“What does Chief Galhalga have to say?” Barlo asked.
“My uncle has not returned to our halls.”
Barlo frowned. “It seems there is much to discuss.”
Lorugo looked around. “That is true, but not out here in the open. I have already left the door open too long. Come inside before unfriendly eyes find us here.” He stepped back to allow them to climb down. His eyes widened in fright at the sight of Sinstari.
“Don’t worry,” Barlo said. “He’s a friend.”
Lorugo did not look convinced, but allowed the cat to jump through the opening. Lorugo climbed down last, closing and locking the door above him.
They were back in the guardroom below the surface. The two guards nodded as Lorugo and the others passed. Lorugo waited until they were in the tunnels leading back to Dwarfhaven before speaking.
“They think I was ordered to let you in,” he said, switching back to Common. “Much has happened since you left. I should tell you now before we get back to the city. All the dwarves left are gathered there, arguing about you. They will not be happy when we show up.”
Barlo was right at home in the small tunnel, but Iarion had already broken out in a sweat. It would do the elf good to take his mind off their current surroundings.
“Go ahead,” Barlo said. “We haven’t had much in the way of news lately.”
“After the battle for Belierumar, the dark army waited in the Southern Passage, licking their wounds. They eventually got themselves organized and made another attempt. Many of our side died defending the city, but they managed to hold it.
“After several days of a stalemate, two Forsworn Ones arrived. Rather than taking the city, as we expected, they led their army away, heading south. Once we realized they were bypassing Belierumar for Melaquenya, the city was abandoned to try to block them at the Narrow Pass. That was several days ago. We have had no word since. We do not know who holds the city now.” A long silence followed Lorugo’s words.
“We are running out of time,” Iarion said. “Those Forsworn Ones must know we have the Stariquenya. They are trying to cut us off from Melaquenya.”
“You should rest before moving on,” Lorugo said. “I can find a place to hide you while the others are still arguing.”
“We have rested enough already,” Iarion said, shaking his head. Barlo’s spirits sank at the elf’s words. He was missing his own halls and was hoping for some dwarven hospitality, but he knew Iarion was right. He stifled a sigh.
“Where will you go?” Lorugo asked.
“We must avoid the dark army at all costs,” Iarion said. “If only the Rasadar had helped us. We would be at Melaquenya by now.” Iarion’s fists were clenched in frustration. “We will travel directly south from here toward Melaralva. Perhaps my people will have more news.”
“Do you need any supplies?”
“No, we are still well stocked,” Iarion said.
“Very good.” Lorugo nodded. “We are about to enter the main hallway now. We will need to use it for a few moments until I can take you down a side passage. I do not know how inconspicuous we can make you, but most of the dwarves are probably still arguing in the great hall. You should raise your hoods and stick to the shadows behind me.” He flashed a nervous look at Sinstari. “It will be better for you if the others do not know you were here until you have left, or they will delay you.”
Iarion took a moment to whisper some words in Elvish to the cat before raising his hood. Sinstari padded over to the shadows along the wall. Dwarfhaven was only half-lit at this time of night. Sinstari melded into the darkness.
Once both Barlo and Iarion raised their hoods, Lorugo led them onward. The city felt empty. Many dwarves had already gone off to join the war, leaving the young and the elderly behind. They only came across a few younger dwarves along the way. They caught one look of warning from Lorugo and scurried past without comment.
Passing the audience hall was the most nerve-racking. Their path along the main hall went right past it. Barlo could hear the older dwarves arguing in their own tongue. They were still debating whether to open their secret door.
Barlo shook his head in disbelief. Then he remembered these were the dwarves who had doomed their clans for giving refuge to Hilgur. They had only just rejoined the rest of Lasniniar from their resulting exile. Barlo supposed he couldn’t blame them for wanting to be cautious.
They traveled the main hall without incident. Shortly after they passed the audience hall, Lorugo led them through a series of side streets. They encountered no one.
With several winding turns, they finally reached the front gate. The guards seemed surprised to see Lorugo at such a late hour with strangers in tow, but they were both young and gave way to the slightly older dwarf without question. They were so busy staring at Barlo and Iarion’s cloaked forms, Sinstari passed unnoticed.
“May the First Father watch over you on your journey,” Lorugo said once they were outside the city.
“Thank you for helping us,” Barlo said. “Maybe you should come with us. The cost of your aid might be high. The Earth Elves at Melaralva would welcome you. If you wanted, I could also send word to Dwarvenhome for them to take you in there.”
“Thank you, but no.” Lorugo shook his head. “My uncle wants me here. I think he knew I might have to do some things the others would not like. He told me if I ever saw any of your group again, I was to help you without question. He must have known what would happen with only the young and the elderly left behind. I will suffer the consequences. It is the Dwarfhaven way.” He gave them a rueful smile.
“Thank you, Lorugo.” Iarion clasped the dwarf’s arm. “You have helped us when others have turned us away. What you have done for us could very well change the fate of Lasniniar.” The young dwarf blushed.
“I will never hear anyone call your people traitors again!” Barlo vowed, feeling shame for all the times he had called them such himself.
Lorugo waved before turning toward home. Now it was just the two of them once more. Well, the three of them, Barlo supposed, if you counted the cat.
Midnight was approaching. The sky was clear. It was good to be in a place where you could see everything around you and not walk around in circles—as much as a dwarf could see in the dark, anyway. But the air was still cool for so early in the season. Barlo didn’t like to think about what that might mean.
Iarion started walking south without hesitation.
“We do not stop until we reach Melaralva,” he said. “I don’t want to be caught out here in the open. If we keep going all through the night, we should get there by midmorning.”
Barlo stifled a sigh. Iarion had become increasingly quiet and distant as they traveled. He didn’t like it one bit. Their quest had almost become an obsession for him.
“Maybe we can find someone else at Melaralva who can take the Stariquenya the rest of the way,” the dwarf said, trying to sound casual.
Iarion stopped and gave him a confused look. “What are you talking about? I’m going to take it to Melaquenya. This is my quest.”
“Iarion, you heard what Lorugo said. The dark army has moved south. They could have Melaquenya surrounded by now! We have already brought the Stariquenya this far. Maybe it’s time for someone else to take it from here. It has to be an elf, so maybe someone from Melaralva will volunteer.”
“This is my quest! My task.” Iarion’s strange eyes flashed in the darkness. Barlo took a step back before standing his ground.
“And it’s eating you alive! You’ve been in your own world almost since we began this journey. You haven’t even noticed how Linwyn is completely infatuated with you. I don’t like seeing you like this, Iarion. I feel like I’m losing my best friend.”
Iarion frowned and let out a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry if I have been distant lately. It’s just that we’re getting so close. I can’t let anyone else do this for me. It’s too important. Not just to the rest of Lasniniar, but to me.
“This cou
ld be my one chance to find my purpose. It’s something I have spent thousands of years searching for. I can’t leave it in someone else’s hands. I know it will be dangerous. I know I might be captured or killed, but I have to try. You don’t have to come with me. In fact, it would make me feel better knowing you are safe.”
“Well, don’t plan on feeling better anytime soon,” Barlo said. “You know if you’re going, I’m coming with you. You keep giving me the same choice, Iarion. I keep giving you the same answer. So when are you going to stop asking?”
Iarion gave him a sad smile. “I only ask because as much as I want to know you are safe, I also want you by my side. I’m traveling a dark road. I don’t know if I can do it alone. I just don’t want my selfishness to get you killed. I keep asking you so I can satisfy my conscience.”
“Well I’m not going to leave you, so consider the matter settled.” Barlo pushed the words past a lump in his throat.
“And I am glad for it.” Iarion placed a hand on Barlo’s shoulder. “But know that as we get closer, I will probably become an even less pleasant traveling companion. The Stariquenya yearns to be returned to the rest of the Quenya. It’s pulling me, growing in my thoughts.”
“Then you definitely need me around to keep you sane,” Barlo said. “Now let’s get going.” They began to walk once more.
Iarion turned to Barlo with a curious expression. “So what was that about Linwyn being infatuated with me?”
Barlo sighed, shook his head, and began to explain.
– Chapter Forty-Four –
Blood Ties
Golaron and Linwyn found themselves facing perhaps fifty men with their swords and bows drawn. For a moment, Golaron was unsure what to think. These were his own people. One stepped forward and looked the twins over.
“It’s really them!” the man cried. “Lower your weapons!” The others hastened to obey. Golaron let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.
“My lord, my lady, we are happy for your return.” The man held his fist over his heart and bowed. He wore the cloak and armor of the city guard. “I apologize for the poor welcome, but we couldn’t be certain this wasn’t a trick of the enemy.”
“We understand,” Linwyn said. “But where is the rest of the army? What has passed since we left?”
The guard’s face went from relieved to somber. Golaron’s gaze fell upon black armbands worn by each soldier. A heavy foreboding fell over him.
“I am sorry to be the one to give you these tidings,” the guard said. “It is with great sorrow I must tell you Lord Eranander has rejoined the Quenya.”
The words seemed to hit Linwyn like a physical blow. Her blue eyes glazed over. Golaron put an arm around her in support.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
“After you left, the dark army stayed in the Southern Passage, waiting for something. We tried to prepare, knowing they would be back. Then the two Forsworn Ones returned. They were mounted on new drakes. They led their army out of the passage, heading toward the city. We braced ourselves to meet them, but they swept right past us, heading for the Narrow Pass.
“Your father knew what they were about and ordered the majority of the army to try to stop them. The elf and dwarf armies went with them. That was several days ago. Only the city watch was left behind. Lord Eranander led the army into battle himself. He took an arrow to the gut during the attack. He was brought here. The healers tried to save him, but after several days, he finally died. I am sorry.”
“The news has reached the dark army that we have taken the Stariquenya,” Lysandir said. “They left the city behind to try to keep Iarion from reaching Melaquenya. Once Saviadro gathers all his forces here in the midlands, he will strike and try to claim the Quenya.”
“There is one more thing.” The guard seemed hesitant to speak. Golaron gestured for him to continue. “Before he died, your father… He named Linwyn his sole heir.”
Golaron recoiled in shock. His father’s feelings for him were no secret, but Golaron never thought he would go against their mother’s dying wish.
Linwyn seemed to come out of her haze. “What?” She shook her head in denial. “But we were supposed to rule together!”
“I am sorry,” the guard said. “He had the appropriate papers drawn up and they were all properly witnessed. You are now Ruling Lady of Belierumar.”
Linwyn started to protest, but Golaron silenced her. “It’s all right. I’m fine. You are the better leader anyway.”
“But I need you!” She turned to face him, her eyes full of pain.
“I’m still here.” Golaron met her gaze. Relief flooded her features. Golaron knew she would be unable to deal with the details of their father’s death. He turned back to the guard. “Has his body been prepared?”
“The embalmers finished a few days ago. We have only waited for your return.”
“Have the funeral prepared for tomorrow,” Golaron said. “After that, we will have to plan our next move. We have also brought an army from the north. We need to make them welcome.” The guard looked to Linwyn, who nodded her agreement.
The guard bowed. “It shall be done.”
It was strange to be back in Belierumar without his father’s presence. Every time Golaron walked the hallways of the tower, he half expected Lord Eranander to appear with some bitter remark about his son’s existence. In a way, Golaron missed him. His father was the only parent he had ever known.
Linwyn was devastated. Despite Golaron’s protests, she had spent the night standing vigil over their father’s body. She and Eranander had always shared a special bond Golaron had never been a part of.
Now they were at his funeral. Everyone left in the city had come. Linwyn stood before the crowd, preparing to give their father’s eulogy. A somber hush fell over the crowd as they waited.
For once, Linwyn wore a gown. It was an elegant black silk garment that had been their mother’s. It made her look young and lost. Tears streamed down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She took a deep breath and tried again without success. She threw a desperate glance in Golaron’s direction.
Golaron stifled a sigh and stood, walking over to join his twin. They had both agreed she would be the best one to speak about their father. But he could not leave her to stand alone at a time like this. He stood beside her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. Linwyn gave him a look of gratitude, but shook her head. A moment of wordless communication passed between them where she silently asked him to say what she could not.
Golaron bit back another sigh and looked out at the waiting crowd. What could he possibly say about their father that these people would want to hear?
His eyes found Silvaranwyn’s and he felt his soul laid bare. She knew the pain he was feeling and what it would cost him to speak. Yet somehow, it was as though she gave him the strength to do what was necessary.
Golaron took a deep breath and began. “Our father was a good man…”
The rest of the day passed in a dream-like state for Golaron. He knew he had spoken well at the funeral, but he was unable to recall anything he had said.
Every time Linwyn faltered, he was there to lend his support. They saw their father’s body interred in the family crypt below the tower beside their mother. Perhaps now he would be at peace.
The remainder of the day was spent in mourning and remembrance. The moments seemed to crawl by. Every time Golaron felt himself weakening under the strain, he looked to Silvaranwyn for support.
When the day finally inched to its conclusion, everyone left Golaron and his sister to themselves in their family chambers. Golaron kicked off his boots and let out the frustrated sigh he had been holding in all day as he sat next to Linwyn.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice raw. “For everything. I know how hard it must have been for you.”
“I did it for you.” Golaron squeezed his sister’s hand. He hated to see her cry. Before they had committed to this quest
, he was the only person who had ever witnessed her tears. So much had changed.
“I know. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
“Linwyn, I understand why you fell apart today, but now you have to be strong. As of tomorrow, you will be the Lady of Belierumar.”
“I still can’t believe he went against our mother’s wishes. You should be ruling at my side. That was the way it was supposed to be.”
“We all knew how he felt about me. It’s probably better this way. You were always the leader. I will still be your shadow.” Linwyn gave a tremulous smile. It was an ongoing joke between them.
“Are you certain you still want to lead the army?” he asked. “You are Ruling Lady now. You are entitled to stay here and send generals in your stead.”
Linwyn passed a hand over her eyes. “I must go.”
“For Iarion.”
“Can you understand?” She gave him a pained look. “I know it probably won’t change anything, but I need to go.” She sighed, closing her eyes.
Although Golaron wanted to spare his sister whatever pain he could, he knew this was beyond him now. He answered with a sigh of his own. “I understand.”
“What would I do without you?” she asked.
“You’d manage.” Golaron smiled in return. “Light can exist without shadow. The real question is what I would do without you.” Linwyn yawned and rubbed at her eyes. “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, especially for you.” He helped his sister to her feet.
Linwyn wrapped him in a weary embrace. “Say what you will, but I still don’t want to find out what life would be like without you. You’re all I have. Promise you’ll never leave me.”
“I promise.”
The coronation ceremony was brief. Linwyn had managed to push her grief aside. There were no signs of the tears she had shed the day before. The people cheered when she took her place on their father’s throne. She was well loved. Golaron remained on the lesser throne next to the one his sister had once occupied. He felt a strange relief knowing he would not rule.
Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) Page 32