by C S Marks
“Very far, I fear...hundreds of miles from here. And they are difficult miles. It will not be easy to persuade your friends to accompany me over such an arduous path.” She hung her head. “There is something else, Rogond—we of the Citadel are sworn not to reveal its location to any but the most trustworthy. The City has stood alone for nearly five hundred years, and for much of that time we welcomed any who would enter. But not all who came into our midst were of good heart, and eventually we became fearful of those who would destroy our way of life. We have worked long to preserve who and what we are, and to safeguard our legacy we are now somewhat wary of strangers. I am uncertain of how you would be received.”
This set Rogond back for a moment. “But, we are trustworthy, none more so,” he said. Then he remembered his brother. “At least for the most part…your people would have nothing to fear.”
“I know,” she replied. “Once I could have assured you that you would all be welcome, but it has been a long time. I don’t even know for certain that the Citadel still stands. And I don’t know how things may have changed in the many years I’ve been away.”
Tears started in her eyes as she said this, and Rogond could almost feel the heart-wrenching desire to see her home again. “I understand your quandary, yet it must be dealt with,” he said. “All in the Company must agree to this course, especially since it is long and difficult. Will you tell us the tale tonight?”
“I will,” said Bint Raed. “I can assure you none will have heard it before. When I have finished, if you are not intrigued, then I will go on alone. I truly hope you will agree to accompany me, for my chances as a lone woman making that crossing are small indeed, and I am neither young nor strong. Yet I will attempt it, for at this point in my life I have resolved to see my home again, or die trying.”
“Tell your tale then, and let’s hope it will not come to that,” replied Rogond, knowing that some members of the Company were fond enough of Bint Raed that they would never allow her to risk her life alone. He rose to his feet and stood before the little weaver-woman, offering one of his large hands in a gesture of reassurance. She took his hand and was comforted.
“Tonight you will hear the tale of the Silver City, where the glory of the lost realm of Tuathas still resides,” she said. “We need to put some miles in before then, for it is a long tale, and you will not wish it to be interrupted.” She smiled at him. “This is a great gift I will give to you, Rogond, for that which you thought lost will be found.”
Rogond lifted both eyebrows at her. “Well, I’m certainly intrigued already. Until tonight, then.” He bowed before her, put away his weapons, and went to assist Gaelen, who was seeing to the horses.
The Company gathered that night beneath the nearly-full moon. They had been promised a tale of great significance, and were prepared to be both enlightened and entertained. It was always a treat to hear a good story, and Fima, as always, had his ink and parchment ready, for he tried always to record what he heard. This evening’s fare would surpass all his wildest expectations. This tale was not fiction, it was history. Rogond and Hallagond took special interest, as Bint Raed would bring forth a missing piece of the lost history of the Tuathar. They sat side-by-side, their nearly identical grey eyes bright with anticipation, as Bint Raed began to speak.
“I know you’re likely to be familiar with the founding, waxing, and downfall of the great realm of Tuathas. You’ve learned of the ill fate of Duinar the Asarla, who was overcome by the wrath of the fire-mountains, and of the small remnant who escaped. I’m sure you know that the survivors founded the City of Dûn Bennas, as well as smaller settlements in the northlands. But you might not know of the fate of a ship that set sail from a different mooring, under the command of Salasin, the greatest lore-master of that time.”
“I know of Salasin,” said Fima. “He was thought lost in the cataclysm. Are you saying that he was spared?”
“There is no doubt of it,” replied Bint Raed. “When it became known that the fire-mountains would arise in wrath, and that the doom of Tuathas was likely, Duinar the Asarla thought he could quell the mountain and spare his beloved realm. He assured his people that all would be well, and so it would have been, but the eruption was far more extensive than Duinar or any of his scholars had predicted, and he was overwhelmed. It is said that he died trying to stem the flood of molten rock that buried the capital city and set the forests aflame.”
Everyone in the Company shuddered as they tried to imagine such a terrible thing, and even Bint Raed paused and bowed her head before continuing.
“Yet there were those who had prepared. The fire-mountains had arisen before, and when they first began to rumble, there were some who doubted the ability of Duinar to hold them back. They prepared ships so that some of their people might escape, and they loaded their animals with provisions and things precious to the people, as though to leave Tuathas. Many of their friends scorned them, for they obviously did not display the proper faith in Duinar, who had been sent by Aontar and was therefore infallible...alas that it was not so. Lore-master Salasin counted himself among them, for he had feared such a catastrophe for many years, and he knew what it would do to his beloved manuscripts and works of art.
As the ships prepared to bear the doubters from the realm, Salasin was dismayed, for even though he was offered a place on one of them, there was little room for the writings and artworks and other things precious to him. In his mind, the knowledge of Tuathas was its most vital and precious asset. Men could be replaced sooner than knowledge could be acquired.
Therefore, though Salasin was no mariner, he prepared his own vessel, placing into its hold as many of the writings and works of beauty that he could manage. You see, to Salasin, these things were more important than the lives of men. Yet many additional lives were spared because of him, for he carried nearly three score and ten of the most able and intelligent men and women of Tuathas, those who had not found places on the other ships.
“When the terrible doom fell upon Tuathas, Salasin escaped even as the others also set sail, though he was delayed. He left from a separate harbor, and was blown by a different wind. His ship was nearly lost in the dreadful rising of the sea, and those on board were helpless to guide it. It came ashore far from the lands that received the others—those who founded Dûn Bennas.
When Salasin’s ship made landfall, only forty souls remained alive. The entry into the harbor that now guards the Silver Fortress can only be made during a tempest of wind and high water, for it is blocked by rocks that are impassable otherwise. There would be no turning back, for the ship was no longer seaworthy. Luckily, many of the great stores of writings and beautiful works were spared.”
Fima was trembling with excitement, and Bint Raed could see that she would have no trouble in convincing him to go with her. “So…this place was founded upon written lore of Tuathas that was thought forever lost? I had heard rumors of such a place, but thought little of them.”
“Yes, and most of those treasures still survive today, or at least they had when I left. Of course, the people have added treasures of their own making since then. When Salasin realized that he and his people could never leave their new home, they decided to build a Great City. This took quite a lot of time, for there were few people to do the building. Yet more came, and bit by bit our numbers grew. Salasin lived to be very old, though he died before the City was truly completed. Of course, it has grown since then, but at the heart of it is Salasin’s great Library. It may be the most complete storehouse of the wealth of knowledge of Tuathas still in existence. That is Salasin’s legacy.” Bint Raed looked around, quite pleased to see the excited looks on the faces of the Company.
“This Great City…what is it like now, and what is its name?” asked Hallagond. This had opened up a whole new world for him.
“It is called Dûn Arian,” said Bint Raed, who then spent the next several hours describing the City and its populace in detail. The people were very diverse, and all were wel
come provided they obeyed the laws of the City and showed the proper respect for and devotion to learning. Much of the bloodline of the original founders remained; nearly all of the present families could trace their lineage directly back to Tuathas—but there were contributions to all families from other cultures and races. There was Ravani and Anori influence, as well as many others that had enriched the mixture.
“What about Elves? Are there Elves there?” asked Nelwyn in a hopeful tone.
“Alas, they have not made their way so far southward,” said Bint Raed, to Nelwyn’s obvious disappointment. “I wouldn’t doubt that you three have already traveled deeper into these southern lands than any others of your kind.” Nelwyn was crestfallen, but Bint Raed knew just how to cheer her.
“A great coastal forest surrounds the City, and the trees that grow within its walls are said to be among the tallest in the world. There are birds and flowers and fruits, and green things everywhere, and water aplenty…the sweetest and coldest you will ever have tasted.” At the mention of tall trees, Nelwyn forgot all about her disappointment.
“The Citadel of Dûn Arian is a haven for all that is enlightened and fair,” said Bint Raed. “There is music, art, science, and the study of numbers. Of course we are profoundly devoted to history and lore, as well as to poetry and philosophy. There is something to delight each one of you.
For all these years we have remained safe from enemies, guarded by the rocks and the harbor to the west, and the hard desert and hills to the east. Yet now I fear for our safety, for the Scourge is said to be making its way westward. I must return home, and soon, or my people will not be warned. They will never expect such an invading force, and the City may fall. That’s why I have been leading you there.”
“Completely understandable!” cried Fima, who found the thought of such savages destroying the lost lore of Tuathas unthinkable.
“Perhaps so,” said Bint Raed, “yet you must now choose. I intend to return to my home and warn my people of the approaching Scourge. You are being taken farther and farther from your homelands. This will be a long journey, and it will not be an easy one. There are many perils to be faced, yet the reward will be great should we succeed in gaining the City. You must decide whether to go with me or not. You must tell me by tomorrow night. Then, if you decide against it, I shall leave you.”
She sighed looking around at her companions. “I know that I should not try to sway your thinking, but know that regardless of your decision I will be trying to return home. My chances are very poor of making it on my own, and I need your help. Consider well.” With those words, she turned and left them to their own counsel.
It was nearly dawn when Estle found Hallagond sitting alone; she had gone looking for him, sensing his disquiet. At first he did not appear to notice her, sitting upon the sand with his chin resting on his crossed arms, which were laid upon his knees.
“Are you all right, Al-amand?”
She wanted to place a hand upon his shoulder, but thought she might startle him. He was not particularly fond of being touched, preferring to maintain his distance, and in that he was more like the northern folk. Sutherling men stood very close together, and were constantly touching and embracing and kissing one another.
The Elves were even more distant. Estle smiled inwardly as she thought of Galador being thrown into a group of enthusiastic sutherling men, being kissed and embraced and surrounded until he could no longer bear the impropriety of it. Of course, Gaelen and Nelwyn would not need to bear such good-natured smothering, for to touch a woman not your own wife was strictly forbidden. Probably a good thing for the sutherling men, thought Estle, for they would not long intrude upon Gaelen’s intimate space and survive.
Hallagond did not acknowledge Estle’s question at first, for he was deep in his own thoughts. All at once he seemed to come to himself, and his eyes lost their faraway look. “What do you want, Estle?” he asked. “Have you come to share counsel, or to give it?”
She hesitated for a moment before replying. “To share, if it will aid you,” she said. Estle had ever been his friend; she had come to his aid more than once, and he trusted her.
“Very well, then,” he said. “When they ask you which course you will take, what will you tell them? Will you go your own way, or will you follow the weaver-woman?”
Estle sighed. “To explain my choice, I must reveal some of my past. I have never told you much of my history, for we have stayed away from matters of personal nature.”
“Yes, and I have always appreciated your respect for my privacy,” said Hallagond. “Yet I would know your thoughts in this matter, if you would share them.”
“You are my friend, Al-amand, and I will not keep secrets from you, for I know you will respect them and safeguard them. The truth is that the Silver City was known to me before. My mother spoke of it when I was little. I wondered at first whether she was merely telling a tale to amuse me—a tale of a fair, enlightened realm where all things were good and beautiful—but then I saw in her eyes that it really existed. My mother knew of the Citadel because…because it was her home. She left it for love of a man, a Corsair, who was not welcome there. She could not return and face the disgrace of it, and so she never did. She died when I was young. Part of me has longed to find the Silver City ever since.”
“Your father was a Corsair? Long had I suspected as much, especially when I look at your two half-brothers, Azori and Azok, but you are different from them, Estle. Your mother’s nobility has left its mark on you...you have the eyes of the Tuathar.” Hallagond looked deep into Estle’s beautiful eyes; they had seen much of the ugliness of desperate men who had fallen from grace. Does she not deserve also to behold beauty? “Then you will go with the weaver-woman?” he said, his deep voice gentle and soft.
“I cannot help but feel that I am fated to do so. When Bint Raed began to tell her tale, it was as if she spoke only to me. My feet have been set on this course for a reason. You are at the heart of it; if you had not insulted Hassan I would not have been driven here.” She smiled. “Obviously, your stupidity was driven by the hand of destiny, and I suppose I owe you my thanks.” She kissed him lightly on one bristly cheek. “I wonder what it would be like to kiss an Elf? I have never touched my lips to the face of a clean-shaven man, though I suppose it would be similar to that.”
Hallagond smiled in the dim light of dawn. “Have you ever kissed the face of a young child? I suppose the skin of Elves is similar, though if you decide to try it, I would suggest you avoid using Gaelen as your example,” he said.
“Ha! As if I would lower myself to touch her,” said Estle in mock indignation. She grew serious, turning to Hallagond and placing her right hand upon his arm. “You have not said what your course will be. Will you go with us, or will you turn aside? Your brother will not leave you in either case—that is certain.”
Hallagond’s forehead wrinkled, his eyebrows drawing together in an expression that looked almost like a man in pain. “I also would see this great sight, and it would be most enjoyable to learn more of the history of my people, but I don’t know where my path should turn.”
“Never have you known such things,” said Estle gently. “Would you not remain with your friend Estle, who would rather not face this difficult journey without you? If we are fortunate enough to gain the City, I would share the wonders with you. I truly have no one else I can call friend, except my brothers, and I do not know whether I shall ever see either of them again. Will you not go for my sake?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, and the dread in his voice gave her pause. He turned to her in earnest, taking her right hand. “What I would say to you now you must not reveal. Do you agree?”
Estle nodded, dismayed by his urgency.
“Long ago I dreamed a terrible dream, more real than any in my experience. I was shown many things...much of death and of grief. It pains me even to recall it, and for a long time I had forgotten, but it has been slowly coming back. Estle, I saw the
silver towers of Dûn Arian in my vision, and the City was burning. I heard the screams of the people as they died.”
She felt him tremble as he said these words. “Was there anything more?” she asked.
“Yes. My father and brother came to me, and my brother said that I failed to turn the tide of destiny because I turned from it. The City fell because of me…because of my weakness.” He looked hard into her eyes. “Do you not see why I am having a difficult time with this choice?”
“Yes, I see. It was a terrible dream, Al-amand, but a dream only, and though they are sometimes meaningful, they do not always come to pass. It’s difficult to interpret this one, but it seems to me that you were meant to go with us to warn the people of the Scourge. Perhaps if you do not go with us, we will fail. If that happens, the Scourge will burn the City. Does that not seem most likely?”
“Perhaps it does, to those who know little of my history,” said Hallagond bitterly, “for they would assume that I would aid in the defense of the City. They would not understand that my misguided and unwarranted pride has brought about the deaths of those nearest to me. They would not know of the shame I bear.”
Estle soothed him with her hands and her voice. “They who truly know you know better. There is strength in you, though you would hide it with a veil of doubt. When I look upon you, I see a sad, strong man who has been made wiser by circumstance. I don’t care what has gone before, or what terrible thing lurks in your past. Al-amand, you are not forsaken, for…for I love you. I have tried to deny it, but my heart has known it for a while now. I love you, man of Tuathas, and will stand by you. No shame can change that. Go with me to the Citadel. Your friends need you, and I would not leave you. Please go with me, that I may attain both of the desires of my heart. Do not make me choose between them.”