by J Battle
‘They’ll be after the Mage’s Magic, my Lady, and I hear it’s gone.’
‘You are right, Frenk. We no longer have the Wellstone to protect us,’ she glanced over at Cavour, who kept his eyes on his ale, ‘and the Mage will have little enough Magic remaining within himself to offer any resistance. We are in perilous circumstances indeed.’
‘What must be done?’
‘We cannot withstand them, and I will not have a good man like you make the futile attempt. We must gather all of the people together and leave the valley. Mayhap the water and the mist will foil them and we’ll be safe here in Hesselton.’
'I think you may be being hopeful there, my Lady, if you don't mind me saying,' said Cavour, almost to himself.
'Well, you may be right Cavour, but what else can we do? We can hardly take all of the people from the valley and the town and make them walk along the coast to some hope of safety.'
'Mayhap they'll leave when they find the Stone has gone?' suggested Loren.
'No, young Lady, I ain't seen these ones, but I saw the first, and he’s fierce and he won't be put off by nothing. He'll just keep right on looking 'till he finds what he wants, and anyone he finds in his way will rue the day his mother bore him.' Frenk spoke slowly, but he was sure of the truth of his words.
‘My Lady,’ said Cavour, pushing his drink to one side, ’it is time you allowed me to leave and go after BobbyJ and take the Stone from him.’
‘And what would you do with the Wellstone, my dear new friend? Would you come racing back with it to save the day and make yourself the Savior of Misthaven? Or would you carry on and never look back until you have brought the Stone to your Master?’
Cavour found that he could not meet her cold eyes.
‘Your suspicion is well-founded, my Lady, and I would not trust me in your place. But, what else can be done to save the valley? If you trust me and I do not return, what have you lost? Nothing, except the pleasure of punishing me for my sins.
‘If I go and return with the Stone, then there is a chance for the valley to be saved. I see no other way.’
‘There be Giants in the town,’ said Sam, quite out of the blue.
'Giants, Sam? Really?' said Alice, softly, 'that is news indeed, but perhaps for another time. We have more urgent considerations to make.'
'No, my Lady, the Giants will help us. They be big as a house and stronger than I don't know what, and I reckon they could knock those elvenfolks' heads together with no trouble, and prob'ly tell a story while they're at it, I think.'
'He's right about the Giants, my Lady,' said Gorge,' but I'm not so sure why they'd help us, and they look to sit and eat and drink 'til there's nothing left in the town's larder.'
'They're friendly enough, though,' Tom added, 'and not very clever, if you catch my point. I think we'd be able to persuade them to help.'
'You think your silver tongue can turn anyone to your way of thinking, Tom,' said Alice, as she considered the news, 'but, if they would help us; if they are as capable as Sam believes, and as malleable as Tom says, then we need to speak to them.'
'I've not heard nothing but bad news of Giants, my Lady, and that's the truth,' said Frenk.
'Well, it will be old news Frenk, I should think, as my father and I met a pair of Giants on the road last year, and they caused us no harm whatsoever, but they are not seen often in these parts. Cavour, you have travelled widely in your search for the Stone; what know you of such as Giants?’
‘My Lady, I have heard that they are travelling south away from the creeping cold in the north, and they cause havoc and destruction wherever they might go. But nothing more do I know.’
‘I see.’
She closed her eyes for a moment as she considered the best course of action, and silence fell all around her.
‘No,’ she said at last, ‘we must do this, and it best be done quickly. Sam, Tom and Gorge, take yourselves over to wherever these Giants can be found, and give them my invitation to dine with me here in this Tavern, and we shall see what may be.'
Alice watched calmly as the boys left on their errand, and then she asked Frenk if he would care to be included in the invitation.
'Ay, my Lady, it'll be nice to eat someone else's cooking for a change, 'cause I've never seemed to get the hang of it myself, and young Tedward here, he looks to be taking after his Pa.'
'Help me with these tables, will you? I expect we'll need to make a little more room for our honored guests.'
‘My Lady, what would you have me do?’ asked Cavour, as he unfolded his long body.
‘Would you follow him along the road, or anticipate his way and travel north to intercept him before he reaches his father?’
‘I would travel north, My Lady.’
‘Then you must wait until we have persuaded the Giants to fling the Elvenfolk from our land. I would not have anyone walk into danger; no matter how important the cause.’
‘My Lady, you need not worry about me. I will not be seen by anyone I don’t want to be seen by. I know how to travel unnoticed.’
‘Nethertheless, we will give the Giants a chance. If they will not help, then you may leave and pass your unseen way through a valley full of Elvenfolk, but not before.’
Cavour nodded his acquiescence and moved to help Frenk with the tables.
It was only a hop and step across to the other side of the harbour for the boys, so they were soon standing before the Giants once more.
'Good evening, gentlemen,' said Tom, with a little bow.
'Evening?' said Aarvarn, his eyes half focused on his pair of tankards, 'is it that time already? I thought it was still afternoon.'
'You were always a bit behind things, my old fat friend.' Raarvan leant across the doorway of the tavern and cracked his knuckle across Aarvarn's head. 'There, is that better? Do you know what time it is now?'
'Is it night-time now? Already?'
'Oh, he's got too far ahead of himself, but he'll slow down soon enough.'
He seemed to notice the boys for the first time.
'Are you the same humans who were here before? You look the same, but then so do all them humans I've seen.'
'Yes, Mr Raarvan, we are the same and we have returned with an invitation to dine with the Lady Ellendell.' Tom thought another bow was called for.
'You hear that, old fellow? We've got an invitation, to dine...with someone.' He nudged Aarvarn to be sure he had his attention.
'I heard; I'm dumb not deaf, as my old Ma used to say. What's an invitation when it's at home? And dine? That sounds like something I've heard of, but I can't remember.' Aarvarn shuffled his great buttocks up against the wall, causing a worrying creaking sound.
'An invitation is a request from one person to another to join them in a meal or something, and there will be free food and drink, and good company,' said Tom, by way of clarification.
'You hear that, Aarvarn? There'll be free food and drink.' Raarvan tapped him on the shoulder again; a blow that would have felled an ox.
'Free food? Free drink?' he looked down at the empty tankards in his hands. 'We ain't paying for these, are we?'
'And good company,' said Tom
'He means there'll be chatter and such like.' Raarvan groaned to his feet with the speed of a geological movement. 'Well, I say, we go to this Lady, and we eat and drink all she's got, and then we can come back here and do what we've been doing all day.'
'Now that sounds like a plan,' grunted Aarvarn. He joined his friend and, together they looked down at the boys. 'What happens now, then?'
'You follow us, that's what happens,' said Tom as he set of across the harbour.
'Is it night-time yet?' asked Aarvarn as they followed.
Raarvan laughed and bumped shoulders.
Chapter 43 Anders
Anders watched from the high window, as he had done for so long; unmoving, hardly thinking at all, as he waited for his doom to approach.
He saw them as they walked down the hill in a diso
rderly formation. First the Elvenfolk, tall and cloaked, with dark hoods to protect them from the honest sun. Then dozens of men, with staffs and swords and clubs, following on behind.
The sight broke his torpor and he stepped away from the window out of view.
He could go back to his room and lie down on his bed; cover his head with the covers and hope that they pass him by.
He could dash from the palace and be across the reservoir and through the town before they thought to give chase.
Or he could stand at the window and just watch them come.
He went down the stairs instead, to his cellar.
In the passion and excitement of coming to his power, he'd had a suit of armour made, from iron and leather, with a shield and a resplendent helm, and a great two-handed sword, with a crest designed by himself.
He'd never worn it and it was hanging still in the shadows of his cellar. Today, it seemed a fitting time to put it to good use.
Half an hour later he clanged and creaked from his front door and took up his position in the middle of the road.
As he stood there, it occurred to him to wonder what had happened to Aavtaar. This was more a job for him, he thought.
The first of the Elvenfolk was before him, all too soon.
He thought perhaps it was the same one he'd vanquished last time, when he was full of his power. He raised his hand as if he could still wield such inhuman power, and he smiled as the crawlord seemed to cringe.
'Be gone, fell beasts,' said Anders the Terrible, and he was relieved that his voice did not shake. 'There is nothing for you or your kind here. If you turn away and leave now, I shall spare you, but be quick about it, for my patience will not last.'
'Mage, I do not know your name, but give up the Stone, and it is your life that will be spared. We have no taste for blood, so give up the Stone, and none shall be shed. Do it now, human, for we also have little patience.'
Others joined him and soon there was a wall of Elvenfolk before him.
Anders raised both hands up, with his fingers held just so, and the first crawlord was thrown to the ground. There was a sudden gasp from the others at the proof that Elstar had been right all along.
Then, as one skinny benighted creature, they threw themselves at Anders the Terrible, Anders the Ill-considered, Anders the Slow, and, for one moment in his short life, Anders the Hero.
**********
‘Where are you off to, then?’ Dryan met them just as they were leaving the rulehall.
‘Oh, I didn’t see you there, Mr Dryan, sure I didn’t. You fair caught me by surprise, you did. Weren’t you surprised to see him, Harld?’
‘Ay, I was Orther; yes indeed. Shall we be on our way then, into town, do you think, before it gets itself dark?’
‘It’s barely noon, man,’ snapped Dryan. ‘Now, tell me what you’re up to, or I’ll find you a job or two that needs doing.’
‘No, sir, we can’t; we’re on the Master’s business, ain’t we Harld?’
‘Mayhap we are and mayhap we’re not,’ came the enigmatic reply.
‘But I heard him say…oh, ay, I see where you’re going. Sorry Mr Dryan, but we’re on secret business that we can’t discuss with no-one, not even yourself.’
‘That’s fine Orther, I’m too busy anyway to worry about what you are up to down in the town, and the Trytor told me himself. I forgot you were about his business.’
‘He told you?’ asked a dumbfounded Orther.
‘Ay, and you best be off and not keep him waiting. You know he hates to be kept waiting. Now, are you going to the town first or…?’
‘Well, that be the best place to find any first-born that might have been missed,’ said Harld, proud that he was able to speak as an equal to Dryan.
‘Ay, you’re right there, Harld. Now be about your business, and did the Master say that you should bring your findings to me first? He said he meant to say that.’
‘No, Mr Dryan, in fact he said the exact opposite, if you allow me to beg your pardon. He said only to tell him.’
‘Well, Harld, you know the Master; he often changes his mind. Now, I’d say this, and listen carefully. The Master don’t like to hear bad news, and it riles him up something awful, and he’s just as likely to lash out at whoever brings it to him. So, if it’s bad news, you want to tell me first, so that I can tell him for you, and you won’t get yourselves all hurt. If it’s good news of course, then there’s no need to worry, you can tell him yourselves, and leave me in peace.’
‘Thank you Mr Dryan, that’s generous, isn’t it Harld? To tell the bad news to the Trytor, so’s we don’t get eaten or nothing.’
‘Now, can I just ask you one thing? You are absolutely clear on what the Master would see as bad news and goods news? Because you don’t want to get them mixed up, do you?’
‘Well, he said… Harld what did he say? I can’t remember; he said a lot. Can you remember Harld?’
‘I think he said, that, if we find any first-born, we want to bring them back to him. A dozen, he said. Yes; a dozen.’
‘Good, Harld. Well remembered. Now, did you get the idea that that would be a good thing, or a bad thing?’
‘Sorry, Mr Dryan; I don’t think he said, did he Orther? You were listening with your ears, weren’t you?’
‘It seems to me that he said some things were good, and some things were bad.’
‘And?’
‘Well I didn’t rightly get which was which.’
‘Well, men. You have two choices. You can either report everything back to the Master, and risk being eaten if he’s angry, or you can report everything to me, and I’ll face him for you. Now off you go and think about it, and I’ll see you later. Or maybe I won’t see you; ever.’
He turned then and marched into the foyer of the rulehall, his eyes blazing with anger.
Had he fooled them? Would they do as he said, or bypass him and go straight to Lydorth? And what would they find anyway? He’d covered his tracks well, he was sure, and they weren’t the sharpest of investigators. There were no first-born in the town, and all the doors were adorned with grief flowers, and all the parents knew that they had to bemoan their loss in public. But what about the younger children? Mayhap they had overheard their parents speaking, and knew that their older sibling had been whisked away to safety. You couldn’t rely on them not to blurt it out when asked.
He stormed through the rulehall, relieved to find the Trytor elsewhere. Through the corridors and down the stone steps to the dungeons he rushed.
He had to see Esmere. It was time to leave the Trytor far behind and escape from his dark all-pervading influence, to Fairisle mayhap, if fortune was their friend.
But first he must make sure that Esmere was healthy and fit for the journey.
The dungeons were dark, lit by a single wall-torch, flickering in the many draughts.
‘Esmere,’ he whispered as he walked quietly into the gloom. ‘Esmere.’
‘She’s not here,’ replied a croaky male voice
‘Where is she?’
‘She left with the bastard Trytor, poor girl. Yesterday I think. Who knows what may have become of her?’
‘How was she, when you saw her, before she left?’
‘She was as fine as one can be when locked in a foul dungeon, chained and hungry.’
‘Was she in pain?’
‘Not as I could see. If you’re asking because you think the bastard Trytor might have used her carnally, then I think I can put your mind at rest. She would have been sorely hurt if that had happened, for he is not gentle.’
‘Thank you for your help. You are Cavour’s brother, are you not?’
‘Ay, I am. Have you news of him?’
‘Not since he left on the Trytor’s business some weeks ago. He is not expected to return anytime soon, as far as I know.’
‘What business is he about?’
‘Now, it is the Master’s business, and I’ll say no more.’
With a sigh, he l
eft the dark figure to his shadowed thoughts and mounted the steps once more.
‘Dryan,’ boomed the great voice from the top of the steps, ‘there you are.’
Dryan halted and glanced back the way he’d come; there was no escape there.
‘My lord Lydorth,’ he said softly.
‘Why are you down in the dungeons?’
‘I…I was looking for my daughter.’ There was little point in lying.
‘Your daughter? I believe we spoke of this, and I said you would have my decision. And now you sought to anticipate my agreement? Or just to deceive me? Which one is it, Dryan?’
‘I was merely concerned for my daughter’s safety, my Lord. Nothing else.’
‘Nothing else? Mayhap you merely wanted a taste of the dungeons? To have a taste of captivity and chains and hunger? Well, far be it from me to deny you the opportunity. You’ll find Garraldi good company. He talks little, but he is fully equipped with ears.’
‘My Lord…’
‘Enough! You will take your daughter’s place, in the cell if not in my bed. Mayhap you’ll feel a closeness to her there. Just for a day or so, of course. Nothing permanent, unless, that is, I hear news to displease me from Orther and Harld. Is that likely, do you think?’
Dryan said nothing as men were called to take him back down to the dungeons, to wrap him in cold chains and lock him in the dark, damp cell.
‘Sweet dreams there, Dryan. Think of me if you grow weary, in your daughter’s lush chambers above, as I make her twist and moan with delight. The thoughts may keep you warm.’
Then the Trytor was gone, and the torch spluttered ineffectually in its battle against the dark.
Chapter 44 Turgon
Turgon left Elstar lying in the dirt as he stepped over Anders’ bloody corpse.
‘This way,’ he hissed, ’I would be sure that ornate palace is his home, and the place he keeps his most precious treasure. Come let us lay our hands on it and begin our new future.’
‘And Elstar?’ asked Telldred, one of his closest associates.
‘Let him rest; he deserves the chance, after his efforts on our behalf,’ he answered in a loud voice.