by C S Marks
Rogond smiled. “What things?” he asked. “He won’t remember them; he will only remember the promise of exploring the wonders of the library. You will always be his friend.”
Gaelen shook her head. “You think he won’t remember every insulting word? That has not been my experience with dwarves.”
As she walked away, Rogond smiled to himself. It had not been his experience, either.
Chapter 21: THE WAR COUNCIL
If Gaelen hoped that Fima would not remember the insults she had given, and that she would not hear about it from him, she hoped in vain. The first words issuing from his mouth when he regained enough strength to speak were directed at her.
“The eloquence of Elves continues to astound me,” he murmured in a sort of croaking whisper. “A git, am I? Iron-mongering, yes, I could see that, but…a git? You must have delved deeply into your repertoire of excoriations to come up with that one. I stand in awe of your vocabulary.” He was still coughing, and he would not breathe easily for weeks, but having set his will to remaining alive he would do so. One day he would leave Alterra despite any desire, but that day had not yet come.
Gaelen was too overjoyed to be dismayed, though she knew that he would tease her for a long time to come. She sighed inwardly and prepared herself.
A very large task loomed before the Company, and they could ill afford to spend much effort in worrying about Fima. Salastor had called a war-council, and at first he had requested only Gaelen and Estle, for they alone had actually seen the enemy. They sat before a large table with a fairly detailed map of the region spread upon it, and tried to pinpoint where they thought the Scourge had last been seen. Neither Gaelen nor Estle held much skill in the use of maps, but they remembered many details of their journey. From their recollection it was possible for others to retrace their course.
Gaelen had seen more of the encampment than had Estle, and she tried to describe the vastness of it. Those present at the war-council had difficulty visualizing such an extensive army, and their faces betrayed their skepticism, thinking that she was surely exaggerating!
Salastor’s advisors questioned her, and some adopted a tone and manner that were almost condescending, yet Gaelen was unconcerned, for she saw no such patronizing expression in Lord Salastor, nor in the Minister of Defense, a man named Talishani Ali. He posed an important question that was shared by nearly everyone present.
“Will we have sufficient time to prepare for this siege, I wonder?”
Gaelen set herself to the question, for her other senses provided insight in addition to what she and Estle had seen. Fima might have chided her for her lack of spoken eloquence, but she was very adept at interpreting the language of scent. Based on the rapidity with which the Company had outdistanced the stench, she knew that the Scourge had been moving relatively slowly. The City had some time to make ready.
Gaelen estimated that the Scourge moved at about one-third the speed of the Company, but they moved on a course that was more direct, and the Company had been forced to slow down once they reached the Fire-hills. It had taken nearly thirteen weeks to make the crossing from Mumari, and it had been almost seven weeks since they had encountered the path of the Scourge.
“The Fire-hills will slow them down, surely,” said Estle.
Gaelen was uncertain, her eyes and voice grim as she remembered the last days of the journey. “If Azori and his men had not chosen to leave us when they did, so that we had extra water, the Plains of Thirst would have finished us. We nearly ran out of reserve as it was. We would have lain down beside that dead caravan, and joined them.” She shivered, recalling the sight of the remains of the woman with the child in her arms.
She turned now to Ali. “I believe that for every day of travel the Company made, it will take between two and three days for the Scourge. They will not simply march up before the Gates; they will camp for a while until their force is gathered and made orderly. We have at least seven weeks, but I would guess it will be a lot longer before they engage us.”
Ali nodded. “From your description, I believe they will take closer to three months. Each time they stop to rest they lose more time, for it takes many hours even to spread the word through such a vast encampment, never mind moving it forward. We may have even more time than you know. The Fire-hills will impede them, and they will not be in a hurry unless they suspect that we know of their approach. If they have made it this far, the Plains of Thirst will hold little hardship for them.”
“I just cannot fathom how it is that they are supplying such a vast force with water,” said Estle. “They surely could not carry it with them.”
“Of that, I do not know,” replied Ali. “I truly can’t fathom it either. Yet, somehow, it must be so. At any rate, it is fortunate that you came to warn us when you did, as we now have a fair amount of time to make ready.”
Gaelen’s eyebrows lowered and her bright eyes narrowed, remembering the condescending looks from some of the Council. “Indeed. From what I have seen, we’ll need every day of it.”
Now the Council called upon the rest of the Company, for they would begin to plan their defense. Galador, Rogond, Hallagond, and Nelwyn were summoned. Bint Raed was still resting and regaining her strength; she did not need to attend the Council, for she knew little of warfare.
Unfortunately, most of the men sitting at the Council-table knew little of it, either. Some were historians and scholars; they could provide insights from what they had read concerning fortifications, but they had no practical experience.
Fortunately, the original designers of the Citadel had kept an eye toward possible attack by an eastern enemy. The Great Gates, set into tall walls of solid stone, were an example. Archers could be positioned on the battlements atop the wall; fortunately this art had not been lost. There were many fine archers in the City, though few would ever have drawn their bows on a living man. Gaelen and Nelwyn shook their heads. They knew well the difference between aiming at a stationary target and bringing down a swift-moving enemy.
The first session of the war-council was distressing to Rogond, Hallagond, and Galador, for they saw men of little experience debating matters of which they had little knowledge. Hallagond, in particular, was quickly driven to point this out. Yet when asked about his own experience, he had to admit that no one in the Company save Galador had participated in any situation that was even remotely similar to the one they now faced, and he was chastened.
When several hours had passed, all were given food and drink, and they rested from the debate. Galador approached Ali, who sat alone with his meal.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“You are free to sit with anyone you choose.”
“Gaelen believes that you have seen battle,” said Galador. “She said she has read it in your eyes. Now that I look upon you, I see that it is so. How does a man of your experience come to be here?”
“You mean, how would an old, battle-scarred warrior come to live in a city devoted to peace?” said Ali, setting down his meal and looking hard at Galador. “I see that you also have lived through some hard conflict, and I will spare you the details of my personal history, but know that I am a refugee from a now-dead realm. Our people had been winnowed by the Plague before being felled by an enemy army. My record as a defender is none too fine of late, yet I’m the best we have to offer.” He shook his head. “If this force is as great as it is reputed to be, my knowledge will not be enough. I hope your people can aid us.”
Galador looked around him to behold two Rangers, two Sylvan hunter-scouts, and Estle...it was not much to put forth against the Scourge.
Ali smiled wryly at him. “Don’t fear, my fine friend. We always have your sage advice, and you might be surprised at how resourceful our folk can be once they stop talking and are moved to action. Never undervalue the power of men standing in defense of their homes. Besides,” he said, lifting his plate and cup once more, “one must die of something eventually.”
Galador returned
the smile, but he did not find this sentiment to be especially comforting.
After a bit more debate, the Council disbanded for the day. Rogond, Hallagond, and Galador would go with Ali to the armory and take stock of the weapons stored there, and Nelwyn would return to stay with Fima. Gaelen requested leave to roam about the City, for she wanted to work out the lay of things.
Salastor inclined his head to her. “The Company had been afforded the status of honored guests. You may go wherever you wish…the Citadel and her people are at your service. Just be sure to return to your chambers before sunset. Tonight we feast in your honor. It has been three days since your arrival, and we have yet to welcome you properly. Tomorrow we shall return to business, but tonight there will be singing, dancing, and the telling of tales.”
Rogond understood his strategy—no doubt rumors were flying all over the City by now. A welcoming feast was to be expected, and would put people’s minds at rest until Salastor and the Council decided what their course would be.
Estle approached Gaelen as she made ready to go out into the city. “Would you like some company?”
Gaelen looked at her in surprise. “I had not expected any, but my errand is not of any urgency, and you are welcome.”
“I just thought you might need some assistance,” said Estle with a grin. “You’re quite the object of curiosity among these folk. You might need me to ward them off.”
“If you were not with me, I could evade them,” said Gaelen. “If I do not wish to be noticed, I will not be.” She lifted her hood, concealing her ears and shading the light of her eyes.
Estle shook her head, chuckling. “I’m afraid they will see through that disguise, Gaelen. You will never appear to be anything other than what you are. You simply can’t help yourself, alas.”
“Hmmm…so you say,” replied Gaelen, then her eyes suddenly grew wide as she looked past Estle’s shoulder toward the balcony beyond. “What in the world is that?”
Despite an inner feeling that she should not do so, Estle turned toward the balcony. After all, they would no doubt see many strange and wonderful things here. Naturally, there was nothing there, and when Estle turned back around, Gaelen was nowhere in view. Estle had not heard a sound from her.
Oh, I do so hate it when she does that. “All right, Gaelen, you’ve made your point. Gaelen…? All right, now, the joke has ended. Reveal yourself, or I shall be forced to leave without you.” She took a deep breath. “Very well, then, I suppose I shall leave you to your fate. It’ll serve you right if you’re swamped by well-meaning folk, whereas I will be free to roam unfettered, for they will take little notice of me. Have it your way.”
She turned and made for the doorway, keeping all her senses trained rearward in full expectation of an ambush from behind. Therefore, when Gaelen dropped down immediately in front of her, she was startled nearly out of her wits. Without thinking, she grabbed Gaelen and tossed her over her shoulder. Gaelen rolled lightly onto her feet, shaking her head and smiling.
“I see your brothers trained you well,” she said. “The look on your face was worth it. Now, let’s go first and see Fima. I would ask if there is any errand he would have me do. Also, I would have Nelwyn come with us…she will want to see the trees.”
“These weapons haven’t seen use in a long time,” said Hallagond, lifting a sword from the rack and examining it. “They all need sharpening, and they are actually rusted. Why have you not kept them oiled?”
“We have,” replied Ali. “Yet the salt air defies our efforts, which admittedly have been somewhat lax. It’s difficult to prevent steel from rusting and pitting with time.”
“Indeed,” said Rogond. “Many of these will need to be carefully tended and re-worked, as they could not be trusted against an armored foe.”
“It is as I feared,” said Ali, shaking his head. “Naturally, I am responsible, for the defense of the City is my duty. Yet it’s not easy to convince folk to expend effort in such pursuits when no enemies threaten them. We have many fine smiths here, but their works have been directed elsewhere.” He looked over at Galador, who was examining the rusted blades with a somber expression. “Ah, my friend, let me show you a sight that will cheer you. Metal fares not well beside the sea, but wood and hide and cane are only made stronger! Come with me.”
He led them into another part of the armory, where archery stores were kept. Here were hundreds of fine bows. Most were designed for hunting, but some were powerful and capable of long range.
Galador examined them with wonder. They were made of a wood that he didn’t recognize, but it was very straight-grained and strong.
“The strings are fashioned of sinew blended with fibers of tuaga trees,” said Ali. “They are incredibly durable. Before we make our bows we submerge the staves in the harbor for several years. When we draw them out and dry them properly, the wood wears like iron and will never decay, yet it remains resilient. Try it and see.” He handed an arrow to Galador, who strung the bow with some effort, then pulled it and sent the arrow into a target set against the far wall. The shot went high, but the arrow nearly disappeared into the target with the force of it.
“Are your archers strong enough to pull these?” he asked Ali in wonderment.
“Some are, and more can be made so. The smaller bows are very accurate, require less power, and are in fine shape.”
“Show me,” said Galador.
At the end of their time in the armory, they had come to know several things. More arrows were needed, though many were already available and in good condition. Many would no doubt be lost, however, in training additional archers, for they would be most vital in defense of the city walls. The forges of the Citadel would now have to be turned from their peaceable pursuits toward the making of blades and spear-points. Most of all, the people would need to be trained, as few in the city would ever have seen battle. Ali turned to his companions, holding forth his right arm so that it extended into the center of the group.
“I shall need your aid,” he said, “you and the others of my folk who understand such matters. Will you give the promise of your service? Without it, we will surely fail.”
“We may even fail with it,” said Rogond. “Yet I will promise to serve the people of the Silver City.” He extended his own arm, placing his right hand upon Ali’s clenched fist. Hallagond and Galador both did likewise.
“Then I name you captains in the army of Dûn Arian,” said Ali, “and I give you leave to order my people as you will. You answer only to me, and to Lord Salastor. He and I will deal with the others of the Council, those who do not believe such measures are necessary. We shall meet each day and plan our strategy. Agreed?”
All four warriors nodded in assent. They were now united in their resolve to defend the City, in their mutual respect, and in the bond of friendship.
Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Estle had gone to view the western side of the city, where they could look out over the blue water and the vast coastal forest. This expanse of emerald foliage was the most beautiful sight imaginable to Nelwyn, who trembled with anticipation at the thought of roaming the dark green depths.
Gaelen was also quite taken with the harbor and the flat seas beyond. The smell of it tantalized her...so full of life!
As for Estle, she simply stared in awe at the great, dark purple horizon. The idea of waters stretching without end was nearly beyond imagining. “Some of my ancestors were mariners,” she said softly. “They called the sea their home. I would very much like to know more of it…I do not believe I have ever seen anything so beautiful, or so powerful. It frightens me.”
“You shall have the chance to learn of it, I’m sure,” said Nelwyn. “These folk will know much of the ways of the sea, and they will be eager to share their knowledge with you. You’ll be sailing in no time.” She indicated several vessels of various sizes that dotted the calm waters of the harbor. In the distance they could see the great, sharp rocks guarding the entrance, and they could hear the roar of the wild se
as beyond.
“Enough talk,” said Gaelen, shouldering her small pack. “Let’s be on our way. There’s exploring to be done—I will not rest until I have wetted my feet in the water and climbed the tallest tree in the forest.” She leaped lightly down from the wall on which she had been standing and sprang away. It took Nelwyn and Estle a few minutes to catch up with her.
They spent several hours exploring the shores of the harbor, venturing into the shallows, taking notice of the bitter saltiness of the water. They found shells and parts of sea animals that had died and washed up, and also some live crabs and small fish. Gaelen was fascinated by the number of armored creatures. “In the northlands such armor is rare, although the fish still have scales,” she said.
“It is ironic...with so much water at your feet, you could still die of thirst,” said Nelwyn. “This water is undrinkable. I believe the sea could be a lonely and deadly place to the unwary.”
“Or just to the unlucky,” said Estle. “I have heard stories of mariners whose ships were disabled, who drifted for many days and nearly perished from thirst. Yet if they drank of this water, they went mad and died very quickly. Those tales were brought back by the living; most were not so fortunate.”
“I’m ready to enter the forest now,” said Gaelen. “Estle, will you come with us, or will you stay by the water?”
Estle was not yet ready to leave the harbor. “I will remain here and listen to the sea,” she said. “Come back for me, and we’ll return together. Don’t stray too far. Remember—we must be back before sunset.”
Gaelen and Nelwyn promised to return for Estle, and they did so, but they lingered long in the forest as only supremely contented Wood-elves will. Estle was annoyed. “You’re late! Now we will be hard pressed to return by sunset, and we would need to run swiftly. It’s a lot harder running uphill!”