Elfhunter (5 page)

Nelwyn was not hopeful. "Alas! I have no power or
knowledge to heal such a sickness. It is beyond my experience," she
said.

Gaelen agreed. In the case of a simple wound, they
could have been of aid. Even a festering wound, which the Elves
thankfully did not suffer, they could have dealt with. But this was
a real sickness, of the kind that sometimes devastated whole
populations of men.

Nelwyn needed to rest; she was looking a bit wobbly
as she tried to rise to her feet. Galador laid hold of her
shoulders to steady her, assisting her back to her place by the
fire. He sat with her while she rested and ate the food that he
offered her.

Gaelen drew the blankets back from the shivering man,
recoiling from the stench of sickness that surrounded him.
"
Ehyah
!" she exclaimed, and shook her head. Sometimes it
seemed that mortal men began dying the minute they were born. She
gently probed the man’s neck, feeling large, hard lumps beneath his
skin at the angle of his jaw. He was sweat-soaked and unshaven, and
his face was pale, but she could see that he was a fine
representative of his ancient line. He swallowed painfully, opening
his eyes again—this time it seemed as though he actually perceived
Gaelen for a moment. His brow furrowed and he moaned miserably,
shaking with a sudden chill.

Warming up a basin of water, Gaelen gently cleaned
the sweat and dirt from his face, speaking soothing words to him as
his eyes wandered aimlessly, looking at nothing. They were a
beautiful, calm grey, but right now they were red-rimmed and
over-bright with fever. Gaelen tried to warm him with more
blankets, but it seemed nothing could stop him from shaking.

As his fever burned higher he became delirious,
speaking all manner of languages, including at least two rare Elven
dialects. Gaelen was fascinated despite her concern. She tried to
comfort him, and he would calm in response to her words. Then the
chill would take him again, and he would rave incoherently until it
passed.

Gaelen glanced over at Galador, who was still hoping
that she would think of something to help his stricken friend. She
didn’t blame him for being anxious. With each episode of chills and
delirium,

Rogond grew weaker. Soon he would be too weak to
fight off the sickness, and then he would be lost.

"I must calm you somehow...to help you ride out the
storm of chills and madness. You are like a small ship at the mercy
of very large waves. You need…you need an anchor. I will do all I
can for you, Tuathan, for you are young, and you have a part to
play yet. Now I must hold you to this world."

When the next hard chill came, she drew a deep breath
and lay down beside him, steadying him with her hands and her
voice. When the fever came on him and he raved at unseen enemies,
Gaelen held him down while Nelwyn cooled his brow with clear water.
They spoke soft words to him or shouted at him as needed. At times,
it was more than a bit frightening.

Rogond was not seeing anything but his enemies, and
they were terrifying. At such times he would twist and fight,
grabbing Gaelen’s slender arms so tightly that she cried out in
pain as he tried to push her away. Then Galador would step in, for
he was stronger than Gaelen and could easily hold Rogond down.
Gaelen would sing her songs, and the enemies would draw away,
leaving only peaceful sleep behind them.

Galador looked on in approval. Rogond’s life might
not be in their power to save, but he certainly had a better chance
now. At least someone was doing something. Galador had not known
what to do and had despaired, certain that his friend would die. He
had thought to bring women to help, but knew that they would be
unwilling to expose themselves to the sickness. She-elves were
therefore his next choice, for although they knew no more of
healing pestilence that he did, they still seemed to have unique
instincts. Galador knew, for example, that Gaelen’s idea of
embracing a raving, sweat-soaked, delirious man would never have
occurred to him, but it had certainly made a difference to
Rogond.

By dawn’s light, Gaelen was weary from serving as
Rogond’s anchor through the long night. She had sung songs of great
power, and they had drained her. As she rested, Galador brought her
food and drink, apologized for his initial discourtesy, and thanked
her profusely for her effort.

Gaelen assured him that all was well between them.
She was now hopeful that Rogond would live, but she knew that it
would be awhile before he was strong again. Regardless, she knew
that Galador would have to care for him without her.

"We cannot stay here. You will have to take care of
him yourself as soon as the fever breaks."

Galador’s eyes widened, his dismay obvious. "But...he
will need more than I can give, probably for some time. He is a
worthy man, worth saving! Why must you leave us in our need?"

"We were tracking the creature that brought the boat
ashore. We have been in pursuit for many days, and the trail is
cold enough already. I cannot risk losing it altogether."

"What creature? How came you to be tracking it?"
asked Galador, who could not understand how the pursuit of an enemy
could be more important than saving Rogond.

Gaelen told him the tale, leaving nothing to his
imagination. She described the manner in which her friends were
killed, the encounters with the fishermen, and the hardships she
and Nelwyn had faced since. When she got to the end of the story,
at the point that Nelwyn had been startled into the river,
Galador’s ears reddened and he looked at his hands.

Gaelen smiled at him. "It’s all right. She has
forgiven you already… at least I think she has."

Beside them, Rogond stirred. He opened his eyes,
which looked clearer and more focused than Gaelen had yet seen
them. She knew, though, that the fever would probably rise again
after sunset. Now was a good time to get some food and drink into
him if they could. Rogond needed her now, more than Halrodin did.
She sighed, turning back to Galador.

"I will give you another night. If Nelwyn wishes to
stay beyond it, that will be her choice. I must continue the hunt
or all will be in vain."

Galador still did not understand. "What are you going
to do, all by yourself, if you catch up with your enemy? From what
you have told me, you won’t have a chance. Your friends were
experienced and wary, yet he took them with no effort and there
were two of them." "They were unaware of his existence, and I am
not," she replied simply. In truth, she hoped Nelwyn would choose
to go with her, as tackling the creature by herself had not been in
her plan. "I must speak with my cousin. See what you can do to get
him to take some food and drink. I will return soon."

Gaelen found Nelwyn stroking the neck of one of the
horses— a proud, rough-coated dun animal such as the people of the
north favored. The horse acknowledged Gaelen with a soft whicker of
greeting, earning a friendly pat. After a moment of reluctance, she
put forth her statement with her customary lack of fanfare. "We
dare not leave the pursuit for long."

"If we had Galador and Rogond beside us, we would
have a better chance of defeating the creature," said Nelwyn. "Have
you considered waiting until Rogond is strong, and then asking for
their help?" "The longer we wait, the colder the trail," Gaelen
stated with finality. "Will you go with me, then?"

Nelwyn considered for a moment. She turned back to
the dun horse and resumed stroking it. "I am not certain of the
wisdom of your course, but naturally I will go with you. Do you
think I would leave you to face that…that
thing
by yourself
?"

"I know that the fire of this chase has burned hotter
in me than in you these past days," Gaelen replied.

Nelwyn took a half step back, incredulous. "I have
already told you that I would never abandon you to fight this
alone. You are the person in this world that I care most about, and
you should know it! I won’t ask you to break off the chase and go
against the desire of your heart."

Gaelen sighed. "I know, and I’m glad to hear it. The
only difficulty is that I will not lead you against the desire of
your
heart. I will wait at least one more day. Northmen are
rare in these times, and this one is in need of us. I do feel for
Galador. I...sort of…promised to stay until the fever breaks."
(This last was spoken under her breath.) Nelwyn turned about. "Oh,
you
did
, did you?" She quirked a bemused half-smile at
Gaelen. "You never could resist a challenge

involving the weak and helpless."

Gaelen looked annoyed, but it was obvious that she
had kept her good humor. Rogond would have his anchor for at least
another day. Tomorrow they would decide again whether to stay with
their new allies or rejoin the pursuit of the dark creature that
had so easily and successfully eluded them.

It was three days since they had found the boat by
the river, and the Elves were ready to move on. Nelwyn was packing
up her gear when Galador approached her, bringing provisions from
his own stores. Gaelen had washed their clothing at the riverside
and hung it to dry in the late winter sun and wind. In Nelwyn’s
opinion, Gaelen had used this as an excuse to return to the river
and check the boat for herself, as when she returned she had seemed
preoccupied and ever more eager to get away.

Before she would leave, however, Gaelen made certain
that Rogond was no longer in danger of death. His fever had broken
on the second night, after an exhausting delirium that had taxed
them all as they fought to calm him. At last he had collapsed,
soaked with sweat, and they all feared that he would never move
again, until the dawn came and he stirred at last.

Gaelen had still been with him, singing quietly,
warming and comforting him with her embrace. Hers was the first
face he beheld on awakening, and he later told Galador that it was
her voice that had pulled him back from the madness of his delirium
as he fought with unseen demons. He started taking food the day
after, and it seemed that all would be well provided that he and
Galador could stay safely hidden until he was strong again. Gaelen
and Nelwyn brought fresh meat from the forest, and they had plenty
of good water and dry wood. Galador was reasonably confident that
Rogond would be able to ride in a few days.

Now, as Galador handed Nelwyn the provisions he had
brought, his grey eyes betrayed his disquiet. He didn’t want Nelwyn
to go. He was worried for her, and besides, he would miss both her
company and her help in caring for Rogond. He spoke to her in his
deep, gentle voice while gazing off into the trees.

"Must you leave us now? Why not stay until he is
healed, and then we can go all the more swiftly because of the
horses."

Nelwyn smiled, touched by his offer of aid. "The
horses will not avail us here, Galador. We dare not make too much
speed; we may miss some sign. Gaelen and I can move swiftly enough
and attract less attention on foot. Rogond will not have his full
strength for some time, and it would be unwise for him to leave
your sanctuary until he is fully recovered." Then she added, "I
would very much like to have your help, and your offer is received
with thanks, but I fear that we cannot accept at this time. We have
told you of the enemy we seek. Our only chance to defeat him is to
catch him before the trail grows so cold that we never find it
again."

She cast her eyes toward Gaelen, who was inside with
Rogond. "She will never give up, and I cannot abandon her. And I
also wish to prevent this monster from doing further harm to our
people." She thought of her friend Talrodin and his two sons,
remembering the stench of his charred flesh and the difficulty they
had in prying his brother’s hands from his arm. Her eyes and her
voice grew cold. "I also wish vengeance for my friends."

She looked at Galador, and she could see that he was
troubled. He did not know what he could say to dissuade her, though
he felt an almost desperate urge to do so. "I sense that if you
leave now, without me, it will mean your doom," he said
quietly.

At this Nelwyn sighed and turned away. "Then doom it
must be, for we are leaving."

Gaelen, who had approached without seeing Galador at
first, had overheard this last exchange and now knew that Galador
was trying to delay Nelwyn further.

"Take heart!" she said with false brightness. "We
have tarried here so long that the trail is undoubtedly cold by
now, and the doom you fear will be quite unlikely. Perhaps we’ll
come back when we realize that all efforts of the last fortnight
have been in vain."

Galador bristled at her, as it seemed she would not
take him seriously.