by C S Marks
“Were she in a tent with the Ballali, she would be dead now! They would not take the humor in this gesture. You had better control her, or you will lose her.”
Gaelen rose to her feet and went to retrieve her blade, pausing to look Sajid in the eye as she did so. “There was no humor in the gesture. I am going out into the air, for you are unwashed and you have the reek of fear about you. I have never found that scent appealing.” She bowed to her friends and disappeared into the dark.
Rogond turned to Sajid. “You should know better than to suggest that anyone here would control Gaelen, or anyone else in this Company,” he said. “You will get on better with her if you persuade, rather than demand or insist.”
“I think it’s too late for Gaelen to get along with Sajid, no matter what he does from now on,” said Galador. “Don’t feel bad…it isn’t easy to get along with her sometimes, especially when she has decided not to trust you, as I fear she has done.”
“I don’t feel bad at all,” replied Sajid in a false, soothing tone, “for it will not be me who lies dead at the hands of the Ballali. My survival doesn’t depend upon whether she lives or dies by ignoring my advice.”
“Ah! But that is where you are wrong. Your survival depends very much upon it,” said Fima, resting his hand upon the broad axe that lay at his right side. “If I were you, I would do all I could to ensure the safety of everyone in the Company, even those you dislike the most. Make no mistake about it.” Then he chuckled, looking over at Rogond. “Oh, yes, Aridan, you had better set yourself to the task of controlling Gaelen at once. As if!”
Rogond, for once, did not smile back at him.
Nelwyn had noticed the looks on some of the spectators at the horse-yards. They were, as Sajid had said, most unfavorably impressed; the black looks on some of them could only be described as murderous. Nelwyn was suddenly afraid for Gaelen; she excused herself, and went in search of her.
Gaelen was not difficult to find, as there was no mistaking the mellow, thrush-like quality of the voice rising above the Settlement until it mingled with the countless stars. She sat near the well marking the center of the plateau; it was the Sandstone’s main water source, and the supply was so rich that it actually flowed, cold and clear, into a pool that had been lined with marble and planted about with flowering shrubs and trees. No doubt the sound and smell of the water and growing things had drawn Gaelen there, and now she sang in a voice that might have come from the Eternal Realm.
Nelwyn was suddenly overcome with the desire to leave all their adventures behind, and to see the Greatwood again. She sank onto the soft sand beside the marble pool, weeping quietly. A child of the forest, she found these strange desert lands counter to her nature in nearly every respect.
Gaelen stopped singing, and Nelwyn knew that she had been heard. She wiped her tears away, trying not to weep again, and faced Gaelen with an expression of false cheerfulness, but it was too late. Gaelen wrapped her arms around her cousin in the embrace of a loving friend, as Nelwyn wept anew. “It’s no good trying to conceal your thoughts from me, for they are my thoughts as well. This is altogether a wretched place, but we must endure it until it is safe to return home. I promise you that I will do all in my power to hasten that day.”
That would be the day Gorgon Elfhunter lies dead, thought Nelwyn with a shiver. It could just as easily be Gaelen, or Galador, or even me who lies dead before that monster. The two cousins sat together, both of their spirits taken with a sudden chill.
Gaelen began to sing again, hoping to calm herself. Folk began to gather, drawn to the song, for it was a fine night to be out walking. Gaelen did not appear to notice them as they stood mesmerized by this stranger with the eyes and voice of an angel. She had spread her cloak on the ground beside her, and was somewhat surprised when people began to drop coins onto it, smiling at her and bowing. She sang softly until nearly dawn. When she finally grew weary and made ready to return with Nelwyn, she had collected twenty silver pieces, as well as about fifty of copper. There was also a finely-made brooch of copper in the shape of a running horse, and three strips of parchment inscribed with some strange symbols Gaelen did not recognize. She pocketed them, intending to show them to Fima and Sajid, when she looked up to behold Rogond standing before her.
“Gaelen…soon the sun will rise, and I would speak with you before then. There are some things that I must say.”
She could see in his face that he was troubled, and she went to him, placing a hand on his arm. When she looked into his eyes, she knew why he had come. “You think I am being foolish with respect to Sajid’s advice,” she said. “You think I should shroud myself and be silent so that I may stay safe, isn’t that right? I thought you would understand the importance of remaining true to your nature.”
The disappointment in her voice stung Rogond’s heart. She had not expected anything but support from him, and now he would need to tell her things that she wouldn’t want to hear. She needs to be told them, nonetheless.
He guided her back to the edge of the marble pool, and they sat down together. “Gaelen, please know that I do understand the need to remain true to your nature. In truth, I would rather die defending you than have you resemble the Ballali in any way, but we must survive for a while in this place. I am very much afraid of this man, Asaad. Sajid says that anyone who threatens his beliefs, or the power he has over his followers, will simply disappear.”
Gaelen’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Sajid, and Rogond was forced to defend him again. “I know… Sajid is a loathsome wretch, but he has sworn to serve us, and as of this moment he has not led us astray. He is the voice of experience in these lands...the rest of us have none. I don’t expect you to be courteous, but could you at least try not to threaten him so?”
“Can we not acquire another guide?” she replied, as though she had not heard him. “What advice has Sajid given that could not be given by someone trustworthy? I know we needed him to guide us to the Sandstone, but may we now release him, and find a guide who is not as closely acquainted with snakes?”
Rogond was becoming frustrated—she wasn’t listening to the warning he was trying to give her. “Hamir mentioned that I would have trouble with you, but I defended you. I told him you were wise enough not to place yourself or the Company in jeopardy because of your pride and stubborn will. Was I correct, or no?”
Gaelen did not appear to take offense, but simply lifted an eyebrow at him. “You have not yet answered my question. May we not release the spider, and acquire another guide?”
For the second time since he had known her, Rogond spoke to her with an edge in his voice. “For once in your life, stop and think that there might be something more important than your prideful opinion. Galador is joking when he compares you to the Fire-heart, but right now your actions make the comparison quite an apt one!”
He knew she would not be able to ignore this—to be compared with Aincor Fire-heart in terms of willfulness was an insult of the highest order. She drew a deep breath and set her jaw. “I have not suffered as much humiliation in all the long years that I have been alive as I have since meeting Hamir,” she said, her words like measured bits of ice. “I am certainly not used to being subjected to scorn simply because of a fact of my birth that I cannot change. My gender is a part of my existence…it is not something that I wished for, or brought upon myself through my own actions. I have never been belittled or dismissed because of it...until now. These people would take away my most basic freedoms: the freedom to express myself, to be who and what I am, to be respected because of what I can and have accomplished. Here, you are free to walk about and do and say what you like. You may wear your normal clothing and carry weapons. You may speak and have your voice heard…you cannot know what I am feeling!”
Rogond placed his hands upon her shoulders, entreating her to look at him. “Do you think a man who was raised among Elves doesn’t know what it’s like to be looked down upon and underestimated? Your people do not hold the s
ame regard for men…you do not consider us to be your equals. Try to deny it! They meant well, but they could not hide their desire that I should be more like them. I was always a disappointment. And do you think I was ever asked for my opinion? It was only when I was taken to Mountain-home, and met with such folk as Lady Ordath and Fima, that I began to acquire a sense of my own worth. You cannot disparage the sutherlings entirely, for your folk are just as guilty of prejudice as they.”
Gaelen looked at him with wide eyes. “It must have been difficult,” she said gently, “but it is hardly the same. I know all too well the haughty and judgmental natures of certain Elves. I have been disparaged by them; even my mother looked on me in disappointment each time I cut my hair. I am considered undersized, and to be undersized among Elves is to be of lesser purity…of lower heritage. I have heard the words “eccentric” and “feral” used frequently in reference to me. The King would rather have locked me in prison had he known of the depth of feeling I held for his son—I know the taste of Elvish scorn! Yet I suffered no loss of freedom, and I was given the chance to prove myself worthy. There are few now in the Greatwood who would hold me inferior.”
Here she paused, fire flickering in the depths of her eyes, remembering the self-righteous rage of the man in the marketplace when she had merely dared to speak to him. “This…this is different. It is darker, and uglier, and comes from the desire to control and suppress. It is not worthy of respect.”
“Is it so different?” said Rogond in a quiet voice. “Perhaps few in the Greatwood would hold you inferior, Gaelen, but you are an Elf, not a man.”
Gaelen looked away. “The distance between our kindreds was made in ancient times. Elves distanced themselves from men long ago, mostly because friendships are too painful—we could not bear the loss of our friends to sickness and death after so few years with us. Our hearts were broken many times over, and so we began to keep to ourselves. We did not make this distance out of scorn. And we have never sought to control you, but have ever allowed you to see to your own affairs.”
Rogond nodded. “An attitude for which we are ever grateful. I only wanted to point out that prejudice is often based on things over which we have no control—your gender, for example, or my race.
“Those who would harbor such prejudices are not worth your consideration,” she replied. “That’s my opinion of those of the Ravani who would take my self-respect. Some are more enlightened, and they have learned to appreciate Nelwyn and me. I would spend my efforts on folk like Lamas and Hari, and not hide and cower in dread of the evil ones.” She looked meaningfully at him, and her eyes were hard. “I know enough to be wary, Thaylon—I will not be easily taken.”
He wanted to weep as he looked into her resolute face, for he knew that she had no concept of just how easily taken she would be, and he knew that he would not convince her of it. If they were in a city infested with Ulcas, it would not be so, but Gaelen held men in higher esteem. She could not even imagine the evil of which some were capable.
“Just think on it, my love, and remember that we answer to a higher purpose. We are only here for a short while, and we must still defeat Gorgon Elfhunter. You know it. Do not allow your pride to set him free. If the Ravani take you, he will rejoice. Just think on it.”
“Not a day passes that I do not think on it, Rogond. And though this thought may not comfort you, know that Gorgon Elfhunter will not rejoice in my death at the hands of some narrow-minded sutherling, for it is his desire to achieve that death himself. Yet we must turn our thoughts elsewhere for now…tomorrow will you try to gain some news of Hallagond?”
“I will,” he replied, “and do not distract me. I will not turn my thoughts without first exacting your promise to safeguard yourself while we are in the Settlement. If that means occasionally following Sajid’s advice, will you not do it for my sake?”
Gaelen struggled for a few moments, her eyes distant. Rogond knew this would be a very difficult promise for her to make, and even more difficult to keep. Her hands clenched and unclenched several times as she fought with herself. Finally, she looked him in the eye. “For your sake alone, Thaylon, I will do as you ask. Just keep Sajid as far from me as possible. If he has advice to give, he can give it to you.” She let out a long breath, as though what she had just said had taken great effort.
Rogond embraced her, though she was at first stiff in his arms.
“Our time together will be brief enough without my taking foolish chances,” she said. “I will do all in my power to keep my promise, yet you need to know that there may come a time when I cannot. If that should happen, I will ask for your forgiveness in advance.” She was silent then, as Rogond held her for a few moments before releasing her.
They spoke no more until they were on their way back to their encampment. Gaelen wanted to turn Rogond from his fears, so she showed him the profits she had made just from singing. “They give money for everything here, and they expect to be paid for every service,” she said. “It’s a strange concept, at least in my world. What I cannot make or provide for myself is freely given to me without payment. I’m a valued hunter-scout, and the King makes certain my needs are met. I have only to serve him in return, performing my duties faithfully and well. Giving and receiving little pieces of metal have never been required of me.”
Rogond’s expression was difficult to read as he walked beside her. She had thought to entertain him by showing him the proceeds from her performance, but he seemed conflicted. “You and Nelwyn and Fima have certainly advanced our fortunes in the past few days,” he said. “A good thing, for I certainly could not have done the same. Folk would never pay me to sing for them.”
Gaelen smiled. “Yet, if they could hear you sing, they might pay you to stop!” Singing did not number among Rogond’s talents, and he was well aware of it. Yet, to Gaelen’s surprise, he remained serious, and did not smile back.
He needed rest after his watchful night, so he lay upon his woolen mat with Gaelen curled up beside him. She rested her head upon his arm and, as she gently caressed his strong chest and shoulder, she thought she knew the source of his concern. Tomorrow would begin a time of celebration in the Settlement. There would be games and a festival in the marketplace. Nelwyn and Galador were hoping for an archery tournament, for they would almost certainly win prizes, adding to the Company’s now comfortable coffers.
Rogond had not thought of his youth in many years, and he had just spent time recounting the tale of being raised among folk who might have considered him to be of lesser worth. He had not contributed anything to the Company’s wealth as yet. Now he was having difficulty sleeping, as his thoughts turned in his mind. Perhaps he truly was of lesser worth. What skill would he have that would be of value in this place?
Gaelen sensed his insecurity, and her words soothed his heart. “Thaylon, do not be troubled. You do not need to prove yourself to me, or to anyone. You lead the Company, and you have led us well. It is we who must provide for you. Do not be troubled, for you have my heart. You have exacted a promise from me that no living Elf could have done. Is that not enough?”
He turned to meet her gaze, his grey eyes soft with affection. “It’s more than I could ever have hoped for. Yet I still must contribute something…perhaps the games will provide an opportunity.”
“If there is a spear-throwing competition, I will need to restrain Fima from wagering his entire fortune on you, for you will be certain to win and it will only encourage him,” said Gaelen. “Tomorrow, we shall see. I’m certain you will find a way to show your worth if you feel you must, but I need no further proof of it.” With those words, she gave herself to him in loving embrace, transporting him to a realm where he could forget all about his uncertainty.
Hallagond and his companions had made their way to the Upani oasis, known in the common-tongue as the “Darkwater”. There were actually two water sources at the oasis, and it was wise to know which was safe and which was not, for to drink from the wrong one was most
unwise. The water flowed from deep below ground, and was wholesome both to the eye and to the taste, but it contained a poison that would bring slow death. If men or beasts drank of it, and then filled their water-containers such that they continued for several days, they would sicken and eventually die. It was called the Darkwater because it blackened the inside of the mouth if taken in enough quantity. Such a sign meant death would soon follow unless the counter-agent was given immediately, and even then, the outlook for any but the strongest men was not hopeful.
The other water source flowed from nearer the surface, warm and murky. It needed to be strained through silk to be drinkable, yet it would not sicken provided the fine particles were removed. Hallagond knew the peril of drinking unfiltered desert water over time; sand would collect and settle in a man’s entrails, causing great pain. If a remedy was not given, the man would die, for he would not be able to eat or drink for the pain, and he would die of thirst and starvation with a swollen belly full of sand. Hallagond had learned this lesson the hard way. Fortunately, one of his companions knew the signs and rode a great distance to acquire the remedy, which was rare and very expensive. It was also most unpleasant! Now Hallagond carried a large square of a very close-woven silk with him always, and would never willingly drink unfiltered water again.
His associates had done well for themselves in the tent city. Several had enhanced their personal wealth through thieving and pick-pocketing, and they could now purchase what they needed. Hallagond still had the remainder of his winnings, and had purchased a quantity of inexpensive wine.
He and his companions were in the process of drinking themselves into a stupor when a strange man approached, bowing, with his empty hands in plain sight. Azori and Azok, the two brothers who led Hallagond’s band of thieves, were immediately suspicious, and their hands strayed to their weapons. The Darkwater was known as a den of vipers; wayfarers who knew the Upani would stop only long enough to water themselves and their beasts before moving on.