by C S Marks
“You have asked me this question before, Tuathan,” said Galador. “I had no answer for you then, and I do not have one now. But I have noticed that, if Elves have a tendency to avoid dirt, men seem to attract it.”
They continued on past the mountains, making their way toward the Great Salt. There was very little of note that occurred, except on one dark night when they were astonished to see a fiery glow in the sky over the receding mountains. They heard a distant, booming rumble, and their beasts turned their heads briefly back before continuing on. Gaelen turned Finan around, staring at the ominous orange glow, tensing as a bright plume lifted into the heavens. A dark cloud seemed to spread across the stars, moving toward them. Bint Raed rode up to stand beside her.
“Thank heaven we are far away. Had we stood near to that eruption it might have taken us all.”
“What is that darkness blocking the stars?” asked Gaelen in alarm.
“It’s a cloud of ash,” said Bint Raed. “Your stars will be dimmed for a while, for the ash will hang in the air for a long time ‘ere it settles. But be of good cheer, for whereas the stars will not be as brilliant, the sunrises most certainly will be.”
“I have never seen a mountain on fire until now,” said Gaelen, awed by what she had seen.
“When the sun rises, you will see the sky on fire,” said Bint Raed, “and you may yet see another fire-mountain before we reach our journey’s end.”
“One is enough, really,” said Gaelen, though she was intrigued.
Bint Raed had been right about the sunrise; it was the most brilliant the Elves had ever beheld. Hallagond explained that such fiery red skies were seen only when a large quantity of dust or ash hung in the air, and that such things were brought on by storms of wind, as well as by the belching of ash by fire-mountains. “Let’s hope that the sunsets are of a more ordinary nature,” he said grimly. “Our path lies to the west, and the sort of storm that enflames the evening sky is exactly the sort we hope to avoid.” Hallagond knew there would be windstorms, but they would hopefully not be of the sort that would kill.
The land about them was stony, with tall rocks and ridges, so there was some shade. Bint Raed spoke very little to her companions for the next few days. She was trying to concentrate on the speed, direction, and distance traveled so that she could keep her bearings. It was important that they cross the salt plains where they were not as wide, for they represented terrible heat and thirst, and the salts were hard on the feet of both the horses and the dromadin. “We will rest very little in the crossing,” she said, as the plain could now be seen as a wide, featureless expanse of white with only the occasional ridge of stones. These looked like dark ships upon a flat, pale sea.
“It almost looks like a lake filled with water,” said Nelwyn, who naturally knew better.
“So it was, long ago,” said Bint Raed. “Actually, it was more like to an inland sea than a lake. There are a few creatures that make their home here. I have been told of snakes and lizards, but I have never seen them. It is an odd creature that can live where nothing grows.”
“Indeed,” said Nelwyn with a shiver. She was not looking forward to traversing the Salt.
They sheltered in the shade of stones for the last time before the crossing would begin; they could not long linger in such places, for the shaded areas were alive with horrid black gnats that fed on blood. The horses could not bear it—swarms of the tiny insects blackened their ears and nearly drove them mad. Gaelen reached back behind one of her own ears to crush her tormentors, and her hand came back wet and sticky with blood. She moved back into the sun with Finan, for the gnats would remain in the shade and would not follow.
She decided that it might be a good time to test the heat-turning properties of the fire-cloak. She drew it forth from her bag; it shimmered and flashed, seeming glad of its freedom as she draped it across Finan’s head and neck, drawing part of it across her own head and shoulders. The result was both immediate and impressive. The sun was turned by the cloak so completely that even the ground that it shaded became cooler. Gaelen and Finan were much more comfortable.
“Does that thing actually help?” asked Estle, who was red-faced from the heat. Her fair complexion did not serve well, and she was in some distress.
“It does,” replied Gaelen, who was by now feeling quite guilty about it.
“Good. At least some of us are comfortable. I’m relieved to see that garish garment has a use other than in calling attention to oneself.”
“Would you care to share it?” asked Gaelen, offering Estle a place under the cloak. “I am now quite cool, and have no further need of it for a while. At least try it and see if it will aid you…your face is red, and I fear the heat is robbing you of your strength. Come then, if your pride will allow it.”
“How kind of you to allow me to share space with your horse,” said Estle, though she appreciated the gesture more than she would have Gaelen know.
“Actually, Finan trusts very few of your race, and I doubt he would allow you to share space with him,” said Gaelen. “He will need to do without.” She called to Fima, Nelwyn, and Rogond; four people could shelter beneath the cloak without hardship. Gaelen stood with Galador, who would take his turn with Hallagond and Bint Raed. The bandits were camped on the other side of the ridge, which was just as well. Gaelen didn’t want them to know of the existence of the fire-cloak.
No one would ever forget the crossing of the Salt. The hard west winds raised fine, white grit, bringing discomfort to eyes, lungs, and unprotected skin. When the wind calmed, the heat was terrible, and there was the ever-present glare. At night the salt gave up its heat quickly, and though the travelers donned extra garments, they shivered in the chill. Fima was profoundly affected by these extremes, for he was old and had not held full strength when the journey began. Now he grew weaker by the day, though he tried to hide this fact from his friends.
They did find water once—topped with a layer of bubbly reddish slime—nestled in a ridge of rock that projected above the white plain like a dragon’s backbone. The crusted salts gave way beneath their feet, leaving tracks that would likely remain for months. “Our enemies could easily track us here,” growled Gaelen, who was not happy about it. She was very worried for Fima, and her good humor was wearing thin.
“Lift your heart, Gaelen, for only an enemy that was completely mad would follow us here,” said Nelwyn, trying to cheer her. “We needn’t worry about being tracked. Who in their right minds would venture here without dire need?”
Against all expectations, that question was about to be answered, as Azori cantered over to their group. Ikari’s black bird, Karatsu, had returned from his morning flight carrying a gold button in his beak. This could mean one of two things—either the remains of someone’s caravan could be found nearby, or there was presently a caravan passing nearby. The bandits wanted to follow the bird and see for themselves, as they anticipated gaining wealth from their fellow travelers in either case. Karatsu never flew more than a few miles from his master, thus it would be a short diversion.
“I would rather not bother, but it will help my men in keeping their good humor,” said Azori. “It shouldn’t take long. Besides, you look as though you are all in need of rest. Why not take some while my men investigate?” Without waiting for approval, he cantered back to his own group, and in a few moments the Company observed Ikari and another of the easterners, two of the sutherlings, and Azok following Karatsu, who flew south toward a distant ridge of stone, calling loudly. Their task was simply to investigate, and if there was no opposition they would bring back whatever valuables they deemed worthy. They had promised not to take either food or water from living folk.
“Just don’t make enemies…we can’t afford them!” said Rogond, shaking his head.
Hours passed, and the travelers rested until they beheld a small, black speck in the southern sky. They roused themselves, expecting the imminent return of Azok and his party, but they did not appear.
“How may we assist you?” asked Rogond, who respected Azori’s obvious natural leadership and concern for his men.
“I will need one or two to accompany me. I dare not go alone along such an unclear path,” said Azori. “Will any of your Company agree to this task?”
“You seem to forget that Azok is my brother, as well,” said Estle. “I would aid him if I can.”
Azori smiled at her and nodded. “Is there anyone else?”
“The purpose of this errand is to learn of your brother’s fate,” said Gaelen. “You will need someone who can travel unseen and unheard, and can slip in among enemies unnoticed. Your people may have been surprised by some enemy that has either killed them, or holds them captive. Is this not your belief?”
“It is,” said Azori. “Are you offering your service, tree-dweller?”
Gaelen shrugged. “You will need someone who can approach unnoticed. In this Company, that will be me.”
“But, you do not understand Ravani-speech,” said Estle, who was uncertain whether she wanted Gaelen along.
“That does not matter...you will be there,” said Gaelen. “You can translate what is said. Much can be learned without benefit of words.”
“I’m satisfied with that,” said Azori. “It would be best if there were only a few of us. Our aim is only to gain news, and not to attempt rescue.”
At first, Rogond resisted the notion of having Gaelen go off into the desert with only Azori and Estle to safeguard her, but Hallagond spoke to him aside. “They are only going after information. It’s important that they remain unnoticed, and if there are too many it will be more difficult. Gaelen can take care of herself. Even if she cannot, Azori and Estle are two very fierce fighters. Azori could take on both of us and most likely prevail. He will protect her.”
“You don’t understand,” said Rogond, his face drawn with concern. “She can be reckless on occasion; she sometimes imagines her abilities to be greater than they are.”
“So you say, brother, yet I have heard the tale of the Elfhunter, and of your adventures. She is still alive today, and that must count for something.”
“Yet these are not her lands, and she may encounter people and things that she is ill-equipped to deal with,” said Rogond. “I would feel a lot better being at her side.”
“Put your fears away,” said Hallagond. “Azori loves nothing more than his own life, but he also loves Estle dearly. He will not place his sister or your beloved in jeopardy, for to do so would threaten his own well-being. He will discover the truth of what has befallen Azok, and then he will return.” He looked hard at Rogond. “Do you not trust Gaelen to keep her word? She has sworn to return to you.”
Rogond did not reply, but went to aid Gaelen in making ready. She clasped his hand, promising to return as soon as she could. Then she bade farewell to Nelwyn, Galador, and Fima before riding away with Azori and Estle.
They had gone only a few miles when they saw smoke curling from behind a small rise. Azok’s band had left a trail that was easy to follow, and it was a safe bet that Karatsu had led them there. Azori, Estle, and Gaelen dismounted, commanding the horses to stay where they were, and crept in to investigate.
Gaelen did not care for the scents she was picking up on the wind. “There is only death here. I sense no living being.” She moved quickly to within sight of the sad remains of some unlucky travelers’ caravan. Someone had made quick work of these people, and there were a few bodies, but Azori’s men were nowhere to be seen.
There was no sign of living folk. The caravan’s water supply had been taken, as well as any food that they carried, but very little else. There were two dead dromadin and several dead horses; the rest had no doubt been seized by the enemy. Many tracks of horses and dromadin led away from the caravan; obviously, the invaders had taken captives. Two of the dead horses had belonged to Azori’s men.
Azori was grim. “They have been taken, but not killed, or the enemy would have left them behind.”
“Yet there is a lot blood on the ground,” said Estle, “Too much to be explained by these few bodies. I would say that the fighting was fierce, and many were wounded.”
“I agree,” said Gaelen. “All signs indicate that your friends have been taken captive, along with the people of the caravan. Perhaps we should follow and see what may be done?”
“We cannot return with so little knowledge,” said Estle, who was beginning to fear the worst for Azok. “We should at least find out where they have been taken, and by whom. Yet the extent of these tracks would indicate a number of enemies. I doubt there will be anything we can do.”
“I must know what has happened,” Azori declared, whistling for his mare. They followed cautiously, riding under the sun and the moon, until they came within sight of a spectacle that exceeded all of their wildest imaginings.
Gaelen smelled the encampment long before she drew within sight of it, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “Arrrah! There is a great foul stench on the wind! We may be nearer to the enemy than we supposed, and a force that would produce such a reek must be vast indeed. Could we have come upon…the Scourge?” She turned to Azori and Estle. “This is not going to have a happy outcome. You both know it.”
Azori nodded. “I know. Yet we must do what we may in our brother’s behalf. We should conceal the horses and continue on foot.”
Though it was dark, the moonlight soon revealed the men set to keep the watch. They were well armed, but they were not expecting enemies in this deserted place, and their attention wandered. Azori, Estle, and Gaelen managed to circumvent the guards, moving carefully from shadow to shadow, creeping silently like cats in the darkness.
They moved to within sight of the huge encampment, and as the first light of dawn began to redden the salt, they came to appreciate the extent of their enemy. Row upon row of scarlet tents, scores of black banners, thousands of spear-points, smoke from a few cook-fires, hundreds of dromadin, and uncountable numbers of horses and men appeared before their astonished eyes. This army stretched as far as they could see back to the southeast, and it was on the move. Azori, who had once served as a spearman himself, could not imagine the difficulty in moving such a huge force across such a terrible, waterless waste.
“We will need to get inside the encampment,” said Gaelen, “and for that we shall need to disguise ourselves. It’s a good stroke that we are all reasonably tall.”
“A pity you did not bring your fire-cloak,” said Estle. “You could have blinded them.”
“Hush!” said Azori. “We need to move from this place, and begin to make our way in. Gaelen…do you think you can obtain garments for our disguise?”
“I will give it my best effort,” she replied. “It’s early and they are not as yet fully aware. We should find a better hiding-place.”
They made their way to a stockpile of supplies, discovering a sledge loaded with casks and covered with a heavy drape, beneath which they could all remain safely hidden. From there, Gaelen spirited herself to a nearby tent. Her companions tried to keep sight of her, but it was difficult. Apparently she did not find what she was looking for, and they saw her roll from beneath the tent wall and move on to the next. Then they lost track of her.
When more than an hour had passed, Estle began to worry. “Perhaps she has been taken captive. She has been gone a long time, and I cannot find her. Should we do anything?”
She was startled by the sudden appearance of Gaelen beneath the canvas drape. She carried garments for their use, having already disguised herself, and her eyes were bright with triumph at having met the challenge before her. She had certainly proven her worth to Azori.
“Never mind...just put these on, will you? I am sorry they’re not cleaner; it seems these men don’t care whether their enemies can smell their approach.”
“I would say they have few enemies, only victims,” said Azori as he donned the red and black garments. Soon their identity was hidden such that they could all walk freely, provided they did nothing to attract attention.
Gaelen gripped Azori’s arm. “I have seen your friends, and many other unfortunate captives,” she said. “I know where they are being held.”
Estle was surprised. “How did you find them so quickly in such a vast place?”
Gaelen looked away for a moment. “I was drawn to their cries. They are in a bad way...your brother Azok has been wounded, and they have done nothing to tend him. I fear he will not live long.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Azori. “He would have fought like a dragon before letting them take him.”
“There is something else,” said Gaelen. “From what I could see, the captives have been fettered by cutting the cords behind their knees. They won’t be escaping, that is certain. There are women and young children who could do no harm.” She shook her head in disgust. “These are cruel people.”
Azori nodded. “We must find Azok as quickly as we may,” he said. He looked over at Gaelen, seeing the truth in her eyes. Azok and the others would never be free again. “I know I can’t save my brother, but perhaps I can take away his pain. Lead on.”
They drew nigh the captives as the morning brightened. Apparently the Scourge brought along an army of flies, thousands of fat, black ones buzzing all around everywhere. A stink pervaded the place, dank and rotten, that was quite new in Gaelen’s experience. It grew stronger as they drew deeper into the encampment.