Elayeen

By GJ Kelly

Book Six of The Longsword Chronicles.

With the Orbquest bound for Calhaneth, Elayeen is left alone but for her friends in Tarn. Ancient compulsions inflicted by Sword and Circle still demand to be heard, and spies are everywhere. Hunted by Morloch and by a Toorseneth bent on vengeance for the loss of the Sceptre and the return of the Sight, Elayeen flees Tarn, hoping to draw her enemies from her friends, and hoping her enemies will expend what resources they possess in a fruitless search for the Queen of Raheen.

With only Meeya and Valin for company, Elayeen embarks on the journey south, a journey which, she believes, will end with her facing the single most important decision of her life.

But the warnings of elder times should never be ignored. Elayeen is riding into dangers far greater than those she fled in Tarn, and the path she has chosen can only lead to the end of Elayeen Rhiannon Seraneth ní Varan Raheen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GJ Kelly
• Release date: Oct 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301898411

GJ Kelly

GJ Kelly was born near the white cliffs of Dover, England, in 1960. He spent a significant part of his early life in various parts of the world, including the Far East, Middle East, the South Atlantic, and West Africa. Later life has seen him venture to the USA, New Zealand, Europe, and Ireland. He began writing while still at school, where he was president of the Debating Society and won the Robb Trophy for public speaking. He combined his writing with his technical skills as a professional Technical Author and later as an internal communications specialist. His first novel was "A Country Fly" and he is currently writing a new Fantasy title.He engages with readers and answers questions at:http://www.goodreads.com/GJKelly and also at https://www.patreon.com/GJ_Kelly

Book preview

Prologue

When mihoth Gawain and I were throth-bound, I saw in him a darkness lurking as a shadow might, fearful of the brilliance of his light yet thriving on it. But not all darkness is to be feared, and his, on occasion, gives him the strength to do what must be done. I knew it would give him the strength to return to me, just as it gave him the strength to trespass Elvenheth and Faranthroth to claim me for his own. He is the Deed, after all. It is as well our throth was broken, I think; without small secrets between lovers, there can be no mystery, and without mystery, no wonder. And sometimes, without larger secrets, deeds which need to be done might not be.

Her Royal Majesty Thalin-Elayeen Rhiannon Seraneth ní Varan Raheen, as told to the Bard-Chronicler Lyssa of Callodon

1. Farewells

Elayeen struggled to maintain her composure, her arms and her cloak wrapped tightly about herself, watching as Gawain rode slowly across Tarn Square, Allazar beside him, Reesen of ‘Heth and the dwarf, Ognorm, close behind. Her throat tightened, and though she told herself it was the chill northern wind on a bleak and blustery December morning making her eyes water, she knew it was a lie.

Gawain didn’t look back. None of them did. Which was as it should be.

Come inside, in the warm, Merrin smiled sadly, but Elayeen shook her head, silver-blonde braid and tresses breaking free of her cloak’s hood and whipping about her face in the gusts.

In a moment, Lady Merrin, she said, I would watch him until he is beyond my sight.

Merrin understood, and nodded, and with her husband, Rak, left the three elves standing by the front door.

You should have told him, Meeya said quietly, speaking in their own language, although no-one was nearby who could possibly overhear them.

What would you have me tell him, Meeya? Elayeen replied. He goes where I cannot, and that is painful enough. Would you have me add even more weight to his burden, and to my own?

You could at least have told him about Reesen, my lady, Meeya chided gently.

Ask your husband how he would feel, Meeya, were he my king and I were to tell him of Reesen of ‘Heth, and why I chose him as escort.

I am no horse-king of Raheen, miThalin, Valin said softly, My feelings are surely far removed from those of Thal-Gawain. They cannot compare.

Elayeen blinked, and summoned the Sight. It was so much easier now she was master of it. A blink and a thought and the world was seen anew, living things glowing against a grey backdrop of faint shapes, gingerbread men and gingerbread animals in a sea of mist.

Gawain still shone brightest of all, by far, though she noted with a curious detachment that they were all bright, the wizard, the elf and the powerfully-built dwarf Gawain had named in Eryk’s Hall. Brighter than the lights she could see glowing faintly inside the Inn, the hostelry named after her king in the days when all in the lowlands, even she herself, knew the King of Raheen as ‘Traveller.’ Before the world knew him as Longsword, or DarkSlayer.

She watched until those lights faded beyond her range, and then with a sigh, she blinked away the Sight of the Eldenelves, and lowered her head. She was alone now, alone with her duty, a duty which at times seemed to cling to her like the tendrils of Faranthroth, dragging her into the earth, dragging her from life itself.

He will return, Meeya asserted, nodding sternly. If there is any one of mankind who can return from that place to you, it is he. Never shall I forget the day he trespassed Elvenheth…

Do not speak the words he uttered, Meeya, please, Elayeen interrupted, softly, but with desperation. I could not bear to hear them, not this day. Not now he is gone beyond my sight and beyond recall.

Meeya nodded, dark eyes wide with concern. He’ll return, Leeny. He will.

Elayeen nodded, and wiped her eyes again, and took a small handkerchief from her sleeve to blow her nose. The gusts of freezing northern air, of course, making her nose and eyes stream.

Will you both come in, at least for a while?

A short while, miThalin, Valin announced, as formal as he always was when duty was foremost in his mind. We must soon begin our patrols, and the duty roster must be compiled.

What if it’s all just stories, Leeny? Meeya blurted, What if the stories told by old women are just that, stories told by old women? What if there is no Merionell?

Then it is still too late to recall my king and tell him anything you would have him know, Meeya. Besides, do you really think the Toorseneth would have sent the Sceptre to destroy me if it were all just stories told by old women? They will not rest until all of us are dead, or until they are.

Meeya held her gaze a moment longer, as if searching for hope. Then she blinked, and wiped away a tear of her own. Elayeen reached out to take her friend’s hand.

Come, some hot wine before you and ihoth must return to the barracks. Valin is chafing to return to his duty.

It is precisely because I know the reasons why the Sceptre was sent for you that I chafe to return to my duty, miThalin. We are few now, here in all Threlland, and all of us must remain alert for agents of the Toorseneth as well as for whatever dark reprisals Morloch sends against these lands.

I know, Valin. I wasn’t chiding you.

No, miThalin. I was chiding you.

Meeya shot a stern glance at her husband, who remained unmoved.

I mean to remain here in Lady Merrin’s house, Elayeen said softly. I know your concerns, Valin, and I do appreciate them. But Lord Rak of Tarn is one of the first friends mihoth encountered in the lowlands during his banishment, and I will not shame him by hiding in the barracks of the Tarn Guard until G’wain’s return from Calhaneth.

If mihoth had his way you’d be locked in a tower in Threlland’s Crownmount surrounded by the entire ninety-five, day and night, Meeya announced, and though her tone was light-hearted there was more than a grain of truth in her words.

Winter wine in a warm kitchen, and the common tongue, come, I command it, Elayeen did her best to smile, but that had been difficult for a long time now.

In the warmth of Merrin’s kitchen, the toddler Travak burbled happily and pushed his three-legged toy horse across the floor in the heat from the fire and the range, and Merrin herself poured hot breakfast wine into three ornate silver cups while the elves sat.

Thank you, Elayeen said softly. She gave up the attempt at a smile and instead sipped the steaming spiced beverage.

You know you’re both welcome to stay, Merrin smiled hopefully at Meeya and Valin, With the wizard gone the room is vacant again and you would be most welcome.

Thank you, Lady Merrin, Meeya nodded her head politely, But we really must return. In the absence of Thal-Gawain, it is our duty to watch over his lady and his friends, until he returns and can do so himself.

Well, the room will doubtless stay vacant until their homecoming, so you know you may make use of it at any time. I’ll take this happy little fellow to pester his father in the living-room, and leave you together in peace to warm up.

When they were alone, warming their hands on the cups, it was Meeya who broke the silence, and because they were alone, in elvish.

Travak is indeed a happy little boy. I doubt he will ever know how close these lands came to disaster.

He will learn in time, Elayeen sighed, knowing Rak’s appreciation of history and diplomacy. His father will teach him, one day.

They celebrated as though the war had ended, Valin grumbled quietly. And some of them still do. The Major, Sarek, is a good officer though. He keeps reminding his Rangers of the need for vigilance. I like him.

G’wain likes him, too, Elayeen said softly, gazing into the fireplace. He said Major Sarek had learned well the lessons of the Barak-nor, and was building a commendable force.

True, Valin conceded, Though far too small in numbers for a land with such geography and borders as this.

They are doing their best, Valin, Meeya chided. And with your help, will do better. With the great chasm in the north, the threat to these lands now comes only from the west.

Morloch’s servants have wings with which to cross that chasm.

And we have the Sight with which to see them approaching should they do so, Meeya retorted.

Hush, Elayeen whispered. You two argue like an old married couple.

Valin sniffed, and took a sip of his wine. Not that old, he mumbled into his cup.

Meeya seemed suddenly alarmed again, and almost blurted her question: Do you think the Toorseneth would travel to the far south, if they learned of Thal-Gawain’s quest? Do you think even they would trespass there, after so long?

I don’t know, Elayeen frowned. The Sutengard had made it as far as the first great Wheel when we encountered them on the canal. Neither they nor the Toorseneth’s soolen lapdog could operate the Wheel, and all of them were happy not to have to travel any further south than they already had.

Then perhaps they’ll cower in their tower and heed the old taboos, Meeya asserted, nodding as if to strengthen her own convictions.

It was they who enforced the taboo on journeying south of the Wheel, Elayeen reminded them, and then took a deep breath. Besides, there are no elves abroad in these lands but we three and the remainder of the ninety-five. How is the Toorseneth to learn of Thal-Gawain’s quest?

How did they ever learn of anything that happened at home or abroad? Valin said softly. They have spies everywhere.

Then it’s as well so few of us know G’wain’s destination, and the nature of the thing he seeks. And it must remain thus.

And it shall, miThalin, here at least. But who can speak for Juria, or Callodon?

The ninety-five watch in all lands, Valin, for the Toorsencreed as well as for Morloch’s agents. We must trust in ourselves, now more than ever.

And the people of these eastern lands? Do we trust in them, now that the Battle of Far-gor is over?

Elayeen stared into her cup, the wine rich and dark. At Far-gor, the world had stood together once more, side by side against an enemy of dread power and dread numbers. And the world had prevailed. It shouldn’t have been, she knew it in her bones, the battle should never have taken place. She knew it, in spite of Allazar’s insistence that it was impossible to deduce the Shitheen’s intentions so long after they placed the Morgmetal spike in the tunnel beneath the farak gorin.

Now, though, the battle was over. The survivors had stood behind the ninety-five when the Toorsencreed had desecrated the battlefield spewing bile and threatening death. That gesture of solidarity had been immensely powerful at the time, and still sent shivers down her spine whenever she recalled it.

But now, the battle was over, survivors returned home, celebrations held and peace embraced with hope. The ninety-five were scattered from Tarn to Callodon. Thallanhall had abandoned all lands east of Elvendere, leaving them to stand alone against Morloch. It wouldn’t take long before those who’d never worn the symbol of the Kindred Army forgot Far-gor, and remembered instead Elvendere’s betrayal.

We must be circumspect, she replied, her tone measured. And we must remain true to our oaths to Gawain.

And the Merionell?

I still have time before I need to make that decision, Valin. We are a long way from summer.

With luck, Meeya said, News of Thal-Gawain’s success in the south will arrive before then…

Elayeen felt another small bubble of sorrow swelling in her throat. It will make no difference, Meeya. Whether he lives to return to me, or dies in the attempt, it will make no difference to the Merionell, and the decision I must make.

Valin drained his cup, uncomfortable in sight of Elayeen’s distress. He always was, she knew that. Meeya had told her often enough that Valin was dyed-in-the-wool Thalangard; you can take the officer of out Elvendere, but you can’t take Elvendere out of the officer. He viewed any distress on Elayeen’s part as a failure of duty on his.

Ihoth is anxious to get back to barracks, Meeya, you should go. It was kind of you both to escort me this morning.

It would have been unkind to Reesen to allow him to escort you alone, Meeya said softly, and drained her cup.

Even so. It is Reesen’s love for me which made him the only possible choice as Gawain’s escort from all of us who remained here in Threlland.

Elayeen stood, and in so doing, granted Meeya and Valin the opportunity to leave. She walked with them to the door, waited while they bade farewell to Rak and Merrin, then watched them as they rode away across the square, leaving Tarn for the eastern barracks.

Back in the warmth of the house, she removed her cloak and hung it behind the door of their room. Her room, she corrected herself. Nothing remained here of Gawain, nothing save memories of their first days and nights together, and their last. She closed the door softly, and lay on the bed, drawing a pillow to her, hugging it tightly. And as she had so often of late, she wept silent tears until her breaking heart relented, and she slept.

oOo

2. Sharp Things

I don’t know how you did it, Merrin sighed, breath pluming in the frosty morning air.

How we did what? Elayeen frowned, a little confused by the question.

They were standing alone together in Arramin’s Cabin at the Point, overlooking the farak gorin and its immense and still nameless river gorge, both young ladies wrapped against the cold, the tips of their noses already glowing.

"How you did it. How you remained so steadfast, down there, in the face of such an immense enemy. How you fought beside them all… Merrin’s voice faltered a little. I don’t think I would have had the courage. I think I would’ve been useless, down there."

Elayeen shook her head. G’wain told me of the night he met you and lord Rak, and the attack upon your caravan in the darkest of hours. You were an expectant mother then, and would have slaughtered the brigands single-handed to protect your unborn child had others not relieved you of the necessity. And there’s a plaque set in the floor of the Traveller’s Rest to mark the spot where that treacherous wizard Joyen died. I remember standing beside you there, and you with your dagger poised.

Merrin sighed again. Yet it was your dagger buried in the wizard’s throat, not mine.

Lord Rak stepped in front of you to strike at the traitor.

D’you remember it so clearly, then? For me, it’s a blur, and one I’ve tried hard to forget.

I remember it as clearly as though it were yesterday. It was the day the fog of throth cleared from miheth’s mind, and he was himself, and we were truly together. We walked in the gardens, while General Karn and you and lord Rak remained at the inn, to prepare Threlland’s defences.

It was easy for me to be brave there at the inn, surrounded as I was by warriors and facing only a single threat. Down there, you stood against thousands. Merrin shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the chill winter breezes.

It was easy for me to be brave down there, Elayeen smiled, giving Merrin back her own words, I was surrounded by warriors too, and G’wain was beside me, as were many of my friends.

Well. I still don’t know how you did it. And I hope I never have to find out what it is to face such dread.

So do I. War is no place for mothers. They have enough dread to face as it is; every cough and sneeze, bump, scrape, cut, and cry in the night from their infants.

Merrin turned to bestow a quizzical gaze upon her friend, and there was a hint of excitement in her voice when she asked: Is there something you’re not telling me, Elayeen?

Elayeen considered the question a moment, but summer was still far in the distance. No, it’s not what you think. Just something my own mother taught me long ago when she found my brother Gan and I playing with wooden swords. She didn’t like me fighting.

But you were a tomboy?

Not really. My brother was destined to rule a province, and he of course was expected to learn all manner of warrior’s arts. He needed someone to practice with, and I was convenient.

Ah. Boys are the same everywhere, it seems.

Elayeen smiled, childhood memories pressing to the fore. It is law in our land that all elves must begin practice with the bow from five years of age. I believe I’ve mentioned this before?

Yes, before you all left for Kings’ Council in Ferdan. It seems so long ago, now.

Well, the bow is one thing, swords and knives quite another. It was my brother who insisted I learn how to play with sharp things, and as we both grew older, and perhaps a little wiser, our practicing became rather more serious. Even my mother relented. I think she knew that one day, such skills as I learned from Gan and the thalangard might be needed. Much later in life it was a good excuse for me to visit Gan in his province, and to escape unwanted attentions from would-be suitors in Elvenheth.

And perhaps to deter such attentions? Merrin smiled.

Elayeen grinned a little sheepishly. I may have intimidated one or two, here and there.

Good for you.

They shared a gentle silence for a few moments, and then Elayeen felt a familiar, wistful warmth flowing through her.

I don’t think G’wain will ever truly understand how profoundly he altered the course of my life. The night I first saw him was for me like the falling of the farak gorin. My world changed forever, in ways he cannot begin to imagine.

I don’t think the wisest of wizards have the faintest idea how much the course of the world has been changed by Gawain of Raheen.

No. Though I have no doubt that Morloch does, Elayeen shivered and drew her cloak tighter, eyeing the distant mountains in the north with a sense of deep foreboding. He thought himself safe, once Raheen had been destroyed. Safe and invincible. He will never forgive G’wain for vexing him so.

Merrin turned a little to study Elayeen’s face, expecting perhaps to see concern for Gawain in those hazel-green eyes, and perhaps fear for his safety etched on that gentle face. Instead she saw fierce pride, and intense determination, as though the young elfin possessed a powerful weapon and was waiting for the perfect moment to unleash it. Then the expression was gone, and Merrin saw sorrow and love framed by silver-blonde hair and the hood of Elayeen’s cloak.

You do know he’ll come back to you, don’t you, Elayeen?

She nodded. He promised. If he is able.

Of course he will be. To consider for a moment anything else is just our own cruel imagination. At night, whenever Rak is away from home, my mind reels, and often conjures all kinds of terrible fates, torturing me with appalling visions of the death of those I love. I’ve always been too frightened to speak of it to Rak, lest he believe me mad, or worse. There are still some people who believe dreams a kind of prophecy, foretelling but one of many possible futures. Do you have such dread imaginings, in the twilight moments before sleep?

Elayeen nodded again. He has only been gone a week now, and already it feels like a lifetime. But I need no cruel imagination to fuel night-terrors, I know what awaits him at Calhaneth. I was there, the first time, and though shielded from the worst of it, still I recall the horror of the place. Wizard Arramin’s discovery in the vaults beneath Crownmount has done nothing to ease my mind.

A week already? Time is racing by. You see? He’ll be back before you know it.

They’ll not yet have reached Juria’s Hall, Elayeen sighed, shaking her head and trying to smile. Then a noise from outside the cabin, from the path behind it, drew her attention, and her pupils snapped shut, summoning the Sight.

Two dull gingerbread men, glowing with a dim light, walking up the well-trodden path to the cabin. She didn’t recognise either of them from their shapes or from their gait, and they were men, not dwarves of Threlland. Merrin sensed Elayeen’s alarm, and stepped slightly away from her, fingers unconsciously finding and thus confirming the presence of the jewelled dagger Rak insisted she carry always, ever since that night on the plains when first they’d met Gawain.

Elayeen too shifted a little further away from the rear wall of the cabin, and slipped her right hand behind her back under her cloak to find reassurance in the leather-bound hilt of the elven huntsman’s blade she carried there. Merrin gave a quiet snort of a nervous giggle, and grinned at their foolishness as booted heels crunched along the path to their right. Then two cloaked men, unremarkable of clothing and appearance, stepped forward into sight in front of the cabin, gazing at the spectacle to the north, neither of them noticing the two young ladies now standing quietly in the cabin behind them.

There it is! the shorter gasped, The great gorge, just as they described at the inn!

It is immense!

It’s as though the weight of the Dragon’s Teeth has cracked the world, and all things north shall break off and fall!

Merrin relaxed, and with a smile for Elayeen, announced, Good morning.

The two men turned as one, abruptly.

My ladies! The taller exclaimed, You startled us, caught up as we were in the reverie of our sight-seeing! Forgive us for disturbing you both, and good morning to you!

Aye, good morning! The shorter bowed politely. We are merchants out of Juria, come to Tarn hoping to take advantage of early trade now that war is thankfully but a memory. The innkeeper and his friends spoke of this place and the spectacle to be had from the heights here, and so we came.

All the while, the two men eased nearer, until they were almost within the cabin. And all the while, beneath her cloak, Elayeen gripped the hilt of her knife, thumb pressing against the cross-guard. Whether through instinct or her promise to Gawain always to remain watchful, she could not say, but the two strangers seemed far removed from other merchants who’d visited Tarn the previous winter. And they seemed far too tense and excited for simple sightseers.

But we’re disturbing your morning, my ladies, the taller man smiled, eyes narrowing, And can return later this afternoon.

Yes, we shall leave you to the peace of the morning, the shorter of the two beamed, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

There is really no need, Merrin began, taking a step towards them, and as she did, the short man lunged forward, catching hold of her by the shoulders and jerking her around, a powerful arm sliding around her neck, pinning her head back against a broad and stocky chest.

Elayeen’s cloak billowed open, the double-edged hollow-ground knife with its wicked trailing point clutched firmly in her right hand, her left releasing the clasp of the heavy garment and flinging it aside as the tall man stepped forward drawing his own long knife. Its blade glistened bright in the morning sunshine, the steel well-oiled.

The short man dragged Merrin back, out of the cabin towards the Razorwing fence and its halberds, leaving the area clear for his comrade to do his work.

Greetings from your friends in the tower, and farewell, or so I’m told to say, the tall man grinned, crouching and waving his knife this way and that, and though Elayeen summoned the Sight, he kept his gaze low, staring at her neck or chest while they circled each other, each waiting for an opening.

The Sight would not avail her, she knew, unless the would-be assassin looked her in the eye. Worse, using the Sight meant she couldn’t see his eyes or the long knife he held with practiced ease. Her pupils snapped open, and she studied her attacker, her knife held motionless before her, arm crooked at the elbow, ready to stab with a lunge, or to slash in any direction. Elayeen had the advantage of the Sight of the Eldenelves, and clearly her attacker knew it. He’d obviously been instructed to avoid eye contact, and that had put him on the defensive as soon as he’d seen the weapon in her hand. He obviously hadn’t been expecting resistance of any kind.

Watch the eyes, Elayeen, always, and you will know when and you will know where the attack will come.

Is that what the Luminar of the ‘Hethgard told you, Gan?

It is what the Luminar of the ‘Hethgard taught Reesen, who taught me while you were out paddling your feet in the fountain with Meeya...

Outside, the short man rasped a warning in Merrin’s ear. Don’t struggle, dwarflady, we’re not here for you. Hold yer peace and you won’t be harmed!

You’re choking me! Merrin gasped, gazing at the spectacle unfolding before her in the cabin, and with her left hand, she heaved on the powerful arm across her neck.

With her right, though, she drew the bejewelled dagger, and thrust it down and behind her, plunging it deep into the man’s right thigh. At the very moment he cried out, she slammed her head backwards into his face, once, twice, three times, driving back with her booted heels thrusting into the stony ground beneath them.

Tall man heard his comrade cry out in pain, and twitched. Instantly, Elayeen’s right arm shot forward like a snake striking, and elven steel sliced the thin and delicate skin on the inside of his right wrist. Tall man lunged forward, thrusting with the long knife, but Elayeen parried it easily and danced back two paces…

Outside, Short man, his nose and front teeth broken and right thigh burning, relaxed his grip on Merrin, who broke free and whirled, enraged, to watch as he staggered backwards, lost his footing and fell. Merrin glared down at him, all anger.

Dwarfbitch! Short man cried, spitting blood and a broken tooth, and drew an evil-looking double-edged billhook from under his cloak…

In the cabin, Tall man grimaced and hastily transferred his long knife to his left hand, noting the blood pulsing from his gaping right wrist where Elayeen’s stop-cut had neatly sliced it open. He felt no pain, and that drew his gaze to her blade, and its well-honed edges.

Sharp, isn’t it, Elayeen announced, softly, eyes still fixed on her attacker’s and noting the direction of his gaze. Little boys shouldn’t play with sharp things.

I’ll bleed you, bitch-elf! I’ll bleed you out here and now!

But the fool in his shock and rising anger forgot the warning he’d been given, and the snarled threat and grimace that twisted his features brought his eyes up. Few there are who can utter a threat without a stare into their enemy’s eyes, unless that threat is hollow and made over a shoulder while running low and fast away. Elayeen pinned him with the Sight in an instant, and held him there…

Now ye’ve done it! Short man shouted, Now ye’ve done it, dwarfbitch! It was the she-elf we come for, now it’s your blood Billblade will taste!

Merrin glowered at Short man, the blood smearing his face and pumping from his nose removing all trace of humanity from the assassin, while the glittering hilt of her dagger jutting from his thigh reminded her who she was and the unbelievable enormity of his offence against a niece of the Crown. She took two paces to her left, wrenched a halberd from the Razorwing fence with sudden and improbable strength, turned, and without hesitation drove it clean through Short man’s chest as he struggled, wide-eyed, to get to his feet.

In the cabin, Elayeen stepped forward, closing the gap between her and her paralysed attacker. Tall man’s features were frozen in horror, a dark stain spreading at the front of his trousers.

"Greetings to you and your friends in the tower, she said quietly, And farewell." And with that, she drove the tip of her knife up through his stomach and into his heart, watching with the Sight as the dim light of his life faded, and was gone.

As Tall man’s body fell backwards to the ground, she snapped her eyes wide, and swivelled her head to look at Merrin, seeing the gentle dwarven lady driving Short man flat onto his back and thrusting the point of the halberd through and deep into the ground beneath him with all her weight. Then Merrin seemed to convulse, thrusting harder and harder on the halberd’s pole.

Merrin, he’s dead.

Not until I say he is! Merrin cried with rage and triumph, almost jumping off her feet to add more weight and power to the halberd, once, twice, three times…

Elayeen wiped her blade on Tall man’s tunic, and sheathed it, and hurried to her friend’s side.

Merrin, he’s dead.

Then I’ll make him thrukken deader!

oOo

3. Judgement

Three hours after the attempt on Elayeen’s life at the Point, Rak’s house was a hive of activity. Those of Sarek’s Rangers not on patrol were stationed around the house, elves of the Kindred Rangers likewise, though others had been sent to examine the bona fides of any and all recent arrivals to the town and its hostelries. Even the Tarn Volunteers had turned out, and stood guard at strategic points about the main square, more as a gesture of support for Elayeen than anything else, armed as they were with simple rock-hammers. Valin and Meeya were within, both angry, though Valin was quietly but obviously fuming.

It is not your fault, Valin, Elayeen said softly, again. None of us could have foreseen this, not so soon, not in this season.

It would not have been possible at all had you heeded my advice, miThalin.

True. Yet we are unharmed.

And for that, Rak announced, gazing with undisguised awe at Merrin, We could not be more grateful.

Merrin was still far too outraged by the attack so close to hearth and home to do much of anything except glower fiercely from her seat near the fire, nostrils flaring, teeth clenched, Travak sitting quietly on her lap and staring wide-eyed at his mother.

Major Sarek knocked politely on the open door, and at a nod from Rak, entered.

My lord, my ladies, he announced, his features stern. We’ve conducted a detailed examination of the corpses. Cloaks were Arrunwove, boots and trousers Jurian, tunics and undershirts from Mornland. Horses and saddles from Callodon, and the weapons bear forge-markings from both Callodon and Juria. Apart from a change of clothing and some food, they possessed little else but these… Sarek offered two small pouches to Rak, who shook his head.

Money?

Aye, my lord. Twelve inchbars of silver in the one, ten in the other. They bear guildmarks of assay from Juria, Callodon, and here in Threlland.

Sarek tipped a couple out into the palm of his hand. The inchbars were little ingots of pure silver, an inch long and a quarter of an inch square.

Inchbars are common currency for well-travelled traders or merchants, Rak grimaced. Twenty-two is a goodly sum.

Aye, my lord. A good price for a life and a risky venture. They did have some coin too, but only a small amount, of various lands, in various denominations. Their horses were saddled and ready for the off outside the inn. They told Derrik at the Traveller’s Rest they were heading for Crownmount, but wished to see the gorge first.

Nonsense, obviously.

Aye. A ruse. They had a room at the front of the inn, overlooking the square and this house. And they could also see the path up to the Point. From what we’ve been able to glean so far, they had their horses saddled in a hurry, at about the time the ladies took the morning air.

How long have they been in Tarn, Major? Valin asked, arms folded.

Three days at the inn. They arrived in the night, and via the south road, it seems. We’re sending word to ascertain whether they crossed into our lands from Mornland, or were already in southern Threlland.

Three days, Valin glowered. And the Mornland border crossing at the river, is it still flooded?

It’s swollen, but not entirely impassable. Though only a fool or one driven by urgent need would attempt it in this season.

Then, Rak sighed, There is no way of knowing who they were, or from whence they came.

No, my lord. No documents, nothing at all to suggest their origin. Very professional.

No marks on the bodies? Valin asked.

None. Once we’d managed to unpin the short one from where he’d been nailed to the ground, stripping them to examine the clothing and the bodies was the first thing we did.

Then, Valin announced, It would seem that the Toorseneth counts paid assassins as well as spies in its numbers east of Elvendere.

So it would seem, Sarek agreed.

You need have no fear, lady Elayeen, Rak soothed, Threlland shall henceforth take every precaution for your safety, even to the point of closing Tarn to all non-residents, should the need arise.

Elayeen looked up, dragging her eyes from the fire, sitting opposite Merrin in the chair Gawain had so often occupied. She eyed them one by one, calmly, her expression almost serene in spite of the violence which had shattered the morning’s peace.

No, lord Rak. I cannot now allow Threlland to be responsible for my care, though I do thank you and the Major for all your support and kindness. But my enemies are powerful, and have proven today they mean to destroy me, and will go to great lengths so to do. I cannot put you, or lady Merrin, or anyone else at risk. Nor should any in Threlland suffer the slightest guilt on my account should I remain and my enemies succeed.

We are allies, Rak insisted quietly, And friends, and have stood together often. Just as you stood by us at the battle of Far-gor, we shall stand by you here.

Again, and this time a little sadly, Elayeen shook her head. My enemies know I am here, and they will make other attempts. More, it is likely that Morloch too knows I am here, and in seeking vengeance against Gawain may well strike at me, and indirectly, the good people of Tarn. I cannot remain.

Elayeen! Merrin chided, Where else will you go? And in the middle of winter? Leaving is out of the question. My uncle would not permit it, and nor can I.

No, Merrin, it makes perfect sense. Lord Rak knows this, but he is too noble to admit it.

It is not a matter of nobility, lady Elayeen. I simply do not think that decisions with such profound implications should be made in haste, nor so soon after the shock of an assault.

You are wise, husband. You should listen to Rak, Elayeen, and delay any decision until common sense and cool heads have had a chance to prevail. My hands are still shaking, and I’m still outraged by the attack upon us here. I don’t doubt my own judgement is seriously impaired, and when my anger has finally subsided, I fear I’ll be useless to all.

Elayeen sighed, and tried to quell the emotions bubbling and simmering within her. Righteous anger, pride in herself, the yearning for Gawain’s reassuring presence and approval, fear for herself and her friends, the horror of personal violence so soon after the battle of Far-gor, and beneath it all, like a powerful undercurrent, the insistent tug of the duty imposed upon her in the Hall of Raheen.

She turned her gaze to the fire once more, and drew in a breath, steadying herself.

I must leave. Not even in the vaults of Crownmount would I be safe, and nor would my friends and allies. You must understand, it is not simply my life which is threatened. Lord Rak knows this. Should any catastrophe befall Threlland and its people because of me, it would not be long before the respect and honour shown by all peoples to the Kindred Rangers turned to anger, distrust, and fear. Morloch and his agents will understand the threat we pose to them, seeing as we do so clearly the creatures they are able to send against these lands. It is not simply for my own sake I must leave, but also for the sake of all Kindred Rangers, and thus for all the lands where they serve.

I do not think, lady Elayeen, Rak asserted, That the bonds of respect and friendship, and the high esteem in which the ninety-five are held, are as fragile as you seem to believe. Please, do not hasten any decision which does not need to be made here and now. Allow the Rangers to do their work, and allow us to do ours. In the kinder light of a new day, we can discuss in greater detail matters which may not seem of such great importance as they do today.

There was a long pause while Elayeen considered the wisdom of Rak’s words. All around her, expectant expressions, except from Valin and Meeya, whose appearance remained dark and determined. She knew she would have to leave, and she knew that nothing Lord Rak of Tarn could possibly say would change her mind. But it was past noon, and it would take time and preparation before she could ride out for the safety and anonymity of the plains.

Very well, lord Rak. I will gladly continue to accept the warmth and hospitality of your hearth. But Valin and Meeya shall, I daresay, require to be nearer now than the barracks at Major Sarek’s headquarters.

Of course, Rak smiled while Merrin heaved a quiet sigh of relief, And they are of course welcome here as always.

By your leave, my lord, I shall return to the investigations?

Of course, Sarek, thank you. Keep me apprised of your findings.

Sarek saluted, bowed to the ladies, and left, a blast of cold air from the hall rushing in when he took his leave by the front door.

I should prepare lunch… Merrin began, trailing off and gazing around the small living-room. And we now have more guests, I should attend to the spare room and have the fire there lit…

Merrin… Rak soothed.

No, I must, you must all think me a poor hostess indeed… there is so much to do…

Elayeen stood, moving slowly, seeing the anger flooding out from Merrin’s expression, shock and horror at the morning’s events pouring in to replace it.

By your leave, my lord, I would speak alone with my friends in the kitchen for a while?

Of course, Rak said hurriedly, gratitude shining from his eyes while Elayeen, Meeya, and Valin discreetly left the room and closed the door behind them.

Once in the warmth of the kitchen, doors closed and Valin eyeing the garden warily through the window, Elayeen sat at the table, Meeya standing watchfully by the fireplace, covering the back door as well as the door to the hallway.

For a few moments, the silence was broken only by the crackling of the fire. Elayeen studied her fingers, scrubbed clean of blood and grime, then held her hands before her, fingers spread wide. They were rock steady. Finally she clasped her hands together on the table in front of her and drew a breath before speaking, in elvish.

I did not imagine they would strike so soon. I had thought we might have until summer, or at least until late spring.

Survivors from the battle would have carried word of your whereabouts with them to their homelands. It’s perhaps not surprising that such words would find their way to the Toorseneth. I have failed in my duty, miThalin. We have all failed in our duty to keep you safe.

Valin, your first duty now is to the oath you made to Gawain. The thalangard oaths you swore in respect of Elvendere’s Crown are no longer binding on any of us. The oath of the Kindred Rangers is to keep all lands safe from the darkness, not to serve as my personal bodyguard.

Even so, miThalin…

No, Valin. No more. I understand your anger and I understand that you feel you have failed me. I do, I really do. But feelings of anger and failure are of no help to me now and I need you to abandon them. G’wain is not here, and I need my friends more than I need sullen or sheepish warriors.

Valin took a breath, and let it out slowly, and nodded. But still his eyes flicked to the vista without the kitchen window, watching for movement, watching for any sign of hostility.

Do you really mean to leave, Leeny? Meeya said, softly.

Yes. I must. I had no idea the Toorsencreed’s arm was so long. I had no idea they could move against me so quickly. I underestimated their reach, and their power.

Where shall we go?

Nowhere. Anywhere. I learned so much from G’wain. Now I have to use that knowledge. When he and I rode for Raheen with Allazar, we made the journey from Ferdan clear to Jarn without seeing anyone, and succeeded in avoiding all habitation. I may have to do so again. The ancient Sight cannot see into the hearts of men. We cannot tell spies from friends.

"What do you mean, I? You said I may have to do so again. You will not leave without us, Leeny."

Under no circumstances! Valin asserted fiercely, and then looked distinctly sheepish for his outburst.

I haven’t decided yet, Elayeen announced softly. It must be made well known that I have left Threlland, when the time comes. Beyond that, I mean to take advantage of the vast tracts of wilderness between the settlements here in the east. If our enemies know I am no longer in Threlland, the threat to these lands diminishes. If they do not know where I am, the threat to me diminishes likewise.

Perhaps lord Rak is correct, miThalin. Perhaps the attack upon you this morning is pressing you to a hasty decision when there is no need for speedy action.

Do you doubt my judgement then, Valin?

"It is not my place so to do, miThalin. But perhaps I doubt the necessity for a hasty departure. How many more assassins does the Toorseneth have at its disposal, here in the east?