The Travelers' Song

by Brendan O'Gara

  Thalin could see that the river would be a problem, and one that Gadlin wasn’t going to be able to solve on his own. He started to go about gathering a trio of saplings. They could ford the river through whatever means available.

  Wandalor saw what he took for a beaver dam. He guided his horse in that direction, motioning towards it. “Here, we can use this dam to cross and continue on our way.”

  Gadlin looked at Wandalor, his mouth opened and closed, and then after a moment he spoke. “The wrong path always leads to the wrong end. An easy solution is like a light in a storm: rush to it at your own peril, for it may not always lead to a safe harbor...” Wandalor looked at his friend and arched his eyebrow. “I am duly confused.”

  Thalin said to Wandalor, as if he were decoding what Gadlin had just said, “That’s a log jam not a dam. With all the storms that have pelted down in this area over the past few days, there are quite a few log jams that can be used for crossing. They’re unstable and extremely dangerous to cross. If you fall in, you can be swept under and pinned down by the trees and water. Log jams consist of logs and brush collected from a high flood. They will stay stationary, while the river runs under it or between the logs. The difficult part of any log jam is getting around the large root balls that are sticking up. You may have to swing around the root ball, grabbing a protruding root off to the side. Loose rock and soil from the root ball may fall down on you as you grab the roots. No, we’re going to have to ford this.”

  Gadlin looked from Thalin then to Wandalor as Thalin passed him a sapling to use as a tamp to check for holes. Wandalor’s horse stomped at the edge of the water, causing Gadlin and Thalin to take notice. Thalin inhaled deeply, then said, “There are orcs near, upwind. I would say half a mile at best. We need to get moving. The horses smell it, I smell it. Soon they will be in view.”

  “Do they know we are here?” Wandalor asked, and then regretted the question. “They’re upwind of us, we’re not upwind of them,” Gadlin stated. Wandalor bravely moved himself and his horse out into the water, using the sapling Thalin handed him to steady himself.

  “Try to remember that the surface and the center of the river run the fastest, so don’t pick your feet up too high in the water or you run the risk of being knocked over mid-step. Use your tamp to feel out your next step. You never know when we may run into an Orm Python, and we just do not want that,” Thalin instructed Wandalor. Carefully the three of them crossed the river.

  After successfully fording the river, Gadlin took up the saplings and bundled them together with some wisteria vines he found near a tree close to the edge of the water. He made a post to mark the location of their ford so that they could find it on the way back to Blackweb.

  The three of them felt it, that feeling of imminent foreboding. It was strong and instantaneous. Gadlin sat up on his horse after planting the sapling post. He felt as if he was being watched, and waited for an attack to come. He did his best to shake the feeling and move on.

  Wandalor asked Thalin, “What is an Orm Python, by the way?”

  “An Orm Python is a snake that can mimic its surroundings to such a high degree of accuracy that it can quite easily be still or moving water. The snake appears translucent, so that you don’t know it’s there. You’ll come up on one and not see the creature until it strikes you. As a constrictor, it will likely stun you and then clamp down on your flesh, breaking your bones as it desires. If that wasn’t enough, it will commence unhinging its own jaw so that it can more easily swallow you whole.” As Thalin spoke he made hand motions to accentuate his point. Wandalor turned white. While Thalin was busy entertaining Wandalor with hand gestures and stories of the snake, Gadlin took the time to walk his horse over to a large willow and wait. “Are you done scaring the wizard?” Gadlin asked.

  “Yes, just about I suppose. Why do you ask? Have you got something better to do other than be afraid of the woods? We’re perfectly safe,” Thalin said in a patronizing manner. “No one who isn’t an elf in Elven Woods is safe,” Gadlin said plainly.

  “In your logic, Gadlin, if I am half elf am I half safe?” Wandalor asked.

  “Play the half elf card, that always works. Thalin, can you please commune with this tree and see if it knows anything about the altar of the old gods? If we are going in the correct direction, it would be nice to know it,” Gadlin continued.

  “This old willow will give up all its secrets, of that I’m sure. It’s not often that someone actually speaks to willows, or any other plants for that matter. Druids are the only ones who seem to really care about plant life,” Thalin mused.

  “Commune with plants? What, talks to it? Has a conversation?” Wandalor was perplexed.

  “I have met druids who say they know things, though I have never seen a druid actually talk to a bush. Wandalor, it’s not like they actually use words. Thalin will use his nature Eldritch. He’ll touch the tree, he’ll think about ideas, and the tree will communicate through visions placed in Thalin’s mind. It will share history that it has experienced with other plants. If we’re lucky some of the plants in this area have shared water and roots with some of the plants in the area to which we need to go,” Gadlin explained to Wandalor.

  “Let us hope it works. What is the word on those orcs that were headed this way?” Wandalor asked as he looked back at the river.

  Sitting up in the saddle, looking back towards the water, Gadlin waited. Mindfully, he pulled his bow off and positioned an arrow. After that he pulled another arrow out to hold in his hand, as he holds the bow being ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

  “Well, we’re in luck,” Thalin continued. “Follow me, Wandalor, and keep an eye out for elves. Gadlin, keep an eye out for orcs and let us ride.” Thalin spoke with joy in his voice, as though talking to the tree had made all his worries flow away.

  The forest was enormous, murky, and budding. Its canopy was claimed by walnut, cedar, and larch. Twinkling lights bursting through their crowns allowed for vibrant ferns to cultivate in the brittle leaves on the ground below. As the men rode their horses through the brush, curling climbing plants waved from trees. A potpourri of flowers adorned the otherwise monotonous lower level. A mixture of wild sounds, most belonging to small creatures, reverberated through the air. The sound formed a chaotic orchestra with the swish of the wind blowing gently through the forest. Sounds gave way to the tinkling of gently moving water of a stream not far away. Listening, the trio followed the sounds until the brush opened up to a clearing in the lower level of the pass where, in the moonlight, a waterfall glistened.

  The water looked like an extension of the beam of moonlight coming down from above and disturbed the stream below. The microorganisms in this water were vibrant with life, some giving off their own light in the form of bioluminescence. The water poured out from beneath a single stone tower of light grey stone with three arrow slits on three levels high above. On the side that the trio arrived there was no doorway to give access to the tower, only the arrow slits.

  The air was crisp and the temperature was dropping. There were no insects buzzing and the birds were still. The wind was soft as it slipped around them, kissing their skin, moving wisps of their hair. “Well, it looks like we are here,” Wandalor said.

  “How do you figure that?” Gadlin asked rhetorically.

  “Waterfall?” Thalin answered.

  “The gods often like to do things with a numerical purpose,” Wandalor continued

  “What you mean?” Gadlin continued to goad Wandalor.

  “There are three of us, three arrow slits, and the waterfall drops on three different rocks before entering the stream,” Wandalor said in a serious tone.

  “That could be just a coincidence,” Gadlin surmised, continuing to harass Wandalor.

  “Could be; however, it is not.” Wandalor started to get angry.

  “I’m pulling your chain, so relax. We just need Thalin to talk to the bugs,” Gadlin said as he dismounted.

  “Bugs?” Wandalor
repeated.

  “Bugs; yes, he talks to them. They tell him whether or not there are living beings in the tower over there,” Gadlin said as he moved to set up a tie rope for the horses.

  Thalin walked by Gadlin, passing him the reins to the animal and moved over to a fallen tree. Thalin took a knee and placed his hands on the trunk and pushed it over to reveal the underbelly of the timber.

  “Ah, there you are...” Thalin said as he lay eyes on the bugs he’d found. Wandalor dismounted from his horse and tied it off as Gadlin had done, moving away from Thalin so as to not disturb him. Standing close to Gadlin, Wandalor asked quietly, “What should we do...”

  “Often, we’re in towns and cities where you, Darr, and Johan shine. Thalin and I sit idle, quiet, and we wait. We know when it’s our time we strike...” Gadlin said plainly.

  “I am to stand back, shut up, and wait?” Wandalor said half-heartedly. “Pretty much...” Gadlin said, nodding at his friend.

  Thalin scooped up a handful of bugs and other small animals. He began to draw Eldritch from the surrounding nature. The ground began to glow a very faint green around him and the plants flourished in his presence as he called up the elements. Thalin brought the handful of bugs to his face. Wandalor and Gadlin could see that his hands changed from the color of the light given off to that of a golden hue as he buried his face in the small animals and bugs. The bugs and animals rolled gently off of his face, landing harmlessly on the earth where they effortlessly resumed going about the relationship with the log that was their home. Thalin stood and faced his friends.

  “That tower is empty. The animals say it has stood empty for a thousand generations. However, that’s bug generations, so I’m not really sure how long it is in real time,” Thalin said as he moved closer to his friends.

  “Fourteen years; an insect generation is about five days” Both Gadlin and Thalin looked at him in surprise. Wandalor’s face colored, but only slightly. “I read a book,” he said.

  Armed with this new information, the trio made their way closer to the waterfall. It became evident that the area was made up of volcanic basalt, the stones interlocking with one another. Gadlin led the way, with Wandalor behind him and Thalin bringing up the rear. The bioluminescence in the water that flowed over the falls was magical in itself, without need of further enhancement. As they got closer to the falls the the sound it produced increased in intensity till there was only the deafening rush of water.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Out in the brisk night air six elves rode in silence, their armor made of finely tooled leather and other materials. Not a sound did the protection make on their bodies as they rode. Cautiously, only hand signals were used between them as a means of communication. With keen vision and the ability to see in multiple spectrums of light at will, the scouting party took a normal path and picked up the trail of other horses in the area. There were also multiple scents that their noses discerned that were unfamiliar to them; not orc and not elf.

  Deciding that things might become problematic, the leader signaled to the group to stop and dismount. The group did as instructed. Through years of training, it was decided that the smallest and fastest rider would stay with the horses at a safe vantage point. In the event of an altercation that rider would bolt, return to base, and report witnessed activities. This patrol followed the same parameters, with the horses secured with the keeper. The other five elves took to the trees so as to not leave evidence of their presence. Gracefully they moved through trees. It was preferable over short distances. Careful to keep their weight close to the tree trunk and so as not to shake loose any leaves or other such detritus to fall to the ground, they continued stealthily.

  After a short time, the patrol was above the horses that they had smelled earlier and took their time to study what they saw from the vantage point in the trees. Three people had arrived. The direction seemed to be coming from across the river. The fact that all three wore shoes of different types ruled out orcs. Orcs wore no foot coverings. Man or the races of man were the only other options. Neither Tanith nor any of his captains coveted confrontations. The only elves who would want a war were the Ravens, the disgruntled youth of the elves. Too young to have fought in a real war and too disbelieving to trust their elders about the horrific truth of war. All of that aside, the patrol had found a party of man inside the borders of the forest, intruders who should not be there.

  Taking time to further investigate the tracks the patrol learned that the tracks went to the waterfall, to the Cavern of the Old Ones. The leader of the patrol knew that the trespassers would come out eventually. The captain sent one of the patrol to retrieve his horse and ride to their home camp. The rider was to report in while the captain and the remaining scouts set up an ambush for the group of interlopers.

  The light produced by the water illuminated the chamber behind the falls as though it was bright as day. The left of the path was covered in algae and moss. To the right, the stone basalt was barren. A path was polished from footfalls on the stones. For thousands of years, believers had been coming here to ask favors of the gods. Gadlin knelt down and motioned for the others to stop where they were.

  “This is where Johan would come in handy; however, we’re here to seek help for him. Without him we’re going to trust that it’s safe to just walk in here and not watch out for traps,” Gadlin said, sounding very concerned.

  “This place is holy ground. The priests and priestesses would not place traps somewhere to harm other believers,” Wandalor said as he walked into the area behind the falls. Gadlin took a moment to study the back wall of the chamber and took note of the plants that grew along the wall. “Thalin, what kind of plant is that?” Gadlin asked, pointing.

  “The Cypredium Aquifolium is an extremely common, plant that can be found in most forests. It blooms in late summer. It has wide trifoliate leaves, which are usually blue green. It also grows small flowers, which can be light bronze, white, and light grey. These plants grow in decent numbers, but it’s extremely difficult to control and maintain their growth. They can be used as an energizer when eaten. That’s about all I can remember off the top of my head.” Thalin spoke like he was reciting from an encyclopedia.

  “Well, do they grow in a symmetrical way? All the same height?” Gadlin asked.

  Wandalor raised an eyebrow and looked closer where Gadlin was standing. The plants were not uniform in height. There was an obvious section of plant growth that was shorter than the rest, denoting a difference in the wall.

  “What am I seeing?” Wandalor blurted out.

  Thalin looked as well. “Yes, I don’t believe we’re having a hallucination. Not all of us, anyway,” Thalin said.

  What they all saw was that there was an opening in the back wall, a passage hidden in its obvious position. The three men centered their thoughts. After checking that they were in agreement, they all entered the passageway. When inside the chamber of the old gods they looked around, not knowing what to do or where to do it.

  There was nothing. The stone-walled, fifty foot by fifty-foot, empty room they entered had a floor made of the same basalt. The tops of each stone had a rune from the Norse alphabet engraved on the surface, written by an oracle. They searched the room to ensure that they were not simply missing something.

  Thalin took note of the ebb and flow of energies in the room. He summoned the Eldritch of nature, his arms raised to head height as he knelt, feeling the earth below him. The chamber reacted to his ability. Out of the stone floor grew an altar to the old gods. It came up as a smooth plank of basalt. Other than the altar, the three men were the only things inside the space. They walked around the altar until they had all circled it one time, then they stopped. Each man placed both hands on the altar. The three bowed their heads and knelt. “I don’t know what we should do. How we can help? There’s nothing here,” Gadlin said to the air.

  At that moment a young woman appeared from the vapor, her long dark curls heavy down to the middle of her
back. Her blue eyes seared, and red lips against pale, milky, translucent skin were striking. She wore a long, dark as midnight, blue dress with straps over equally pale shoulders, low over her breasts, the hem hovering above her slim ankles. She wore no weapons or adornments. She stepped out of the nothingness, out of the blackness of the cave. The woman stared with cobalt eyes, taking in those present.

  “I know why you are here, what have you to offer. My name is Lambach.” Her voice, a surreal mixture of eerie tones, penetrated from an unearthly plane.

  “You know why we’ve come?” Thalin asked, his eyes fixed on her form. Lambach nodded silently.

  “Will you do what we need done? Will you provide help to our friend?” Wandalor asked the woman, his voice a stark contrast to her wispy sounds, his words strong and clear.

  “I have the power to mirror life and death; however, you must ask and I must answer. A bargain must be struck,” Lambach said to the men, her words floating through the air in a breath that dissipated like dew drops on morning leaves.

  Gadlin stepped forward with purpose and stood in front of his companions, his back to them, face to face with Lambach. “I owe Johan a debt. One that, until now, I have been powerless to repay. Whatever your price to bring my friend back from the clutches of death, I will pay it,” Gadlin said, the words spilling out of his mouth. He didn’t give anyone else a chance to speak.

  “Stop this madness, Gadlin!” Wandalor shouted in a half growl. “I have lived a long life already. This is not where my path ends. As a half elf I know where my life will end. A curse, yes, it is a curse. All half breeds know their end,” Wandalor said, reciting an existing law not of any land but of nature.