by C S Marks
“You must enlighten me, Hallagond,” said Fima. “Yet in Mountain-home the word is that things have improved.”
“And what fool brought that news?” growled Hallagond.
“That would be Lord Magra, who once ventured even as far as the eastern city of Tallanor,” said Fima. “I’m not certain I would classify him as a fool. He described a desolate and terrible place, as you suggest, yet it is not lethal to go there.”
“What interest would Lord Magra have in Tuathas?” asked Rogond.
“There were tales of men who still lived there,” said Fima. “We all wanted to know whether they were true. If any had survived the cataclysm, Magra wanted to find them and aid them. Surely no one would settle there by choice, and therefore it was thought that any men living there would be descended of the original stock…the followers of Duinar.”
“I’m guessing that he did not find anyone,” said Hallagond.
‘No, he didn’t,” said Fima. “Nor did he discover any recent evidence of them. However, I did learn many things of interest from him. Magra has the heart and soul of a warrior, but he has the mind of a lore-master.” This thought made Fima smile. “At any rate, what he described to me will be daunting, but not impassable. And Wrothgar would realize that it’s an excellent place to hide something, as few have ventured there. It’s not such a bad idea, Hallagond.”
“To get to Tuathas, you must pass near the Northern Mountains,” said Carmyn, who had studied the map. “Are they not perilous and full of enemies?”
“We will follow the River Eros,” said Gaelen. “We might draw within fifty miles of the foothills of the Northern Mountains, but even that does not concern me.”
“How could it not?” asked Estle. “You believe you are formidable, but there are enemies in the North that are beyond you.”
“None of it will make any difference,” said Nelwyn, whose blood was still up. “They will be taken long before they gain the lands near the Northern Mountains.” She shook her head. “This is a fool’s errand.”
“My cousin has forgotten something, as have the rest of you, apparently,” said Gaelen. “I do not fear attack from Wrothgar. He will wait until we have hidden the Stone to take it.”
“And you know this…how?” asked Hallagond, who thought Nelwyn’s assessment apt.
“Because I will let it be known to Gorgon Elfhunter that should I catch a whiff of an army or any sort of attempt to take the Stone, I will destroy it at once. A well-placed hammer-blow is all it would take. Wrothgar would regret the loss of the Stone more than anything, as he believes it will bring about his eventual return to power. Kotos would be cutting his own throat to risk having it destroyed. Gorgon will assure him that I mean what I say, because I do mean it. Any sort of attack, any sense whatsoever of enemies threatening, and I will shatter the ‘Stone.’ It would not be a bad thing for Wrothgar to believe it has been destroyed. He will not allow any of his minions to come near me in the meantime.”
“He will know it has not been destroyed,” said Arialde. “I should imagine that shattering the real Stone would be felt by every being of insight in Alterra. And Shandor’s spirit is most powerful…Wrothgar would know that his ancient enemy still dwells in this world.” She looked hard at Gaelen then. “Are you certain you can convey this message, little fire-spirit? Nelwyn’s concern is well-founded if you cannot.”
“Gorgon will hear me if the mirror is near,” said Gaelen. “That’s why Fima must go with us, for he carries the mirror, and Gorgon knows it. Even if the creature loses our trail, he will follow the mirror, for he can sense its presence, as can I. And so long as it exists, our thoughts may be shared, unless we guard them. We have both become very adept at guarding our thoughts, yet I can also make certain that Gorgon hears them, if I desire it.”
This seemed to satisfy Arialde, who turned back to the circle. “Who, then, shall go with Gaelen, and who shall go to Mountain-home? You must decide,” she said. “I will leave you to your circle, where all may speak their minds. Please inform me of your decisions once they have been made.” So saying, she swept from the clean, white chamber, leaving the Company to stare at one another in silence.
“I do not ask any of you save Fima to go with me,” said Gaelen after a long, awkward moment. “Once the ‘Stone’ has found its new resting place, I will be in peril. Gorgon is a wily adversary, and he will have laid his plans well. Kotos will not deny him his heart’s desire. They will take any who stand with me, as well.”
She stood before them, slight of stature but full of resolve and courage, a soul worthy of the ancient line of Kings. “Who wishes to witness the death of Gorgon Elfhunter?” she said.
“I wish that very much indeed,” said Rogond, rising to his feet. “Gorgon will expect me to accompany you. Besides, I want to visit the land of my forefathers. Despite my brother’s warning, I want to know what lies beneath the city of Tallasiar, where Duinar tried to stand against the Mountain.”
Hallagond shook his head, his light brown hair waving in a silken tangle.
“I know this will come as a great shock to everyone,” said Azori, who had not yet spoken, “but I do not wish to witness the death of anyone, particularly me.”
“Oh, yes, that is a shock,” said Estle. “You would allow me to walk into peril without you, then?” She smiled wickedly at him.
“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?” said Azori with a horrified expression.
“That depends on Hallagond,” Estle replied. Azori threw his head back, closed his eyes, and gave a deep, heart-felt groan.
“I still believe this course is ill-advised,” said Hallagond. “There will be nothing wholesome to eat or drink, and the air is full of ash and choking dust. The mountains are forever belching and spewing and rumbling. I tell you, this is a mistake.”
“Sounds a lot like the southern desert,” said Fima, who would not be dissuaded despite the prospect of choking dust.
“You have no idea,” said Hallagond. “At least in the desert there is beauty, and water may be found that is fit to drink. Imagine the worst hell you encountered in the desert, and then treble it!” He folded his arms and stood in defiance before Fima and Rogond, as though daring them to disagree.
“We do not have to make our choice now, at this moment,” said Gaelen. “As it stands, Rogond, Fima, and I will take the ‘Stone.’ If Estle, Hallagond, and Azori choose to go to Mountain-home with Nelwyn and Galador, then I will not blame them.” She turned to Nelwyn, who was on the verge of tears. “I know you don’t like having your course chosen for you by Arialde, yet she is right. We must do as Wrothgar expects.”
Nelwyn struggled to keep her voice calm. “Do you remember how you felt when you realized that Gorgon had used you to aid him in killing Elves? You wanted more than anything to exact vengeance upon his accursed black heart. You were only content because you were allowed to be instrumental in bringing about his downfall in the Barrens. There is more to this than my love for you. You honestly expect me to run to the safety of Mountain-home while you accomplish my vengeance for me?”
She looked around at her friends, who had not expected such words from her. “I am not naïve!” she nearly shouted. “Whatever imagined innocence made me the target of Lord Kotos’ invasion has been forever lost! If Orrion stood before me now, I would attempt to kill him with my bare hands. No one directs my fate. I make my own choices!” Her willowy frame was trembling, her elegant fingers clenched into fists. There was no doubt of her sincerity. She looked desperately at Gaelen, imploring her to see that Arialde’s declaration was wrong and unfair.
Instead, Gaelen spoke calm, clear words that could not be denied. “This is why we cannot take you with us. If Kotos catches any hint that you even know he exists, we are undone. If he is diverted from you, he will never know. If you go with me, he will not understand why, and he will question it. After all, my errand is a secret one, and Wrothgar would not know of it. There would be no reason for you to be compelled to acco
mpany me, for as long as I keep to secret paths I should be safe. Kotos will expect you to go to Mountain-home where, according to your ‘vision,’ the real danger lies. Therefore, for the sake of your vengeance, you and Galador must go to Mountain-home.”
“Then I am without hope,” said Nelwyn. “I would never prevent you from doing what you think is right, even if I thought it ill-advised. Do you realize how many times such a choice has been placed before me? Always, I have followed your wishes. The worst part is that I know you’re right this time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear.” She looked away from her friends. “This errand will mean your death, Gaelen. Gorgon is too great an enemy, and he will thrive in the poisoned darkness of Tuathas. I fear never to see you, or Fima, or Rogond again...and there is, apparently, nothing I can do about it.” She left the chamber then, her pain and frustration evident.
Galador looked at Gaelen and shook his head. “I wish there had been some other way,” he said, getting to his feet and following after his beloved. After he had gone, there was silence. Everyone was sorry for Nelwyn’s plight, for she had done nothing to earn it.
Not long after the departure of Nelwyn and Galador, Gaelen also left the council. She knew there would be many discussions and debates shared among her friends, especially Estle, Hallagond, and Azori. Gaelen’s thoughts were confused and conflicted as she sat alone among the cedars in the Courtyard of the Stone.
Despite Arialde’s having covered the Stone with the indigo cloth, Gaelen could still sense the sullen darkness within. Saying such words to Nelwyn had been one of the most difficult tasks she had ever faced, and now she was filled with regret. She could not deny that it would have been unwise to allow Nelwyn to accompany her. Yet now she had broken the heart of her dearest friend. Was there not a way to make things right?
Rogond found her soon after. She was startled, having been so deep in thought that she had not heard him approach. “Is that it?” he asked in a quiet voice full of reverence and awe. He had not been in the Courtyard before. “Is that the Stone?”
Gaelen nodded. “Yes, Thaylon, that is the Stone. Though it has gone dark, and I do not sense any spirit moving within it.”
Rogond shook his head and then sat beside Gaelen. It was a chilly night, and she drew against his side to warm herself. He knew that she was troubled, and he knew why, yet he would not ask her about it. She would get around to speaking of it on her own.
“This business with Nelwyn cannot stand,” she said at last. “I will not hurt my friend so. There must be another way, as Galador has suggested.”
“He has not suggested any other way,” said Rogond. “He only wished that it could be so. What other way could there be?”
“I was hoping you would think of something,” said Gaelen.
Rogond drew back from her just a little. “Why would you expect such a thing of me?” he asked. “You are the one with all the insight, remember?”
“Ah, but you are the clever, mortal one,” said Gaelen. “Your kind do not have ages to get over your disappointments, therefore you must be more adept at avoiding them.”
“If only that were true, but alas, our lives are fraught with disappointment,” said Rogond. “And if I were you, I would not go against the advice of the Lady. I have heard this tone from you before, Gaelen, and it worries me.”
“Stop worrying. I have no inspiration or plan to go against the Lady,” said Gaelen. “For now, you should sleep. All this worrying has worn you out. I will keep the watch, as always.”
“There is nothing to fear here in Tal-sithian,” said Rogond. “Yet you’re right…I am weary. My head is heavy and my eyes don’t want to stay open.”
He fell asleep a few moments later, resting his head on Gaelen’s shoulder. She took comfort in the deep, regular sound of his breathing, and it relaxed her. Her thoughts, which had been so muddled and confused, became clear. There was a way to aid Nelwyn, and it made a great deal of sense! Why had she not thought of it before? No matter. She would seek out her cousin as soon as was practical, and hope that Nelwyn would hear her plan.
Lore-master Fima sat alone in a dimly-lighted alcove of the underground library and wondered what his fate would be. He reflected upon the course his life had taken since his good friend Rogond had appeared in Mountain-home, and then he smiled. I have seen wonders that none of my race has ever beheld, and now I am about to embark on a journey that, while dangerous and difficult, will take me to a long-forgotten realm full of unknowns. The only problem is that I most likely won’t live to share the knowledge. He sighed and stroked his full, white beard with a thoughtful hand. While the idea of death doesn’t frighten me, it does imply a serious interruption of my work… For perhaps the second time in his long life, Fima realized that he would not be able to learn all that there was to know.
Carmyn appeared in the warm glow of the candle-light, a sheaf of parchments in her hand and a worried look upon her face. “Lore-master, I have come to counsel with you. Please forgive my intrusion but…there are things I must say.”
Fima gestured toward the chair opposite his, and Carmyn sat down, placing the parchments on the table. Fima saw that her eyes were red. Either she had been crying, or trying not to.
“Please, my friend, tell me what troubles you,” he said. “It’s plain to see that you’re unhappy. How can I aid you?”
Carmyn wrestled with her own thoughts for several moments, sitting silent and tense. At last she blurted out: “I intend to go with you to Tuathas. Yet I am afraid, and I’m ashamed of my fear.” She had declared her intention at last, and it seemed to aid her, for she visibly relaxed.
“Why would you choose such a course, Carmyn?” said Fima. “This journey will be dangerous, and you have very little stake in it…why would you walk into such peril?”
“I have followed you from Dûn Arian because you are the most fascinating and learned person I have ever met,” she replied. “Did you not know it? I wanted to be your apprentice and learn all you would teach me. Now I want to protect you, for you will need aid.” She paused again, allowing Fima to absorb all that he had heard. “I’m not adventurous by nature,” she said at last, “and I truly wanted to produce an accurate map of the Linnefionn. But I have already decided that I will go wherever you go, unless you forbid me.”
Fima had rarely been so touched. Carmyn’s genuine admiration and affection for him was moving, and he placed a gnarled, strong hand upon her arm. “I am honored,” he said. “Yet I fear that there is another destiny awaiting you. You are a scholar that few in the North can rival, and I have a very, very important task. I will entrust it to no other.”
Carmyn was on the verge of tears. “What…what task?” she asked in a halting voice.
In answer, Fima reached beneath the table and drew forth a scorched, battered leather case. Inside were his journals and parchments: everything he had recorded since his journey began. “This is very precious to me...”
He placed it on the table and then, with a small sigh of regret, he pushed it toward her. “You must take it to Mountain-home, and then you must tell Lady Ordath of Dûn Arian. You must provide as much history as you can. Alas, I did not have as much time to record it as I needed. And you must tell her that it was I who discovered these wonders and brought them back.”
“You must take them yourself,” said Carmyn, who was now weeping, for she understood his motivation. “You should not entrust them to me…what if I fail in my task and lose them? Why not take them after you return?”
Fima shook his head. “I do not expect to return. I am old, and my vigor is much diminished. You know, I used to think that I would live forever. Perhaps the influence of so much time among the Elves.” He smiled at her. “I have now finally realized that I am mortal and my life must end. This journey is important; it must be undertaken for the sake of all people of Light.”
“But, why? I still do not understand why,” said Carmyn. “Lord Kotos’ dark deception did not work. We have seen through it
. Wrothgar’s plan is foiled. Why do we care about luring him to Tuathas? Why can we not stay here, or go to Mountain-home together? Think of all you could teach me! I would serve you until the end of your days, many years hence.”
“Will you agree to do as I asked, and take my journals to Mountain-home?” said Fima, as though he had not heard. Carmyn rubbed her eyes with one hand and nodded. Fima patted her arm and squeezed it. “I would love to do as you suggest, and live out my days in comfort, but it’s too late for that. I have sworn to see to the death of Gorgon, and I cannot abandon Gaelen now. She needs me to play my part.” He looked hard at Carmyn. “I am not afraid. You should feel no shame in your own fear, for you have nearly a lifetime ahead of you. Mine is ending. I will go to a new beginning and learn the answers to some mysteries that have puzzled me for many a year. Take heart, my friend, and do make certain I am credited with my discoveries, won’t you? Through them I will be immortal, in a way.”
“My heart is broken,” said Carmyn, “and I will mourn if you do not return. Yet there is another way in which I may aid you. I notice that no one here possesses a detailed map of Tuathas. There is not even a good one in the library…I have searched it. I once copied such a map in Dûn Arian, and…and my memory is excellent, nearly unrivaled among the scholars.”
“Is it, indeed?” asked Fima, his blue eyes wide and sparkling again.
“I thought perhaps I could re-create the map from memory,” said Carmyn. “A map will be needed. And it would be better than nothing.”
“I think that’s the most hopeful idea I have heard since we arrived here,” said Fima. “Apart from Gaelen’s fletching arrows with Lord Kotos’ raven, that is. And you never know, my dear apprentice, perhaps I will return. I will do what I can to avoid disaster. It never pays to leave a Dwarf out of your calculations.” He patted her arm again and she smiled, though fresh tears threatened to come forth. “Now, my remarkable cartographer, let us set to work. I have never observed anyone with a perfect memory before.”