The Last Elf of Lanis (19 page)

As they entered, the soldier reverently said, “Our Queen.”

Everyone in the house solemnly stood. Halldora was overcome.

“Please sit,” she said. Food was brought, and a humble meal was shared, with many in the house recalling fond times in Ethgeow under Haergill’s rule.

“I am Gerdsun, my Queen,” the soldier humbly introduced himself. “I served under your husband, the king, in many campaigns. His nobility and graciousness were always an inspiration to me and many others.”

“I thank you, Gerdsun,” Halldora gently said. “You truly are noble and brave.”

“Why did you leave the kingdom?” An elderly woman nearby asked.

“Haergill felt the garond army was too strong, and the Northern Kingdom too weak,” Halldora plainly said. “He also knew that his life was being deliberately targeted.”

“By Apghilis and his scum!” A sad faced man burst out, then apologized.

“Truly,” Halldora continued. “Haergill the king did not want
any more
of the kingdom to die on his account. He felt it best to live simply as a common man. And, I supported him, and I came to love and respect our ordinary life. For a time we were happy. But, I know now we left our responsibilities, and maybe that was selfish of us.”

The room was quiet with understanding and affection.

“What is your command now, my Queen?” Gerdsun humbly asked.

“We must join my friend’s husband in his quest. He may be stranded on the Holmwy Bridge, or he may have crossed. In any case we must find him and aid him,” Halldora quietly said with an understanding look to Wynnfrith whose eyes were filled with gratitude.

“It’s best to wait for nightfall, then,” Gerdsun said. “I and those with us will storm the bridge and safely see you across.” His eyes were filled with fire.

The rest of the day was spent resting, eating and readying for the struggle to come as night fell.

Before the sun set, the house emptied, with Wynnfrith and Halldora encircled by at least a hundred citizens and soldiers of the Northern Kingdom. They pushed their way slowly through the crowded wooden streets of Alfhich.

The allies of the Northern Kingdom grew in numbers and were beginning to get boisterous. As the great mass of people shouldered their way towards the great bridge over the Holmwy River, the henchmen of Apghilis recognized many in the crowd and began to shout commands to retreat. Wynnfrith could see Feeblerod on the bridge, behind the soldiers, bawling commands like a fat emperor.

The crowd pressed closer to the soldiers.

“Back! Back!” The soldiers of Apghilis cried.

“Traitors!” Gerdsun bellowed and the crowd aggressively pushed forward.

“Hold them back!” Feeblerod shrieked from his place of safety.

The Holmwy Bridge beyond was deserted and no lights were lit in the dusk. It looked as if the soldiers had cleared everyone off the bridge in the search for Kellabald.

“For the Kingdom of Man!” Halldora cried as she pulled down her hood, revealing her flame red hair in the glow of the sunset.

A great cry went up as swords were drawn on all sides. Soldiers all around had little room to strike as the crush of people pushed this way and that.

“Back! Back!” Feeblerod screamed, and he and his soldiers retreated to the bridge with the great mass of people behind them.

Halldora and Wynnfrith pushed forward with Gerdsun in front of them acting as a wedge, cutting his way this way and that through Apghilis’ soldiers.

“Get the Queen through,” Gerdsun bellowed to his fellow rebel soldiers, and swords danced furiously all around Halldora and Wynnfrith.

Gerdsun grabbed Halldora by the arm and pulled her through the back of the traitor soldier’s line. Halldora clutched Wynnfrith by the arm and pulled her through as well.

“Run! Run!” Gerdsun yelled as a sword struck him through the body.

Halldora was momentarily stunned, but then turned and pulled Wynnfrith down the wooden bridge towards the first pier.

Behind them they could hear the great clash and screams of battle. All was black and the water below was a deadly, drowning, dark black.

“He’s behind us!” Wynnfrith cried to Halldora, who turned to see the fat, bouncing mass of Feeblerod, with sword drawn, huffing after them.

They made for the second pier as the wind began to angrily whisper. Feeblerod, for all his obesity, was gaining on them.

The sun was just touching the horizon as they reached the third pier. Both women were out of breath, but they ran on, with Feeblerod’s dangerous, murderous puffing close on their backs.

The fourth and center pier was a maze of houses and warehouse, and the women were soon lost.

Wide eyed and filled with horror, they slowly turned corners and ran down alleys to try to find the way to the fifth pier.

They heard Feeblerod creaking down a ramp and held as still as they could.

“There you are,” he heavily breathed with destruction in his voice.

Halldora and Wynnfrith ran.

But, they turned a corner and found themselves in the wide open center of the fourth pier. The way across was clearly in view, but Feeblerod stepped from behind a stack of crates and blocked the way.

“We must fight him!” Halldora cried to Wynnfrith.

“How can we?” Wynnfrith said, out of breath and filled with despair.

Feeblerod danced close with his long, feminine blade making curling swipes in the last rays of the setting sun.

Halldora pushed Wynnfrith and hoped to draw Feeblerod away, but she immediately saw that all he wanted was Wynnfrith.

Halldora turned and running leapt on Feeblerod’s back. He shrugged her off.

Halldora landed with a heavy thud. On her back she saw Feeblerod raise his sword and drive it viciously at her. She rolled at the last second, and it strongly pinned her dress to the wooden planks of the pier. Feeblerod struggled for a moment to pull his sword free, but when he saw how it disabled Halldora he smiled and turned to Wynnfrith.

Wynnfrith was tired and had no more fight left in her as Feeblerod stood over her with a cruel smile spreading over his face.

Wynnfrith tried to stand and hit him, but he easily knocked her down hard.

I will fight him to the end, she thought. But then the farsight began.

“No! No, not now!” She screamed, for when the visions came, she was paralyzed and helpless.

Feeblerod heartlessly laughed and kneeled down to cover her with his fatness. He began to pull at his trousers.

Wynnfrith felt the farsight come over her and her body stiffened.

Get up, she said to herself. Stop the vision and get up.

“Don’t you touch her!” Halldora screamed, with tears flowing down her face in anger and disgust, as she pulled at the sword pinning her dress to the pier.

But Wynnfrith was deep in the farsight. She rose in the vision, high up into the sky. She could see the bridge and the river.

It was as if she were a seagull flying high above the land. She could see the stand of trees that must be Bittel. She could see all the Eastern Meadowland.

And then she traveled south to Harvestley, and there she saw something she could hardly believe. A great army of garonds, more than any could ever imagine, hundreds of thousands.

And they were all dancing and celebrating. A great feast for their dreaded leader was being prepared. And then she almost vomited, for she knew they were going to roast alive and eat several hundred humans.

And then, she saw her son.

Wynnfrith almost came out of the vision with the shock of seeing Arnwylf. She struggled with Feeblerod who was trying to tear her clothes off.

In the vision he was moving amongst the garonds, but then someone else was there.

It was He.

The Evil One.

He was a beautiful young man, with sandy blonde hair. And then Wynnfrith smiled for she knew what to do.

In her mind she called to him.

Look at me! Look! Here! I see you, great and terrible one! You are not so powerful!

I see you.

Then Wynnfrith could feel in her mind as he took notice. His anger and evil was overwhelming, like an immense, growing black cloud, death and sorrow multiplied into the infinite.

And he was furious that she would dare to taunt him.

Wynnfrith saw him make only the slightest of gestures, and a blinding bolt of power leapt from his hand.

She flew with the lightning bolt over the skies of Wealdland. The lightning bolt was headed right for Alfhich, right for the fourth pier. He was going to kill her.

At the last moment, with all the strength left her, Wynnfrith pushed up on Feeblerod and rolled out from under him as the lightning bolt struck.

Feeblerod convulsed as the bolt hit him. His fat body bucked with spasms as it cooked. He
rose
slightly off the wooden planks of the pier as the fat began to melt off his disgusting body. A silent scream froze on his face as he burned and burned. His fat hands blackened and charred with the white hot fire.

Feeblerod sizzled and smelled of burning meat.

Then the consumed carcass fell to the floor with a crispy thud, and broke into scorched black, flaky chunks, and seared black bones.

Wynnfrith ran to Halldora and helped her pull out the sword that held her pinned to the wooden platform.

“We must flee,” Halldora said, looking at the fire quickly spreading over the pier.

They ran for the span, which led to the fifth pier and the far shore, but it collapsed into the river in flames.

They ran back to the span, which led back to the eastern side. They could see many people, some still fighting on the other side of a wall of flame. They were caught on the fourth pier as it burned with a ravenous fury, and encircled by fire all around.

“No,” Halldora said. She clutched Wynnfrith’s arm and walked towards the wall of flames.

“I will not be denied!” Halldora screamed at the flames.

As she stepped forward, with her words, a wind began, a wind that resembled the shape of the mother of the queen, and the shape cleared the flames for Halldora and Wynnfrith to walk through.

On the other side, all had ceased struggle to stare in wonder.

A soldier kneeled, then another. Then all the citizens of the Northern Kingdom slowly knelt.

“Your Queen,” the gravely wounded Gerdsun said.

“We had best all get quickly off this bridge,” Halldora said. And, a rapid, but orderly evacuation of the bridge commenced with all staring in wonder at their queen who commanded the very claws of flame.

On the shore, they watched as the bridge burned from end to end and fell into the river.

“There’s no crossing here now,” Gerdsun said by Halldora’s side.

Gerdsun fell from his wounds.

“You will not die, brave soldier,” Halldora said. “I command it.”

Gerdsun smiled as his deadly wounds were quickly seen to.

“How can we cross this river, now?” Halldora said in despair.

“Tyny,” Wynnfrith said. “We must go north to Tyny. There is a bridge there.”

So, they left with all who would follow,
to begin
the journey north. And follow they did. All the residents of Alfhich, refugees from Madrun and all the Wealdland began the trek north along the eastern shores of the Holmwy River to Tyny.

They walked all through the night.

At midnight, word was sent to Halldora.

Halldora and Wynnfrith approached the litter bearing Gerdsun.

“I am so sorry I
cannot
follow your command, my queen,” Gerdsun weakly said.

“Then go to be with Haergill and stand with honor among the heroes of the Northern Kingdom of Man in the halls of Oann,” Halldora said holding his hand.

Gerdsun tried to kiss Halldora’s hand in respect, but his life left him. And, he died with a smile of honor on his face.

A bier was made and the hero Gerdsun was cremated and sent to his ancestors with righteousness.

Out of courtesy, all travel was halted for the night.

The next morning the great and growing migration north continued. The journey took all day, and as night was falling Halldora and Wynnfrith arrived at the small village of Tyny to find it already overflowing with humans. The surrounding camps numbered in the thousands.

The men of Reia held the bridge. They would let no man cross over to the Western Meadowlands and the green hills beyond the Flume of Rith.

As night began to fall, Halldora and Wynnfrith were granted dinner at the camp of Haerreth, the son of Healfdene, the king of Reia.

Haerreth was a young man in his late twenties, blonde haired, ginger bearded, and full of fire. The banquet was set outside, with tables and chairs and many courses of food arraigned around a large bonfire. He was surrounded by his war generals dressed in splendid armor, and his younger sister sat at his right hand.