The Exile of Elindel

by Carol Browne

  “My dear,” she said, “it seems there is but one thing you must do. Find the Lorestone and use it.”

  “Yes . . . but how?”

  “Let us hope that Faine will show you the way.” Kendra smiled, but then her expression hardened. “You ask what the danger is. I do not know, but it is certain. It is great. The Ninth Book would have it so. And it is Bellic who told me. I may not doubt him.”

  “The King of Misterell, is he the danger?” wondered Elgiva.

  “He may be. Or part of it,” said Kendra.

  Elgiva tightened her grip on Kendra’s hand, and her heart brimmed with fear and revulsion. “I think we’ve already met.”

  Kendra nodded. “He’s bound to know all about you.”

  “He’s evil, Kendra,” Elgiva said. “Am I to oppose him? I can’t!”

  “What happened, when you met?”

  Elgiva shook her head and pulled back her hand.

  Godwin’s forehead creased with concern, and he looked across at Kendra.

  “If you won’t tell her, I will,” he said.

  Elgiva made no protest.

  “Elgiva said he was testing her,” said Godwin. “He could have destroyed her, but he refrained. Why would he? Is she more powerful than he expected?”

  “Sadly, no. Elgiva is only a wardain, Godwin, and one wardain cannot know the strength of another until it is tested. If Vieldrin, being stronger, then chose to withdraw, he must have had a very good reason to want her alive.” Kendra sighed. “There are so many things Bellic would have taught you about magic, Elgiva.”

  “Can’t you teach me?” asked Elgiva.

  “Think you that I have magic, child? It’s not for me to teach the uses of power. I have the gift of healing. I read the stars and the runes. I’m a keeper of arcane knowledge. I talk to trees and animals. There are many kinds of magic, my dears. That a tiny acorn can become a great oak, what is that but magic? But I know nothing of real power, the sort royal elves use. One thing, however, I do know is that you must not play with it. Magic is a gift, not a sport, not a toy. It must be used wisely and for all the right reasons. There’s always the danger, without proper schooling, of magic being misused.”

  “You say you know nothing of power,” Elgiva said, “but be honest, Kendra, you know a great deal about everything.”

  Kendra chuckled. “By the stars! Much knowledge may be gained by study, they say. There’s no mystery in that. But ’tis wrong to credit my poor pate withal. My sources are not extraordinary. Perhaps my knowledge, too, was ordained and we have all been chosen for a purpose.”

  “Who chose us?” asked Elgiva. “Faine?”

  “Who can say, my dear?” replied Kendra. “But suffice it to say, if we are chosen, we must accept our destiny and strive to fulfil it.”

  Elgiva drew a long breath. “Misterell.”

  “Yes, my dear, the Lorestone,” said Kendra.

  “But where is Misterell?”

  “Many leagues to the northwest . . . I think.”

  Elgiva frowned at the uncertainty in Kendra’s tone. “You think? Don’t you know exactly?”

  Kendra shook her head. “Why can things never be simple? Give me some more of that ale, my dear. I’m hoarse from all this talking. A moment or two to gather my wits, and then we shall speak of Misterell.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kendra held out her goblet, and Elgiva filled it with ale. The old woman quaffed the gale beer, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and placed the empty goblet on the floor.

  “Misterell,” she began. “’Tis the most magical of all the elven kingdoms. Everything about it is strange, and ‘tis a place that breeds legends and myths. Faine First-Father loved it—”

  “This, I know,” Elgiva said.

  “Yes. Be patient, child,” said Kendra. “Other kingdoms have always feared it. Thus did its rulers seek to protect it and ward it against the outside world. The land is enchanted, and ’tis a hard place to find, for it has turned in upon itself and withdrawn. Bellic is the only elf I know ever to have been there. Whatever lies within Misterell, you must find out for yourselves.”

  “Is it really an evil place?”

  “I do not know,” answered Kendra. “Some legends would have it so, for it turned against the Founder, despite his love for it. All I know is the spell that surrounds it makes travellers stray from their path. Bellic tried to find it many times before he succeeded. The forest wove a spell of confusion to protect itself from outsiders. Eventually, Bellic focused his mind on the enchantment itself and followed it to its source.”

  “But if he entered Misterell and left unharmed, it can’t be an evil place,” said Elgiva. “And wasn’t Eldruin a good king and his friend?”

  “So I was told,” replied Kendra, “but we can all appear to be what we are not. And Misterell can do likewise. If Bellic returned unscathed, perhaps it was only because Misterell wished him to.”

  “Or because Eldruin wanted to trick him,” said Godwin, “and the Ninth Book is a lie.”

  Elgiva and Kendra looked at him, and he shifted in his seat. Uncertainty hung in the air above them, and doubt coiled in the shadows, as dark as despair.

  “Of course, my dears,” Kendra said. “There’s only one way to find out the truth about Misterell. You’ll have to go there and see for yourselves.”

  “If Bellic wouldn’t tell you what the truth was, it must be something bad,” Elgiva said. “I don’t think I want to go there. In fact, I don’t think I want any part of this.” Her inner tension was becoming too much to bear. It propelled her to her feet. She glowered down her nose at the old woman with all the petulance she could muster. “Why can’t someone else find the stone? Someone with real power? Why me? Why pick on me?”

  Kendra smiled. “Elgiva, don’t be childish. Someone has to find the Lorestone. Why shouldn’t it be you? Think you other wardain can leave their lands without protection to go gadding about after legends? Has Bellic had the time or the opportunity to tell them all he knows? Would it be wise for him to do so? And would they find the Lorestone if they tried?”

  “Why shouldn’t they?”

  “Because it’s not their destiny, child.”

  “Destiny! I’m sick of that word. I don’t believe in destiny!”

  “Nevertheless, it’s a fact,” said Kendra. “I’m older than you, Elgiva, and I have seen and heard and felt many things. I have discovered that too often, we disbelieve when there’s no solid proof, and all we achieve is to close our minds to the unknown wonders of this world. We narrow our vision and are left with nothing but the bare bones of existence. I have learned ‘tis better to keep the mind open.”

  Kendra looked at her with a gentle smile, but Elgiva was unable to return it. The weight of all her responsibility seemed to crush her, yet it appeared there was no one else to carry it. “I have no choice, do I?”

  “We all have that,” said Kendra. “We all have the freedom to act in whatever way we think is best.”

  “The very name of Misterell fills me with dread, and I won’t pretend I can see any sense in going on this fool’s errand.”

  Kendra clearly saw fit to ignore this remark. “Apart from the trouble in Elindel, other elven kingdoms may soon fall prey to Thallinore’s greed and the schemes of Vieldrin and Tarkinell. Wilthkin lands as well, perchance. For those who desire to take and possess, boundaries have no meaning. The Lorestone may be the only hope for us all. Be it a legend or a lie, it must not go unexplored.

  “Now, Misterell,” said Kendra. “You must go northwest till you reach a great forest. Not only is this forest large, but long and narrow too, and you will have to decide if you’re going to walk through it or go round it. The latter course will cost you a day of travel, at least, but to cross the forest will take a few hours. That seems straightforward, but it may be unwise to brave that place without the protection of magic. Bellic calls it the Forest of Shades. It lies under some kind of spell—perhaps the influence of Misterell. Well, you will have t
o decide for yourselves. But if you cross it, be aware, and do not stop until you are safely on the other side. I think even the trees are dangerous.”

  “How can trees be dangerous?” asked Elgiva.

  “I dare not imagine, for I have never been there. Well, once you’re through the forest, keep going northwest and hope you find what you seek. I cannot give directions. Landmarks may be inconstant. Be ever on your guard against danger and deceit.” Kendra glanced at her guests and then nodded, as though her task were done. Then she got to her feet. “All this talk has made me hungry. I made a fruit cake yesterday. I think it’s time we ate it.” She turned to walk away and then stopped. “You asked me a question, Elgiva, which I have yet to answer. Forgive me for forgetting. You wanted to know the connection between your great-uncle and myself.”

  “Kendra, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Bellic is my father.”

  A sly grin of amusement stole across Kendra’s face. She turned quickly and shuffled towards her shelves, while Elgiva and Godwin stared at her back in silence.

  ***

  The night matured, and Elgiva and Kendra continued their discussion of elven affairs. Lulled by the warmth of the fire and the potency of the ale, Godwin’s attention drifted away from his surroundings.

  He was a little envious of Elgiva. She was learning the truth about her past, something that would never happen to him.

  The past was one thing, but what about the future? Great danger loomed ahead, and if he went with Elgiva, he might get killed and never return to his family. How many days had he been absent already? He had no idea.

  He glanced at Elgiva. She seemed so small and frail, despite the powers she supposedly possessed. She looked like a vulnerable child. How could he envy such a tormented, self-doubting creature? She still needed him. He had made an oath. And Kendra had advised them to stay together.

  Elgiva might not believe in destiny, but he did. Deep inside, in a secret place where dreams and hopes were hoarded against a time of emotional famine, he felt it to be true.

  He had been born a free man, but the Saxons had taken by force whatever birthright had been his.

  They killed your sister and made you a slave. Did you never think of running away?

  Othere had been a fair master and yet, by Frigg, what right had he to make slaves of others? Godwin realised how deep his anger ran, how much he resented Othere and all he stood for, but he also had to confront his jealousy towards Elric, who had landed like a cuckoo and ousted Godwin from his master’s paternal affection. The shock of these conflicting emotions staggered him.

  There were things in his life that had to change, but how he did not yet know. Perhaps all he could do was go with Elgiva and risk whatever stood in their way, be it shendkin, forests, evil elves, or anything else. It might test his mettle, might show him what kind of a man he really was. Perhaps that was his destiny.

  He stared at his empty goblet. He was clenching it so hard, his knuckles were white.

  As he sat there, immersed in his inner turmoil, a small voice called to him from the distance. Then a hand touched him gently on the arm and jolted him back to reality.

  “Godwin, are you all right?” asked Elgiva. “You’re trembling. Are you ill?”

  “I’m all right.” He returned to staring at the fire.

  “We’ve been cruel, Elgiva, excluding this poor young man from our talk,” said Kendra. “No doubt he’s bored, and when folk get bored, their minds start to wander, and who knows what they might dwell on. He has things that trouble him, just as we do. Forgive us, Godwin. I think we’ve talked enough. ’Tis late, and you two look fit to drop. I’ve some soft straw pallets in there.” She pointed towards a curtained chamber. “A good night’s rest is what you need.”

  Suppressing a yawn, Elgiva stood up and bid good night to her friends, and then she made her way towards the curtained chamber. Godwin pushed himself to his feet and prepared to follow her lead, but Kendra had more to say.

  “Before you retire, Godwin, there is something I wish to tell you. I do indeed see more than most people, and I see in your heart the great burden you carry. You are being torn in two. Please believe me when I tell you that your family is quite safe. Your home will be there for you when you return, but until that time, you must stay with Elgiva. I feel you may be the only person who can help her fulfil her destiny, and perhaps you need her to fulfil yours.”

  Godwin grinned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I do believe you and I thank you. I care so much for Elgiva, and I want to help her, but she would never understand how much it hurts me to be away from my daughters especially, and I don’t want her to know, either.”

  “She will not hear it from me, but do not be so quick to assume she’s ignorant of your pain. You know her better than that, surely? Now, away with you and sleep well.”

  ***

  The next day, during their preparations to leave, Kendra gave Godwin a stout sacking bag filled with whatever food she could spare. It had leather straps that looped over his shoulders. A seemingly bottomless chest in the curtained chamber also provided him with a new linen shirt, woollen tunic, and cloak.

  Having bathed and shaved and eaten a good breakfast, Godwin had sharpened his sword on a whetstone, and although the sky was dark with the threat of snow, he felt equal to whatever lay ahead.

  Elgiva was now attired in a grey woollen robe. Over this, she wore a brown hooded mantle held below the throat by a silver clasp.

  There was one more treasure in the cavernous chest.

  “A fine sheath for a fine blade. ’Twas made in Peranduil,” said Kendra, handing Godwin a leather scabbard.

  He accepted her gift. The old Godwin had now been discarded along with his servant’s rags, and he fancied he had the aspect of an errant warrior intent on bold deeds.

  Everything had changed since their meeting with Kendra, taken on a different perspective. They were starting out on a new adventure, but one with a worthy and serious purpose.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Godwin’s elation was starting to waver. The weight of the pack he carried was impinging upon his sense of adventure, and he knew he was still playing the servant’s role, for he had volunteered to carry all of their gear. Too late to start complaining now, and there was no point in feeling resentful. It was entirely his own fault for wanting to appear so strong and dependable.

  Elgiva was walking some way ahead of him, cocooned in thought. He noticed a tension in the way she carried herself, a stiffness in her shoulders that was so unlike her usual graceful posture. Perhaps he should leave her in peace, but he couldn’t cope with this protracted silence. To lift her spirits, but mostly to vanquish his boredom, he caught up and tried to set a conversation going.

  “By Frigg, it’s cold. I thought we might be in for warmer weather by now.”

  She smiled at him. “We are. Be patient. You wilthkin are obsessed with the weather. Believe me, this is the last snow we’ll see before next winter.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Kendra said so. She knows much about weather-lore.”

  “I see.”

  This conversation was leading nowhere. He needed to be more direct; his friend was troubled, and there was no sense in skirting round the problem.

  “Do you think Kendra spoke the truth?”

  “About the weather?” Elgiva asked.

  “No. About . . . you know.”

  Elgiva frowned and gazed towards the horizon. “I’m confused. I can’t believe it, yet I have to. I’m wondering if I dreamed it all, or if it was the gale beer. If it’s all true, then it’s too much for me to take in. How can I say if she spoke the truth? I don’t know her.”

  She turned towards him with a look of helpless anger. “How could they do this to me, Godwin? They keep things a secret for all these years and then tell me who I am and what I’m expected to do, like it or not. I’ve got these powers, so I’m supposed to act accordingly with no time
to adjust. Here we are, searching for a place that may be impossible to find and a stone whose location is unknown, and we’re doing it because two long-dead elves had visions. Doesn’t it all seem a bit vague and pointless? I mean . . . ”

  She stopped and spread out her arms. “We’ve nothing definite to guide us. It’s not fair, Godwin, and they could . . . they could at least have given me time to get used to the idea of being a wardain. They expect me to act differently, but I’m still just me. Imagine, Godwin, if someone came up to you and said, ‘Oh, by the way, you can fly, but we didn’t want you to know until now, because now we need you to fly to the moon for us.’”

  Godwin nodded and searched for a better topic to lighten the mood.

  “Why don’t you tell me about Lord Faine?”

  Elgiva looked taken aback, and then she smiled. “Ah, Faine, the First-Father, the Founder of all Elvendom. He was a wardain long ago, in the days before elves had either magic or the gift of universal speech. I don’t know where my people, the Eldrakin, came from, but we were in this land centuries before the wilthkin. Faine united the Eldrakin into one kingdom with himself as the first king. It fell to him to discover magic, or rather, it was granted to him by the Earth Spirit.”

  “How?”

  “Bellic told me Faine understood all things are one. He was one with the Earth and its power. They communed with each other.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Sometimes Bellic’s lessons were a bit beyond me, too,” she said. “Let’s just say that by being what he was, with his kind heart and integrity, Faine earned the respect of the Earth Spirit and so was granted a share of the Earth’s magic. And he became a great leader and king, yet he always maintained he was merely a servant of a much higher power. Whatever you wish to call that power—love or good—it is the life force that sustains the universe.”

  Godwin frowned and tried to stretch his mind around the concept of something larger than a settlement. “Kendra implied his spirit may still be working for the benefit of your race,” he said, knowing himself to be surpassed by the topic, but eager to show his interest.