Redd made a peep of disbelief. "There is a book-room here, and no one… told me?"
"I will take you, after, friend-Redd." Amathon tipped forward and acceded. His starlight eyes shut under red-black lashes. He glanced up, "But you must do all you can: breathe deeply, count-backwards, pray to Eru, anything to restrain yourself, Hoard Librarian, for you cannot remove the books from the actual physical enclosure called the Book-Room."
He laughed and opened his arms to Amathon. "Not a problem. You'll hold me back."
"Teams of oxen couldn't hold you back." Amathon dodged him. "Ai! Keep off, giant Ranger."
They wound up walking quite happily with the two Elites giving a short guided tour. Amathon acted as a counterpoint to Nimpeth's glowing revelations about the surroundings. At one point, Nimpeth brought them down a hall full of glass vessels of all kinds, suspended on long, thin tubes, and lit, inside, with wicks. This was the installation of a famed Sinda artist from the second Age, now in the West. There could have been over 1000 of them in a web of white ropes above. Some vessels came from Doriath, some from Rivendell, Lorien, the faraway Grey Havens, and some from settlements whose names had all but passed from memory, and the rest were from the Halls. Up above, in the dark of this section, Nimpeth explained, they came together to mimic one of the Great Arms of Elbereth as it reached across the Western sky. Amathon leaned in to tell the Rangers, "Terribly difficult to clean."
Up ahead, his wife actually laughed.
Ewon was in a bright room by the surface. It was full of elf men and women with the most intricately rendered wooden swords – they were inlaid with stone that glinted in the light, to increase their weight.
The Rangers went in by way of a walk along the wall of the cavern. It broadened to a living rock balcony that overlooked the huge room below. She thought it might be glassed in. But it was a cave, in its own right, that opened to air on the side of the Halls that faced unbroken green. Along the lip of the deck on which she stood, swirled ornate elvish.
"The writing is so beautiful…. What does it say?" Icar sighed aloud. He glanced at Redd, but it was Amathon who answered him.
"It says," his head bowed as if standing before the throne, "I am a weapon of the King."
"It is part of the Oath of Elites," Nimpeth said, and her voice was proud.
Icar crouched to study the words and Redd stood over one. "King. This one is King. I… I know it from the books."
"Well done, Redd," Amathon smiled softly.
Lusis watched the broad, padded floor below, Ewon extended the arm that had been good. He cocked it in air and flattened his hand, just as soon as that had happened, his once injured arm swung up the sword around it, in a block. He sped this move up to frightening speed and ended in a sudden crossing of swords with a red-haired Silvan man who stood before him.
The sparring was terrific and ended when Ewon's sword-hilt spun in his palm to turn the blade, most unexpectedly. He gritted his teeth. Muscles along his torso swelled. He fought the momentum to swing the sword up the arc it had been falling down. "Dol." He said.
The red-haired elf stepped back and bowed to Ewon.
Ewon bowed to him, rose, and said, "Next."
"Hey!" Lusis called from above him.
He looked up and his deadly demeanor changed to one of open delight. "Hello, friend-Lusis. You are three days dreaming. I am glad to see you."
She nodded at him, "Can anyone play?"
Below them, the room-full of elves smiled and invited the Northern Rangers down among them. Word of their worthiness had already passed through the legendary Elite guard.
They spent most of the day sparring with the Elites, learning what they could of elven swordsmanship, and showing some of their tricks, certain of which were pretty extreme. Lusis was the only human warrioress they'd ever had in their training room. Several Elites were eager to fight her, and then they set in exchanging sword skills with her. Somewhere in the mix, they exchanged wood for steel.
Icar sat and drew the practice sessions with elves grouping around to see his progress.
Clouds streamed over the sky, fast in the blue.
Icar and Steed demonstrated some of the best Ranger swordsmanship Lusis could remember of either of them, and this caused great stir among the Elves. Icar stumbled before Steed and Lusis rushed in to protect him, this was common behavior of Rangers. Like wolves took turns chasing goats and musk oxen, when one Ranger was spent, the other came. Behind her, and to her left, Redd took out his massive, cleaver-like sword and stood waiting.
Lusis stepped out just to give them a chance to see the huge man in action. Redd jogged up and swung his four and a half foot blade. The report when it struck elf-steel was terrific. The elf staggered to the left and a cry rose up at once in the room because this was an Elite and many had never seen him knocked to one side. For several minutes, it seemed there was nothing the elf could do but block and retreat from the sheer size and power of the massive Northern Ranger.
Suddenly, the Elite threw sword to sheath and had his fighting knives out in an eye blink. He dodged under Redd's next swing, stepped in, and Redd jolted back, just out of reach of reversed blades. But that had been pure feign. The elf stepped back with him and crossed the knives in scissor-like fashion, far below Redd's throat. He kept the blades low to prevent accident, but the message was clear. Redd stopped moving. The elf panted, "Dol."
All around her, a cry went up. "Ai!"
The darkness was drawing down, and it was chilly before they damped the fires and left the training room. Once they reached the bridges, the Elites shot away from path to path as if they had wings on their feet.
That left the Rangers to find their way back to the guestrooms. They did this through a combined effort. The Halls were expansive. Remee dropped down onto a bed in one of the doorless, fern-patterned guest halls. He covered his face with his hands and came out again, astonished, "Did that just happen? Did… did elves just spar with us?"
"It's true," Elsenord laughed aloud. He paced the central hall all but hugging himself. "Good gods, what would Kirstman make of this? How… how very little he knows and understands about these people."
Lusis set her swords on the bed and looked across the hall at the steaming brass tubs there. She walked over to an empty hall, stepped before the tall brass heater that protruded from the stone ceiling, and started peeling out of her clothes. Brass tubs were built into each spoke of hallway that hosted the guest rooms. They were gravity fed from above, and heated in tall brass kettles like the one that came from the ceiling. "What do you mean, Else?" she called across the hall.
"Many speeches were made before your return, Lusis, about the elves and their infidelity to Men of their own blood." He saw the other Rangers picking tubs to soak in. Steed was already curled up in one, blowing bubbles as he listened, and Elsenord got out of his coat. "But these elves are Northern. No, they aren't the blood we know, but they are good to Men. We can be good to them. Good friends."
"They will leave eventually," Lusis said from across the hall. "They will have no choice. Will you curse them for it then?"
Silence came on the heels of that, broken only by Icar sliding into a pool of hot water with a sigh. Swordplay of the type he'd demonstrated with Steed was hard on the muscles. They'd all had a workout today, and though none had bested the Elites, they were wiser for it.
Remee got up from where he'd collapsed on the bed and set his hands on his thighs. "What you're saying, Lusis, is that we still have time to do this right."
"This…" she looked around her and swallowed unbearable sadness before she could speak again, "This will probably be the last Age for elves in Middle-Earth, boys."
"We have time." Remee stood to say. "We have time to part from them… properly."
Properly? Lusis sank down below the water. She didn't know how one parted from them at all.
The Rangers slept because Lusis did.
They were, primarily, her men, so when they went across the hal
l and found her wrapped in a mix of towels and blankets, they let her rest, and took rest of their own.
She woke to warm dry clothes, having hung them on the steel cage around the great boiler. She dressed and found Aric taking money from her brothers at cards. "I might have warned you," she smiled at them. The Rangers got to their feet as she approached.
Redd opened his hands, "We should talk about their book-room." His eyes glimmered with excitement as he nodded at her.
"Gods, Redd, I just woke up." She rubbed her face. In her trance-like sleep she'd been soaring over Buckmaster Spur and watching men on horseback gather. "Let me get my bearings."
"There's a lot of noise in the outer halls." Elsenord said eagerly.
"I'm sure there is," she did a headcount and frowned. "Where's Steed?"
"Well, we sent him to, you know…" Remee opened his hands, "check it out."
Lusis set her hands on her hips and bent over her older brother, "And he listened to you?"
"Well… I'm a Buckmaster, so…."
She gathered her patience. "I hope Icar is asleep on one of the beds back there where I can't see him, and he's not running off and interfering in whatever festivities the elves are having."
"He… he was doing that," Remee used his best and most handsome grin at her – so persuasive. "But he woke up a little before you did… and he didn't want to play cards so…."
Redd nodded in agreement, "What he did want to do was draw."
"Redd," she stared at him. "You sent him up there? We should not interfere with the elves during times like these. They should be free to be… elven without having to worry about humans running around among them. This is less a problem for Steed."
"They probably won't notice him. He's just one little Ranger," Aric said, unhelpfully. "Not like we sent Redd up there."
At the sound of those words, Elsenord stepped back and looked up along the huge Ranger, "Someone might hang a flag off you, friend."
"Why thank you," Redd patted the top of Elsenord's head, genially.
The shadow through the hall was covered in heaps of red satin embroidered with gold thread around the chest and shoulders so that a great collection of leaves appeared to be falling from his red-golden hair. Eithahawn, in the clip of his station, that glowing half-circlet of silver leaves and gems. He glided up the steps to her and glanced over the Rangers with an incline of his head.
He stopped before Lusis and exhaled softly. He stood for a long moment, with his robes settling around him, magnificent with his long eyes cast at the floor on his right. Then he said, "Friend-Lusis, you must try to understand-"
"I don't." She told him unequivocally, "And Dorondir already tried that tactic. The one where he explains you made the right decision about his being chained to a wall under Elite guard, afraid he might be jettisoned from his home."
"His home is Rivendell, because he is a spy," said the tall elf. He didn't see the Rangers look from him to Lusis, some of them slack-jawed.
"He is your friend and guardian."
Eithahawn's eyes narrowed a little, "And if he is not capable of choosing my King before his Lord, it may be better for him to return to Rivendell and make ready to cross into the West. There is only so much tearing asunder a heart can take, Lusis."
"Yours or his?"
The tall elf stiffened. He smoothed himself at once, and said to her, "Yellow Istari, it is the King's wish that you join him as soon as is convenient. I trust you know the way to the upper Halls." He inclined his head to her and turned to leave, his great red clothes trailing the floor behind his long steps.
She blinked at him, "Eithahawn?"
He stood and did not look at her. His voice was calm, but chill. "You are not seneschal in these Halls, Lusis Buckmaster. There are those who would have banished him for leaving the King among Orcs. I make decisions for reasons that make sense to elves, and inside the context of the Kingdom, and for the safety of all involved. I don't expect you to understand." He paused, "You should join the Elvenking."
He drew down the hall and vanished.
Lusis exhaled and shook her head. "We're going to get the King."
Aric's eyes were large as he contemplated her words. "And then we should consider hiding for a while. I didn't think that elf could get angry."
"There are strange elves here," she turned to Redd, "old, old elves. Older than the oldest records, I think, Redd. And they're not from Middle Earth… they claim to be… Western. You'll know them when you see them."
"Are they bad news?"
"I don't know yet," she confessed to him, "but this Kingdom has come under pressure in the absence of the King. He came for me." She glanced at her brothers, "He divested himself of crowns and swords, and any sign of his Kingship and came to the North to get me. Things are changing here, and… the Elfking is beginning to move his pieces around the board."
"Is that what you are?" Elsenord asked darkly.
"Relax," she said around the thumbnail she tucked in her teeth as she thought. "That's what you are too. What we all are. In fact, that's how he sees himself. It may be the secret to his success. He's as much cold fire as hot. And he would die for these elves."
Aric dropped his cards and abandoned the little table they'd been playing at. He picked up his sheathed sword and pulled the belts on. "What do you think he's doing?"
She looked at him, and up the hall and then Lusis tore away at a run after Eithahawn. She would not have caught up with him if he hadn't been standing at the front of the Guest Halls, caught in an attitude of indecision.
"Eithahawn," she skidded on the polished floor and came to a stop beside him. "We should be friends, you and I. We shouldn't fight. I do enough of that with your father."
He turned his downcast head in her direction without looking at her. "In the past eight weeks, he has let it be known that he summons Legolas back to the Kingdom. He has moved Arasell Mundiel to Head of All Sections, and Merilin Ewonion to Warrior-seneschal, who is second only to me. He has made a special detachment within the Elite guard – the Aglareb – and he no longer wears the crowns outside of service to the Kingdom." He turned to look at her now. "Has he told you anything?"
"You don't know?" She asked.
Eithahawn's teeth flashed as he paced. "He's in and out – away finding you – off with the Council of the West doing business, and no one ever knows the full extent of what he's doing! If we did there might be some threat that we might undo it."
"What does it look like?" she asked him. She could hear her troop rolling up behind her. "What does it look like to you?"
"Like he's getting ready to go with them."
Lusis agreed with this assessment. "Which means there's a very good chance he's doing nothing of the sort. We need to relax and not get paranoid." She pointed at him, a very human gesture. "And not chain our friends and allies to walls."
"I couldn't let Elrond's spy undermine my father's authority in this Kingdom in front of the Council of the West, no matter that we have been friends for years." Eithahawn paced tightly, his long arms wrapped across his chest. "The value of my King is too great for that."
"And he told you that he left at the King's order."
Eithahawn turned slowly and looked at her.
Lusis brows went up. "No?"
"Yes... in fact. Dorondir would have proposed that the King take the Lord. And your Rangers arrived with horses of Rivendell. Along with the King, they carried you here."
Lusis' tanned lids fluttered. Carried. She was a grown woman and a Ranger. It was mortifying. But there went Eithahawn, in his very inhuman way, utterly ignorant of this, and immune to her distress. She couldn't tell if he – like many Men would – expected a woman to be feeble, or if he simply assumed that everyone, at one time or other, succumbed. With so many women scouts, guards, and elites among the elves, the latter was likely. And, not being feeble, she feared the former.
The grand, golden elf remained unaware of her unspoken question.
"If he'd
carried the Lord … he would have been accompanied by way of that choice."
Redd shook his head, "He… he wasn't doing as well as you think, lad. Still, with the horses we had… yes it could easily have been done that way. It is strange he didn't come to that conclusion."
Eithahawn's long, orange-blond hair slid over his shoulder as he looked at the night sky overhead, the guest rooms being close to the surface and capped in several places with thick glass. The windswept moon painted a long splash of blue onto the tiles, just as it probably had for nearly all generations of Men. The light made the Kingdom's-seneschal's aqua-blue eyes seemed cyan. Their dark pupils shrank from round to slightly oblong in the moonlight, and silence was observed before Eithahawn decided, "He didn't want to be here."
He turned and headed down the hall, the peridot in his clip glittering against hair his hands reached up and stroked into three thick strands right behind his ear. He absently drew a loose braid of them, paused, and threw the glance that invited her to follow from over his shoulder.
"That's all of us, troop," Lusis exhaled through her teeth. "The King's been stalling for time. You can bet that's not because he doesn't like the company."
"And just when we were getting flattered by the fact he came to get you in person," Remee chuckled. "I could scarcely believe he was a King. Even after we arrived."
"Yes, in fact. He did go to retrieve friend-Lusis in person. Do not mistake his purpose…. Purposes. Aside from which, you have clearly never seen my King's impatience," The Kingdom's-seneschal sighed softly on the end of that, "or you would never have mistaken him for a normal elf."
They followed through the pattern of staggered blue lights – the moon-glow through glass inclusions in the cavern above – as it fell on the living-stone floors.
He led them out of the shallow area of the guest halls, and deeper into the rising stone, and as they went the halls became more crowded with elves on their way to the resounding space known as the Grand Gallery.
Wild Monster Page 16
