by C S Marks
“How long ago was that?” asked Rogond.
Kamal shrugged. “I’ll admit, it’s been awhile since I heard the rumors. Let’s hope you still have time, as this will be a difficult journey. It’s a long road to Fómor from here; it will probably take you at least two months to accomplish it. And you will not make it using horses only. You will need dromadin to carry enough water to survive. I know that you expected to pay only for information, and not for advice, but if I were you, I would reconsider. I cannot even say for certain that your brother still lives, though he was alive when I left him in late spring. But I might ask myself whether I should not go back to my homeland, and save the lives of my friends.”
He looked pointedly at Galador. “None of his race will be welcome among the Corsairs, that’s certain. Save your friends and yourself. In so doing, you will increase the chance that the more worthy son of your father will live to carry on his name.”
Rogond listened to Kamal until he had finished speaking, and then gave him three pieces of gold, which was all he had remaining to him.
Kamal seemed satisfied. After all, Radeef will pay me again for the same service. He pocketed the gold with a cryptic smile before taking his leave.
Rogond and Galador sat for a while in silence. This was grim news. If Hallagond had fallen in with Corsairs, it was likely that he was either dead or beyond redeeming. At last, Galador spoke. “Rogond, I am your friend and shall ever be so…do not resent what I must say to you now. Is this a fool’s errand?”
“So it would seem,” said Rogond with sorrow in his eyes. “Still, I must try. I made a promise upon the grave of my father. This is my destiny...you must follow your heart. I will not blame you if you choose to take another path.”
“Gaelen will go with you, no matter your choice,” said Galador. “Nelwyn will not leave her. She also loves you, even as I do. We are inseparable, like it or not, and so we must prepare to follow you into peril. A promise is a promise, after all.”
Rogond looked gratefully into the eyes of his friend, but he didn’t know whether the unshakable friendship of the Elves actually made him feel better about the situation, or worse.
They decided to return to the house of El-morah, and to remain there until the afternoon waned, for inside it was cool and pleasant. “I suppose we should go and find our guide. He will surely have regained his senses by now,” said Galador.
“He will have, provided he has not returned for more drink,” replied Rogond. “Yet you are right. We need to return to the encampment before sundown. Will you go and make ready while I locate Sajid?”
Galador agreed, and they said their farewells to El-morah and his wife. Galador had purchased a quantity of the precious kaffa, for he was thoroughly enamored of it by now—it would taste so wonderful should one be forced to weather a cold rain. He smiled at the thought of huddling with Nelwyn under one cloak, sharing the warmth and cheer of the dark drink, and his heart was light as he left to prepare the horses.
Rogond received little aid from Haifa, for he claimed not to know of Sajid’s whereabouts, even as Rogond pressed him about it. “Haifa, you said your men dragged him off…where did they take him?”
Haifa continued wiping down the counter and would not look directly at Rogond. “I sent them to fetch him and they said he had gone. He must have come to his senses and left. I do not know where he is at present, and I can’t waste time over him.” It was apparent that Rogond’s welcome had run out. “Ask me no more questions, northlander. Look for your guide as you will, but don’t bother looking for him here. You will upset my customers.”
As Rogond turned to leave, Galador appeared suddenly in the doorway. He had been running, and was obviously agitated. “You have not located Sajid, have you?” he said. Rogond shook his head, a cold feeling creeping into his heart. “Well, you may as well stop searching. He’s gone. He has taken Siva, and the provisions she carried, and has left the oasis. The stable-man said he has been gone for hours. We have been deceived!”
Galador’s strong face was pale with dread, and the two of them shared the same thoughts. They needed to get back to the encampment at once! It was not long before they rode within sight of their friends, but to their dismay their greeting-signals went unanswered, for Gaelen and Fima lay still and silent upon the sand, and fair-haired Nelwyn, beloved of Galador, was gone.
Sajid had come upon the encampment earlier in the day to find that his plan had succeeded. Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Fima were in no condition to thwart him, for they had consumed a poison that he had placed in the water, and it had rendered them helpless. They would all die if the counter-agent was not given, but Sajid possessed only enough for Nelwyn and himself. He had placed the poison in the water before sunrise, and then added honey to disguise it. He had made a point of drinking some of it himself to allay suspicion, knowing that he could take the remedy at once, and had kept hold of it so that neither Rogond nor Galador would partake of it. Then, just before departing for the oasis, he had left it where Gaelen, Fima, and Nelwyn would be sure to find it.
He approached cautiously, for he feared the wrath of his victims, and if they were in the least bit capable, they would know of his guilt. Yet he found them as he had expected. Fima was curled up beneath the sunshade, his eyes open, looking as dead as Sajid had ever seen anyone look. The poison allowed him to see and hear, but not to move. Gaelen and Nelwyn lay where they had fallen—they had apparently been trying to get to the horses. Sajid was most impressed, for they would both have been in agony by then. Gaelen might actually have managed it, but she had not been able to ride. Finan stood protectively over her body. Sajid approached, and Finan stepped back, believing that he would aid Gaelen. But instead, Sajid bent over her, a wicked, triumphant smile on his face.
“Ah, little vixen! I see you’ve been laid low. Not so confident or capable now, are we? You’ll wish you had never threatened me before this day is out. And your lovely friend, who spurned my advances…I will take her to a man named Castor, and she will fetch a great price. She will never know freedom again, but will be under the domination of men for the rest of her life. You are perhaps the more fortunate one; the poison will kill you before the sun sets. I know you can hear me, and you can see me. Look upon my face, Elf, and remember it in the hereafter. I am the one who bested you!”
Sajid went then to Nelwyn and tended her. First, he gave her just enough of the remedy to spare her life, but not enough to revive her. Then he lifted her, gazing upon her beauty, marveling at the touch of his flesh upon hers. This was something he had greatly desired, but she was cold now—cold and without feeling. At first he nearly wept for her, but then he remembered her scorn, and grew stony again. “You should not have trampled my heart,” he whispered, knowing that she could hear everything that was said, but could neither move nor react to it.
He wrapped her in the silken sunshade, securing her with a beautiful silver cord he had purchased earlier, and placed her carefully across Gryffa’s back. He then ransacked the encampment, collecting anything of value that he could find, for he was a thief, after all. He took Fima’s purse, which was heavy with gold and silver coins. He also took the silver medallion that Fima wore about his neck, the gift of Lady Ordath for his services as Lore-master, and the two jeweled daggers he had won from wagering.
“I should make haste,” he muttered, “for I will need to be far away by the time the others return. I will be pursued, but there will be no success in tracking where I am going.” He took Siva’s bridle-reins and made ready to mount, but as he looked back upon Gaelen’s sad, still form a thought struck him. What if she manages to survive, somehow? She will hunt me down until the end of her days, as will they all, and I fear her… He had not been able to resist gloating over her, and now Gaelen knew too much. She knew where Sajid was taking Nelwyn, and why. If they managed somehow to revive her, they might actually succeed in finding him.
He led Siva and Gryffa over to where Gaelen lay unmoving in the sand. Finan threaten
ed the other horses, but even though he was suspicious, he allowed Sajid to approach. He truly thought this man would aid Gaelen as he knelt beside her.
Sajid spoke in a soft voice filled with malice. “I’m sorry, little vixen, but you must die now. You know of my plans, and I cannot suffer even the remotest chance that you will live to tell others of them. I have great faith in my poisons, but…well, you never know.” He placed his hand on her forehead to steady her, intending to draw his dagger and cut her throat. She looked into his eyes, knowing that he would kill her in a moment. The poison had dulled them, yet her spirit shone forth as she focused on him: No! You cannot take my life now…not until Gorgon Elfhunter has fallen!
Sajid started back, for he read these thoughts as clearly as if they had been shouted in his ear. He was shocked, and even more afraid of her. As he drew forth the bright dagger, Finan abruptly came to life, lunging toward him with teeth bared, as another thought burst unwanted into his mind:
You dare not take her life! You cringing, pathetic creature…that privilege is reserved for the Elfhunter alone! Stay your hand, you miserable excuse for a descendant of worms!
Sajid did not know how to react, and as he looked into Gaelen’s now-bright eyes they seemed to change. The pupils, which had been widened from the poison, constricted into tiny black dots. An evil power suddenly seemed to radiate from her, and Sajid gave a startled cry as the hand that held her forehead burned with it. He drew it back quickly, dropping the dagger. The horses screamed and ran back from her, Finan shaking his head in confusion.
Sajid gasped, weakened by the power that had flowed into him. He tried to stand, but he was dizzy and sick for a few moments, so he just closed his eyes, trying to breathe slowly until his head cleared. What in the name of all that was holy had just come over her? He had never before experienced such pure, raw hatred. He staggered to his feet, turning away from her, nearly retching with terror. He would not touch her again, and for a time his dreams would be haunted by visions of a huge, terrible, dark creature, powerful and vicious, laughing as it swung a bright sword to take his head.
By the time Rogond and Galador arrived, Sajid and Nelwyn were long gone. Galador searched frantically for Nelwyn, but when Gryffa and Siva were both missing, he knew the truth. Rogond had carried Gaelen into the shade. She had been lying in the open for hours, and was now in desperate need of water. Had Finan not been standing over her, she would have died already. Her body was cold despite the afternoon heat, and Rogond at first thought her dead, crying in grief as he knelt beside her. She did not appear to be breathing, yet his fingers searched her throat and found the faint fluttering of her heart. He held her close, trying to warm her, nearly weeping in fear for her.
Sajid had thought both Gaelen and Fima would be dead by sunset, but he had underestimated both of them. Fima was also stone cold and barely breathing, but dwarves resist poison even better than Elves, and both races are hardy when compared with men. Still, the poison was stronger than they were. The only thing their hardiness would gain was a longer time spent in dying.
Rogond knew that somehow Fima and Gaelen had been poisoned, as neither had sustained any wound or injury and they obviously suffered from the same affliction. He picked up the water-skin, which lay forgotten in the sand, and held it to his nose, detecting the scent of honey.
His eyes darkened as he thought of Sajid, who had apparently poisoned all three of his friends, and then had deceived everyone with false drunkenness so that he could return unaware and take Nelwyn away…to what end? Rogond did not wish to consider it. He heard Galador preparing to ride; obviously he wanted to go after Nelwyn at once.
He left Gaelen for a moment and approached Galador, whose expression told that he was both frantic and furious. He was barely rational, and Rogond would need to speak softly, controlling his own panic. “Galador, we cannot go after Sajid. He has been gone for hours, and we will not be able to track him in the sand. We must get Fima and Gaelen to the oasis, where they might be healed. They will both die if we do not…Nelwyn is in no danger, for if Sajid meant to kill her he would not have taken her. Please, my friend, I know you are distraught, but I need you…Gaelen and Fima need you.”
Galador stopped moving as he listened to Rogond’s words, standing still and silent until his friend had finished. Then he turned toward him, and Rogond could see the terrible mix of emotions welling within. “How can you say she is in no danger? I must go after her! She is my only love, and he has taken her. Do you not understand? I will die rather than let him take her. You would do the same had Gaelen been taken. I…I’m sorry.”
He vaulted onto Malvorn and charged from the encampment, turning a deaf ear to Rogond, knowing he had to save Nelwyn whatever the cost. The former pack-horse did his best, legs churning in the sand, but he was not made for speed. As Galador rode, the realities of his situation began to creep through the panic that had obscured them. He would never catch Siva, who was far swifter than Malvorn. There had been tracks leading from the encampment, but, as Rogond had predicted, these had faded once the winds blew across the open desert.
Sajid could easily evade him, for he knew the land, and he was clever enough to lay a false trail. He was hours ahead, on a swifter horse that bore a lighter rider and more provisions. Galador carried very little with him, and he would not long survive should he lose his way.
His quest for Nelwyn was doomed to fail, and while he ran off blindly into the desert, Rogond was contending with Gaelen and Fima, who were barely alive. Rogond would never forgive him if they died, and for that matter, neither would Nelwyn. Galador pulled the sweating, panting Malvorn to a halt, and stood still for a moment. The sun had set and the moon was rising; if he was not careful he would lose his way completely. He cried out with grief and frustration as he turned Malvorn back, knowing that Rogond was right. They would save Nelwyn, but not on this night. Galador vowed that Sajid would suffer the most painful death at his hands should Nelwyn be harmed, and it was these black thoughts that filled his mind as he rode back to the encampment.
Rogond was trying to secure Gaelen and Fima so that he could take them back to the oasis. Finan, who normally did not suffer the touch of men, seemed to know that Rogond was trying to aid Gaelen. He stood placidly while Rogond lashed her to his back. Fima had been secured upon Eros already, and now Rogond mounted with some difficulty, holding Finan’s tether. Eros and Finan were not friends, and they pinned their ears and lashed their tails. “Stop it, Eros! This is not the time,” said Rogond. Eros quit fidgeting and lashing his tail, but kept his wrinkled nose in the air.
“Here. Give him to me,” said Galador, as he approached Rogond unaware.
“Galador! Thank the stars you have returned! I really cannot manage this task alone.” Rogond handed Finan to Galador. Malvorn, who was a gelding, had no difficulty with Finan.
“I regretted leaving you, though I know you would have managed somehow,” said Galador. “But you are right. I…I just had to realize it myself.”
They started back toward the Chupa with all the speed they could safely manage, releasing Réalta so that he could follow them as he might. Rogond turned to his friend, tears of gratitude standing in his eyes. “What convinced you to come back?”
Galador’s face was stony. “I realized that I could not prevail, and that Sajid held the advantage. I would have run off blindly and gotten lost, and I cannot help her if that happens. And…I came back for you, and for them.” He indicated Gaelen and Fima.
Rogond saw the pain in his friend’s face, and he tried to reassure him. “There will be time later to find her. The horse-trader said that…that many would covet her. No one will want to kill her, Galador. We will find her, I swear it!”
“What horse-trader? What did he say about Nelwyn?”
Rogond realized that Galador did not know of Radeef’s warning, and he was abashed. “When Fima and I rode out to recover Gaelen’s brooch, the horse trader warned us that many would covet Nelwyn. He said that she woul
d bring a high price in the…in the slave-markets. He told us then to keep watch over her.”
“Why did you keep this from me?” cried Galador in indignation. “Perhaps I would have been more vigilant! Are you my friend, or no?”
Rogond replied, “I am. You have been most vigilant. The trader did not tell us anything that you did not know already, and you have safeguarded Nelwyn faithfully. You left her in the encampment with Gaelen and Fima because you thought she would be safe. You did nothing to further Sajid’s cause. I, on the other hand…”
Rogond could not speak further. He felt a terrible responsibility for all that had befallen. This entire quest was undertaken on his behalf, Sajid had joined them on his approval, and he had fallen easily into the deception. The warnings of Radeef, and of Hamir, echoed in his mind, filling him with guilt. He was as unhappy in that moment as he could ever recall.
Galador took a deep, shuddering breath. He had not considered Rogond’s feelings, in fact he had thought of no pain but his own. He tried to look into Rogond’s eyes, but Rogond stared fixedly ahead as he rode. Galador knew what he would see in them. There would be guilt, desperation, and fear for Gaelen and Fima. If any of the Company died, there would be no forgiveness.
Galador nodded grimly and put his own pain aside, turning all his efforts to the aid of his friends. In truth, Galador wanted Gaelen at his side when he finally went in pursuit of Nelwyn, for she would hunt Sajid without rest, even as he would, and in the end the wretch would wish that they had left him to die in the desert so long ago.
Many miles away, the aforementioned wretch had dismounted from Siva and was now attending to Nelwyn. He carefully drew the silk back from her face, noting with some regret the dullness in her beautiful eyes. He had given her more of the remedy, but he had combined it with a sleeping-draught. Sajid had learned from the apothecary in the Sandstone that if one wished to save the life of someone who had taken this poison, it would be a courtesy to add something to dull the agonizing pain of recovery. Nelwyn had been in considerable pain for several hours now, but she was only able to make small sounds, and she still could not move, for she was restrained. The sleeping-draught had dulled her awareness, which was fortunate. Sajid knew that restraining her would be beyond him if she regained her senses, and in spite of his resentment of her, he did not wish to see her in agony.