Elfhunter

by C S Marks

Amandir took advantage of his stunned confusion to launch his attack. Gorgon was hard put to defend himself from the fury that had welled in Amandir, and the lightning flashed in their clashing blades as they slashed at each other with all their skill. Amandir moved with impressive speed, like a deadly dancer. Even one such as Gorgon would have difficulty so long as Amandir’s strength held. They battled long upon the rocky pinnacle of the rim, each trying desperately to overcome the other.

  Then the two combatants broke apart, panting and glaring, for a few precious seconds. But as they prepared to engage again, Gorgon reached up with his left hand and removed his black helmet, releasing the silken flood of his golden hair, the gift of his mother, and Amandir’s grim, silent face broke into a cry of despair.

  The assault on the council-tent had been going well for Kharsh until now. Rogond, Fima, and Oriana had charged in from behind, felling the Ulcas as they turned in dismay. They now perceived that they were surrounded by Elves, men, and dwarves, and fought as only trapped Ulcas can. Kharsh remembered his purpose—to retrieve the head of Ri-Aruin, but as he drew closer to Wellyn, he realized that the Elf before him was not the Elven-king. With Ri-Aruin’s armor removed, it was apparent that Wellyn was too young and too slight of build. Kharsh could imagine the reaction of his commander to the news that the Elves had deceived him. Cursing, he dove under the loose silk of the tent wall and was gone. Gaelen caught sight of this and cried in dismay:

  "He stands at Gorgon’s right hand! We must not let him escape!" Yet her cry was in vain, for none could leave the battle to pursue him.

  Fima and Oriana had fallen; Rogond, Galador, Thorndil, Gaelen and Nelwyn stood now at bay. The Ulcas had recovered their wits and had rallied against them, and it looked as though the Company would meet with a grim fate, when at last the folk of the Greatwood Realm arrived, blowing their horns and filling their enemies with dread. Many of the Ulcas fled, others fell, and when the conflict in the council-tent finally ended no living enemy remained. Yet there was much of sorrow and grief to the Company.

  Galador knelt beside the body of Oriana, who had been cloven from behind even as she sent forth her last arrow. He closed her now-sightless eyes and bowed his head in silent grief for this fair child of Eádros, as Nelwyn stood by, for she did not understand what had occurred.

  Rogond was attending to Fima, who had taken a deadly blow that had literally crushed his iron-banded helm. Gaelen anxiously awaited news from the Ranger, who looked up at her in sorrow, shaking his head, and Gaelen knew that the old lore-master would be lost to them. Tears of rage and grief started in her eyes—this was not yet finished! She ran forward, grabbed Fima’s axe, which lay where he had dropped it, and ran from the tent as Rogond called after her.

  She caught sight of her quarry immediately. Through the clashing swords and whistling arrows of Ulcas and Elves, she made her way toward the rim of the hill, where Amandir and Gorgon were even now engaged in deadly conflict, their hearts full of vengeful hatred. Gorgon had removed his helmet; his long, golden hair was clearly visible, even through the wind and rain. She made her way toward him with all speed, though it was difficult, as the battle still raged around her.

  Amandir had been momentarily unmanned at the sight of Gorgon’s beautiful hair. He was overcome with grief in that moment for Brinneal, for he knew then that Gorgon truly had taken a part of her, that he was not begotten only of evil. Gorgon perceived that his opponent was weakened, and pressed him hard with both the long sword of Gelmyr, borne in his right hand, and Turantil, borne in his left. Amandir then came to himself, answering with his two curved blades. They were much like Turantil, but slightly longer and heavier, and were worthy weapons.

  Amandir fought beyond his strength, for he knew he would not survive this day, whereas Gorgon still held hope of it. He put forth all the power he could summon, and he wounded Gorgon thrice, but in the end his strength flagged, and he fell.

  Gorgon disarmed Amandir quickly with a sweeping stroke that knocked the one blade from his hand, and placed his foot upon Amandir’s other hand. Then Gorgon placed his other foot upon the neck of the struggling Elf, who knew in that moment that his time had come…and he had failed. Gorgon had no time to toy with his opponent, and he simply crushed the life from him, pausing long enough to snarl down at Amandir as the light faded from his eyes.

  Gaelen reached Amandir within moments, but she had come too late to aid him. She gazed into the depths of his unfocused but still-bright eyes, trying to contact him as his spirit fled his body. She took his hands in her own; they were warm and strong. Her spirit called to him, and he answered.

  I have failed. All of my purpose has been denied. He must not prevail. You must help me, Elf of the Greatwood, for in you there is the power to defeat him. You must see this done, or perish yourself. You know it! Farewell.

  Gaelen wept for him even as she rose to pursue her enemy, though she need not have cried for Amandir, for his spirit was free at last, and Brinneal awaited him.

  Gorgon had fled over the rim of the hill to the north. He was going to take the treacherous path through the ravine in hope of escaping the Elves, who even now might be in pursuit. Gaelen had leaped after him, and she would make great speed in this terrain, for she was agile and swift, and her heart burned in her breast. She knew that Amandir was right—she would surely perish if she was not free of Gorgon, and this knowledge gave wings to her pursuit.

  As Gorgon made his way with all speed down toward the ravine, he heard a familiar, unpleasant voice inside his mind. He could not see Gelmyr, but the words of his long-vanquished foe could not be ignored.

  It’s no use trying to run. She is swifter than you are, and she is gaining ground. You may as well turn and fight, though if she does not defeat you, her folk surely will, for they follow her in great numbers. You are undone, O Half-elven Horror.

  He laughed in an ill-natured manner. They deceived you so easily, and the She-elf was behind it all. You certainly underestimated her resolve and fortitude, didn’t you? They all had a hand in it, and you fell right into line. Things might have been worth saving had you not gone to Wrothgar, but now you must face Him even if you manage to evade the vengeance of the Elves, which I think unlikely. Ha! Your hour has come at last!

  This time Gorgon would not even reply to Gelmyr, but turned and looked back over his shoulder, trying to catch sight of Gaelen in pursuit.

  You may as well stand and fight, O Gullible Calamity, said Gelmyr. You cannot evade her—she will track you like a hound, and never relent. Stand and fight! At least when the folk of Ri-Aruin overtake you, they will remember your ferocity. For once, thought Gorgon, the Elf made some sense. He braced himself for the coming conflict, awaiting the arrival of Gaelen. She, at least, would not escape him.

  Rogond knelt beside Fima, despairing as he removed what remained of the dwarf ’s helmet, certain that he would find naught but ruin beneath it. To his surprise, though there was obviously some damage, all was not as he had thought. He was delighted as Fima stirred, moaned, and opened his eyes, which, though dazed and unfoccused, were reasonably clear. "How could you have survived such a blow?" Rogond muttered in wonderment. "Any man or Elf would have been crushed to pulp."

  Fima apparently heard him, for he stirred again and, to the amazement of Rogond, spoke in a halting, shaky voice: "As I am ever-proud to state, Rogond, I am neither man nor Elf. It takes a mightier blow to lay low the Children of Fior." With those words, he closed his eyes and spoke no more until the conflict had ended.

  Rogond patted Fima’s shoulder affectionately, then left him in the Wood-elves’ care and ran to aid his beloved, who even now approached the powerful, savage enemy that was lying in wait for her.

  He spotted the body of Amandir lying alone and forlorn upon the northern rim. The truth became known when he approached and looked upon Amandir closely, observing the manner of his death. There was only one being here large enough to crush the life from Amandir in this manner. Gorgon’s tracks led away fro
m the body, down toward the ravine. Gaelen’s tracks were present as well, and Rogond knew what he had to do. He whistled and called for Eros, and the great horse came to his aid. Rogond led Eros down the hillside toward the ravine, following the tracks of Gorgon and Gaelen, hoping that he would not be too late. She would never prevail alone.

  The storm was beginning to abate, but the rocky landscape still lit up with bright blue-white flashes of lightning, and the hillside still echoed with thunder. Gaelen slid precipitously on the wet stones as the rain still fell around her. She tracked her enemy now for what she hoped would be the last time. Every now and then she caught a brief sight of him, and she knew that the gap was closing, but suddenly the sign seemed to evaporate before her, and she lost the trail. She gave a cry of frustration, searching frantically for any evidence of his passing, and found none.

  "No!" she cried, "I will not lose you now!"

  That you most certainly will not, thought Gorgon, as he crouched upon the ledge above her, preparing to leap down and send her to her doom.

  Once the army of the Greatwood had arrived, Gorgon’s forces had been quickly overwhelmed. Standing tall upon the plateau, King Ri-Aruin surveyed the scene before him. There were very few of the enemy remaining; most had fled over the rim of the hill when he and his forces had arrived, and those that still fought would be dispatched quickly. He moved to the council-tent, where many of the wounded had been taken, and was met by Nelwyn, who gave him the news that his son had been injured. Ri-Aruin then rushed to the aid of Wellyn, who brightened when he beheld his father, though the King despaired at the pale, pain-weary face of his son.

  "What of Gorgon?" asked Wellyn. "Has he fallen before you? We must make certain that he is dead—I fear Gaelen has gone to engage him. You must find her and aid her!" He was so anxious that they all feared he would expend what little strength remained to him.

  Ri-Aruin reassured him. "It shall be so; do not fear. I will send our warriors immediately to locate her. Now you must rest and heal yourself." He examined the wound, his face grim but not grave. "This will mend. You have brought pride to our people and to me, my son. Rest well and with honor. I will inform you when Gaelen is found and when the creature lies dead. Rest, now."

  Wellyn did so, for he trusted his father. As he turned from his son, Ri-Aruin hoped that his people would in fact be able to aid Gaelen and ensure the death of Gorgon, for he would never betray such an important trust. He went forth to do all he was able to make it so.

  Nelwyn and Galador tended to Oriana’s body, carrying it from the mud and filth of the battle to place it reverently among the rest of the dead. Thorndil did not offer to aid them, for he knew this was a private matter, and he despaired as he surveyed the vast number of dead that lay now in this place. Of the original defense force of nearly a hundred Elves, fewer than twenty remained alive and with no serious hurt. Sixty-two had died. The toll on the enemy host had been greater. They had already counted several hundred bodies, and there were many more to be included. But Gorgon’s was not among them, and Thorndil hoped that he had not escaped. They would never lure him again, and he was far too dangerous an enemy to remain alive any longer.

  Thorndil looked around for Rogond, but did not find him, nor could he find Gaelen. Fima had been especially anxious and concerned for her. Thorndil smiled as he thought of the old dwarf, who had proved such a worthy warrior. All were relieved that he would live. But the absence of his two friends disturbed him, for he suspected they were now after Gorgon, and the success or failure of that confrontation would determine whether this Night of Reckoning had passed, or whether it had merely been delayed.

  Gaelen was terribly distressed, as she could find no sign of Gorgon’s trail. He could not evade her, not now! She took hold of herself, concentrating on sensing him. She closed her eyes, even as Gorgon crouched silently on the ledge above her, preparing to leap down and take her life. She perceived a faint but definite feeling—it was the same feeling that filled her when she stalked game and knew that her prey would be taken. It was a sort of impending triumph, knowing that a goal would be realized. In the case of the hunt, the goal was to bring meat to the tables of the Greatwood Elves. In this case, though….

  Gaelen came alive and drew her short sword just as Gorgon sprang upon her. She leaped from under his taut, powerful body just in time, as he roared in frustration at having missed her. She yelled back at him in a voice charged with ferocity.

  "Dark Horror! You cannot evade our vengeance! I have had all of you that I intend to bear, and your hour is NOW!" She flew at him, remembering Amandir’s plea that he not escape his doom.

  They fought for several minutes, each barely managing to thwart the other, Gorgon slashing at Gaelen with powerful strokes while she darted in and out, feinting and ducking. She was a superb in-fighter, and Gorgon soon grew weary of evading her; it was like trying to swat a very annoying and potentially lethal fly. He backed off for a moment, refocusing and collecting himself, allowing Gaelen a much- needed rest. She still grasped Fima’s axe in her left hand, and Gorgon recognized it. He smiled his normal, malicious smile.

  "The dwarf is dead, isn’t he? Otherwise you would not have his axe. I noticed you practicing with it; you have acquired some skill considering who and what you are. I thought about killing him in Cós-domhain, and I could easily have done so, but I was satiated. The Aridan provided plenty of sport, though he whimpered at the end like a child."

  Gaelen knew that Gorgon was trying to goad her into attacking before she was rested, and she smiled back at him. "I know the truth of Belegund and his valor, you pathetic creature! I loved Fima as a cherished friend, but I will not allow myself to grieve for him until you are dead. You think I am so easily gulled into attacking before I am ready. Why, you must think me as easily deceived as yourself! Which," she added, noting the dark look on his face, "I am not."

  She might not have chosen those words had she the time to consider the likely consequence of them. Gorgon would not stand to be insulted by one such as Gaelen! The fact that her words were true, that he had been deceived, angered him all the more.

  "Ready or not, your doom is at hand. Pathetic, am I? Tell me, Gaelen, do you still dream of Ri-Elathan? Was his death at the hands of the Black Flame difficult for you to bear? Is that why you weep when you are alone? Not so handsome at the end, I’ll warrant. He went up like a torch… did you know it? He screamed even as his skin blackened and his throat filled with fire. Dream of that, if you will!" The sound of her own name issuing from Gorgon’s lips in his hateful voice was loathsome enough to Gaelen, but at the mention of Ri-Elathan she could keep still no longer. She gripped Fima’s axe and her own blade tightly, knowing that despite her resolve, she would never prevail against this terrible foe, not if she faced him alone.

  As Gaelen prepared for a final stand against her enemy, Rogond urged Eros down the precarious descent into the dark ravine. Every so often a flash of lightning would illuminate the path before him, and he almost wished that it had not, for it might have been better for his nerves if he had not seen the nearly impossible difficulty of it. He would trust to Eros who, true to his name, flowed like water over the most treacherous terrain. Rogond’s worthy mount had never failed him, yet they came to a place in the path where Eros simply would not move forward. Rogond urged him, but the powerful horse shifted anxiously, unwilling to proceed.

  The next flash of lightning revealed the cause; a small tree had come uprooted above them and taken part of the path into the valley, bringing a number of large boulders with it. These now blocked the path, looming nearly five feet in height. The width of the pile was unknown.

  Rogond could not dismount from Eros to inspect it, as the path was too narrow. There was a precipitous drop on the right, and a sheer face covered with loose gravel on the left. They could not go around. It was too loose and unsteady for Rogond to climb on his own. Besides, if he abandoned Eros he would never make it to the ravine floor in time to aid Gaelen. He faced a dif
ficult choice: he could carefully turn Eros about and find another way down, which would take considerable time, or he could leap the obstacle and pray that there was a reasonable place to land on the other side. The ring of clashing blades in the valley below decided him. He leaned forward and spoke to Eros.

  "My friend, always have you borne me safely, though the way is treacherous. I ask you now to trust in me, for we must surmount this hurdle, though neither of us would deem it wise."

  Eros shook his head from side to side, his long mane and forelock sodden with rain. He backed obediently and carefully up the path until he stood far enough from the obstacle that he could gain speed in approaching it. Rogond reassured him, patting Eros’ neck, though he knew what he asked.

  "Please, Eros, Gaelen is in need and we have no time. Fly now, fly for her!"

  Eros shot forward, his powerful hindquarters engaging as he flew down toward the looming pile of boulders. Rogond urged him, yelling a battle cry; in truth he was trying to maintain his own courage. Eros checked back only once at the last, but he trusted Rogond, and taking one more powerful stride, he launched his golden body into the air with a grunt of effort, leaping into the dark and the rain. Rogond clung hard to Eros’ wet, black mane, trying not to unbalance him, but as they cleared the crest of the stone-pile his heart sank, for the path before them no longer existed for perhaps twenty feet. He knew that Eros would never be able to make such a distance, and that the fall into the ravine would probably kill them both.

  "Oh, Eros…sorry…" was all that he had the time to say.

  Below, in the dark deeps of the ravine, Gaelen heard Rogond’s battle cry as she strove against her mighty foe. Gorgon heard Gelmyr’s laughter echoing inside his mind as he swung at her. She was proving more difficult than he had anticipated, and the last thing he needed was that dead Elf distracting him.