Elfhunter

by C S Marks

  She gave a convulsive heave, constricting her chest in an all-out effort, and was rewarded with a torrent of murky water issuing from her mouth and nose, soaking Rogond’s tunic. She took in a great gasp of air, and then heaved again, clearing more water as Rogond and Nelwyn both cried out in astonishment. She had spent her strength then, but Rogond grasped her with gentle hands to aid her in expelling enough of the remaining water that she could more easily draw air into her lungs. She was freezing cold and began shuddering violently, her teeth chattering between bouts of coughing and gasping. She grasped Rogond’s arm with failing strength. He held her and wept, but this time his tears were of relief, not sorrow.

  "We must warm her at once, or we may yet lose her," said Nelwyn. They looked around for any way to accomplish this, but there was nothing promising as they were all soaking wet from the crossing. If only they had a dry cloak! Gaelen had stopped shivering but was as cold as death, and her eyes were losing their focus. This did not bode well. Then, Rogond heard a familiar sound carried on the breeze from the north. He rose to his feet, still holding Gaelen, and gave a loud whistle.

  "Eros! Come to me, my friend! I need you!"

  It was not five minutes later that the ever-faithful Eros appeared, still bearing Rogond’s saddle-pack. Behind him rode Galador and Fima on Réalta, and Wellyn, mounted on Gryffa. Gaelen was saved by the devotion of her friends, for they provided dry, warm cloaks to wrap her in as Rogond held her, rocking her gently and speaking to her in a soft voice.

  "Gaelen, my beloved, it will be all right. Your friends are here, and no one holds you to blame. We will get through this terrible time, my beautiful, stalwart Gaelen. I have a plan that will trap the creature Gorgon, who has wrought so much misery. I cannot carry it out without your help, my friend, my love. Take strength from those who love you."

  Nelwyn, Galador, Fima, and Wellyn each spoke to Gaelen then. Wellyn took her hand and kissed it. Rogond looked into his ageless face and saw the shock and anxiety in his clear, blue eyes. Fima had told him everything, and it was a lot for him to take in all at once.

  Rogond handed the bundle of cloaks that was Gaelen over to him, saying, "Take her, Wellyn, for you are dry and warm, and can aid her better than I." The Elf looked somewhat surprised, then appreciative, as he held Gaelen to him, his eyes closed. Perhaps the Aridan was trustworthy after all.

  They waited until Gaelen was warm and enough of her strength had returned such that the journey back to the Elven-hold would not tax her too much. Then they placed her in Rogond’s arms, and Eros bore them both to the safety and comfort of the underground fortress. Gaelen was laid in a warm chamber upon a soft bed and given warming liquids to strengthen her. She remained unmoving and inert until the following day. When she roused herself, the first sight before her was the relieved face of Rogond. His eyes were red-rimmed, and it was obvious that he had not slept. She had not yet spoken, and as he sat by her side holding her hand, she turned to him.

  Her hand strayed to her throat, her fingers searching for her familiar talisman, and Rogond suddenly realized that the leather pouch containing the banner of Ri-Elathan was not there. Had someone removed it? No, now that he thought about it, it had not been around her neck when he had ministered to her on the riverbank. He guessed that it must have broken free during her tumultuous trip along the river-bottom. Evidently, Gaelen had arrived at the same conclusion— he could see it in her eyes. She looked lost and incomplete without it; the loss of this token grieved her more than he could ever know. She sensed him looking at her and withdrew her hand, attempting in vain to hide the depth of her sorrow. After a moment, she spoke to him. "Did you mean what you said about a plan to bring down Gorgon?" she whispered, her voice shaky and weak.

  "Yes, Beloved. I do mean it. But now we must devise a way that we may converse without risking the chance of his knowing our minds. Let me take your arm. I think I know a way."

  She extended her arm, and he drew his fingertip carefully across the flesh of her inside forearm in a series of graceful curves and lines. She shook her head, frowning, then understanding dawned, and her eyes grew wide. Of course! He was drawing characters upon her arm—runes that were used for the writing of lore. She smiled, and it was a sight that lifted Rogond’s spirits beyond measure.

  "Do you perceive, my love?" Gaelen nodded. "I do," she replied.

  Then Rogond began to trace a message so that he might be sure that she understood him.

  I L-O-V-E Y-O-U L-I-T-T-L-E O-N-E.

  "To whom do you refer as little, Aridan?" she whispered, just before her eyes closed with weariness, and she slept.

  Rogond finally fell into sleep himself, but was awakened after only a few hours to the sound of anguished cries. He jerked upright and rose to his feet as he beheld Gaelen, who had fallen to the floor and was now screaming in terror. Her eyes were wide open, but she did not see him or anything else around her, and he concluded that she had gone into the realm of waking dreams and was now in the grip of a very unpleasant nightmare. He tried to restrain her as she fought him with surprising strength, still screaming.

  "Leave me, Dark Horror! Leave me and come no more!"

  She drove her clenched fists into her eyes, as though trying to drive Gorgon from her. Rogond gripped her arms and lifted her, placing her back on the soft bed, though she continued to struggle. Her face was twisted with pain as well, as she was badly bruised from her trip through the Narrows. Though Rogond tried not to hurt her, it was difficult.

  He spoke urgently: "Gaelen, Gaelen! Don’t be afraid. It’s all right!" She sagged sideways, her eyes glazed, unblinking. Then she closed them, and when she began to weep, he knew that she had awakened. He covered her with blankets, stroking her hair and soothing her with his voice. It took time to master herself, and he knew that she would fight this battle time and again, probably for a long while. Rage welled within his gentle heart, and he resolved to arrange a council with the King as soon as he could find someone to relieve him from the watch; he did not want to ever leave Gaelen alone.

  As if sensing his thoughts, she opened her eyes again, and to his relief they were clear and lucid, though dark shadows had already begun to appear around them. "It’s all right, Rogond. The horror has passed for now, and I shall rest. Do what you must do. I’ll be all right."

  "Of course you will, but I would still see you attended to. You are badly hurt and your strength is uncertain. I shall go and fetch Nelwyn. Perhaps she will tell you a tale."

  Gaelen nodded, as she would like that very much. She sighed and drew the blankets around her as Rogond kissed her damp forehead, then turned and left her. He had not been gone long when a sudden wave of cold overtook her, and she shivered. She wondered whether Gorgon could be the cause of it, and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, disgusted and heartsick.

  She realized that Gorgon must not find out that anyone knew of the existence of the mirror, and so she suppressed the urge to cry out. Her enemy would hear only silence and would see only darkness. She was filled with loathing, desiring more than anything to tell the vile creature of her hatred, but for now she lay, sweat-soaked and shaking, wondering how she would ever survive this dreadful presence, this contemptible violation of her senses. The words of Farahin came back to her—she was to be the instrument by which Gorgon would be vanquished.

  She thought of the plight of Duinar, the Magic-user who had tried in vain to contain the eruption of the Fire-mountain that had destroyed Tuathas, and settled herself to her own seemingly impossible task.

  Rogond found Nelwyn soon after, as she would not go far from her cousin until Gaelen was back on her feet. Galador was there also, and he spoke to Rogond.

  "I am ashamed, my friend. All this is my fault; I did not know that I should not have taken the horses from Gaelen, but if I had thought about it, I would have been wiser. I’m so terribly sorry."

  Rogond reassured him. "She had to find out, Galador. Though I might have chosen a better time and place, she still would not have ta
ken it well. You are not to blame."

  Nelwyn went to attend Gaelen, but Rogond stayed Galador from accompanying her. "Nay, my friend. They need time alone. Besides, I need you with me—you and Fima. We must go and see the King at once, for he must know all that we can tell. And I would bring a proposal before him."

  Galador nodded, as he had expected this. Rogond had some sort of plan to throw down Gorgon and his army before they could threaten the Elves of the Greatwood. Galador had learned that his friend the Aridan possessed a creative intelligence that, when he was motivated, was extraordinary. Galador doubted that Rogond would ever be more motivated than he was at present, and he went in search of Fima so that they might stand before the King.

  Gorgon had at last come in sight of the Barrens, which were in fact a group of rather formidable rock formations rising from the forest that surrounded them. Nothing grew there aside from a few small trees and shrubs that struggled up from the sparse, rocky soil. No traveler would venture there, and it was a secure refuge for his army of Ulcas, who were no doubt awaiting him. He had already crafted his response to the inevitable question of what had befallen the two unfortunates that had accompanied him on his foray into the Elven-realm. Indeed, he could not tell them the truth—that his henchmen had been taken by wary Elves and that he, Gorgon, had gone away disappointed rather than face the same fate. They would begin to lose some of their fear of him if that happened, and he must appear to be invincible. Gelmyr’s question of whether he would find himself with one of their blades in his back some dark night had already occurred to Gorgon.

  Aided by the stench of the Ulcan army, Gorgon drew near their camp, where he was greeted by Kharsh. They hailed each other with upraised fists, then Gorgon stalked by without speaking, for he would eat and drink and rest himself ‘ere he made any of his tale known. Kharsh followed him, joined by several others, until at last he sat before them in the cave that the Ulcas had designated as their command post. He tore into the meat and bread they offered him, still not deigning to speak. At last, Kharsh asked how the encounter with Nelwyn had gone.

  "Did you obtain satisfaction, my lord? Was the diversion as fulfilling as you had hoped?"

  Gorgon’s eyes narrowed, and he paused from his meal. He shot an icy glare at Kharsh, who dropped his gaze, though he knew somehow in his black heart that his commander was more vulnerable than he appeared. "No, Kharsh, thank you for asking," Gorgon said in a sarcastic tone. "It was a complete waste of time, as I sent the wrong two idiots to retrieve her for me. They were not gentle and had difficulty with her, and she was insensible when they brought her to me. She died quickly and in little pain. At least I accomplished her death, but I derived little enjoyment from it."

  Then one of the Ulcas who stood by asked what had happened to the two that had gone with Gorgon.

  Gorgon set down his meal and rose to his considerable height, a mass of taut muscle and sinew, radiating incredible aggressive power. He faced the Ulcas, who shrank back from his threatening glance. "Where do you think they are? They have paid the price for their incompetence," he growled in a menacing tone, a look of absolute disgust on his face. The Ulcas asked no further questions of him.

  Chapter 27: The Plans Are Made

  Rogond, Fima, and Galador stood patiently in the corridor, awaiting an audience with the Elven-king. They had been waiting for over an hour, and Fima was growing restive.

  "Do you suppose they will ever get around to letting us in there? I do hope we don’t have to stand here much longer, as I have never appreciated wasting my time in waiting. In Mountain-home it used to drive me to distraction sometimes. It was as if the Elves had all the time in the world to waste."

  Galador smiled at him. "But, we do, Fima. When you have lived as long as I have, you learn to be patient. Still, your point is taken, for our friend Rogond has a matter of grave importance to discuss. I would have thought Ri-Aruin would be a bit more anxious to hear of it."

  "You would be surprised at what goes on in the mind of the King," said a voice from down the corridor. They turned to observe Wellyn striding toward them, his blue-grey eyes keen and unwavering. "How long have you been waiting?" he asked Rogond, who replied, "not long" at the exact moment Fima said "nearly forever!" Wellyn smiled. As with most of his people he had never been fond of dwarves, but Fima was an obvious exception.

  Wellyn glanced over at the closed, guarded door to the King’s council-chamber. "You are here to discuss the matter of Gorgon and the mirror, are you not?"

  "Yes," Rogond replied. "I have a plan to trap him, but I need the King’s aid. The Greatwood Realm will be at grave risk unless we can draw him into a confrontation that he is not ready for, before he can amass too great a force. This has been foretold. It is this matter that most concerns Ri-Aruin, and I would counsel with him as soon as possible, for we will need to lay our plans quickly should he agree to aid us."

  "He will agree," said Wellyn, his jaw set, face determined. "Do not fear, my good dwarf. You shall wait no longer." He strode to the doors of the council chamber and, after a brief exchange with the guards, was admitted. Rogond, Fima, and Galador were escorted into the presence of the King almost immediately, which was of no surprise. Wellyn had looked quite resolute.

  Ri-Aruin received them graciously, inviting them to sit before him. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, but I sensed that your errand will keep you here for some time, and so I was dispensing with some important but easily completed tasks. Please make yourselves comfortable, for I would hear both your tale and your plan."

  As the others settled themselves in beautifully-carved wooden chairs, Rogond stood before Ri-Aruin and began to tell him all that he could of Gorgon and the mirror. When Rogond came to Nelwyn’s vision in the Stone of Léir, the King closed his eyes as though pained at the very thought. Wellyn stood beside the throne of his father, his young face impassive. He had heard most of the story already. After he had finished, Rogond drew a deep breath.

  "That is the tale as I can best relate it, my Lord Ri-Aruin. Now I would ask you to hear of a plan I have devised to trap the creature, for I will need your aid. Will you hear me?"

  Ri-Aruin nodded. They certainly would need to do something, and he had perceived that the Tuathan was highly intelligent and had taken the folk of the Greatwood to his heart. His plan was no doubt worth hearing. When Rogond had finished describing it, the King was no longer certain; the plan was very risky, and if the creature was as clever as they believed, it would be very difficult to set the trap without alerting him. Gaelen was a prime player in the plan, and Ri-Aruin wondered whether she would have the strength to stand under the pressure, and see it through to its completion. He muttered under his breath, forgetting for the moment that his son stood by and had heard every word.

  "She’ll manage, father. She will not fail in this task—I know it. Having set herself against this enemy, she will not rest until he is brought low."

  Ri-Aruin nodded, then turned to his son and smiled. "You have such faith in her, my son. Let us hope that it is well placed." He addressed Rogond and his friends. "I shall need time to consider your plan. In the meantime, rest and recover your strength, for this ordeal has been difficult. I will summon you after I have considered."

  When they had left the King’s chambers Fima stopped Rogond in the corridor. "That was one of the most harebrained ideas I have ever heard. What are you thinking? One slip and we are all dead!"

  "Then we must make certain that we do not slip," said Wellyn. "Tell me how I may be helpful, Aridan." The more Rogond came to know Wellyn, the better he liked him.

  "If you have some time now, I would seek aid in refining the plan. What do you know of the Barrens? Are you familiar with their design?" Wellyn nodded.

  "Then let us speak further, my friends," said Rogond. "We shall need to work this out quickly, for our enemy is gathering strength." Wellyn led them to a quiet chamber, where they spent the next several hours in planning. Rogond hoped that Gaelen was well, and that
Nelwyn would not run out of tales to tell her.

  Nelwyn had brought Gaelen food and drink, and then told her the story of how the magical realm of Monadh-talam came to be. She told of Shandor the Asarla, and Liathwyn, who was said to have been the most beautiful of all the Èolar. The story was perhaps not the best choice, as it ended in tragedy, and Nelwyn’s tale faltered as she described Shandor’s terrible, consuming grief. She looked into the eyes of her friend Gaelen, those deep, honest eyes reflecting a spirit that had never failed her, and imagined Gorgon looking through them. Nelwyn’s face reflected her horror at this notion for only a moment, but it was enough for Gaelen to notice. She turned away, and her eyes were filled with tears.

  "Go on, Nelwyn, aren’t you going to finish your tale? This is the part where Shandor goes mad." Gaelen’s voice betrayed her anxiety, and Nelwyn knew that she was terribly afraid of going mad herself. "Gaelen, you are not Shandor. You have already endured the loss of your beloved, and your sanity overcame your grief. You will not stray down the same path."

  Still, Gaelen wept as Nelwyn tried to calm her. Gaelen was afraid to say anything about her fears, lest Gorgon be listening. This was going to be incredibly difficult, as she didn’t know how long she could keep everything locked inside. Her crying intensified as Nelwyn tried to comfort her.