The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor (4 page)

Not willing to endure further torment, Gildan
took leave of the others and approached the boulder where he and
Randor had stood earlier that same night. The Obinoth army stayed
at Randor's side, grieving.

What could have been done
to prevent this?
Gildan pondered.
Could the Council not foresee this before it happened?
He crossed his arms and paced aimlessly about, blocking out
his surroundings as he continued to beat his soul with questions he
could never answer. Telsar and Faragen approached unnoticed and
stood at attention. Gildan glared over his shoulder and returned to
his inner quandary.

"Do you want us to set camp here tonight,
sir?" Telsar asked.

Gildan nodded slowly. "Try and get as much
rest as possible, for we must be in haste for Obinoth. There is no
doubt you and your soldiers are needed there. I have business
someplace else--yet where is still not known to me. I have the
feeling someone will need my help."

"Yes, sir," Telsar responded, quickly
returning to the collection of the army.

"Do we take Randor to Obinoth or to
Mudalfaen?" Faragen asked.

"Neither, my friend," Gildan answered. "There
were some caverns to the west within Erogd. In three days time we
will place his body in a cave and cover its entrance. Randor dearly
loved Londor--so we shall give him the world as his tomb. He would
have wanted it this way."

"As you wish," Faragen said.

Gildan returned his gaze to the troubled
heavens and sighed. The wind changed direction and grew bitterly
cold and the temperature plummeted. It was strange to feel this,
especially in midst summer. "This is, indeed, Londor's greatest
downfall," Gildan whispered.

Chapter Two: A Troubled City

Two miserable months had passed since the
vanishing of the moon, Beldas, and with each new sunrise Londor
fell ever closer to ruin. Not even the wisest could see the
terrible ending of the world, nor even how much longer life would
carry on. Though the races of men and dwarvenkind did not
physically feel the oncoming downfall, the world around them was
slipping away nonetheless. Wizards of all races lost most of their
abilities, so that even the simplest of spells were all but
impossible to conjure.

Both the Vinar elves, the most common elves
in the world of Londor, and high elves felt the absence of mana and
were forced to endure continuous pain and sadness day in and day
out, and though the Council of Mudalfaen was painfully aware of the
world's troubles, not even their collective wisdom could make a
whit of difference for the many allies in their care. Shortly after
the disappearance of Beldas, all communication among the Mudalfaen
alliances ceased as every kingdom sealed off its borders and
remained in a state of high alert at all times. Those who wandered
the lands found themselves subject to arrest and persecution,
particularly at night when the true chaos of weather and sorrow
came. Everyone was now suspect in the moon's disappearance--the
greatest tragedy in Londor's history. Every soldier, knight, and
wizard labored days and nights on end to protect the world around
them, and kings, queens, princelings, and high councils throughout
the land made every effort to keep their citizens at home during
this time of crisis, allowing no one to leave without strict
approval.

The elven valley of Dunane saw the collapse
soonest. Though the days still graced them with mostly pleasant
weather, come nightfall, dark clouds swept in just after sunset.
The gloomy formations hung low, accompanied by frigid winds and
dense fog. On many nights, great storms beat down on the valley as
thunder and lightning cracked overhead.

Dunane's capital, Norganas, was held prisoner
to nature, and all hope lay out of reach. Each night was
anticipated with dread.

In the city's chief observation tower, rising
above the southern wall, two elf-knights stood watch on the top
level. It was from this high structure of white stone that they
kept watch over the vast forest to the south, as far as elven eyes
could see. The two pulled their newly acquired cloaks closer to
their bodies, huddling close together to keep warm, but it was of
little good. Rain poured down in great sheets, and cracks of
lightning lit the landscape as if it were day, and whenever the
rain let up, dark fog enveloped the entire valley. The constant
winds from the south, undeterred by the forest, howled through the
city and swept over the Mondranos Mountains to the north and
west.

A sudden blast of wind knifed through the
narrow opening of the watchtower, stinging the two elves' pale
faces.

"I swear, Captain Fenrahn, if this weather
persists, it will be the end of me!" young Etrigos cried. He
clenched his chattering teeth and gazed out at the bleak world
around him. "I honestly cannot tell you how many nights it has been
the same."

"Fourteen," Fenrahn replied mildly. "Fourteen
straight, to be exact." He remained at the opening as Etrigos
retreated to the center of the circular room and stationed himself
by the hole in the wooden floor, where a ladder led down to the
many levels below.

"We need furs for this climate."

"And where do you expect King Zelok to obtain
these?" asked Fenrahn. "I can tell you we have none in
storage."

"But these cloaks are useless!" Etrigos
moaned.

"We'll all just have to make do."

"I'd much rather be inside, sitting next to a
roaring fire alongside my brothers. I wager they are feasting as
usual on this evil evening."

"Just as the rest of the valley feasts within
the warmth of their homes."

"I envy them, Captain."

Fenrahn sighed but did not move from the
observation portal. "Our duty will be done with the coming of the
sun."

"Still, I do not understand why you, sir, are
made to stand watch over the city--you rank above us all."

"I don't wish to be locked away in the
palace, dealing with parchments and politics." Fenrahn turned and,
with a tired smile, said, "I take this time to train my knights and
pass along my teachings firsthand."

"When I am made Captain of the Order,"
Etrigos began with his head held high, "I will gladly stay inside
the palace." He laughed, but Fenrahn was not amused. He cleared his
throat. "Sorry, sir."

Fenrahn shook his head and returned his gaze
to the forest. "You have much to learn."

Etrigos gathered his frozen courage and
approached the window. The captain stood three inches taller than
he, though both were of the same build and wore precisely the same
attire: the brown jacket of the knights of Dunane, with brown
trousers tucked into knee-high leather boots. Both elves wore their
hair tied back in ponytails, Etrigos having silvery hair while
Fenrahn's was that of gold. The cloaks were the newest addition to
their wardrobe, so that nothing distinguished Fenrahn from the rest
of his order save the silver tassel that hung on his chest,
denoting his rank.

"I am surprised by this dangerous situation,"
Etrigos said, "that King Zelok has not authorized us to arm
ourselves with swords or spears."

"I believe that our master remains of a mind
with his ancestors. Our people have not known conflict for eighty
years. After the Great War, that was the end of our struggles."
Fenrahn considered himself blessed not to have experienced that
dark time. "But rest assured, Etrigos, we have weaponry if the
occasion calls for it."

Fenrahn closed his eyes and leaned against
the stone wall. Above his head blazed one of the four torches
mounted in the stones, lighting the room but dimly. The captain
appreciated the warmth of the fire, and it relaxed him for the
moment. "Mudalfaen has ensured our peace for the past eight
decades." He paused. "I only wish some of our allies could share in
Dunane's harmony. Many are still afflicted by petty skirmishes.
Alas, those who once knew peace now share the same problems as
those who knew it not. All of Mudalfaen's allies are falling victim
to the same downfall. Peace has escaped us."

"I still hold on to faith," said Etrigos. "We
shall be saved."

The young elf's spirit seemed to help Fenrahn
keep what little hope he had left. "I can tell you this," Fenrahn
replied. "When we received word of Randor Miithra's death, Dunane
fell into great despair. Many say that if a Randor could not endure
this unbalance, what hope do elves possess?"

"That was a tragic day, Captain. Though I
never saw the Great Servant, I have heard the countless stories of
his deeds and shall miss him nonetheless."

"So shall we all, my friend….His legend will
carry on." Fenrahn drew in a deep breath of cold air.

It was clear to Etrigos that the captain was
not well, and naturally, Etrigos felt concerned for his beloved
officer.

"Are you hungry, sir?"

"No," replied Fenrahn softly. "I have lost my
appetite, I am afraid. No longer can I enjoy the foods provided to
us."

"Can I get you some wine, perhaps? Maybe that
will help."

"No, Etrigos." He looked over to the worried
elf and gave a faint smile. "If you need food or drink, please feel
free to take a short leave."

"What of the watch?"

"What of it?"

"I fear to leave, in case something should
happen…"

"I doubt anything will occur in your short
absence." Fenrahn laughed quietly. "I even doubt anything will
occur this night, or the next."

"We can never be too certain."

"Right you are, but those who travel under
nightfall are quickly seized now. Every kingdom is overprotected. I
believe we are safe in this high state of alert."

"I pray you are right."

"You were inquiring about food, were you
not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, off you go, then."

Etrigos saluted and said, "Right away,
Captain." He was newly invested in knighthood and not yet
comfortable with rest and respite. Fenrahn shook his head and
gestured for the knight to leave.

"See you shortly."

Before Etrigos set off, some impulse turned
his eyes to the ground before the forest. Slowly his view scrolled
up the dirt path that connected Norganas to the forest. Up the hill
his silver eyes traveled as the cold air stung him. As fate would
have it, a bright blue flash of lightning banished the darkness.
"Captain!" Etrigos yelped.

Fenrahn bolted upright. "What is it?"

"There are riders on the road, sir!"

"Impossible." Fenrahn did not accept what he
heard. He thought the elements present played with the young
knight's mind.

 
"No, sir! I saw two on horseback,
just outside the forest!"

 
"One would have to be mad to ride
in this weather." Fenrahn moved the shaking Etrigos from the window
and stared into the darkness. "I see nothing."

 
"My eyes do not deceive me,
Captain….At least, I hope they do not."

 
"Incoming?"

 
"Yes. They ride for the
city."

 
"Only two, you say?"

 
"Thus far. But there could be
hundreds out there--or even thousands in our forest."

 
"Do not let your mind run away,
Etrigos."

 
"I cannot help it,
sir."

 
"Were the riders of
elvenkind?"

"They were concealed by cloaks…I could not
see their faces." Etrigos pulled on Fenrahn's clothing in
desperation. "We must inform the palace at once!"

"Not just yet," Fenrahn replied as he trained
his eyes on the unlit path. "We could be imprisoned and stripped of
rank if we give false alarm. I do not know about you, my friend,
but I value my placing in Dunane."

"As do I, Captain."

"Then we must be patient."

"Patience is something I have yet to
learn."

"Then let tonight be your lesson."

Another great flash of blue revealed the road
once more, and now Fenrahn could see the two riders, paused on the
path, their intentions unknown. "There, you see?" Etrigos
breathed.

"Yes, Etrigos. Quite right you are." The
captain turned away from the window and said softly, "Keep close
watch on their actions."

Etrigos nodded and obeyed, leaving Fenrahn to
debate with himself what to do. Only he and Etrigos knew of this
potential threat. "From what I saw," Fenrahn began, "one was tall
and slender and the other was shorter in stature…perhaps
humans."

"I could not tell, honestly," Etrigos
offered. All thought of nourishment was gone, and nothing could
peel his eyes away from the ground below. The forest was a little
more than a mile away from Norganas, up a steep hill. It put the
riders too close to home for Etrigos's liking. In a chain of brief
flashes of lightning, Etrigos noticed movement from one of the
riders. "Captain, one has drawn a blade!"

Do they mean to attack
us?
Fenrahn asked himself.
What purpose do they have for Dunane?

"What shall we do, sir?"

"We await their next movement."

* * *

The journey through the immense forest was
not an easy task for the two riders. Their mission was all haste,
and secrecy was of the essence in this, their fifth straight day of
hard riding. As they had drawn ever nearer to Dunane from the
southwest, nightfall became worse with each sunset. Clouds darker
than the heavens loomed low, and rain beat down heavily on their
cloaks. Both worried of being captured by the kingdoms they rode
through. The cruel elements of nature held Dunane captive, making
the valley's forest a nightmare for maneuvering. And not just the
weather barred the way, but also many fallen trees and mighty
boulders that lay as if scattered by some giant hand.

Neither rider had ventured into this elven
realm before, and no real plan had been formulated for reaching
their destination slower than they expected. Just when the lead
horseman thought the worst was behind them, the paths grew more
twisted than ever, making speed impossible. Trusting his rattled
senses, the leader eventually headed up a steep and narrow
road.