The Longsword Chronicles: Book 06 - Elayeen

by GJ Kelly

  “Aye, seen them too. Big sailing barges mostly, carrying all the aforementioned items east and west. Smaller boats there are too, with sails, that go out on the lake for fresh fish. It’s true what they say, you stand on the banks o’ the lake at Mereton, you can’t see the other shore, that’s ‘ow big the lake is. I was only there about a week, escort duty they call it. Truth is, we seldom have so much excess in Dun Meven to trade that we don’t put up in stores, and when we do, we take it in turns to go with the wagons to trade in Mereton. Gives us a bit of a break, see? From standing here, propping up this wall.”

  Elayeen tried to picture the town, but struggled.

  “You worried about your mate, Leeny? He’ll be all right in Mereton, plenty to do there, nice folks too. Business may be cut-throat but they got a town guard to keep an eye on things, made up from lads of the Black and Gold as well as Arrun. Place is important to both of us lands. Most of ‘em in Arrun is gentle folks, farmers and the like, but they’re a bit ‘arder in the bigger towns, and get a lot of travellers. Wise to keep an eye on ‘em. Your mate should be well on ‘is way back now, and the word he carried well on its way down the river.”

  Elayeen did her best to shake off the melancholy sense of loneliness that had been spreading while Finn chattered. “Thank you, Finn. I hope so.”

  “Dunno how you lot do it, to be honest.”

  “Do what?”

  “Everything. We heard from them coming back from the war that you’d all been dumped on by them back home, banished and all. And that you were the only elves to stand with us all at the battle. On top of all that, you take an oath to keep an eye out for all of us, watching out for that black-eyed git Morloch and his vermin, and going up against ‘em. Wouldn’t get me chasing down one of them Goth-lords Dannis told us about. Doubt I’d be much impressed by the prospect of winter in the wilds, neither.”

  The man’s honest admiration frankly expressed was astonishing to Elayeen, and she could find no words for a reply.

  “Bede not spoken to you about the war?”

  “No,” Elayeen managed, surprised by the sudden change of subject. “No mention has been made of it at all.”

  “Ah. Well, perhaps not surprising. He lost his eldest up at Far-gor. Thad, his name was, rode with the Heavies under Hern. Maybe you met him? P’raps not though, must’ve been a right muddle up there at Ferdan and beyond.”

  “I may have,” Elayeen said quietly, “I was with the Commander of the Army when he and his queen made a tour of the camp at Ferdan. They seemed to speak with everybody there.”

  “Aye, so we heard, so we heard. You saw them both up close then? The King of Raheen and his lady?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he as tall as they say? Always thought he must be a big bugger, spose he’d have to be to wave a whacking great sword about. And is she as beautiful as they say? Some o’ the lads coming back said they near wept with joy when she spoke to ‘em.”

  “Thal-Gawain is tall, yes. I would say the top of my head would scarcely reach his shoulder. I cannot speak to Thalin-Elayeen’s beauty…” Elayeen swallowed the bubble threatening to burst from her throat, and gazed away to the southeast again. “…though Thal-Gawain thinks her so, and others have said so. She had pretty hair… when last I saw her.”

  “Aye, well. Bede and me, and Devun too, we were all for going with the supplies up to Far-gor. We’re no spring chickens I know, though Devun’s a young enough bloke who should’ve been back from Harks Hearth long before now, idle bugger. Hurt us all, it did, when we were denied. Hurt us sharp. Orders from the king himself, so the lieutenant said who took the horses and the weapons north to Ferdan.

  “Orders. We were to hold here and ready Dun Meven for the retreat. We were to be a Raheen, they said, a bastion against the enemy when they come sweeping down from Juria. Never felt so ashamed, before nor since. ‘Shamed for not being there, when young Thad fell. ‘Shamed our king thought the line would break and the lands would fall. Ah, dear…”

  Finn sniffed, and eyed the southeast too, and they shared a silence broken by muted cheering as more Flagellweed fell on the terraces to their left.

  “Bede heard about the cairn, up there at Far-gor. You seen it, Leeny?”

  “I have,” she managed, giving a cough as if to clear her throat, “I was there, when G’wain read the names of The Fallen there, after the battle.”

  “Aye, we heard he done that. What a king! What a people them folk of Raheen must’ve been to have such as he for their crown! Ah… well, when we heard that, and heard the names were there, graven for all to see, well, Bede made up his mind there and then, one day he would go there. He’d take his missus Larina up there to Far-gor, to see Thad’s name writ there, writ there with the names of all the other brave lads and lasses who went where we were not allowed to go. Must be the fumes from the weed-cutting making my eyes sting…”

  Finn sniffed again, and wiped his eyes. “Blimey, dunno what got me started on that. We heard all the tales, from the lads who come back and rested here. Bede don’t like to talk much about it, though. He told me once, standing here, where you are now, when we were changing turns about on watch, he told me he don’t need to know how his boy fell in the fight against Morloch, it’s enough to know that he was there, and stood with his mates in the Black and Gold, and stood with his mates of all colours from all lands, and cried Vex! with all of them while they kicked vurken Morloch’s vurken black arse to the vurken moon and beyond!

  “Ever since then, we all agreed, we’d do our bit without blinking, if anything ever came up this road so much as carried the faintest whiff of Morloch. We’d stand. Monster, Meggen or man, we’d hold Dun Meven the way the lads held the line at Far-gor. It’s to our shame we ain’t wearing the emblem you got there on yer chest, but we can still take up the call of Vex, and do our bit.”

  Elayeen nodded, and wiped her eye.

  “Pissed us right off it did, that Graken staying well clear of our range. Maybe that’s what’s delaying Devun, he’s dragging a vurken great grappinbow behind him! And now, for us to know the Graken snuck by us all in the night and dumped that filth on us, well. Makes us more’n a trifle disamused, I can tell you.”

  “The enemy are far from honourable.”

  “Aye, so we’ve heard.”

  Elayeen took another sip from her goblet, and offered it to the guardsman, standing proud with his arms folded in his tatty village clothing. He politely declined.

  “Can’t, Leeny, on duty. Maybe later. You’ve not been to the tavern, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Well, when Bede takes the watch, if you’ve a mind, we can pop in for a draught and a hot pie. Get you out and about a bit. Dannis is a nice bloke and all, but a bit dry where conversation’s concerned. Do you good.”

  Elayeen was just about to answer when the sound of a distant, insistent bell carried down to them from the summit.

  “Bugger, there’s the alarm from young Ned.”

  On the terraces, the villagers promptly dispersed, leaving only the Flagellweed crew to douse the head-cutter in the armoured suit and haul him the steps.

  “Just precautions,” Finn explained, “When the bell rings, everyone takes their places and plays their parts like they did when you arrived. Here comes Bede. Signalman will flag brief word of what’s up, then a runner will come shortly after to give all the details what’s been seen as the cause for the bell.”

  “Probably bloody Devun dragging his sorry backside from Harks Hearth, idle bastard,” Bede smiled, “Morning Leeny, hope this old fart hasn’t been boring you silly?”

  “No,” Elayeen smiled, heart still beating faster even though the bell had ceased ringing.

  “If it is Devun and he’s got a hangover, I’ll kick his vurken arse,” Finn mumbled.

  “Look up. Signal from the top of the steps!”

  Look up all three did, and Dannis too, striding towards them at a deliberately casual pace. At the southern end of the
village atop the hidden steps cut into the wall of the cliff, a young lad was signalling with a pair of flags.

  “I do not know the code,” Elayeen announced, noting the smiles disappearing from the guardsmen’s faces.

  There was a pause as the two men read the signal, and waited while it was repeated for certainty, before Bede drew a white handkerchief from a pocket and began waving an acknowledgement up the boy.

  “Oh, plop,” Finn sighed, and glanced at Elayeen, “It’s not Devun. It’s a large group on horseback from the west, no colours seen.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, lady Ranger,” Bede announced, “Whoever’s riding through the valleys towards us ain’t our lot, and it ain’t Juria’s lot. Whosever’s lot it is, isn’t wearing a uniform of any colours nor flying any pennants the lads in the watchtower can see.”

  oOo

  42. Medium Veal

  The runner who scurried to the blockhouse a short time later described a mounted group of perhaps thirty men on horseback wearing either dirty loose clothing, or muddy brown garb which seemed too large for them. They were too far to see any obvious weapons, and rode in a column of twos, at a steady trot of a pace. The horses were small, most of them chestnut brown or black. They carried no lances, and no pennant to announce their allegiance, and if Dun Meven was their destination, it would take them perhaps fifteen minutes along the winding valleys before they arrived at the foot of the cobbled road.

  “Wouldn’t be our lot with the wizard from Callodon then,” Bede muttered, watching as the runner sprinted back towards the cliff face to resume his post. “They’d be Black and Gold and proud of it, too.”

  “It may be a party from Juria,” Dannis mused, “Not wishing to alarm our watchmen with their uniforms. Or indeed a party from Threlland, the four fellows who brought the wizard’s book wore no military garb.”

  “True,” Bede conceded, “But why would Threlland send thirty dwarves to Dun Meven? Or Juria send troops in disguise, for that matter.”

  “Ah well,” Dannis smiled, though his eyes betrayed his concern, “We shall discover soon enough. You could retire to your apartment if you wish, Ranger Leeny? I am sure Bede and Finn can handle whatever may transpire.”

  “Thank you, Serre Curator, but by your leave I would ensure Dun Meven’s visitors are but men, and do not harbour something darker in their number, wittingly or otherwise.”

  “Ah!” Dannis seemed genuinely pleased, and much more relaxed. “Thank you, dear lady Ranger. Your service is much appreciated. In truth, I think all of us secretly hoped that fellow Kern would remain here, and I know many of us now are similarly hoping you and your friends will think kindly of us and extend your stay.”

  “Alas,” Elayeen smiled, “When Meemee and Valdo return, we have duties in the south we must attend. If you wish, I shall make it known that Dun Meven occupies a position of strategic importance. Perhaps word will reach Thal-Gawain himself, and he will appoint a Ranger to stand watch here.”

  “You are very kind, and I am sure we are entirely undeserving.”

  Elayeen smiled graciously.

  “Time to get the ‘bows out, Finn,” Bede said, and then he turned to Elayeen. “Give us yer cup there, Leeny, I’ll put it aside for you.”

  The two guardsmen ambled to the blockhouse, taking her goblet with them and leaving her with both hands free. She tested the tension on her bowstring, rolled her shoulders, and then resumed her familiar pose.

  “Are you expecting unpleasantness, lady Ranger?” Dannis asked, quietly.

  “It is the Ranger’s duty to expect nothing less. It makes us seem a suspicious lot I know, but Thal-Gawain once said it is better to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t come, than to expect the best and be horribly surprised by the sight of your own headless body. Some of us take his lessons very seriously, knowing as little as we do of these eastern lands, and the insidious nature of the enemy.”

  Dannis smiled. “Well, the hill is steep, and at the best of times an enemy force would struggle up its slopes against our defences. With the tops of those slopes now seeded with ‘weed and ‘bulb, the only safe way in is up this road, which can be held by Bede and Finn from the safety of the blockhouse. I’m afraid we too err on the side of caution. It’s a habit formed through centuries of practice and one we find hard to break.”

  Elayeen glanced down at the cobbled road, and remembered the zigzagging climb up from the valley. Any riders approaching would be in plain sight of the blockhouse all the way up.

  “A tug of a rope lowers the false wooden wall in the manner of a shutter,” Dannis explained, “To expose openings through which the guards may rain bolts down upon the enemy. It isn’t very honourable, probably, but then we like our little village quite the way it is and don’t much fancy the idea of unwelcome visitors traipsing all over it.”

  “I am beginning to suspect, Serre Curator, that no-one here is quite who or what they appear to be.”

  “Goodness me,” Dannis feigned surprise, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “You have not seemed quite so deaf as usual, for one thing.”

  “Eh?”

  Elayeen smiled and flicked a glance at the elderly man. Gawain would like him, of that she had no doubt. She did, too. Bede and Finn returned, crossbows cocked and bolted and ported over shoulders, and together the four of them waited quietly, watching the road below.

  “Thirty two,” Finn announced confidently as the column hove into view from the northern end of the valley. “And they ain’t commoners.”

  “Aye,” Bede sighed, “Only military men ride that sharp. No colours, no pennants. But the way their clothes are flapping about in the breeze like that, no telling what uniform they got on underneath.”

  The riders came to a halt at the foot of the road, and turned their horses with great precision to face the cobbled track in line abreast. One of them rode forward a little, and was promptly joined by another.

  “Talking about what to do next, I reckon,” Bede muttered, and began a running commentary. Do we all go up together milord? I dunno Sergeant, what do you think? Best send a couple o’ the lads up first milord. Good idea, Sergeant, detail two of the men would you? Aye milord.”

  Finn chuckled as one of the riders peeled away, and sure enough, pointed at the ranks, selecting two of the men from them.

  “You, and you!” Bede announced in his best Sergeant’s voice, “Briskly lads, briskly now! Right, ‘is lordship wants us up that ‘ill, poke our noses in, see what’s what. Look fer defences and suchlike, then you keep ‘em talking, while me and ‘im nip back down ‘ere and let ‘is lordship know what’s what. Got it? Right you are Sarge!”

  Finn chuckled again as the three horsemen approached the foot of the road. Then they stopped. The whole column moved as one, riders untying belts and throwing open the grubby brown overclothing to reveal crisp uniforms of white and blue. Bows were unwrapped from grubby coverings and slung over shoulders, and a pennant was raised, fluttering in the breeze, bearing the unmistakeable symbol detested by all of the ninety-five. The tau of the Toorseneth.

  “Oh vayen vakin Denthas!” Elayeen gasped, a sudden flood of adrenalin exploding in the pit of her stomach. “Toorsengard! Vayen vakin Denthas, Toorsengard have come from Elvendere!”

  The sudden outburst and the obvious alarm in Elayeen’s voice stunned the men of Dun Meven.

  “Lady Ranger!” Dannis reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, “What is it? Who are they? Are they friend or enemy? What ails you thus?”

  Elayeen blinked, her mind reeling. Toorsengard on the border of Arrun!

  “Breathe gently, Ranger Leeny,” Dannis whispered, “In, and out…”

  She blinked again, and stared down to the foot of the hill. There was no mistake. They were guards of the Toorseneth, and there was no reason at all that they should be here, or anywhere else outside of Elvendere.

  Slowly, a lifetime of ingrained fear of the tau
faded, and anger blossomed in its place. Anger that all elves should feel such tremors on seeing the symbol in the first place. And then as if by some mystic means the shrivelled features of A’Knox and the bile spewed at Far-gor came flooding back to her, and her anger began to darken to a quiet fury.

  “They are enemies of the ninety-five,” she announced, her voice hard and bereft of all the lilting charm the men of Dun Meven had come to know. “They are Toorsengard, servants of treachery who bore from the forest the order of banishment for those elves who survived the Battle of Far-gor, and who were sent to execute sentence of death upon Thalin-Elayeen of Raheen. They are soldiers of the Toorseneth, whose corruption betrayed all the kindred races of Man to destruction in the north, and whose treachery saw these eastern lands abandoned by Elvendere in the hour of their greatest need. And though they are not dark-made, they do not serve the best interests of the Kindred, and thus Gawain has decreed they serve therefore the best interests of Morloch!”

  “Them bastards!” Finn spat, “We heard ‘o them from the lads come back from the war!”

  “Aye we did,” Bede glowered. “Them as tried to kill Raheen’s queen! And the ground there still wet with the blood of good men and women of all our lands!”

  Dannis straightened, his expression dark. “They shall receive no succour here,” he declared. “Nor shall they cross the line and set foot in Dun Meven. Those who abandoned the people of Callodon and all the free peoples of these lands shall find no welcome here.”

  “Those three are coming up,” Bede announced. “Do we let ‘em, Serre Curator?”

  Dannis nodded. “We’ll hear what they have to say for themselves. Then send them packing. If you wish, lady Ranger, you may take shelter there in the blockhouse. I doubt they will have marked you as we have marked them.”

  “No, thank you, Serre Curator. Rangers do not run from Morloch’s spawn, and we certainly do not run from Toorsencreed. We taught them that when they desecrated the battlefield at Far-gor. I shall neither run nor hide from them now.”