by Carol Browne
“What else can you do?” he asked. He might as well be discussing the weather. Where his emotions should have been, there was nothing but a great black void. He suspected that fatigue was partly to blame. Perhaps he had actually fallen asleep and this was all a dream.
“My senses are very acute. I can talk to trees, if they’re willing, but sometimes, I think it’s better not to.” She paused for a moment and smiled to herself. “Some elves can see into the future. I can’t. I don’t think I’d want to, either. I dare say mine isn’t worth the looking. Apart from all that, I can’t do much, but I’m good at household chores.” She gave him a sideways look.
“You forgot to mention one thing,” he said. “Your skill at archery. You saved the settlement, you know.”
Godwin’s attention shifted, as images of the day’s ordeal danced through his mind. Had he actually fought in a battle? There had been pools of gore on the grass, a man falling from a horse, warriors fleeing in panic, huts belching smoke. Had he been a part of all that?
“You’re taking this very lightly,” she said. “Have you listened to me at all? I’ve just confessed to being an elf. An elf, Godwin. Don’t you believe me?”
“What?” Despite her insistence, it still seemed quite unreal. “I’ve known you many months, and now you confront me with this. What in Frigg’s name do you want me to say? I’m sure I’ve no idea.” He looked to her for guidance, but she turned her face away. “Well then, why don’t you tell me how you managed to change your appearance? You said it was with magic, yet you say you don’t have any.”
Leaning closer, she pulled the amulet from her robe and showed it to him. “Bellic is a wardain. The great-uncle of my lord, I mean king. King Thallinore, who is ruler of Elindel, where we live. Where I used to live. Bellic gave up his rights to kingship in Peranduil—that was his home—so he can follow his chosen pursuits. He’s a seeker of knowledge, so he’s often absent from Elindel. He likes to wander and talk to sorcerers and animals and even wilthkin—that’s our name for men—and he often wears a disguise so he can go where elves aren’t welcome. Bellic is wise and compassionate, and he taught and befriended me when I was a child. He didn’t have to do it. A nar-wardain doesn’t need much education, you know. Perhaps he took pity on me for some reason. Perhaps I even amused him.”
“And perhaps, like you, he needed a friend,” said Godwin.
She reflected on this in silence. At length, she said, “He gave me this amulet. Its name is Siriol. I used it to change my appearance, but something went wrong at the settlement. I believed it was protecting me when I went to kill Beortnoth, but as you can see, it wasn’t. If it had been, I’d be completely unharmed. I dare say my survival is all down to luck and nothing else.”
She looked down at the gash on her arm and probed it with her fingers. A grimace of pain winced across her face. “It’s the loss of trust that hurts most of all.”
“Perhaps it doesn’t know you now, if you’ve changed your appearance,” said Godwin.
“While it’s in my possession, it must work my will. That’s the way with amulets, Godwin. They can’t be fooled by outward appearance.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
He hoped his humour would lighten her mood, but her pained look told him otherwise. A period of thoughtful silence loomed. He decided to forestall it.
“We’ve talked enough for now,” he said. “I want you to know I’m still your friend, but I need more time to take in what you’ve told me.”
She accepted this with a weary nod, sighed, and climbed to her feet. “Stay here and rest. You look exhausted. And I need some time alone.” Turning away, she headed for the encircling trees.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sound of laughter drifted towards Godwin, like music beyond the trees, and he turned in time to see Elgiva step from the bushes and walk in his direction. The wolf pranced beside her like a fawning puppy.
“I wish you could speak to wolves, Godwin. They know so many pleasing tales. How do you feel today?” She sat by his side, her golden hair like sunshine, and her smile more carefree than any smile he’d seen on her face before. “I’m sorry I let the fire go out, but never mind. It’s such a lovely morning. And you’ve missed the best part of it already.”
The lightness of her manner showed no trace of the previous day’s ordeal. It was almost as though she wanted to forget the secret she had shared with him. He had no wish to darken her mood, but now that he had recovered from his traumatic abduction, there was only one thing on his mind: the fate of his family.
“Later, we’ll look in the wagon,” Elgiva went on. “There may be food in it.”
“Elgiva, where in the name of the gods are we?”
“I don’t know. And neither does our friend here. He and the pack got separated several days ago. They were out hunting, and being the fastest runner, he lost them all. Got carried away in the thrill of the chase, I dare say.”
“Elgiva, please, I need to know where we are, how to get back home. Rowena and the children . . . ” Anxiety stopped his throat. There were no words for the panic that raced through him.
“I’ll see what I can do.” She got to her feet and squinted at the sky.
He watched her with a puzzled frown. What on Earth was she doing?
“I think we’re in luck.” She pointed at the clouds.
“What?” He stood and followed the direction of her arm with his gaze, but saw nothing of any interest. And yet . . . what was that dot he could just make out, circling lazily above them?
“Hey!” Elgiva waved her arms, and the black dot spiralled down.
The dot drew closer, and Godwin could see it was a hawk. It hovered awhile and then swooped down to them and landed in a tree. Elgiva approached it, while Godwin stood with folded arms, not knowing what else to do. Elgiva talked to the bird, but he couldn’t imagine why.
At length, Elgiva returned to his side. “She flew over a settlement yesterday. Many hours before dusk, she says. She stopped to rest in a tree and watched. There were fires being put out and people dead or injured. She remembers seeing a large building and a Saxon woman in an amber-coloured robe. The woman had two little girls at her side, and they had dark red hair and were dressed in blue. And a tall older man was with them. The granary had been pulled down, and there were loads of mice—”
“Forgive me, but I have no interest in the fate of Othere’s mice.”
“As you wish.” Elgiva looked away.
He sighed. “Sorry. Thank you for this news. So my family is alive, at least. And Othere, too. How far away is the settlement?”
“All I know is it’s due west. Birds don’t measure distance the way we do. My guess would be several leagues.”
“When do we leave?”
“We?”
“We can’t stay here. Be reasonable, girl. Beortnoth’s men are bound to return. They’ve left a wagonload of booty. Where else can we go but home?”
“Home?” Her tone was edged with acid. “Your home, perhaps, not mine.” She cocked her small fists on her hips, clearly intending to make her position clear. “I told you, Godwin, I’m an elf. My home is in the woods. That’s where I belong and should have stayed, but for some very bad advice. I can’t return to Othere’s. I must help Greyflanks find his family. Then I’ll fend for myself.”
“But you saved the settlement. They’ll hail you as a heroine.”
“You’d have me pile deceit upon deceit,” she went on. “Not only would you have me lie about my appearance, you’d have me pretend to be brave, too. I told you, Godwin, I believed the amulet would protect me. Do you think I’d have been such a fool otherwise?”
“Perhaps I do. You’re fool enough.”
From her expression, he could tell his remark had stunned her, but he allowed no hint of apology to soften his gaze.
Abashed, she looked away and ran her fingers through her hair. Then, in a calmer voice, she said, “There’s nothing for me among your kind. I don’t nee
d their adulation. I don’t belong there. I never did. It was all a great mistake.”
“By Frigg, we fed and sheltered you,” he said. “How can you be so arrogant?”
“How dare you judge me, wilthkin? By Faine, why can’t you just go home and let me live my life?”
He shrugged and sighed. “Very well,” he said. “You must do as you please. You saved my family, so I’ve no right to stand in your way. I’m in your debt.”
Elgiva hesitated for a moment. “You’re not in my debt. I was only repaying your kindness towards me. Now we’re even and ... and I’m glad your family is safe.”
He smiled at her and nodded. “I made a vow to protect you, but I can’t abandon my children. Still, I need to know you’ll be safe. Where will you go?”
“That’s not your concern. Go back to Rowena. It’s your duty, Godwin. But you’ll have to go alone. I won’t go back to Othere’s. I can’t. Have a safe journey home.” She turned her back on him.
Godwin grabbed her arm and made her look at him. “Is that any way to say farewell to a friend?”
Despite his frown, he hoped his tone was gentle. He was desperately trying to understand, to make some sense of it all before she made her escape.
“Friends should be curt in their goodbyes and spare each other pain,” she replied.
“You do care about me, then?”
Her cheeks reddened, and she snatched her arm from his grasp. “That’s neither here nor there. By Faine, what do you want from me? Your family needs you. I need no one. All I want is my freedom. If you need me to admit that I’ve felt friendship for a wilthkin, then I admit it. Satisfied? Now, let us part.”
“We shall, but not like this. I feel I only half know you. Before I go, would you grant me one favour, in the name of friendship?”
Elgiva narrowed her eyes. “What might that be?”
“I want to see you as you really are. You owe me that. I’ve never seen an elf. I need convincing that such things exist.”
“Still you don’t believe me.” Her face flushed with rage.
“Indeed I do,” he protested.
“What good would it do?”
“If I don’t know the truth, it’ll haunt me forever. I don’t deserve that, do I?”
Her smooth brow wrinkled with doubt and frustration. “That might not be a good idea.”
“Why not? Are you horrible to look at?” He smiled good-naturedly, but she scowled all the more.
“It could be risky. Bellic told me that some elves have the power to enchant wilthkin simply by their appearance,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“How can I explain something when I don’t understand it myself?”
The wolf began to fidget uneasily, and Elgiva glanced in his direction.
“We need to be going,” she said. “This delay distresses Greyflanks.”
“Then change now. Please. Then you can go with him and I can go back to my family.”
Elgiva thought for a moment, clearly torn between conflicting emotions. “But what if I can’t? What if Siriol won’t obey me?”
He held her gaze as steadily as he could. “There’s only one way you can answer those questions.”
She shrugged resignedly and drew a deep breath. “Very well. There’s nothing else for it. I’ll do as you have asked. But I will not accept responsibility for the consequences.”
She turned and put several yards between them. She folded her hands around the amulet.
“Siriol,” she said in a quavering voice, “hear me and work my will. I beg you, reverse your enchantment. Restore me to my true appearance.” She cleared her throat and then tightly closed her eyes in concentration.
Despite his wish to see her as an elf, Godwin’s entrails knotted with trepidation, but he clenched his jaw and ignored the inner voice that urged him to run for his life.
“Siriol,” continued Elgiva, more strongly, “tear away this deception. Take the dawn’s blush from my skin, the summer sky from my eyes, the autumn gold from my hair. I no longer need the protection of this disguise. I wish the spell undone. So be it.”
***
Elgiva waited, her breathing quick and shallow, the anxious beat of her own pulse resounding in her skull. Would the amulet’s magic affect her as violently as it had when she used it at Othere’s settlement to free herself from the marauder? So far, there was no giddiness, nausea, or weakness. The merest sensation of passing wafted through her soul, but it had no more power to alarm her than the draught from a butterfly’s wing.
Beside the dead campfire, the wolf whimpered softly.
Elgiva filled her lungs with air to stop her shaking. Her throat felt as dry as the ashes of their fire, and it forced her to swallow before she could speak. “Well? Has anything happened?” she asked, but Godwin didn’t respond. She opened her eyes. Her friend looked like a man bereft of all his wits. She watched him warily. “I take it something has.”
Godwin stood motionless and seemed struck dumb, but there was a look of wonder on his face. Elgiva had to admit she was relieved it wasn’t revulsion. The depth of her own vanity made her angry.
“By Faine, don’t stare at me like that.” And to her surprise, she stamped her foot.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Your face…it’s perfect. You could be a goddess.”
Her lips parted, but astonishment left her mute. For a while, they stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Then Godwin gathered himself together.
“If it wasn’t for those strange, pointy ears, I’d mistake you for a Briton.”
“Strange ears?” Her hands came up to cover the offending articles, and as far as it was possible for an elf to blush, she did. “Are you satisfied now?” She strode towards him and searched his face. “You can understand what I’m saying, I suppose?”
“Of course I can,” he replied. “And your skin is amazing, you know. So pale and smooth…” He reached out to touch her face.
She tilted back her head in a gesture of dismissal. “Now, in the name of Faine, be gone.”
She stood still and waited, but Godwin didn’t move. Unable to endure the intensity of his gaze, she turned her back on him and folded her arms.
“Elgiva . . . ” He hesitated a moment and then seemed to reach a decision. “Let me come with you. Just a little way.”
With an angry glance behind her, she shook her head at him.
“I thought the matter was settled. What about your family?”
“I know they’re safe, and Othere will protect them. They’re his property, after all, and he’s a fair master. And they’ll believe I’m held captive at Beortnoth’s. They won’t expect to see me until Othere bargains for the return of prisoners.”
“And will he?”
“Of course he will. He’s our master. He wouldn’t abandon any one of us.”
Clearly some fascination for the creature that had magically appeared before him had driven all other considerations out of Godwin’s mind. Elgiva shook her head with exasperation. She had feared this might happen.
“This is awful. You’re enchanted, aren’t you?” She sighed. “What have I done?”
“I have to see you settled somewhere. How can I leave you now? Especially when the sunshine gleams on your hair like that. I’d never know where you were or if you were all right.”
“Would it matter?” she asked him.
“You protected my family. You saved the settlement. You probably saved my life. Don’t I have a right to care in return?”
“Of course you do, when the caring is real. But this is just an enchantment, Godwin.”
“I don’t know what you mean, but I never noticed before how beautiful your eyes are. A man could drown in those big dark eyes of yours.”
She knotted her fingers in her hair and fought with her growing impatience. “If it’s adventure you’re after, you’ll get no adventures travelling with me.”
“To me, freedom itself is an adventure, and anyway, I made
. . . ” He flinched from her dark gaze. “I made a vow to protect you. I can’t go back on it now. Not until you’re safe somewhere.”
“So, my friend, you made a vow, but now you’re enchanted and you don’t know what you’re saying. Can you even hear yourself? I had no idea an enchantment could be so powerful. To make a man abandon his family like this.”
“You can’t really stop me anyway,” he said. “I can’t leave you.”
He smiled ingenuously, and Elgiva shook her head. “Very well, Godwin, I see I have no choice. I can’t stand here forever arguing about it. I’ve tried to dissuade you, but I don’t think it would matter what I said to you now. You’re under an enchantment. Well, so be it. It might be quite pleasant to have some company—at least for a while. I can only hope you’ll see sense and go home soon.” She looked him up and down and then shrugged. “Right, then. There’s a stream beyond those trees where you can bathe and wash the blood from your clothes. But don’t be too long. We must be on our way.”
She turned on her heel and left him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Godwin had bathed his wound in the chill water and scrubbed the gore from his grey woollen tunic. Although he was far from clean, it was the best he could do. He joined Elgiva as she searched through the spoils the raiders had abandoned. They found two water-skins, some dried fruit and bread, and a large, round cheese wrapped in a cloth. Godwin put them all in a sack which he volunteered to carry, and all the while, the wolf padded round them, trying to contain its impatience.
With a grimace of satisfaction, Godwin uncovered a small knife, and he thrust it into his belt. Then, for a moment, he drifted. When he returned to his senses, he was staring at Elgiva, as though she were something precious and awe-inspiring. Her long-suffering expression told him better than words that he looked as foolish as he felt.
“Are we ready to leave?” he asked.
“We’ve been ready for ages,” she told him, “but you were somewhere else.”