by C S Marks
“We will return and conduct you to the Lady when she requests it,” said their escorts. “In the meantime, our home is yours. Please avail yourselves of any hospitality we may provide.”
Carmyn, Estle, and Azori had not spoken a word since they had put ashore. The new-green beauty of Tal-sithian had mesmerized them. Estle, in particular, had done very little traveling in her life—the forests of Dûn Arian were the first she had ever seen—and the lush growth of the Island nearly overcame her senses. As much as she loved her beautiful desert, she could understand why a person would never leave such a magical place. She went in search of Nelwyn and found her lying in the grass by the veranda.
“Might I join you?”
“Of course,” said Nelwyn. “I’m always glad of your company, yet you seem troubled. Surely you are not uneasy in this place. We are well protected here, at least for now.”
“Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing,” said Estle. “I sense disquiet in you.”
Nelwyn looked up at the pale blue sky. “I must soon recount the tale of horror that was revealed to me, and I don’t know what our course will be afterward. I don’t even like to remember the vision, much less reveal it in detail. Yet I will do what I must…that’s why we’re here.”
“I’m surprised your cousin is not here to comfort you,” said Estle. “I haven’t seen her since the departure of our escorts.”
“Where is Rogond? She is most likely with him,” said Nelwyn, unaware that her cousin was engaged in a far more serious pursuit.
Gaelen had gone to the glade where the Stone of Léir was kept, telling herself that she wanted to make certain it was still there. In truth, she had gone there for reasons that not even she could understand. She was no longer so foolish as to gaze into the Stone without leave—her last experience had taught her that terrible lesson—but she crouched down upon the cold stone of the courtyard, blending at once into the fragrant cedars surrounding it. There she sat in long reflection, silent and mysterious as the Stone itself, trying to arrange her thoughts and feelings into some sort of sensible order.
“What is the meaning of all of this?” she whispered, knowing that Lord Shandor would not hear. “I hope you can aid us in telling what is true, and what is untrue. Kotos cannot prevail, not ever again. I pray that the Lady will hear me.” Her eyes grew grim and sad. “I pray that Nelwyn will understand.”
She sat in the glade for a long time, long enough that the Lady had dispatched messengers to locate her. At last she rose to her feet, knowing that she would gain no enlightenment in this place, and bowed to Lord Shandor before taking her leave. But she turned back toward the Stone, saying, “Such a pity that you have gone so deep within yourself. Your power could provide all the enlightenment we would need, if only you could find it again. Your enemy, Lord Kotos, still wields his power on the side of Darkness, yet you have turned to your own purposes, and you no longer defend what is good and true. The joy you find within the Stone is a lie—a shadow of the past—yet you place your own happiness above all else.” She shook her head. “I never thought I would find a common ground between the mightiest of the Asari and Gorgon Elfhunter, yet love has made you both bitter…you because of love lost, and Gorgon because of love he was never given. In this moment, though I despise him, I hold Gorgon less to blame for his own fate than I hold you.”
Shandor, of course, did not hear her, and would not have cared if he had.
Gaelen made her way back to the elegant marble dwelling upon the green hill. “There you are, at last!” said Rogond. “We have been waiting for you…we’ve been summoned. Where have you been?”
Before Gaelen could reply, Lady Arialde appeared in the doorway. “Please, come inside, all of you,” she said. “Come in and be welcome!”
The Lady’s well-appointed council-chambers were much larger than they appeared to be from without. Azori shook his head. No doubt he would see many unexplainable things in this strange place.
“Please be seated,” said Arialde, indicating the beautifully carved chairs that had been set for the council. They were elegant and ornate, but Fima, for one, found them uncomfortable. He tried not to growl about it.
Arialde lit several tall candles of creamy-white wax, and their glow cast warm light upon the marble walls. “This is a secret council,” she said. “Only the Company, Lord Airan, and I may remain.”
As her attendants bowed and took their leave, Galador whispered to Rogond. “There will be many concerned voices speculating about this council in various parts of the Lake-realm tonight…”
“First, allow me to extend the warmest welcome, and to express my delight at seeing you again,” said Arialde. “You have brought new friends with you, all stalwart and true, at least when they need to be.”
She lifted her eyebrows at Azori, the only career criminal in the group, and he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, appearing to stare with mild interest at one of the veins in the marble wall. He was having some difficulty meeting her gaze. He had never been in the presence of such a powerful being, and he had never cared for persons of authority. Here was a person of authority whom he could not disrespect, and he was unsure of how to react.
“I see some changes have been made since last we met, Rogond Thaylon,” Arialde continued. “It would seem that you have gained your heart’s desire. And I rejoice that Lore-master Fima is still with you, as I’m sure he has been most useful in your quest. Galador’s happiness and good humor have grown, and will continue to grow. I am also pleased to renew my acquaintance with our two hunter-scouts. Yet where is your friend Thorndil?”
Rogond rose to his feet. “I will tell our tale, but first allow me to introduce our new friends.” Carmyn, Azori, Estle, and Hallagond each rose and bowed in turn.
Arialde smiled at Hallagond. “So, more than one desire has been gained, Rogond,” she said. “Your brother cannot deny you. You have almost the same eyes…though his have seen sorrows you have not yet faced. Welcome, all of you. Now, gentle Thaylon, I would hear your tale.”
Rogond told of the Company’s adventures since they were last in Tal-sithian. Both Arialde and Lord Airan were intrigued, as were those in the Company who had not yet heard of the battle in the Barrens, or the quest for Hallagond. At last, Rogond spoke of the Scourge, of the dragon, and of the safeguarding of Dûn Arian.
When he told of the finding of Thorndil, Gaelen suddenly felt cold. She drew her knees up before her and placed her booted feet on the chair, wrapping both arms about her knees.
“So…the Elfhunter is still at large,” said Arialde in a soft and solemn voice. “That is ill news, but not unexpected. My condolences go out to you for the fate of your friend. Thorndil was a fine man, and he did not deserve such a terrible ending.”
“No one deserves it,” said Gaelen in a quiet voice. There was silence in the chamber as she looked up and noticed all eyes turned toward her. She had not meant to be heard.
She looked up at Arialde. “Thorndil should have been defending Dûn Bennas, drinking hot mead with the King’s guards and spending winter nights beside a warm fire. Yet he undertook a nearly impossible journey to follow his friends. I summoned Gorgon to follow me, and Thorndil walked right into his grasp. I have had some difficulty living with the result.”
Arialde nodded, for she understood Gaelen’s feeling. “Yet you should know that, had your friend Thorndil not made such a sacrifice, another would have been chosen. I should imagine that Gorgon might have crept into the City, taken one of your other friends, and done the same to him, or to her. Would you have felt any comfort in that? Gorgon is entirely to blame for his misdeeds, and your friend Thorndil was simply very, very unlucky. Remember, little fire-spirit, no one believes that Gorgon will be easily defeated. Your task has only begun, and more will die before it’s finished.”
By the time Rogond finished the tale, the shadows in the chamber had grown long with the onset of twilight.
Arialde rose to her feet again. “So…you are he
re to share a great vision, and you believe the fate of the Light hangs in the balance? Such revelations should be made when wits are sharp and all senses are in play. We should partake of a light meal first—a few of my guests are weary, I see.”
She looked over at Fima, who was nearly paralyzed from sitting in the hard, ill-proportioned chair. “Let me see what I can do to aid you,” she said. “Not all folk are made alike.” She summoned her attendants, dismissing the Company so that they could stretch their legs, while her folk added extra cushions for the seat and the back of Fima’s chair, setting a tall footstool before it. Now it would be quite comfortable.
Food had been set out, and soon most in the Company had refreshed themselves, yet none of the Elves would eat or drink. They were anticipating the recounting of Nelwyn’s vision, and they were ill-at-ease.
“I will never get through this,” said Nelwyn to Gaelen as they stood together in the doorway.
“You will,” Gaelen replied, “because you know you must.” She drew forth a small tin of dark honey from her vest and dipped two chunks of hard-crusted bread into it. “Here…eat this. It will lift your spirits,” she said.
“I cannot eat anything just now,” said Nelwyn.
“I insist! Trust me.”
At last Nelwyn gave in, and as the dark, sweet honey flowed through her with comforting familiarity, she did relax a little. Yet when the council reconvened, she doubted that any amount of honey could quell her fears.
The telling of the vision to the Lady was one of the hardest tasks Nelwyn had yet faced. She was afraid that her words would be discounted, or that she would be thought foolish and delusional. Yet this vision had been different from any other in her experience—more vivid, more terrifying, and seemingly more real than any in the past. There were no mists or uncertainties surrounding it. Nelwyn believed that everything she had seen would happen if nothing prevented it, and she bared the innermost regions of her mind and heart.
She got through her task, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders, leaving out no detail. By the time she had finished, she was flushed and exhausted. Her face then grew pale and she swayed as though she might sink down upon the marble floor. Galador leaped to her aid, guiding her back to sit beside him.
“Well done, beloved. Well done,” he said. “Your part in this has now been fulfilled. Rest now, and let the Lady consider all she has heard.” He looked up at Arialde’s shocked, troubled face. “By your leave, I will take Nelwyn from this place so that she might rest. This has been a difficult task for her.”
“No!” cried Nelwyn. “I won’t leave until the Lady tells me her thoughts. I have just revealed foreknowledge that predicts the utter downfall of the Light! These images were so horrible and real that I have been afraid to recall them, and they torment me. I have been chosen to receive this warning, and I want to know the meaning of it, and what will be done.” She looked into the wise, fathomless eyes of Arialde. “I…I want to know…everything you can tell me.”
She turned to Galador. “I cannot leave others to debate my visions. The Lady’s thoughts are more important to me than to anyone.”
But in this, Nelwyn was incorrect. Gaelen, Rogond, and Fima were also most anxious to hear Arialde’s response, for they, along with Galador, were reasonably certain of the sinister origin of Nelwyn’s “vision.”
“Regrettably, I shall need time to consider what I have heard,” said Arialde.
“Well, don’t consider for too long,” muttered Estle. “We made our way here so that this horror could be prevented, and we have taken quite enough time already. It may be that the Dark Armies are preparing even now. I do hope they will not launch their first attack on Mountain-home while you Elves sit here and consider things.”
“Surely you must know that such important matters cannot be decided immediately,” said Arialde. “Now, let me attend to Nelwyn’s request, won’t you?” Estle’s face flushed; she had not intended Arialde to hear her.
“It is clear from Nelwyn’s vision that Lord Wrothgar intends to take the Stone of Léir,” said the Lady. “Yet I have long known of his desire for it. We had not thought him strong enough to mount such an offensive. Why, now, should he choose to act?”
“He has deceived everyone into thinking he resides in the Fell-ruin,” said Nelwyn. “Yet we believe he dwells in a terrible place known as Tûr Dorcha, in the south of the Darkmere. He would have you expect that he attacks from the north, and he knows you will send forces to aid Mountain-home. The Stone will reveal it—yet Lord Shandor will not uncover the most important part of Wrothgar’s plan until too late. You will be overtaken, and the Stone will fall into his hands.”
“Our course would seem obvious, then,” said Lord Airan. “We must move the Stone to another place, where Lord Wrothgar will not discover it. It is lamentable that he knows of its whereabouts. How did he come by such knowledge, I wonder?”
“I believe he learned many things from Gorgon Elfhunter,” said Gaelen. “Because I know of the Stone, so also does Gorgon, and now, regrettably, so does Wrothgar. I’m sorry to have been his vessel, more than any of you will ever comprehend.”
Her voice was clear and strong, and there was no quaver of sorrow, no trepidation to be heard. “Despite Nelwyn’s wishes, I must now urge you, Lady, to consider all things carefully before you decide your course. I believe it may not be as clear as might first be thought.” Her bright eyes met those of the Lady, who perceived the difference in them.
You are stronger than when last we met, Gaelen Taldin. Your spirit is whole at last. A good thing, for I fear you will have great need of it. We shall counsel together, you and I.
Arialde stood tall upon her dais, a shining beacon of silver in the ever-darkening room, and spread both hands. Her expression was contemplative, eyes downcast. The candles flickered, sputtered, and went out, yet a divine glow emanated from her, bathing the room in soft, grey light. When at last she lifted her gaze, her inner light flared bright white for a moment so that she was difficult to look upon. The candles re-kindled and their warm golden light returned.
“Nelwyn has given us many things to consider, and this we shall do. I will consult the Stone and see what enlightenment it might provide—at a time of my own choosing. In the meantime, do not fear. No armies will be sent to Mountain-home as yet. The plan that was revealed in your vision will not succeed.”
“But what if Wrothgar still tries to take the Stone? Can the Elves of Tal-sithian repel a full-scale attack?” asked Hallagond.
“I will not debate these matters now,” said Arialde. “There are things that I must learn. Go now and replenish yourselves. We will meet again very soon. In the meantime, please avail yourselves of all hospitality. Rest well.”
Her light faded as the candles went out once more. By the time Rogond had lit them again, the Lord and Lady were gone. Yet one more message had been revealed to Gaelen’s inner sight the Lady would meet her in the Courtyard of the Stone long before the sun rose in the morning.
Nelwyn confronted Gaelen as soon as they were out of sight of the Arialde’s dwelling-place. “I saw you lock eyes with the Lady just before she left, and I saw you react to her. She spoke to you—I know it! What did she say?”
Gaelen looked away; she was not yet ready to deal with Nelwyn, and she could not lie to her. This only served to agitate Nelwyn further. “It’s not enough that you called the clarity of my foresight into question, but now you conspire with Arialde to keep things from me? Why, in the name of heaven?”
Nelwyn’s words stung Gaelen’s ears, and she did not know how to respond to them. She would not lie to Nelwyn, yet she could not yet reveal the truth.
“You will need to trust me,” was all that she could say at first. She looked up at Nelwyn, whose expression was torn, as she was both hurt and angry. “Remember that we have always protected each other, and that I love you, and trust that my motives are true. I cannot tell you what troubles me, only that the Lady sensed it. She has revealed nothing
to me as yet. Please, Nelwyn, you must trust in me. I swear that I will reveal everything as soon as I can. For the moment, I cannot.”
Nelwyn’s eyes now held confusion as well as hurt. “I don’t understand,” she said. “If you held doubts, why have you kept them from me? You have never kept anything of importance from me before.”
Gaelen sighed. “Do you love me, Nelwyn?”
“Such a question need never be asked, and you know it.”
“Then trust me.”
After a moment’s pause, Nelwyn spoke again. “Very well, I will trust you. But I pray that you will enlighten me…I’m afraid.” Then she turned and went in search of Galador.
Lord of Light help us all if I’m wrong, thought Gaelen, as she made her way to the Courtyard of the Stone.
No fire-flies hovered about the Stone of Léir that night. Lady Ariade stood alone before the crystal, which she had covered with a cloth of dark indigo. The moment Gaelen entered the Courtyard, a thick mist surrounded it that would allow no one else to intrude.
“We are alone, Gaelen, and none can see us or hear us,” said Arialde. “Therefore, you may say whatever you will. Rest assured that I will carry no tales from this place.” Gaelen nodded as she drew nearer to the Stone and to the Lady. Arialde looked deep into her bright eyes. “I see the lost King in your gaze,” she said with a warm and gentle smile. “That is the source of your strength. You carry a part of him, and that part is strong here. He has mended your spirit. How did that come to pass, if I may ask?”
Gaelen did not answer at once, as the details of that happening were both terrifying and intimate. “We did not come here to speak of my spirit, Lady,” she said at last.