The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor (38 page)

"By the gods, what have you done?" Cailen
gasped as she shuffled to her feet. Everyone rushed to the edge and
looked down. Helfare smirked, seeming not to care, and stepped away
from the knot of searchers for any sign of Malander.

Randor got to his knees and looked about.
"Someone give me a sancten." Seth grabbed the metal rod holding
Cailen's fire from the pile of rocks and promptly put it in
Randor's waiting hand. Waving the fiery rod below, the wizard was
relieved to see Malander a little out of arm's reach, clinging to
the hilt of his sword, which was stuck fast in the rocks. He hung
limp as a rag, for the slightest movement might wrest free his
precarious handhold and send him hurtling into the abyss.

"Your spear, Cailen," said Randor.

Cailen lowered her weapon, butt first, to
Malander's free hand as Seth joined the elf-captain in grasping it
just below the blade. Meanwhile, Lorn and three of Cailen's guard
grasped the two rescuers at the waist to anchor them. As they
slowly hauled him upward, Malander's weight came off his sword and
he was able to extricate the blade from the stone.

The moment his arms reached the cliff's edge,
two more elves grasped him by the elbows and, with one last heave,
hauled him up and over. Malander stumbled forward, heading for the
arms of Helfare, who stepped aside, letting him fall face-first
onto the rock floor. Rolling to his back, he was greeted by the
point of Helfare's sword.

Cailen swung her spear low, knocking the
sword away from Malander, who then managed to stand.

"I have already warned you!" Malander
growled, brandishing his blade.

"Actions truly ring louder than words, I am
afraid," Helfare replied haughtily.

"Stand down, both of you," Randor said
sharply. "I have told you what will happen if you persist in this
childishness."

"No worries, my good wizard," Helfare said as
he gave a short bow. "I am just giving him a bout of words."

Arnanor's breath caught as he watched
Malander and Helfare standing together. Struck by the sudden
revelation, he said, "It is all clear to me now, for I know that
Malander is the spy the Oracle spoke of."

"I am no spy, you wretched elf!"

"You have not proved to me otherwise. Still
you take leave from the company whenever you feel, you disrespect
Randor's wishes, and you cloak yourself in secrecy." The elf-prince
thought his points were valid; surely they would be accepted by his
companions. He continued his study of the two dark-clad men and
continued, "Don't you see the connection between them?" All eyes
looked at the prince, baffled. "Their choice of garments is
suspiciously alike--this dark gear. Is this the fashion of many
these days?" Both Malander and Helfare looked at Arnanor, each
insulted at being associated with the other. "Have neither of you
noticed the left side of their faces? We have seen the treacherous
markings of Helfare, but never have any of us seen what lies
beneath Malander's half-mask."

Malander backed to the edge of the cliff
again, knowing full well what Arnanor desired.

The elf-prince pressed on, saying, "I'll
wager that Malander bears the same markings as the soldiers of the
symbol!"

"I do not have that accursed mark on my
body!" Malander replied, seething with anger.

"Prove me wrong."

"I owe you proof of nothing."

Unexpectedly, Helfare sided with the prince
and added, "I would have you prove me wrong, as well."

Malander held his weapon at the entire
gathering, unsure whether anyone would try to overtake him. The
cavern was filled with a new tension as the conflict drew to a
stalemate. This was one question no one should ever have asked
him.
It is no one's concern but mine. Nor
shall any one of you ever plumb the secrets I
guard,
Malander said to himself.
If they attack, I will plummet to the depths below. Some
things are better if taken to the grave--even if by one's own
hand.
Malander's heels rested at the very lip of the
cliff.

"Are you Of-Adian?" Helfare asked.

"Don't you already know?" Arnanor
replied.

"The army of Valadure is vast indeed, and I
have never seen its every man."

Seth stepped forward from the crowd and
asked, "How can you say they are of the same mold? They look
nothing alike." Arnanor glared at Seth, irked at being gainsaid by
a commoner. "Malander is shorter, and they aren't even of the same
build. Also, look at their eyes, Prince, for they are not of the
same color. Of-Adians' eyes are gray, not blue."

"Nonsense, boy," Arnanor laughed. "Malander
had his eye color manipulated to fool us." It was clear he was not
going to budge from his conviction. "Why don't you just leave this
to me, Highbinder?"

Seth could no longer hold back, and his
strong wish for concord moved him to stand before Helfare, only to
be ignored by the man. He tapped Helfare on the arm and said, "You
are ordered to cease this deliberation at once."

"How do you expect to stop me?" Helfare
replied as he crossed his arms.

"I am a diplomat of the Council, and since I
represent my masters on this quest--of which you are now a part--I
order you to silence yourself on the topic of Malander's loyalty.
You are causing more harm than good to our mission."

"I do not answer to the Council," Helfare
replied. "So what say you now?"

"If you fail to cooperate, I will have no
choice but arrest you and let Mudalfaen handle the matter."

"So this entire mission is overseen by the
Council of Mudalfaen?" Helfare asked.

"Yes," Seth was first to say.

"No," Gildan intervened. "It is not."

Seth looked to the mercenary, baffled. "You
were there, Gildan, when I delivered the letter in Dunane. You
heard King Zelok say it was the wish of the Council for me to be
here."

"What did the letter say?" Helfare asked.

Seth shook his head. "I did not read it. The
seal could not be broken by my hands." Seth turned to Randor for
comfort. "I only speak the truth here."

"I read the letter," Gildan said. "I was
fortunate enough to get a glance at it."

"You?" Seth answered. He was highly offended
that the parchment meant only for Zelok's eyes had been spied by
another. "How did you manage that?"

"You remember where I was sitting when you
first saw me, don't you?"

Seth thought back to the scene from many days
before. "You were beside Zelok; I recall that much."

Gildan approached Seth and noticed him
looking back into his eyes with great worry. Gildan did not want to
tell Seth about the letter, for he knew it would only bring discord
to the company, but no longer would he lie to Seth.

"What did it say?" asked Seth.

"Dare I say? If you desire, I will hold my
tongue. I don't want you to become discouraged."

"I entreat you with all my soul."

"Very well," Gildan said with lowered head.
"In the letter, the Council told Zelok not to send forth his
investigation party. Apparently, they caught word of his endeavor
and had you rush the parchment to Dunane to stop him."

Seth's face blanched; he could not believe
this revelation. He began to sway and fell heavily against Lorn,
who caught him. As Seth's sword clanged to the ground, he moaned,
"This--this cannot be…All this time I thought I was pleasing my
masters. But it has all been a lie."

"I am sorry I had to tell you in this way,"
Gildan said. "No longer will you be misled by distant authorities.
Place your trust and devotion with Randor. He would never subvert
our journey and ultimate calling."

"Why didn't you tell me in Dunane?" Seth
asked as he regained his feet. "At least then I might have
confronted Zelok and made sure he followed the wishes of
Mudalfaen."

"My dear boy, without the mission, I wouldn't
have acquired payment from Zelok."

"But your withheld silence until now has
caused both Lorn and me much grief. You have placed my friend in
the greatest pain and stress he has ever endured--and you do this
only to line your pocket with gold? You had better pray that
nothing happens to Lorn, or I will come after you--as a Council
diplomat or not." Seth shook his head, disgusted with Gildan's
selfish act. He wanted to say more to the mercenary, but his mind
was a whirlwind of thoughts.

And as Seth's mind was ravaged by his
personal maelstrom, he gradually became aware, just as everyone
else now was, of a distant sound, coming from the direction Randor
led he and his companions from some hours earlier. A faint creaking
rolled through the caverns, growing subtly louder as it drew nearer
to the Darnoth camp. Randor opened his tired eyes and wobbled to a
standing position. The ground began to tremble, and the Darnoth
elves were brought to an instant alert. A strange, frigid wind
blasted down the tunnel, annihilating every fire in the camp as it
passed. Though it lasted only a moment, it plunged all into utter
darkness.

Seth gently nudged Lorn aside and moved in
Randor's direction. "Does this happen often, Captain Cailen?"

"Too often," Cailen answered as she fumbled
her spear. With weapon in hand, she left the edge of the cliff and
stood next to her advisors. Quietly she said, "I thought we had a
nine-or ten-day start on the Argos."

"That was our estimate," one advisor said, at
a loss.

Randor made his way to the collection of
officers. "I gather this wind is a present from the Argos
host."

"They are capable of distant magic," Cailen
said, readying herself for war. "They will be upon us soon. We must
move inward so as not to let ourselves become pinned to this
cliff." With a sancten in hand she tapped one end on her shoulder,
the metal clanging softly against her dented armor. As it was
pulled back and held in front of her, a small fire ignited.

"Lead the way, Captain," Randor said.

Cailen moved toward the rear of her army with
her advisors at her heels. Randor led his own company behind the
group of elves. The Darnoth elves readied themselves, shuffling to
their feet and gathering weapons and equipment, falling into
formation. Echoes of drums rumbled in the distance.

Peering into the darkened cavern ahead,
Randor saw the faint red flicker of Argos torches creeping toward
them.

"At last, a true battle," Gildan spoke with
excitement. "It has been far too long for me."

"Give the order to charge," Malander said,
licking his lips. "This is all I will ever ask of you, Cailen. I
need this badly."

"You know your orders, Sir Geil," Arnanor
said.

"Yes, my liege."

Randor approached Geil, catching the
elf-knight and Arnanor by surprise. He looked at Geil and said, "It
is time for you to allow Muron to fight on his own. Although I am
not telling you to leave his side, it is time to initiate the
prince into battle."

"But, Randor--"

"Does Muron not possess the proper training?"
the wizard asked, already knowing the answer and it was justified
by Geil's silence. "Then he will aid us from now on." Seeing how
this tore at Geil, Randor leaned in to whisper in his ear, "This
will be of great benefit to Muron if you do this."

"Do not listen to him," Arnanor said, angered
by the wizard's advice.

"But he shall," Randor said sternly. "You
cannot protect him forever."

"Yes," Gildan added, "I've been wondering
that for a while now. Why did you even bring him if you will not
let him fight?"

"Both of us had to leave our father's side if
this quest was to remain secret," Arnanor said. "It isn't that
Muron doesn't know how to defend himself. You have to realize that
our father has ordered Sir Geil to shadow every move Muron makes,
and to defend him whenever necessary. I am responsible for his
safekeeping."

"I will fight for you, Cailen," Muron said.
"We will all fight for you."

"Then I accept the pledge, Your
Highness."

The Argos drew nearer to the Darnoth's
position as shouts of insult flooded the air, with both sides eager
for a fight.

The approaching light of the Argos torches
gave Randor his first glimpse of Cailen's curse, showing the
mutilated and deformed shapes of the enemy, covered by rotting furs
and armor that hung loosely on their gaunt bodies. And there,
behind the many ranks of the Argos army, stood the greatest of
their kind: an elf whom Cailen referred to only as "The Bane of
Darnoth." The Argos leader stood tall and rigid behind his minions,
who wanted nothing more than to slay the Darnoth and flee
Eln-Radah, for they, too, wished to be victorious and return to
their homeland.

"How many are there?" Randor asked
Cailen.

"Around a thousand."

Helfare laughed to himself, having fought
against worse odds before, winning even when many times
outnumbered. In fact, the general had yet to lose a battle.

"Let me handle the fiercest of the lot,"
Malander mumbled. "I want to see how good he really is."

"Then so shall it be, my good man," Cailen
responded. "None of us has ever laid hand or spear upon that spawn
of the devil. I wish you luck, because I cannot advise you of any
weakness he possesses--since we have never found one."

"I will find his weakness," the grim warrior
said. "Hear me--none shall go near him, or they deal with me."

"I am glad to see that you have a plan,
Malander," Randor said as he turned to the rest of his companions.
"As for the rest of you, separate the army from its leader. Once we
have done so, the Argos's line of communication will be broken.
Keep in mind, we have not much space behind us to fall back
on."

"It is time," Cailen declared.

Unexpectedly, and for the first time, the
Argos leader spoke. "Surrender!" His voice, filled with arrogance
and menace, shook the very mountain as the echo stirred throughout
the cavern.