The Lord Of Lightning (Book 3) (14 page)

Iounelle had lost the Moon Sword of Berand Torler at the Battle of Byland, and now had only a plain, bronze, human forged sword. But, she was still very deadly, no matter what blade she held.

Easily side stepping the spear, Iounelle plunged her sword into the creature's chest. It hacked a dusty cough, dropped its spear and clawed at the elf.

Iounelle pushed the tall creature back as she extracted her sword. The creature seemed winded, but not slain from the vicious strike.

Iounelle whirled her blade and cut the creature's right arm clean off from the shoulder. The dark creature fell back and was still.

Iounelle and Halldora rushed to the human woman who clutched her baby.

Caerlund checked the human male.

"He's dead," Caerlund solemnly said.

"Be still and we'll bind your wounds," Halldora said to the woman. But, the dying woman thrust her baby into Iounelle's arms.

"What was that thing?" Iounelle asked.

"A ghaunt" the woman breathed heavily as Halldora tried to stop the flow of her deep wounds. "The Dark One makes them of human men who serve him. The Dark Lord wanted my child."

"Be still," Halldora cautioned the woman.

"See that my son lives," the woman clutched at Iounelle. "Make a good life for him. Fire.."

Then the human woman laid back as her breath escaped her for the last time.

The east began to warm with the herald of the rising sun. The stars began to fade into the rising blue. A glow began to emanate through the silhouette of the black trees. Iounelle stood.

"I must get to Lanis Rhyl Landemiriam before the sun rises," she said. The elf thrust the human baby into Halldora's arms. "This human child needs a human woman to care for it."

The baby began to squall and squirm, as Iounelle turned to head back to their camp and their horses.

"Should we not bury these dead?" Caerlund asked, appalled by Iounelle's callousness.

"You may if you desire," Iounelle said. "Throw the monster in the Hye. I must get to Lanis Rhyl Landemiriam before the sun rises."

Halldora and Caerlund exchanged a worried look.

"We can bury them on the way back," Halldora reassuringly said to Caerlund.

Caerlund huffed in disapproval, but the elf had already begun to stalk back through the woods. They were far enough from the camp that if they didn't follow the elf, they could easily get lost in the unfamiliar northern woods of Lanis.

Halldora, with the crying baby, and Caerlund, grumbling to himself about decency, followed after Iounelle.

"Hush that child," Iounelle said over her shoulder. "If there are any more monsters here in the forest, it will warn them."

"Let me," Caerlund said taking the infant, who cried all the more.

Iounelle stopped in anger. She strode back and pulled the child from Caerlund's arms. For an instant Caerlund worried that the elf might kill the child, she seemed so filled with darkness and seething fury.

The baby instantly quieted with the elf's touch. Iounelle looked down at the child, her expression was unreadable. She turned and began to again stride to camp, with the cooing baby nestled in her arms.

The camp was quickly broken, and all traces of their stay hidden. The three mounted their horses and proceeded to the west at an easy gallop through the woods of Lanis. The baby fell asleep nestled against Iounelle's breast.

Soon the horses were sloshing through shallow water that filled the woods.

"Are we near a river?" Halldora quietly asked Caerlund, who shook his head in confusion. As Chieftain of the people of the Madrun Hills, Caerlund had some knowledge of Lanis, being one of the few humans allowed into the domain of the elves. But Lanis seemed changed and strange to the madronite on this morning.

The sun's golden rays began to lance across the morning sky, turning the tops of the highest trees a shining gold. The day turned a bright blue, as every black shadow fled. The east was a brilliant, white beacon of warmth. Birds that had been solemnly, reluctantly greeting the new day, now burst into ever increasing choruses of urgency as if to spur the elf on.

Iounelle kicked her horse into a sprint as it splashed through water up to the beast's knees. Then Iounelle pulled her horse to a halt. Halldora and Caerlund pulled up behind her.

Iounelle's face was a study of bewilderment. She pointed to an outcropping of rock that rose above the lapping waters of a shallow shore.

"That is the remains of the Houses of the Princes," she said in confusion. Iounelle got off her horse, still holding the sleeping child. She dipped down a free hand and tasted the water.

"It's the sea," Iounelle said in sad wonder. "The sea is covering my city." Then Iounelle quickly handed the baby to Halldora. The child instantly awoke and began to cry once again.

Iounelle sloshed through the low waves to the remains of a chimney and foundations of a house that was laid waste by the invading garonds.

"This was the home of my Great Aunt Silfliette," Iounelle said to Halldora and Caerlund as they approached. "Good. The wall still stands. Here. See this hole in the wall?"

Iounelle pointed to a gap in a remaining stonewall.

"That was for Allgr," Iounelle stopped to think of a translation, but let the notion drop. "The sun on the morning of Droneldyth, Flower Day, thirty days before Lengdyth Narlime, will show the stone in the chimney to look behind."

Halldora and Caerlund exchanged a look of puzzlement.

The rising, morning sun shone a lance of light through the gap in the wall to a spot on the white cut stones of the chimney. Every stone of the chimney was cut to such precision; it would have been impossible to tell one from the other without the mark of the morning sun shining through the hole in the wall opposite. The chimney must have once been a wonder to behold with its beautiful, symmetrical, white stones, but use by the garonds had blackened and ruined the fireplace.

"There!" Iounelle cried, as she waded to the stack of weathered, mortared stones.

"What lies behind the stone?" Caerlund asked.

"My mother's ring," Iounelle said with breathlessness.

"Does it have magic power?" Halldora asked in amazement.

"The most magic of powers," Iounelle said turning with a tear filled smile. "It reminds me of my mother."

Then Iounelle froze as she laid her hand on the square, white stone. It was loose. She slowly removed the stone, and felt inside. The space was empty.

Iounelle fell to her knees in the water and wept.

Caerlund splashed to her side and threw a large arm around her shoulders.

"They took it," Iounelle said through her tears, as she looked up at Caerlund.

Halldora approached and laid a hand on Caerlund's shoulder.

Iounelle had seen the relationship building between the two humans and it filled her with a little hope. When she had announced her plan to return to her city, they both immediately volunteered to accompany her.

Iounelle stood and took the crying child from Halldora. Once again the baby immediately quieted in the elf's arms.

"This life is so filled with so much useless pain and sorrow, Caerlund, so much hurtful pettiness and spite," Iounelle said to the Chieftain of the Madrun Hills. "Perhaps this child and I should just walk off into the sea."

"Nonsense!" Caerlund boomed. He rose and surveyed the drowning, remains of the ruined elvish capital. "I remember Lanis Rhyl Landemiriam as it once was. I remember its glory. Do you think those who built this city would want us to give up? Do you think they raised this wondrous city for us to forget it? Do you think future generations, human, elf, or garond would like us to give up? Forget? Surrender? Let Deifol Hroth win?

"We have a responsibility, my elvish lass, a responsibility to all of time, to those before, to those to come, to ourselves, to fight, and win against the darkness. Yes, sometimes the despoilers win. Sometimes those we love are killed or lost. But, our will can never be defeated. Our will can never be taken. Our will can only be given if we surrender.

"I will never give my life, my mind, and my heart to the darkness. I will fight, and I know you will, too. For, you know the glory of the light, like the glory that once was a city raised by a people filled with love and kindness.

"You say your mother's ring has the power to remind you of her smile, her love, her life? Will you let that pass into the nothingness that the Dark One wants to bring?! Never!

"Love is kept in the living, and passed along to future generations. That is what we fight for, the right to remember, and be remembered; the right to love and live as we please without fear; the right to dream and shape the world for those to come. Your mother's ring may be lost or stolen, but her love is eternal and will always be with you."

Iounelle rose.

"I have let despair rule my heart for too long," Iounelle said and smiled down at the sleeping human baby in her arms.

Then as if galvanized by a thought Iounelle turned.

"Come!" She cried to Halldora and Caerlund.

The three climbed the rock outcropping that stood just above the encroaching sea, that was once the Houses of the Princes. What remained of the foundations cut into the stone was covered with lines of elvish writing carved into the rock.

Iounelle seemed to be following a certain line of script. Then she stopped.

"Here," she said pointing down at the carved stone. "Krennaupak," Iounelle said down to the rock, and then she turned to Caerlund to explain. "Armory." Iounelle held very still as she dredged up a memory from long ago. Then she brightened.

"Here," she pressed a stone, "and here." She fumbled with the baby as she pressed another part of the carving. A large, carefully hidden, rock door slowly dropped open, down to a dark cache. "We'll take only swords and shields," Iounelle said with excitement.

"Elvish swords and shields," Halldora, impressed, said to Caerlund, who returned a vicious smile and winked.

The three loaded their horses with as many weapons and shields as their horses could carry.

"We can send warriors back for more," Caerlund said.

"Do not take any of the strange weapons," Iounelle cautioned, "you'll do more damage to yourself than the enemy."

"Now let us go back and bury the babe's parents," Caerlund urged, and Iounelle nodded in approval.

"Wait!" Halldora cried, spying a glint in the water. She splashed off her horse and carefully felt under the softly lapping waves. Halldora held up a silver and gold bracelet from the silt and salt water. The bracelet was skillfully worked to resemble curling branches of a tree reaching and intertwining.

"That belonged to a friend of mine," Iounelle said with a smile. "It was made by my great uncle Weylund. Please keep it with my blessings, Halldora."

"No, No I couldn't-"

"Did you not accompany me," Iounelle said with a knowing smile, "to try to rekindle my faith in life?"

Halldora bowed her head in embarrassment.

"Please accept this as a token of my gratitude for your success," Iounelle said as she cradled the baby.

Halldora slipped the bracelet on her wrist.

"Oh, it's warm," Halldora exclaimed.

"These are the arms of Mildarilg, the world tree," Iounelle said pointing to the bracelet. "The inscription says, 'Wisdom keeps you safe always'."

The three rode out of the Drowning City through the Wood of Lanis, retracing their path to the River Hye, where Iounelle slew the ghaunt.

They rode slowly through the forest as their horses were heavily laden. The day was warmer than it had been for many moonths, and it seemed right to take in the beauty of Lanis at a slow walk. Iounelle turned to Caerlund.

"Have you ever heard the poem/song Veranelle dae Galehthaire?" The elf asked the madronite.

"No," Caerlund answered. "I would like to hear it some day. My favorite song, however, is the Ballad of Sehen."

"I knew him," Iounelle said with a smile. "The Blind Sage was welcomed and well loved in my city."

Then Iounelle grew silent, and Caerlund was sorry he had mentioned the ballad.

As their horses plodded through the forest of Lanis, Iounelle thought to herself that the woods seemed stunted and sickly. Normally, by this time of year, the elms and oaks would be lush, a full, green canopy. The scrub and bushes that usually filled out the forest floor were spindly and empty of leaves. It seemed that the whole world held its breath, waiting, waiting to see. Would light prevail, or would darkness take the whole of Wealdland?

The morning sun cast golden shafts through the scarce thicket of leaves overhead. The day was begun in earnest, and every shadow banished. But, the Wood of Lanis was uncharacteristically colorless and grim. The songs of the birds and insects, begun in earnest in the morning, now dwindled to sparse twitters. A heavy quiet hung over the forest.

Even the birds have no songs of hope or cheerfulness, Iounelle sorrowfully thought to herself, as they plodded on through the eerily quiet woods, to the River Hye.

The babe in her arms slept with a peaceful smile of serenity.