Elfhunter (59 page)

Early summer was a wonderful time in the Greatwood.
The weather was warm, but not oppressive, the nights were clear,
and cool breezes stirred the trees and whispered gently in the
reeds and tall grasses by the gently running river. The air smelled
fresh, full of life and growth that would culminate in fruit and
seed. As the Company prepared for the evening’s festivities, they
already felt renewed and relaxed. Warm baths, clean, shining hair,
and new, fresh clothing had lifted their spirits.

Gaelen and Nelwyn brought out their finery for the
occasion, and Rogond and Galador were likewise provided with
tailored attire suitable for honored guests. But Gaelen noticed
that Fima had not been provided for. He had packed a spare cloak,
but his clothes were stained and travel-weary. Gaelen went with
Nelwyn to see the King concerning this matter, and after waiting
for what seemed an age, they were brought before him. Gaelen
expressed her concerns, recalling that there had been no mention of
Fima and Thorndil being included at the King’s table.

Ri-Aruin corrected the situation at once, requesting
that Fima be brought before him so that the King might explain his
oversight. The dwarf was most gracious, chuckling to himself as
Ri-Aruin explained that they had no spare raiment on hand that
would likely fit him, but that all haste would be made to provide
it. Thus it was that Fima found himself seated at the King’s table
(the first of his race to do so), wearing drastically altered
garments of blue and gold that had once been worn by the King
himself. The alterations were difficult and had taken much of the
afternoon, but Fima looked positively splendid, eliciting many
curious looks from the Greatwood Elves. He sat to the right of
Rogond, who sat at the right of Gaelen. Wellyn sat at her left,
beside his father. Galador, Nelwyn, and Thorndil sat at the left
hand of the King. To the left of Thorndil was an empty place, set
for Belegund.

The Elves of Tal-sithian had been given a royal
welcome and were seated at their own long table in a position of
honor, to the right of the King. Oryan and Amandir sat at the head,
flanked by their companions, and they rose and drank the health of
the King and of the people of the Greatwood. Amandir looked hard at
Rogond as he spoke, and Rogond heard his voice as though inside his
head:
I will drink your health, Tuathan, for you will have need
of it. We must speak of this matter, and soon.
Rogond nodded
slightly toward him, though his eyes did not show reaction to the
message.

There was a somber underlayment to this merry
gathering, because Gorgon still lived, and the Elves of the
Greatwood would soon be enlisted to aid in hunting him down. This
task would be a daunting one, as they all knew, and lives would be
lost.

Gaelen lifted her glass in remembrance of Belegund;
only she had witnessed his last moments, and she still felt that
she had failed him. "I am sorry, my friend, that I came too late
and with too little skill to aid you," she murmured in a soft
voice. Wellyn perceived the hurt behind her closed eyes, and he
placed a comforting hand on her arm.

He tried to cheer her. "Let us begin our tale-telling
tonight. Meet me by the river, beside the great stones, at the
setting of the moon. I will bring food and wine, and we shall pass
the time until the dawn." Gaelen smiled at him. "Most assuredly, we
shall. And I hope I am strong enough to do justice in the telling.
This is a long, long story my friend. I may need some help—perhaps
Nelwyn could join us, or Rogond and Fima? They also have much to
tell."

"Not tonight, Gaelen. This is our time to renew our
friendship and share thoughts and memories. Tomorrow will be soon
enough for the others. Come alone, if you would enlighten me as
promised. I shall await you."

Gaelen nodded. She had indeed promised him this time,
so many months ago. She then looked at the heavily laden table
before her. "Food we shall not need, Wellyn, but wine may be
welcome. Until the setting of the moon, then." They lifted their
glasses in acknowledgment of the plan.

Fima was truly happy to find himself at a table laden
with delicacies of Elven creation, as over the years he had grown
unaccustomed to being without it. The fare in the Greatwood was
similar to that of Mountain-home, but simpler. The Wood-elves had
not the same access to exotic spices and flavorings, but instead
relied on the herbs and flowers that grew nearby. The wine,
however, was among the best Fima had tasted. The meats were savory
and tender, the greens fresh, and… the mushrooms! They were the
most succulent and flavorful in Fima’s experience, and were black
in color. Finally, huge trays of honey-cakes stuffed with cream and
nuts were set at each table, and the gathering became as merry as
it could be.

Soon the feasting subsided and the telling of tales
began. The Elves of Tal-sithian began to recount stories of the
Lake-realm, and of their adventures since leaving it, including the
frightening account of the disappearance of their friends, and the
finding of the unfortunate remains of those that had been sent
after Gorgon. The Wood-elves were dismayed and clamored to hear
more about this enemy, who had already caused grief among their
people. They feared that he was on a course set for the Greatwood,
and they wished to be counted among those set to defeat him. There
were not a few fierce, resolute expressions among them, for they
were accustomed to defending their lands from all who would
threaten them.

Using the mirror, Gorgon witnessed some of this
activity as he crouched with his followers near the borders of the
Forest Realm. He would not enter it, as it was simply thick with
Wood-elves, whose arrows were deadly and could do serious damage to
his rather small army. The last thing he wanted was to allow Gaelen
and Company to know of his presence there—he could not risk it.
There was too much to be gained in secrecy, and he would not reveal
himself until he was in the position to do the greatest amount of
damage. Besides, it was a warm night, and the Barrens were not far
away.

This was a rather mysterious area of desolate rock
set in the midst of the forest, with many dark hiding places.
Gorgon had decided that for the sake of the Ulcas in his command,
he would set up headquarters there, as the lands were more to their
liking. Kharsh noted this with satisfaction; it was the first time
Gorgon had thought to see to the comforts of his underlings. Of
course, his reasons were purely selfish, as he wanted them fit and
ready for battle, yet Kharsh saw this as Gorgon’s showing some
promise as a field commander.

Normally Ulcas are driven only by fear, and these had
much to fear from Gorgon, but he had realized that they would work
harder and fight better if they were not overly stressed. With this
in mind he arranged to remain in a place where they could hide from
the sun and where water was relatively plentiful. They had made
their way slowly through the north and west of the Darkmere, taking
an entirely different course from that of the Company, for they
knew their ultimate destination. The north of the Darkmere held
little to fear for Gorgon and his Ulcas, and they would reach the
Barrens in a few days’ time.

Gorgon listened to the tale of the Elves of
Tal-sithian. It cheered him to hear the dread in their voices and
to see the dismay on the faces of those assembled. Gorgon reflected
that they had good reason to fear, and chuckled through his pain as
the Elves vowed vengeance. Gorgon was happy to see that Gaelen had
become a person of some importance and was now a central figure in
their planning, for she knew more of Gorgon than anyone. He had
only to remain vigilant, and he would learn what he needed to
know.

The She-elf was beginning to relax and perk up a
little, though it seemed that she was always cold. Gorgon
wondered—did his intrusion affect her thus? So long as the Company
never became aware of the existence of the mirror, they would never
make the connection. Still, he wondered. Even now, full of food and
wine, she drew her cloak about her.

Gorgon would not need to further avail himself of the
mirror this night, as Gaelen would be engaged in telling the tale
of her adventures. He needed to save his strength for more
important matters, as the mirror both pained him and drew his
strength—especially if he opened it and looked within. Luckily,
that had become unnecessary. The connection between Gaelen and
himself had become stronger with time—all he had to do now was hold
the mirror in his hand. In fact, Gaelen’s vision and hearing
vanished completely only when he placed the mirror safely in the
small pouch at his belt.

His own Dark Company would be traveling toward the
Barrens, and he would need the use of his own senses. While Gorgon
held the mirror, he literally could not see through his own eyes,
but was obliged to view only what was seen by Gaelen. He could
still hear through both her ears and his own, though Kharsh had
learned that it was sometimes difficult to gain his attention.

Surmising that he would learn nothing of use this
night, Gorgon put the mirror away, sighing with relief as the pain
left him. He strode out into the night, his minions in tow. They
were well-rested and ready for mayhem, but Kharsh cautioned them
that they needed to remain wary. Even as distant from the King’s
halls as they were, they did not dare risk a chance encounter. They
made their way toward the north and the welcoming Barrens, thoughts
of mayhem put aside for the moment.

Rogond was apprehensive as he stood quietly in the
armory, awaiting the arrival of Amandir. The Elf had indicated that
he wished to continue the conversation that had been interrupted by
Fima some days earlier, and that now was as good a time as any, as
Gaelen had gone to spend the night with Wellyn. It gladdened
Rogond’s heart to see her thus occupied; there was nothing like
being home again. Gaelen was accustomed to spending long weeks away
from her friends and kin, but the intense pursuit over so many
months had drained her, and this had worsened since leaving
Mountain-home.

The tips of Rogond’s fingers were tingling in
anticipation of Amandir’s arrival, and he dreaded the news the Elf
would bring. When Amandir stood before him at last, his expression
was unreadable. Rogond moved to the armory doors, which were of
heavy oak fitted with iron, and pulled them closed with some
difficulty.

"All right, Amandir. Say what you have come to say.
My mind and my heart are open to you."

Amandir drew a weary hand across his eyes, brushing
an errant strand of his long hair from his face. "I wish you to
know that this brings me no pleasure, Tuathan. Having heard what I
have to tell, may you act wisely and quickly, before any more Elven
lives are lost. Remember also your friend who was lost in
Cós-domhain. Gorgon takes victims of all races."

"I have not forgotten him, Amandir," Rogond muttered.
"Get on with it."

Amandir told his tale in a few minutes, leaving
nothing out. When he had finished, Rogond stood, white-faced and
shaken, horrified by what he had heard. Though Amandir’s
conclusions were based mostly on insights gained through the Stone
of Léir, his logic concerning events that had occurred since their
arrival in Tal-sithian was unassailable. For example, Rogond had
not known that the Elves lost near the Cold-spring had met Gaelen
and Nelwyn earlier on the very day they were lost.

Amandir pointed out that Gaelen had witnessed the
conversation regarding the pursuit of the Ulcas by the hapless
Elves of Tal-sithian, so that they were taken by Gorgon, who had
then known of their course. Rogond was now drawing conclusions of
his own concerning events in Cós-domhain. Of course, Gorgon had
known about Tibo, and probably about Noli. This explained why
Gorgon had not killed Gaelen when his chance had come.

What Amandir did not know was how Gorgon was
accomplishing the link with Gaelen, as the Stone had provided no
specifics. Rogond knew that there were many mysteries in Alterra of
which he was unaware, and he wished at that moment that his
knowledge was vast enough to gain understanding. But alas, only one
such as Fima, who had spent much of his life studying such things,
might possess the insight needed to enlighten them. Suddenly Rogond
brightened—he would seek Fima’s aid at once. He turned to
Amandir.

"I now understand your concerns, Amandir, although I
still disapprove of your treatment of Gaelen. I would appreciate it
if, in the future, you would at least attempt to conceal your ill
feelings toward her—it would make things so much easier for
everyone. It might keep you from the wrong end of an axe, as well.
I must go now and seek wisdom so that I may know how to proceed.
Thank you for finally revealing this matter to me, though I hear it
with great pain and doubt."

Amandir looked upon Rogond with disdain. "You would
not have heard me had I chosen earlier to impart it to you,
Tuathan. And as for the dwarf, I will not waste my time worrying
for my safety. He is an insignificant player in this affair. I
enlighten you because you are at serious risk, as are any of my
race who stand within her sight and hearing. As for concealing my
feelings, do not fear, for I intend to place myself as far from her
influence as I possibly can. It is my expectation that she will
eventually draw this creature forth to where he may be killed. That
is my sole reason for being among you. I pray only that few lives
will be lost as a result, though I hold little hope." Rogond shook
his head. "You are determined that I shall not ever find you
winsome, aren’t you? Very well, distance yourself if you will.
Again, my sympathy lies with you in this matter, and I would aid
you if I could."

Amandir suppressed a cold smile at Rogond’s sarcasm,
his ancient eyes gleaming from his young, unmarred face. "You
cannot fathom the nature of my grief, and I neither want nor need
your sympathy. I have lived without it through the long years, and
I shall not require it now. When Gorgon is dead, I shall go to join
my beloved, and we shall at last give up our pain. Save your
sympathy for those who will have need of it, including yourself."
He turned and moved the armory doors with strength that surpassed
Rogond’s. Then, with one last look over his shoulder, he left.