Such were the ways of Colton’s corruption.
Chapter Twenty-six
Filaree stared in wonder as the lifts rose high into the enormous trees overhead. She fought back a brief feeling of vertigo as she watched the ground fall away beneath her. Cairn laughed quietly to himself, clearly mesmerized by the scene unfolding around them. Calyx sat back upon his haunches, his fur shimmering and shining, and he closed his big eyes while the lift ascended into the Heights. Robyn remained steadfast, neither looking at the scenery, nor conversing with any of the elves who greeted them here in Seramour. As was his way, he remained withdrawn and deliberative, so very much like a Chosen.
As soon as the platform rose above the tree line, a small but powerful hand reached out to grasp Filaree’s. She gladly accepted the help, and with it she stepped over the railing of the wooden scaffold onto the solid surface that beckoned to her. The first thing she saw was the piercing blue eyes of Treestar staring deeply at her, worry dominating his stately features.
“Where is my son? Where is Elion?” he asked immediately.
Robyn turned his head toward them and responded without any hesitation, prepared to provide him with the disappointing news.
“I am sorry to tell you, your Highness, but he is not here with us. I wish I could offer you more information as to his exact whereabouts, but alas, I cannot. He and two others, Tomas, the young man Baladar informed you of, and Preston Daggerfall, a dwarf from the Thorndars, separated from us at the onset of our journey. They did not inform us as to where they were going, or why they chose to leave,” Robyn said in a calm, mesmerizing voice, seeking not to alarm Elion’s father any more than he already was.
Treestar raised his lordly head and gazed out over the treetops northward, far into the distance as if he were searching for his son. Before speaking, he glanced at the tower of the castle, which rose conspicuously in the distance. After a long moment of silence, he looked at the group that had just arrived with an expression of stoic acceptance.
“My wife, the Queen, shall be sorely let down,” he said.
It was unnecessary for him to express in words his own regret, as it was obvious to all. His eyes were half closed, his thoughts elsewhere, as the King of the southern elves assisted his newly arrived guests out of the lift and onto the solid ground of Seramour.
Robyn, Filaree and Cairn assembled next to one another slightly behind the pensive elf. Calyx kept his distance from the throng of soldiers, as they did likewise from him. He turned his broad head left and right and stretched his forepaws, fully extending his enormous claws for them all to see, though acting as if he was merely relaxing. Finally he yawned, and in so doing he exposed the rows of saber sharp teeth to the elfin guards. Cairn glanced backward at his friend and silently admonished him, though he smiled inwardly at Calyx’s actions. The Moulant was merely making his presence known in Seramour in his own fashion.
Treestar noticed his guests behind him, and he motioned for them to join him and walk by his side toward the center of the city and the castle, where they would be residing during their time here. Cairn was the first to step forward, so aware of the sadness in the old elf’s eyes. He placed his hand firmly upon his shoulder and signaled to him his understanding. Treestar looked upon him deeply, and wordlessly acknowledged his support. Robyn and Filaree soon inched forward as well, and the four began the long walk down the colorful street into the heart of Seramour.
Treestar pounded Robyn on the back. “We shall speak no further of my son until you are settled in my home. I wish to hear the news with my wife at my side. In the meanwhile, tell me of your own journey.”
They walked and walked, and each of the three admired the city in his or her own way. Filaree was amazed at the way the avenues were constructed, clearly designed to thwart any enemy who could ever breach the formidable defenses to begin with. She recognized immediately the ingenious way in which the city was laid out, divided as it was into sections devoted to different uses and different trades. She appreciated the system of lifts for its defensive qualities, and she saw in the distance what was unmistakably the garrison and munitions areas. They were so perfectly aligned and so meticulously kept, that even from this far away she knew that she was going to learn a lot from these formidable warriors.
Cairn could not help but appreciate the symmetry of the city. Each plank and each baked brick was so well proportioned and yet so unique, that he felt it mirrored the balance in nature itself. The use of elfin made materials along with what nature provided was blended in such a wonderful and well balanced manner that he could not help but marvel at the harmony of it all. His eyes continued to dart from left to right, and his vision was being inundated with images, each more beautiful than the previous one.
Robyn walked with his dark eyes half closed, shrouded by his long, jet black hair that hung to his shoulders. He sensed the great power resident in this miraculous city. And he sensed the heir. Something else though, intruded upon these feelings at the same time, and he tried to focus upon it and separate it from the pleasant assault upon his senses caused by the latent strength of this amazing city and its especial occupant. He peeked over his shoulder as he walked, his attention captured by the darkening sky to the south.
“How long have the clouds been hovering like that?” he asked Treestar.
The elf responded, lips pursed, clearly aware of them himself. “It has been over two weeks now. They neither move nor dissipate.”
“They are not ordinary clouds,” Robyn commented slowly, while staring deeply into them.
“Yes, I know,” the elfin King replied softly.
The group continued, discussing trivial matters until they neared the shadow cast by the imposing towers of the castle.
“These spires rise so delicately, yet they are so high. I admire your craftsmanship,” Filaree remarked.
“They are truly beautiful. As is everything else here,” Cairn commented, perusing the area with his yellow eyes.
“This is a city like no other on earth,” Robyn said with pride, as if it was his own home.
As they neared the large wooden doors of the castle, they could see that they were open wide, and the warm sounds of music, along with wonderful odors that caused Calyx’s jowls to drool precipitously, greeted them. In the distance, standing regally just inside the heavily carved portals, was Elsinestra with her delicate hands clasped together before her. She stood with her head held high and her eyes half closed.
When the group reached the rune encrusted courtyard and stepped across the ancient markings that welcomed guests and warded off unwanted visitors, the beautiful woman approached, with both of her arms raised in greeting, as if to embrace them. She did not break her stride, nor did she seem to quail at the absence of her son from the contingent. Treestar looked at her, eyes steeled, and allowed her first to greet the guests before nearing him.
“Welcome to Seramour. Your arrival has been long awaited,” she said so warmly and so sincerely that they all felt immediately at ease. “Come,” she beckoned. “Enter and refresh yourselves. Your journey must have been long and tedious.”
She extended her graceful arm and led the way into the castle.
“I pray that Baladar, my dear friend, was well when you left him,” she continued. “It is too long since we last met. Time seems never to acknowledge affection. It passes regardless,” she said.
“Baladar sends his most sincere greetings,” Cairn replied, bowing slightly as he spoke. “He too regrets that he could not be here now. But, he has much to do in Pardatha, and he did not feel that it would have been either appropriate or prudent for him to journey so far from his home after the recent travail.”
“I fully understand. I would wish to remain with my people too under the circumstances,” she said, and she gazed upon the scholar with warm and understanding eyes. “And what of my son? What of Elion?” she asked quietly. “I had hoped that he would have returned home with you,” she questioned, unable to withhold her concern any longer.
Treestar was disheartened by his wife’s remark. It belied just how deeply unsettled she was. Elsinestra never allowed her personal concerns to color her public appearance, and he blamed himself for not finding some way to forewarn her of Elion’s absence. He did not want rumors of their concern to spread among the already worried population, and too many people were present now. The King walked beside her and placed his hand upon her shoulder comfortingly.
“Once our guests are settled I am sure they will inform us as best as they can,” the King said, feeling guilty that he knew more than his wife did at this moment. “Suffice it for now that he is not among them.”
Elsinestra looked at him questioningly and he gazed away.
“Well then,” she said. “I shall burden you with no further questions until later. There is much we will need to discuss it seems. In the meanwhile, please accept our hospitality,” she said, tilting her head slightly as she led them into the Great Hall of the palace.
They were both stunned by the disappointment of the moment although their tender concern was not obvious to the others. Treestar squeezed her hand and sought to reassure her. She returned the gesture though her thoughts were upon her son, and they would not subside again until she learned of his fate.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Yes, Marne. These are fine. Dispatch them now as quickly as you can,” Queen Esta said.
“They will leave this very moment, your Highness. We should have a response as soon as he can safely reply.”
“Make certain that they are not intercepted. It would not serve us well to have our eyes and our ears blinded and silenced at this important juncture in time. We will need all our resources in the days ahead,” she said.
“My methods are sound, my Lady, and Jareth is a loyal and honorable contact. They will reach him in Talamar, with no incertitude,” the loyal woman responded.
“Good, Marne. I have faith in you, as always,” she replied, and she sincerely meant her words.
The Queen walked to the large leaded window, and gazed out across the spires and rooftops of the city, and over the forest that ringed Avalain to the south. She wished only that she could see as far as Pardatha, to look upon her daughter once more and know that she was safe.
“It is so difficult in times like these,” she sighed.
“Yes, my Queen. I know. The days ahead will be no easier.”
“Nay Marne, no doubt. I fear they will try us to the very limits. We are of good stuff, you and I. We will endure. Our people are stalwart and strong. They have suffered hardship before, though I suspect that the approaching storms are far more intense than any we have yet sustained. We must accept what we cannot alter. It is not for us to determine what trials we must bear. All that we can do is be examples for our society,” Esta exhaled. “As a parent is to a child, so must I be to my people. I must never waiver in the face of uncertainty, but rather stamp each moment with a renewed commitment to life,” the Queen asserted.
“As you have always done, your Highness,” Marne said, bowing respectfully to her Queen.
“Go now. Find out what you can. Whatever assets we have assembled, we must now utilize.”
“I will come to you with the news as soon as it arrives, my Lady.”
Esta stood up straight. “Whatever hour it may arrive, Marne. Do not stand on precedence with me.”
“If he is alone and not preoccupied, I hope I will have information for you before the sun rises.”
“The sooner the better. We cannot delay one moment longer in our preparations, and the sooner we know what state the Duchy of Talamar is in, the faster we can ready what we must,” she replied as she opened the heavy door and escorted her trusted assistant out.
“Sleep well, your Highness. We know not how much longer we will yet have to rest before the winds bring the conflagration to our door.”
“I surmise none too long, good Marne. Now is perhaps our final respite,” Esta said downcast as she pushed the oaken door shut.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Come, follow me,” Elion directed his companions. They were ascending a small, rocky hill that marked the end of the roughest of the terrain that they had yet traversed. The sun was about to set, and the warm glow that normally calmed them in the early evening hours, gave them only cause for concern this night.
“Why is the air so heavy?” Preston asked, innocent and wide-eyed.
“It blows to us from the south,” Tomas replied, as if that was explanation enough.
“You mean to say that Caeltin’s reach has extended this far already?” Elion questioned, surmising the boy’s meaning.
Preston turned with a start and stared at the elfin Prince.
“Yes, I fear. It is an unnatural dampness, not simply the result of the moisture. It makes even breathing difficult,” Tomas answered.
“What do you think he is trying to do?” the young dwarf asked.
“Demoralize the people in its path. Make everyone aware of his presence and his power. Cause as much heartache and fear as possible,” Elion responded.
“It is more than that, I am afraid, Elion,” Tomas said seriously. “The warmth radiates northward. Even the soil is warm,” the boy said while bending down and digging his fingers into a small area of soft earth between the boulders. “He disrupts the patterns, and this discontinuity can only cause more problems elsewhere, problems in the earth itself.”
Tomas stood up and looked southward. He raised his chin and breathed the air deeply, closing his eyes and holding his breath for a brief moment. His blonde hair rustled in the breeze, and he looked just like any young boy out on a pleasant afternoon’s walk. When he opened his eyes again though, they were no longer calm. Elion and Preston immediately noted the change in his demeanor, but before they could even question him, he spoke.
“We must go! Now. At once,” he barked. He was more anxious than either of them could recall. “He will know about us soon, and we must be far away from here as soon as possible.” He strode to his pony and hoisted himself up into the saddle. “He knows where my brother is,” he said almost as an aside, his moment of agitation retreating into his normally complacent demeanor.
Elion did not question Tomas’ words. He knew that he would never speak rashly, and he also knew that the boy was rarely mistaken about these things. He had grown accustomed to not questioning how he gained his information. When Tomas made a statement, it was a statement of fact.
The others climbed on their mounts and clicked them forward, catching up quickly to the blonde haired boy who had assumed the lead.
“What do you expect we will discover in Parth?” Preston asked, unsure even as to what type of a place it was to begin with.
“I am not certain,” Tomas replied quizzically, as if this was the first time he contemplated that question. “The Tower of Parth is a sacred place. I am able to determine little about it from without. Maybe as we get closer, I will understand better.”
“Is it not a place of learning?” Elion inquired. “I remember always hearing that the Sisters of Parth were scholars of some sort. But I have to admit, no one ever really said exactly what they did there. I just assumed that they were a group of people devoted to their own personal pursuits and that they sought the refuge of the Tower in order to live in peace, sort of like the men who gave up their lives to study in the library at Cosacteris.”
“It was always best that people believed that. Ormachon bade me travel there once. From county Pardeau it was not that long a journey. I did no more than stand outside the walls and gaze through the few windows that I could see. I spoke to a Sister or two who happened to amble by during their daily chores. Their minds were closed to me, even then. They were clearly good women. There was not an evil spark among them. Yet, I could discern no purpose, no reason for their being there together, though I knew that something of great importance lay within their walls. I could almost feel it. But, I could have gained no more information if I remained there for ten tiels. Ormachon laughed at me when I returned, and he told me that in time I will discover the mystery of Parth. I never forgot about it, yet it did not occur to me to return until now.”
“So what do you think we will find this time, that you were unable to ascertain in the past?” Elion asked.
“Things change, Elion. Much has been altered in this world since then,” Tomas said sadly. “When the time is not right for knowledge to be had, then the tablet remains blank to us.”
“And when it is the right time, maybe we will be able to read the words that were present all along,” Elion concluded his thought.
“Exactly,” Tomas smiled at the elf.
“I hope you two are right. The thought of being in a place with, how many? Twelve women all without husbands and families, all with mysterious purposes and with no one but each other to talk to, kind of scares me,” Preston said. “You know, I remember now that my grandmother used to make fun of me sometimes, and she would say, ‘Preston Daggerfall, if you grow any taller you will be able to look right into the Tower of Parth.’ Do you know why she would have said that?”
“Yes, Preston. The tower is very tall and very strong, and it only has windows at the top,” Tomas said.
“Oh. So that’s what she meant. It figures,” he said, frowning.
“Well Preston, I am sure that if she knew now that you were really on your way to the tower of Parth, she would not be laughing, but she would be very proud,” Elion replied, trying to comfort the disgruntled dwarf.
“We all three are different in our own ways. Differences make our similarities all that much more important. Our purpose is the same, is it not?” Tomas asked.
“I guess so,” Preston hesitated, though still feeling sorry for himself.
“When we find the Gem, no one will be laughing, least of all Colton,” Elion remarked.
With that, Preston finally allowed a smile to break across his solemn face, at which point Tomas began to laugh and Elion too soon joined in. By the time the three travelers began their ascent up the steep escarpment that signaled the beginning of the Cliffs of the Freemen, they were laughing so hard that they could barely breathe and it seemed, for the first time since they parted company with their companions from Pardatha, as if they had not a care in the world.