Ahren was shaken by the story. Of course it was clear to him that sometime there must have been the first Dark One, but the fact that the location was known made it somehow more real and more tangible. His encounter with the Swarm Claw and its cunning evil, which was hidden beneath its animal instincts, was still very much present. The thought that all these Dark Ones had once been normal animals that had been violently changed filled him with a cold rage and a deeper determination to fulfil his task.
Falk had turned again and marched on and nobody felt up to talking for a while. The sun had travelled a considerable distance before Ahren’s curiosity got the better of him. ‘Who is this Voice of the Forest and why can’t we simply ask for permission to enter the valley? He asked.
Jelninolan gave a quick laugh and answered him in a warm-hearted tone. ‘the Voice of the Forest is the mouthpiece of the goddess. Her wishes and feelings are passed on to us that way. She is the highest judge and at the same time the spiritual leader of all the elves. No important decisions are taken without her advice. Only rarely has it been elves, mostly they are animals, once it was even an old tree. Now it’s a stag. The voice comes and goes as it pleases. No-one knows where it is at the moment’.
Falk added in a grumpy voice, ‘you see we have a choice between wandering aimlessly through an enormous forest in search of a particular stag or trying our luck with the Warden of the Weeping Valley. Seeing as time is not on our side, we’ve decided on the Warden’.
‘A warden?’ asked Ahren nervously. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking one little bit.
‘The Weeping Valley is one of the forbidden places for the elves’, answered Uldini while Falk and Jelninolan exchanged exasperated looks. ‘These places are always protected by a Warden, normally an animal, that’s under the special protection of the goddess’, he explained.
Ahren was silent as he digested the information, none of which made much sense. ‘Why exactly do need this lute at all?’ he asked in a slightly annoyed voice.
Jelninolan looked at him in astonishment. ‘You don’t know anything about the ritual?’
There was such surprise in her voice that Ahren immediately defended himself. ‘I know that we have to go to a certain place as quickly as possible and we have to have a certain somebody with us. Oh, and since this morning, I’ve known that we need certain things as well’. Somehow his defence had turned into a complaint but that didn’t bother him. Falk’s habit of keeping everything secret until the last minute was hard to put up with especially when, like Ahren, you were the centre of everything that was going on.
His master was about to respond vehemently but when he saw how stunned the elf priestess really was, he held back. ‘It was just for his own protection’, he finally mumbled and walked ahead briskly to create some distance between himself and the group.
The elf walked beside Ahren and put an arm on his shoulder.
‘You poor fellow. Falk is so used to carrying so many secrets around with him, that he keeps everything to himself. I’ll try to explain it to you’.
She looked at him from the side.
‘You know that you were chosen?’
Ahren nodded. ‘At the ceremony in the temple, which all the villagers considered an unimportant ritual’.
Jelninolan nodded. ‘We thought that ritual out ourselves in order to find the missing Paladin. Imagine the Pall Pillar is gradually dissolving and no-one knows where the thirteenth Paladin is. We would have had to comb the world looking for you and in the meantime He would be getting mightier and mightier. The Spring Ceremony was supposed to come across as irrelevant. Otherwise the Dark Ones would have been on your tracks even more quickly’.
Ahren shuddered briefly at the thought.
‘In those days, the newborn of a Paladin would be touched with a godstone. It would then, through this so-called focus stone, begin to absorb the strength of the departing Paladin. The child would experience as happy a childhood as possible in order to preserve and nourish the goodness within. With the onset of adulthood came the Naming. This is the ritual that we now want to perform. The candidate had to present an advocate from the world of people, dwarves and elves. This was necessary as only humans could be formed into a Paladin. The natures of dwarves and elves don’t allow for such a drastic transformation. And so a right to be heard was woven into the Naming ritual. No elf and dwarf advocate meant no Naming’.
Ahren nodded. ‘the Einhan. Falk told me about it. And why are the objects needed?’
The priestess responded. ‘In order that you couldn’t just invite any old elf or dwarf to take part in the Naming ceremony, they had to present themselves with a holy artefact of their people to prove that they were worthy of being an Einhan’.
‘Anyway it’s much easier to channel the blessings of the gods onto the chosen one if strong magical foci of the respective deities are present’, interjected Uldini with a dry smile.
Jelninolan spun around. ‘Do you have to rubbish the romance and splendour for everybody?’ she asked angrily.
Uldini raised his hands and gave a look of perfect innocence. ‘Not at all, my dear aunty. I just wanted to make clear that some of the ritual comes from a certain necessity. Otherwise the next thing he would have asked would be if it were possible to leave out some of the formalities in view of the circumstances’.
Ahren held himself back from laughing. That question really had gone through his head and he winked at Uldini behind the elf’s back. She had calmed down in the meantime and continued with her explanation.
‘Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the Naming. Uldini and his magic wand will be responsible for the human part, Tanentan and I will represent the elves. Regarding the dwarves though, that has me stumped. Dwarves are incapable of using magic, at least not in the proper meaning of the word. So I don’t know any Arch Wizard I could contact. And I can only describe the diplomatic relations between the elves and dwarves as indifferent coexistence, to put it kindly’. She looked over at Uldini with a questioning look.
He shook his head. ‘I’m the Supreme Head of the council of seven. You know that they like wizards even less than elves. If I could do anything, I could try perhaps as an emissary of the emperor to obtain an audience with the King of Thousand Halls. But whether he’d listen to us…’ Uldini trailed off, leaving the unfinished sentence hanging in the air and the two looked at each other in bafflement.
Suddenly Ahren burst out laughing. He hadn’t laughed so heartily in a long time. He held his stomach and laughed until tears were streaming down his face. Culhen jumped around him excitedly with his tail wagging and seemed to be taking part in his friend’s enjoyment, while the arch magus and the elf priestess looked at each other dumbfounded.
‘Maybe it was too much for him in one go’, murmured Uldini and tapped his head knowingly, but Ahren waved dismissively.
Gasping for breath and trying to control his laughing, he managed to respond. ‘You are a mighty wizard and an elf high priestess, both of you are ageless and on the council of the seven. But you’re still as much in the dark as I am when it comes to Falk’s plans. An old Forest Guardian is dictating to you how things are going to proceed and is leading you by the nose, just like he’s doing to his young apprentice’.
His two companions looked so surprised and helpless when he said this, that he broke into another bout of laughter. It could of course be true that all the events were too much for him and that was why he was reacting hysterically, but by the Three, it was good to know that even these mighty figures had their limits and could be kept in check by a grumpy, uncommunicative man.
Jelninolan smiled good-naturedly at Ahren and her face indicated that she understood the irony, but Uldini refused to let the matter rest. ‘Falk!’ he thundered in a magically enhanced voice, and with lightning speed he flew up to the Forest Guardian, who had been tramping ahead of them all this time.
Ahren managed to regain some control of his laughter and watched amused as Uldini gave
his master an earful. He responded calmly with a short answer and then turned and continued walking. Uldini floated for a moment and stared at the Forest Guardian’s back. Then yellow sparks started flying in all directions from it, blowing up dust from the forest floor. The wizard meanwhile returned to the others, all the while cursing to himself. As soon as a curse was uttered, a particularly bright flash would discharge on the ground. By the time he reached them, the flashes had disappeared but Uldini’s eyes were still smouldering like yellow fire.
‘What did he say? Asked the elf.
‘That we’d find out soon enough’, said Uldini through gritted teeth.
Ahren was about to burst out laughing again when he saw Uldini’s face. He knew, chosen one or not, that if he didn’t pull himself together, he would spend that evening as a toad. So he bit his tongue and walked quickly ahead of them so that they would only see his shaking shoulders as he tried to suppress his laughter.
Chapter 20
They caught up with the old Forest Guardian that evening. He had set up camp beside a small pond. There were no insects on the water and the fire had already burned down to its embers. Jelninolan raised her eyebrows quizzically but Falk pre-empted her.
‘Only dead branches on the ground, it just burned for a short while. But we need the heat for our supper’. He took a bundle from the fire. Various vegetables that he had wrapped in the local leaves to protect them from the fire. Soon they were sitting together and eating in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts.
Ahren was ravenous and gobbled down his food, secretly glancing every so often at the others, while tickling Culhen, who was grumbling contentedly beside him. Nobody seemed to want to break the silence so Ahren decided to ask the first question that came into his head.
‘How exactly are we going to get into the valley if it’s forbidden? Are we going to fight with the Warden?’
Falk cleared his throat and looked over at him earnestly. ‘It’s not that simple. If we were to attack the Warden or to enter the valley illegally, we would have the elves on our backs. Not even Jelninolan can enter the Weeping Valley without the permission of the Voice. Only animals under the protection of the goddess are allowed in’.
‘So what are you planning?’, Ahren persisted.
‘We won’t be going in, but Selsena will. She knows already and will be waiting for us there. She is under the protection of the goddess and so should be able to pass. Whether she can bring the lute back with her is another question. Hopefully this loophole in the law will be enough. Otherwise she’ll have to fight the Warden and we won’t be able to help her’.
Jelninolan nodded, concurring. ‘it would be a ritual duel between too creatures of the goddess. Nobody can intervene and everyone must respect the result’.
Falk spat into the embers. ‘I don’t like it. Too many hitches in the plan and no way of supporting her should anything go wrong’.
The three began debating the issue again and they ended up going around in circles. Finally, they all settled down to sleep without having come up with a better idea.
Ahren was the first to wake after a restless night. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and quietly went over to his rucksack to see how his patient was getting on. The chipmunk was still there and had rolled himself up into a little ball of fur. He was fast asleep. Ahren could see that the cut was healing nicely. Half of the nuts had been eaten and it wouldn’t be long before the animal would be well enough to fend for himself again. He closed up the rucksack, freshened up, and began, out of pure habit, to dismantle their sleeping quarters while the others slowly woke up. Falk nodded approvingly and then they had a cold breakfast of fruit before moving on.
According to Jelninolan they would reach the border of the Weeping Valley by midday. The morning’s march was peaceful and quiet, each of the travellers mulling over things. The sun shone low through the leaves, there was a light mist hanging in the air like little spider-webbed flags fluttering among the trees .The air was aromatic and clear and Ahren was surprised again at how timeless this forest seemed to be. Spring, summer and autumn all seemed to combine into one season, keeping this forest in a state of perfect harmony.
Culhen jumped playfully beside him, running off into the forest every now and then when he got the scent of something exciting. Sometimes he returned with spoils, mostly not. Jelninolan didn’t say anything, which suggested that he was permitted to hunt, as part of the endless natural cycle of hunter and prey.
They finally came to a slope which led down into a small valley. It was hardly more than a large depression, perhaps two hundred paces in diameter and didn’t have many trees. Its surface was covered in a thick moss and several types of climbing plants were visible. A fine mist, hardly hindering their view, hung over the whole valley. It lay on the plants, and droplets constantly dripped to the ground from the leaves and branches. It was almost as if all the plants were in mourning.
‘Before you lies the Weeping Valley’, said Falk quietly. ‘Selsena should be with us any minute’.
The unicorn trotted up to them out of the undergrowth twenty heartbeats later and greeted them all with a friendly snort and a wave of welcoming joy. Ahren suspected that some of the tension of the previous few days had come about because Selsena hadn’t been with them to exert her calming influence.
Jelninolan now spoke to the Elven-horse. ‘The lute is hanging on a tree in the middle of the valley’. She pointed at a speck and when Ahren screwed up his eyes and looked at the spot he could make out the outlines of the lute, which was hanging just three paces high on the trunk of a massive tree.
‘It has a carrying strap you can wrap around your horn’, the elf continued. Then she patted the Titejunanwa’s flank and stood aside.
Falk looked her in the eyes. Whatever he was saying to her, he was communicating it silently. Selsena shook her head and snorted, then trotted down to the valley. Ahren instinctively held his breath and even Culhen sat on his hind legs and watched their companion with his ears pricked and his nose in the air as she went off. Everybody was stock still and after ten heartbeats Falk slowly breathed out.
‘So far, so good. Her presence doesn’t seem to be presenting any problems. The critical point is coming now’.
The silver-white figure carried on until it arrived at the artefact. It was still quiet from within the valley. The only sound was the water drops falling from the plants to the ground. It was only now that Ahren noticed how quiet the place was. There wasn’t a bird to be heard, not even in the part of the elf forest they were standing in now. Nor was there a breath of wind. As if the forest itself were holding her breath.
Selsena stood on her hind legs and stretched her horn against the trunk of tree in order to slip the carrying strap onto it. Suddenly the ground around her moved.
Ahren wanted to shout a warning but the unicorn had already reacted. With two prancing steps she had escaped from the centre of the movement and then Ahren saw what was moving. Moss was crumbling off shimmering green scales, where the Warden of the Valley of Weeping had been slumbering for years. Its tiny eyes on its large head were eyeing the intruder, and the enormous snake wrapped itself protectively around the tree and raised itself up. The animal was enormous. It’s head alone must have been the same size as Ahren’s upper body, and although more than half its body was entwined around the tree, the monster still towered four paces above Selsena and stared down at her. This monster made a terrifying impression but Ahren knew immediately that it wasn’t one of the Dark Ones. Its whole presence suggested it was purely and simply a beast of prey. There was a purity and an animal vigour about this beast, unadulterated by the malevolent intelligence of a Swarm Claw or a Fog Cat. The sole point of this enormous snake was the protection of this place and the eternal circle of hunter and prey. There was a certain dignity inherent in this clarity, and Ahren was sad that Selsena was forced into taking on this creature. It wasn’t her enemy, but it was just following its natural instincts. Selsena pranced to
wards the tree trunk and the snake’s head immediately jerked down towards her and snapped. Ahren wasn’t sure if the snake had missed its target or if it was just issuing a warning. He glanced at Falk and saw that his master didn’t know either. Jelninolan had put a hand on his shoulder and Ahren was certain that it was only this silent reminder of the rules that prevented him from rushing in to help his companion. The Elven-horse was now trotting around the snake in a circle, testing out its reactions and movements. The beast’s head followed her every move while its scaly body wound easily around the tree trunk. Whenever Selsena tried to move as much as a hoof nearer, the snake’s head would dart forward, warning her to keep her distance.
‘Tell her she has to change her tactics’, muttered Uldini quietly. Falk showed no sign whether he had heard the advice but two heartbeats later the Titejunanwa turned away and trotted back two dozen paces. Then she turned around and began to charge towards the snake.
Falk loudly drew breath and whispered, ‘risky, my girl, far too risky’. Soon she was within the enormous animal’s reach. It had opened its mouth and revealed fangs the length of two short swords. Moss was being thrown up by the unicorn’s hooves, the snake’s head darted downward at lightning speed and for a moment it seemed to the onlookers that the two adversaries’ forms had blended together.
Ahren screamed, for it seemed to him that the Warden had caught his friend. Then Selsena spun along the armoured body of the snake, gouging a deep tear into the green skin. Some of the scales came flying off and for the first time the snake emitted a deep, dangerous hiss. Selsena galloped on in order to get beyond her opponent’s reach. The snake snapped after her, but the Elven-horse was too fast for it.
Ahren- the 13th Paladin Page 32
