by C S Marks
Estle had likewise felt this false cheerfulness, but unlike Rogond she knew the cause of it. Hallagond was dismayed that Ali had forbidden him to enlist the aid of the six battle-seasoned prisoners who even now languished in captivity. The people of the Citadel needed their skills and experience—they were going into battle with few capable captains to lead them. Hallagond was not nearly as prideful as he had once been, but when he was right, he knew it.
Now he sat with Estle under a cloudy night sky. Soon the clouds would clear, but for now he enjoyed the misty dampness and the fresh smell left behind by the rain. Estle shivered a little in the damp, and Hallagond pulled her close, wrapping his warm, woolen cloak around her shoulders. Sometimes he believed that she was the only person in whom he could confide, for she alone truly knew and understood him. She accepted him as he was, and that was a great comfort. He turned his eyes to hers, and spoke in earnest.
“Did you mean what you said…do you care for me?”
She was surprised by the question. “Do you think I would make such a declaration lightly? Of course I care for you. Yet you have not made your own heart clear in this regard, and I’m still waiting.”
These words were met by a long silence, until finally Hallagond continued. “I must tell you some things that have been gnawing at me…can I trust you to keep them secret?”
She sighed. “You can trust me. What have you to say?” It looked as though she would have to wait still longer for Hallagond to declare the desire of his heart. Because she loved him, she would wait.
“Ali is wrong in not allowing me to carry out my plan with respect to the prisoners. He needs men like them...they understand the sort of decisions that must be made in battle, and are not afraid to make them. If I can spend a little more time convincing them, they will fight for the City to save their own lives. Ali’s fears are without cause. All our lives hang in the balance—at least he should allow me to try my plan.”
“Yet he seemed adamant,” said Estle with a note of worry in her voice. “You’re not thinking of going against orders, are you? That would be a mistake. Ali might throw you into prison before all is ended, and then we will not have you to aid us. Please, whatever you’re thinking of doing, think again. You might very well be right, and Ali might be wrong, but he is the Citadel’s commander, and he truly knows these men. You don’t.”
“Since what day did you become so law-abiding?” asked Hallagond, somewhat surprised that Estle had not immediately stood in support of him. “I thought you would remember that sometimes we must do what we think is right, despite edicts from authorities.”
“That’s Al-amand talking,” said Estle, looking directly into his eyes.
“Perhaps,” said Hallagond, his voice betraying no hint of his disappointment. “But I would remind you that Al-amand will not stand by and watch someone embark on a foolish course, even if that man is a friend, or an authority. I intend to try my plan, Estle, for it is the right plan. We need those men beside us. I believe I know how to convince Ali.”
“Why do those words fill me with dread?” said Estle.
“Just trust me. Only promise that you will tell no one of my intent,” said Hallagond. “Now, come closer that I may warm you, and properly show my gratitude. Let’s speak no more of these matters.” They spoke no more of them, or of anything else, until the breaking of dawn.
Gaelen returned to Rogond at first light, having spent the night alone with no one but Finan to share her fears. She had done this because she needed to choose her course carefully, with her own intuition to guide her. The opinions of others, even well-intentioned and thoughtful ones, could confuse and distract her. She loved Rogond, and he now kept her heart, but she would not allow him to sway her. He possessed a maddening tendency to make her consider alternatives.
“Why did you go out from here last night, Gaelen? I was…I was wondering.” Rogond knew better than to suggest he would restrict her freedom, and he also knew it irritated her when he fretted over her safety. In her mind, such worrying suggested that she could not take care of herself. She allowed him to embrace her, snuggling down into his strong arms, resting her head in the hollow beneath his chin, but she did not answer immediately.
Rogond was a patient man, and he knew that she would reply in her own time. He smiled inwardly as he recalled recent words of his friend Fima, on a day when he had been most exasperated with Gaelen.
Ah, Rogond, think on this: only one man in the world could have captured her heart, and that man would need both a loving spirit and a patient nature. Just think of the higher level of forbearance you have achieved since you met her. Soon you will have such skill and diplomacy that you could arbitrate the affairs of the Mighty, and you owe it all to our little Wood-elf. There’s a shining crystal inside the difficult grey stone. Ha!
Now Rogond held his difficult Wood-elf in a gentle embrace, feeling her truly relax at last, asking no more questions of her.
“I went out with Finan last night; I wanted to soak his legs in the harbor.”
“Was there no other reason?” It doesn’t take all night to soak Finan’s legs.
“I wanted to think,” she continued, with a slight smile. “It’s something I do once in a great while.”
“Indeed? And what thoughts came to you that you would share?”
He felt her tense again. “You will not like them,” she said.
“Tell me, then, and I’ll decide whether I like them,” he replied, stroking her hair to reassure her. “It won’t be the first time. Tell me, if you will.”
“I will ride out with Nelwyn, and we’ll set up a scouting-post in the desert. When the Scourge appears, we will take stock of their forces, for they will be much more apparent when the army is moving than when they’re encamped. Then we will return swiftly, so that the City has time to prepare. We still don’t truly realize what faces us...it might be helpful to know before it gets here.”
“What difference will it make?” asked Rogond, who, as Gaelen had predicted, did not like the notion at all. “Whether the Scourge numbers two thousand or ten thousand, the City is as prepared as it can be.”
“There are things moving with that army, and don’t ask me how I know it! I must find out what that dank smell is. I fear we will need time to make ready…time we may not have. At least if Nelwyn and I can bring it to light we’ll have a short while, which will be better than nothing.”
“What if Galador won’t agree to let Nelwyn ride out with you?” I expect he’ll care for this idea as much as he would enjoy being staked to an anthill while listening to a revered High-elven chant being performed by Hallagond.
Gaelen stiffened, and Rogond could almost feel the hair on the back of her neck standing erect as he said these words. She had always resented Galador’s interference in Nelwyn’s choices. “Nelwyn is her own person, and governs her own affairs. At least, that’s how it used to be.”
“Now, Gaelen, be fair,” said Rogond, trying to soothe her. “She attends to Galador’s wishes out of love. She wants to avoid causing him grief. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Gaelen’s voice still held a slight edge, but she relaxed back into his embrace. “I suppose I can, yet love should not seek to take away freedom.”
“Yet love will seek to protect from harm. You know that Galador will die to protect Nelwyn, even as you would.”
Gaelen sighed. “Why can he not understand that Nelwyn and I have faced untold peril for years unnumbered before she ever heard the name ‘Galador?’” Gaelen sometimes longed for the days when she and Nelwyn had roamed the Greatwood together, and the hardships they had faced, while challenging, were familiar.
“He knows this, Gaelen. I’m just reminding you that your desires and Nelwyn’s are not the only ones involved. She may not be riding out with you.”
“Then I shall ride alone.”
“I’ll ride with you,” he said, knowing that she would carry out any plan once she had decided it was necessary.
“You’re needed here, Captain of the Citadel,” she said with a smile. She felt his disappointment in his embrace, and turned her gaze upward to look in his eyes. “Be not dismayed, Thaylon. I will return to you. It takes only one set of eyes to learn what must be learned, and but one swift mount to return with the news. Take heart. Do you not know that I always wish to be at your side? Yet I am a hunter-scout; I must do what I was meant to do, and wait for our reunion. We shall fight then side by side, but tomorrow we will be parted until the Scourge approaches the gates.”
“Tomorrow?” Rogond felt a sudden dread take hold of his chest and squeeze it. He had not expected her to leave so soon.
“They had difficulty with the Fire-mountains,” she said in a distant voice, “and it has slowed their pace, but they will now gain speed across the Plains of Thirst. Our scouts must be in place very soon now...and you must make certain the wall is truly complete.”
He could not imagine how she knew such things, but he had learned never to doubt her. He said nothing, but held her until they parted. She went to find Nelwyn to ask for her aid, but he sat brooding for a while longer, seeking answers to many questions that he could not resolve. After a time, he rose and went out into the City, making his way to the Hall of Council to seek enlightenment from the one person who might be able to provide it.
The Scourge had indeed had difficulty with the Fire-mountains. Lokai would have nothing to do with the troublesome task of carting their water supply over such an obstacle, nor did he care for lightning-storms, for he was not immune to their effects. He was, of course, resistant to fire, but a well-placed lightning bolt shooting through his vast bulk would, at the very least, stun him quite thoroughly. Were it not for the services of their newly acquired dragon-master, the approach to the City might have ended right there.
The Scourge had found such a master in the person of Ikari the Anori-man. Formerly a bandit of Azori’s band, Ikari had fought viciously along with his companions, but like them he had been overcome. When his enemies had stripped him of his fine, black robes, they had seen the dragon-design across his back and shoulders; it was very ornate in red and black, green and blue. They knew it at once, though it was as rare as the men deemed worthy to bear it. It saved Ikari from being crippled, and later dismembered and thrown to the dragon, particularly once he had demonstrated his impressive abilities. Ikari had knowledge of dragon-lore that few in Alterra could rival, and when he first beheld Lokai he was nearly overcome, weeping with both joy and awe. He had thought never to set eyes upon one of the Great Ones. He stood before the beast’s huge, ugly snout, trembling as it lowered its head, fixing its malevolent, muddy yellow eyes upon this man who dared stand before it.
The man was either stupid or frozen with fear, and Lokai really did not care which. He extended his tongue just far enough to taste the air, and decided to make a meal of him, thrusting his great head forward. The man tensed and leaped aside, barely evading the huge, sword-like teeth.
Not yet, Great One…not yet… Ikari began chanting in an odd, buzzing monotone, swaying back and forth in rhythm, as the dragon’s eyes followed the hypnotic movement, blinking in dull surprise.
Ikari was terrified, and his pale face showed it. After all, he had performed this chant only in front of smaller beasts—cold drakes, mostly—never before a real dragon. But he had practiced it for many hours over days, months, and years. As he kept chanting for several minutes without being eaten, he gained confidence. The chant was mesmerizing; the peculiar buzzing quality lulled anything with scales, including snakes and lizards. Ikari had risked his life many times, practicing on the huge, deadly snakes of his homeland, and the venomous cold-drakes of the eastern isles.
Lokai wavered, and his head sank onto the sand. The hard, clear eye-shields drew across his now rather unfocused eyes. The vertical pupils, like those of a cat, yawned wider just before the dark blue leathery eyelids dropped down over them. The fearsome beast exhaled a long plume of steam as it fell into slumber. The dragon-master had beguiled it.
Black-clad Ikari stood alone before the sleeping Lokai, and there was no sound to be heard from the fearsome warriors of the Scourge. From that day on, Ikari was elevated to a status he had never enjoyed before, and was promised great power if he would join with his enemies. He had gone to Azok, who was tethered miserably to a pole with the other less talented captives, and told him that he had chosen betrayal. Azok replied that he could understand Ikari’s choice, and then spat in his face anyway.
Later, when the dismembered parts of the unfortunate prisoners were brought for Lokai to feast upon, Ikari recognized Azok’s powerful quarters and limbs, and he bowed slightly as they disappeared into the mouth of the Great One. He smiled sardonically at the memory of Azok and Azori, whom he had once thought mighty. The true power was here, in the person of this Great Beast, and Ikari commanded it.
Were it not for the small black figure that sat now just behind Lokai’s enormous head, the crossing of the Fire-mountains might have presented an insurmountable difficulty. Yet Ikari knew the ancient dragon-speech, leaning over and whispering into ear-holes so large that he could almost have climbed into them. Lokai remained stubborn for a time, but eventually Ikari convinced him, offering promises of food and comfort, water and blood, even the flesh of Elves. The dragon had tasted Elf-flesh only once before, and he had never forgotten it. Ikari smiled wickedly as his beloved, magnificent Lokai began to move forward at last. Soon, he thought, Galador would have yet another cause to hate him.
Hallagond made his way down to the Citadel’s prison and asked to speak with each of the six men that he had placed on his list of potential allies, selecting the two whom he deemed most suitable. Then he went to see Ali, who was standing atop the nearly-completed wall. As he approached, he heard Galador giving praise to the great depth and sturdiness of the wall, striding confidently back and forth upon it as Gaelen and Nelwyn stood by.
“Your people have done well,” he said, with a furtive look at Gaelen. “However, it’s a good thing I was here to assist in the building, otherwise you might not have made such progress.”
Gaelen, who had labored for countless hours, perceived the joke. “Yes, and it’s a good thing we made the wall as tall as we have, so that when I push your cocky self from it you won’t suffer much at all,” she said, winking at Nelwyn.
Though Hallagond would have preferred to speak with Ali alone, he had no time to waste. “Forgive me for interrupting,” he said, “but I have a matter of interest to Talishani Ali. Here are the histories of two men who have offered to serve, but have not yet come forward because…ahhh, circumstances have prevented them. Take a look. They seem as though they might be useful to our defense force.”
Ali scowled at Hallagond, taking the parchment from his hand. “I thought I made it clear that I have already searched the City, and have found every suitable man within it,” he said. “Do you doubt my diligence?”
“Not at all,” said Hallagond, bowing. “Yet there may be those few who escaped your notice somehow. Just have a look.”
Ali had some difficulty at first, for Hallagond’s handwriting was not as neat as it could be and some of the characters were unfamiliar. His brow furrowed, but then his eyes brightened with interest.
“Well? What do you think of them?” asked Hallagond.
“They seem experienced, but why was I not made aware of them until now? Why have they not come forward?”
“As I said, circumstances have prevented them,” said Hallagond. “Would you not agree that we are in grave need of their services?”
“I would, if what is written here is the truth. Yet I would know the names of these two fine officers, whose services are so gravely needed,” said Ali, who by now had guessed he would not be receiving any news that he wanted to hear.
“They are Ishtar Al-khamal and Haleck Visili,” said Hallagond quickly, trying to avoid wincing in anticipation of the inevitable response of Ali. There was naught but silence for a mome
nt as the powerful commander’s face grew dark.
“And you believe what they told you, if I understand this writing,” said Ali. “They obviously left a few things out. It may interest you to know that they are each responsible for several murders of innocent citizens. Do not continue on this path, Hallagond. Get it out of your mind!”
“Actually, they both proclaimed their innocence,” said Hallagond, which naturally displeased Ali even further.
“It means nothing that guilty men deny their guilt,” he said. His dark eyes had grown rather flinty.
Galador attempted to intervene before Ali became truly angry. “Hallagond does not always think before speaking. Keep that in mind.” He turned to Hallagond. “What has set you on this course? I realize you relate better to thieves and bandits than the rest of us do, but surely you know that Ali is right. We cannot have our lives turning on the trustiness of brigands.”
“Fine,” said Hallagond. “Then let’s have them turn on the directives of trustworthy people who have not the slightest notion of what they’re doing.” He bowed to Ali. “My apologies—I shall withdraw my efforts and abandon them. I do hope that the few battle-seasoned warriors standing with us do not fall too quickly.”
He looked over at Galador. “I appreciate your drawing attention to my unsavory history. After all, Ali must know the kind of man he is dealing with.”
Hallagond was obviously disheartened and angry, and Galador had done nothing for his good humor. He turned and began to walk away, leaving the parchment behind.
Ali called after him: “Hallagond, we do appreciate your efforts. Know that I understand and take your point. But this path, while it does hold some promise, could result in disaster, and I am unwilling to take the chance. Let that be the end of it.”
