Elfhunter (14 page)

"I will keep your secret," he said, embracing her as
a friend fearful of losing her, and her resolve wavered again at
his comforting touch. Then she pulled back from him, eyes clear and
bright as he bent to kiss her forehead. Taking both his hands in
her own she spoke to him once more before turning to leave.

"So, am I forgiven?" She smiled, though her eyes
still shone with unshed tears.

"You are forgiven…
this
time. But I shall
not
forgive you if you allow yourself to be taken beyond the
borders of this world. You must safeguard yourself so that I may
hear your tale at last. You owe me that much!"

"Then that I shall do. And you will no doubt have new
tales of your own when next we meet. Farewell, my friend, and be
content that when I return our reunion will be fair and sweet." So
saying, she turned and left him again to his bow. But the next few
arrows did not find their mark, and it took Wellyn many days to
shake off the melancholy that came over him as Gaelen’s footsteps
faded and were heard no more.

At last all was made ready, and they departed in
stealth as the dark of night loomed at their backs. They would see
no stars; a gloomy late winter day would give way to a cold late
winter night. Nelwyn looked back over her shoulder in regret as she
and Gaelen made their way beyond the hidden gates of the
Elven-hold, crossing into the forest beyond. While it was good that
they were away at last, she hoped that Galador would find her
message and would take it well, understanding the reason for her
going without him. She would very much have preferred had it not
been so, as in her eyes he was fair and worthy, and would have been
of great comfort. She knew she would miss his company on the road,
as they had spent much time together and learned much of each other
in recent days.

The memory of those past days would have to be
enough, however. Gaelen was right that they should not interfere
with whatever plans had been made already by Rogond and Galador.
This matter did not concern them. They had not lost friends to this
enemy, and they had no doubt been charged with other duties.
Perhaps she would meet Galador again when they both were unfettered
by obligation and could simply be together in peace.

Nelwyn considered the task set before her. While she
did not doubt that she and her cousin were up to crossing the High
Pass in winter, as they had done once before, it would still have
comforted her to have Galador’s strong arms, stout bow, and keen
blade beside her.

Gaelen, who strode beside her, was not thinking of
Rogond, of Galador, or of Wellyn. Her mind was filled with thoughts
of the chase, of seeking and bringing down her prey. She was high
and glad to be away on that road, for it brought her closer to the
realization of her goal: to find and destroy that which brought so
much sorrow. It was with sharpened senses, then, that she perceived
two intruders lurking before them beside the trail. She hissed a
warning to Nelwyn and sprang aside into the understory, fitting her
bow and calling out:

"Show yourselves, trespassers, or die quickly! Elves
of the Woodland command you!"

It was then that Nelwyn beheld the face of Galador
much sooner than she had expected, as he and Rogond stepped out
upon the path where they had been waiting. They were dressed and
provisioned as for a journey, and looked not a little unnerved to
be staring down the shafts of two bright arrows. The Elves knew
them at once and lowered their weapons, looking them up and
down.

"Why are you here, and why are you dressed as
travelers? You are not coming with us," said Gaelen.

Rogond looked hard at her. "So you say, yet that is
our intention. We will not have you face this alone. You will have
to outrun us or kill us to prevent it. Why not just accept our
company and be glad?" Nelwyn did not have time to be polite. "You
will burden us,

Aridan. You cannot go in our footsteps and you know
it. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is."

Rogond, who was used to being underestimated by
Elves, took no offense. "If I am a burden, then may I fall into
Darkness rather than interfere with your progress. But I will
follow you with or without your leave. I do not ask it of you,
anyway. Rogond of the Tuathar goes where he will, as does his
friend Galador. But while we travel with you, we offer our swords
and our aid. Whether you avail yourselves of them is your
choice."

To this, Gaelen had no answer. She stood defiantly
before Rogond, slowly shaking her head. "May you fall into
Darkness, indeed! Fine, Aridan, share our road. But I, for one,
will not wait for you, nor will I turn back to aid you when you
find yourself alone in the freezing wilderness. Don’t count on
Gaelen of the Greatwood to protect you from your own
foolishness!"

So saying, she re-slung her bow and nodded to Nelwyn,
who sprang forward with her as the two of them bolted down the
trail and out of sight. Rogond and Galador stared at one another
for a moment, unsure of how to react.

"Come on! They mean to outrun us, and I expect they
can do it unless something delays them. We must fly!" Galador
yelled. They sprinted down the trail in the dark, each hoping that
either Gaelen or Nelwyn would relent, for that was probably the
only way they would be caught ‘ere they reached the foothills of
the Monadh-hin.

Galador growled at Rogond between breaths as he ran.
"You had to… suggest they outrun us. You couldn’t just leave it…
that they had to kill us. No. You had to… give them the idea… to
outrun us." Rogond was amused, though he, too, was regretting his
statement. "Just be thankful… my friend… that killing us… wasn’t
presented… as their only option. I am not… so certain that I… at
any rate… would be drawing breath right now."

At this Galador chuckled, though he could ill afford
it. They would be running for days if he were any judge of the
Wood-elves’ plan. And Nelwyn and Gaelen knew the forest, whereas
they did not. On and on they ran, seeing nothing but the trail
ahead, hearing nothing but their own footfalls and their own
breathing, until a sudden arrow shot straight before Galador’s face
and lodged, quivering, in a tree-trunk. Tied to it there was a
scrap of parchment, which they warily removed after recognizing the
arrow as one of Nelwyn’s.

It was difficult for Rogond to read in the dark, but
Galador had less difficulty.

"You are off the trail. If you continue your course,
you will run straight into a rather dreadful bog. We suggest that
you turn back now, or if you will not, at least move due north
until you find us. We will wait yet awhile."

Rogond looked over at Galador and shook his head.
"Well, come on, then. Let’s try to salvage what’s left of our
self-respect."

They had nearly caught their breath and stopped
blaming each other for going off course when they found Gaelen and
Nelwyn at last. The She-elves were relaxing in the shelter of a
ring of stones in one of the clearings maintained for their own use
when traveling the forest.

Nelwyn rose to greet them, saying, "Well-met, both of
you. We have decided not to leave you helpless in the forest, for
it is not our wish that you die by our hands, even indirectly. But
we would counsel you to turn back, for we will not return for you
again. What is your decision?"

Rogond was beginning to lose his good humor at this
point. "Our thanks that you would save us from sinking into the
mire, O Generous Ones, but since you’re in such a hurry I’d suggest
wasting no more time in debate. We did not set upon this path
lightly, and we have no intention of turning back. I, for one, will
be grateful if we do not have to run all the way to the Sanctuary.
You must at least give me time to shave the beard from my face, or
it will grow so long that I will be unable to run without treading
on it."

To this, Gaelen replied: "Do not fear, Tuathan, for
the mountains are infested with all manner of nasty, disgusting
creatures…even in the chill of winter they are more than happy to
relieve you of that burden by severing your head from your neck.
Shaving your beard will be the least of your troubles before we are
through."

"So be it, then," said Rogond.

Gaelen shook her head, her thoughts conflicted.
Rogond was certainly courageous, strong, and fairly fleet-footed.
But the crossing would tax him, and he would fall behind. When that
happened would she be true to her word and leave him? The answer to
that, she supposed, depended on the circumstances. If it meant
failing in her task, turning back, or risking Nelwyn, Rogond might
well be left behind. He and Galador would find their own way out of
their difficulties. Still, she had grown quite fond of him, and in
her own way she admired all that he had accomplished in the very
short span of years that he had been alive. Rogond was not looking
for answers from her, and he meant to go with her, whatever
happened. Might as well make the best of it.

"Well, are you rested? We’re ready to move on. If you
are ready to go with us, come on, then."

Nelwyn looked surprised at this, and her eyes widened
at Gaelen, but she said nothing. Galador gave a slight bow,
indicating his readiness to proceed, and Rogond nodded as well.

"Let’s make time while we still know the trail well.
Things will become difficult soon enough," said Gaelen, turning and
running lightly ahead with Nelwyn close behind. Rogond and Galador
followed, keeping up easily with the more moderate, efficient pace
set to eat up the distance between them and the mountains. As they
ran, Galador reflected on the wisdom of their decision. They still
had the river crossing and the mountains themselves, which he had
never attempted at this time of year. But at least if he had to die
a frozen death in the High Pass he would die beside Nelwyn, and
that chased all further doubts from his mind.

The stable-hands were greeted with loud whinnying the
next morning when they discovered that Eros and/or Réalta had
demolished their stalls during the night. They were dismayed to
find Eros, who had up to then been quite tractable, kicking
unceasingly at the one barrier that still confined him, while
Réalta circled his stall, pawing in the deep straw of the floor.
Both horses were damp and steaming from the effort. At first the
stable-hands wondered whether they were ill, and they summoned the
Master of Horse, a wise and venerable Elf named Capellion. He
observed them for a few minutes, concluding that they were not ill,
but distressed at their confinement. They should probably be turned
out to run free with companions in the wide grasslands east of the
forest, but as neither animal belonged to the Elves, Capellion
could not make that decision. Eros and Réalta were caught,
haltered, and tied between two pillars while one of the
stable-hands went to seek the strangers, to ask if they might allow
the horses to be turned out.

When he returned, he brought news that not only could
he not find either Rogond or Galador, but that their gear was gone
as well. In the meantime, the message left by Rogond had been
found, and as Capellion read it, he sighed and shook his head.
Here, then, was the explanation. He looked at Eros, who was
literally bouncing up and down off his front feet, tethered as he
was between the pillars, shaking his long, dark forelock with
frustration. Réalta was in no better mood, shifting his weight
alternately between his forelegs with an occasional lash of his
tail. It was odd that no one had told Capellion the strangers were
departing and leaving their horses behind.

Just as the horse-master was trying to decide what to
do, King Ri-Aruin appeared, dressed for the hunt along with several
of his courtiers. He noticed the two restive horses tethered
between the pillars.

"What animals are these, and why are they tethered
thus?" he asked.

Capellion bowed. "They belong to the newcomers…the
Aridan and the Elf. They are tethered because they have been trying
to break out of the stables since early morning—I would guess
because of this." He showed Rogond’s message to the King, who read
it quickly, his face darkening.

"I see," he said. So, Rogond and Galador had managed
to find out about the departure of Gaelen and Nelwyn and had no
doubt followed after them. That was why the horses had been left
behind; they could not make the mountain crossing in winter.

Ri-Aruin turned quickly to his trusted horse-master.
"Who else knows of this?"

"Only the stable-hands, my lord. I will summon them
so that we may inquire of them."

The stable hands reported that they had not told
anyone of the message. They had asked after the strangers and been
directed to their chamber, but that was all. Ri-Aruin turned to the
three of them. "Say nothing of this to anyone, especially my son.
He is not to know that the strangers have left. This is of utmost
importance! Do you understand?" They nodded and bowed before
him.

"Keep these two animals in confinement until I
return, and keep them as well as you may," said the King. "But do
not allow Wellyn to view them, as he will ask too many questions.
For now, help us to get on our way. This outing must now last
longer than I had originally intended."

They rushed to attend to the King’s wishes, carrying
equipment and provisions to the eastern courtyard that faced the
wide grasslands. Ri-Aruin could see Wellyn, mounted on his own
horse with neither bridle nor saddle, calling and whistling to the
other horses that followed behind him with their tails in the air,
eager to be away. They trotted into the courtyard where they were
caught and tacked up, for while the Elves did not need gear to ride
or control their mounts, they often used it when hunting, as one
needed places to secure things. Besides, Ri-Aruin nearly always
went out in relative splendor, which was enhanced by the ornate
intricacy of his beautiful equipment.