The Longsword Chronicles: Book 06 - Elayeen

by GJ Kelly

  “E… it’s me…” a voice announced, filled with dread and a depth of terror only love could know.

  “I know, G’wain, I know. I would know your light anywhere. Don’t kill him, G’wain, don’t kill the whitebeard!”

  “I won’t, though Reesen might. The whitebeard’s there, bound and gagged. E…”

  The blindfold fell away, and Elayeen blinked, and gazed into the steel-grey and tear-filled eyes that swam inches from hers.

  “All is well, my G’wain. You may touch me now… you may touch me now my G’wain… I am still your Elayeen.”

  oOo

  48. Balance

  Allazar tended to Elayeen’s wounds as best he could, Gawain fretting nervously outside the apartment while she bathed and changed into clean clothes. She’d caught a glimpse of Reesen, Tyrane, and the dwarf Ognorm, gazing with such hatred upon the bound and gagged form of Oze of the ToorsenViell that she had to ask Gawain again to ensure the elfwizard would live a little while longer.

  Now, wiping away tears and studying her swollen face in the mirror, Elayeen felt a new strength, and a new sorrow. She looked dreadful, in spite of bathing and clean clothes. The bleeding had stopped, her broken nose had been straightened and set by the First of Raheen, and her teeth, still loose and aching, had stopped bleeding. But her lips were swollen, her eyes blackened, her face puffy and tender.

  “How did you come here so quickly?” she asked Allazar’s reflection in the mirror. “The ToorsenViell said Callodon’s force from Harks Hearth will arrive tomorrow.”

  “And so it shall, I daresay” the wizard smiled sadly, “But when Gawain learned from Verdon at Porthmorl the nature of the threat, and later the nature of the Toorsengard from Reesen and Meeya Thalangard at Harks Hearth, he trusted no-one, as usual, but those of us who went with him to Calhaneth. We broke from the main force once clear of the Hearth.”

  “I knew he would come for me,” she whispered.

  “Of course.”

  “You came from the south side of the road? Where the Spikebulbs are?” she dabbed the last of her tears away, hazel-green eyes reddened and the lids puffy from crying.

  “We did. Reesen used his Sight to pick a path through them to the burned remains of a shed. We followed in his footsteps, and I used my humble powers to shield all four of us from view until I grew too tired to maintain the Cloak of Quintinenn. They had only one guardsman on watch, pacing back and forth. Reesen and Gawain shot him in the knee and throat, causing him to fall and tumble down the slope, clearing a path through the Spikebulbs for our convenience. Two more of them were despatched on our approach to this building, where Reesen said he saw your light blazing.”

  “And the Orb, Allazar?”

  “Gone, forever, in the ocean depths. The quest of the Orb of Arristanas was successful, though friends were lost, and new ones made. Gawain will tell you all, his place is here with you, my lady, it is not mine. Let me fetch him to you, he is beside himself with worry…”

  Elayeen gave a brief shake of her head. “If he were here now I would be nothing more than a weeping mess in his arms, and there would be no talking of deeds done, and yet to be done. The Toorsencreed cannot live. They must not leave here. And the people of Dun Meven must come home. There must be rites, for Dannis, and Finn. The weed must cleared, and the bulbs, and crops planted, homes rebuilt…”

  “All these matters shall be attended to, my lady…”

  But still Elayeen shook her head. “Now is not the time for G’wain and Elayeen to hold their hearts dearer than all others, Allazar. Not yet. There are still deeds which must be done. Is there any news from Tarn? Is all well there?”

  “Tarn? I believe so. We have had no news to the contrary.”

  Elayeen nodded. “Morloch appeared there, and a Graken attacked. It was one reason I left the warmth of lord Rak’s home. Morloch knew G’wain was in Juria, and you with him, too.”

  Allazar sighed, leaning on his staff. “We learned from Meeya at Harks Hearth what had happened there. It was her understanding of the nature of these spies of Toorsen which prompted the Captain of the Hearthwatch to insist she bore her news direct to Brock in Castletown, even though that meant a long delay in her return to you. He assumed there might be a spy in Harks Hearth, and wisely too, so it seems, and would not entrust Meeya’s news to common riders.”

  Elayeen ran a comb through her blotched hair, the dye slowly fading, but no amount of combing would make a difference to her appearance. With a sigh and a sniff, she turned to face the wizard, and gave a flicker of a weak smile.

  “I must now fulfil an oath,” she announced, before walking to the door, and opening it.

  Gawain was before her in an instant, his eyes wide with concern, hands hovering near her shoulders.

  “I am well enough, G’wain. Come, there is something we must do. Something I must do. Where are the captives? Are they unharmed?”

  “E… yes, they’re outside, Reesen and Ognorm and that youngster, Ned, watching over them. Elayeen, miheth…”

  “Hush, G’wain. I have already told Allazar this is neither the time nor the place for us. Not yet. Not while Toorsencreed live and the steps of Dun Meven lie choked with evil. Stand by me?”

  “Always, you know that. Why else do you think I am here, if not to stand by your side?”

  She smiled, and nodded again, and gently rested her fingers on his chest, over his heart. They stood there for a long moment, Allazar gazing at them sadly from the doorway, leaning on his staff. Then Elayeen sighed, and stiffened.

  “Where is my bow? Has it been found?”

  “Yes, Reesen has it. I asked him to leave it here for you but he wouldn’t let it go.”

  “He believes it is the last thing of mine he will ever touch. He has loved me for a long time, G’wain.”

  “I had guessed as much.”

  “Don’t be angry with me, for not telling you.”

  “I’m not angry with you, E. How can I be, with your hand on my heart?”

  His eyes were filled with love for her, and truth, and standing as close as they were, she could see something of her own reflection in them.

  “Come then,” she drew away. “There is something I must do.”

  Outside, the prisoners seated on the scorched cobbles, Ognorm gasped at the sight of her emerging from the soot-blackened doorway. Reesen could barely contain the rage he so clearly felt at the vile treatment she had been subjected to, and Ned took one look at her before striding forward and raining kicks into Oze’s ribs before Ognorm dragged him back.

  Of the thirty-two Toorsencreed who had ridden across Callodon and laid siege to Dun Meven, only four now remained, Oze of the medyen-Viell and three of the ‘gard. They were sullen, but glowered fiercely in defiance, clinging to their arrogance and beliefs as drowning men to straws.

  “Bring them,” Elayeen announced, her voice hard, and even Gawain seemed surprised at the power of command in her tone. He walked close beside her, down the scorched road through the village, over blood-soaked cobbles and alongside the smouldering ruins of the ancient hill-village.

  “On yer feet, yer thrukken ‘spits,” Ognorm bellowed, “Unless you want a taste of Nadcracker like yer mate down the road.”

  Allazar held his staff at the ready, walking wide of the knot of captive elves, eyes fixed firmly on the bound and gagged ToorsenViell. They passed the ruins of the blockhouse, Elayeen pausing briefly before continuing another thirty yards to the top step, ten yards short of the parlous stairs down which Norris and the others had descended in the Weedwalker. The air was filled with the acrid scent of Flagellweed, and it grew thick on the terraces for almost a quarter of the way down the slope.

  “Reesen,” Elayeen announced, and held out a hand for her bow.

  The elf stepped forward, his eyes refusing to meet hers as he held out the weapon which, she noted, had been well cleaned.

  “Mitak, mifrith,” she whispered, and Reesen nodded, and relinquished the bow.

  “Co
me closer to the edge,” she ordered the captives. “Do you not wish to behold your handiwork with pride?”

  Elayeen stepped closer to Oze, hatred streaming from his eyes, breath making his nostrils flare, the gag tight in his mouth to prevent any hope of a chant or spell. And then she pinned him with the Sight.

  “Where once grew nourishing crops of nature’s making, you brought that vile weed to choke the life from good land, and good people. Where there was peace, you brought violence and destruction. Where there was life, you brought death. You brought evil here in the name of your miserable creed, and for your own ambition and lust for power sought the Sceptre. All these things, you and your creed brought with you from the Toorseneth. In return, to maintain the balance, I now bring justice and the fulfilment of my prophecy!”

  And with that, Elayeen reached out, grasped the elfwizard’s grubby robe at the neck and heaved him forward, over the edge, and down into the Flagellweed below. Nor did anyone else need any urging in helping Elayeen’s prophecy to come to pass.

  oOo

  49. Aftermath

  It was Ned who by some secret means gave a signal to those in the refuge that it was safe to emerge, but only after Allazar’s torrents of white fire had made ashes of the Flagellweed and the remains of the Toorsencreed. When the villagers came out from under the hill, earning quizzical looks from the Orbquest but as yet no explanation from Elayeen, they found their rescuers gathered in sombre pose near the remains of the village well.

  Dannis, and Finn, their remains covered in sheets, lay on the simple camp beds taken from the command post apartment, awaiting the rites from the White Staff. The villagers gathered, Bede standing with his wife for support on one arm and his other around Ned’s shoulders, a gesture everyone knew Finn would have appreciated.

  The rites were solemn, and brief, and heartfelt, Gawain standing with his head bowed, the mighty and famed longsword held before him, its tip resting on the scorched cobbles. Elayeen stood beside him, her head bowed and hand on her heart, and all the villagers saw the tears she wept for the friends she had lost.

  Afterwards, stores were brought up from the down-below, Elayeen was examined and further tended by the village healer, and all waited for the arrival of the force from Callodon, wondering where to begin with the task of reconstruction.

  All of them were surprised, therefore, when, as the sun began to set on that 29th day of April, a call from the signalman atop the steps above the down-below’s portal drew their attention to the south of the valley, and to a mass of riders thundering closer from that direction. None were more surprised than Elayeen and Gawain when they saw the Red and Gold colours at the head of the force. The Last Riders of Raheen, summoned doubtless by Valin, with men of Arrun and Callodon from Mereton, and dwarves of Sarek’s Rangers.

  It wasn’t until those riders had come to a halt and mustered over the line that Elayeen caught sight of the pale-faced and sickly-looking elf, the left sleeve of his tunic empty and pinned across his chest, leaving the emblem of the Kindred in plain view. Not until the men were settled and Valin sleeping in the care of not one but two healers, did Elayeen learn from Rider Haldin how Valin had lost his arm to a Spikebulb, and how a small group of Sarek’s Rangers had followed the three elves’ path through Mornland and Arrun at Eryk’s command.

  The night was a long one for all, though when Elayeen finally closed her eyes and fell asleep in a chair in the command post apartment, it was with Gawain’s arms wrapped gently but firmly around her, and the Longsword of Raheen propped beside her bow.

  On the morning of the 30th, the force from Harks Hearth arrived, and a shocked Ranger Meeya was reunited with her battered childhood friend. The shock turned to tearful dread when Meeya saw the look in Elayeen’s eyes, and then she was taken to her husband’s bedside, where Elayeen ordered her to remain.

  The wizard in the party from Callodon set to work on the western slopes, clearing the Flagellweed there, while the villagers, aided by Rangers Reesen and Kern’s Sight, cleared the Spikebulb by the simple means Elayeen had suggested before the siege, rolling logs down the slope on ropes, and drawing them back up again.

  Everywhere she went, Elayeen felt eyes on her, and slowly began to notice the expressions of admiration, pride, and love on the faces of those regarding her. She was Ranger Leeny, the Queen of Raheen, who had stood in honour of the Rangers’ Oath for a tiny hamlet of humble farmers in Mornland, and with them, prevailed against an evil which had blighted their gentle lands for more than three centuries.

  She was Ranger Leeny, the Queen of Raheen, who had stood in honour of the Rangers’ Oath for a sheep farm on the coast of Arrun, and with them, prevailed against a Goth-lord and his army of Meggen, and pursued that foul servant of Morloch clear almost to Callodon’s borders.

  She was Ranger Leeny, the Queen of Raheen, who had stood for Dun Meven, who had fought for Dun Meven, who had carried Bede to safety and gone back into peril to fight for the Curator of Dun Meven. She had faced evil, and sealed the key within the refuge, risking all she had and all she might yet be for the safety of the villagers in the down-below, and though Dannis had been lost, together he and Ranger Leeny had vexed the enemy even unto its complete and righteous destruction. She still bore the marks of privation, of battle, and the wounds of torture, robbed of the beauty for which she had been famed, but now, in the eyes of all those atop the hill, more beautiful than ever.

  Still she kept working, keeping Gawain gently at a distance while arrangements were made for the defence of Dun Meven, reconstruction, and hopefully, a return to something resembling normality in the village. It was a great deal to be expected, but plans needed to be made and action taken quickly lest the sorrow of loss weigh Dun Meven down with mournful lethargy.

  Yet, those who knew Elayeen could also see the changes wrought in her, changes that went far beyond the harsh reality of her appearance. She moved now with a serenity and confidence none had ever seen before. Elves knew instinctively what that meant. Gawain and Allazar guessed until Elayeen confirmed it herself.

  That night, the village and its liberators and guardians settling quietly, a good watch set, meals taken and cleared, pigeons despatched to Callodon announcing that Dun Meven was once again a loyal possession of the Black and Gold and Raheen safe, Elayeen gently lifted Gawain’s arm from her shoulders, and softly kissed him. She glanced at Allazar, sitting on his camp bed and flicking through the copy of his own book which Dannis had been given, and he looked up.

  “Come with me, both of you,” she said. “There is something you must see. When you have seen it, then I shall relinquish my care to you, G’wain. My care, and that of our unborn son.”

  Gawain slung the sword over his shoulder, Allazar picked up the staff, and Elayeen her bow, and she led them from the apartment. Ognorm and Tyrane stood at once, but Gawain gave a slight shake of his head, and the dwarf and the man of Callodon settled back in their chairs.

  Outside, Elayeen led them through the darkness to the brambles beside the immense and disguised portals, and summoned the Sight. Certain that they were not being observed, she inserted the key Bede had returned to her, and opened the door, ushering Gawain and Allazar in. Only when the door was firmly sealed behind them did she speak.

  “Behold, the museum of Dun Meven.”

  The light from the glowstones in the roof lit the mustering area, though with a slightly dimmer glow after sunset. It was, except for Bede’s dried blood on the floor, exactly as Elayeen had seen it before.

  “Tyrane has spoken of it,” Gawain whispered, “But I believe he was duty bound not to give any detail, nor to permit admittance to any but the inhabitants of Dun Meven.”

  “The Curator gave me the key, and the last guardsman of Dun Meven has loaned it to me. I shall return it to Bede tomorrow. But come, this way…”

  Elayeen led them down the spiralling path into the heart of the hill, and finally, out into the immense cavern with its pool, platform, and tunnels.

  “B
y the Teeth…” Gawain mumbled. “You could hide a small army down here.”

  “Indeed,” Allazar agreed. “And I suspect that Callodon has done just that, in the past. For which of all of us who were at Far-gor should be most grateful.”

  “There is a book, in the chamber yonder,” Elayeen said, pointing. “Perhaps later, Allazar, you can look at it. Dannis told me it is very old. He believes it was Aemon, Master of Light and Fire, who made this place. A refuge against the barbarians of our past, ancestors of elder days, those to whom he brought order.”

  Allazar looked sceptical. “Well, this certainly is no natural cavern, any more than the vaults of Crownmount are of nature’s making. But Aemon is almost a mythical figure even by the Hallencloister’s standards.”

  “E, it’s cold, and I don’t wish to offend our friend Tyrane with our trespassing here. There is more to your bringing us here than simply showing us where the villagers hid when the Graken attacked.”

  “Yes, miheth,” Elayeen agreed. “Dannis told me that he believed, as did his father and grandfather, that Dun Meven is a relic of elder days, a refuge, made by Aemon. He gave me this,” and she drew out the map, and handed it to Gawain.

  “He gave it to me, as a father might gift an heirloom to a son, with the hope that it might one day serve the Kindred. It contains marks, as you can see, showing all the prominent hills that Dannis and his forebears believed are Aemon-made, as this is.”

  Gawain unfolded the map, and admired it with Allazar.

  “There are many marks upon this map,” Gawain announced. “Almost as many as there were Ramoth Towers when another map of this kind came to my hand.”

  “I know,” Elayeen agreed, gently taking back the gift, and folding it tenderly. The gesture was not lost on the wizard and his king.

  “Miheth, tell us what it is you’ve brought us here for?”

  Elayeen nodded. “Dannis mentioned wizard Arramin, and how he would have loved for that dear historian of Callodon to visit here. But Arramin never did. Dannis believed Arramin might find something in the faded pages of the great book, or some significance in the marks on the walls of the tunnels here.” Elayeen sighed, and walked to the water’s edge before continuing.