Ravenshade

by C S Marks

  The journey had not been an easy one for Wrothgar’s group of Ulcas. They had run afoul of a pair of hill-trolls, and as a result there were five fewer Ulcas in pursuit. The ones who remained were restive and unhappy; they did not like being asked to remain vulnerable for so many weeks, to no apparent end. They had left Tûr Dorcha, having been called to a great mission by Lord Wrothgar, and they were still on the trail with their thirst for blood and violence unsatisfied. At least they were not weary, for the pace had been slower than expected. And they were comfortable in the knowledge that they still greatly outnumbered the Elves.

  Toran and Eros gave the call at almost precisely the same time, looking out toward the horizon. They had both been alert for several minutes when they announced the arrival of friends. Gaelen could not have imagined many sights that were more welcome than the one that now appeared from the south. Four mounted riders and what looked like a hundred foot-soldiers bearing the banner of the Greatwood Realm were making their way northward. Eros called again, and Réalta answered.

  Rogond and Fima got to their feet in surprise as Gaelen whistled for Toran. She vaulted onto his back—in her excited state she needed no stone to stand on—and cantered out to meet Nelwyn and company, who had found her at last!

  Rogond called for her to wait, but she pretended to not hear him. So much for not calling attention to ourselves, he thought, whistling for Eros.

  “Rogond, do not pursue her as yet,” said Fima. “You must allow her time to make up some excuse as to why she has not told us what she has been planning all along.”

  “You think this is amusing?” said Rogond, who was surprised and dismayed that Gaelen had not told him of her plans. “I didn’t think we held back secrets from each other—this shows a lack of trust, and it hurts my soul. It makes me angry, in fact! It’s…it’s like a betrayal.”

  “Calm yourself. There are other reasons,” said Fima. “Gaelen trusts you utterly. I will place a wager right now that she will have a reason other than lack of trust. Now you must trust me. Stay here and wait for Gaelen. She will explain herself.” He settled back against his pack in total nonchalance. Rogond muttered something about the dwarf’s maddening lack of insecurity, while clenching both hands in suppressed outrage.

  “There is Gaelen!” said Nelwyn. “Let’s ride forth and meet her.” Without waiting for a reply from Galador, she urged Gryffa into a canter, and the two cousins soon were reunited. They slid down from their horses and stood facing one another.

  “Well, I’m glad to see you finally made it,” said Gaelen, pretending that she was not at all excited about it.

  “Well, you know,” said Nelwyn, “it wasn’t such an important task that I felt the urge to hurry, after all.”

  Gaelen yawned. “Yes, well, since you’re here, I suppose I am glad to see you. Though I was doing just fine with my escort of Elves…you needn’t have brought so many from the Greatwood. I suppose now we’ll need to slow our progress just to take the time to feed them.”

  “What escort?” asked Nelwyn, pretending that she had not seen signs of them. “Well fine, then, since you are already well protected, I suppose I might as well go home.” The thought of it brought tears to her eyes. “Oh…Gaelen, things are happening at home…bad things. The Brunner Ia is overtaken now and is not safe. Terrible creatures are migrating up the river as well. I’m so glad to have found you alive and whole. This thing we are doing…we must make certain it is done!”

  Gaelen nodded, tears welling in her eyes also. The two Elves then embraced, all feigning of indifference discarded. “It will be done, Nelwyn,” said Gaelen in a soft voice that left no doubt in either of their minds. They broke their embrace and wiped the tears from their faces. “The greatest task I face at present is explaining this meeting to Rogond,” said Gaelen.

  “What…he did not know of it?” asked Nelwyn in disbelief.

  “If he knew of it, then I would not need to explain it to him now, would I?” said Gaelen.

  “Well, why ever did you not tell him earlier?” asked Nelwyn, who knew that Gaelen did not usually keep things from Rogond.

  “Because he would have done nothing but worry about the wisdom of it,” said Gaelen. “The plan was already set into motion; there was nothing to be done about it. Still, he would have fretted and mulled over and thought about and worried. I wanted to save him some grey hairs.”

  “His hair will start falling out if he thinks you do not trust him,” said Galador, who had ridden up behind them and had overheard. “If I were you, I would be crafting a mighty apology about now.”

  “Rogond will understand…he always does.”

  “Well, let’s not delay in easing his mind then,” said Galador.

  “I did not tell you of my plan to rejoin Gaelen until the time came to leave, remember?” said Nelwyn to Galador as they rode together toward the encampment.

  “Yes, and I was not happy about it, remember?” said Galador.

  “Yes, but you got over it. Rogond will, too.”

  As it happened, Nelwyn’s assessment of Rogond’s response was perhaps a little optimistic. He listened to Gaelen’s shaky explanation and to her mighty apology, and then barely spoke to her for three days. By the end of the third day she was so miserable that he took pity on her.

  “Do you see now how much it hurts when you keep things from me?” he said.

  Gaelen did. Yet she could not resist one final comment.

  “Plans were made in Tal-sithian by some, and they were changed in Tal-sithian by others. As a result, you and I are much more likely to survive the trials to come. I promise that I will not change plans again without consulting you unless I have no other choice. But I’m afraid you will have to live with things as they are, beloved, and I most humbly beg your pardon.”

  “Can’t you just say, ‘I’m sorry, Rogond,’ and mean it?”

  “I’m sorry, Rogond. And I do mean it.”

  “All right, then. I forgive you,” said Rogond. “But I will hold you to that promise!”

  There were no more hunting forays for Gorgon, as the Elves of Tal-sithian had combined with the Elves of the Greatwood, and all now traveled together. The Elves of Tal-sithian, who had journeyed long and suffered great loss, were given the choice to return home. Yet none took it. They were more determined than ever to assist in the death of Gorgon, and were not about to be overshadowed by Wood-elves.

  Rogond understood the real motive for the reunion with Nelwyn; Gaelen had made this plan to save her friend’s heart from despair and humiliation. Yet now there was no hope whatsoever of not calling attention to themselves, a fact that Rogond pointed out in the next council-meeting with Fima, Gaelen, Galador, and Nelwyn.

  “Our tactics have changed,” said Nelwyn. “We are now going forth as a force formidable enough to protect the Stone, having gotten all the way to the borders of Tuathas. The lands beyond are said to be uninhabited. We don’t need to worry about unwanted attention there.”

  “Kotos won’t buy it,” said Fima. “He might even realize that we’re on to him. Hopefully he has not realized it already!”

  “If he has, he has not informed Gorgon,” said Gaelen, “for he is still following close behind, and there are Ulcas not too far behind him. They are still keeping their distance.”

  “How do you know about them?” asked Galador.

  “Well…the wind is not always out of the west, is it?” said Gaelen.

  “We have made our way to the borders of Tuathas,” said Rogond, pointing to their position on Carmyn’s map. “Now we should decide whether to try to take our large contingent of guardians with us, or to leave them behind. Our task here, presumably, is to find a new hiding place for the Stone of Léir. That would be the most secret of tasks!”

  “It would,” said Fima. “But we would not leave the Stone there without guardians. Kotos must think that we intend to establish a permanent, if small, garrison. Therefore, several of our associates should come with us, leaving the others behind
to battle the Ulcas. Then we won’t need to worry about any pursuit.”

  “Only pursuit by Gorgon and Lord Kotos, Lord of Light willing,” growled Gaelen under her breath.

  The Company, now reunited, surveyed the scene before them. The borderlands of Tuathas looked innocent enough, yet they could still see tall plumes of steam from the Monadh-ainnas, and a few in the distant south of the forgotten lands they were about to enter. “Well, let’s go on then,” said Fima. “After all, it’s all uphill from here!” He started forward, striding confidently and with purpose, knowing that he would face the test of his life in the time to come.

  Chapter 23

  THINGS UNEXPECTED

  The stage was set. Gaelen and company would proceed deep into the heart of Tuathas, luring Gorgon and Kotos behind them. Lady Ordath and Lord Magra made ready the defenses of Mountain-home, as Wrothgar’s forces converged from the north and west. Lady Arialde prepared to safeguard the body of Lord Shandor, which had been removed from Mountain-home to Tal-sithian. She also prepared to defend the real Stone of Léir, if necessary.

  Lord Wrothgar had a few tricks that he had not revealed through Nelwyn’s false vision. He had shown Bödvari invading Tal-sithian, but there were none of these remaining in the western lands. Yet Wrothgar held other weapons that the Elves would not expect, and he was stronger than they realized. He had virtually emptied the Fell-ruin, calling forth a swarming mass of Ulcas, trolls, foul beasts, and evil men. It was these evil men who posed the most deadly threat to the Elves of Mountain-home, for they would command the Dark Army.

  When the next report from Lord Kotos came to Tûr Dorcha, the news was not quite as cheerful as anticipated. It seemed that the Elves transporting the Stone had called for reinforcements, and now they outnumbered his Ulcan forces. Wrothgar knew that his Ulcas were outmatched. They may have been fierce fighters, but they would not prevail against superior numbers. Yet he was not concerned. Keep to thy course, he told Kotos.

  We are placing much faith in the Elfhunter, my Lord, said Kotos.

  All will be clear to thee, said Wrothgar. There are things in Tuathas which will thwart them. The Elfhunter will not suffer the Elves to prevail. Our faith is well placed.

  Thy Will be done, my Lord, said Kotos, his dark spirit both encouraged and in doubt.

  The Company had plunged into Tuathan lands, taking their vanguard of Elves with them. They had agreed to continue until the way became too difficult, and then only a few Elves would go on with Gaelen and company. The rest would keep Wrothgar’s Ulcas at bay, but they were not to interfere in any way with Gorgon Elfhunter.

  It would soon be autumn in the northlands, and the Company began to feel the chill. “It doesn’t make sense,” said Fima on one miserably damp, cold night. “We are moving south, yet it is getting colder.”

  “It will start snowing soon,” said Galador, who was highly attuned to such things. Soon after the last words left his lips the first tiny specks of white could be seen on his cloak. This was sleet, and not snow, but it was close enough.

  There were other signs that the realm into which they now walked was not a happy one. The ground grew very stony, with peculiar patches of barren, pitted black rock that resembled the hardened flow of some liquid. “We have encountered the first of the lava-flow,” said Fima. “This was molten rock vomited up by one of these mountains…I would guess that large one there.”

  Nothing grew on those sprawling, black drifts except tiny grey lichens and some struggling moss. And though there were plants growing elsewhere, they were diminishing in size and vigor. The air now smelled of sulfur, reminding the Company of their encounter with the Mountains of Dread in the southern desert. One of the more ominous signs was the first appearance of twisted, grey-green brambles with long, wicked thorns. These soon became the predominant form of life, as they could grow where nothing else would.

  Finally the day came when the terrain became too difficult for the horses. The horrible thorn-bushes had increased both in size and in number, and a blade was necessary to make any progress through them. Rogond, Galador, and Fynn had been especially helpful in clearing the way, but the horses could not cope with such narrow quarters. Besides, they could not eat the brambles. They would need to make their way back north, to where there was forage. Thus it was that the Company said farewell to their beloved mounts and to their Elven protectors. The Elves were to take the horses back to a suitable encampment and wait there for the return of the Company.

  “You must move on before the onset of winter,” said Rogond. “Do not wait until the land freezes or you will be hard put to survive. We will make our own way back.” He steeled himself for his next words. “If I do not return, please take good care of Eros. Watch that he does not escape you…he will not understand why I haven’t returned for him. Take him to safety and convince him to stay there!”

  He walked over to his wonderful horse and patted the now-furry neck. Eros would not suffer in the cold—that was certain. Rogond looked his old friend over carefully, noting the tiny white hairs flecking the darkness around his eyes and muzzle. “Well, Eros, it seems that we both have gotten older on this journey. You must stay here and mind the Elves for me.” He patted Eros again, and then turned from him.

  Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Galador were also quite grieved to leave their mounts behind. “Toran will make a fine mount for someone in the Greatwood,” said Gaelen, “though it should be someone taller than I, such as Wellyn. Take good care of him. He has proved his worth.”

  “Everyone in the Greatwood is taller than you are,” whispered Nelwyn, who had just said goodbye to Gryffa.

  “Yes, I know,” said Gaelen with a sigh. “Now let us move on, before I start weeping over that ridiculous, huge animal.”

  “Who would weep over a horse?” said Galador. Everyone in the Company knew the answer to that question, as Galador’s eyes were red.

  It was slow going from that moment on. Fynn and Rogond walked in front, hewing the brambles with their blades, while Galador and Arlan carried the casket containing the replica of the Stone on two stout poles. It did not overburden them, for though it was heavy, they were both strong and tireless. Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Fima bore the rest of the provisions.

  “I hope there is water here that isn’t full of poisonous ash,” said Nelwyn. “We only have enough for about three days’ march.”

  “There’s snow on the brambles,” said Gaelen. “Snow may be melted.”

  “Yes, but, this close to the Fire-mountains, will it be fit to drink?” said Nelwyn.

  “I suppose we’ll find out in about three days,” said Gaelen, and they spoke no more of it.

  Gorgon managed to circumvent the Elves’ encampment, following the Company. Tracking was easy…all one had to do was follow the only path cut through the brambles. They had taken the Stone with them. “What do they intend to do once they have hidden it?” asked Gorgon. “Surely they won’t just drop it in some hole and leave it unguarded.”

  “It is obvious,” said Kotos as he peered out at Gorgon from the amulet. “Have you not noticed the tracks of two Elves who travel with them? They are obviously the appointed guardians. They will be left in charge of the Stone, and every so often new guardians will be sent from the garrison to relieve them. They probably intend to take the Stone back to Tal-sithian when the war has ended and they believe their lands are safe again.”

  “Hmmmm…” growled Gorgon, but he was not convinced. What would they eat? What would they drink? How would they survive? And surely the garrison of Elves left behind did not intend to spend the winter in Tuathas! That would probably kill them all…they must have thought of it. Was it possible that Kotos had not? He no longer ate, or drank, or shivered in the cold. He expended no energy in survival. But then, Gorgon reconsidered.

  Kotos had not dwelled within a body of his own in five thousand years, but his spirit had lived in the world for time out of mind, and he was shrewd. If Gorgon had held these doubts, Kotos had, too. Yet a force
drove him on despite all doubt—Kotos could not fail in his task, and he knew it. Again, Gorgon kept his thoughts to himself.

  As he followed the well-hewn path before him, Gorgon reflected on the Company’s choice of hiding places. I wonder who has chosen it. Certainly, the ruin of Tuathas would be a good place to hide the Stone, as it is at least believed to be uninhabited. It was not likely that anyone would wander into such a fierce and unforgiving place. Yet the Elves could not leave the Stone unguarded. Why, then, would they choose to subject their chosen guardians to such hardship? Perhaps there is something about this lost realm that I did not know. He was looking forward to finding out. Gorgon was an inquisitive creature, a trait inherited from his mother. The world had yet to witness the birth of an inquisitive Ulca.

  In Mountain-home, the preparation for the upcoming battle continued. Everyone in the Company had been pressed into service, even Estle. Her condition was no longer in doubt; if she kept safe she would bring forth Hallagond’s child in late winter. She would fight now only out of dire need. As ever, Hallagond had proven useful, and though it took a while for the Elves of Mountain-home to accept Azori, they were glad of his aid once they did.

  There were said to be men of low character directing some of Wrothgar’s forces, and the Elves could not anticipate their plans. Azori had lived all of his life among such men. “Who better to foil brigands than another brigand?” he said, laughing in his loud manner and clapping the Elves on the back or the shoulder. They winced, smiled, and said nothing, knowing he was right.