Elfhunter (57 page)

Rogond placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her,
as she was rapidly becoming enraged. Amandir’s look of loathing did
not fade from his face as he answered her.

"Gorgon is only partly responsible, if I’m right. If
not for you, Elf, he would not have succeeded. I do not know how
you are managing it, but he is learning of our plans through you
somehow. If it is all the same, I would prefer that you not be
present at this council." "It is
not
the same to us!" roared
Rogond, gripping Gaelen’s shoulder. She was looking at Amandir in
shock. The scouts and Oryan wore similar expressions, as though
they could not imagine such a thing, but then Amandir spoke to
them.

"How was it that our people were taken? Did you
investigate?"

The scouts nodded. "It appears that the Ulcas
traveled north, split into two groups and doubled back to lie in
wait for our people, who followed the tracks right into the trap,"
they said. "It was obvious that the Ulcas knew they were being
tracked."

Amandir questioned them further. "And how long do you
believe it took for this trap to be laid?"

"At least a few hours; they went quite a distance out
of their way to accomplish it." Understanding dawned in their
faces, and they continued. "They must have known of our plan,
though the signs indicate that our people were never directly
detected; they did not get close enough until the trap was already
in place."

Rogond and Fima stood in defense of Gaelen. "The
Ulcas no doubt assumed you would pursue them when you found your
other friends missing. It is not that difficult an assumption to
make," said Fima. "The idea that Gaelen would do anything to aid
Gorgon is absurd. And if you even suggest such a thing again, I
shall need to fetch my axe and teach you some manners, along with a
measure of common sense!"

Amandir drew himself up proudly before Fima, and
things might indeed have gone ill had not Gaelen chosen that moment
to stand between them.

"Enough, both of you! All right, everyone, I must now
confess. I have been sending messages to Gorgon via trained
carrier-bats. If it displeases you to have my presence at council,
Amandir, then feel free to leave it. Your behavior is only partly
excused by your grief, and I am tired of it. And though I
appreciate your offer of courtesy lessons from your dwarvish axe,
Fima, I am more than capable of defending myself from one such as
Amandir. Do not abase yourself thus!" She turned to the scouts.
"Where were the Ulcas headed?"

The scouts were taken aback for a moment, as they had
just witnessed two of the Company nearly coming to blows. "They
appeared to be continuing north," they answered.

"Then I suggest that we all cross the river as soon
as possible. Ulcas loathe the water, and they will not cross for
many leagues yet, until it broadens out and becomes quite shallow.
We shall need to be swift if we wish to muster the forces of the
Greatwood, for that is what I intend to try to do." She turned to
Nelwyn.

"Are you taking this down? I shall need a suitable
message for my carrier-bat this evening." Gaelen turned and strode
off, furious, and began to make ready.

Fima chuckled after her, but Nelwyn’s face was pale.
Things were beginning to fall into place. If somehow Amandir was
right, they all had much to fear from Gaelen, and Nelwyn had no
idea how she would ever break the news to her friend. Nelwyn would
have to be certain her fears were well founded before she told
Gaelen of them. She planned to have a discussion very soon with
Lore-master Fima concerning the golden object that she had seen
clutched in Gorgon’s hand.

The river crossing did not prove too difficult for
the mounted Company, though Fima swore he would never sit a horse
again as Eros plunged across; it was all Rogond could do to keep
the terrified dwarf from pitching off. Dwarves do not swim well,
and they ordinarily do not place themselves in the position of
needing to. Although the crossing proceeded without much further
incident, the accidental but regrettable soaking of the remainder
of the honeycomb set the tone for the next several days.

Gaelen was especially disappointed, as she had been
saving it to give to Ri-Aruin and Wellyn, for wild honey was
considered to be a delicacy, and she knew that Wellyn, in
particular, relished it. They had no other gift to bring. Gaelen
suspected that they might need a peace offering for the King, who
would no doubt be displeased that she and Nelwyn had not returned
as quickly as they had promised when they left for
Mountain-home.

At any rate, Gaelen was in a dark mood for much of
the rest of the journey. Rogond and Fima both tried to cheer her,
but she spent much of her time alone, brooding and avoiding contact
with Amandir, who had stubbornly refused to apologize to her for
his accusations. Neither Rogond nor Fima would speak directly to
him.

Rogond, in particular, was dismayed by Gaelen’s
behavior. She would not sing, and she would not sit with them
around the evening fire when tales were heard and told. Normally
Gaelen loved such things, but now she sat alone under the stars,
usually in some tall tree, until dawn came. Rogond noted with
dismay that her arm was bound one morning—had she cut herself
again? It was not like her to be so careless, and he worried for
her.

Nelwyn was cordial enough to Amandir, as was Galador,
but Amandir remained distant, preferring to speak only to Oryan and
the Elves of Tal-sithian. He would not deign to speak with
Thorndil, either, which did not dismay the Ranger in the least.
Nelwyn noticed that Amandir’s eyes were often red and his face
pale, as though he had been weeping, but she wisely refrained from
asking him about it.

Amandir and Gaelen did share one behavior in common:
they both practiced with their various weapons at every
opportunity, and the Company came to admire Amandir’s impressive
skill with a blade. They wondered what was going through his mind
as he whirled and slashed at his invisible enemy. Gaelen’s formerly
slender arms and shoulders were becoming increasingly well-muscled
as she sought to gain power in the use of Fima’s axe. She drew her
bow with greater power as well and had suffered no loss of
accuracy. When next she engaged the enemy in battle, she would be
ready.

They kept a slightly different course toward the
Elven-hold than the one familiar to Rogond and Galador, and Nelwyn
estimated that the journey would take about eight more days at
their present pace. One evening, she sought out Fima, who was
sitting by himself at the base of an enormous oak, smoking his clay
pipe and looking thoughtful. Nelwyn approached and sat beside him
as he turned to greet her. "Hello, Nelwyn. What brings you to me
this fine evening? I sense you would ask a favor."

"That I would, Lore-master, for I came seeking
wisdom. What do you know of objects that…that carry
enchantment?"

Fima blinked at her. "Enchantment? You will be in
want of knowledge then, Nelwyn, not wisdom. Why do you wish to
know?" Nelwyn looked at her hands, which lay clasped in her lap.
She turned to Fima, her green eyes beseeching him. "Please, Fima, I
must trust you now to keep this in confidence. I beg you, do not be
angry. I want to know the truth of Amandir’s accusations, and I
suspect that there is something going on that Gaelen does not know
about." She hesitated for a moment, then plunged ahead. Fima might
as well know everything—he would need all information if he would
be of any help. "In Tal-sithian I looked into the Stone of Léir and
saw Gorgon with something in his hand. He was looking at me with…
with Gaelen’s eyes. When he put the thing away, his own eyes
reappeared."

Fima was looking at her with an expression of
dismayed fascination. "Go on," he said. "What else did you
see?"

Nelwyn drew a deep breath. "Is that not enough? I
tell you, he had Gaelen’s eyes while he held the object…it was
small, and made of gold. At one point it almost looked like…like a
mirror. Was there ever a mirror that enabled the wearer to…to see
what their enemies were seeing?"

Fima considered before rummaging in one of his many
pockets, drawing forth the small worn leather volume that Arialde
had given him. He thumbed through it for a few minutes, muttering
to himself. Nelwyn was nearly bursting.

"Well? Are you going to help me, or are you just
going to sit there reading that book?"

Fima was unfazed. "In time, my impatient Nelwyn, in
time. Arialde has given a useful gift. This entire section of this
very, very old manuscript is devoted to just such a question. Here
the works of Dardis are described in detail, and there are many
mirrors mentioned—Dardis had a fondness for them, you see. One of
the first made by him was tiny and kept within a golden casing. It
was said to confer the power to see and hear through the senses of
one’s designated emissary. It would have been quite useful in war,
or in peace. These writings state that the mirror was never put to
use, because Dardis was uncertain of its effects on the bearer, or
on the emissary. The author mentions that it had to be bound by the
bearer to the chosen emissary using either a bit of their flesh or
some possession of theirs." He continued to look into the
manuscript.

"It says here that the mirror was among those objects
crafted by Dardis that were unaccounted for after the Second
Battle, where Dardis was so cruelly betrayed and slain. Such a
great gifted hand, so tragically taken." He paused, bowing his head
reverently, then began again. "The scholars believe that it was
taken by Lord Wrothgar. If so, then it has been corrupted. Yet if
it fell into the hands of the Dark Powers, why have we not seen it
used before? Surely it was not kept all this time merely for
Gorgon’s use."

"Who knows?" replied Nelwyn, who was now becoming
alarmed. "What did this mirror look like? Is there a description in
your manuscript?"

Fima looked deeper, and his eyes darkened. "There
is," he said, "but to myself I will keep it, until you disclose the
nature of the object in your vision. I will then know if they are
the same."

Nelwyn closed her eyes, recalling the image as best
she could. "It is difficult—I saw the mirror for only a few
moments, and it was a blur most of the time. But I do remember
this: it was of gold, with a clever lid that flipped open to reveal
the mirror within."

Fima grew pale as he read the description of the
mirror in the manuscript. "Nelwyn, this is very important, so think
carefully. Was the cover engraved? Were you able to see any imagery
upon it, and if so, what was it?"

Nelwyn did not care for the expression on Fima’s
face, and she cared even less for the one that replaced it as she
answered. "I thought…I thought I saw a seven-pointed star."

Fima’s face was now very grim. "Are you certain?
Because if you are, I may have to apologize to that haughty
Amandir, and our dear Gaelen will not be able to bear it. You must
be absolutely certain." He sighed, and handed her the book. "Look
upon this image, and tell me whether you have seen it before."

Nelwyn took one glance at the drawing and, to her
horror, recognized the mirror at once. She thought quickly—she
would have to put Fima off for now. She needed time to
consider.

"I…I’m not sure. It might have been…different. I’m
not certain." But she could not look Fima in the eye. "I must take
my leave of you, Lore-master, though I am grateful for your aid and
enlightenment. Please forgive me." She rose and left abruptly,
before Fima could see the tears of panic that now welled in her
beautiful green eyes, escaping into the forest to be alone with her
thoughts.

Fima watched her go, a deep dread in his heart. He
did not envy her those thoughts, for he knew that she was now aware
that her dearest friend and kin was quite possibly ensnared in a
web set by Gorgon, a situation that might soon devour her sanity.
Fima considered. Everything was falling into place now—the reason
that Gorgon had shown up in Grundin’s Realm in the first place, the
slaying of Tibo, the survival of Gaelen, and the death of the Elves
of Tal-sithian. Everything made sense. Fima wept quietly for the
first time in many, many years. He would keep Nelwyn’s secret as he
had promised, but Nelwyn herself would have to come to grips with
it, and then they would have to act. Fima loved both Nelwyn and
Gaelen dearly, and he could not imagine the sorrow that would be
set loose upon the day this awful truth would be revealed.

Nelwyn wept bitterly for some time, alone in the dark
forest. This was indeed cruel news, and she could not fathom how
she would act on it if it were true. She tried to catch her breath,
which was coming in great gasps. With some effort, she mastered
herself; she would not get any closer to the truth by weeping. In
her heart she now resolved to lay a trap for Gorgon, one that would
confirm her suspicions once and for all. She suspected that
Gaelen’s recurring chills had something to do with Gorgon and the
mirror, and she thought she knew just how to ensure that her
suspicions were correct and that the Stone had indeed shown the
truth.

Steeling herself for the coming task, she set about
laying plans to carry it out, hoping that she was wrong. She vowed
to tell no one, not even Galador, until she was absolutely certain
one way or the other.

The Company made their way through the deep forest
without further incident, though there were times when it seemed as
though strange creatures surrounded them on all sides, especially
at night. Fima was not comfortable in this deep gloom at all,
surrounded by ancient, moss-covered trees that seemed to resent his
mere presence. The Elves of Tal-sithian were also ill at ease at
first; they were accustomed to the light, open forests of the
Deer-roaming, and this dark, oppressive tangle was not really to
their liking.