Elfhunter (65 page)

She gave a convulsive heave, constricting her chest
in an all-out effort, and was rewarded with a torrent of murky
water issuing from her mouth and nose, soaking Rogond’s tunic. She
took in a great gasp of air, and then heaved again, clearing more
water as Rogond and Nelwyn both cried out in astonishment. She had
spent her strength then, but Rogond grasped her with gentle hands
to aid her in expelling enough of the remaining water that she
could more easily draw air into her lungs. She was freezing cold
and began shuddering violently, her teeth chattering between bouts
of coughing and gasping. She grasped Rogond’s arm with failing
strength. He held her and wept, but this time his tears were of
relief, not sorrow.

"We must warm her at once, or we may yet lose her,"
said Nelwyn. They looked around for any way to accomplish this, but
there was nothing promising as they were all soaking wet from the
crossing. If only they had a dry cloak! Gaelen had stopped
shivering but was as cold as death, and her eyes were losing their
focus. This did not bode well. Then, Rogond heard a familiar sound
carried on the breeze from the north. He rose to his feet, still
holding Gaelen, and gave a loud whistle.

"Eros! Come to me, my friend! I need you!"

It was not five minutes later that the ever-faithful
Eros appeared, still bearing Rogond’s saddle-pack. Behind him rode
Galador and Fima on Réalta, and Wellyn, mounted on Gryffa. Gaelen
was saved by the devotion of her friends, for they provided dry,
warm cloaks to wrap her in as Rogond held her, rocking her gently
and speaking to her in a soft voice.

"Gaelen, my beloved, it will be all right. Your
friends are here, and no one holds you to blame. We will get
through this terrible time, my beautiful, stalwart Gaelen. I have a
plan that will trap the creature Gorgon, who has wrought so much
misery. I cannot carry it out without your help, my friend, my
love. Take strength from those who love you."

Nelwyn, Galador, Fima, and Wellyn each spoke to
Gaelen then. Wellyn took her hand and kissed it. Rogond looked into
his ageless face and saw the shock and anxiety in his clear, blue
eyes. Fima had told him everything, and it was a lot for him to
take in all at once.

Rogond handed the bundle of cloaks that was Gaelen
over to him, saying, "Take her, Wellyn, for you are dry and warm,
and can aid her better than I." The Elf looked somewhat surprised,
then appreciative, as he held Gaelen to him, his eyes closed.
Perhaps the Aridan was trustworthy after all.

They waited until Gaelen was warm and enough of her
strength had returned such that the journey back to the Elven-hold
would not tax her too much. Then they placed her in Rogond’s arms,
and Eros bore them both to the safety and comfort of the
underground fortress. Gaelen was laid in a warm chamber upon a soft
bed and given warming liquids to strengthen her. She remained
unmoving and inert until the following day. When she roused
herself, the first sight before her was the relieved face of
Rogond. His eyes were red-rimmed, and it was obvious that he had
not slept. She had not yet spoken, and as he sat by her side
holding her hand, she turned to him.

Her hand strayed to her throat, her fingers searching
for her familiar talisman, and Rogond suddenly realized that the
leather pouch containing the banner of Ri-Elathan was not there.
Had someone removed it? No, now that he thought about it, it had
not been around her neck when he had ministered to her on the
riverbank. He guessed that it must have broken free during her
tumultuous trip along the river-bottom. Evidently, Gaelen had
arrived at the same conclusion— he could see it in her eyes. She
looked lost and incomplete without it; the loss of this token
grieved her more than he could ever know. She sensed him looking at
her and withdrew her hand, attempting in vain to hide the depth of
her sorrow. After a moment, she spoke to him. "Did you mean what
you said about a plan to bring down Gorgon?" she whispered, her
voice shaky and weak.

"Yes, Beloved. I do mean it. But now we must devise a
way that we may converse without risking the chance of his knowing
our minds. Let me take your arm. I think I know a way."

She extended her arm, and he drew his fingertip
carefully across the flesh of her inside forearm in a series of
graceful curves and lines. She shook her head, frowning, then
understanding dawned, and her eyes grew wide. Of course! He was
drawing characters upon her arm—runes that were used for the
writing of lore. She smiled, and it was a sight that lifted
Rogond’s spirits beyond measure.

"Do you perceive, my love?" Gaelen nodded. "I do,"
she replied.

Then Rogond began to trace a message so that he might
be sure that she understood him.

I L-O-V-E Y-O-U L-I-T-T-L-E O-N-E.

"To whom do you refer as
little
, Aridan?" she
whispered, just before her eyes closed with weariness, and she
slept.

Rogond finally fell into sleep himself, but was
awakened after only a few hours to the sound of anguished cries. He
jerked upright and rose to his feet as he beheld Gaelen, who had
fallen to the floor and was now screaming in terror. Her eyes were
wide open, but she did not see him or anything else around her, and
he concluded that she had gone into the realm of waking dreams and
was now in the grip of a very unpleasant nightmare. He tried to
restrain her as she fought him with surprising strength, still
screaming.

"
Leave me, Dark Horror! Leave me and come no
more!"

She drove her clenched fists into her eyes, as though
trying to drive Gorgon from her. Rogond gripped her arms and lifted
her, placing her back on the soft bed, though she continued to
struggle. Her face was twisted with pain as well, as she was badly
bruised from her trip through the Narrows. Though Rogond tried not
to hurt her, it was difficult.

He spoke urgently: "Gaelen, Gaelen! Don’t be afraid.
It’s all right!" She sagged sideways, her eyes glazed, unblinking.
Then she closed them, and when she began to weep, he knew that she
had awakened. He covered her with blankets, stroking her hair and
soothing her with his voice. It took time to master herself, and he
knew that she would fight this battle time and again, probably for
a long while. Rage welled within his gentle heart, and he resolved
to arrange a council with the King as soon as he could find someone
to relieve him from the watch; he did not want to ever leave Gaelen
alone.

As if sensing his thoughts, she opened her eyes
again, and to his relief they were clear and lucid, though dark
shadows had already begun to appear around them. "It’s all right,
Rogond. The horror has passed for now, and I shall rest. Do what
you must do. I’ll be all right."

"Of course you will, but I would still see you
attended to. You are badly hurt and your strength is uncertain. I
shall go and fetch Nelwyn. Perhaps she will tell you a tale."

Gaelen nodded, as she would like that very much. She
sighed and drew the blankets around her as Rogond kissed her damp
forehead, then turned and left her. He had not been gone long when
a sudden wave of cold overtook her, and she shivered. She wondered
whether Gorgon could be the cause of it, and squeezed her eyes
tightly shut, disgusted and heartsick.

She realized that Gorgon must not find out that
anyone knew of the existence of the mirror, and so she suppressed
the urge to cry out. Her enemy would hear only silence and would
see only darkness. She was filled with loathing, desiring more than
anything to tell the vile creature of her hatred, but for now she
lay, sweat-soaked and shaking, wondering how she would ever survive
this dreadful presence, this contemptible violation of her senses.
The words of Farahin came back to her—she was to be the instrument
by which Gorgon would be vanquished.

She thought of the plight of Duinar, the Magic-user
who had tried in vain to contain the eruption of the Fire-mountain
that had destroyed Tuathas, and settled herself to her own
seemingly impossible task.

Rogond found Nelwyn soon after, as she would not go
far from her cousin until Gaelen was back on her feet. Galador was
there also, and he spoke to Rogond.

"I am ashamed, my friend. All this is my fault; I did
not know that I should not have taken the horses from Gaelen, but
if I had thought about it, I would have been wiser. I’m so terribly
sorry."

Rogond reassured him. "She had to find out, Galador.
Though I might have chosen a better time and place, she still would
not have taken it well. You are not to blame."

Nelwyn went to attend Gaelen, but Rogond stayed
Galador from accompanying her. "Nay, my friend. They need time
alone. Besides, I need you with me—you and Fima. We must go and see
the King at once, for he must know all that we can tell. And I
would bring a proposal before him."

Galador nodded, as he had expected this. Rogond had
some sort of plan to throw down Gorgon and his army before they
could threaten the Elves of the Greatwood. Galador had learned that
his friend the Aridan possessed a creative intelligence that, when
he was motivated, was extraordinary. Galador doubted that Rogond
would ever be more motivated than he was at present, and he went in
search of Fima so that they might stand before the King.

Gorgon had at last come in sight of the Barrens,
which were in fact a group of rather formidable rock formations
rising from the forest that surrounded them. Nothing grew there
aside from a few small trees and shrubs that struggled up from the
sparse, rocky soil. No traveler would venture there, and it was a
secure refuge for his army of Ulcas, who were no doubt awaiting
him. He had already crafted his response to the inevitable question
of what had befallen the two unfortunates that had accompanied him
on his foray into the Elven-realm. Indeed, he could not tell them
the truth—that his henchmen had been taken by wary Elves and that
he, Gorgon, had gone away disappointed rather than face the same
fate. They would begin to lose some of their fear of him if that
happened, and he must appear to be invincible. Gelmyr’s question of
whether he would find himself with one of their blades in his back
some dark night had already occurred to Gorgon.

Aided by the stench of the Ulcan army, Gorgon drew
near their camp, where he was greeted by Kharsh. They hailed each
other with upraised fists, then Gorgon stalked by without speaking,
for he would eat and drink and rest himself ‘ere he made any of his
tale known. Kharsh followed him, joined by several others, until at
last he sat before them in the cave that the Ulcas had designated
as their command post. He tore into the meat and bread they offered
him, still not deigning to speak. At last, Kharsh asked how the
encounter with Nelwyn had gone.

"Did you obtain satisfaction, my lord? Was the
diversion as fulfilling as you had hoped?"

Gorgon’s eyes narrowed, and he paused from his meal.
He shot an icy glare at Kharsh, who dropped his gaze, though he
knew somehow in his black heart that his commander was more
vulnerable than he appeared. "No, Kharsh, thank you for asking,"
Gorgon said in a sarcastic tone. "It was a complete waste of time,
as I sent the wrong two idiots to retrieve her for me. They were
not gentle and had difficulty with her, and she was insensible when
they brought her to me. She died quickly and in little pain. At
least I accomplished her death, but I derived little enjoyment from
it."

Then one of the Ulcas who stood by asked what had
happened to the two that had gone with Gorgon.

Gorgon set down his meal and rose to his considerable
height, a mass of taut muscle and sinew, radiating incredible
aggressive power. He faced the Ulcas, who shrank back from his
threatening glance. "Where do you
think
they are? They have
paid the price for their incompetence," he growled in a menacing
tone, a look of absolute disgust on his face. The Ulcas asked no
further questions of him.

Rogond, Fima, and Galador stood patiently in the
corridor, awaiting an audience with the Elven-king. They had been
waiting for over an hour, and Fima was growing restive.

"Do you suppose they will ever get around to letting
us in there? I do hope we don’t have to stand here much longer, as
I have never appreciated wasting my time in waiting. In
Mountain-home it used to drive me to distraction sometimes. It was
as if the Elves had all the time in the world to waste."

Galador smiled at him. "But, we
do
, Fima. When
you have lived as long as I have, you learn to be patient. Still,
your point is taken, for our friend Rogond has a matter of grave
importance to discuss. I would have thought Ri-Aruin would be a bit
more anxious to hear of it."

"You would be surprised at what goes on in the mind
of the King," said a voice from down the corridor. They turned to
observe Wellyn striding toward them, his blue-grey eyes keen and
unwavering. "How long have you been waiting?" he asked Rogond, who
replied, "not long" at the exact moment Fima said "nearly forever!"
Wellyn smiled. As with most of his people he had never been fond of
dwarves, but Fima was an obvious exception.

Wellyn glanced over at the closed, guarded door to
the King’s council-chamber. "You are here to discuss the matter of
Gorgon and the mirror, are you not?"

"Yes," Rogond replied. "I have a plan to trap him,
but I need the King’s aid. The Greatwood Realm will be at grave
risk unless we can draw him into a confrontation that he is not
ready for, before he can amass too great a force. This has been
foretold. It is this matter that most concerns Ri-Aruin, and I
would counsel with him as soon as possible, for we will need to lay
our plans quickly should he agree to aid us."