by GJ Kelly
Those bushy eyebrows arched. “Just like that?”
“Yes, why not?”
“You mentioned those Kiromok things, and those blasted Razorwing birds.”
“All being well, your Majesty,” Allazar announced, “It really will be as simple as Longsword suggests. A hasty journey, pausing only at Juria to pay respects to Hellin, and thence to Callodon, there to make quiet arrangements for a boat, crew and an escort from the forest to the coast.”
“And the fewer who know about it, the better,” Gawain added. “I don’t want this to be a race, and if the enemy discovers our purpose, it’ll end up frantic and doubtless messy.”
Eryk shook his head again, and pushed himself from the chair. He leant on the mantelpiece above a small fireplace, gazing down into the glowing hearth. “This thing was made by a Forgemaster of Threlland. Noble intentions or not, treachery or not, it was dwarves who made it. It’ll be dwarves who help unmake it, or at least aid in its destruction or disposal. I’ll not bequeath this blight upon the honour of Threlland to some future generation, nor shall I permit Forgemaster Theo of Smeltmount to rest uneasy while this task remains undone.”
Gawain saw the depth of passion glowing in Eryk’s eyes, and understood. “Very well, Threlland. I’ll take one of your men. We might need a dwarf’s strength and determination at that. There was a fellow at Far-gor who drew my attention and distinguished himself there…”
“Name him, he’s yours.”
“He might have a family…”
“Name him, Raheen. This is a matter of honour, for all dwarves, for all time! There are ghosts that cannot sleep over this and dammit neither shall I rest easy until it’s done!”
“His name is Ognorm, of the Ruttmark.”
“I’ll send for him, and have him meet you at Tarn. When do you leave for the south?”
“As soon as he arrives at Tarn and is ready. The darker months will aid us in recovering the device, and the sooner it’s beyond all reach and all light, the better.”
“Then you’ll want to take the ’Mountpath before noon, and reach The King’s Hammer before it gets too dark. I’m sorry, Raheen, we’ll have to postpone our getting tired and emotional until next you return, after this evil thing’s on the bottom of the southern sea, and Threlland’s honour is restored.”
The audience was clearly at an end, and Gawain and Allazar stood, solemnly, and all three in that small chamber were keenly aware of the burden they had accepted.
“You’ll want to take the northerly route down from Tarn to the plains,” Eryk announced, clasping Gawain’s arm in farewell, “This time of year and with it as wet as it is, the river crossing to the south will be flooded and not worth the risk. Besides, fewer will note your passing if you go the northern way, if it’s stealth you’re looking for.”
“How long will it take Ognorm to arrive at Tarn?”
Eryk pondered the question a moment. “I’ll send a decent horse for him. Could be two or three days after you arrive back at my niece’s house, depends on the weather and how well this Ognorm can sit saddle.”
Gawain nodded. “Then, until our return my friend, farewell.”
“Speed your journey, Gawain of Raheen. I would that you didn’t have to make it, though for Threlland’s honour, I’m glad that it’s you who do.”
The King’s Hammer was quiet and almost empty when the two of Raheen entered from the side door leading in from the stables. The journey down the ‘Mountpath, made treacherous by incessant rain and blustery gales, had been undertaken in silence; a silence borne entirely of intense concentration upon the rocky and slippery road. Now, suddenly in the warmth of the inn and shirking off wet cloaks, they could speak, and the first words out of Allazar’s mouth were an order for hot stew and dumplings and a pitcher of hot spice wine.
At a table near a lazy fire, they sat and waited for the food to arrive, warming hands and relaxing after the strain of the journey down.
At length, Allazar glanced around the room and then at Gawain, and spoke softly.
“Ognorm of Ruttmark?”
Gawain shrugged. “A powerful fellow. He’s the one who threw an arrow the furthest at the Grimehalt in Ferdan. According to Karn, he also distinguished himself in combat against the Meggen at the front line, and Karn should know, he was there in the thick of it too.”
“Ah.”
“To be honest, Allazar, his was the first dwarven name I could think of who wasn’t killed at Far-gor, and I certainly wasn’t about to nominate Rak or Martan. Or Karn, either, for that matter.” Gawain suddenly sighed and shook his head ruefully, eyeing the table and fingering the faded names inevitably scratched deep in its ancient surface.
Allazar frowned. “Something troubling you, Longsword?”
It’s all just names... “No, just thinking how a name can change the course of man’s life. Or a dwarf’s.”
The wizard nodded. “And if he can’t ride a horse?”
Gawain shrugged. “He’ll learn along the way. Jaxon and Kahla managed it, and we’re in no desperate hurry this time.”
“No, and frankly I cannot imagine ever being in a desperate hurry to return to that city in the south. I still hear the screaming in my dreams, and the sounds of that city dying.”
“I too,” Gawain admitted, gazing deep into the fire, “Though the last few nights have been strangely undisturbed by the ghosts of my past, and by the Teeth there are many of those.”
There was another silence while the landlord and a barmaid delivered steaming bowls of stew, a loaf, and a generous pitcher of hot wine, and then the two travellers set to their meal, both more than a little grateful for the hot and hearty fare.
Gawain tore a hunk from the loaf and dipped it into his stew, and then Allazar spoke the question both of them had been pondering, and one of them avoiding.
“And our lady, Longsword? Will you take her back to that city?”
Gawain paused, holding the sopping bread over his bowl. Then he sighed. “I don’t know, Allazar. In truth, I don’t want to. In truth, I don’t want to go there myself and never imagined any of us would need to. Dwarfspit, Allazar, we should have paid more attention while we were there, instead of trying so hard to forget. We should have paid more attention on the journey along that Dwarfspit canal. We should have paid more attention at Ostinath and I should’ve understood more the significance of that whitebeard bastard Keeve and his messages to the Toorseneth.”
“Ifs and buts, Longsword,” Allazar said gently, and turned his attention to his food once more.
“It’s more than that, though. If we’d all kept our wits about us in that city instead of fleeing in horror… can you imagine? We could’ve taken that cursed Orb from the dome then, and might even have been able to use it as a weapon against Morloch’s army as they approached. Launched it into their midst from a grappinbow.”
“An unlikely scenario, Longsword, and a path we did not take. And it seems to me you’re avoiding my question, if’n you don’t mind me sayin’ so.”
“Martan has a charm all of his own and can get away with that. You, on the other hand, are a lunatic obsessed with rabbits, and you certainly can’t.”
“Ah.”
“But yes, I have considered Elayeen, and no, I don’t want to take her back there. Not just because I don’t think I could bear the pain of being so close to her, but because this time she won’t have the influence of that ancient bitchwizard Eldengaze to shield her from all the horrors we’ll hear there again.”
“Yes, she alone seemed entirely unaffected by the Orb’s influence.”
“It was terrifying enough to think of losing her when we engaged the Meggen hand-to-hand at the front, I don’t want to risk losing her again. I want her safe, and as far from those ‘spitsuckers in the Toorseneth as possible.”
“I too think it would be wise to keep our lady from approaching within sight of the great forest. Though she may have many friends there, it is clear she also has many enemies, and powerful
ones at that. Should one of those enemies so much as catch a glimpse of her, there is no telling what might happen.”
Gawain sighed, and turned his attention back to his meal. “I daresay she’ll have the last word on the matter.”
“I shall add whatever weight my words carry to your side of the argument, Longsword, should it be necessary. Much is happening which is beyond all our sight and knowledge, not the least of which is this unspoken duty Elayeen has said the circles have imposed upon her, and which keeps her hand from yours. Whatever it is, we have little choice but to respect her wishes in the matter, and also to respect the duty, whatever it may be.”
“Why? Because it was the eldenbeards who inflicted it upon her?”
“Alas, yes. In all the time Arramin and I spent at work upon the copying of the compendium, I had the opportunity to consider the nature of the knowledge imparted to me by the circles. It is not simply that they filled my mind with the foul designs contained in Morloch’s Pangoricon, but there is more, much more, including mystic knowledge formerly denied to me by my lowly rank at the Hallencloister.”
“And what does this knowledge tell you?”
Allazar shrugged, and took a sip of steaming wine. “That they had great foresight, and the wisdom to understand the nature of the many of the perils we would face here, in our time. Whatever duty remains to our lady, we can be sure it is neither trivial, nor to be impeded. The very fact that those eldenbeards of yours foresaw a need and took such remarkable steps to satisfy it demands respect, if not a certain degree of fear.”
“Fear?” Gawain mumbled, mopping up the last of his stew with a lump of bread.
“Indeed so. You may be sure that they also took steps to assure the successful outcome of whatever duty has been imposed upon our lady. I would not wish to be the one to discover what those measures were, nor would I wish to witness the return of Eldengaze, now that our lady is herself once more.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of this at all.”
Allazar nodded, his expression stern. “Nor I, Longsword. But, since I am supposed to be the Word, my word to you is caution, where our lady is concerned. We have no way of knowing how important her duty may be to our world, and must take care not to interfere with it. There were many adjectives etched within the floor in the hall of your fathers, and most remain unknown to us all.”
Gawain sat back, and pushed the empty bowl slightly away from him while he pondered Allazar’s warning. Finally, he nodded, and reached for his wine, and then looked into the wizard’s eyes.
“You know, your words might carry a bit more weight if I didn’t know it took you a week to come up with ‘Morloch’ for the Ms in your pocket Pangoricon.”
Allazar smiled sadly. “I was under great stress at the time.”
“Horse-feathers.”
“It was all I could think of with everything else going on around me. A bit like plucking the name ‘Ognorm of Ruttmark’ out of thin air on the brink of the moment, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Ah.”
oOo
17. Far Removed
It fell to Allazar to explain the reason for Arramin’s concern and the discovery unearthed in the vaults beneath Crownmount, and Rak, Merrin, and Elayeen sat at the kitchen table listening intently to every word. It had taken Gawain and Allazar five days to make the return trip from The King’s Hammer, the wind against them and howling almost incessantly every step of the way. They had been gone for three weeks, and the relief at their return was obvious.
So too was the rising sense of horror in lady Merrin’s kitchen when Allazar related the bare facts of the ToorsenViell’s treachery, and its consequences. Heads bowed, eyes blinked, hands trembled. Elayeen drew in a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes tight shut, and both Rak and Merrin shook their heads as if to deny the part, no matter how innocent, that Threlland had played in the destruction of Calhaneth.
Finally, as the hour grew late and the gist of Theo of Smeltmount’s remarkable account was told, there was a long silence broken by the hissing of embers in the grate. It was Gawain who spoke first.
“I am taking the wizard, and in company with a dwarf named Ognorm of Ruttmark, we’re returning to that city. With luck, we can recover the Orb safely, and then dispose of it once and for all.”
“Did Eryk not offer you more men, my brother?”
“He did, but I declined them. And before you ask, Rak, no, I’m not taking you with me. It’s not a battle we go to fight. I hope simply to slip into the forest unnoticed, secure the Orb, and then leave with it, unhindered. The smaller the number of people who know of our quest, the better, and the less the chance of us being opposed once we get there. I understand the slight upon Threlland’s honour you all seem to feel, even though the disaster was none of Theo’s doing, but too large a force would be noticed. Elayeen…”
“I cannot go with you, G’wain,” she sighed, her voice breaking with the sorrow, shame, and anger she felt. “I cannot return to Calhaneth. I am sorry.”
He nodded, and his hand moved self-consciously along the table-top towards hers, but stopped short of the point where he knew she would protest. “I am glad,” he said softly, “I had it in mind to ask you to remain here with our friends, safe, and far from the forest. It’s too dangerous for you to approach within sight of your homeland now, and I would have our friends keep you safe and well for my return.”
Elayeen drew in another shuddering breath. “The treachery of the Toorseneth runs deeper than even that which the circles revealed to me. The days of Toorsen must be ended. You must understand, G’wain, all of you must understand, I cannot return to Calhaneth. I cannot return to the forest…”
“Of course we understand,” Merrin soothed, and did what Gawain could not, reaching out to take Elayeen’s hand in hers. “There is no question but that you should remain here and rest, in peace and in comfort.”
Elayeen sniffed, and nodded. “Yet it was elves, too, who died that day. It is not just the honour of Threlland which cannot rest easy until the Orb is no more. G’wain, you cannot go without the Sight to watch over you, and you cannot go without an elf to bear witness to the destruction of this evil. At least one of the Kindred Rangers must go with you.”
“Very well, E. Thank you.”
“I will go to Meeya and Valin in the morning, and thence to the barracks where the Rangers are quartered.” And then a thought seemed to strike Elayeen and she added, her eyes damp, “You won’t leave until I return?”
“Of course not.”
She sighed, and nodded again.
“When do you leave?” Rak asked, his gaze rich with sadness.
“Once Ognorm has arrived from the Ruttmark, and once we’re ready. A few days, I suppose. We’ll need frak, and clothes to keep us warm and dry on the journey. Not much else.”
“I’ll attend to the supplies, my brother, just tell me what you need. Will you be returning to the inn at this late hour?”
“No, not tonight, I and my lady have much to discuss.”
“Good,” Rak nodded. “Then, by your leave, my lady and I shall retire. The news you have brought from Crownmount lies heavy on our hearts, and smothers the joy of your return. A good night’s sleep, if any can be had at all, might find us better company in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night, Rak. Lady Merrin.”
Gawain and Allazar stood while Rak and his lady departed, then Allazar himself bade them goodnight, discreetly leaving Gawain and Elayeen alone in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry I have to go so soon, E. If we leave it too late, spring sunshine may make the Orb too dangerous to approach, giving it power that might last throughout the darkest of nights.”
“I understand, G’wain.”
They sat close to each other, side by side at the table, facing the dying embers in the hearth, though the heat from the iron cooking range continued to warm the kitchen.
“I’ll be pausing at Juria’s castle town on the way south. I’d like t
o pay our respects to Hellin. Willam was a good man.”
“Yes.”
“From there to Callodon to make arrangements with Brock, and then to enter the forest west of the Castletown.”
“I wish I could go with you. Please believe me?”
“You still can’t tell me what this unfinished duty is, the one which keeps us apart?”
She sniffed, and lowered her gaze, and shook her head. Gawain sighed, and turned towards her a little, the chair scraping on the stone floor as he shifted his weight.
“I’m sorry, E. I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry I ever asked you to step into those Dwarfspit circles. You were right, in my father’s hall, when you stood on the brink and spoke of your disquiet. Since those circles split us apart, I have never been able to forget the words you uttered there. We are far, far removed from the minds of those who made this place, you said, and the world in which they lived. Who are we to meddle thus, with neither knowledge nor wisdom of their intent to guide us? I should have listened to you.”
Elayeen’s tears sparkled in the lamplight and dropped like diadems onto the table, her head still bowed, and her eyes closed.
“It was meant to be, G’wain,” she whispered, “None of this is your doing, any more than Calhaneth was Theo’s. This war has been waged forever, and will continue long after we are gone.”
“I don’t want to leave you, E. But I can’t leave the Orb there, not for Morloch’s spawn to use as a weapon against us all.”
“I know.”
Gawain gazed at her, her face suddenly shrouded by locks of silver-blonde hair which slid gracefully and silently from her shoulder, hiding her eyes. She seemed suddenly so frail, and so very alone, and Gawain felt an aching deep within his breast.
“I’d hoped for peace and quiet and time alone together,” he whispered, “I even told Gwyn that come springtime, we might make a gentle ride to Arrun, and visit with our people there. During my banishment, I never really ventured to that land. I should like to see it.”
Elayeen sniffed, and took a dainty kerchief from her sleeve to wipe her eyes and nose.