Elfhunter (72 page)

Fima turned and buried his axe in the Ulca’s belly
with a terrible cry, and as he withdrew it, he caught a blur of
motion behind him. He turned and swung his axe with deadly force at
his perceived attacker, only to miss Gaelen by a hair’s breadth as
she leaped back, breathless.

"Ooh! Sorry!" he exclaimed, as she knelt beside
Rogond.

He shook his head, and his eyes focused on her. "I’m
all right," he said thickly.

"Relieved to hear it, but we have another problem,"
said Gaelen as she pulled her head back just in time to avoid a
shaft that passed close enough to ruffle her hair. "The rain has
soaked our brush piles, and they are not burning as brightly as
needed. If we cannot raise the signal to Ri-Aruin, all is
lost!"

Fima and Rogond looked at each other. "If he’s not
already on his way here, I fear we are doomed," said Fima. "But
don’t fear, little Wood-elf, you shall have your signal. Rogond, do
you still have the gift I gave you in Mountain-home?"

Rogond brightened with sudden understanding. "I do
indeed. It is still in my pack, in the council-tent."

"Then let’s make haste," said Fima, and the three of
them made their way there with all speed. Rogond entered as Gaelen
and Fima remained outside to defend him. He emerged moments later,
his light pack slung over his shoulder, carrying the phial of
maglos in his hand. "Remember, now, keep it from the rain until you
are prepared,"

Fima admonished him. "Where will you ignite it?"

Rogond looked around as Gaelen sent two more arrows
into an Ulca that was running toward them, waving its blade and
yelling some incoherent battle-cry. It fell instantly. Rogond
pointed to the northern edge of the rim, which would be highly
visible to Ri-Aruin’s army.

Fima frowned and shook his head. "Let’s get as much
use from this as possible, my friend. Set it off right in the
middle of the plateau. I’ll wager these Ulcas have never seen
anything like it, and will fall back before it. Don’t fear—Ri-Aruin
will see it! Use only about half for this, I think."

Rogond took the maglos from the phial, leaving only
about a third of it behind. He considered his course of action for
a moment. Then, with Gaelen and Fima defending him, he made his way
close enough to the large crowd of Ulcas battling in the center of
the plateau that he could toss the very large and lethal chunk of
maglos onto the wet ground at their feet. He yelled to the
defenders to retreat, running as fast as he could away from the
group of startled Ulcas.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the water
worked through the thin film of oil that covered the soft, white
metal, and the very ground seemed to explode with light. The Ulcas
standing nearest were literally set aflame. The others ran
shrieking, except for those that were unfortunate enough to turn
and stare at the light when it first flared into brilliance. They
wandered blind, heads bursting with pain and eyes streaming. They
soon fell, pierced by the arrows of the Elves.

Had Gaelen known it, Ri-Aruin’s forces were even now
surrounding the hill. They had divided into two groups, one of
about two hundred that would storm the hill and assist the
defenders, and another much larger group that would surround the
entire perimeter, cutting off any chance of escape. They had
arrived in their encampment the night before and had remained
silent and secret, as only Wood-elves at home in the Greatwood can
be, awaiting the signal to attack. Ri-Aruin had used Thorndil’s
glass, the gift of Arialde, and it had proved invaluable in
spotting the weak light of the smoldering signal-fires. As he drew
near to the hill, Ri-Aruin hoped that the small attack force he was
fielding would be able to get to the defenders quickly; the larger
force would require time to surround the enemy and close all gaps
such that none would escape.

When the maglos was ignited, Ri-Aruin and his folk
were amazed, for they had not known of it. Surely, this was yet
another signal from their folk that the battle was underway. The
King hoped that it was no dark device or devilry, as he rushed now
to the aid of his eldest son.

Unfortunately for the Ulcas, this weapon was not of
their making, nor had they ever seen the like of it. They reeled
back in pain and confusion, blinded by the incredible brilliance of
the light, several still bellowing from the burns they had received
from being too close. Gorgon had also looked at the light, but only
for a moment. It was enough to sear his senses with pain and cast
his black heart into a pit of fear. He had not expected this! He
could see nothing for a few moments, then only points of light and
spots of color and darkness, before his vision finally returned. By
then, the flaring maglos had died down, but where it had been there
was a blackened crater in the rocky, wet ground that no one would
go near. He saw the flaming Ulcas, and the blinded ones falling to
the arrows of the Elves, and he was afraid, for he had no force to
answer this weapon.

The balance had shifted. At first the Ulcas had
greatly outnumbered the Elves, who fought well and with valor but
were slowly being overcome. Only about thirty of the defenders
still fought; the rest had been wounded or slain. Nearly two
hundred Ulcas had remained until the lighting of the maglos, but
now the dark host was reduced by nearly one quarter, and Gorgon
despaired as he knew that his chief hope of victory lay in superior
numbers, for the Elves held the superior skill.

But then, Kharsh appeared at Gorgon’s side, and his
ancient yellow eyes were filled with dread. "We have spotted a
force of Elves making their way up the hill, my lord, and they are
dressed for battle. They will be here in a few moments. I fear it
may be time to consider retreating, before they can cut off our
escape."

Gorgon took Kharsh by the neck and shook him. "We
cannot retreat without our prize! You know it. Now, get to work! I
will go for Magra. You and your band take the King. Then, when they
are dead, we shall withdraw."

Amandir stood near the northern slope, surrounded by
defenders. The wind blew his long, wet hair back from his helmeted
face, revealing the fury and frustration in his eyes. He had lived
the last years of his life in the hope of accomplishing a single
purpose, yet he had been denied. When he finally caught sight of
Gorgon standing with his guard on the eastern rim of the hill, he
began to work his way toward him, but the Ulcas were too many, and
they drove him back. Now the Elves dwindled; if Ri-Aruin did not
appear in the next few minutes Gorgon would prevail. Amandir knew
that, whatever else befell, he would not leave the field of battle
until Gorgon was dead. He had saved enough of his strength for
that.

He had taken a small but painful wound to his right
shoulder; it burned incessantly as he swung his blade. He caught
sight of Gaelen, now wielding her short sword, slashing and ducking
as she faced one of the armored Ulcas. The Ulca fell dead with an
arrow in its eye, sent from Nelwyn’s bow, just as Gaelen’s short
sword dealt another fatal blow beneath the left arm. Gaelen had
spent her arrows and had not had time to glean more. One of her
long knives was buried in the throat of an Ulca that now lay under
several of its fellows, but she still had the other. She looked
around, despairing at the number of remaining defenders and
enemies, and then briefly made eye contact with Amandir. They held
their gaze for only a few seconds, but much passed between
them.

You must bring him down. No matter what else
happens, we must work together to bring him down.

I will see it done. Look to the defense of your
friends. I misjudged you—I regret that I did not know you on a
happier time.

Amandir returned to the business of working his way
toward Gorgon, as Gaelen then ran to Rogond and Fima. She did not
take notice of him again until several minutes later, after the
maglos had done its work, when Gorgon finally decided that the Lord
Magra would soon breathe his last.

It was Gorgon’s plan to kill Magra and Ri-Aruin, then
take his tokens and retreat, leaving the remainder of his army to
face the attacking Wood-elves. He must not fail Wrothgar, and he
would not. Amandir felt the presence of Gorgon as he worked his way
near to where he stood with his few comrades, and as the Elf turned
to gaze into the eyes of his mighty foe at last, he knew that the
time had come.

Galador, Nelwyn, and Thorndil stood together, a
formidable force against the enemy. Once drawn, none evaded
Nelwyn’s bow, and if the Ulcas drew close enough to Galador or
Thorndil they would be cut down by keen blades, wielded with skill
that was far beyond them. Yet now all three were weary, and
Thorndil’s blade was notched and growing dull with the constant
engagement of his armored foes.

Wellyn battled nearby under the banner of the
Greatwood, wearing the crown, robes, and armor of Ri-Aruin. Kharsh
made for him, taking two of his most skilled archers, and as they
drew closer, they attacked. Two of Wellyn’s defenders were taken as
he looked around in alarm. Then one of the dark archers shot a
second time, and Wellyn fell. Nelwyn and Gaelen both beheld him as
he was thrown back to hit the wet ground hard, a black shaft
protruding from the breastplate of Ri-Aruin’s armor. The curved,
dark bows of the Ulcas held great power at close range, and the
Wood-elves preferred lightweight armor or none at all, for it
allowed them to remain swift and agile.

Gaelen and Nelwyn were both at his side in a matter
of moments, along with Galador and Thorndil. They dragged Wellyn
into the council-tent. He was still aware, but the impact had taken
much of his strength. Galador struggled to remove the armor; Wellyn
gave a strangled cry of agony as the breastplate came away, for the
shaft came with it.

Kharsh was still under orders to return with the head
of "Ri- Aruin", and he now stormed the council-tent with a
considerable force behind him. Galador threw the large
council-table over, using it to shield Wellyn, Nelwyn, and himself.
Thorndil followed his example, crouching with Gaelen behind one of
the smaller tables.

The Ulcas found the task of storming the tent more
difficult than they had expected. Still, there was little the
Company could do against such numbers, and they all realized that
their lives would end here. Gaelen had thrown her second dagger,
felling her foe, but she had no arrows, and the Ulcas were too many
to engage with a blade. Nelwyn sent forth her last shaft, as did
Galador, and their enemies closed in around them.

Wellyn turned toward Nelwyn, grimacing as he drew the
shaft of the black arrow from the breastplate of his father’s
armor. He was pale, and his strength was doubtful, but his eyes
were clear as he handed it to her. He would heal if tended to, but
it would not matter, for Kharsh and his company would be certain to
kill them all in a few moments. Wellyn handed the arrow to
Nelwyn.

"Send it back to them. Send it from me," he
whispered, and closed his eyes.

Gaelen did not know the extent of Wellyn’s hurt, and
she despaired, for they had been fast friends for nearly all of his
life and for much of hers. She knew that she could escape the tent
by simply rolling beneath the silken wall, but she could not leave
her friends. She would not be able to aid in bringing down Gorgon;
she would have to rely on Amandir, Rogond, and Fima. She smiled for
a brief moment as she prepared to make her stand, for she had
noticed that she could now be at least partly aware of Gorgon’s
mood whether he held the mirror or not, and she was now sensing his
desperation.

She turned to Thorndil. "I will not fall like a
cornered animal, Aridan. Will you stand with me?"

Thorndil looked into her bright eyes and nodded.
Gaelen gave a cry and charged from her concealment with Thorndil
beside her. They rallied around Wellyn, defending him to the last,
Nelwyn releasing the black arrow still stained with his blood.
Then, as all seemed hopeless, the Ulcas began to fall forward,
taken by the sword of Rogond, the axe of Fima, and the bow of
Oriana of Eádros.

Oriana had observed the wounding of Wellyn from her
place among the rocks, fighting alongside the Elves of Tal-sithian,
who had rallied to Oryan. She saw Galador and Nelwyn drag Wellyn
into the tent, along with Thorndil and Gaelen, pursued by an
impossibly large host of Ulcas led by Kharsh. She knew they would
never survive without help, and she despaired, for her comrades
were otherwise engaged and could not aid the Company. Then she
heard the voice of Rogond through the melee:

"Gaelen! Gaelen! To me!
To me!
"

Oriana knew then that Rogond and Fima would serve,
and she left her place of relative safety, making for the Aridan
and the dwarf. Fima was holding up admirably for one of his age,
considering he had spent the last fifty years in Mountain-home and
had seen little of battle. He was hard as iron, but he was growing
weary. Rogond was near panic, for he could not see Gaelen and
feared that she had fallen.

Oriana ran up to them, breathless. "I know where your
Gaelen is, and she is in dire need, as is your friend Galador.
Follow me, and bring all the skills you have!"

As they drew nigh the tent, Rogond and Fima looked
with dismay upon the large crowd of Ulcas besieging it. They prayed
that their friends were not yet slain as they charged forward.

Amandir stood at last before Gorgon, alone upon the
rim of the hill. He had led the creature away from the battle, for
he knew that Gorgon sought to kill him, in the belief that he was
Lord Magra of Mountain-home. His companions had remained behind at
his order—this was between Gorgon and himself. Gorgon knew that
Magra was a mighty foe. Wrothgar had warned him of it, yet he had
seen little evidence of power beyond that of a skilled Elven
warrior. That, he could deal with. He faced Amandir with
confidence, for he was yet strong, and he perceived that his foe,
having spent much of his strength already in the conflict, was
flagging and would fall quickly. "So, the Mighty Lord Magra stands
before me, preparing his defense. I had expected more from you,
Èolo. Yet it has been so with all your folk that have fallen before
me. Only too easy," he taunted. "Prepare yourself, for I will have
your head as tribute to the Dark Power. You are vanquished. Why not
make your passing easier?"