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The Revenge of the Elves

Page 3

by Gary Alan Wassner


  Why are you not responding to me? Am I asking for something you can’t give? If so, tell me and I will pursue the subject no further, but do not shut me out like this! I can’t bear it. Her body ached. You lead me to the water but you do not allow me to drink. I am thirsty, Lilandre, so thirsty by now, and I am compelled to seek other sources of repletion.

  The silence lingered for what seemed an eternity. Then the tree’s comforting voice resounded in her head once more, but the subject was a different one.

  The fact that Sidra has now chosen to act is important. We do not know what has awoken her from her slumber or what is pressing her to exert her influence, though we surmise. Her behavior is a function of what is happening around us. We could no longer protect the shard and Premoran was unable to retrieve it when Mintar departed. Though Sidra could not enter the forbidden place herself, she assisted in her own way and for that we must be grateful. The shard is not yet safe, but there is much hope.

  Blodwyn pondered over the Lalas’ words. Sidra’s independence discomfited her. Her influence threatened the stability that existed when the trees were stronger and she resented it, she couldn’t help it. She was not ready to trust this woman. Who guides her, Lilandre? Is she acting alone? Blodwyn asked. Does she consult with Premoran?

  No. No alliance has been formed there, and he has been restrained of late, as you know. The only one of us she overtly has an affinity for is Promanthea’s Chosen, Robyn dar Tamarand, she replied. I also sense there is another to whom she is attached, though I cannot determine who it is.

  I should have suspected Robyn would be the one, Blodwyn said. He always kept to himself, walked his own path. He is a rebel himself. But was it not his tree she refused? A terrible thought struck her. Is he a rogue? Could it be? He is the heir’s guardian and teacher.

  A rogue Chosen! Fear leads you to strange places, my child. Such thoughts are disquieting. Yes, it was his Lalas she refused.

  ‘Tis odd they should have anything in common after that, no? Why does he cleave to her then? What does he know that we do not? Blodwyn asked. Could he have turned, she wondered. Could he have broken from us?

  You are suspicious of her power. He is not.

  I am suspicious of power whose origin I cannot determine. If there is another with whom she is allied, then I must try to find this person. Another? Who could it be? Who?

  It could be fruitful for us, Lilandre replied.

  Where is the map now?

  Another has it. Its fate is undetermined. We reach out to one another but the distances have become too great. The cloth twists around our outstretched limbs. A large bough quivered above.

  Another? Why? Did Oleander not instruct her to drop it down the well? Did she not convey that to those into whose care she entrusted it? It was not stolen from her, was it? Another uncertainty, another fear. Blodwyn could get no satisfaction today.

  No. Rest assured, it is in the hands of those to whom she willingly gave it. And she did inform them of Oleander’s instructions, Blodwyn. They are a unique pair though, the elf and this girl. They traveled to the dead city through the forbidden places after they left the sister. We had not anticipated this, as we had not anticipated Sidra’s intervention. But without it…. Lilandre paused a bit too long for Blodwyn’s comfort. We can do no more than await their actions. Much depends upon the decisions they will make.

  Everything was amiss. The disposition of the map, Sidra’s allegiance, Robyn’s loyalty, Lilandre’s sight. So much. So, so much. The disquiet her Lalas’ tone generated still endured, enhanced by her own suspicions and doubts. Things were slipping further and further out of her control.

  Do you doubt the task will be completed? she asked with apprehension.

  Yes, the great Lalas replied.

  Chapter Four

  “Keep your hoods up. It would not be to our advantage to be recognized here,” Premoran said, his voice weary from travel. “Let us gather what information we can.”

  After their escape from Sedahar, Premoran guided them further into the southern reaches, across the ravaged plains and decimated forests that ringed Colton’s territories. In their weakened state it was safer to keep to the shadows, and out of his brother’s reach. Knowing the Dark One was certain of their flight, they expected his fury would be unbridled, his rage multiplied a thousand times over by the forfeiture of the 11th shard. Colton never accepted his defeats humbly, and the price he levied upon those within his reach was greater than any pain he suffered. In this case, the cost for his victims to bear was mammoth.

  They emerged from the tangle of dead trees onto a narrow and little used roadway just as the sun set on the twentieth day after their departure. The sign post of the Wayward Traveler stood on the edge of a slight hill, illuminated from behind by the sun’s rays, and the stone bulk of the building just beyond shielded their approach. The three stories that rose from the squat foundation stood out upon the earth like a frightened animal caught in a bright moonbeam in the dark of the night. It was the only structure within miles and the meager bushes and thin growth surrounding it emphasized the desolation it exuded.

  Giles strode to the windowless door and banged upon it while the others remained hidden in the bushes. A metal plate slid to the side, and the big elf knew he was being scrutinized from behind it. Though the innkeeper must have been accustomed to harboring various visitors without asking questions in this lawless region, he opened the eyepiece circumspectly nonetheless.

  “We seek food and shelter for the night,” Giles said. “There are four of us. One room will be sufficient.”

  “How will you pay?” the man asked impatiently.

  “King’s gold,” Giles replied.

  “Pay me first,” he said, pushing the door open just enough to thrust a wrinkled and scarred palm out before him.

  Giles dropped a large coin into his hand. Bouncing it once in the air, he snatched it before it came to rest again. Then he closed his bony knuckles around it, thrust the entry wide and greeted them with a practically toothless smile. Biting the coin hard with the few rotted stumps that remained, he stuffed it into the recesses of his robe. Standing to the side, he peered out over his crooked nose and motioned for them to enter. He looked into the night and watched as the others walked from the edge of the woods toward the narrow steps leading to the doorway.

  “Welcome, my friends.” His voice was nasal and irritating. “I just happen to have a room for you folks.” He coughed long and hard. “My last group of guests left a few days ago. You can rest here comfortably, yes you can, and safely,” he pointed to an area which no doubt served as both the parlor and dining room. “I will tidy up your chamber. It won’t take me but a few minutes. Make yourselves at home in the meanwhile. Here…” Gathering his robe around his body with one arm, he leaned over and with the other, slid a wooden platter strewn with brown pieces of half-eaten food, out from under a piece of oily parchment. “Have some fruit. When I return I will take you upstairs. I wasn’t expecting any more visitors today,” he said, staring hard at each of them in turn with beady jet eyes. “Are you sure you desire only one room for all of you? The lady too?”

  “We’re sure, old man!” Giles snapped, eliciting a raised eyebrow and a knowing nod from the innkeeper as if they were sharing a secret.

  “As you wish then,” he replied. “King’s gold,” he said to himself while ascending the stairway to the second floor. “There’s quite a bit of this around these days.”

  Grimy plates and half empty mugs lay scattered about. Ashes from what must have been a dozen pipes were piled upon the wooden side tables and the room stank of grog and unwashed bodies. The walls were dirt speckled and the planks of the floor worn from years of traveler’s heavy boot heels.

  “We fit in quite well here,” Alemar said with a smirk. Pushing her thick cowl back, she peered at her face in a cracked mirror hanging from a pock marked wall. What would father think of me now, she wondered. Does he blame me for Kalon’s death? Emerial must. Sh
e never liked me to begin with.

  “Keep your head covered!” Premoran warned again, grumbling under his breath. “It would be imprudent to reveal ourselves to anyone just yet. When we’re locked behind our own doors we can afford to be less careful.”

  “After we check out the chamber thoroughly that is,” Giles said, his eyes darting from left to right.

  “That goes without saying,” Premoran agreed. “The Innkeeper is no simpleton. I’m sure he makes a tidy sum more by trading secrets than renting out these foul premises.”

  Alemar pulled the coarse wool shroud over her golden hair and tucked the wayward locks securely inside. “I wonder who was here before us,” she said, pushing the thoughts of Eleutheria and her family out of her head.

  “So do I. What do you think he meant by that remark?” Giles asked.

  “About the gold? The fact his previous guests paid him in a similar manner means they were not common folk, or they were thieves, take your pick,” Alemar replied. “I think he was letting us know he has information to trade. What do you suppose he thinks to gain from us?”

  “Knowledge of our presence alone would be quite valuable to some,” Teetoo replied.

  “We don’t look important,” Giles commented while removing his filthy cloak. The cowl of his tunic kept his head hidden. “The road’s taken its toll on me for sure.” His fingernails were cracked and his big hands were at least two shades browner than usual.

  “We can be certain he will use whatever means he has to discover who we are and why we’re here,” Premoran said. “Not many folk are traveling these roads of late. As Alemar so aptly put it, only scoundrels or crusaders would be found in this place.”

  “Who could he sell such knowledge to in this miserable land?” Alemar asked. “There are so few living things anywhere about.” The countryside was devastated. It used to be a fertile area before the fall of Gwendolen. Now it looked as though it had never lived. And I leave a trail of dead behind me everywhere I go, she thought.

  “A foolish question, Princess,” Premoran replied. “Precisely the type of people who would be traveling this forsaken piece of earth. And who said they must be living?”

  Alemar, like everyone else, heard the rumors in the streets of Pardatha about the grim spirits and hideous creatures roaming the plains on the outskirts of Sedahar. Frightening tales never bothered her before, but after escaping from the dungeons of Sedahar, nothing would surprise her again.

  “It won’t do us any good to speculate. Perhaps we can gain some information from him later,” Teetoo said.

  “He’s a crafty old man and a dangerous one. To have survived here as long as he has, it is unlikely he will give up anything he does not wish to, except of course for a price,” Premoran replied. “I suspect he will be more interested in us than we are in him. We must use that to our advantage.”

  They gathered around the wooden table in the corner of the darkened room. Premoran’s imprisonment had weakened him considerably and his recovery was not as swift as he hoped. In addition to the mantle of physical fatigue they carried upon their shoulders, Clovis’ death weighed just as heavily upon their hearts.

  Teetoo lit a half melted candle that sat in the middle of the table. Its light sent shadows dancing as it flickered before catching and burning. The four of them bent their tired heads inward as if on cue.

  “Did you look at the sky as we arrived here?” Giles asked.

  “It would have been hard not to,” Alemar replied. “It looked as if it was on fire.”

  “It was,” Premoran stated in a hushed voice. His hands moved in slow motion. “My brother is extracting his revenge upon the land. So predictable, his behavior, though the suffering he causes is always unique and terrible. I am alive and free and another of his Possessed is dead. He cannot contain his fury.”

  “Clovis was brave, was he not?” Alemar asked, her voice cracking as she spoke his name, the hurt still so raw. She missed him more than she could have imagined. When everyone else in Eleutheria had abandoned her and sided with her brother, only he and Giles remained steadfast. She fingered the birthmark behind her ear.

  “Indeed,” Teetoo said.

  Giles grunted his agreement. “He made the ultimate sacrifice for us without hesitation and with full knowledge.”

  Alemar brushed a lone tear from her cheek, She couldn’t help herself. The fatigue wreaked havoc on herself control. Clovis, Kalon. Who next?

  “What he did for me I will not soon forget,” Premoran said. His eyes suddenly clouded over and he started breathing erratically, in fits and spurts, pressing both hands hard against the table. Alemar and Giles jumped from their chairs. Premoran’s body jerked backward in his seat and he nearly toppled over. Teetoo leapt to his aid, assuming the worst, but Premoran raised his arm and kept him at bay. “Fear not for me,” he assured them, recovering his equilibrium once again. His pupils were as large as his eyes and he was clearly shaken. “I didn’t expect my brother to allow me to live after my capture. I thought he would kill me quickly, but he didn’t. He risked much, and I could not fathom why. Now I understand his need.” He paused. “It has happened. Another Lalas has departed.”

  Alemar turned to him. “Another Lalas?” Robyn’s? Could it be? Please no. Please! The air was stifling and she couldn’t breathe.

  “Mintar,” Premoran spoke the tree’s name.

  The pounding in Alemar’s ears almost obscured the words. It was not Promanthea. Not Robyn’s Lalas.

  “Carlisle was his Chosen. A good, good man,” Teetoo said. The Weloh’s eyes looked like luminescent, overfilled pools and when they glowed, he suffered.

  “We will miss them dearly. The earth will miss them dearly. They were a strong force that will not pass without consequences for us all,” Premoran remarked as the color returned to his cheeks.

  “That is the reason then?” Teetoo asked the wizard, staring at him intently. “He could not kill you and still he could not use you. So Clovis’ sacrifice is much more profound. He didn’t know how many he would save by his actions.”

  “Yes,” he replied, looking at Alemar and Giles, aware of their ignorance. “Mintar was the 11th tree to die since the dimming of the Gem. The Tomes refer to the 11th shard as the one crucial to the quest. Though the others are potent and vital, without this one, the search could not truly begin. My brother is unable to enter the forbidden places and to gather it himself, so he needed me to remain alive until the Lalas chose his moment to depart. I was to gather it for him from the heart of the great tree.” His eyebrows blended together at the bridge of his nose as his eyes darkened. The pain of his captivity was still fresh in his memory. “There are far too many pieces to this puzzle and even the most familiar ones don’t always fit where you might expect them to.”

  “What happened to the shard if Mintar is already dead? Is it safe?” Alemar asked. Robyn is safe at least. Thank the First. She felt guilty caring more about his fate than about this terrible loss, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “Another has retrieved it.” Premoran stared through the begrimed window like it was a clear plate of glass.

  “There are others who can do that? Approach a dead Lalas? I thought you said you alone….” Giles questioned.

  “Apparently there are others. Mintar’s song has been stilled. I hear it no longer and therefor the shard is not in the hollows. His melody was singular and there is no mistaking its absence from the harmony.” He cocked his head as if listening to a symphony only he could discern. “My brother does not have the shard. I would know if he did. We would all know.”

  “Who does then?” Alemar’s head throbbed. “If it’s so important, mustn’t we make sure it’s secure?” She shifted in her seat. He’s safe. But for how long? Robyn, Promanthea’s Chosen, was the only one with whom she ever shared her hopes. The only one who believed her mark was one of destiny. Giles was loyal and dear, but even he patronized her on this matter.

  “There is little we can do now, I’m afraid. T
he time for our intervention has passed, and you’ve played your part already, each of you,” Premoran said. “We must trust that the one who had the power to enter the forbidden place and plucked the shard from Mintar’s heart will protect it.”

  “Who else could do that?” Giles asked again.

  “One of great promise and great power,” the wizard replied. “One with whom the Drue are comfortable.” Before the others had a chance to question him further, he explained. “The Drue are the guardians of the forbidden places. They protect the hollows from intrusion and secure the sacred spots that were once the abodes of the Lalas. Without their cooperation, no one could take the shard from the dying tree. Not even I,” he continued.

  “I have heard of them, these Drue. The Tomes speak of them. But are they really capable of determining the worthiness of such a person?” Alemar asked. Her birthmark burned and she pulled a strand of hair over it, concealing it though Premoran was not even aware of its existence.

  “That is their purpose. But I fear now for the bearer of the shard. That person is in the gravest of danger!”

  “There must be something we can do to help her,” Teetoo said. He was all too familiar with this process, having accompanied Premoran as he performed the grueling task of retrieving the prior shards. “She is strong, but she is not schooled.”

  “She? You know who it is then?” Alemar gasped.

  “Yes,” they both replied in unison.

  Chapter Five

  “The battle will be here, Dustin! It is inevitable. For whatever reason, he has chosen Tamarand as his target. He failed at Pardatha and he failed at Seramour. We are next,” the regal, gray haired man said to his second in command.

  “So it seems, my Lord,” the young officer replied.

 

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