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Authors: C. S. Marks
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fared well in conflicts against Lord Wrothgar—not well at all. If the rumors of Gaelen and Ri-Elathan were true, it was not the only line that would end.
Gaelen had learned many things in Monadh-talam that disquieted her. Alduinar of Tuathas was preparing for the onslaught of Kotos’ northern army. Ri-Elathan and his Elven host were to gather together near the Northern Mountains and then march to the ruined lands of Tal-elathas, for that was then the location of Wrothgar’s Dark Tower.
As the time of war drew near, Nelwyn approached her cousin as she sat near the riverbank, her thoughts far away. Gaelen sensed her presence, though she did not immediately acknowledge it. “He is leaving Mountain-home—he moves east, toward the Greatwood, and then north to the Dark Fortress,” she said in a distant, misty voice.
“Who is leaving Mountain-home? What are you speaking of?” Nelwyn was unaccustomed to such vague communication from her usually straightforward cousin.
Gaelen turned to face Nelwyn, grasping one of her hands so tightly that the younger Elf drew back in apprehension. “What I am about to tell you must not be revealed to anyone. Do you understand?”
Nelwyn nodded, and Gaelen relaxed her grip, but did not let go of Nelwyn’s hand. Gaelen trusted her cousin, and as the tale unfolded she knew how unbelievable it sounded, yet Nelwyn did not waver or appear to doubt her. For this, and for her silence, Gaelen would be forever grateful, especially given the importance of what she now revealed. “The host of the Greatwood prepares to march to war. I intend to follow them,” she said at last, her face deadly serious.
Nelwyn gasped. “You cannot mean it! I have heard my father speak of this conflict to come—they go to challenge the host of the Dark Power, with foes unimaginable. I have heard him speak of dragons, and Bödvari, and Ulcas without number!” Nelwyn looked at her cousin, dismayed but not surprised to see that this swayed her not at all. Even when she was thinking clearly, it was not unlike Gaelen to focus with grim tenacity on an objective despite nearly impossible odds, and it would be many years before she learned to respond with greater prudence. Nelwyn gripped Gaelen’s other hand. “You are not trained or skilled in the art of open warfare—you would not survive!”
Gaelen shook her head, a note of impatience in her voice. “Few of our people are so trained and skilled, yet they are going to war; they make the preparations even now. The one to whom I am bound rides forth to lead them to whatever destiny awaits. I will be at his side…or fall in the attempt. I mean to wait until our host has departed and then follow them. Everyone will assume I have gone out into the forest, as is my habit. You must remain here and reassure them if they should become suspicious. Will you aid me?”
Nelwyn stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me that you want me to be complicit in sending you to your death? You want me to remain behind while you follow this incredibly foolhardy course and hide the truth from those who care for you? Do not expect such from me, Gaelen, for I cannot comply. I swore not to reveal your secret with respect to your betrothal, but I cannot aid you in this. Please, if you care anything for Ri-Elathan, or for me, do not pursue this course. Stay here where you will be safe.”
Gaelen’s eyes flashed. “There are no safe places anymore! This war is upon us all, wherever we may dwell. And I will not see my love standing in such a place of horror and death without me at his side. This time of separation from him has been painful enough. The conflict may go on for years. I could not bear it…you cannot understand.” Tears of desperation started in her eyes, and she turned from Nelwyn, enfolding her arms upon her knees and burying her face in them, weeping.
Nelwyn, who had rarely known Gaelen to weep, waited for a moment, unsure of what to do. This talk was sheer
Gaelen had learned many things in Monadh-talam that disquieted her. Alduinar of Tuathas was preparing for the onslaught of Kotos’ northern army. Ri-Elathan and his Elven host were to gather together near the Northern Mountains and then march to the ruined lands of Tal-elathas, for that was then the location of Wrothgar’s Dark Tower.
As the time of war drew near, Nelwyn approached her cousin as she sat near the riverbank, her thoughts far away. Gaelen sensed her presence, though she did not immediately acknowledge it. “He is leaving Mountain-home—he moves east, toward the Greatwood, and then north to the Dark Fortress,” she said in a distant, misty voice.
“Who is leaving Mountain-home? What are you speaking of?” Nelwyn was unaccustomed to such vague communication from her usually straightforward cousin.
Gaelen turned to face Nelwyn, grasping one of her hands so tightly that the younger Elf drew back in apprehension. “What I am about to tell you must not be revealed to anyone. Do you understand?”
Nelwyn nodded, and Gaelen relaxed her grip, but did not let go of Nelwyn’s hand. Gaelen trusted her cousin, and as the tale unfolded she knew how unbelievable it sounded, yet Nelwyn did not waver or appear to doubt her. For this, and for her silence, Gaelen would be forever grateful, especially given the importance of what she now revealed. “The host of the Greatwood prepares to march to war. I intend to follow them,” she said at last, her face deadly serious.
Nelwyn gasped. “You cannot mean it! I have heard my father speak of this conflict to come—they go to challenge the host of the Dark Power, with foes unimaginable. I have heard him speak of dragons, and Bödvari, and Ulcas without number!” Nelwyn looked at her cousin, dismayed but not surprised to see that this swayed her not at all. Even when she was thinking clearly, it was not unlike Gaelen to focus with grim tenacity on an objective despite nearly impossible odds, and it would be many years before she learned to respond with greater prudence. Nelwyn gripped Gaelen’s other hand. “You are not trained or skilled in the art of open warfare—you would not survive!”
Gaelen shook her head, a note of impatience in her voice. “Few of our people are so trained and skilled, yet they are going to war; they make the preparations even now. The one to whom I am bound rides forth to lead them to whatever destiny awaits. I will be at his side…or fall in the attempt. I mean to wait until our host has departed and then follow them. Everyone will assume I have gone out into the forest, as is my habit. You must remain here and reassure them if they should become suspicious. Will you aid me?”
Nelwyn stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me that you want me to be complicit in sending you to your death? You want me to remain behind while you follow this incredibly foolhardy course and hide the truth from those who care for you? Do not expect such from me, Gaelen, for I cannot comply. I swore not to reveal your secret with respect to your betrothal, but I cannot aid you in this. Please, if you care anything for Ri-Elathan, or for me, do not pursue this course. Stay here where you will be safe.”
Gaelen’s eyes flashed. “There are no safe places anymore! This war is upon us all, wherever we may dwell. And I will not see my love standing in such a place of horror and death without me at his side. This time of separation from him has been painful enough. The conflict may go on for years. I could not bear it…you cannot understand.” Tears of desperation started in her eyes, and she turned from Nelwyn, enfolding her arms upon her knees and burying her face in them, weeping.
Nelwyn, who had rarely known Gaelen to weep, waited for a moment, unsure of what to do. This talk was sheer
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