Elfhunter (49 page)

"This is a tale that must wait until she is stronger.
Gorgon nearly killed her—he thought he had done so. When we are
rested and recovered we will tell of our journey. For now, let us
hear of your adventures! Perhaps Fima would like to join us, and
I’m sure the dwarves would enjoy the telling as well."

They rose and made their way to the firelight, where
introductions were made. The sentinel Elves, who had waited nearby
at Galador’s request, were invited to join the circle as the
telling of the mountain crossing began. Rogond shook his head in
exasperated sympathy as Galador described the mischievous and
somewhat reckless behavior of his favorite mount.

"Eros, Eros. You impossible animal. Wait until I get
my hands on him! I’ll threaten him with sale to the Elves of
Greatwood."

Galador drew back in mock dismay. "Ha! As if they
would have him. I’ll wager the King is not having kind thoughts of
him right now. Thorndil tells me that there was some difficulty
between Ri-Aruin and his son, Wellyn, over the reappearance of
Eros. I didn’t really understand it, but perhaps he’ll be kind
enough to explain."

Gaelen was puzzled. "Why would Wellyn care about
Eros?"

Thorndil shrugged. "I don’t know, Gaelen. But I do
know that he very much wished to cross the mountains into
Mountain-home with us. He seemed quite set on it, and his father
would not allow it under any circumstances. When we left, they were
both decidedly unhappy."

Gaelen wished, for a moment, that she could make her
way home to set things right. She worried about Wellyn and missed
him. But she could not turn from the task at hand—she would enlist
the aid of Arialde and Airan in the pursuit and defeat of Gorgon.
She hoped that she would be able to adequately describe his vile
ferocity—the more avenging feet she could set upon his trail, the
better. After that, she didn’t know where the task would lead
her.

Gorgon Elfhunter sat brooding in his temporary lair
in a small cavern under the foothills of the western Monadh-hin. He
was generally pleased with the outcome of his foray into
Cós-domhain, for it would be a long while before Gaelen or Rogond
would step again into the realm of Grundin. This had been Gorgon’s
aim, as Gaelen was fairly well protected in the dwarf-realm, and he
would learn little of use from her so long as she was there. His
purpose would be much better served once she got into Tal-sithian,
or such was his belief.

He had used the mirror twice since leaving the bodies
for the dwarves to find and had witnessed the meeting with Grundin,
rejoicing as Gaelen declared her desire to leave immediately to
spare the dwarves further harm. She was so disgustingly noble and
therefore predictable. Gorgon considered it a major weakness, one
to which he certainly would not fall prey.

There was a current of cool air drifting through the
passageway that led into his cavern, and he removed his helmet,
allowing it to lift the silken gold of his hair. It was really
quite curious. Not in recent memory had he enjoyed such simple
pleasures as the wind in his hair; always he had been content to
lurk in the darkness, alone with his hatred, neither feeling nor
considering any discomfort. Could his exposure to Gaelen’s world
have anything to do with his renewed interest in such things? If
so, he must guard himself carefully. The desire to live in harmony
with the world and seek the company of others was definitely
counter to his purposes—a weakness of the highest order. He
concentrated for a moment on the image of the Shadowmancer hovering
in the flames. He drew strength and resolve from the presence of
Wrothgar and at the same time felt a gnawing fear deep within, for
he knew that much was expected of him.

Gorgon had known Wrothgar very well indeed upon a
time, and had learned not to disappoint him. The Shadowmancer had
played a large role in educating Gorgon and had molded much of his
thinking, though in the end he could neither rule Gorgon’s thoughts
nor dominate his actions.

As though to prove to himself the mastery of the
mirror, Gorgon opened the cover and gazed into it. He saw a fire
burning by a flowing stream, and the dwarves camped for the night.
Tomorrow the Company would enter Tal-sithian, and Gorgon would
eagerly await the insights that would follow. He had never beheld
the Lake-realm, nor the Lord and Lady, but perhaps he would now
learn the secret way in past the well-guarded shores. If not, he
could certainly lie in wait for any that he knew were venturing
forth outside them. He realized for a moment that he was trembling
at the prospect, and then renewed his concentration by focusing on
the face of the tall Elf whose name, apparently, was Galador.
Gaelen was speaking to him in the firelight, where she was
attempting to warm herself. Gorgon noticed that she was shivering
as she looked into Galador’s eyes.

"My brother, I will never doubt you again. Had Nelwyn
gone beneath the Mountains with us, I know she would have been
lost."

Gorgon smiled at this.
Too right, she would
have
.

The She-elf apparently took notice of the pain in
Galador’s face, and knew that she had spoken true. "We must now
reassure Rogond, for he learned little in Cós-domhain, and now
feels the weight of Belegund’s death," she said. "Though we did not
know the Dark Horror had somehow tracked us beneath the mountains,
it was our choice to go there despite your warning. Rogond thus
feels responsible."

Gorgon actually chuckled then. "Dark Horror" indeed!
Gorgon was flattered. The Tuathan needn’t have regretted his
choice—Cós- domhain had little to do with Belegund’s death. Gorgon
would have found the Company and set upon at least one of them by
now regardless of their path. He might not have chosen Belegund,
for he was more interested in the other She-elf and possibly the
tall Elf, neither of whom had been within his grasp as yet. He
meant to remedy that problem in the near future.

He shuddered and snapped the mirror-cover closed as
Gaelen embraced Galador, who whispered soft words of comfort and
reassurance. Gorgon truly wished these emotional Elves would cease
their nearly endless displays of sentiment, as he was uncomfortable
with them. Gorgon had never experienced a simple embrace and had
heard precious few kindly words in his lifetime. The one person who
had cared for him long ago he had slain at the bidding of Wrothgar,
and it was just as well. Sentiment was a weakness that he could ill
afford, and now there was little chance of his ever allowing
himself to experience it.

Rogond had never before seen the wonders of
Tal-sithian, and when he first beheld it he could not speak for
several minutes. Though he had seen some of the most beautiful
places in Alterra, including Mountain-home, he had spent much of
his recent life in the wild, and the beauty of that fair green isle
surrounded by crystal-blue water took his breath away. Gaelen had
been here before, but not when the wood was flowering; she was
likewise awed by the majestic elegance of the trees and the
intoxicating scent of the blossoms. With each step she took she
felt her spirits rising. Though she could not remain long in this
place, Gaelen hoped that the Company would be renewed by the time
they moved on toward the Greatwood.

A sudden chill came over Gaelen, and she shivered a
little. This was becoming a common occurrence, and she wondered
what the cause could be. She knew that contact with Gorgon often
chilled her thus, but he was far away, and she had not had a scent
of him since cleansing herself in the waters by the lake.

Nelwyn had stayed by her side, as though she could
sense that all was not well with her cousin. She had wept at the
sight of the dark marks on Gaelen’s neck, imagining the look of
smug satisfaction on Gorgon’s ugly face as he choked the life from
her. It was nothing short of miraculous that he had not succeeded.
Now she met Gaelen at the base of the Greenwood Hill, for they had
been summoned. They ascended to the chambers of Arialde and Airan,
their faces set and determined. It would now be up to Gaelen to
communicate the horrible events she had witnessed in Cós-domhain
and to try to enlist the aid of the Elves of the Lake-realm.

When they stood at last before the Lord and Lady,
Gaelen stepped forward and started to speak, but Arialde held up
her hand to silence her. She closed her eyes for a moment, then
opened them, searching Gaelen’s bright, unflinching gaze. The
smaller Elf lifted her chin in defiance, but her expression
softened as Arialde’s voice was heard inside her mind:

Proud Elf of the Greatwood, soften thy grieving
heart. I know why you have come to us, and I know of your pain and
sorrow. You lie under a dark doom, Gaelen Taldin of the Cúinar,
whose heart was given to One Who Waits. Though I cannot see the
nature of it, I know that greater sorrow and hardship will befall
you before all is ended. Now we must parley, and much will be
revealed both to you and to us. Soften thy heart!

Gaelen nodded, though she did not drop her gaze.
"There is one other who needs to hear your tale," said Arialde,
indicating a tall Elf who stood by, hidden in shadow. He approached
and stood behind the Lady. Gaelen thought he looked vaguely
familiar. He was golden- haired, with keen blue eyes and a handsome
but weary face that had seen much sorrow and trial. Lord Airan
introduced him as "Amandir", and he bowed slightly to Gaelen, who
returned the polite gesture before beginning her tale. Their
discourse lasted into the evening, as Arialde, Airan, and Amandir
had many questions.

"Why do you think Gorgon failed to achieve your death
in Cós- domhain, Gaelen?" asked Arialde. This apparently troubled
her, as she could not imagine the creature failing in such an
important task.

Gaelen shook her head. "I don’t know. I suppose I
shall never know, but I do know this: he will regret his lack of
thoroughness before all is ended. I mean to bring him down with the
help of the Elves of Mountain-home and of the Greatwood. I am
hopeful of your aid as well."

The Lady drew a deep breath, and Amandir dropped his
gaze, refusing to look at Gaelen for several minutes. It seemed
that he struggled with some deep pain that he could not reveal, and
Gaelen was diverted for a long moment as she regarded him
curiously.

"Look at me, Elf of the Greatwood!" Lord Airan’s
voice brought her back sharply to the matter at hand. "This
creature is more closely tied to the Elves of Tal-sithian than to
any others. Listen, now, to our tale of woe."

When Airan had finished, Gaelen and Nelwyn both stood
in horror at what he had revealed. Nelwyn was the first to speak.
"You cannot mean that creature is…of Elven blood?"

Arialde nodded. "Alas, he is Half-elven, the
ill-gotten son of my handmaiden, the spouse of Amandir. Her name
was Brinneal, and she was both beautiful and strong, a proud maiden
of the Èolar. She was a survivor of the Second Uprising and chose
to come here to the Lake rather than remain with the others in
Mountain-home. Alas that she chose such! Her death was both tragic
and welcomed, but the spawn of Darkness persists. I cannot imagine
the evil nurturing and shaping he has received. We had hoped that
the child had died, or been lost, but now we know that it was not
so. Your story has confirmed it. We have wondered on occasion, but
now we know it to be true, to our sorrow. This is ill news you
bring, daughter of the Greatwood."

Indeed, Amandir looked as though his heart had been
torn apart as he stood with an expression of blank horror and grief
upon his fair but careworn face. His sorrow was unimaginable even
to Gaelen, who had known deep sorrow in her lifetime. She wanted
nothing more at that moment than to comfort him, but knew that
there were no words or feelings she could express that would be of
any benefit. She simply could not take her gaze from his downcast
eyes, so full of pain. Before Arialde or Lord Airan could stop her,
she approached him, reaching out with a gentle hand, placing it
upon his arm. He drew back from her as though stung, cold fury
burning in his eyes.

"What would you know of it, Elf ? How dare you try to
comfort me, when you cannot even imagine my pain. Keep your
distance!" He turned to the Lord and Lady, saying, "I will not
suffer myself to be in her presence, and I beg your leave to go. I
must inform my son and my daughter that their half-brother has been
found alive at last. I’m sure they await this joyful news even now.
So, if you will pardon me, I will take my leave."

Without a word from either Arialde or Airan, Amandir
turned and strode from their company, nodding to Nelwyn as he
passed. He would not look at Gaelen, who stood shocked and hurt by
his words. Whatever did he mean? What evil? She did not understand.
When he had gone, Arialde sighed and shook her head, her deep blue
eyes filled with grief. Gaelen looked to her, hoping for an
explanation, but none came.

"I cannot explain Amandir’s actions, worthy daughter
of Tarfion. I only know that what he has felt, I have felt also.
Guard yourself well, and perhaps things will be made plain in time.
For now, you must forget Amandir’s harsh words. He is not himself,
and his pain has made him discourteous. Please do not let this
trouble you, but rest and heal yourself, for you are welcome in the
Lake-realm."

Gaelen stared at her. "Forget his words? He
practically accused me of being in league with Gorgon! No one
desires that creature’s death more than I!"

But to this Arialde did not agree. "Were you in the
place of Amandir, you would desire it even more, Gaelen. You know
what it is to love someone deeply to the exclusion of all others.
Imagine the pain he has endured because of this abomination, and
you will forgive him his harsh words."

Gaelen was mollified for the moment, and she and
Nelwyn bowed and turned to leave, but Arialde stayed them. "Amandir
has insisted that when you leave to pursue the creature Gorgon that
he be allowed to accompany you. I have granted this to him."