"Oh, I love parties," said Beau enthusiastically.
"Of needs ye must work," said Jaith, "for e'en in this 'tis share and share alike."
Tip nodded. "Gladly," he replied, then glanced at his lute in the corner. "Will there be music?"
Seena nodded. "That and dance."
"Then sign us up," said Beau, smiling broadly. "When do we work and when do we play, and what would you have us do?"
"Ye may take labor on the first night with me," said dark-haired Elissan. "On nights two and three we shall play." She smiled at Beau and winked at Tipperton, and still Tip blushed, for he yet recalled the night she had stepped into the bathing room and he standing there in the tub, blinded with soap and all unclothed.
Over the next week and some, as the days fled and the new moon slowly grew, the grim air of war was alleviated somewhat by knowledge of the coming celebration. Too, a warm wind blew up from the south, and much of the snow thawed in the deep-notched glen, though it clung stubbornly to the heights of the Grimwall. Even so, all took the melt within the vale as a sign of the spring to come. Finally, the three days of banquet came, and on the first of these days, Tip and Beau were assigned the kitchen task of running and fetching, while others tended the fires, and yet others prepared fish and game and vegetables, while still others cooked. A full third of the Elves were in some manner preparing the celebration for the others to enjoy. On the morrow and the next, another third and a third after would do the same, and those who worked this eve would celebrate in turn.
At last the sun set, with the waxing half-moon in the sky. And Elvenkind gathered in the great hall. And with great pomp and formality, the dishes of food were paraded about the hall for all to see, trenchers laden with venison and trout and goose and leg of lamb, with creamed parsnips and peas, brown beans, and breads and sweet breads and honey and jellies and jams… and more. And now with the cooking done, Tip and Beau along with several others were assigned the task of keeping the wine and mead and pure mountain water flowing from pitcher to chalice, and it seemed as if every Elf, Dara and Alor alike, called on the buccen to serve, for Waerlinga in their small-ness and tipped ears and tilted eyes and bright smiles are much like the children of Elvenkind, and it had been long since any Elfchild had been seen. And so, thither and yon scurried the Warrows, bearing silver ewers of bloodred wine and filling the cups of soft-gazing Lian, some with tears in their eyes.
But finally the meal was over, and now commenced singing and dancing and the playing of harp and flute and lute and drum… and the epic telling of tales, though these sagas were spoken in Sylva. If it had not been for Elis-san's whispered translations, neither Tip nor Beau would have understood a word of aught said, even though their hearts pounded in response to the wide-rolling words.
On this night Jaith sang a song so heartrending that all in the hall wept, even the Warrows, though they knew not a single word sung.
At last the celebration ended, and Tip and Beau helped with the cleaning, and dawn stood in the eastern sky when they fell into bed at last.
On the second night of celebration, Tip and Beau dressed in their raiment, silken vestments o'er all. Yet as they made ready, there came a tap on the cottage door, and Phais stood outside. "I am to escort ye to the clearing, for this is the eve of the day when light and dark exactly balance one another, and there the celebration begins."
Tip and Beau were led through the pines, and they could see a glowing spectrum of candlelit paper lanterns hanging from branches ahead. They came to a snow-covered meadow, red and blue and yellow and green lambency in trees ringing 'round. All Elves were present, those who could be spared, for some yet stood march-ward on the bounds of the vale, and others watched over Dhruousdarda to the west and Kregyn Pass to the north. Yet this night Loric and Arandar were present as were both Gildor and Vanidor-the two so like one another that only someone who had known them a long while might be able to tell which was which.
Dark-haired Elissan stood at one of the twin's side, while redheaded Jaith stood at the other's.
As Phais escorted Tip and Beau into the gathering, Loric came and offered his arm to the Dara, and together they accompanied the Waerlinga to a central point, where stood Talarin and Rael between two standards planted firmly- they bore the sigil of Arden Vale: green tree on grey field, the Lone Eld Tree standing in twilight.
Talarin glanced up at the gibbous moon nearing fullness. "Well and good, ye are here, and we would have ye join our observance of this special day, for spring strides onto the land and winter fades."
"What would you have us do?" asked Tipperton.
Rael smiled. "Pace with us our ritual."
"Bu-but," stammered Beau, "we don't know your rite."
Now Talarin stepped forward and held out a hand to each. "Just do as I do," he said, smiling.
Taking a hand of each Waerling, Talarin nodded to Rael. And she held up her hands and all in the clearing fell silent as all moved to a starting place, silks and satins rustling, leathers brushing in the quiet, Darai and Alori opposite one another, Darai facing north, Alori facing south. When movement ceased, Rael began to sing, or perhaps to chant, for it was something of each, and in this she was joined bit by bit by all Darai there.
Now Talarin took up the chant, or perhaps it was a song, and he too was joined by the Alori, each linking in seemingly at random, yet it was anything but.
And in the argent light of the silvery moon shining down on white snow, Darai and Alori began stepping out the turning of the seasons.
Singing, chanting, and pacing slowly pacing, they began a ritual reaching back through the ages. And enveloped by moonlight and melody and harmony and descant and counterpoint and feet soft in the silvery white, the Elves trod solemnly, gravely… yet their hearts were full of joy.
Step… pause… shift… pause… turn… pause… step.
Slowly, slowly, move and pause. Voices rising. Voices falling. Liquid notes from the dawn of time. Harmony. Euphony. Step… pause… step. Rael turning. Talarin turning. Darai passing. Alori pausing. Counterpoint. Descant. Step… pause… step…
And down among the shifting Lian and treading at Tala-rin's side, Tip and Beau were lost in the ritual… step… pause… step.
When the rite at last came to an end-voices dwindling, song diminishing, movement slowing, till all was silent and still-Darai and Alori once again stood in their beginning places: females facing north, males facing south. The motif of the pattern they had paced had not been random but had had a specific design, had had a specific purpose, and the same was true of the song, yet as to the overall design, as to the hidden intent, neither Tip nor Beau could say.
Yet they were exhilarated.
Now Talarin called for all to retire to the great hall, for food and drink and dance and song and story awaited them all. And amid song and laughter, to the hall they went.
Tip and Beau were given places of honor at the table just to the right of Talarin and Rael's dais, and once again the food was paraded 'round the hall, to the applause of all.
This night there was succulent wild boar, and duck and pheasant, and brook trout, and breads with honey and jellies and jams, and vegetables galore, and an assortment of nuts along with sweetmeats of crystallized fruit.
Mead flowed and wine and water and this night a ginger beer.
And Tip and Beau stuffed themselves as if they would never eat again.
And when the meal was done and the tables cleared-all but the drinking cups and pitchers of water and wine and ale-once again there were songs and singing, once again there were timbrels and strings and wind, and once again there were sagas spoken and chanted-and this night 'twas a ginger-haired, strapping Dara named Aleen, wearing leathers and bearing weapons, who whispered translations unto the buccen.
It was in the middle of "The Saga of Tugor and the Serpent's Eye" that the door swung wide and a bespattered Elf strode into the hall. Compact he was with dark hair and dark eyes, and a sword rode across his back.
The hall fell silent as his hard stride fell upon the wooden floor.
"Alor," said Talarin, standing at the Elf's approach, " 'tis not often one of the Dylvana graces this hall."
"I hight Eloran of Darda Erynian, yet I am come from Adonar these past four days."
"Adonar? Then thou hast ridden the in-between."
"Aye, the difficult crossing at the circle of stone."
Talarin raised an eyebrow. "Yet thou hast come here instead of riding unto thy Darda."
"I am sent on a mission, Alor Talarin, to bring thee tidings: Adon has sundered the way from Neddra to Mithgar."
A collective gasp rippled throughout the chamber, and Beau looked at Tip wide-eyed. "What does this mean?"
Robust Aleen sitting next to them clenched a fist and growled, "It means Adon has taken up the challenge and Gyphon's invasion will cease."
Chapter 17
Amid the astonished murmur among the Elves, wide-eyed, Tip asked, "How can he do that?"
Aleen looked at him. "Do what, wee one?"
"Sunder the way between."
"He is Adon," pronounced Aleen, as if that were enough.
Beau nodded and turned to Tip. "She's right, you know."
Tip frowned and shook his head. "But, I mean, what- how-what power-?"
Tip's unformed question fell unanswered as Talarin called for silence. Once again the Lord of the Hidden Vale turned to Eloran, but it was Rael who asked, "Is there more, Alor Eloran?"
"Aye," replied the Dylvana. "I am also come recently from High King Blaine: Modru of Gron has started a wide war."
Again a murmur swept through the assembled Elves, this one low and angry, for Eloran's words were from the High King himself and at last directly confirmed what had only been presumed true till now. Yet the undertone quickly subsided as Eloran continued: "A Horde of Foul Folk has cast down High King Blaine's garrison at Challerain Keep-"
"Oh, my," exclaimed Beau as shock rippled across the gathering.
"-and King Blaine and his small company now fight in retreat, hoping for others to join in the combat. Ere the garrison fell, the High King lit the balefires himself, and they call for an alliance of Men, Elves, Dwarves, and Mages to oppose this great threat."
Once more whispered comments purled throughout the hall, but Beau turned to Tip and querulously said, "Hoy, now, he's left us completely out. I mean, what about Warrowkind? Does the King not know we exist?"
"Ha!" barked Aleen. "He also left unnamed many others, my friend: the Hidden Ones, Utruni, Children of the Sea, Phaels, and more. Yet fear not, for although ye and they are not named, still all are Free Folk and will count in the end."
Talarin held up a hand to quell the unrest, and slowly the murmur died. "Eloran, I would see thee in my chambers. But first thou dost need rest, refreshment, and meal." Talarin motioned to Vanidor, then turned again to Eloran. "In eight candlemarks. neh?"
As Vanidor stepped to the Dylvana's side, Eloran canted his head forward in agreement, and then followed Vanidor from the hall.
Talarin called to the gathering: " 'Tis nought we did not already presuppose; Modru, Gyphon's chief agent, has begun a war for dominion o'er Mithgar. Yet Adon stands with the Free Folk, and we shall prevail. Let us on this turn of the season pledge our hearts unto His cause." Talarin raised his chalice, and all stood and held their cups aloft. "For Adon and Mithgar," he cried.
And as one voice came the collective response, For Adon and Mithgar, Tipperton and Beau joining in.
Now Talarin signaled the harper, and the harp rang out a stirring song, the notes belling across the gathering to kindle hearts aflame. Tone and voice, melody and lyric, voices rose up in accompaniment, Lian unified in harmony. In Sylva they sang, and neither of the two buccen understood a word, yet following Aleen's hurried whispers they sang along as well:
[In Lianion, the First Land, in Adonar so fair…]
And when the song came to an end, with a great shout all raised their cups and quaffed the contents down, and then without a further word, Lian began filing from the hall.
Tip and Beau turned to go, but Rael whispered to Lord Talarin and he in turn called unto them. And when they stepped unto the dais, he said, "As representatives of thy folk, I would have thee join me in my chambers, for we may have much to discuss and I would have ye advise me."
Taken aback, Tip glanced at Beau to find that buccan as astounded as he. Tipperton turned once again unto Talarin and said, "Well, sir, I cannot say we speak for all our folk, yet we would be honored to serve you in any way we can."
"Indeed, yes," said Beau, nodding vigorously.
Talarin smiled. "In eight candlemarks, then, come unto my quarters."
"… not only the Foul Folk but perhaps the Lakh of Hyree and the Rovers of Kistan as well," said Faeon.
"Thou art right, my jaian," said Vanidor, taking a sip of tea.
They sat in a parlor in Talarin's quarters-Talarin, Rael, Faeon, Vanidor, Gildor, Eloran, Tip, and Beau.
Tip looked up at Faeon. "I don't understand."
"The Kistanians and Hyrinians-they are under the sway of Black Mages, acolytes of Gyphon," said Faeon. She turned to Rael. "Is it not so, Ythir?"
"Aye, 'tis true," replied Rael, "or so Aravan tells."
"Aravan?" asked Beau.
"One of the Lian," said Rael. "He sailed the seas when Rwn was yet an isle."
"Oh." Beau nodded and looked at Tipperton, who sadly shook his head, for both buccen knew of the destruction of that place. After all, it was a cataclysm marking the end of the First Era and the start of the Second.
"Aye, for thousands of seasons Aravan traveled the world, sailing the seas in his splendid ship, the Eroean. But when Rwn fell, Aravan left the sea behind. And though the destruction was Durlok's doing-Durlok, a Black Mage and votary of Gyphon-Aravan deemed that Gyphon Himself had had a hand in the devastation, though I understand Gyphon humbled Himself before Adon and declared He had nought to do with such-'twas a renegade acolyte, he claimed."
Tip held out his cup and Gildor refreshed the buccan's tea. As Tip added sweet honey, he asked, "What has this to do with the Hyrinians or the Kistanians?"
"Aravan tells that these two nations worship Gyphon in their temples and towers," replied Rael. "And so, aught concerning a war 'tween Gyphon and Adon will involve them as well."
"Hmm," mused Beau. "So you think they're in this fight, eh?"
All eyes turned to Eloran. He shrugged and set aside his cup, then said, "Most likely, wee one. Most likely. Though when I left Adonar we had no word on whether or no they were engaged or even on the move."
"Say now," said Tip, "just where is this, uh, in-between crossing you made in coming here?"
Eloran glanced at Talarin and, at a nod from the Alor, said, "Four days south of here lies the circle of stones… in Lianion, the land thou doth name Rell."
"Lianion?" Tip turned to Rael. "Isn't Lianion what we sang about tonight? Lianion, the first land? I thought that was on the High Plane, in Adonar to be precise."
Rael smiled. "Aye. Lianion is indeed in Adonar. Yet when first we came unto Mithgar, we made the crossing at the circle of stones, and the realm we came into was called Lianion as well, for it was the first land we trod upon in this world. 'Twas only later it became known as Rell."
Tip nodded and then turned back to the Dylvana. "Tell me, Lord Eloran, did you see any Foul Folk on your four-day journey through Rell?"
"Movement in the distance at times," replied the Elf. "Yet whether or no 'twas Foul Folk, I cannot say, for my mission unto Arden Vale was urgent, and I did not turn aside to investigate."
Tip sighed and glanced at Beau, as if to say, We should have gone south and 'round.
But Beau gave a slight shake of his head, wordlessly replying [No, bucco; wait till the thaw].
"When dost thou plan on returning, Eloran?" asked Talarin.
"Mayhap tomorrow."
Rael shook her head. "Nay, Eloran. Rest instead. Tarry a day or so." The Dara took
up the small iron container lying on the table at hand and opened the clasp. "I feel that something looms. What, I cannot say." Carefully she unwrapped the crystal from its black silk as all remained silent. Deeply she looked into the pellucid stone, and no one moved, and Beau's mouth gaped circular and wide in bated anticipation. Long moments passed, but at last she sighed and looked up and shook her head. "Nothing," she murmured, and pent breaths were released.
Talarin reached out and touched her hand, then turned to Eloran. "Dara Rael is right: thou shouldst tarry awhile and rest, for alert eyes are needed in these times."
Eloran nodded. "A day or so," he replied. "But then I must go. First to the circle of stones, and thence across Adonar unto the oaken ring, where I will ride the in-between and back unto Mithgar."
"Ah, the Weiunwood," said Gildor. "Well do I like that shaggy forest."
"There's an in-between crossing in the Weiunwood?" asked Beau, his eyes wide.
"Aye," affirmed Eloran.
"Oh, my. Then you had better watch out where you ride, for I have foraged there and some of that wood is, um, 'closed.' "
Tipperton looked at Beau. "Closed?"
Beau nodded. "Places with an eerie feel, and you enter at your peril."
Eloran smiled. "Indeed, wee one, for in those places dwell the Hidden Ones, and they do make it so, and not all who set foot therein e'er come out again. The oak ring itself is within a place what thou dost name 'closed.' "
"And you plan on going there, to this oak ring?"
"Aye," agreed Eloran. "There I'll emerge. Yet fear not for me, for Elvenkind has permission to travel within."
Beau's mouth formed a silent.
Eloran turned to Talarin. "And from the ring I will ride to join King Blaine, wherever he may be found."
Talarin looked up from the floor. "When you reach him, say this unto the High King: Arden will rally to the cause and oppose Modru at every turn. Warn him as well that Draedani walk among the Foul Folk."
Eloran blanched. "Gargoni?"
Talarin gestured and Gildor replied. "Aye. Three of the Mandraki came through Kregyn a moon past. Amid a Horde they marched, though wide was the berth given.
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