VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 19:39:13 04/05/03 Sat
Author: Leila, Gelan, & Adaron
Subject: From Drearwood to Arden Vale
In reply to: No post. 's message, "War of the Everdark" on 12:38:20 03/27/03 Thu

January 7

Gently Gelan had shook her away. "Come, Leila, we must away." He placed a biscuit before her face and set one of the leather water bottled next to her head. He grinned. "Not enough warmth, drink, food, or rest, is there? And we are surrounded on all sides by a wood reputed to be full of monsters. Ah, but this is the life, eh, Leila?" His head lifted, gaze turning to the steed. "Jet?" He removed his head from her line of sight and rose to his feet, moving to the black horse to remove his feed-bag before saddling him up.

"The life indeed," she grumped before she sat up and rubbed her eyes. Hated this. She was cold, she was hungry, and bloody hell she was tired of those crue biscuits. For a moment she knelt and clasped her hands in prayer. "Adon, I swear unto thee, if I live through this, I will never EVER argue with Talarin about eating again." And with that she stood and swung up onto the horse when he drew near, continuing to mumble as she did most mornings. Gelan had found she was not a morning person, but after about half a mile of traveling she became much more sunny.

Once the blankets were tied behind the cantle of the saddle Gelan mounted up. Into Drearwood the track leg, and among the dark trees went the three--Woman, Man, and horse. Leila had been placed to sit behind him, for in these close quarters her sight was no better then his, and in these close quarters there could come an unexpected fight. Now the Ghulen wake turned straight to the east, and as they went it came sharp and clear; for here the wind did not reach, and no new snow had fallen since the Helsteeds had trod this way. On they went, through the grim woods, and the Shadowlight fell dim among the clutching branches. Hours they rode, and at times walked, ever following the eastward trek. At last they came into the open, leaving the trees behind. Ten miles or more they traveled across a great clearing where the trees grew not, and Leila now rode before Gelan.

"The trees of Drearwood come into view, my lord Gelan." She said before turning her eyes back down to the craft she'd made of the tuft of Jet's mane that was close enough that her idle hands had taken to braiding it in tiny little braids and then unbraiding it only to start over. "Should I mount behind you once again?" now that they would be going once more into the wooded areas.

Gelan nodded and leaned to the side, finding it easier for her to move around him when he did so.

And as she did she slipped, sliding right off the horse and landing with a thud in the snow. "Oomph!" She stood and shook her cloak out, glancing about her. "Gelan...there is...something lying in the snow over there," she said, motioning just ahead of them and to the right of the trail they had been following.

A light chuckle sounded as he saw that she was all right. Gelan held his hand out to her. He would swing her up behind him. Once she was behind him Jet was spurred forward, and his canter swiftly closed the distance. Now Gelan's sight saw it too. "A body, I think." He stated. Now they came to it, and the Prince had been right. The black clothed frozen form lay face down in the snow.

"Should you...see who it is?" she asked, wrinkling her nose up a bit from behind him, still brushing snow off of her pants.

Gelan was not so light hearted about this. That form in the snow could be his younger brother. He didn't say a word, his head bowed for a moment as he fought to gather his strength for a blow to his heart that might soon come.

She rested her hands then upon the tops of her thighs as she looked down at the form in the snow, her head tipped to the side. That could not be Igon. She had never seen him in black at any time since she had met him, even the day he set out he was in red and gold! Seeing that Gelan was having such a hard time preparing himself in the event that it was his brother she slid off Jet from the back and went to kneel beside the figure in the snow. Grasping the shoulder she stood on the other side and pulled the figure over to its back.

Gelan had lifted his head upon her dismount. Silently he had watched her approach the body and turn it over. Staring back at her was the dead black eyes of the corpse-people. She shrieked and danced back from it, grabbing up a handful of snow and rubbing it together and then wiping her hands on her pants. "Ugh!" Cringing as she backed away from it. "They are perhaps more ghastly in death than life!" she exclaimed, glaring down at the body.

Gelan quickly swung his leg over Jet, dismounting. He lightly jogged the few steps to the Ghol and he knelt down beside it. "He's dead, Leila, the Ghol is dead...yet he is unmarked by weapon." His hand pushing against his knee he stood, looking at the Woman. "How he was slain, I cannot say." And another glance was given down to the pallid face and the blood-red slash of a mouth.

She just turned away from it. "Turn it back over...I can not bare to see that face which haunts my dreams so vividly." Rubbing her face for a moment. "Something has slain him. They can not simply die can they? Something killed him."

Lord Gelan nodded as he now examined the tracks leading east. Just beyond the tree line he found the ashen remains of a burnt-out fire, and all around the blanket of snow was beaten down. "Here they made camp." he called to her, taking up a charred limb from the dead fire and holding it to his nose. "Rach!" he cursed, flinging the wood aside. "Leila, we have not gained more than one 'Darkday upon them, if that, for this fire is four or five days 'Darkdays old. Gelan strode away a few paces and stood long in thought. At last he turned back to Leila. "If we had but more steeds, then we could ride apace. Yet here we must make camp, too, for Jet alone cannot run forever. He is not made of iron as was Durgan's fabled steed. Even so, Jet has borne us nearly four hundred miles these past twelve 'Darkdays, from Challerain Keep to this dismal place, and he may need to go another four hundred more ere we are done with this chase."

She just stared at him for a moment as if he had lost his bloody mind. What did anyone else's horse have to do with this? "Either way...can we do something with...that," motioning at the dead Ghul. "I can not sleep knowing that is present. Not until we hack off its head and bury it...or something." Perhaps parade it around on a pike, but what good would that do. She could have gagged just looking at it in the snow. "I will make a fire...you...be a man and do something with that." A winning smile given to him as she trounced through the snow to the place to build a fire.

And so they made cap: but as Leila had requested, Gelan took up his sword and strode past the trees and out to where the Ghul lay. When he came back, his sword was black with gore. "I have made certain that he is dead beyond recall." said the Prince.

She smiled and nodded. "I thank you, Prince Gelan, but so help me if his hand comes crawling back over here to strangle me in my sleep..." she teased and then stretched. "The fire is made. Let us take our supper." She winked, "Tonight on the menu we have...grain for the black sire to our right, and for the edain...crue waybread and water..." flatly, "...again."

At that moment Jet tossed his head as if agreeing with her tone and Gelan laughed, settling down onto his bedroll. His meal was quickly consumed as well as what he would drink before he took to sleep. His eyes drifting to a close.

January 8

East they rode, soon emerging from the woods, and the track began swinging northward. "They are striking for the mountains," said Gelan, "but whether the Rigga, the Grimwall, or the Gronfangs, I cannot say, for north they come together, north those dread ranges join. There, too, is the frozen Gruwen Passs, known to the Elves as Kregyn, and it leads down into the land of Gryn, Drego's Realm of old." Onward they paced, and the miles glided by beneath Jet's steady hooves. The land began to rise around them, for they were coming to the fringes of the foothills of the unseen mountain range ahead. Elven leagues they rode, thirty-three miles, before they again stopped to make camp, this time in a sparse coppice set against the granite side of a craggy loom running north and south beyond seeing.

While Gelan was sleeping, Leila had customarily taken the first watch, although perhaps tonight had not been the best night for her. She began to drift as the fire hypnotized her. Her mind found rest in memories of her love and of happier times, and then a shadow flicked across her view and Leila jerked awake with a startled gasp to find that they were completely surrounded...

By her gasp alone Gelan was woken and up, his sword already in hand.

"Tulunka!" barked one of the strangers, holding his blade at guard, but Gelan had noticed the pointed ears and set features and knew them to be Elves, and so he lowered the tip of his sword to the snow. "Take warning," spoke the Elf, "you are under the arrows of the eldalie of Arden Vale." The one who spoke seemed to relax his stance, though those around him did not, but his blade did not lower. "Your names and missions."

Gelan spoke up then before Leila could. "My companion is Lady Leila of Tel’Oira Eldamar. She is a warrior and Yrm slayer and serves in the company of High King Aurion. We are on the track of a band of foul Ghola, slayers of innocents ten 'Darkdays past."

Leila allowed him to answer. A pause, for a moment she was going to speak but then stopped and only rubbed her eyes, dropping her hands to her lap and then turning to look apologetically at Prince Gelan. "Lucky we are that it was not a band of Ghola that happened upon us. I am sorry." The hood hung from her head to reveal the dark black strands and odd green-gold eyes that danced in the firelight. Some days you just couldn't win.

It was another Elf next to the first who spoke. "Blame not yourself, Lady Leila, for as many well know, at time we can move silently through even the driest of fall leaves." His eyes twinkled as a tight grin spread over his lips. Then he turned his gaze to the Man. "And your name?"

"I am Gelan, son of Aurion." The Prince of the Realm replied softly.

"Hai!" The Elves now sheathed their blades, and one turned and signalled to the crags above. "I am Duorn and this is Tillaron," he motioned to the first Elf who had spoken, "and we were sent to slay you if you served the Evil one, or to fetch you if you are friends, for you are camped upon our very doorstep."

"If you are to fetch us, then who sent you, and were are we to go?" Lord Gelan asked.

"Captain Elaria sent us," Answered Duorn, "and as to where we will go, why, to Arden Vale." Gelan knew the lands that we inhabited by Men well, yet as for areas where the Elves dwelled, many things were a mystery. "Arden Vale?" He questioned. "That's where Lord Inarion bade us seek help if aught was needed. Yet, I thought Arden lay to the south, down near the Crossland Road."

Gelan gave a long glance to Leila before returning his attention to the Elf that was once again speaking, Tillaron.

"Yes, it is in the south, Lord Gelan, yet Arden reaches far noth, too, and it but a few steps from here--less than a league to shelter and warm food." And so they broke camp, scattering the fire, quenching the embers with snow. Then toward the craggy bluff they went on food, Gelan leading Jet. Straight at the sheer stone they strode. Through close-set pines they pressed, and into a hidden cleft in the rock. Jet's hooves rang upon rock as into an arched granite cavern they were led, hands outstretched out before them, for they sould see nothing in the dark. "Trail your hands along the wall on your left, " Duron's voice came, echoing softly, "and fear not for your toes or your crown, for the floor is smooth and the ceiling high. Five hundred paces we will go in the dark, for a light might be seen by unfriendly eyes." It might have been nearly nine hundred paces for the smaller female, before they came out of the tunnel. Lying before them was a deep craggy gorge lined by tall pines growing thickly in the soil that lay on either side of the river below, now frozen in the winter cold. A steep narrow path fell down teh gorge wall to come among the pines. And several buildings were nestled in the trees below. Along the path they went, and as they strode down they heard a horn of a sentry signaling the arrival of strangers into the gorge. Down the path and among the pines they went, to come at last to the central shelter. An Elf took Jet and led him away as Leila and Gelan were ushered inside. Vivid colors and warmth and the smell of food assaulted the senses as they entered the great hall, lambent with yellow lamps glowing in cressets and fires burning on the hearths. Bright Elves turned as the strangers entered, and silence reigned as the Elven Leader stood to greet them, his consort at his side. Gelan doffed his cloak as well as his quilted goose-down outer clothing, motioning for Leila to do the same.

At his motion she mimicked his actions and stood now in his former suit of mail that fit her marvelously as though it had been crafted for her instead of him. Despite the excess clothing removed Leila still looked a mess. Both of them were smudged with dirt and just not looking very lovely among the Fair Folk of Arden Vale. Her head canted just so as she observed the Elven Leader and who she considered to be his wife, though it was not named as such. The gypsy stood silent, though a soft smile had taken a home upon full lips. The rosiness of caramel cheeks fading as her skin warmed.

Now before the assembly were the two bright warriors, Leila's armor silver and Gelan's bright red. Gelan glanced to Leila's armor and gave her a broad grin, for he had not seen her, as she not him, is anything other than their bulky down, and now they both looked the part of warriors. Gelan strode to the dais and Elves murmed softly in amaze, for visits to Arden by Men were rare, ah, but here also came a Woman.

"My Lord Aravan, " said Duorn in a voice all could hear, "I bring you Prince Gelan, son of Aurion King, and Lady Leila of The Eternal Elvenhome."

Aravan bowed. He was a tall Elf, and slender. His fair hair was clipped back so it poured down his neck to the middle of his shoulder blades, and from the side, his profile might have been mistaken for Adaron's. His eyes were green. He was dressed in soft shimmering greys, a blue cloak upon his shoulders.. He turned to his consort. "Prince Gelan, Lady Leila," Aravan began, "this is the fair Rael."

Gelan raised his eyes to the Elfess and even his gaze filled with wonder, for here was a beauty like unto that of the Lady Astariel, though he had never met her but heard of her beauty. Fair was Rael, and graceful, too. Yet where Astariel's hair took more of a wheaten shade, Rael's locks were golden and her eyes a deep ocean blue, mirroring the Elven Emissary's of Elvenhome. Dressed in green, she was, with her hair bound in ribbons. The Elfess's gaze was drawn to Leila and a soft smile came upon her lips, almost as if she were sharing a secret with the edainme.

Leila returned the smile give to the Elfess, almost shocked when her eyes met the other's, for they were so familiar. Upon studying then Lord Aravan, her heart broke all over again. So much did he resemble the Elven Emissary that she believed to have fallen back at Challerain Keep. Her hand lifted to tap her chest lightly and then sweep out as she bowed to the Elven Leader and his consort. "Saesa omentien lle, Heru Aravan,"(Pleasure to meet you Lord Aravan) her head nodding separately to him, and then to his lady, "Arwen en amin, Rael." (My lady Rael) Her words were strained, though could be conveyed as travel weary.

"You must east and drink and spend some days with us," Ocean blue orbs of Rael were yet upon the Lady Leila yet slowly she blinked, turning her gaze to Gelan. "and rest from your journey."

"Ah, my Lady, much as we would like, we cannot," responded Gelan. Yes, tonight, perhaps, we will east and drink and be warm and rest under your guard."

~*~


Leila had been soaking for what seemed like an eternity. Her hair had been washed and now clung to her scarred back in wet tendrils, as well as her shoulders, the ends floating about contentedly in the water that surrounded her. Green-gold eyes were closed as she halfway dozed in the lilac-scented water. For all the strife they had endured, this was certainly a welcome relief, especially since the food was anything but that wretched waybread which she had grown to hate with a passion. A hand rested upon her chest, her thumb stroking the silver surface of the pendant she wore, a sigh left her lips. Finally her eyes opened and she glanced out of the window with a soft sigh. Her eyes could pierce the Everdark night, but still, there was nothing she could see. "Adaron..." she whispered softly. "If only I could know that you were safe." Her hand slipped back into the water and both rose then to bring cupped water to rinse over her face once more, hands going back through the thick strands of her hair that also carried the scent of the lilac water.

There was a soft tapping on the door to the bathing chambers. Leila's tub was not the only one in the room, but she was still alone. The Elfess, mindful of Edan modesty, she still opened the door after announcing her presence, though quickly it was shut silently behind her. In her arms she held Elven garments of grey. She passed through the room silently, a gentle smile to her lips as she set the clothing down upon a small table next to Leila's tub. "These should fit you well, Lady Leila, for among our race there are those of our stature." Now that Rael was not standing up the dais it was obvious that she was closer to Leila's height than it had originally seemed, perhaps standing two or three inches taller. "I will take your winter garments to be cleaned." She slightly, one hand lifting each piece of clothing to set into her arm crooked at her waist.

Her eyes turned to Lady Rael then. It wasn't quite the same as when Talarin had strolled into the bathing chambers, at least Rael was another female. A slight laugh given. "At least you did not tell me I was Rucken-height," a smile as she saw that the lady of these woods was not so much taller than herself, especially considering all the other elves seemed to be upward toward six feet with Leila barely standing four inches over five. "I thank you, Lady Rael. Your kindness is greatly appreciated." The gypsy winced at seeing the Fair One touch the soiled clothing. It seemed like blasphemy that one so beautiful as Rael would ever touch something covered in blood and grime.

With the clothing in hand Rael straightened and turned once more to the edainme as if she would say more. Yet she had obviously thought better of it and simply offered another smile. "These will be ready for you again soon. Take your time in here, yet I should tell you that Lord Gelan is finished with his own bath and will be meeting with Lord Aravan shortly." Then she bowed her head to the other female before turning towards the door.

After Lady Rael had left Leila rose up from the tub with a soft sigh and stretched. Eyes moved over her own form to check for any bruises she had not already taken stock of and then finally she dried herself off and left the towel in her hair to keep it from dripping on the gray garments she now donned. The clothing fit well, though did little to flatter her complexion or eye color, but what did she care at this point? The towel taken from her hair and she ruffled it a bit more. It would take a while for it to dry, but if she braided it then it would take twice as long, so it was left down to brush against her lower back. Boots pulled onto her feet and she exited the bathing chambers, unsure truly of where to go now to find Prince Gelan or Lord Aravan.

Prince Gelan and Lord Aravan we seated in the great hall. The Elf Lord was seated upon his high backed chair upon the dais while Gelan sat upon the steps that led up to it. Few figures were in the hall at this time and those that were spoke softly amongst themselves.

Leila made her way then to the great hall, stepping into the room slowly, for now that she had taken her bath and dressed the condition of her muscles was beginning to catch up to her. So she went then to stand before Lord Aravan, bowing once more. Unsure now of what to do. If he wanted her to sit then he would tell her. Otherwise she stood at ease, her hands folded before her.

Lord Aravan’s green gaze lifted as the Woman approached. His hand swept out, gesturing for her to sit as well. Then he turned to Gelan. "Continue, Lord Gelan." After a glance to Leila Gelan turned his attention back to Aravan. "Lord Aravan, I would that we could rest her longer than a night. But on the morrow we must leave at haste, for we are on the track of Ghola, and north we ride."

Leila sat down then, listening as Prince Gelan spoke. Her chin rested upon her arms, which were folded upon her knees. She was like a pixie there all curled up upon the stairs comfortably as she listened to the parlay between the two males.

"On the track of Ghulka?!" exclaimed the Elf before continuing quickly. "Prince Gelan, ere you set out, there is someone you must see, for it may bear upon your mission. Follow me." Aravan rose quickly from his seat and when the others were ready strode quickly down the length of the hall and out the doors and across the snow, with the two in his wake. As they crossed toward another building, there was the sound of the sentry's horn announcing another arrival, and Lord Aravan looked up at the gorge wall to see a horse bearing an Elf clattering swiftly down the distant path. Then he spoke, his attention away from the arriving Elf. "He was found three 'Darkdays past," Aravan said as they walked, "laying in the snow, wounded and fevered, cut upon the brow, perhaps by a poisoned blade. He would have frozen had my patrol not happened upon him. His horse had bore him toward the enterence of the gorge, and he was not far away. But he had fallen from the saddle and lay among the rocks--for how long, I cannot say--and he was nearly dead. But he, too, mumbled of Ghulka, and now at times he rages, fevered. Even so, he might bear you news, though he has not awakened."

Leila rose quickly, following behind the two males. Her first thought was Prince Igon, if they had truly kidnapped him and then he'd resisted too much, perhaps the Ghulka would have left him for dead? Through the Shadowlight, Leila glanced up toward the gorge, seeing another rider approach, though she could not identify who it was. She supposed it was just another of the sentries coming in from warding. Once they reached the other building, the gypsy warrior waited, almost holding her breath as she waited Aravan to lead them inside.

Into the building Aravan led them, and down a central hall of doorways. Gelans heart was racing, and a great sense of foreboding filled his being.

Ahead, a door opened, and an Elven healer stepped into the corridor. "Heru Aravan." the Elf greeted the Elven Leader.

"How fares the youth?" questioned Aravan.

"His face is flush with heat, yet I deem the fever had begun to break, for he is at times no longer racked with chills, and he will waken soon." The Elf's eyes slide over Leila and Gelan, wonder in his gaze, but he spoke on to Aravan. "Yet he has been near death, and trembles with weakness. His strength will not return for a fortnight or two, and then only if the herbs Arwen Rael used can throw off the poison of the Rupt blade." "I would that Lord Gelan sees him, for it may bear upon the Prince's quest." responded Lord Aravan, and the healer stepped aside, opening the door."

With his pulse thudding his ears, into the candlelit room Gelan quietly stepped. There in a bed lay a young Man, his face to the wall, and he was weeping. The breaking of the elder Prince's heart almost audible. Gelan stepped over and sat at the edge of the bed, his hand lifting to gently lay upon his younger brother's shoulder, speaking softly to him, anguish in his voice. "Igon."

The youth turned his face to that of his brother, his mind elsewhere, his eyes red from crying. "Gelan, oh, Gelan," he wept, "they've got the Lady Astariel." The one who had given the sword oath to protect. Gelan held Igon to him, tears streaming down both of their faces, yet the look upon Gelan's visage was grim to behold. The candles cast a soft yellow glow over the room, and Lord Aravan stood by the door, his eyes glittering in light. But then Gelan gently lowered Igon to the bed and called for a healer, for the youth's fever has flared again and the young Prince had swooned.

"Igon..." her whisper breathless as a hand came up over her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks as well, choking back a sob, for she knew that Gelan's pain must be a thousand fold her own. Slowly she walked behind Gelan, a hand resting upon his shoulder in silent support. "Gelan, I am so sorry..." her voice low.

Gelan’s shoulders were hunched, his head bowed, hands coming to clasp in his lap and tears dripped from his nose to wet the blankets that covered his sibling. He took comfort in her touch but was unable to say anything. The healer came with a cooling towel to lay upon the forehead of the sleeping youth. Once that was done herbs were burned in the room to soothe the mind of the troubled youth.
She squeezed his shoulder gently and then leaned down, her hand cupping Igon's jaw for a moment. "Sweet, young Igon..." a soft sigh. "They will pay for what they have done to you, and they will pay with their lives. Worry you not, we will rescue Lady Astariel," and though she knew he could not hear her, it was a way of reaffirming the mission to herself. Leila stood then, placing both hands upon Gelan's shoulders and letting them rest there firmly for a moment before both were lifted as she watched the younger prince sleep.

After another moment she excused herself and turned, exiting that building and moving to walk out along a pathway until she was only a short distance from the building, but no longer could she hear the sound of voices. So much had happened, and now young Igon too had been stricken by the wicked foe and he lay fighting for his life. Her voice lifted softly as she walked along the pathway. "Now I am all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to turn to...I did not ask your pity sir, I came out here 'cause I was told to. And now the night is near, and I can make believe...he is here."

The great grey stud had been taken by and Elf when he had arrived at the buildings. Soft words were exchanged between the two as he inquired as to the Crown Prince and Lord Aravan's whereabouts. Golden armor was hidden under grey fabrics and where once a scarlet cloak hung from his shoulders was not one of grey as well. Walking along across the snow, long strides carried him over to the building that currently housed the youth, leaving hardly a footprint behind. Before him a familiar figure excited the building that he was approaching. His pace slowed; she had not seen him. Silently he stepped in line behind her, still a few yards off, keen elven hearing picking up the sound of her song easily. He followed her.

Her eyes peered through the Shadowlight into the silent forest. Black hair that had dried into silken waves fell around her face in a raven cascade. Once more she began her song. "On my own, pretending he is beside me. All alone, I walk with him 'til morning..." Her hands slid up her arms then until she embraced herself, right hand crossing her chest to clasp her left shoulder, and left hand wrapping around to hold around her waist. "Without him, I feel his arms around me, and when I lose my way I close my eyes..." her eyes closing then, a soft smile upon her lips as she imagined him there. "...and he has found me..."

Silently the Elf had followed the Edainme along the path, ocean blue eyes resting upon the back of her figure. His head had turned to the right, his brow furrowing slightly as he listened, trying to discern who her words spoke of, gazing at the Lady before him from under dark brows. One foot before the other he eased forward. He was moving quickly enough to gain on her yet halted when he was roughly fifteen feet from the song weaver. Feet came to stay directly under him, his chin tipping up, brows gently rising on their own as he broke his silence, his trademark, his stoic expression, present, yet this time it was placed there, and did not come on it's own. "Who has found you?" his voice carrying out to her.

The softest of sighs...her fantasies were becoming more realistic. A quiet response, "You..." and moments passed before she blinked into the darkness and then spun around in shock. Silent was she as she stood there and stared upon him. "You...are late." Leila gasped softly, but quickly closed the space between them, standing now close to him as she looked up at him, green-gold eyes alight with tears, a smile upon her lips that she could not conceal even if she wanted to.

At her response one brow gently twitched upward. She had turned and his arms hand gone up to cross low over his chest. As she had moved closer though his arms once more quickly dropped to his sides, though not limp--but slightly bent at the elbow, his upper body ever so slightly leaned forward as though silently wishing to go closer to her as well, shoulders having straightened. Ocean blues had remained upon her as she neared him, and his lips split, a wide smile playing over his features. "Perhaps I am a bit late, nearly a day behind Lord Gelan, and you, I see."

He would not have a choice in the matter, for he had a very emotional elendil on his hands. Leila threw her arms around him and hugged him close to her, though her head came just up to, if not quite to his shoulders. "You do not know the thoughts that have crossed my mind. I was afraid of the worst...that you were..." her voice caught in her throat then and she had to stop her words.

His arms lifted to quickly return the embrace before he eased away from her with a step back, his chin dipping so that his eyes found her own, locking there. "Many were given that fate. I was not. I had thought you fallen, for I did not see you break when others had. I myself was not able to escape the fray for I fought to give aid to the King, and was among the last to break free with him..." His voice trailed off, and his gaze dropped for but a moment before snapping back up green-gold gaze. "I must speak to Lord Gelan." He held her eyes for a moment as if reluctant to turn away from her yet turn he did, and swiftly strode towards the healers building, pulling a object from his garments, clasping it tightly in his fist.

So she followed along, curious as to what would be told to the young prince, although the look in Adaron's eyes told her that the news was drear. She did not move into the room completely, but stood just past the door against a wall, eyes once again finding Igon, for whom she possessed soul-deep worry. She had not been able to ask him about Talarin, though she doubted that he would know if Talar had broken free before himself.

Gelan still sat on the edge of the young Prince's bed. At the sound of the other's entrance he looked up, rising to his feet. "Lord Adaron!" Adaron stepped towards Gelan coming to stand not two feet from him. "I come bearing woeful news, Gelan King." Adaron held out his hand that was closed upon a token and he placed the object in the High King's hand, closing Gelan's fingers around it--a scarlet eye-patch. "Aurion Redeye is dead."

Leila's head bowed as she heard the sorrowful news. Her heart was heavy for Gelan. Two blows had he taken tonight, the first with his wounded brother, and now to know that his father was dead.

Gelan’s fingers open, steel-grey orbs dropping down to the eye-patch in his hand. His legs weak, he dropped back down to Igon's bed, his breath taken from his lungs. For long moments he was silent before he was able to find his voice once more. "My sire is slain, my brother lies wounded by a poisoned blade, and Lord Mallorn's daughter is taken captive. And Drego's dark tide drowns the Land. These are evil days for Midland, and evil choices I am given."

Adaron took the necessary step towards Gelan. "Gelan King, for all of Midland you must ride south to lead the Host against vile Drego's Horde."

"North! Ride north!" Igon cried, starting up from a fevered drea, his eyes wild and unseeing. "Save the Lady Astariel!"

Leila sighed softly, her head bowing as she leaned against the wall for a moment before she pushed off and walked to sit beside Igon. A hand resting upon his forehead, the other upon his arm. "Shh, Prince Igon, she will be saved..." though perhaps not by them, she just wanted to comfort the raving youth, his brother had enough pain to deal with without being pressured to make choices when he knew he could not. One life could not be spared in place of the freedom of the land. Drego's horde had to be stopped.

At this reassurance Igon visibly relaxed and lay back upon the pillow, his eyes drifting to a close and for once, his breathing had finally steadied, drifting in and out of his body at a normal pace. It had lost it's ragged edge. The healer came over, eyes intently watching the youth for long moments, studying every aspect of him. Finally he spoke. "His fever is gone. He has cast off the poison from the enemy blade at last. When he awakens, he will be weak but his mind will be clear; yet it will take a fortnight or more for his full strength to return, and he will bear a scare for the rest of his days."

Her hand left his forehead and took up the young prince's hand into one palm, the other closing over it. "At least he will live, and will be safe for the time that he remains here," a soft smile upon her lips as she watched him sleep. "Rest well, my prince, rest well."

Gelan turned from his brother and looked up into the face of Aravan. "We are four, perhaps five 'Darkdays behind the band of Ghola fleeing north with the Lady Astariel. I deem they fly toward Drego's stronghold. Where think you that they would be now?"

Aravan turned to Adaron, the two much alike in appearance. "In other times you and your brother Eiron have been upon the angle of Gryn, even unto Claw Moor and the Iron Tower itself. What say you?"

Adaron though for but a moment. 'If they are five true day to the north, then they have come to the Gwasp; if but four instead, then they are one ride short of that morass, Gelan King. And in three or four 'Darkdays at most, they will come to the Enemy's fortress."

Gelans voice was bleak. "You confirm my thoughts, Lord Adaron. This, then, is my dilemma: ere we can overtake the Ghola, Astariel will be locked in Drego's stronghold, and nothing short of a great army--the Host--will e'er break down those dire doors; and even the Host would be hard-pressed to do so. In any event, foul Drego may maim or even slay the Lady ere the Host can throw down his Tower." He continued, setting forth the seed of a perilous plan: "Perhaps a few can succeed where an army would fail. It can be no more than a hand of people: to gain the walls of Drego's hold, to slip unseen within, and to draw her free."

No one spoke for moments, then Adaron broke the silence: "Gelan King, such a plan might prevail, though I think it unlikely, for the Iron Tower is a mighty fortress. Yet you have spoken of only half of your quandary: the plight of Lady Astariel. The other point of this dilemma is even sharper: the Realm is beset, for Winternight and Drego's Spaunen rave down the Land, and the Host must be led to stop them.

"But Lord Adaron, " responded Gelan, anguish in his voice, "Pellar lies more than one thousand miles to the south. The journey there and return with the Host will take weeks, months."

Again long moments fled in silence, and Igon stirred, then opened his eyes. Clear they were now, not wild, and in the yellow lamplight he saw those around him, a strained smile coming to his lips upon seeing Leila seated beside him, beside Gelan. "Gelan" --Igons voice was thready, weak--"know you of Astariel?" At Gelan's nod, tears welled in Igon's eyes, and he squeezed them shut, the drops to run down his cheeks. "I did not succeed," he whispered. "I did not succeed. I failed in my sword-oath to see her to safety. And now she is in the Enemy's clutch." The Prince fell silent. Time stretched, and just as all had thought that Igon had gone back to sleep: "They were so many, the Ghola, and they cut us down as if we were but sheep led to the slaughter. I was felled, and knew naught thereafter. Next I remember, Rust stood over me, nudging me with his muzzle; how he was spared, I cannot say. So cold, I was so cold, yet I managed to start a fire from a coal still red in the ashes of a smoldering wain." Again the Prince fell silent for a long while, mustering his strength to continue: "Their track was a 'Darkday old, yet I took food and grain and followed. I remember not much of that chase, though it did snow once, and I recall despairing I'd ever find their tracks--yet Rust knew, he knew, and bore me on: Drearwood, perhaps. Dead Ghol next to the forest: was he real? North from there . . . I remember nothing more, Gelan, nothing more." Igon's voice had fallen into a faint whisper. "Gruwen Pass . . . Gryn . . . Drego Kinstealer . . ." The Prince sank again into unconsciousness, the effort spent to eke out his report exhausting his feeble strength.

The healer turned to Gelan. "I do not know where he found the will to speak, for his life ebbs dangerously low. You must leave ere he wakes again, for it drains him beyond his limits to give over his words to you." Aravan spoke up next. "Gelan King, you must eat and rest now, and renew your own strength, for on the marrow you must choose the course you will follow."

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.