Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (68 page)

‘Come!’ Elder Anderlorn directed with some irritation.

A steward entered, bowed and having walked some appropriate number of paces into the hall, stopped and spoke.

‘Elders, there is a stranger at the gate to the Elderplas. He insists on coming before you immediately. He claims to have some new knowledge of some prophecy. I could not dissuade him and indeed he was most persuasive that you would both wish to speak with him.’ The man stood waiting for directions.

‘This stranger has a name steward?’ The Eldres spoke sharply.

‘He would not give his name Eldres although I demanded it twice. He said that this ring would be enough.’ The steward held out a hand and on opening his palm revealed a small but finely wrought gold ring.

‘Bring it here steward and let us see this trinket.’ Elder Anderlorn seemed to have lost patience with the games of this one who had interrupted a meeting of the gravest importance. The steward brought the ring and gave it to the Elder. He gazed upon it for the merest moment before a strange look came over his face. Immediately he took off the finely crafted golden band which sat upon his head, and compared it to the ring.

‘Eldres this is extraordinary!’ Anderlorn cried in shock. ‘These are the same. This ring is but a small version of these bands we wear and which were gifted to the
Edenwhood
by....’ He stopped for it seemed then that he suddenly understood that the one who stood waiting at the gate was no passing trouble maker, but one of the greatest importance.

‘Steward, to the gate this instant and bring this man with a welcome from the Elders of AlGiron. Quickly man, for this is beyond all expectation. Run!’ And so the steward left in great haste whilst all those in the hall sat stunned by Elder Anderlorn’s outburst of emotion.

‘These bands were gifted to the
Edenwhood
at the time of the Great Separation,’ he continued in awe, ‘when the Gates were hewn by the Mountain Dwarves and the magic to open them sealed into the rock; when the keys were forged and the right and power to make them was allowed us. One was present then who was far older and wiser than the Dwarves, one who came from a place beyond the understanding of men and dwarves...’ He sat looking at the ring, whilst Eldres Kreilliorn turned pale.

‘It cannot be,’ she whispered.

‘It must be,’ Anderlorn replied, ‘For do not our writings teach us that he would return one day and by our bands we would know him. El-Arathor has returned.’

At the mention of this name the five companions felt a shiver of uncontrolled excitement run through their bodies.

Suddenly the two great doors to the Elder’s Hall swung open as if by their own design and there revealed was a tall man in a long flowing robe which one such as a monk might wear. The hood hid his face although the eyes beneath it seemed to glow with a wonderful warmth. He moved soundlessly into the hall and walked confidently up to the Elders.

As he moved a powerful force seemed to emanate from all about his figure.

Then before the Elders and all watching, he left fall his hood, and with a gasp the Elders knelt before him; without a thought, all else within the hall followed and as they did  Rema gasped one word of amazed and joyful recognition.

‘Mentor!’ he cried, and without knowing it his face was wet with tears, for deep within his being he knew that a bigger picture was now revealed, and his part was but a piece in something vast and mysterious, and suddenly he was no longer alone in trying to fathom the why and the wherefore of his strange and dangerous quest. Serenna heard the name and immediately realised this was the mysterious man who had saved Rema’s life after his first encounter with the three
Wolvers,
and who had given him the amazing cloak which had protected him from further attack. She too felt a thrill of deeper understanding although she had no words to describe it.

The man spoke in a voice full of the deepest resonances and which commanded the ear of all within the Elders Hall.

‘My friends, please stand up and let me greet you.’ He waited as they did so, and then addressed the gathering.

‘Elders of AlGiron I come to you now as it was promised in ages past, but at a time of great trouble in Revelyn. These things I know have been laid before you.’ He turned to Rema and beckoned him come forward. Rema happily obeyed. ‘Rema you have done well against great opposition, but there is much yet to be achieved and even now there is no certainty as to the outcome, for the enemy grows stronger each day.’

He then addressed each of the company as a friend might do. They were all amazed and accepted the words he offered as though gifts from a mighty King.

‘Reigin, you have learnt much of truth, hold to it, for the future of your people is in your hands henceforth.’

‘Scion, you are welcomed to this company for your strength and honest manner is like a tie which binds good things together.’

He spoke more sternly to Ofeigr.

‘Ofeigr, you hold close your thoughts, but your role in this shall soon be revealed and it is no small part. Take care how you walk in this.’

He smiled warmly at Serenna.

‘My dear girl. I know your heart and without you this quest could not be made.’

And then he turned and spoke to the Elders.

‘Bring a bucket of sand and one of water for I must teach you what you do not yet see.’

Immediately orders were given and stewards ran to fulfil this simple request.

‘Follow me all of you out onto the balcony.’ El-Arathor commanded as though there was little time in which to carry out some plan. They all complied for they all knew that this was one to whom obedience was given without question. They were soon standing in the cold night air overlooking Revelyn, which far below was bathed in the light of a strong half moon. The clouds had disappeared and the huge drop down the massive escarpment was immediately before them. The air was clear to every horizon and seemed to spark with anticipation at what might follow.

‘I am not with you long my friends,’ El-Arathor spoke in such a manner that his words seemed to resonate forever in their minds. ‘I had not wished to appear quite yet but things have moved more quickly than I had thought.’ He paused and they gazed in awe upon one who seemed in some ways ageless, and yet so old, so full of a vastly deeper wisdom, and yet as close as a friend might stand in understanding and fellowship.

‘Rema come stand with me.’ Rema did so, and El-Arathor placed a firm hand upon his shoulder and guided him to the parapet as he continued. ‘See across the void, that light in the far distance. What do you make of that?’ Rema squinted hard into the night and thought upon what it could be.

‘Mentor,’ he said for it was the name which he had been allowed to use once before and it had travelled well with him since their first meeting so long before. ‘I used to stand at
Farview
on a good day and if the air was clear like it is tonight I could see the Eastern Upthrust just a smudge upon the horizon. I would say that if I now stand here in AlGiron, then I am looking back that way, so it is
Farview.
’

‘You are right Rema well done. Between here and there is a land in darkness but not just by the lack of sunlight. Elders you have been told that an evil has crept upon the land and perhaps you struggle to see how this creeping stain will ever reach AlGiron.’ He turned and commanded all to stand at the parapet.

‘Look now to the south and west and tell me what do you see?’ All present looked and saw far off in the distance, many lights twinkling in the blackness.

‘Sira that looks to me like a city on the plains,’ Serenna whose sharp eyes were more able than the others to discern such things spoke next.

‘And yet here is no town in that place,’ Eldres Kreilliorn spoke in a whisper; the plains are empty there, to which Anderlorn gave quick assent.

‘Indeed the plains hold no great towns in that place... and yet it is a town.’ He stood perplexed.

‘You are both right said El-Arathor, ‘it is a town which has been there but a day or two. Look upon it all, for it is the encamped army of the King, the one who would seek to hold all Revelyn in thrall by the power he has invested in his adviser Zelfos.

‘But that is many men, ten thousand at least,’ Reigin said, for knew the army and from whence it came. ‘King Petros must believe he is facing a powerful foe.’

‘And yet we at present are but five,’ said Rema quietly. ‘We cannot match such a force.’

‘Indeed you cannot,’ said El-Arathor, ‘but this is not the worst of it. Now gather round and listen for I will show you what danger is in this for all in Revelyn and AlGiron combined.’

He took the bucket of sand which had arrived as they had been talking.

‘This sand is Revelyn.’ They nodded. He took the bucket full of water. ‘This water represents the evil acts of man, the violence and slaughter, the dishonesty and greed, the lusts and selfish desire for power and supremacy over others. It is found where all men live.’ Once more they nodded.

‘Now watch.’ El-Arathor took the water and poured some onto the sand.

‘What do you see?’ No one spoke until Scion was brave enough to risk seeming dull.

‘I see nothing much has changed sira, ’cept a little stain upon the land, er sand.’

‘And you are right. Now watch again. El-Arathor poured some more water. It too disappeared like the first. ‘What now?’ said El-Arathor.’

‘As before,’ said Ofeigr this time. ‘There is little change.’

‘And now?’ More water was poured and still the change was hardly noticeable.

 They stood and watched as more evil was poured upon the land until El-Arathor called a halt to his simple demonstration and spoke with great intensity.

‘The land can take so much evil thrust upon it, but a point is reached when it no longer can resist.’ At that moment he poured just a small bit more, and suddenly the sand was submerged completely, overrun by the rising tide beneath.

‘And so it is in Revelyn. When man ploughs evil upon evil into the very fabric of the land, it allows the evil beneath to rise until it is overrun. The creature Zelfos was once a man, but one who allowed his vain obsession with evil things of a lower world to possess his very being. That which lives within him now rules completely. He now desires to allow other evil creatures from below to enter this world and destroy forever that which some have long worked to create as a place for man to live in happiness and peace.’

He paused then and paced the balcony in anger, as the company watched and listened with a growing understanding.

‘Zelfos already has three of his own in this land. They are the
Shadow Hunters
which you Rema have encountered once before. These are more dangerous than a thousand armed men, for they are in truth not men or animal but demons from a lower world which desire but one thing, to be embodied like Zelfos. Once there are more they will overthrow the rule of Revelyn and throw down the gates of AlGiron, for they are more powerful than the magic of the dwarves, and then all men will fall in thrall to an evil which none can resist. Once the water covers the sand there is no way to turn it back.’

The Elders of ALGiron stood in horror at this dreadful news, for now they understood that no dwarf magic or mighty cliffs were separation enough from what would befall Revelyn. They too would fall.

El-Arathor continued.

‘The King Petros sees only the power of his throne. Zelfos sees a triumph for evil which has never before been won, for Petros is but a puppet for his dark intentions. These things are close now and the final evil sufficient to bring his plans success, to drown the land beyond redemption, is to defeat what good will stand before him in battle, for as the blood flows and the arrows slay, this will open the doors for those who howl out to follow him upon the earth.’

‘Mentor,’ Rema spoke boldly now, ‘We can fight that army if the
Edenwhood
will ride forth with us, but who can stand against these shadow hunters, for you have said they cannot be defeated by mortals such as I?’

El-Arathor then gave a sigh which greatly surprised the company, as though his energy was depleted by some great effort. He spoke gently in reply.

‘No weapon of man can inflict but the smallest wound upon these creatures. There is but one weapon upon the earth which can be wielded against them to their destruction and it was placed in this realm long ages ago for this very purpose, but the wielder cannot alone do this thing. She must be helped.’

‘And who is this person and where is this mighty weapon?’ Elder Anderlorn asked.

It was Reigin who replied.

‘Sylvion Greyfeld has the weapon for I have seen her use it once and then in a small manner only, but I have held it too, I carried it for her when we escaped from
The Vault
, although she alone can wield it, for she is the heir to the throne of Revelyn. Surely now it is clear what we must do?’ The force of his request was unmistakable.

‘Well spoken Reigin,’ El-Arathor continued once more. ‘It is true the
Shadow Blade
is this weapon, and it has been held safe outside the Royal Palace for many long years or else it would have fallen to Zelfos who desires it above all things.’

He turned and faced them all with a burning fire in his eyes.

‘Reigin asks truly. Is it not now clear what you must do?’ He finished by facing the Elders of AlGiron and left them with the challenge, before turning once more to Rema. ‘Rema come here for I wish to show you one more thing, and he took him to the parapet once more.

‘Look to the west; there is a mountain, low and worn, surrounded by the plains and covered in brambles thorns and its sides loose rock which cannot be climbed without great effort. Do you see it?’

Rema saw it clearly although the detail which had been given was not visible from such a distance. ‘I see a mountain Mentor as you state,’ he said.

That is the
Vaudim
. Long before the
Ravelin
and the
Edenwood
lived in Revelyn and became enemies, the Mountain Dwarves created this place to settle their own disputes, for they too had tribes and fell out over many things. If these disagreements led to war and could not be solved in any other way they could choose to use the
Vaudim
. It is an ancient volcano which has a small opening on one side. There is a magic sown into that place which will allow but fourscore to enter at one time, an equal number from each opposing side in battle. And those who chose to enter shall decide the battle with less bloodshed, for it becomes a contest between few. What magic remains there I do not know but it might well turn out to be a useful redoubt at the last. I cannot here explain more than that and what happens will be the will of men not any other, although in Zelfos, evil creatures from below now have an ally. So time is short.’