Rides a Dread Legion Free with Bonus Material
He looked around. Now, he whispered to himself. Which way did Gulamendis go?
Gulamendis rode quietly along the banks of the river. He had reached the River Boundary earlier in the day and went looking for a ford to cross over. But when he found one, he discovered a discomfort, an inability to cross over into the Elven Forest, and decided to look for another way across.
Now, hours later, he was at the third likely crossing point and still he couldnt bring himself to cross. He stopped and dismounted. Perhaps there was a geas or some other conjuration that prevented him from riding his demon steed into this ancient and sacred forest. He dismissed the mount with a wave of his hand and waited.
He listened. The breeze in the branches sang to him as no other place he had visited, yet there was something odd in the sound, something he didnt quite understand. This land was native to his race, yet he felt alien here, as if he was out of rhythm with this place.
He sighed and sat down on the bank, to ponder his next act. He looked at the bank of the river, less than one hundred yards away, and the water running swiftly over the shallow rocks. It would be effortless to simply stand and walk into the water, making his way to the other side. In his mind he could see himself doing this without any difficulty.
Yet when he tried to step into the water, he could not.
He closed his eyes and used his skills to see if there were wards or a geas in place. There was something, but it wasnt magic as he understood it. This was something more akin to a feeling, as if he had heard an old, familiar melody, but couldnt quite remember it days later. There was a haunting quality to it that disturbed him as much as it called to him.
From behind he heard a voice ask, Having trouble crossing?
The accent was odd, but he understood the words as he quickly came to his feet, his hand going to the hilt of his belt. Gulamendis stood looking down at an elf who was a few inches shorter than he was. Yes, he said slowly. I am having trouble crossing.
The elf tilted his head to one side, as if trying to judge something by the manner of Gulamendiss speech. Like all of his race, he was patient, so he said nothing for a long minute, then said, Nothing of you is familiar, yet you are kin; that I can plainly see. Who are you and from where do you hail?
I am Gulamendis, of a modest but ancient line, recently a citizen in the city of Tarendamar.
Star Home, said the elf. I have never heard of such a place. Tell me, where is it?
On another world, if you can imagine such.
The elf shrugged. I have met those from other worlds, so I can imagine such. But I have never met any of our kin from another world, save those Eldar who returned to us from Kelewan
Eldar? asked Gulamendis. Others of the Eldar are here?
The elf nodded. He was dressed in green leather, from tunic to boots, and across his back carried a finely crafted longbow. Yes. Are you of the Eldar?
Once, said Gulamendis, my people were, though we now call ourselves the Taredhel.
The People of the Stars, said the elf. He smiled. I like that. Come, you may enter Elvandar and we bid you welcome. I presume you wish to speak with the Queen?
Yes, said Gulamendis as he walked into the water, now completely able to do so. I thought a geas or wards prevented my entrance.
More, said the elf. The very woods of Elvandar do not permit anyone to enter without welcome, unless powerful magic is used. Only once in memory have invaders reached the heart of our lands, and they were magicians of great power.
Suddenly two other elves appeared from out of the trees, and Gulamendis halted. The first to speak to him said, I am Cristasia, and these are my companions Lorathan and Gorandis. Weve been watching you for a while, wondering what the problem was.
The one called Gorandis said, Are all your people as tall as you?
Gulamendis noticed he was a good six inches taller than the tallest of the three, Cristasia, and he nodded. I am of average height. Some are taller, but not many.
The elves exchanged glances, and then Gorandis said, Well, we are three days from the Queens court, so we should be off. To Cristasia and Lorathan he said, Continue the patrol and I will guide him.
They nodded and seemed to melt back into the trees as Gorandis started to run up a trail. Gulamendis hesitated then started to run after the elf. He quickly caught up and said, Do you not have mounts?
We do, sometimes, answered the forest elf. We seldom use them unless the journey is long. Three days is hardly worth the bother.
Im not used to running, said Gulamendis, realizing that he was going to be pressed to keep up with this woodland elf.
They wended their way through the woods, moving rapidly along what appeared to be narrow game trails. Twice Gulamendis faltered and once he fell, and Gorandis said, You have no woodcraft, do you?
No, admitted the elf. I am city-born and my time in the wild has been unpleasant.
The wood elf laughed. A city elf! I have never heard of such. Even those who came from across the sea lived on farms or small villages.
Well, there is something new every day, as they say. He turned and started running again. We were wondering if you were trying to be noticed, the way you trudged along the riverbank.
You saw me?
Weve been watching you for nearly the entire day, he replied.
Gulamendis felt nothing so much as annoyance that this rustic was mocking him. Even more irritating was that he was certainly correct; he had no wood skills and had no desire to gain any.
Sandreena awoke instantly; she had her mace in her right hand and gripping her helmet in her left as she started to rise. She was already on her feet with her helmet in place before she was completely aware of what had awakened her. She had crawled out the tiny window of the room she had been given by Enos and made her way as quietly as possible to bed down next to her horse. From her perspective, there was little to choose between the run-in shed and the room. Both had dirt floors, evidence of recent use as a privy, straw to sleep on, and a plethora of bugs with whom to share the straw.
Besides, her horse was well trained and would alert her to any approaching danger, which is what had just occurred. The slight snorting sounds and pawing of the ground would probably not alert anyone nearby, but to Sandreena it was as vivid a warning as any alarm bell in a watchtower. Someone was approaching the little inn in stealthy fashion, and it was almost certain they planned nothing good for the one guest in residence.
As was her habit when outside, she slept in her armor. It was hardly the most restful way to sleep, but she had grown accustomed to it over the years. Moving as lightly as she could, shield high on her left arm, mace in her right, she kept her faceplate up, giving herself the most area of visibility before encountering the enemy.
As she suspected, two figures garbed in black were skulking through the open garden behind the house, heading toward the window that would have been her room. She didnt hesitate, assuming it would only be instants after she saw them that they would see her. She flipped down her visor and charged.
Three steps from her first target, they saw her looming up out of the gloom and before he could turn to meet her, the first assassin was down from a savage blow to his head. Sandreena doubted he would rise to trouble her again. The other assailant had wheeled around, following her movement, so as she turned, he was already lunging at her with a long sword. She caught the swords point on her shield, expertly turning it so that the blade slid along, letting the motion carry the man in black toward her. She punched him as hard in the face as she could with her right hand, still clutching her mace, and the force drove the man backward. Blood flowed down his face from his shattered nose, and he was blinded for a moment. Sandreena swept downward with her mace, catching his heel, causing him to trip backward. He slammed his head against the ground and for a moment was stunned.
She calmly kicked him hard in the side of the head, and he went limp. She really didnt care if the kick killed himthough she thought he was tougher than thatbut she wo
uld like to question one of these Black Caps.
Enos and his family had been reticent to the point where she had threatened to leave them there, to answer for the death of the man she had killed. That had terrified them even more than the possibility of being accused of helping her had.
She really didnt feel sorry for putting them through all thatthey had no way of knowing she couldnt leave them abandoned because of both temple practice and personal ethicsthey were rude and annoying people. She suspected that even under the best of circumstances theyd be cold and rude to strangers.
She quickly checked, and the first man was dead. The second was unconscious and likely to stay that way for a while. She dragged off the body and hid it under old straw on the other side of the run-in shed. These two might have friends.
She knelt to examine the unconscious man and saw his breathing was shallow and fast. She had done more damage than intended. She might not have meant to kill him with the kick to the head, but those things were difficult to control in the heat of the moment; she might have two bodies to bury come first light.
As she began to rise, she sensed someone behind her, and as she spun to defend herself, a blow struck her on the side of the head, glancing down to crack hard into her shoulder. The force of the blow drove her to her knees and only her armor prevented her from suffering a broken shoulder or worse. But the glancing strike to her helmet had caused her just enough disorientation that she was open to another blow from behind. Her last thoughts were, There are two of them! before she collapsed into a dazed semiconsciousness.
There was a hot flash of pain, and then her side went numb, and another pain somewhere else, but she wasnt sure where, then came darkness.
After three days of running, Gulamendis was now certain that if he never had to set foot in woodlands again, he would be content. He would return to the new city, to Home, gladly and never set foot beyond its walls should he be permitted. Whatever sense of wonder and magic he had first encountered was now gone, replaced by fatigued legs and sore feet. He kept up with his rustic cousin by pure act of will, and a tiny bit of magic he used when training demonsit dulled the pain.
His companion had been less than talkative. At night when they camped, the young elfhe had given his age as less than fifty yearshad been content to sit by a fire, chewing on dried fruit and meat, and replied to Gulamendiss questions with short, vague answers. The Demon Master didnt know if Gorandis was especially adept at avoiding conversation or stupid. The second night, there was almost no conversation, and Gulamendis quickly fell into an exhausted sleep.
Throughout the following day they moved quickly and Gulamendis grew used to the grueling pace. He grudgingly conceded his distant kin possessed skills he had disdained until he attempted to duplicate them. Rustic they might be, but they were superb woodsmen, and, no doubt, hunters. Toward twilight he could feel the change around him.
It was something in the very air of this forest, he felt. That tug of emotions so alien yet so proper he first felt upon reaching this world, Home, that feeling grew stronger with every passing minute, as if they were nearing the source of that wonderful sense of place.
Then he entered the clearing and saw Elvandar.
Across the open meadow he could see a huge city of trees rising upward. Gigantic boles, dwarfing any oaks imagined, stood together. They were linked by gracefully arching bridges of branches, flat across the tops, on which elves could be seen crossing from bole to bole.
Gulamendis looked up and saw the trunks rise until they were lost in a sea of leaves and branches, foliage of deep green, made almost blue-black in the evening gloom, but still somehow alight with a soft glow of their own. Here and there Gulamendis could glimpse a tree with golden, silver, or even white foliage, sparkling with pale glimmers. A soft glow permeated the entire area, and Gulamendis dropped to his knees, wetness flowing down his cheeks as tears came unbidden. I had no idea, he whispered.
Gorandis stopped and turned to look at his companion. Whatever emotions played across the Taredhels face, it kept the Eledhel runner from chiding him. This was a moment of deep, personal feeling.
The stars, whispered Gulamendis. You have so many.
Stars? asked Gorandis.
He pointed. The trees. We call thosewe have seven of them, brought with us from this world ages ago. They are the Seven Stars. We are the Clan of the Seven Stars.
Gorandis cocked his head to one side, as if trying to remember something. Then he said, This is how Elvandar has always been.
What greeted the Demon Master was a thicket of massive trees, so many he couldnt tell how far back into the deep forest they ran. He counted and there were a score within sight, and another behind. Moreover, he saw colors of leaves he had never seen before. The Seven Stars numbered four trees of copper bronze leaves, two of a vivid yellow, and one of silver. But here he saw blue leaves, deep green, red, orange, silver, and gold. And all were brilliant with lights that made the shimmering glow of the Seven Stars pale in comparison.
Pulling himself to his feet, the Demon Master said, There are so many.
Gorandis shrugged. I dont know how many, but there are a lot of them. Weve had babies and needed room, so the Spellweavers have planted saplings, and the Master of the Green has urged them to grow quickly. He motioned for Gulamendis to follow. Come, see for yourself.
Gulamendis towered over most of the elves he passed, being nearly seven feet in height. His clothes marked him as alien even if his look hadnt. Nowhere did he see the vivid red color of hair to match his own or his brothers. He saw dark red-brown, and many blond elves, but most had brown or dark brown hair, and their brows were less arched, and their features less finely drawn. To his eye, these were a plain people of unappealing aspect.
The rustic elf took him up a stairway carved out of the living wood of a massive tree, and along branches so wide their backs had been flattened to make boulevards. Upward they climbed, and deeper into the forest they traveled, until at last they reached a massive platform.
Then the Demon Master got an even bigger shock than when first seeing the heart of Elvandar.
Sitting around the edge of the platform were the assembled council of elves, the Spellweavers, the Eldar, and others, but the center was dominated by two thrones. The woman who sat in the highest of the two was regal in her bearing, though by Gulamendiss standards her clothing was simple, lacking any of the delicate needlework and gems he took for granted among the Taredhels ladies. She wore a circlet of gold upon her brow, and her features were lovely, if soft by his peoples standards.
But it was the being sitting next to her that shocked the Demon Master. He sat on a slightly lower throne, but that he was her consort was undoubted. They held hands without thought, as couples long-together do. But he was so much more. For even wearing a simple russet-color tunic and leggings, without armor and arms, he was a warrior born, projecting power like no other being the Demon Master had encountered. In his bones and to the heart of his being he knew this creature: a Valheru.
Welcome, said the Queen. We would know your name and from whence you come.
Softly, without taking his eyes off of the man next to the queen, he said, I am Gulamendis, My Lady. I am a Demon Master of the Clan of the Seven Stars. I come seeking the He stopped and looked around, feeling both drawn by these people and repulsed by them. There was something profoundly familiar about them, yet there was so much that he didnt understand. Finally, he said, I seek help.
How may we aid you? asked the Elf Queen, but she glanced at her companion.
Taking a breath, Gulamendis said, Our lore tells us we came from this place, in the days of madness, when the gods fought in the heavens above. His eyes locked with those of the Queens companion. We fled from this place, across a bridge to the stars, and we abided.
A robed elf stood and said, As did my people, Gulamendis. We were Lorekeepers, Eldar, and abided for centuries on another world before returning here.
Cousin, said Gulamendis. We were
once Eldar, according to our lore. We took the name Clan of the Seven Stars and call ourselves Taredhel.
The man sitting next to the Queen spoke. You departed before the wars end.
Gulamendis nodded, fearful of speaking to the Valheru. Creatures of legend, they were the ultimate masters of the People, and to find one here was terrifying.
I am Tomas, Warleader of Elvandar, said the man, standing, and when he approached, Gulamendis could see there was something different in his manner. I wear the mantle of one lost ages past, and I bear his memories, but I am more. I will tell you that tale at length, some other time, but for now this you must hear from me: you are a free people. That was said in the time of the Chaos Wars, and as it was true then, so it is true now. Abide and rest, and share with us your story, Gulamendis of the Taredhel, for you have found friends if you would have us so.
Despite being nearly half a head taller than Tomas, Gulamendis felt small in his presence. He didnt fully understand the meaning of his words, but found them reassuring. If this was, indeed, a Valheru, he claimed no dominion over these people, or the Taredhel.
Then a strange odor registered on the Demon Masters senses. He had smelled its like while passing through the human town. It was a weed they burned and inhaled. He glanced at the throne and realized that standing in the shadow behind it was a small figure. An old dwarf with nearly white hair stepped out of the shadows, fixing Gulamendis with a skeptical look and drew a long puff off his pipe.
The dwarf said, About time you showed up, lad. We carried word of you here nearly a month back, and I was growing tired of waiting for you to get here.
Tomas smiled and the Queen laughed, her green eyes merry, but the Demon Master was unsettled. They knew he was coming? How? Three weeks ago he was in a cage, as his brother bargained for his life.