Worms' Ending: Book Eight (The Longsword Chronicles 8)

by GJ Kelly

  “Yours needs cutting,” Elayeen replied. “And your beard.”

  “Tomorrow. I’m too tired for such things now.”

  “Are you trying to hide the scar above your eye and hoping I would not notice it, miheth?”

  “No,” Gawain lied, and his sheepish smile gave him away. “Have you opened the bundle and the letters from Lady Merrin?”

  “Briefly, while you were bathing. I shall give them the attention they deserve later. Much later. Do not try to change the subject.”

  “It was a small wound, miheth, don’t fuss. It was had in the battle when Venderrian fell. There’ll be time enough to tell of it later. For now I just want to hold you, and look at you. There were times along the way…” Gawain’s voice faltered, suddenly choked with emotion.

  “Times along the way?” she prompted softly, after a pause.

  “There were times along the way I could not recall your face. I tried so hard but I couldn’t summon the memory of you standing as you are now, and I never, never want to forget again.”

  “Silly G’wain,” she whispered. “I am not a memory to be carried in your mind. I live here, in your heart. You have but to hold me there, and nothing else matters.”

  Gawain sniffed, and kissed her. “So, you forgot what I looked like, too, then?”

  It was Elayeen’s turn to look sheepish for a moment before turning in his arms, the better to stand closer to him, his arms wrapped around her and resting lightly atop the bulge that was to become their son.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then. By the Teeth, E, you are become bigger than I imagined on my journey home. Are you sure the new prince will come in April and not in the next five minutes?”

  “I am sure. And thank you for noticing that I am become bloated and ungainly.”

  “Bah. More for me to hold. I have missed you so. And worried so.”

  “I know. But all here is as well as is to be expected. Though there is much news to be shared, of course.”

  “It can wait until dinner. The new fireplace out there is impressive, it warms the hall nicely.”

  “I leave its care entirely to Arbo. We of the forest realm are not raised to be comfortable preparing such conflagrations as he lights in the hearth. He has insisted upon keeping the hall warm, day and night, for my sake he says.”

  “Good for him, says I. Can’t have you jumping up and down and flapping your arms to keep warm. That’d be most unqueenly.”

  Elayeen smiled, rocking gently from side to side in Gawain’s embrace. “He works tirelessly as ever. Everyone has.”

  “And Corax?”

  “Especially wizard Corax.”

  “Good. That’s one backside less to be kicked. Though in truth, after the revelation of the Hallencloister, I find I have a certain sympathy for those wizards yet loyal to the kindred.”

  “Riders Cherris and Dirs described to us the horror. That such catastrophe was wrought by elves shames all of us forest-born.”

  “No, it does not,” Gawain declared softly, hugging her tighter, “The crimes of the Toorseneth are no more the crimes of all elfkind than are the crimes of Morloch to be laid at the kindred’s door. Did they stay? Dirs and Cherris? I saw them not when we arrived.”

  “No. They were made welcome, and Major Tyrane invited them to remain at my request, but they declined. They had a duty, they said, and meant to spread word of the Hallencloister’s fate and warnings to wizards all along the southern border of Juria. I do not know what became of them once they passed through Dun Meven.”

  “Well. That’s another subject for dinner. How much time do we have together before we’re expected at the table?”

  “Arbo has yet to ring the half-hour bell. We have that much time at least.”

  “Ring the what?”

  “He rings a bell half an hour before dinner is served. It allows guests to prepare for the meal and to take their place, and gives me time to waddle like a child carrying a sack of potatoes from here to the table.”

  Gawain gave a gentle snort, and kissed the top of her head. “Your sense of humour hasn’t deserted you, at least.”

  “What makes you believe I was attempting humour, G’wain?”

  “Oh…”

  It was Elayeen’s turn to give a delighted giggle, and she patted his hands, and turned her head for a clumsy kiss. Outside, a bell rang, three clear, ringing chimes.

  “Arbo’s bell, I presume?”

  “Yes, miheth.”

  “Good. Then I have at least half an hour to tell you how much I love you, and how I ached for you in the dark hours of lonely watches in the wilds you know well from your own travelling there. Captain Hass would be disappointed if he knew how much time I spent thinking of you when I should have been watching for signs of threat or danger.”

  “And I would share his disappointment miheth, so do not tell me. It is painful enough to know your life was imperilled and you now bear a scar to remind me and all your friends that we were not there to aid you in battle. Don’t add to my suffering by declaring you were careless on watch because of me.”

  “Are you chiding me, my queen?”

  “Yes. Though gently, I hope. You only ever have one task, G’wain, whatever else you are about when you leave me, and that task is to return safely to me. If ever you leave me again, do not let thoughts of me jeopardise the completion of that one task.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. May we sit a while?”

  “Oh! Yes, of course… are you well? Should I summon the healer?”

  Elayeen giggled. “No, of course you should not. It is simply that your son is heavy and standing for a long time makes my back ache, and my ankles, and I stood for a long time outside the hall when word came you were near.”

  “Then consider yourself gently chided for standing thus, when you could have been warm and sitting inside the hall, and not freezing outside and standing until I was in sight.”

  “I was, and I did, and my Sight held your light uninterrupted from the forest end of the east road,” Elayeen sighed, plopping onto the bed, smiling at Gawain’s concern. “You need not fuss so, miheth. I am quite robust. Would you fret so for a mare in foal?”

  “Pfft. You want me to throw an extra blanket over you and leave you plenty of hay and water?”

  “Nooo don’t leave me!” she squeaked quietly, like a little girl.

  Gawain grinned, and sat beside her, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, her hand in his. And there, together, talking softly of their love and their hopes, they awaited Arbo’s final dinner bell.

  oOo

  42. First Dinner

  When Gawain helped Elayeen from their apartments and walked with her to the long table, he felt suddenly lighter, as though a great burden had been lifted from him. The warmth in the hall was soporific, but in spite of his tiredness, seemed to warm his very bones and give him strength and an appetite for the steaming food set on the board before him.

  After seating Elayeen, he looked at the guests he’d invited to this first meal of his return to the hall. Allazar to the right, disappointingly clean-shaven and hair cut short and tidy already. Ognorm to the left, clean and with hair and beard trimmed but as unruly as ever. Tyrane, Wex, Meeya, Valin, Corax, Martan of Tellek, Segrit and Rochard, Tam and Reef and Maeve of the Guard. Arbo, of course, though he stood quietly and attentively to the near side of the great stone hearth in which logs blazed. Gawain nodded to them all, and took his place, and they sat.

  Soup, hot and rich, steamed in their bowls, and Gawain ripped a hunk of bread from a loaf which he passed to Elayeen before tasting the soup, cautiously for its obvious temperature. Oxtail. He smiled, dunked his bread into the bowl and the meal began thus in silence, and continued likewise until the bowls were empty, and three tired travellers looking as though they’d woken to a wondrous and fabled yonderlife.

  “Well then,” Gawain announced quietly, once the bowls were cleared away and hot plates heaped with slabs of roast beef and mounds
of vegetables set in their place. “For three of us here, our quest is ended. We set out for answers, and found them. Our journey thereafter took us to Juria and Hellin’s Hall, and I expect by now you will have learned something of the events which took place there. From Juria, thence to Tarn, briefly, to fetch the Sceptre of Raheen and bring it back here to Last Ridings, and the Toorseneth nipping at our heels all the way.

  “One place there is vacant at this board, and this you also doubtless know. That place is Ranger Venderrian’s, who fell in battle, slain by a witless worm of a man in Jurian garb who claimed his vile deed service and duty to Hellin and to the now Steward of Juria, Insinnian, her consort. A full account of our journey and our loss shall be given later, perhaps after the homecoming feast I understand my lady has planned once we three of the ended quest are well rested. But this dinner is more than just a welcome home for those who left it. We’ve been very far from all news of any kind. So. Wex, news of the Hall?”

  “By our lady’s leave, sire. Defences have been strengthened since you sent word from West Forkings of the crystal Grimmand on the day of your departure. Patrols are increased in number and in range, news arriving much later of beasts at large in the wild, and later those later still identified and named Seekmaws as described in wizard Allazar’s book. Newsriders there are now too, regular visits to and from the Forkings, and they ride as far as Dun Meven and Harks Hearth in the west. Many have come who served at Far-gor, most of Arrun and Mornland who’ve brought welcome skills and crafts with them, swelling our numbers and helping to keep safe our shores and eastern approaches. Our security has been well maintained, sire, and is served by all who dwell here.”

  “Thank you,” Gawain nodded approvingly, and stabbed a roast potato, holding it poised on the brink of destruction over the edge of his plate while he glanced at his friend and former adjutant from Callodon. “Tyrane my friend. My lady has told me you and all here have worked tirelessly on behalf of my hall, and for that I thank you, and all at this board. What news of Igorn? What news of Pellarn?”

  Tyrane nodded graciously, took a sip of wine, and then spoke quietly, but with the calm authority all had become accustomed to.

  “M’lord, last news from Callodon concerning efforts in the Old Kingdom is become a little dated now, and for this we hold the weather accountable. Birdmaster Harribek has lines of communication open now between here and the Hearth, as well as Dun Meven in the west, and East Forkings and Sudshear in the east. He recently conducted trials with Callodon Castletown direct, but the service on that route is as yet unreliable.

  “Igorn laid siege to Pellarn Castletown at the end of September, and I believe all of us expected it to be short-lived. Reports received indicated that the enemy force within the walls was small and mercenary, and it was generally held that the people of Pellarn themselves would make short work of their oppressors once they spied the Black and Gold and its banners hoist without the walls. Alas.

  “We know not what means the enemy force employed nor what hold they had over the local population, but the siege lasted a great deal longer than anticipated. Meanwhile, Igorn deployed his limited forces in all directions, the better to liberate towns and villages in hope of acquiring eager local reinforcements. It was, from what we’ve gleaned from news official and otherwise, a protracted campaign, extending well beyond the date Igorn and his Gorian allies anticipated. We received news that the siege had broken in mid-December, the flag of Pellarn flying once more from the Keep within the walls.”

  “Oh huzzah…” Gawain sighed, and took a draught of hot spice wine. “And since then?”

  “Since then, m’lord, almost nothing have we heard. I believe it was Igorn’s intention to hold Pellarn only as long as necessary to ensure all enemies within its walls were despatched, and rule of law once more established. He was then intending to secure the banks of the Eramak, and raise once more the defences which were breached years ago during the invasion by mystic forces from the Empire.”

  “I had hoped for so much more,” Gawain sighed. “In my mind’s eye I have seen the Black and Gold sweeping through the Old Kingdom and restoring its liberty. It is, though, and in truth, a large land.”

  “Aye, m’lord, and Callodon’s forces limited, and far from home. Their supply lines are long indeed, and the weather inclement almost from the start of their campaign.”

  “And speaking of supplies, my friend, I saw the carriage-bow in place outside the hall when we rode in along the east road. What then is that up on the watchtower atop the Peak?”

  “Ah. I sent word to the Curator of Dun Meven as soon as we learned of the crystal-coated Grimmand, and asked that consideration be given to sending us another carriage-bow from their stores. He did so, and gladly. The one atop the watchtower has been modified by Urman, the fellow who does much good work about the place?”

  “I know him. One of Ranger Leeny’s lieutenants from Fallowmead. Modified how?”

  “Its wheels are removed, and the weapon mounted on a pivot, and with pedals may be swung through all points of the compass, and rapidly. Instruction has been given in its use, all watchkeepers are now able to operate the weapon, and it certainly tracks swiftly enough for the bringing down of a Graken or other speedy aerial target.”

  “Good. The Toorseneth has been busy, and sent one of those wing-lizards against us near the Hallencloister. We can, I am sure, expect another in due course. Is there anything more?”

  “Mundane matters, m’lord. Winter stores have been laid up as you requested, lines of communication improved or established, and as Serre Wex of the Guard has reported, security enhanced and new protocols for the scrutiny of strangers arriving at the dock put in place. Much work has been done at the quay, a way-station built and a shed for goods and travellers inbound until their credentials and thus our safety is assured.”

  Gawain was astonished, and impressed. Then he smiled. “Not making visitors sing the Grimmand Song, are you?”

  Chuckles and snorts around the table lightened the mood, memories tickling of the song allegedly composed by a Mornland cook when the Kindred Army was camped at Ferdan as an infallible test for one suspected of being a Grimmand.

  “I hadn’t thought to, m’lord, but now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll add it to the list of security protocols which must be satisfied before strangers may enter from the quay.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “No, m’lord. I don’t doubt that mundane lists of supplies, stores, and personnel can wait until you are well rested enough to be interested in such matters.”

  “Thank you, my friend. That you’ve remained in my hall and worked so tirelessly on my behalf while Callodon strives in the west is a service far greater than simple friendship demands, and is a debt which I can never hope to repay.”

  “I have been told by others who serve your hall that ‘bah’ is an appropriate response at such times, m’lord.”

  Gawain smiled, and nodded with immense and obvious gratitude, and turned his gaze to Martan of Tellek and the dwarves.

  “Ain’t nought fer me to brag about, Serre, an’ nought ye can’t see with yer own two orbs when you’ve a mind. Lower workin’s is all done as you wanted, an’ you’ll be proud o’ the lads I ‘opes when you sees it. No rush, though, Serre. Reckon you’ll have plenty more to occupy yerself with afore you needs to see our ‘andiwork.”

  “Serre Martan is exceeding modest,” Elayeen lilted. “Progress on the roundtower has been extraordinary.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Gawain smiled. “I half expected to see it looming over Crown Peak when we emerged from the forest. Thank you Martan. I’ll join you and your good old boys at the Ending as soon as I can, and you can give me a guided tour. Serre Valin?”

  “MiThal. Of the nineteen rangers serving in Juria after Far-gor, only three remain unaccounted for.”

  “Does that include the eight who serve now in Tarn?”

  “Eight, miThal?”

  “Yes, s
o Lord Rak told me.”

  “Then only two of the ninety-four remain unaccounted for, miThal, since eight have also arrived here in answer to the recall. Ranger Emeth was stationed north of Juria Castletown, and thus is likely now in service in Threlland. The two whose whereabouts remain unknown are therefore most likely Ranger Essendal, once of ‘Hethgard, and Ranger Freyan, once of Minyorn. Both were thought to be patrolling in the region around Doosen and Bardin, and perhaps even as far south as the Jarn Gap.”

  “Ranger Foden patrolled that region too, did he not, before he was called here to provide support when we left for Urgenenn’s Tower?”

  “He did, miThal. He thinks it is possible they might have answered a call that took them through the Jarn Gap and across the River Ostern.”

  “Into Pellarn?”

  “So Ranger Foden hopes, miThal.”

  Gawain nodded, and frowned. It was bad enough losing Venderrian in battle. The prospect of two more rangers being unaccounted for was alarming.

  “There is as yet no cause for concern, miheth,” Elayeen lilted softly.

  “Still,” Gawain sighed, “The ranger’s lot is not an easy one, as all of you at this table well know. I should like to devise some means of knowing where all our rangers are. I do not like to think of rangers alone with no recourse to support or reinforcements. Especially in Juria, and especially close to the forest of southern Elvendere.”

  From the look on everyone’s faces, Gawain realised that perhaps he was hoping for far too much, but also from the looks he received, his genuine concern for the elves in his command was warmly received and greatly uplifting, and three at the table seemed to sit slightly taller, as if absolved of some unspoken sin. It took a few moments for him to realise that perhaps they felt tarnished by association for the destruction by elves of the Hallencloister.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve had time to look at the stones we brought back for you to study, Corax?”

  “I have, my lord, though only a cursory glance of course. The gems have been cut from what appears to be vitreous rock of the same kind used to construct the tower in the Eastbinding. I do not like to offer opinions, my lord, and much prefer facts, but all my cursory tests so far suggest the material is obsidian.”