by Jake Yaniak
With these words Olver Galvahirne departed from Lord Akellnarva and gathered his men in Dusktown. There were some free men of Dadron that insisted upon marching along with him, but for the most part they were men of Noras, the chief of whom were once the guardians of Peiraso, before Ponteris betrayed Cheft Biron. With two-hundred and fifty men, all mounted on strong warhorses, Olver Galvahirne marched out of the city onto the burnt fields of Agalan. Trumpets roared from above and they marched out into the dead city to battle the army of Amlaman and the soldiers of Marin.
For a time, it almost seemed as though Olver had in fact been given the strength of a god. His little force of men soon emptied the wasted cities of foes, riding down the pillaging soldiers of Volthamir and slaying whole companies of their enemies. They came upon a group of some forty warriors of Ramlos, all strong men of Nolhern and veterans of the goblin wars. These they cut down as if they were trimming a hedge. The streets filled with blood and not a single of their men had fallen. It was not until they encountered the main hosts of Amlaman and Marin that they were truly challenged. Ten of them fell to arrows and five to the innumerable spears of the eastern hirelings. But Olver and his captains cut through their lines with ease while the others, following close behind them, guarded them from all attacks. Volthamir himself came to the fore of the battle to help put an end to this wild incursion. Upon his mighty horse, Ghoras, he challenged Olver. The two clashed like two mighty waves. Volthamir, however, proved much the stronger, and Olver was knocked from his horse. Ere he could make an end of Biron's nephew, however, the men of Noras rode up in force and drove Volthamir back, with many curses. Olver mounted once more and rode with his men back toward the gate of Dadron. They hoped to find some place within the ruined city to rest and regain their breath for another assault.
So much harm had been done by this little force that the men of Amlaman were content to let them leave the field unpursued. They made their way through the scorched streets along the southern wall toward the southwest corner of the citadel. With the wall to their backs and with the burning city before them, they made a camp, set a watch, and dressed their wounds.
Early in the morning, while the cool of night and the blanket of darkness yet hung over the armies of Marin, Olver and his men appeared amidst the army of Ollitov, which was positioned along the western wall of the city. So fierce was their onset, and so sudden, that the soldiers of Marin were driven with shrieks from the wall of the fortress. Three of Olver's men fell in that assault, but thirty Olgrost hirelings and seventeen Marin soldiers were slain.
All through that day Olver's men wreaked havoc on the battlefield, until the warriors could scarcely lift their swords to swing. When one force fled, Olver turned his company about and sought after another, until at last the sun fell behind distant Mount Coronan, leaving them once more in the lonely dark of the dead outer lands.
The third day of his rash attack began much the same. He came within a stone's throw of Lord Ollitov himself, but was driven away by Lady Nerria, who arrived just in time to save the Queen's husband alive. Three hundred soldiers marched with her, all carrying spears and swords. Back into the city they fled, with the armies of Marin glad of their departure. But late in the day it came to pass that at last the monster Natham came to hear of Lord Olver's bold deeds. 'It is surprising,' he said to those who marched under his command, 'that he would sacrifice all of Daevaron to the army of Marin, only to so boldly make war against them in the ruins of Dadron.' He said this, of course, still under the belief that Olver was the Lord of Dadron and had stolen Lyris from Marin.
Under Natham's command had been placed some two-hundred soldiers and seventy warriors of Olgrost. Many of these were in fact veterans of his war against the dwarves, and they were loyal to him, even as they had been to the Marshall Lyris. As the sun faded, they rushed along the outskirts of the ruined city, following the contour of the western wall until they came upon the men of Olver as they set up their encampment.
Without warning they fell upon Olver and his men. In the chaos of the assault, and by the fury of Natham, nearly a hundred of Olver's men were slain. Every spear glanced aside and every sword broke upon Admunth, that moving wall that Natham bore upon his shoulder. His great spear, which had destroyed so many Iron-Golems in Olgrost, now pierced horses and men as though they were old cloth. 'Flee!' his men began to shout, 'Flee to the gates! Hell has come up to swallow us alive!'
At last Natham came to stand in the center of their encampment and there he found Olver Galvahirne, against whom he had ignorantly fought all these dreadful battles. 'Olver,' he said with hatred in his voice, 'I have come for you. Many you have held before you, like so many wooden shields. But now there are no more brave youths to sacrifice to save your own life. I have come for your blood.'
'On what ground, beast,' Olver demanded, 'do you lay claim upon my blood?'
'You have stolen that which is most precious to me, and dishonored the one of whom kings and queens are unworthy. Too late now is the hour of council. Many messages have I sent unto you, and many messengers have you turned away.'
Olver shook his head in disbelief, saying only, 'What madness!'
Natham approached him with surprising speed. Olver was able to leap from his horse as it fell under the might of Natham's spear. He hit the ground hard and rose to his feet. The beast towered over him, and under the hood on Natham's left shoulder he saw the firelight gleaming in Judan's eyes. He rose to his feet and drew his sword, facing a foe the sight of which few could hope to withstand. Several blows he dodged, and he made several good strokes against Natham's shield. But it was to no avail. The wrath of Judan was too great, and when the spear of Natham missed its target, and the shield Admunth blocked Olver's stroke, the dread blade Skatos-Ereg emerged from its hiding place and pierced the heart of Olver. The evil blade seemed to steal away the darkness of the night itself; the place where Olver fell was enveloped in darkness and his men were forced to abandon his body as they fled into the south and east, hoping they might somehow gain entrance into the sealed city of Dadron.
Thus Olver Galvahirne was given over to the keeping of Lord Death, and Lord Pelas rejoiced at his passing, saying, 'I am truly lord of all Weldera; for even Death obeys my voice.'
Now Olver's body fell during the night and no man knew where it lay. But in the morning, Captain Kardian rode out with a great host of horsemen to see what remained of his company. The gates were opened and he followed along the wall to the place where Olver's camp had been set up. There he found Natham and his small force waiting. In a feat of great daring he set every man against Natham, so that the monster was forced to hide himself beneath Admunth. While he was thus kept busy, Captain Kardian rushed forward and took the body of Olver into his arms. He lay it carefully upon his horse and rode away from the camp. At his signal, his soldiers relented from their attack and followed him like a gale back to the gates of Dadron.
There his body was received with mourning and with honor. Laments were sung and the people praised him as a hero, but the whole spirit of the city was darkened. 'It has happened, even as he has said,' some of the warriors said with fear and trembling. 'Nay,' others replied, 'he made it happen so through his impatience.' When the body of Olver was at last laid to rest, Lord Akellnarva declared that no longer would any be permitted to leave the city walls.
To compound the sorrow of the matter, it was on the very morning that Captain Kardian had ridden out to retrieve Olver's body that Daryas and Revere found their way into the city of Dadron.
Chapter X:
The Breaking of the Siege
The River Path
In the Golden days of Falruvis, the waters of the great Falsi River were, by the wisdom and skill of the elves, tamed and channelled into the city according to the needs of its citizens, rather than the dictates of the terrain. Though much had deteriorated in the ages that followed, there was yet a path into the city through the water, for those who knew where to look.
Following
the instructions of Rahdmus they came, on the twenty seventh day of Solest, to a small cave hidden among the reeds on the river bank. Were it not for his careful instructions, it would have been impossible for them to discover it. The entrance was large, however, and they had little trouble getting their horses into the tunnels. Revere's horse almost refused, for the road was very dark and wet. Novai seemed content enough, however, and walked peacefully even in the blackness. Both horses were in better spirits once Revere lit a torch. Thus began their long journey in the dark.
For several days they journeyed, always being careful to keep their torches lit and dry. As they went on the road fell down, following the course of the river. To their right they could hear the rushing water, and in some places they could feel the cool spray of the water as portions of the Falsi were channelled through those tunnels in large stone canals. Great care they took, lest they lose their footing and fall into the river. This very nearly happened on several occasions. Twice Daryas was saved by grasping the bridle of Novai at the last moment. Revere almost complained of his carelessness, but even as he opened his mouth to speak, his own feet forsook him and he pulled himself up by his horse's ankle.
Uncertain of their surroundings, the two went along silently, saying only things like, 'We ought to turn to the right here,' or 'watch your step there.' But as they went Daryas began to feel uneasy. In the daylight his shadow now troubled him greatly, bringing to his mind the fell words he had heard when he had gone into the darkness to retrieve the Sword of Pelas. But now the darkness troubled him more, seeming to fill the whole world with the blackness of his own heart. It wasn't long before he heard footsteps and a heavy breathing behind him. Then, the shadow spoke to him.
'To what do you now march?' the voice asked, with a tone of feigned curiosity.
'I march to Dadron, and to war,' Daryas replied with a whisper, lest Revere should hear him.
'Why do you speak so softly, son of Biron?'
'I have always spoken softly,' he answered.
'Indeed, I know it well. You have always spoken softly lest I should be discovered and some other would come to know me even as you have.'
'I do not know you,' Daryas protested.
'Yet you are very familiar with me nonetheless.'
'You speak nonsense!' Daryas said with frustration.
'What else ought I to speak? I make no claim to wisdom. But I dare say I do make a claim to honesty; something you know nothing about. For were you an honest man, you would be hated by all. Men know you, but they do not know me; therefore they know not Daryas. Only his shell have they apprehended - the depth of his heart they have not seen.' Daryas continued to walk in silence, hoping this devil would grow weary and depart. 'You say you go to war,' Lutrosis said. Daryas said nothing.
Suddenly Daryas felt a strong hand upon his hair. His head was yanked back and he fell into the darkness. There he saw again the glowing green eyes of his enemy. 'You will not ignore me, son of Biron,' he said. I have walked your paths for many years, and hidden when I was told. You owe me an answer, and an answer I will extract from you. To what end do we go to war?'
'We go to save my people from death - if it is at all possible.'
'You would die for them?' Lutrosis asked with surprise.
'I will kill for them at least,' Daryas said. Soberly he added, 'yet to die for my people I would not be ashamed.'
'Why should you kill for the sake of your countrymen? Are not your enemies men also? Why choose the one over the other?'
'Yet our enemies are usurpers, invaders, and oppressors.'
Lutrosis laughed, 'As are all men from time to time. What nation is established without bloodshed? What people come to prominence without injustice? You love these people because they are your countrymen. Fight for them on that account. But do not pretend it is more than that. You know as well as I that the soldiers of Marin and the warriors of Amlaman are as innocent as the Daevaron they have destroyed. Soldiers are noble for obedience, and they are not permitted to have private judgment on where they turn their swords. You err, then, when you call such men your enemies.'
'Yet shall I let them trample my kin into the dust?'
'Indeed not,' Lutrosis said, 'You will fight and kill many Amlamani men and Marin girls. But you will not do it for holiness, you will do it for yourself and those to whom your heart is given. In fact, you will fight for my sake.'
In silence they continued for another few minutes. But at last the voice of Lutrosis spoke again, saying, 'Do you recall a time when your brother came upon an army of ants?'
Daryas felt sick for a moment, 'How can you know of such a thing? That was many years ago, when we were still very small.'
'Yet I know of it,' Lutrosis laughed, 'There are a great many things I know of, son of Biron, and this will be the least of your surprises.'
'I remember it,' Daryas said.
'There were many thousands of ants, all of them black, all of them of the same size. To look upon them at a distance you would see only what seemed to be a patch of dirt or a pile of mud. But when you drew nearer to them you saw that it was a great host of ants in a great flurry of activity. To young eyes it could be discerned that each ant was face to face with another, biting and pinching at the other. Many ants, in fact, lay dead upon the ground already. Many hours this lasted, until at last the ants grew weary, or until one of the hosts was victorious - who can tell? Then they departed, leaving the dead to be consumed by birds and rats. Tell me Daryas, son of Biron, were their goals less lofty than yours? For what did they slaughter one another? Was it for a dirt patch, like that upon which Dadron is built? Or some piece of rotted fruit, worth more to the ants than all the wealth of men? Did they even know what it was for which they died and killed? Do the women of Marin understand what they fight for? Do the men of Amlaman know who it is that they march to kill? Are the Noras so good? Are their enemies so wicked? What do you know of war, that you march to it?'
'What would you have me do?' Daryas said with great frustration. 'I go to save those for whom I care. I go for the sake of my father in prison and my brother who yet lives in exile. I go to save my cousin. Would you have me forsake them?'
'No, I would not,' Lutrosis answered. 'I would have you be honest, and know that the blood you spill is as clean and red as your own. Spill it nonetheless! We are all but ants, and now and again we must, for the sake of our will, do battle against those who cross our paths.'
'What is the purpose of all this talk,' Daryas asked.
'I wanted to be sure,' he answered, 'that you were fighting for the right reasons.'
'What are the right reasons?'
'When you draw your blade in battle, when you spill the innocent blood of your foes, you will be fighting for my sake.'
'Who are you that I should fight for your sake?'
'You still do not understand. You exist for my sake! Will you then fight for the sake of another?'
'You speak still more nonsense.'
'Of course I do,' the voice said, 'Making sense of things will always be your problem, and I dare say you will ever have a remainder in your calculations so long as you do not comprehend this. Who says that I must conform myself to your reasons? Why should not your reasons conform themselves to my will?'
'Why should I serve you?'
'You say it as if you have a choice! Daryas, you have always served me, though you have denied me and hidden me in dark places, lest other eyes see me in my ugliness. You will fight for me, and I will, in turn, fight for you in a manner of speaking. You have a desire, even as do I. I swear to you now by every good thing under heaven, that if you will put your sword into my hand and let me fight in your stead, I will bring you at last to the woman you love, and you will appear before her without a shadow - even as she has required.'
'How do you know such things?' Daryas said with great emotion and surprise.
'I have been with you for many long years, Daryas, and for many long years I shall remain with you. I have your b
est interest at heart, dear brother, though you have long tried to hide it from yourself.'
'How can you help me?' Daryas asked. 'How will such a creature of darkness help me escape from darkness?'
'You forget, Daryas, that it was to this very end that you have sought me out. Did not Rahdmus tell you that by means of the Sword of Pelas you would be saved from darkness? Why then are you so unwilling to speak with me? Why are you so short tempered with me? Am I not here to save you?'
'Of that I am entirely unconvinced,' Daryas laughed. 'You contradict all that I have been taught, whether by my old teachers in Noras or by the strangers from south. But tell me, haunter of dark corners, what interest have you in fighting on my behalf?'
'Fighting itself, of course,' he answered. 'Do you not know that there is thrill in battle? Do you not know that there is honor in victory? Do you not know that there is reward in war?'
'Thrill in battle? You talk as though warfare was a good thing.'
'To me it is,' he said. 'You have need of battle, and I have desire of it.'
'You will not fight on my behalf,' Daryas said sternly. 'I have been charged with a task, and I will not permit you to meddle with it. For it has been given to me by heaven itself.'
At that moment Lutrosis fell upon him and threw him to the ground with great force. He struck him in the face several times and wrested the Sword of Pelas from his hands. 'Fool,' he said, 'if you will not willingly surrender to me, then I will simply take what I want. Why fight me, then?'
'Because you are a devil,' Daryas said, trying to regain his breath.
'So you say,' Lutrosis said, 'By your own estimate I am a devil. What else shall I do then, but act devilishly? But I will fight for you in Dadron, son of Biron, and I will have honor and glory in plenty. Also, I will keep my word. I will do all that I please; consulting with you is a mere matter of courtesy.'
'At least,' Daryas laughed, 'you are a courteous devil, then!'
