“Come,” Danica whispered into Cadderly’s ear, pulling him by the hand back out of the glade.
“No!” Cadderly replied, twisting from her grasp. “What will you do?” he snapped at Galladel. He approached the elf king, sitting directly across the glade, pushing right by the shocked Elbereth on his way.
“I have heard many admit that the force opposing Shilmista is too great for the elves to defeat,” Cadderly went on. “I have heard that no help will arrive in time or in sufficient numbers to save the forest. If all that is so then what will you do?”
“That is what we have gathered here to discuss … privately,” the stern elf king replied.
“Then what have you decided?” Cadderly shot back, not backing down in the least. “Are you to run away, leave the forest for the invaders?”
Galladel stood and met Cadderly’s determined stare with one equally unyielding. Cadderly heard Danica rushing to corral him then heard, to his surprise, Elbereth intercept her.
“Most will go,” Galladel admitted. “Some—” he spoke the word callously and looked pointedly at Elbereth as he uttered it—“wish to stay and fight, determined to hinder and punish the enemy until they have joined their kin in death.”
“And you will go … to the Edificant Library?” Cadderly asked. “Then away west from there, to Evermeet?”
Galladel nodded. “Our time in Shilmista, in Faerûn, has passed, young priest,” he admitted, and Cadderly could see that the words pained him deeply.
Cadderly was not unsympathetic, and he didn’t doubt the truth of Galladel’s claims, but there were other ramifications to their actions that the elves apparently had not considered, most prominently the fate of the rest of the Southern Heartlands.
“As an emissary of the Edificant Library, I can assure you that you and your People will be welcomed there for as long as you wish to stay,” Cadderly replied. “But as one who has seen what befell the library, and now Shilmista, I must beg you to reconsider your course. If the forest falls, then so, too, shall the men of the mountains, and of the lake and city to the east. The enemy must not be allowed so easy or so complete a victory.”
Galladel seemed on the verge of exploding. “You would sacrifice us?” he growled, his face only inches from Cadderly’s. “You would give the lives of my People, that a few men might survive? We owe you nothing! Do you believe it is with light hearts that we surrender our homeland? I have lived in Shilmista since before your precious library was even constructed.”
Cadderly wanted to argue that Galladel’s own claims proved that Shilmista was worth fighting for then, and that every possibility, even an attempt to awaken the trees, should be exhausted before the elves fled their homes. The young scholar couldn’t, though. He could find nothing to throw against Galladel’s outrage, nothing to diminish the elf king’s ire. When Danica again came to him and pulled him toward the glade, he did not resist.
“I thought I could help them,” he said to her, not looking back at Galladel.
“We all wish to help,” Danica replied. “That is our frustration.”
They said nothing more as they walked slowly away and heard an argument raging behind them within the ring of pines. When they were back at the campsite with Kierkan Rufo and the dwarf brothers, the weight of the world seemed to bow Cadderly’s shoulders.
They were surprised later, when Elbereth, Shayleigh, and Tintagel came to join them.
“You are certain that you have the runes deciphered?” Elbereth asked, his jaw firm and eyes staring hard at Cadderly.
“I am certain,” Cadderly replied, jumping to his feet, suspecting what the bold elf prince had in mind.
The expressions splayed across the faces of both Shayleigh and Tintagel revealed their discomfort.
“What was the council’s decision?” Danica asked of Elbereth. She rose beside Cadderly and looked hard at the elf prince.
Elbereth didn’t retreat from her gaze. “By my father’s word, the People will depart the forest,” he admitted. “We surrender the ground in exchange for our lives, and never shall we return.”
“It was not an easy decision for Galladel to come by,” Tintagel offered. “Your father has witnessed the deaths of many elves these last days.”
The statement stung Elbereth, as Tintagel, obviously not pleased with Elbereth’s intentions, apparently had hoped it would.
“Their deaths will have been in vain if the enemy is handed Shilmista,” the elf prince declared. “We have options still, and I will not leave until they are exhausted.”
“You plan to awaken the trees,” Cadderly reasoned.
“Oo oi!” piped in a happy Pikel, who dearly wanted to see such druidlike magic.
All three elves cast a disconcerting look the round-shouldered dwarf’s way.
“Oo,” Pikel chirped, and he lowered his eyes.
“With your help,” Elbereth said to Cadderly, “we shall recapture the magic of days long past. We shall turn the forest against our enemies and drive them back to their mountain holes.”
Cadderly was excited by the thought, but he saw that he and Elbereth, and perhaps Pikel, were the only ones holding out much hope.
“Your father does not believe that,” Danica reminded the prince.
“He will not approve your actions,” added Shayleigh.
“How can we leave until we have tried?” Elbereth asked. “If we fail, then we shall go along with Galladel’s plans, and what have we lost? If we succeed, if the forest comes to life, if great trees walk beside us as allies …”
Tintagel and Shayleigh managed somewhat hopeful smiles. Danica looked to Cadderly, doubting, but ready to support him in whatever manner he required.
“I’m ready to show you the words,” Cadderly said. “Together we shall find the song of Dellanil Quil’quien and implore the trees to our side!”
The three elves took their leave then, and Cadderly, visage set firm, took up the ancient book and opened it to the appropriate passage.
Danica wanted to tell him of the futility, wanted to warn him of the dire consequences his failure might have on the elven host’s already weakened morale, but looking at her love sitting so stern and determined as he pored through the book, she could not find the words.
None of them noticed Kierkan Rufo quietly slip away.
The elves will depart? came the telepathic voice, revealing the imp’s excitement. What defenses will they leave behind? And what of young Cadderly? Tell me of Cadderly!
“Leave me alone!” Rufo screamed back. “You have gained enough from me. Go and question another.” The man could sense the imp’s distant laughter.
“The elves will depart,” Rufo admitted, hoping to mask the more important news with something the enemy would discern soon enough in any case.
And that’s all? came the expected question.
“That’s all,” Rufo replied. “A few may remain, just to slow your advance, but the rest will go, never to return.”
And what of Cadderly?
“He will go with them, back to the library,” Rufo lied, knowing that to reveal anything else would invariably lead him into the middle of another conspiracy.
Again came the reverberations of the imp’s distant laughter. You have not told me all, came his thoughts, but you have revealed more than you intended simply by trying to hide that which you cannot. I will be with you, Kierkan Rufo, every step. And know that your unwillingness to cooperate will be revealed once our conquest is complete, once you face my mistress. I assure you that she is not a merciful victor. Go and reconsider your course and your untruths. Think of the path that lies ahead for Kierkan Rufo.
Rufo felt the connection break, then he was alone, stumbling through the woods, a haunted man.
Danica was glad of the change that came over Cadderly, whatever the outcome of their desperate attempt. She knew that Cadderly was a sensitive man, frustrated by the violence that had been forced upon him and by the destruction of so many wondrous things, both in beaut
iful Shilmista and back in the Edificant Library. Danica didn’t doubt Cadderly’s willingness to fight back however he could. They stood in the same glade that the elves had used earlier for council, wanting their attempt to be private in case it failed, as Galladel had predicted. Watching Cadderly and Elbereth in their preparations for the ceremony, the young scholar tutoring the elf on particular inflections and movements, Danica almost allowed herself to believe that the trees of Shilmista would awaken, and that the forest would be saved.
Tintagel, Shayleigh, and Pikel, beside Danica, seemed to hold similar, though unspoken hopes. Ivan merely grumbled a stream of complaints, though, thinking that they should all be out “clobberin’ orcs” instead of wasting their time calling to “trees that ain’t got ears!”
Several other elves appeared when Elbereth began the song, an even-paced, melodic chant that reverberated under the mystic evening canopy.
Pikel nearly swooned and began a dance, graceful by dwarven standards, but a bit strained in an elven wood. Still, Tintagel and Shayleigh couldn’t help smiling when they saw the would-be druid, his green-dyed, braided beard bouncing about his shoulders with every twirl.
Then Galladel stepped between Shayleigh and Danica, his scowl threatening the magical aura as surely as would a goblin attack.
“Do not disturb them, I beg you,” Danica whispered to the elf king, and to her surprise, he nodded gravely and remained quiet. He glanced over to Pikel and frowned, then turned his attention back to his son, who was fully immersed in the ancient song.
Danica watched the elf king’s eyes well with tears, and she knew that Galladel looked upon an image of himself centuries ago, that he recalled that time when he had failed to awaken the trees at the cost of many elves’ lives.
Elbereth’s song reached out to Shilmista. Danica couldn’t understand the words, but they seemed fitting for the forest, almost otherworldly and even more purely elven than Daoine Teague Feer had seemed. Those elves, and many had come, gathered around the small glade’s fringes, did not even whisper among themselves—did nothing but listen to their prince’s enchanting call.
A wolf howled somewhere in the distance. Another took up the call, and another in response to that.
Then, too suddenly it seemed, Elbereth was done. He stood in the center of the glade, Cadderly moving beside him, and they, and all those around them, waited with held breath for Shilmista to respond.
There came nothing, save the howl of the wolves and the lamenting keen of the evening wind.
“Trees ain’t got ears,” Ivan muttered after a long while.
“I told you it would not work,” Galladel berated them, the anticipation of the moment stolen by the wide-eyed dwarf’s comment. “Are you finished with your folly? Might we get along with the business of saving our People?”
The look Elbereth gave Cadderly showed only remorse. “We have tried,” the elf prince offered. “At least we have tried.” He turned and walked slowly away to rejoin his father.
Truly perplexed, Cadderly stood in the middle of the glade, moving the beam of his light tube across the text of the ancient book.
“It was worth the attempt,” said Danica as she and the dwarf brothers came over to join him.
“Worthy indeed,” came a tittering voice that they recognized at once.
In unison, they turned and spotted Hammadeen the dryad standing beside a pine opposite from where Galladel and the others had just departed.
“What do you know?” Cadderly demanded, heading for the dryad. “You must tell us! The trees did not respond to the call, and you know the reason.”
“Oh, they did hear!” Hammadeen replied, clapping her hands happily. She moved behind the pine and was gone, reappearing a moment later behind another tree many feet from the volatile young man. “They did!”
“Have they begun their march upon our enemies?” Cadderly breathed, hardly daring to believe.
Hammadeen’s laughter mocked his hopes. “Of course they have not!” the dryad chirped. “These trees are young. They have not the power of the ancients. You are in the wrong place, do you not understand?”
Cadderly’s crestfallen look was matched by Danica’s and Pikel’s expressions. Ivan just grumbled something, huffed, and stormed away.
“But the trees in this part of the forest have heard the elves’ song,” Hammadeen offered to brighten their mood, “and they are pleased by it.”
“Lot o’ good that’ll do ’em,” the departing Ivan chided.
Danica echoed the thoughts of the remaining three perfectly when she whispered, “How pleased will the trees be to hear the crack of orcs’ axes?”
Hammadeen stopped laughing and faded into the pine.
The four companions were on the trail south later that same night, joined by Kierkan Rufo. Many elves accompanied them, though the fair folk did not walk the straight trails, as Cadderly and his friends had been told to do. Rather, they dipped in and out of the shadows to the sides, wary though weary, and those who were not riding often kept to the trees, crossing silently among high and intertwined branches.
Shayleigh found the travelers and dropped from her horse to walk beside them, but her presence did little to comfort them, particularly when it became apparent that she couldn’t look Cadderly in the eye.
“They are fighting again, behind us,” the elf maiden said, “as it shall be all the way out of Shilmista.”
“Stupid orcs,” Ivan muttered, and that was the only response forthcoming from the group.
“This time it would seem King Galladel was correct,” Shayleigh went on.
“We had nothing to lose,” Cadderly replied, a bit more sharply than he had intended.
“But we did,” said Shayleigh. “Word has spread of our failure. All the elves know that Shilmista will not rise beside them. Our hearts are heavy. Few will remain beside Elbereth as he continues to hinder the enemy.”
Both Cadderly and Danica started to say something, but Ivan promptly diffused their stubborn enthusiasm.
“No, ye won’t!” the dwarf insisted to the two of them. “Ye won’t be staying, nor will me or me brother.”
“Oo,” said Pikel sadly.
“This ain’t our place,” Ivan roared on. “And there ain’t a thing we can do now to slow them monsters down! Too many of the damned things!”
Shayleigh left them then, and Danica and Cadderly couldn’t even muster the strength to bid her farewell.
EIGHTEEN
A WOOD WORTH FIGHTING FOR
Danica noticed a change in her companion during their long and dismal walk. It started with Cadderly glancing all around, staring into Shilmista’s shadows, his gray eyes rimmed with wetness. But the tears never came. Instead they were replaced by an anger so profound the young scholar could hardly keep his breathing steady, could hardly keep his fists unclenched.
He dropped out of the retreating line and pulled his pack off his back, offering no explanation to Danica, Rufo, or the dwarf brothers as they moved beside him.
“A bit of reading for the road?” Ivan asked, seeing Cadderly take out the ancient book of Dellanil Quil’quien.
“It should have worked,” Cadderly replied. “The words were spoken correctly. Every syllable was as King Dellanil spoke them centuries ago.”
“Of course they were,” said Danica. “No one in all Shilmista doubts the sincerity of your attempt or that your heart was for the forest.”
“Flattery?” Cadderly barked at her, his voice more full of anger than it ever had been toward his love.
Danica backed away a step, stunned.
“Oo,” moaned Pikel.
“Ye’ve no right to be speaking to the lady that way,” Ivan said, slapping his axe loudly against his open hand.
Cadderly nodded in agreement but would not let his embarrassment steal his mounting determination. “The summons must work,” he declared. “We have nothing else—Shilmista has no other hope.”
“Then we have nothing at all,” Ivan replied. �
��Ye heard the wood sprite yerself. Ye’re in the wrong place, lad. Shilmista will not come to yer call.”
Cadderly looked around at the trees that had deceived him, searching for escape from the apparent finality of the dryad’s claims. A thought struck him then, one so simple but it had not occurred to any of them.
“Hammadeen didn’t say that,” Cadderly told Ivan. The scholar turned to include the others in his revelation.
Danica’s head tilted curiously. “The dryad’s words were direct enough,” she argued.
“Hammadeen said we were in the wrong place,” Cadderly replied. “We took that to mean that Shilmista was the wrong place. Hammadeen said the trees heard the call. How wide an area was she speaking of?”
“What are ye babbling about?” Ivan demanded. “What other ‘area’ might there be?”
“Think of where we were when Elbereth read the incantation,” Cadderly prompted.
“The clearing,” Ivan replied at once.
“But the trees around that grove!” Cadderly said. “Think of the trees.”
“I’m not for telling one tree from another,” Ivan protested. “Ask me brother if ye’re wanting to know—”
“Not what sort of trees they were,” Cadderly explained, “but their age.”
“The camp was surrounded by young growth,” Danica realized. “Even the circling pines were not so tall.”
“Yes, too young,” Cadderly explained. “Those trees weren’t alive when Dellanil intoned the ancient words, not alive even when Galladel tried to awaken the wood. They didn’t exist when magic still filled Shilmista’s air.”
“Would that matter?” Danica asked. “A spell—”
“This isn’t a spell,” Cadderly interrupted. “It’s a call to a once-sentient forest. The new trees might still speak so that a dryad would hear, but they have lost the ability to walk beside the elves. But the oldest ones, the ones from Dellanil’s time, may not have.”
“If any of those remain,” Danica stated.
In Sylvan Shadows Page 21
