and neither moved nor spoke. Tomorrow they would reach the King’s halls once again, but this did not cheer her. She did not understand why Nelwyn had lied to her about her errand, or why no one was speaking to anyone else, or why Rogond and Fima kept looking at her as though she were dying of some pestilence that would no doubt be transmitted to anyone who drew near. She sighed and rose from the fireside, crossing to where Siva was tethered. She stroked the mare’s neck, running her fingers through her silken mane, and found some comfort.

  They headed back north along the Forest River, a deep and fairly swift watercourse that flowed from north to south and passed directly beside the Elven-hold. They were not more than a few hours’ journey away when they decided to stop for the night, as Nelwyn was more weary than Galador had seen her since their time in Mountain-home. In truth, she
was heartsick. She was no closer to a solution to the terrible dilemma of what to do about Gaelen, and the strain was graven into her face, especially her eyes.

  Galador wanted desperately to help her, but did not know what could be done. He had been frightened to his very marrow when Nelwyn told him why she had come to the borderlands of the realm with only Fima for protection. Gorgon had known through Gaelen, and he had sent his Ulcas to capture Nelwyn and bring her before him. What if they had succeeded? Galador shuddered, feeling shaky and ill at the very thought. For a moment he pictured Nelwyn hanging from a tree in the manner of Gelmyr, and his vision swam until he closed his eyes and banished the vision, attempting to clear his thoughts. They were all in dreadful danger. What if they let something slip in front of Gaelen such that Gorgon was privy to information that would lead him to accomplish some undoubtedly horrific end? What if the next time Nelwyn was not prepared and Gorgon took her? What if…?

  Galador found himself wandering in the deepening darkness. He needed to be careful, as the forest was so dark and forbidding at night that it would be easy to lose one’s bearings. Though the forest was actually quite beautiful within the Elf-realm, Galador knew that it could still bewilder him in the dark. This was not his home, and he knew that he would never be truly at ease here without Nelwyn beside him.

  It was with such unsettling thoughts in his mind that he came upon Gaelen sitting alone, a single shaft of moonlight filtering down through the canopy to illuminate her pale, upturned face. Galador could see that she was struggling with thoughts of her own. Then she began to shiver despite the warmth of the evening, and Galador knew that, if Nelwyn was right, Gorgon was now privy to whatever she saw or heard. Galador was overcome with revulsion for a moment. The risk of Gaelen revealing information to Gorgon that would bring sorrow and death upon Nelwyn was more than he could allow. He had to protect Nelwyn, whatever the cost. He knew in his heart that if Gaelen learned of this terrible invasion of her senses she would most likely go mad. Mad enough, he supposed, to accomplish her own death. He gazed at her for a moment, imagining her reaction to this dreadful news. His heart welled over with pity then, and his trembling hands strayed to his bow.

  The visions of Nelwyn hanging like Gelmyr, cut to ribbons and dying horribly, would not leave his mind. Before he was even aware of it he had fitted an arrow to the string, and, crouching silently in the dark, he drew on Gaelen, aiming the point of the arrow at her slender throat. All he had to do was release, and the nightmare would end. She would be gone, and Gorgon would have no power over her. He would not be able to harm Nelwyn, would not be able to visit sorrow and death upon the Elves using information gleaned unwittingly from Gaelen. She would go to Ri-Elathan, her beloved, with what remained of her sanity intact. She would never know the terrible truth of her complicity with the enemy. Yes, he thought, his right hand trembling as it held Gaelen’s life on the tips of three fingers, this would be kinder. He could take her from all reach of pain and keep Nelwyn safe. All he had to do was release.

  The words of Lady Arialde came to him then, as clearly as on the day she had sent them. The slaying of Elf by Elf is not to be permitted, even in an effort to protect those we love. Do not give in to such desires, Galador. All must play their part. His hands shook harder than ever as he struggled, his thoughts at an impasse. Arialde was right. He could not take Gaelen’s life, even to save Nelwyn or preserve her own sanity. It was not his place to do so. He turned the bow skyward, releasing the arrow straight into the treetops, uttering a small cry of frustration as he did so, which caused Gaelen to turn and wonder what had come over him.

  The next morning, as the Company assembled at first light and prepared to make the relatively short journey back to the Elven-hold, Galador drew Fima aside. "Nelwyn has told me of your discovery, Fima. I know the truth about Gorgon’s mirror. You have been charged with telling Rogond, have you not?"

  "Yes, but I thought I might wait until we are safely back in civilized company, as I really do not know how he will react. Gaelen will have to be told as well, and the sooner the better. I am uncertain as to which of us will draw that painful duty." Fima shook his head.

  "You are aware that Rogond has declared his love for Gaelen and pledged himself to her?" asked Galador.

  Fima’s eyes grew wide for an instant. "I was wondering whether some such thing might have occurred. She seems very distant from him…how did she take it?"

  "She is considering her choices, but from what I gather, her response was not at all what Rogond would have wished for. She has asked him not to press her, and so he has not. His timing was less than ideal, given the circumstances. I fear they shall both have their hearts broken. But Fima, there is something that troubles me. We must not wait until we enter the Elf-realm, as we dare not risk Gorgon’s discovering any information that might aid him in doing harm to Ri-Aruin’s folk. You must tell Rogond at once. I would prefer to tell Gaelen as well, but I know this will be very delicate and we must wait until the time and circumstances are right. At least Rogond may be able to keep her from being privy to the King’s secret councils, or showing Gorgon the layout of the underground fortress. My advice would be to get her out into the forest as quickly as possible."

  "We shall need Nelwyn for that," said Fima.

  Galador was adamant. "No! I don’t want Nelwyn anywhere alone with Gaelen, especially in the forest. Gorgon has already revealed his desire to take her! I will not allow it."

  Fima raised both eyebrows at this. "I was not aware that you controlled her movements, Galador. Be careful, my friend. She has an independent mind. That is one of the things you love about her—do not attempt to govern her." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I take your point. It will be better if Rogond knows. I shall seek him now."

  Fima found Rogond extinguishing the remnants of their small fire. The moment the Ranger looked into the eyes of his friend the dwarf, his heart grew cold. Surely, there was bad news coming. "What is it, Fima?" he asked, his voice anxious.

  "Come with me, Rogond. I have some ill news that I must bring you, but you must hear it. Come with me. We cannot risk being overheard." Rogond rose from beside the fire as Nelwyn came into the clearing leading Gryffa.

  "Where is Gaelen?" asked Fima, as he thought Nelwyn would know.

  "She is watering Siva and Eros. She will bring them here when they are finished," Nelwyn replied, a note of trepidation in her voice. "When she does, keep her here, will you?" said Fima, gesturing to Rogond to follow him.

  Nelwyn knew then what Fima was about to do, and she grieved for her friend Rogond, who would surely be devastated. She nodded to Fima, knowing the importance of her task. She must occupy Gaelen long enough for Fima to deliver his message, and for Rogond to react to it.

  Fima bade Rogond sit upon a moss-covered log, as he stood before him, eye to eye. Then, he drew a deep breath and began his tale of the mirror. Rogond, who thanks to Amandir’s warning was not entirely unprepared, listened with grave intensity, his face fixed in a calm expression that belied the horror in his eyes.

  "So, that’s how Gorgon came to take Belegund, and Tibo and Noli, and the Elves of Tal-sithian," he said.

  "Yes, and that’s why he did not kill Gaelen in Cós-domhain," said Fima, "though he came perilously close!"

  "This will be a heavy burden for her to bear," said Rogond. "And I have not made things any easier by forcing her to consider her feelings for me at this point. Alas that I did not know better!"

  "There is much that you still do not know, Rogond. Nelwyn held a vision in the Stone of Léir. It showed Gorgon using Gaelen’s eyes to bring down the Realm of the Greatwood. You were dead, as was Thorndil, and Wellyn, and even Galador was near death. The Woodland was overcome by Darkness, and Gorgon was leading a mighty host. This is a grim vision indeed."

  At that moment, they heard a sound behind them in the undergrowth. It was a sort of frightened, strangled moan, an expression of pain so deep that it sounded as though it had welled up from the very so
ul and could not be suppressed. At the same time, back at the encampment, Nelwyn was horror-stricken to see Galador leading Réalta, Eros, and Siva into the clearing before her, for she realized that Gaelen was somewhere else.

  Rogond rose abruptly and turned about with Fima, hearing a rustling and thrashing in the undergrowth, followed by another small cry that might have been a sort of repressed wail. It tore at their hearts as they guessed its origins. Against all design, Gaelen had approached them silently, as was her habit, and had heard all that was said. She had left the horses in the care of Galador, who knew of no reason to refuse her, and had gone in search of Rogond, as she had been fighting back a feeling of dread concerning him and wanted to make sure of his safety. She heard voices, and they sounded distressed, so she approached in her usual stealthy manner, stopping as she heard her name.

  She had thought to turn about, but she was drawn to the conversation and had heard all Fima had to tell, standing as still and silent as stone with icy water in her veins. There was a roaring in her ears, her heart was hammering, and she could hardly dare to breathe as Fima described Nelwyn’s vision in the Stone. Gaelen possessed a ready mind, and she quickly assembled the pieces of the puzzle, to her abject and utter consternation.

  A small cry had escaped her, and as Rogond and Fima turned toward her, she staggered back through the undergrowth, blundering away from them, trying not to cry out. She heard Rogond call her name in a panicked voice that tore the heart. She turned and ran then, as she could not face him, could never face any of them ever again.

  When she encountered Nelwyn and Galador, they both guessed what had befallen. Nelwyn reached out toward her, but in her anguish Gaelen could only cry out and back away, both hands flung up before her. They heard Rogond call her name again, and a moment later he appeared with Fima at his side. Gaelen looked around like a trapped animal as her four friends tried in vain to calm her. She could not grasp the reality of what had been revealed—it was simply too horrific.