Elfhunter (69 page)

Kharsh was taken aback. Gorgon had not intimated that
he was receiving any but useful insights from the Elves or that
anything was amiss until now. "My lord, do you mean to say that you
believe this may not go forward as planned? If so, this is fairly
serious! Do you think we should proceed if we are uncertain?"

Gorgon drew forth the mirror and held it before
Kharsh, who immediately dropped his gaze. "The Shadowmancer expects
a return for His gift, and if I do not bring Him that which He
desires, I had better have a more compelling reason than a vague
impression gleaned from the Elves. We must proceed, or face His
wrath. He has made it plain to me that He will not tolerate
failure, for He greatly desires the downfall of the Elf-lords. We
must proceed, certain or no."

Kharsh nodded. He could certainly relate to Gorgon’s
point about the Shadowmancer, for he had witnessed the consequences
of displeasing Him. The unfortunates involved had begged for death,
which came to them not quickly. He shuddered at the memory. He
hoped that the misgivings Gorgon was experiencing were just the
result of his inexperience in leading a force into open battle.

In a rare, bold moment Kharsh looked Gorgon in the
eye, saying, "I understand. And you are right—we must proceed. I
hold hope that your uncertainty will fade as the time draws near,
but if not, and the Elves have set a trap for us, let us hope that
we do not survive it. Failure will mean death for us all, and given
the choice of facing Wrothgar’s wrath or falling in battle, I will
choose battle! But know that I am your humble servant, my lord,
whatever may befall."

"That you are, Kharsh, that you are," growled Gorgon,
"whether you would have it or no. We must make certain that our
forces are as ready as they can be and that our battle plan is well
made. We will prevail; I know the Elves are not expecting a host of
this size and ferocity, at any rate. Their pride will assist us,
and they will fall. The pride of the Elàni is a thing that I know
very much about; long has it been their undoing. But I shall remain
vigilant and glean what I may from them until the day of reckoning.
We must not assume victory, though we are fairly certain of
it."

Gorgon said nothing for a long while, and just as
Kharsh assumed that he had finished speaking and turned to leave,
Gorgon spoke once more, his voice low, soft, and menacing. "They
shall fall before me as blades of grass wither before a flame, and
none will remain, save one. I have not yet finished with thee,
Gaelen Taldin. But thy choice in the Tuathan will bear no fruit, as
he shall be among the first to fall at my hands. All who love thee
shall fall."

Kharsh knew then that, regardless of any reservations
Gorgon might have, the Black Command would be going to war at the
next new moon. The Elves would be thrown into doubt and confusion,
and the Shadowmancer would achieve a major victory, even though he
was not yet strong.

The eve of departure for the Barrens had come at
last. Those chosen to prepare for the council included Rogond and
Gaelen, Nelwyn, Galador, Fima and Thorndil, along with a small
company of the Elves of the Greatwood. They would carry the
provisions necessary to set up the council area, and they would
scout the region thoroughly to ensure the safety of the
participants. At least, that was the information made available to
the Black Command. In reality, they prepared for war. They would be
met by others unknown to and unseen by Gorgon, for these
preparations would be extensive. They would require a larger force
than would the setting up of a simple council chamber.

Rogond had left the Woodland stronghold to walk along
the banks of the River Dominglas, mulling over the preparations in
his mind. He prayed that they had left nothing undone, no detail
overlooked. Had their deception succeeded? They would not know
until the confrontation came, he supposed. Of course, if Gorgon had
learned of their plans somehow, he might be already awaiting them,
and doubtless the advance party would all be killed. Then Gorgon
would likely await the arrival of Ri-Aruin, who would oversee the
last of the preparations, and he would be slain as well. In
anticipation of such a terrible possibility, the Wood-elves had
called upon many to serve as lookouts, forming a chain of contact
all the way back to the Elven-hold. If the advance party met with
disaster, Ri-Aruin would learn of it and be able to prepare.

Rogond had passed by the Narrows to a place where the
river calmed and sat down upon a stone, staring at the water as it
flowed by. It always relaxed him to look and listen to the river,
and he would need to be steady and calm in this effort, as the
advance party played an especially important part in ensuring that
Gorgon would be well and truly lured in. Gaelen had confided that
she was beginning to sense some hesitation when Gorgon was in
contact with her, though she could tell that he was still bent on
attacking the council. It was a bit of a worry. If Gorgon slipped
out of their trap now, the chance would never come again, and
Gaelen would be forced to remain in solitude lest she unwittingly
play a part in assisting him. She had vowed that no more lives
would be taken with her aid.

Rogond’s gaze was drawn to a dark object, half
washed-up on the rocky riverbank, and he wondered what it could be,
as it looked vaguely familiar. He rose and went to retrieve it,
then looked down in wonderment. It was Gaelen’s blue pouch, though
it appeared nearly black in its sodden condition. The strap had
broken and it fluttered in the current. Was it too much to hope
that the banner of Ri-Elathan, Gaelen’s talisman, was still inside?
Rogond crouched down beside the waters, reached for the tattered
pouch, and lifted it. Then he returned to the stone and sat upon
it, gently squeezing the excess water from the old, worn leather.
The design could no longer be seen upon it, but inside he found the
banner, or what was left of it, and he carefully removed and
inspected it.

The pattern was still brilliant; the silk still
shimmered. Only about half of the original fabric remained; the
rest had been scorched away in the heat of the terrible final
confrontation between Ri-Elathan and Wrothgar. This was the first
time Rogond had beheld it. He knew of it, of course, having been
told about it by Nelwyn, and now he gently fingered the soft silk,
imagining the events that it had witnessed. Gaelen’s heart was
wrapped up in this banner, he knew, and the loss of it had grieved
her. It was the first thing she had reached for when she regained
her senses after they had pulled her from the river. The look in
her eyes when she had realized it was gone had torn at his heart,
and he would have given anything in that moment to restore it to
her. He often had seen her reach up to hold it in times of stress,
and now her fingers searched in vain for it until she remembered
that it was lost.

She would be elated at its return, and it gladdened
Rogond’s heart that he would be the one to bring it back to her and
bring her joy. Now he spread the silken remnant upon the warm, soft
grass so that it would dry quickly. The pouch was no longer
serviceable; it was practically falling to pieces in his hands.
Still, he tended it, laying it beside the banner where he could
keep an eye on it until he returned to the halls, there to present
the banner to his beloved that it might make her glad again.

The advance party would leave at dawn, and all was in
readiness. Gaelen was completely focused on the task set before
her, and she honed her blades one final time, looking to her bow
and quiver as well, for she was going to war. She did not notice
Rogond when he first approached her, as he could be quite stealthy
if he so wished. He hung back in the shadows for a moment, taking
in the sight of his beloved as she held up each arrow-shaft and
sighted down it, her bright eyes focused, frowning slightly. She
was already dressed for traveling in light garments of dull green
and brown, looking small and plain, and very much the rustic
hunter-scout. Rogond knew better. She was an eagle in the guise of
a sparrow, her heart was fierce and she would see her enemy
destroyed. Her eyes burned again with their familiar bright light,
but now it was the light of purpose, and she would not turn from
it.

He knew that she had come to terms with Gorgon’s
invasion of her senses, turning it back upon him so that it was
almost welcomed, though she still shuddered with revulsion if she
allowed herself to think too long of it. There was no longer any
risk that she would harm herself, as she was too important in the
design of Gorgon’s downfall. It was true that she would not allow
herself to indulge in her usual pastimes, as she was afraid to
relax lest something slip into Gorgon’s reckoning.

She kept imagining one of her favorite stories, in
which Ri- Aldamar, whom she had never seen but had always imagined
as resembling his son, Ri-Elathan, used his incredible fortitude to
lead his army over five hundred miles from Tal-elathas in seven
days, to come to the aid of his friend Conegal, then Lord of
Tuathas, who was besieged. He never gave up hope, so she must not.
Her task was small, so she thought, compared with his. Had
Ri-Aldamar been privy to her thoughts, he might have disagreed.

Rogond made a sound in his throat to alert Gaelen to
his presence and then approached her as she acknowledged him.

"Has everything been made ready? Is there anything
else you would have me do?" she asked, her bright eyes alert and
willing.

He shook his head. "We are as ready as we will ever
be, Gaelen, but there is one thing I would do before we leave
tomorrow. Nelwyn told me of Ri-Elathan’s banner that you wore as
your talisman. She said he never went forth without it, and so you
should not. I have come to return that which was lost." So saying,
he drew forth the banner, carefully folded, and offered it to
her.

Gaelen could not breathe for a moment. She looked
into his eyes and read his honest, loving nature in their calm,
grey depths. She longed to take the banner from him, but she did
not. Instead, she took his hand, folding his fingers gently over
the soft silk.

"Ri-Elathan came to me on the shores of the Dark Sea
that leads to the Eternal Realm. He told me that I should grieve no
more for him, that I should open my heart. I believe that he took
the banner from me so that I might realize that my life does have
meaning without him. Life does continue, though we may not have it
so."

Rogond sorrowed for her in that moment, for the
longing in her eyes was still there, though she tried to deny it.
He took her arm.

Y-O-U G-O T-O W-A-R T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W T-A-K-E I-T.

Then he spoke. "He would want you to have it next to
your heart. Take it." He offered it again to her. "He meant for me
to find it, that I might restore it to you. Take it, please."

"No, Rogond. You found it, not I. He did not return
it to me, and therefore he does not wish for me to have it any
longer. You found it. You keep it."

He looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her
conviction there. She honestly believed that Farahin had given the
banner to Rogond. Finally, she took his hand, which was still
holding the banner, in both of her own. Then she spoke softly.

"This has passed on, Thaylon. You will have more need
of it than I, for you are my protector now."

Then she turned abruptly and left him before he could
react. He knew better than to pursue her, but stood alone,
fingering the soft silken folds of the banner before tucking it
away next to his heart.

At dawn the Company departed for the Barrens, bearing
their provisions. A second, much larger group of Elves left the
following day, carrying armaments and other supplies that would be
needed for battle. They would rendezvous in the appointed place in
eight days’ time, after traveling well over two hundred miles from
the Woodland stronghold, but this would present no difficulty, as
they were mounted. Ri-Aruin, who would need to be "seen" by Gorgon,
would arrive two days after that. Then he would remain until the
arrival of "Magra" and Oryan. Once Gorgon was aware of Ri-Aruin’s
presence the King would return to the safety of the stronghold,
leaving Wellyn to assume his role. Wellyn resembled his father
quite strongly, save that he was a bit more finely made. They would
disguise this, however, and Rogond felt that Gorgon would not
detect the deception.

So long as Wellyn did not speak, all would be well,
for his voice was softer than and not as deep as Ri-Aruin’s.

On the night of the new moon, the Elves would stage a
heated debate in the council-chamber, which was actually a large
silken tent erected upon a great, bowl-like plateau that capped the
summit of the highest hill. None without wings would be able to
view this area, and because it was such a logical place to hold the
council, Gorgon would make for it immediately. In addition, so long
as Gaelen remained there, the sunken plateau would prevent her from
accidentally viewing the battle-preparations. Gorgon would most
likely attack when the Elves were most distracted, and Gaelen would
be set at the doorway of the silken tent, where she would hear all
of the debate, but she would not look directly at Wellyn
("Ri-Aruin") or Amandir ("Magra"). It would not do to allow Gorgon
to have close visual scrutiny of either of them.

They had but one objective in this confrontation, and
that was to kill Gorgon Elfhunter. They did not yet know the extent
of his army, but a few skilled hunter-scouts had been sent to
occupy posts to the south of the Barrens, where they would catch
first sight of the Black Command and return quickly with the
information.

Two days prior to the council, Oryan and the Elves of
Tal- sithian arrived. Oryan was treated as an honored guest,
emissary to the Lake-realm. The appearance of "Magra" (Amandir) had
been staged the day before, as he and his small retinue made their
way in from the east. Gaelen made certain that Gorgon knew "Lord
Magra" had arrived, as she expressed her relief to Rogond that he
had not been waylaid upon the road. She made certain to view him
only at a distance, as Gorgon might recognize Amandir and thus see
through his disguise. Now the Black Command would be aware that all
the Elves planning to attend the council were present, and Gorgon
would no doubt begin moving his army north, preparing his assault
upon them. The Company anxiously awaited news from their scouts to
the south, and they were not disappointed.