Turning to leave, he caught sight of a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. Kneeling down to investigate, he pulled a bedraggled doll from the midst of the ruin. Her dress had been yellow once and the paint had all but faded from the canvas face. Sebastian thought of the little girl that must have been the owner of this doll. On her way to visit the elves, perhaps. Maybe just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It made him think of Bernice, his young niece who had been cut down so young. All the more reason to find the Moonstone and finish their mission. Gabirel and Uriasz were the ones to stand up to Sterling Lex, but they had to go through the Krenon first. Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he let the doll fall back into the dust as he turned to leave.
A few minutes later, he was back down in the common room with Krystelle. Between the two of them they had found enough bedding to put together three pallets. That task finished, he stood and prepared to head back out, “I’m going to do some hunting,” he announced.
“Not so fast,” said Krystelle. “We need to do some sword-work. Both of us have been too tired carrying Cenric until today and you need to keep practicing. There will be time for hunting after.” Grabbing her sword, Krystelle headed for the door. Sebastian had seen the look on her face, she was not going to give on this and she clearly expected him to follow and fall in line. There was no sense in arguing. Besides, he knew she was right.
The rest of the morning, Krystelle put Sebastian through his paces practicing sword-forms and sparring. By the time she called a halt, Sebastian’s muscles screamed and the sweat poured off him. “Not bad today,” she said. “We will do it again tomorrow. Now go take a dip in that stream before you do your hunting.” She wrinkled her nose, “You stink.”
“As my lady commands,” he said, giving her a mock bow. “I would not want to offend your delicate nose.”
She laughed and pointed toward the stream, “Go!”
The rest of that day and the next proceeded in much the same vein. They busied themselves caring for Cenric, who already showed signs of improvement by the end of the first day. Hunting, practicing with the sword, and just talking. It was a pleasant time, and Sebastian could almost forget their mission and the danger waiting back at the Dazhberg, if only the stakes were not so high. Their gamble worked. Cenric woke the next morning clear of head for the first time since his near-drowning. “Sebastian! Krystelle! I feel so much better,” he said.
A flood of relief washed over Sebastian. He had not realized until that moment how worried he had been that they would have to do as Krystelle had said and abandon Cenric. Pretending to make light of Cenric’s recovery, he rolled over on his pallet, covering his face with his arm. “Oh good. Now let me sleep a bit more.”
Krystelle was a bit more positive, “Wonderful Cenric! It’s good to have you back with us.” She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. “We should be able to make much better progress with you well.”
“I don’t even really know where we’re going. Everything is just a blur since the cave and the river. All the walking and climbing and slipping. Did you really have to carry me sometimes, Sebastian? I remember you both talking about a gate? Are we close? Did I slow us down too much? I hope I didn’t. We have a mission!”
Cenric was back alright, and it was a good thing. They were going to need him.
#
Eimhin rode along in haze, set on the trail of Baladeva’s prey like a bloodhound with the scent of a prize buck. They had not been able to follow Sebastian and his friends through the mountain, so Eimhin led the way through the mountain pass just to the north of the Dazhberg.
Every step of the way, Eimhin fought to regain control of his own mind. Each time his thoughts began to clear, Baladeva brought out that stone again and Eimhin plummeted back into confusion. The very first afternoon he had attempted to lead their party away from the main trail and down a game path that led to nowhere. No sooner had he set foot in that direction, Baladeva had pulled him up short. It was as if the Krenon leader could read his mind! Even in those moments when Baladeva was not paying strict attention, one or both of the soldiers he had brought along prevented any hope of escape. Eimhin had just enough presence of mind for frustration to build with every passing hour.
Each morning, when he woke, it started again. That pull. It was an ache deep in his bones that told him what direction to go and how far they were from their prize. That morning he had known they were close. They would catch up to Sebastian and his friends that very day. Filled with desperation at the knowledge he was betraying the three, Eimhin searched for a way of escape.
“We are gaining on them, aren’t we, dwarf?” said Baladeva, not waiting for an answer. “I can sense your discomfort. I caution you not to do anything foolish. Without my hound to lead the way, I would still have a way to track your friends. You know this to be true. Take care you don’t outlive your own usefulness.”
The Krenon spoke truth. All that Sebastian had done at Cinaeth would be a beacon for one with his power. Why expend yourself when you had a dog to hunt for you? That was how Baladeva had put it when he cast the spell forcing Eimhin to lead this chase.
Eimhin steeled himself to patience. An opportunity would come, he just had to be alert to take advantage of it. In the meanwhile, he did not want to do anything that would cause Baladeva to bring out that stone and befuddle his thoughts again. He focused on doing exactly what the Krenon wanted; track down Sebastian.
Late in the afternoon, his opportunity came as the trail led them along the edge of a steep gully. It would be risky, but at least he would have a chance of escaping. Slowing his horse, he allowed the other three riders to bunch up behind him. When the moment came, he whispered a word of apology to the horse, slipped his feet from the stirrups and dug his heels deep into her flanks.
Horse bucking in pain, Eimhin threw himself from the saddle. Tumbling down into the gully, he could see the chaos his move had caused. Spooked, the other three horses fought against their riders, throwing at least one of the soldiers.
Crashing through the underbrush at the bottom, Eimhin did not have time to see if there was any further effect. Scraped and bruised, he threw himself into the underbrush and darted inside the small cave he had spotted from above. He was gambling that neither the two soldiers nor Baladeva had the sight to spy out the naturally concealed cavern the way a dwarf could.
He pushed back into the small cave as far as he could, listening to the shouting coming from above. Apparently his gambit had worked even better than he anticipated. It sounded as though the horses had bolted, leaving the two soldiers and the Krenon to proceed on foot. Good, he thought, that will make it an even playing field.
Crouching in the cool moist of the cavern, he could feel the injuries he had sustained in his tumble down the hillside. Suspecting his left arm was broken, he put it out of his mind. All he wanted to do was get to Sebastian and the others to warn them.
Hearing the sound of someone pushing through the gully, he tensed. One of the soldiers had made his way down into the gully to search for the dwarf. Listening to the footsteps approach his cave, Eimhin prepared himself to fight. He was in no condition for a brawl, but he was determined not to be taken again.
He could just see the soldier making his way along the gully through the brush covering the entrance to his cave,. The soldier stopped, bending down to take a closer look at some sign Eimhin must have left in his hurry to escape. He held his breath, willing the soldier to keep moving.
Still searching, the soldier began to move away and Eimhin heard Baladeva calling down. “Trail’s gone cold!” the soldier answered.
“No matter,” said Baledeva from the top of the gully. “We know where he is going and won’t be far behind. We are close enough now that I can sense this Sebastian myself.”
Eimhin waited as the soldier clambered up to join the Krenon, and then kept waiting until he was sure they were good and fully gone. When he could not stand it any longer, he crawled out from
his hiding place and began to run, the fire in his bones leading him straight to Sebastian and the others. He only hoped he would get there first.
#
With Cenric well, the trio made much better time. That first day they covered twice the ground they had on their best day during his illness and he just kept getting stronger. Sebastian judged they would reach the Ansetl-lea in just a few more days at their new pace.
For once he was relieved that his expectation lined up exactly with reality. Four days after Cenric recovered they came upon a secluded glade late in the afternoon. A gnarled tree rose high in the center of the glade, surrounded by a lawn of lush green grass.
Winding its way through the clearing, a bubbling brook provided a musical counterpart to the singing of a score of birds that flitted through the air. Sunlight rained down around them, filling the air with a warm kaleidoscope of color. Magic was in the air and Sebastian had never felt such peace.
“It’s beautiful!” exclaimed Cenric. Sebastian had to agree. “Can you FEEL the power? It’s like every stone, every bough, every blade of grass is ALIVE with energy. I wonder what it’s like during moon-rise. Elven magic is empowered by the moon, you know.”
“You know, I can feel it, and I’ll agree it is amazing,” said Krystelle, “but I’m more concerned about finding the gate. It should be here.”
Cenric twirled about. “The gate is here! We just can’t see it. It HAS to be here.”
“If we can’t see it, how do we find it?” Sebastian squirmed at the thought of all the elven magic surrounding them.
“Easy! We wait for the moon.”
“The moon?” Krystelle interjected before Sebastian blew up at the boy.
“Of course the moon. Moon-rise will show us the gate, or a way to find it. I’m sure of it!”
Now it was Krystelle’s turn to squirm. “You mean you’re guessing?”
“No…well, yes. Maybe a little bit. But it’s a GOOD guess.”
“That’s it?” said Sebastian, “we just wait until nightfall and hope you’ve guessed right? Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me.”
Krystelle wanted to agree with him. “Sebastian, I don’t see that we have any other option. Unless you have another plan, we wait. Perhaps another idea will present itself?”
Wandering away from the others, Sebastian found a good-sized boulder near the brook and settled down to wait. Pulling his sword from its sheath, he began to hone the edge. It was a practice that Adelwolf had drilled into him in those first days after leaving home. “Your blade can mean your life. Keep it sharp, keep it honed and dry,” the old man had said. The disciplines of caring for his weapons felt familiar to him, much like the daily chores required on the farm during his youth.
Across the clearing Cenric darted about, investigating pockets of energy only he could see. Sebastian wondered sometimes if the boy was addled. He had become even more peculiar since his illness of the previous days and Sebastian hoped all this elven magic wouldn’t push the boy over some unseen precipice in his mind.
Then there was Krystelle. Every time Sebastian thought he was gaining insight into the woman, something happened to dislodge him from that plateau of understanding. She was a warrior but not a huntress, facts she had demonstrated many times in their travels. At least seven times in ten he was the one to claim their prey in the hunt. Yet there she was, picking a bouquet of flowers and lacing them skillfully into her braid.
Sebastian focused his attention back on the sword. The sword he understood. It was a tool, just like the axe or the plow he had used on his uncle’s farm. It was solid and well-balanced, a tool for a warrior. A tool for a knight. He was determined to prove himself, without any more magic.
As he wiped the blade the gleam of the metal mocked him in its purity. He had killed with this sword. There should be some physical reminder that this sword had taken a life. Even if it was the life of someone as evil as Gerlach Pwyll. But it wasn’t the sword who had taken that life. It was him. Was that what he was now? A killer? His thoughts swirled as he continued working the sword, adding to the disquiet in his soul.
Sharpening his sword did not take long and so he scouted the surrounding area. Securing a pair of rabbits during his patrol, he returned to the glade and found Cenric wandering about and muttering incomprehensible things about lay lines and such. Krystelle had been out of sight when he returned, but came back into the glen a few minutes later looking clean and refreshed, her hair still damp. She camped out in a shady spot under one of the trees, pulling out her own blade to hone the edge. Sebastian busied himself preparing a cook-fire for their supper
“Cenric.” No reaction from the boy. “Cenric!” Sebastian repeated, “Come light this fire!” It did not occur to Sebastian how comfortable he had become with Cenric’s magic. The small act of starting a fire was a convenience for them that he had become accustomed to, needed only because they had lost their flints at the falls. Cenric glanced over, raising his hand for Sebastian to give him a moment. Sebastian had to throw himself back from the flames that erupted out of his small cookfire. Seated in the dirt, he growled at Cenric, “What was that?”
Wide-eyed, Cenric ran over to the fire. “That was amazing! Did you see that? I barely had to focus at all. There’s so much residual magic here. But I don’t understand how I’m using it. I shouldn’t be able to. Not like that anyway. Master Cormac would have been able to tell me, I’m sure.”
Krystelle joined the men, extending an arm to help Sebastian out of the dust. “Why not? What’s different about this magic?”
“It’s elven. That’s what’s different.”
Sebastian patted his breeches to dislodge the dust from his tumble, “Why should that matter?”
“You can’t just USE elven magic. It’s not like the normal magic that the wizards use. With normal magic you have to have all this mental focus and thought and special words. Master Cormac said that it was because normal magic lives outside of us. Elven magic comes from within, from their will. It’s just a natural part of life for Elves. That’s why all the Elves could use magic, but only some humans are able to.”
Sebastian shook his head, “Whatever it is, just be careful with it!” Turning back to the fire, he began preparing the rabbits. Within a few moments he had the rabbits cleaned and spitted above the crackling fire. His mouth watered at the aroma of the roasting meat.
“I hope you have enough there for four.” Almost as one, Sebastian and Krystelle rose, drawing their swords and moving to position themselves between Cenric and the figure stumbling into the glade. “Hold! Come no further,” said Sebastian.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
Krystelle recognized the voice this time, “Eimhin?”
“Ay, lass. ‘Tis me. Now, can you lend me a hand here?” The three of them rushed to his side as the diminutive man collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Krystelle reached the dwarf first and rolled him to his back. Pulling a handkerchief from her cloak, she wiped the grime from his face. “He’s in bad shape. Sebastian, some water. Quickly now.” He sprinted back to their saddlebags to fetch a bladder. “Cenric, how are your skills at Healing?”
“Master Cormac never let me practice Healing very much. He said it was too dangerous for a novice like me. He said that the wizards would show me Healing on the isles.”
“Then we must care for him with more traditional means. Sebastian…the water!”
“I did try to heal a bird with a broken wing once though.”
Krystelle tool the water bladder from Sebastian and, holding his head up, dribbled some between Eimhin’s parched lips. “A bird? That’s something at least. Did you succeed?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“How not exactly?”
“I fixed the bird’s wing, but he died the next day. I think I know what I did wrong though.”
Eimhin drifted back to consciousness and reached for the water bladder. “More,” he said.
“Slowly
now,” Krystelle continued to trickle water into Eimhin’s mouth. “Cenric, I think we had best not risk it. We’ve already seen how unstable your magic is within the Ansetl-lea.”
With the water, Eimhin made his way back to lucidity and Krystelle supported him as he moved to a sitting position. “Ah, lass…that’s good. I’m alright, just been running the better part of two hours. Now, help me up and let’s get me some of that rabbit you’ve got burning there.”
#
Settling around the fire Eimhin devoured a good portion from one of the two rabbits, leaving the remainder for Krystelle, Sebastian, and Cenric to share. “I thank you for not letting the boy test his arts on me. It was not apt to work here in the Ansetl-lea.” He shuddered and spat, “Elven magic all ‘round puts a bad taste in the mouth. Now, why do you sit here at the gate?”
Cenric piped up, “We’re waiting for the moon!”
“What he means is we believe the gate to Ha’vehl’on will reveal itself with the moonlight,” said Krystelle. “What happened to you? How did you come to be here?”
“Aye, that makes a bit o’ sense. As for what happened to me, that’s a tale. Main thing you need to know is the Krenon master, Baladeva, is on ‘is way here. He canna’ be more then half an hour behind me now. The rest can wait ‘till we make it through to the city.”
“Baladeva is coming here? How?” said Krystelle.
“He’ll have tracked me, that’s how.”
“Then why did you come? Fool! You’ve led him right to us!”
“Fool am I? He captured me at the Dazhberg and would like to have killed me had I not shown value. Leastways this way you’ve some warning, and I don’t die for refusing him. He’d have found you one way or ‘nother, with or without my help. You’ve a stain on you and that’s a fact!”
“Why you…” Sebastian exploded at the man and Krystelle managed to deflect his fist before he could strike him.
“That’s not helpful Sebastian. Now, what do you mean he has a ‘stain’?”
Eligium- The Complete Series Page 15
