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Date Posted: 14:58:56 03/29/03 Sat
Author: Leila & Gelan
Subject: Leila encounters Gelan and they set off in pursuit of the kinstealers
In reply to: No post. 's message, "War of the Everdark" on 12:38:20 03/27/03 Thu

December 28

Leila awoke feeling very sore. Her eyes did not open yet though for at the moment of consciousness she heard the sound of the vulgar sluk speech all around her. Her eyes parted halfway, long lashes concealing the fact that they opened at all and she peered about her. None were paying attention to her, but looting the bodies of those that had fallen. She could also see the light of torches and hear the sounds of stamping hooves upon the earth which she knew to be Ghulka mounted 'pon their Helsteeds. A glance to her side and she sees a bow...none were paying her heed and her small size kept her discreet as she picked up the bow and then scuttled across the ground until she had taken refuge behind fallen rubble where she could stand and peek out around at her surroundings. She was near the barrow mounts of the keep. Everything seemed so familiar now. She knew she had to get to the tomb, so with one final glance around she took off running full speed towards the ring of tumbled stones that stood guard outside of Othran's Crypt. Leila reached her goal and stepped down inside, her eyes adjusting and turning the room that odd shade of indigo that she had grown so accustomed to. It was just as she had dreamed. The great seer's tomb had been looted and defiled. The stone slab pushed away from the top of his tomb and smashed on the ground beside it. Her head snapped back over her shoulders as the shouting of Rucks drew closer. Had they seen her? Glancing at the tomb she knew she had no other choice, so she crawled into the stone sarcophagus and lay down among the dust finding herself staring into the grinning face and vacant eye sockets of the long-dead seer. Some of the cloth still clung to the yellowed bones and it sent a chill down her spine. She searched the form for weapons. The knife scabbard was empty unlike in her dream, but then she found that in the folded arms of the skeleton were two weapons. A long silver blade with runes of gold engraved into the blade. The other snagged her cloak. It was an arrow, smaller than normal, and straight. It was made of a strange light metal that she had never encountered. As ceremonial as the weapons seemed, they were still weapons and she had none. The shouting drew closer outside and then came the soft clatter of hooves. The Shadowlight was blacked out as a form came through the entrance leading a steed. It had to be a Ghul! She took the bow which she had pillaged and the stolen arrow and nocked it. Holding the arrow at attention, she would wait until the Ghul came in enough for her to see the form in the spectral light…she only had one shot. Voices grew louder as Rucks tramp past the tomb. Leila centered her aim...

The dark form, unaware of the other's presence in the tomb, still gripped the hilt of a broken sword as the figure leaned forward to peer out at the passing Rucks. He was dressed in grey, a black cloak hanging from his shoulders. Dirtied and smudged was his grey armor. And behind him stood a jet-black steed.

She pulled the arrow back tighter and just before she released it she stopped herself, resting the arrow across her lap as well as the bow before she cried out in a soft whisper. "Prince Gelan!" Ah yes, she knew who he was by his horse. Leila climbed out of the tomb, brushing off the dust of ages and then sheathing the Atala blade and the Red Quarrel, knowing that it would be needed later, though she knew not what for just yet.

The Man spun and crouched low to the ground, holding out his shattered sword before him like a knife. The steed behind him perked its ears and twisted his neck, his head facing the figure that rose up from the tomb. A soft snort was blown out his snout.

Leila startled for a moment and then realized that he had no idea who she was. "Do not be alarmed. I am no foe. I am Leila of The Eternal Elven Home...just...not elven." She shook her head softly and held her hands up, fingers splayed to show she held no weapon. "I have been fighting at Challerain Keep since the beginning of this war. I was sent back with your brother, Prince Igon, to escort him along with an elven host to defend the Keep." Which had obviously not worked.

Long moments fled, and outside the Rucks tramped away, their sounds growing faint. At last the Man spoke. "Friend, you say, yet you are Rukh-height." Slowly he stepped closer to the figure. "A woman!" Gelan lowered the shard of his sword at last. "Forgive me, Lady Leila, but these are suspicious times." Jet, too, wondered at this smaller tomb-mate, and he shifted his stance and stretched out his neck and snuffed at the smaller one and seemed satisfied with the female.

"I do not blame you, my Prince, for when you came in I had an arrow aimed for your heart and had I not recognized your horse, then I might have shot it, and dreadful would the consequences have been." She reached over to offer her palm to the horse to snuffle in to get her scent, and once he had she reached up to scratch behind his black ears. "I know I am not what you expect to come from your great Father's army, but every little bit helps...as little as it is." She grinned a little and then glanced towards the entrance of the tomb. "The forces ride for...Stonehill to rendezvous."

"Ho, then we are even," and Gelan smiled easily, "for I mistook you for a Rukh. Not the best ways to start an acquaintance, I would say." He seemed to halt in thought before he continued. "Then it is to Stonehill that well will ride." A glance was given to her arrow, her only arrow. "Is that the only shaft you have?"

"Yes. All my others were spent when we tried to break through the last gate of the keep and my sword was carried off buried to the hilt inside a Ghulk," she explained, a hand lifting to push back unruly curls of black hair that had fallen from her braid and now tried to fall over her face.

"Hai! A mighty warrior you are." Gelan then took up his shattered sword, blade snapped near the hilt. "Though I deem we have not much to meet the foe with, you and I: a broke blade and a lone arrow." He was unaware of the Atala blade she held.

"And I have no horse either, my Prince. Mine own was killed before I was thrown down into this wretched ravine. I can tell you that it is deep, and the bottom is not soft for landing." A smirk upon her lips. "But the Rucken horde occupies itself with looting bodies, if we leave swiftly then we will make it into the Shadowlight before they see us, and I can see farther than elves in this queer light. I will not let us be found."

A quick nod was given to her in response. "And Jet can easily carry us both for now. "If you would tell me of my brother, Igon, I would be most grateful." Gelan stepped further into the tomb and Leila would be able to see the resemblance Gelan held to both Aurion, his sire, and Igon, his brother. In his middle twenties was Gelan, with all the endurance and speed of youth matured into the fullness of strength. Tall he was, like his sire, six feet or an inch more. Dark was was his hair, like that of Igon, and his eyes were steel-grey, too, though in the Shadowlight, they seemed black. Grey quilted goose-down winter garments he worse, and his cloak that had appeared black was now seen to be gray, too. A leather and steel helm was upon his head. He tied his sword scabbard to Jet's saddle and turned to face Leila once more. "To Stonehill. As for your far-seeing eyes, there is a tale here for the telling, yet you can speak of it as we ride thought, for we must leave this place: Rukha abound, and may come in.

"I will tell you of your brother as we ride," she said, almost taken aback how one could look so much like two people at the same time. He stood a full eight or nine inches taller than the young gypsy, so she came not quite to his shoulder. She turned then and mounted upon the horse, scooting to the front and waiting for him to mount on behind her. Once he did the horse was urged out of the tomb and took off into the Shadowlight on the way toward Stonehill.

Flickering candle light cast writing shadows as the Prince leaned forward and broke off another hunk of stale bread and ravenously bit into it. They had ridden for hours, southward across the prairie, drifting westward, too, following alongside the Post Road. Leila had ridden mounted before Gelan, so that her eyes would be used to their full. Swift was Jet, and strong, but even the best of coursers needs must rest and be fed and watered. At last they had come to an abandoned farmstead, and there they found food and grain and water and a stable with hay. Gelan had entered the house, with Leila. Small it was, but with two rooms--a kitchen and one other--and beds were in the loft above. Closing the shutters so that no light would shine out, they had lighted a candle and had found a scant store of food--stale bread, dried beans, a tin of tea, nothing else. They had then kindled a small fire on the kitchen hearth and had set a pot of water to boil, from which tea had been brewed and the beans cooked. Now the travelers avidly consumed the meager meal as if it were a sumptuous banquet.

Leila had finished her portion of the meal rather quickly, and for once had eaten. Talarin would have been so proud! And yet she knew not if he still lived, nor Adaron. She yawned softly and cradled her head in her palms, for she had not slept in at least three days time. As they had rode she had told him all about his brother that she knew, about the dragon, the escort back, and the war that had ensued. Nothing had been mentioned about her eyesight or why it was so clear in the werelight.

The look upon Gelans face was grim to beyond, yet he would speak this to her now. "Lady Leila, I know not the fate of my Sire. We were sundered in the fight, and I saw him not again. Yet my heart is ever hopeful, though what I know bodes ill. They were too many, the Ghola. I was forced aside, and my sword was broken as it clove through Ghol helm. But ere I could take up another weapons, one from a slain hand, the remaining force of Men broke free; many were scattered, though most rode hard to the east. Yet my eyes saw not Wildwind, running with the King aside, though he could have been among the larger band. I turned Jet into the ravine, to wait until, I, too, could ride away. But then the Rukh came searching, and I led Jet into the crypt, where I deed you, as well, had planned to wait. Yet as to my sire, I cannot say else." He tore off another chunk of bread, dark eyes looking to her. "When was it that you saw my sire last?"

Her hands were tucked into the collar of her shirt, using her wrists as a rest for her chin while her hands warmed. "I am afraid, Prince Gelan, that the last time I saw him he was battling great numbers of Ghulka and many men, as well as some elves rushing to his aid, but as you know, a man's weapons do not affect the Ghulka so much, only Lord Adaron's Bale was successful in spilling their black blood. That was the last I saw before I was thrown over the ravine."

During her description he absently started at the last of his beans. Finally he sopped them up with a piece of bread. "When Igon and I first came unto the Everdark, send by my Father to see what was this wall, we knew naught of what the darkness held. Outside it was midsummer's day, and in the company of four Kingsmen we rode through the winds along the Black Wall and into the Shadowlight. Like riding into a winter night, it was, and snow lay upon the land and our eyes were filed with amaze. Back we rode into warm day, and Igon and I took the cloaks and jerkins and breeks from the Men of our escort, fairly stripping them bare ere we sent them home. Now, bundled against the cold, once more Igon and I pierced the Black Wall into the Winternight, this time determined to explore. Two 'Darkdays we rode within the black grasp and saw naught of any other living thing. But on the third 'Darkday, while riding through a twisting defile, we turned a corner, and there facing us stood a squad of Yrm. Without hesitation, Igon couched his lance and spitted a Rukh ere any could move even one step. Hai! But he will be a mighty warrior when he comes full into his years. It was a short fierce battle, Igon felling three Rukha in all, while I slew but one Rukh and one Lokh. The other Yrm turned and ran, scrambling up the ravine walls away; six or seven fled beyond our reach. Straight-away we rode to warn the King, for this was news of import: Rukha and Lokha bestrode the land within the 'Dark. Not an hour after the battle, we came out through the Black Wall and the Sun rode high in the sky. Then we knew that in the Everdark, Adon's Ban ruled not, and the fell creatures of night--Drego's minions--were free of the Covenant." A breath was taken. "Although my sire was ired at me for sending the Kingsmen back and taking Igon--'A mere lad!'--into what proved to be mortal danger, still the King was proud of what we had done and bade me to lead a force of warriors back into the Winternight to watch for sign of the gathering of Drego's Horde of old. A hundred Men came with me, yet Igon was not one of them, and bitter was his spirit, for he would ride at my side. Though he was to go to the Elves for his last year of training by them. Perhaps my sire was right in keeping him from the Everdark, for seventy of my Men had fallen ere the last battle with the Ghola at the Keep, and half or more of those remaining were slain in that final combat. And for what did all those who perished yield up their lives? Mayhap for naught, for Challerain Keep has fallen, and the Horde is now free to rave south." The Prince bitterly swirled the dregs of his drink in the bottom of his cup and then tossed the tea into the hearth, where it hissed and sputtered. "Ah me, but I am weary. Let us get some rest. Would you rather the first watch or the second?"

As she listened to his story she had smiled softly and shook her head when he spoke of Igon's bravery. She'd grown rather fond of the Princeling. "Their lives were not lost for naught, Prince Gelan. We have slowed their movement to the south, and perhaps they will now be more prepared to take on Drego's horde. For all the thousands that we killed are still thousands less to be fought against although tens of thousands more come to follow." She tried to be reassuring but was unsure of how. "I will take the first watch. You go and rest." She motioned towards the loft with her head and then turned her chair around and propped herself up, watching the door a little too intently, although it was to lighten the mood and make him laugh before he went to his bed.

She succeeded. A grin split his face and a low chuckle sounded from his throat. He rose up from his chair, gaining his feet. After setting his bowl aside he nodded to her a goodnight before retiring up to the loft.

December 29

The next 'Darkday, south and west they pressed, taking with them the last of bread and beans, as well as grain for Jet. Later they came upon another abandoned stead; this one was bestrewn with wreckage, as if a fight had occurred. In the wreck Gelan found food--dried venison and some turnips. Onward they rode for many hours, bearing ever south and west. Finally they stopped to camp in the lee of a thicket, huddled beside a small fire, its light shielded by brush.

December 30

Early after resuming their way, the margins of the Battle Downs hove first into Leila's view and then into Gelan’s. And they rode alongside the hills, going upon the Post Road now as it swung to the west. Miles passed under Jet's hooves, and Man and Woman often dismounted and walked to rest the steed, feeding him grain when they took their own meal, as was their practice. They had ridden some six hours, covering nearly twenty miles, when they rounded the flank of a hill.

Upon rounding the flank of the hill shapes came into her strange vision. "Lord Gelan," she spoke quietly. "Something stands upon the road. It moves not, and appears to be..." she squinted for a moment. "It appears to be a wagon. I see no team, nor any person stirring." Her voice caught for a moment. "Those are wagons that set out from Challerain Keep just before the siege upon the keep!" she cried out.

"Mount behind me, Leila, for we may meet the foe" He waited for her to swing behind him.

She blinked and then moved his arm from one side of her. Swinging one leg over so that she now rode side saddle she pushed herself up a bit onto one knee, the other leg wrapping around him. It was a very good thing that she was flexible. Once she'd gained purchase with her other foot she released his leg, which she had been holding herself upon and finished swinging around, scooting so that she would not fall from the saddle. From her scabbard was the sound of a sword being drawn, the Atala blade, and it was presented at his side hilt-first. "Take my blade then, Prince Gelan, for you will need it if we are to happen upon the enemy."

Gelan nodded, taking the Atala blade from her. Gently he eased Jet forward, speaking softly, so that only she could hear him, that is, as long as there weren't any Elves near by. "We will fight or flee is there be enemy. If we fight, you will slip straight back and drop to the ground and use that deadly bow of yours where it will do the most good. But recall, we have but a long-knife and a single arrow between us; thus it may be best to run. If we flee, hang on tightly, for Jet will veer and leap as he flies o'er the 'scape." Along the road they went; now more wagons came into view, as Jet rounded the curve of the hill. They were in disarray, some on the road, some off, and all were abandoned; many were burnt while others lay upon their sides. Now Gelan, too, could see them, and his expression was grim. Closer they drew, and other shapes could be seen laying in the snow--horses, Men . . . dead, felled. A slain Helsteed.

Perhaps for the first time she abandoned all notions of sensical behavior at the sight. "Igon rode in the rear!" Not to mention the Prince of Silverbird Forest and Lady Astariel. Leila slipped off the back of the horse and ran forward in the snow, dropping down by dead bodies and flipping them over to see their faces--all expressions frozen and preserved in their grim horror by the chill. She was looking for Igon, terrified that she would find him. She could not abide by losing him as well.

Gelens eyes flew open wide upon this realization and Jet was spurred forward. The Black was reined in to a halt while Gelan dismounted in one and the same motion. With the reins in hand, he, too, moved among the slain, hacked by blades, pierced by spears, and frost and rime covered all. The Prince stopped at two bodies, his head bowing as he dropped to a knee.

Leila went to Gelan's side then, standing beside him as she stared down at the two bodies in the snow. She had not found Igon, and was praying that he had not either.

"Lady Leila, you may not have known either, but I knew them well." One body lay face down in the snow while the other lay upon his side. Gelan nodded to the one on his side. "That is Captain Jerriel." And Gelan's hand went to the other's shoulder and slowly turned him over. "This was the messenger that I sent to Challerin Keep, Haddon." And indeed it was the wounded warrior. His body was too stiff for his eyes to be closed and so with a crunch Gelan broke the snow from the warriors red cloak and covered his face with it.

"Haddon!" she cried and then pushed herself up out of the snow, screaming in a mix of anger and frustration. "I hate this!" she choked, kicking the wheel of a wagon with all the force she had. In the back of her mind she almost wished that Talar and Adaron had let her die there in the snow back in Aragon. Then she would not be facing this pain. Why was she even here? There had to be a reason, and whatever it was, she had yet to find it. Once more she beat her fists upon the side of the wagon and then pushed away, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "We have to search now for Mallorn's daughter and Prince Elomir. If they are slain then there is naught we can do but gather the weapons from the dead and continue on to Stonehill. If they are not, then there is a chance that...I do not know what chance there is, but they may still be alive and we have to find them if they are." She was so miserable. Could there ever be a happy resolution to this?

Quickly Gelan had risen as if to calm her yet he let her anger stay its course. He watched silently as she ranged. He knew her pain. "Let us search for the others then." He agreed, and long they did just that. Much horror they saw as they moved up and down the grim train. Gelans steps almost faltered carrying him along in a benumbed state as he saw the savage slaughter that had occurred when the caravan had been overrun: Men were slain, and Women, too, as wall as the oldsters; but worst of all were the children, some but babes in arms. Even the steeds were slaughtered, cut down in their very traces. As to who had done the deed, there was no doubt, for Ghuls had been felled, as well as Helsteeds. Yet Prince Elomir, Lady Astariel, or Prince Igon were not to be found among the dead. Gelan had rearmed himself, taking up Jarriel's steel. In one of the wains arrows were found and they were given to Leila. Now they stood at mid train, where a great track beat eastward through the snow. "Five 'Darkdays are gone," gritted Prince Gelan, bale in his eyes, "and there lies their wake. East they fled from this butchery." A sigh and he turned to Leila. "Of my brother and the others I know not where they are. "Igon may have one free with the others and galloped south for Stonehill, for Rust is not among the slain steeds. Or they could, one, two, or all three, be captives of Drego's butchers." Gelan struck a fist into palm and ground his teeth in rage. "Yet free or captive, the only trace lies there in the snow before us, and even though the trail is old we shall pursue these slayers. If they hold any of the three, we will find a way to free them. And then there shall be another slaughter--only this time it will be the Ghola who fall."

She nodded in agreeance, filling her quiver with the arrows she was given. She too took up a sword however. This one from Haddon as she knelt beside him once more in the snow. A hand went to rest upon his chest. "Now I truly do fight on in your place," she said softly. "Rest well, brave Haddon," her voice choking up once more before she stood and motioned to Gelan. "Let us not waste any more time. These deaths will be avenged at my hand, and if any are prisoner, they shall be free once more."

Gelan spun and headed for a wagon. "Come, Lady Leila, we must first find provisions for a long pursuit, for they have a lead of five 'Darkdays upon us, and if they continue to run, the chase will be a lasting one." Gelan wheeled and looked in the direction of the train. "Yet we will follow these ravers, even unto Drego's Iron Tower if need be: this I swear as a Prince of the Realm!" Gelan turned once more and made for the wagons.

~*~


Thus is was that in less than an hour the black horse thundered forth upon the eastward track of the Ghuls, saddlebags filled with grain for Jet and biscuits of crue waybread for Gelan and Leila. They bore no other food, for as Gelan had said 'We must needs made Jet's load a light one, for our chase may be long, and food and such as venison or even beams carries more bulk and weight and less nourishment than these bland biscuits. Finding water for Jet will be our main concern, yet if we melt enough snow, then that, too, will be resolved.' East they went, following the swath in the snow made by the cloven hooves of many Helsteeds, the path curving to and fro among the Battle Downs but ever bearing eastward. Some hours Gelan and Leila rode, at times cantering, at times trotting, and occasionally walking, the Prince varying the gait of Jet but ever conserving the black steed's strength. At last they stopped to camp in a sheltered dell. Jet was fed some grain as Gelan forced down a crue biscuit. Although it tasted like nothing more than lightly seasoned flour, hunger disappeared. Soon Gelan bedded down as Leila took the first watch

December 31

Again they went upon the eastward track, moving through the Shadowlight of the Everdark, Leila's eyes scanning to their limits yet nothing did she see but the bleak 'scape of Winternight, and onward they pressed…

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  • Leila & Gelan pass through the Eternal Wood and head to Drearwood -- Leila & Gelan, 16:22:03 03/30/03 Sun
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