Elfhunter (48 page)

Now Arialde greeted her guests warmly, but with
concern in her eyes. She maintained a close relationship with Lady
Ordath, who was in fact her close kin, and they could share
thoughts when they wished. Therefore, she knew why Nelwyn and
Galador had come. She bade them tell their tale, and it was Nelwyn
who stepped forward. She told what she knew of Gorgon and of her
travels since leaving the Woodland in pursuit of him. She and
Gaelen had probably traveled farther in less time and seen more of
Alterra than any two Wood-elves in reckoning. When she came to the
point at which the Company had been divided, she faltered and then
fell silent.

Arialde looked at her with understanding. "I know why
your tale falters. You are right to be concerned for your
companions. I have seen great difficulties beneath the
mountain."

Nelwyn’s heart sank. She and Galador had both known
that it would be so, though they had hoped otherwise. Arialde
turned then to Airan.

"We must summon Amandir. This concerns him
closely."

Airan shook his head. "Perhaps that should wait until
the others arrive. We need to hear all that will be told before
involving Amandir, as this will grieve him, and we must make
certain that we have learned all that we may."

"There will be little to learn that has not yet been
told, as I am already reasonably certain of the origins of this
enemy," said Arialde. "Yet we cannot act until the others arrive,
so I see no harm in waiting."

Nelwyn became agitated. "Do you mean to say that you
know the nature of this creature that has so afflicted our people?
I beg you to enlighten us!"

Arialde regarded her with an expression of deep
melancholy. "Be careful what you wish for, daughter of the
Greatwood. You may regret the knowledge once you have been given
it. This is truly a tale of woe." She rose then and bade her guests
refresh themselves with food and drink, as she and Airan wanted to
speak in private.

But Nelwyn was not easily dismissed. "You have said
that you have foreseen difficulties for my friends. I wish to
return to the mountain and find them, and aid them if I may. I beg
your leave to do this," she said, to Galador’s dismay.

Arialde closed her eyes for a moment. "They are
already on their way here." She looked into Nelwyn’s eyes. "There
are but three. A company of dwarves leads them. I am sorry,
Nelwyn."

"But, my lady…of course there are only three. One of
our companions is a dwarf, and was destined to remain in
Cós-domhain. So, all is well."

"All is not well. Fima, the Lore-master of Ordath,
travels with them. There is also an Elf, and a man. One remains
forever entombed within the stone. I cannot tell more as yet."

The color drained from Nelwyn’s face as Galador
steadied her. He bowed his head before Arialde as both he and
Nelwyn placed their right hands upon their hearts in a gesture of
grief. Either Rogond or Belegund lay dead beneath the mountain just
as Galador had foreseen. He felt the blood rise in his face as he
stepped forward, addressing Arialde and Lord Airan.

"In that case, I wish to beg your leave to go to my
friends, to see whether I may aid them. One of the men of the
Company is a close friend, and I fear for him. If it please you,
may I return to them?"

Arialde nodded. "Your friends will approach the
lakeshore by the rising of the moon. There, they will rest, for one
is in need of healing." She looked at Nelwyn, who was now even more
distressed. "You will go with Galador?"

Nelwyn bowed her head, then met Arialde’s gaze. She
nodded once, her face pale, as Galador spoke again to Arialde. "My
lady… can you not tell me any more of the man who still walks with
our companions? Can you not describe him to us so that we may know
which of our friends lies dead? Rogond is very tall—taller than I
am, with dark hair and clothing."

Arialde nodded. "That is a fair description, but was
not your other friend of similar form and coloring?" Galador
dropped his eyes, for Arialde was right. Belegund and Rogond were
quite similar save that Belegund was a bit more broadly made.

"Does he carry a spear?" asked Nelwyn, who was very
fond of Rogond and was nearly as anxious as Galador.

Arialde considered for a moment. "I do not know. You
will learn the truth soon enough. Our folk will guide you."

Airan had summoned an Elf who would conduct them back
across the waters. Arialde addressed the guide as he stood before
her. "There is an old dwarf with the Company—Fima is his name. He
is the Lore-master of Monadh-talam and is welcome here. No other
dwarf may enter. Please see our guests safely back to their
friends, and take food and healing herbs to aid them. Return as
quickly as you may."

The Elf bowed low, his right hand over his breast.
Then Nelwyn and Galador took their leave, with many thanks to
Arialde. They told Thorndil what they had learned, and the news
grieved him sorely. Both Rogond and Belegund were dear comrades,
and as Thorndil gathered his belongings, preparing to accompany
Galador and Nelwyn, his lined face was grim and sad.

"This is indeed cruel news," he said. "There are so
few of my people left that the loss of any is especially hard to
bear. I fear the blood of Tuathas will one day disappear from the
kindred of men. Belegund and Rogond were still young, and neither
had taken a wife or left an heir. They were both worthy defenders
and friends."

Nelwyn shivered as she gathered her gear. She could
understand Thorndil’s despair, and she feared for Rogond; in
addition, Arialde had said that one of the Company was in need of
healing. Perhaps Gaelen had been hurt! She wished more than
anything at that moment that the four of them had not left the
Greatwood, but had remained there until the spring had clothed the
beech woods in new green leaves. She longed for the relative peace
and comfort of her beautiful woodland home and for the company of
her friends and kin. Not so far away, her cousin Gaelen would have
stood in agreement.

As evening fell, Rogond first beheld the fair waters
of the Linnefionn. There was a clear, cold stream that flowed into
it from the mountains, and the dwarves decided to camp beside it
that they all might be refreshed. Gaelen and Rogond were weary and
heartsick from their experience, and they were pleased to rest
beside the flowing waters.

Gaelen made her way carefully upstream until she was
concealed from the eyes of the dwarves, who sat together eating and
drinking and in general making a great deal of noise. She removed
most of her clothing with some difficulty, for she was badly
bruised and still could not move her head upon her neck, and then
lowered herself gingerly into the invigorating waters, gasping a
little as they washed over her.

Almost immediately her pain eased as she lay back,
letting the water flow around her throat, her eyes closed. The
stench of Gorgon was washed away, and at least a part of her spirit
was renewed. She heard Rogond calling to her, but she could not
answer, as her voice had not yet returned.

Taking small sips of the healing waters, she let them
soothe her throat, hoping for improvement. She was rewarded; her
pain was lessened and she drew breath more easily. When she next
tried to speak, her voice, though strained and hoarse, could at
last be heard. She looked up and saw Rogond approaching, smiling as
he drew nigh her. His expression was relieved as he waded in to
stand beside her, taking the hand that she offered him.

"Are you all right, Gaelen? Please do not wander off
so; Fima and I were afraid for you. Does the water ease your
pain?"

Gaelen was pleased to note that she could now nod her
head with much less discomfort. "I am sorry for worrying you; I did
not wish to call attention to myself, and if you don’t mind I will
remain here yet awhile." Then, she looked up at him. "Will you stay
nearby and aid me? I do not know if I can rise easily by
myself."

Rogond nodded, pleased that she could now be heard.
"Of course I will. First I will go back and get us some food and
drink. Then, when you are ready, I will aid you in rising from the
water." He turned to go, and as he mounted the stream bank Gaelen
called to him once more.

"Umm…Rogond?"

Rogond turned back to her, smiling slightly at her
use of his name. "Yes?"

She looked sidelong at him, blushing. "Ah…when you
get back, could you do that…that thing with my ears again?"
Rogond’s smile grew broader. At that moment, he could not think of
any duty that he would rather perform.

"I shall be delighted to do this for you, O
Dwarf-friend of Grundin. I will return soon." So saying, he strode
off into the gathering dark, noticing that the stars were emerging
in the heavens, feeling that in spite of his recent disappointment
and grief there was much that was still right with the world.

Nelwyn, Galador, and Thorndil reached their friends
hours later, as the stars burned bright. They crept in so as not to
arouse the dwarves, who had insisted on remaining where they were
until dawn. They did not wish to approach the mists of the Lake in
darkness.

Fima knew that the dwarves were less at ease as they
drew nearer to the Elven-realm. In those days there was still some
communication between Grundin’s folk and the Elves of Tal-sithian,
but it was rare. Strange tales abounded on both sides. Save for the
Èolar, who were most like-minded to themselves, the dwarves found
Elves to be thoroughly mysterious and puzzling creatures that were
not to be trusted. Likewise the Elves viewed Grundin’s folk as
strange, stunted, and unattractive, with little to offer them save
skill at craft. Out of such poor understanding comes disquiet, and
both races had, over the long years, fabricated tales with only the
barest truth to them. Regrettably, there were now few of the Èolar
remaining to set things right.

Although both the Lake-realm and the Deep-caverns had
been founded long before, the Elves had few dealings with the folk
of Grundin. Likewise the dwarves of Cós-domhain had largely kept
out of Elvish affairs for thousands of years and wished it to
remain so. Only when their lands were directly threatened would the
dwarves join the Elves in battle, and at those times they were
counted as fierce allies. Yet their participation and their losses
were minor compared with those of Elves and men.

In order to truly understand the enmity between the
dwarves and most especially the Elves of the Eádram, one needed to
know of the War of Betrayal, in which the dwarves of Rûmm laid
siege to and finally overcame the Elven-realm of Eádros. Because
the Elves of Tal-sithian were, for the most part, of the Eádram,
dwarves were not welcome there, with few exceptions. Fima, who was
known to both Lady Arialde and to Lord Airan, and stood high in the
favor of Lady Ordath, would be admitted without question.

Galador, Nelwyn, and Thorndil crept silently toward
the group of dwarves, but did not see Rogond or Gaelen among them.
They quickly spotted Fima, who was sitting near the firelight,
apparently lost in thought. Fima raised his head for a moment and
gazed off in the direction of the flowing stream and a small copse
of trees; Nelwyn guessed that she would find her friends there. She
and Galador approached the little grove to observe Gaelen lying on
her back with Rogond half-reclining beside her.

Though they were saddened at the apparent loss of
Belegund, Galador and Nelwyn both sighed with relief at the sight
of Rogond apparently ministering aid to Gaelen, who must have been
the one in need of healing. Nelwyn gave a call that Gaelen would
know at once; they had used it in the Greatwood forever and it was
distinctive.

Rogond looked up and turned his gaze toward them, but
Gaelen did not move. Nelwyn panicked then and rose to her feet,
calling Gaelen’s name, as Rogond held up a hand in greeting. Gaelen
had not responded as she had been in a half-stupor caused by
Rogond’s

attentions to her right ear. She had nearly fallen
asleep, as the waters had taken her pain away such that she could
finally relax. She could speak, but not yet well; her voice sounded
hoarse and rasping, and she preferred to whisper. The moment she
laid eyes on Nelwyn, the tears started in them.

Nelwyn embraced Rogond with relief, as did Thorndil
and finally Galador, though his embrace was somewhat stiff, as
though he was unaccustomed to such intimacy. When Galador pulled
back, his face was grave.

"I am truly sorry about Belegund. I hope he died
well, and trust that he now walks in the Light of Aontar," he said.
Thorndil nodded in agreement.

Rogond’s eyes were wide. "How came you to know of
Belegund?" He asked in wonder.

"Arialde had seen only one man emerging from the
under the mountain. We did not know which of you still lay beneath
it," said Galador.

"I would know the details of Belegund’s fate, for he
was a great friend and comrade," said Thorndil. "I trust his
remains were properly tended?"

Rogond nodded. By the decree of Grundin, Belegund was
laid to rest with great honor, and his remains would be forever
undisturbed. This death had been hard for Rogond, and his eyes were
downcast. He recalled the calm, young face of Belegund as the
dwarves placed the stone over him. He looked as though he had
fallen asleep, his cares gone and his soul at peace. Gaelen had
wept bitterly, though it pained her, and she had turned from Rogond
when he tried to comfort her. He had understood her reaction, as he
knew she blamed herself for not being able to save Belegund, and
thus would not allow herself to be comforted.

Now she sat up, determined to face Thorndil and tell
what she could of Belegund’s ending. "He fell in single combat with
Gorgon. Though his pain was great, he died well, but I fear
needlessly. I failed to aid him when the time came...though I
tried. I must now add Belegund to those I mean to avenge. He had no
chance against Gorgon, yet held him off for several minutes…" She
began to weep at the memory, and this time she allowed Rogond to
comfort her. He took her in his arms and spoke quietly to his
friends.