Elfhunter

by C S Marks

  Although both the Lake-realm and the Deep-caverns had been founded long before, the Elves had few dealings with the folk of Grundin. Likewise the dwarves of Cós-domhain had largely kept out of Elvish affairs for thousands of years and wished it to remain so. Only when their lands were directly threatened would the dwarves join the Elves in battle, and at those times they were counted as fierce allies. Yet their participation and their losses were minor compared with those of Elves and men.

  In order to truly understand the enmity between the dwarves and most especially the Elves of the Eádram, one needed to know of the War of Betrayal, in which the dwarves of Rûmm laid siege to and finally overcame the Elven-realm of Eádros. Because the Elves of Tal-sithian were, for the most part, of the Eádram, dwarves were not welcome there, with few exceptions. Fima, who was known to both Lady Arialde and to Lord Airan, and stood high in the favor of Lady Ordath, would be admitted without question.

  Galador, Nelwyn, and Thorndil crept silently toward the group of dwarves, but did not see Rogond or Gaelen among them. They quickly spotted Fima, who was sitting near the firelight, apparently lost in thought. Fima raised his head for a moment and gazed off in the direction of the flowing stream and a small copse of trees; Nelwyn guessed that she would find her friends there. She and Galador approached the little grove to observe Gaelen lying on her back with Rogond half-reclining beside her.

  Though they were saddened at the apparent loss of Belegund, Galador and Nelwyn both sighed with relief at the sight of Rogond apparently ministering aid to Gaelen, who must have been the one in need of healing. Nelwyn gave a call that Gaelen would know at once; they had used it in the Greatwood forever and it was distinctive.

  Rogond looked up and turned his gaze toward them, but Gaelen did not move. Nelwyn panicked then and rose to her feet, calling Gaelen’s name, as Rogond held up a hand in greeting. Gaelen had not responded as she had been in a half-stupor caused by Rogond’s

  attentions to her right ear. She had nearly fallen asleep, as the waters had taken her pain away such that she could finally relax. She could speak, but not yet well; her voice sounded hoarse and rasping, and she preferred to whisper. The moment she laid eyes on Nelwyn, the tears started in them.

  Nelwyn embraced Rogond with relief, as did Thorndil and finally Galador, though his embrace was somewhat stiff, as though he was unaccustomed to such intimacy. When Galador pulled back, his face was grave.

  "I am truly sorry about Belegund. I hope he died well, and trust that he now walks in the Light of Aontar," he said. Thorndil nodded in agreement.

  Rogond’s eyes were wide. "How came you to know of Belegund?" He asked in wonder.

  "Arialde had seen only one man emerging from the under the mountain. We did not know which of you still lay beneath it," said Galador.

  "I would know the details of Belegund’s fate, for he was a great friend and comrade," said Thorndil. "I trust his remains were properly tended?"

  Rogond nodded. By the decree of Grundin, Belegund was laid to rest with great honor, and his remains would be forever undisturbed. This death had been hard for Rogond, and his eyes were downcast. He recalled the calm, young face of Belegund as the dwarves placed the stone over him. He looked as though he had fallen asleep, his cares gone and his soul at peace. Gaelen had wept bitterly, though it pained her, and she had turned from Rogond when he tried to comfort her. He had understood her reaction, as he knew she blamed herself for not being able to save Belegund, and thus would not allow herself to be comforted.

  Now she sat up, determined to face Thorndil and tell what she could of Belegund’s ending. "He fell in single combat with Gorgon. Though his pain was great, he died well, but I fear needlessly. I failed to aid him when the time came...though I tried. I must now add Belegund to those I mean to avenge. He had no chance against Gorgon, yet held him off for several minutes…" She began to weep at the memory, and this time she allowed Rogond to comfort her. He took her in his arms and spoke quietly to his friends.

  "This is a tale that must wait until she is stronger. Gorgon nearly killed her—he thought he had done so. When we are rested and recovered we will tell of our journey. For now, let us hear of your adventures! Perhaps Fima would like to join us, and I’m sure the dwarves would enjoy the telling as well."

  They rose and made their way to the firelight, where introductions were made. The sentinel Elves, who had waited nearby at Galador’s request, were invited to join the circle as the telling of the mountain crossing began. Rogond shook his head in exasperated sympathy as Galador described the mischievous and somewhat reckless behavior of his favorite mount.

  "Eros, Eros. You impossible animal. Wait until I get my hands on him! I’ll threaten him with sale to the Elves of Greatwood."

  Galador drew back in mock dismay. "Ha! As if they would have him. I’ll wager the King is not having kind thoughts of him right now. Thorndil tells me that there was some difficulty between Ri-Aruin and his son, Wellyn, over the reappearance of Eros. I didn’t really understand it, but perhaps he’ll be kind enough to explain."

  Gaelen was puzzled. "Why would Wellyn care about Eros?"

  Thorndil shrugged. "I don’t know, Gaelen. But I do know that he very much wished to cross the mountains into Mountain-home with us. He seemed quite set on it, and his father would not allow it under any circumstances. When we left, they were both decidedly unhappy."

  Gaelen wished, for a moment, that she could make her way home to set things right. She worried about Wellyn and missed him. But she could not turn from the task at hand—she would enlist the aid of Arialde and Airan in the pursuit and defeat of Gorgon. She hoped that she would be able to adequately describe his vile ferocity—the more avenging feet she could set upon his trail, the better. After that, she didn’t know where the task would lead her.

  Gorgon Elfhunter sat brooding in his temporary lair in a small cavern under the foothills of the western Monadh-hin. He was generally pleased with the outcome of his foray into Cós-domhain, for it would be a long while before Gaelen or Rogond would step again into the realm of Grundin. This had been Gorgon’s aim, as Gaelen was fairly well protected in the dwarf-realm, and he would learn little of use from her so long as she was there. His purpose would be much better served once she got into Tal-sithian, or such was his belief.

  He had used the mirror twice since leaving the bodies for the dwarves to find and had witnessed the meeting with Grundin, rejoicing as Gaelen declared her desire to leave immediately to spare the dwarves further harm. She was so disgustingly noble and therefore predictable. Gorgon considered it a major weakness, one to which he certainly would not fall prey.

  There was a current of cool air drifting through the passageway that led into his cavern, and he removed his helmet, allowing it to lift the silken gold of his hair. It was really quite curious. Not in recent memory had he enjoyed such simple pleasures as the wind in his hair; always he had been content to lurk in the darkness, alone with his hatred, neither feeling nor considering any discomfort. Could his exposure to Gaelen’s world have anything to do with his renewed interest in such things? If so, he must guard himself carefully. The desire to live in harmony with the world and seek the company of others was definitely counter to his purposes—a weakness of the highest order. He concentrated for a moment on the image of the Shadowmancer hovering in the flames. He drew strength and resolve from the presence of Wrothgar and at the same time felt a gnawing fear deep within, for he knew that much was expected of him.

  Gorgon had known Wrothgar very well indeed upon a time, and had learned not to disappoint him. The Shadowmancer had played a large role in educating Gorgon and had molded much of his thinking, though in the end he could neither rule Gorgon’s thoughts nor dominate his actions.

  As though to prove to himself the mastery of the mirror, Gorgon opened the cover and gazed into it. He saw a fire burning by a flowing stream, and the dwarves camped for the night. Tomorrow the Company would enter Tal-sithian, and Gorgon would eagerly await
the insights that would follow. He had never beheld the Lake-realm, nor the Lord and Lady, but perhaps he would now learn the secret way in past the well-guarded shores. If not, he could certainly lie in wait for any that he knew were venturing forth outside them. He realized for a moment that he was trembling at the prospect, and then renewed his concentration by focusing on the face of the tall Elf whose name, apparently, was Galador. Gaelen was speaking to him in the firelight, where she was attempting to warm herself. Gorgon noticed that she was shivering as she looked into Galador’s eyes.

  "My brother, I will never doubt you again. Had Nelwyn gone beneath the Mountains with us, I know she would have been lost."

  Gorgon smiled at this. Too right, she would have.

  The She-elf apparently took notice of the pain in Galador’s face, and knew that she had spoken true. "We must now reassure Rogond, for he learned little in Cós-domhain, and now feels the weight of Belegund’s death," she said. "Though we did not know the Dark Horror had somehow tracked us beneath the mountains, it was our choice to go there despite your warning. Rogond thus feels responsible."

  Gorgon actually chuckled then. "Dark Horror" indeed! Gorgon was flattered. The Tuathan needn’t have regretted his choice—Cós- domhain had little to do with Belegund’s death. Gorgon would have found the Company and set upon at least one of them by now regardless of their path. He might not have chosen Belegund, for he was more interested in the other She-elf and possibly the tall Elf, neither of whom had been within his grasp as yet. He meant to remedy that problem in the near future.

  He shuddered and snapped the mirror-cover closed as Gaelen embraced Galador, who whispered soft words of comfort and reassurance. Gorgon truly wished these emotional Elves would cease their nearly endless displays of sentiment, as he was uncomfortable with them. Gorgon had never experienced a simple embrace and had heard precious few kindly words in his lifetime. The one person who had cared for him long ago he had slain at the bidding of Wrothgar, and it was just as well. Sentiment was a weakness that he could ill afford, and now there was little chance of his ever allowing himself to experience it.

  Rogond had never before seen the wonders of Tal-sithian, and when he first beheld it he could not speak for several minutes. Though he had seen some of the most beautiful places in Alterra, including Mountain-home, he had spent much of his recent life in the wild, and the beauty of that fair green isle surrounded by crystal-blue water took his breath away. Gaelen had been here before, but not when the wood was flowering; she was likewise awed by the majestic elegance of the trees and the intoxicating scent of the blossoms. With each step she took she felt her spirits rising. Though she could not remain long in this place, Gaelen hoped that the Company would be renewed by the time they moved on toward the Greatwood.

  A sudden chill came over Gaelen, and she shivered a little. This was becoming a common occurrence, and she wondered what the cause could be. She knew that contact with Gorgon often chilled her thus, but he was far away, and she had not had a scent of him since cleansing herself in the waters by the lake.

  Nelwyn had stayed by her side, as though she could sense that all was not well with her cousin. She had wept at the sight of the dark marks on Gaelen’s neck, imagining the look of smug satisfaction on Gorgon’s ugly face as he choked the life from her. It was nothing short of miraculous that he had not succeeded. Now she met Gaelen at the base of the Greenwood Hill, for they had been summoned. They ascended to the chambers of Arialde and Airan, their faces set and determined. It would now be up to Gaelen to communicate the horrible events she had witnessed in Cós-domhain and to try to enlist the aid of the Elves of the Lake-realm.

  When they stood at last before the Lord and Lady, Gaelen stepped forward and started to speak, but Arialde held up her hand to silence her. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, searching Gaelen’s bright, unflinching gaze. The smaller Elf lifted her chin in defiance, but her expression softened as Arialde’s voice was heard inside her mind:

  Proud Elf of the Greatwood, soften thy grieving heart. I know why you have come to us, and I know of your pain and sorrow. You lie under a dark doom, Gaelen Taldin of the Cúinar, whose heart was given to One Who Waits. Though I cannot see the nature of it, I know that greater sorrow and hardship will befall you before all is ended. Now we must parley, and much will be revealed both to you and to us. Soften thy heart!

  Gaelen nodded, though she did not drop her gaze. "There is one other who needs to hear your tale," said Arialde, indicating a tall Elf who stood by, hidden in shadow. He approached and stood behind the Lady. Gaelen thought he looked vaguely familiar. He was golden- haired, with keen blue eyes and a handsome but weary face that had seen much sorrow and trial. Lord Airan introduced him as "Amandir", and he bowed slightly to Gaelen, who returned the polite gesture before beginning her tale. Their discourse lasted into the evening, as Arialde, Airan, and Amandir had many questions.

  "Why do you think Gorgon failed to achieve your death in Cós- domhain, Gaelen?" asked Arialde. This apparently troubled her, as she could not imagine the creature failing in such an important task.

  Gaelen shook her head. "I don’t know. I suppose I shall never know, but I do know this: he will regret his lack of thoroughness before all is ended. I mean to bring him down with the help of the Elves of Mountain-home and of the Greatwood. I am hopeful of your aid as well."

  The Lady drew a deep breath, and Amandir dropped his gaze, refusing to look at Gaelen for several minutes. It seemed that he struggled with some deep pain that he could not reveal, and Gaelen was diverted for a long moment as she regarded him curiously.

  "Look at me, Elf of the Greatwood!" Lord Airan’s voice brought her back sharply to the matter at hand. "This creature is more closely tied to the Elves of Tal-sithian than to any others. Listen, now, to our tale of woe."

  When Airan had finished, Gaelen and Nelwyn both stood in horror at what he had revealed. Nelwyn was the first to speak. "You cannot mean that creature is…of Elven blood?"

  Arialde nodded. "Alas, he is Half-elven, the ill-gotten son of my handmaiden, the spouse of Amandir. Her name was Brinneal, and she was both beautiful and strong, a proud maiden of the Èolar. She was a survivor of the Second Uprising and chose to come here to the Lake rather than remain with the others in Mountain-home. Alas that she chose such! Her death was both tragic and welcomed, but the spawn of Darkness persists. I cannot imagine the evil nurturing and shaping he has received. We had hoped that the child had died, or been lost, but now we know that it was not so. Your story has confirmed it. We have wondered on occasion, but now we know it to be true, to our sorrow. This is ill news you bring, daughter of the Greatwood."

  Indeed, Amandir looked as though his heart had been torn apart as he stood with an expression of blank horror and grief upon his fair but careworn face. His sorrow was unimaginable even to Gaelen, who had known deep sorrow in her lifetime. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to comfort him, but knew that there were no words or feelings she could express that would be of any benefit. She simply could not take her gaze from his downcast eyes, so full of pain. Before Arialde or Lord Airan could stop her, she approached him, reaching out with a gentle hand, placing it upon his arm. He drew back from her as though stung, cold fury burning in his eyes.

  "What would you know of it, Elf ? How dare you try to comfort me, when you cannot even imagine my pain. Keep your distance!" He turned to the Lord and Lady, saying, "I will not suffer myself to be in her presence, and I beg your leave to go. I must inform my son and my daughter that their half-brother has been found alive at last. I’m sure they await this joyful news even now. So, if you will pardon me, I will take my leave."

  Without a word from either Arialde or Airan, Amandir turned and strode from their company, nodding to Nelwyn as he passed. He would not look at Gaelen, who stood shocked and hurt by his words. Whatever did he mean? What evil? She did not understand. When he had gone, Arialde sighed and shook her head, her deep blue eyes filled with gri
ef. Gaelen looked to her, hoping for an explanation, but none came.

  "I cannot explain Amandir’s actions, worthy daughter of Tarfion. I only know that what he has felt, I have felt also. Guard yourself well, and perhaps things will be made plain in time. For now, you must forget Amandir’s harsh words. He is not himself, and his pain has made him discourteous. Please do not let this trouble you, but rest and heal yourself, for you are welcome in the Lake-realm."

  Gaelen stared at her. "Forget his words? He practically accused me of being in league with Gorgon! No one desires that creature’s death more than I!"

  But to this Arialde did not agree. "Were you in the place of Amandir, you would desire it even more, Gaelen. You know what it is to love someone deeply to the exclusion of all others. Imagine the pain he has endured because of this abomination, and you will forgive him his harsh words."

  Gaelen was mollified for the moment, and she and Nelwyn bowed and turned to leave, but Arialde stayed them. "Amandir has insisted that when you leave to pursue the creature Gorgon that he be allowed to accompany you. I have granted this to him."

  Gaelen bristled. "But I have not granted it, nor have any of my companions. You do not rule my actions outside of this realm, Lady, and right now I am not inclined to be thus burdened with one such as Amandir. This gift was not yours to grant." She drew herself up before Arialde, who, to her surprise, smiled at her.

  "Fair enough, Elf of the Woodland. But I would beg you to reconsider. Amandir has a part to play in this, and you cannot deny him his chance for vengeance. Search your heart and tell me that you do not agree."