Chapter X:
The Breaking of the Siege
The River Path
In the Golden days of Falruvis, the waters of the great Falsi River were, by the wisdom and skill of the elves, tamed and channelled into the city according to the needs of its citizens, rather than the dictates of the terrain. Though much had deteriorated in the ages that followed, there was yet a path into the city through the water, for those who knew where to look.
Following the instructions of Rahdmus they came, on the twenty seventh day of Solest, to a small cave hidden among the reeds on the river bank. Were it not for his careful instructions, it would have been impossible for them to discover it. The entrance was large, however, and they had little trouble getting their horses into the tunnels. Revere's horse almost refused, for the road was very dark and wet. Novai seemed content enough, however, and walked peacefully even in the blackness. Both horses were in better spirits once Revere lit a torch. Thus began their long journey in the dark.
For several days they journeyed, always being careful to keep their torches lit and dry. As they went on the road fell down, following the course of the river. To their right they could hear the rushing water, and in some places they could feel the cool spray of the water as portions of the Falsi were channelled through those tunnels in large stone canals. Great care they took, lest they lose their footing and fall into the river. This very nearly happened on several occasions. Twice Daryas was saved by grasping the bridle of Novai at the last moment. Revere almost complained of his carelessness, but even as he opened his mouth to speak, his own feet forsook him and he pulled himself up by his horse's ankle.
Uncertain of their surroundings, the two went along silently, saying only things like, 'We ought to turn to the right here,' or 'watch your step there.' But as they went Daryas began to feel uneasy. In the daylight his shadow now troubled him greatly, bringing to his mind the fell words he had heard when he had gone into the darkness to retrieve the Sword of Pelas. But now the darkness troubled him more, seeming to fill the whole world with the blackness of his own heart. It wasn't long before he heard footsteps and a heavy breathing behind him. Then, the shadow spoke to him.
'To what do you now march?' the voice asked, with a tone of feigned curiosity.
'I march to Dadron, and to war,' Daryas replied with a whisper, lest Revere should hear him.
'Why do you speak so softly, son of Biron?'
'I have always spoken softly,' he answered.
'Indeed, I know it well. You have always spoken softly lest I should be discovered and some other would come to know me even as you have.'
'I do not know you,' Daryas protested.
'Yet you are very familiar with me nonetheless.'
'You speak nonsense!' Daryas said with frustration.
'What else ought I to speak? I make no claim to wisdom. But I dare say I do make a claim to honesty; something you know nothing about. For were you an honest man, you would be hated by all. Men know you, but they do not know me; therefore they know not Daryas. Only his shell have they apprehended - the depth of his heart they have not seen.' Daryas continued to walk in silence, hoping this devil would grow weary and depart. 'You say you go to war,' Lutrosis said. Daryas said nothing.
Suddenly Daryas felt a strong hand upon his hair. His head was yanked back and he fell into the darkness. There he saw again the glowing green eyes of his enemy. 'You will not ignore me, son of Biron,' he said. I have walked your paths for many years, and hidden when I was told. You owe me an answer, and an answer I will extract from you. To what end do we go to war?'
'We go to save my people from death - if it is at all possible.'
'You would die for them?' Lutrosis asked with surprise.
'I will kill for them at least,' Daryas said. Soberly he added, 'yet to die for my people I would not be ashamed.'
'Why should you kill for the sake of your countrymen? Are not your enemies men also? Why choose the one over the other?'
'Yet our enemies are usurpers, invaders, and oppressors.'
Lutrosis laughed, 'As are all men from time to time. What nation is established without bloodshed? What people come to prominence without injustice? You love these people because they are your countrymen. Fight for them on that account. But do not pretend it is more than that. You know as well as I that the soldiers of Marin and the warriors of Amlaman are as innocent as the Daevaron they have destroyed. Soldiers are noble for obedience, and they are not permitted to have private judgment on where they turn their swords. You err, then, when you call such men your enemies.'
'Yet shall I let them trample my kin into the dust?'
'Indeed not,' Lutrosis said, 'You will fight and kill many Amlamani men and Marin girls. But you will not do it for holiness, you will do it for yourself and those to whom your heart is given. In fact, you will fight for my sake.'
In silence they continued for another few minutes. But at last the voice of Lutrosis spoke again, saying, 'Do you recall a time when your brother came upon an army of ants?'
Daryas felt sick for a moment, 'How can you know of such a thing? That was many years ago, when we were still very small.'
'Yet I know of it,' Lutrosis laughed, 'There are a great many things I know of, son of Biron, and this will be the least of your surprises.'
'I remember it,' Daryas said.
'There were many thousands of ants, all of them black, all of them of the same size. To look upon them at a distance you would see only what seemed to be a patch of dirt or a pile of mud. But when you drew nearer to them you saw that it was a great host of ants in a great flurry of activity. To young eyes it could be discerned that each ant was face to face with another, biting and pinching at the other. Many ants, in fact, lay dead upon the ground already. Many hours this lasted, until at last the ants grew weary, or until one of the hosts was victorious - who can tell? Then they departed, leaving the dead to be consumed by birds and rats. Tell me Daryas, son of Biron, were their goals less lofty than yours? For what did they slaughter one another? Was it for a dirt patch, like that upon which Dadron is built? Or some piece of rotted fruit, worth more to the ants than all the wealth of men? Did they even know what it was for which they died and killed? Do the women of Marin understand what they fight for? Do the men of Amlaman know who it is that they march to kill? Are the Noras so good? Are their enemies so wicked? What do you know of war, that you march to it?'
'What would you have me do?' Daryas said with great frustration. 'I go to save those for whom I care. I go for the sake of my father in prison and my brother who yet lives in exile. I go to save my cousin. Would you have me forsake them?'
'No, I would not,' Lutrosis answered. 'I would have you be honest, and know that the blood you spill is as clean and red as your own. Spill it nonetheless! We are all but ants, and now and again we must, for the sake of our will, do battle against those who cross our paths.'
'What is the purpose of all this talk,' Daryas asked.
'I wanted to be sure,' he answered, 'that you were fighting for the right reasons.'
'What are the right reasons?'
'When you draw your blade in battle, when you spill the innocent blood of your foes, you will be fighting for my sake.'
'Who are you that I should fight for your sake?'
'You still do not understand. You exist for my sake! Will you then fight for the sake of another?'
'You speak still more nonsense.'
'Of course I do,' the voice said, 'Making sense of things will always be your problem, and I dare say you will ever have a remainder in your calculations so long as you do not comprehend this. Who says that I must conform myself to your reasons? Why should not your reasons conform themselves to my will?'
'Why should I serve you?'
'You say it as if you have a choice! Daryas, you have always served me, though you have denied me and hidden me in dark places, lest other eyes see me in my ugliness. You will fight for me, and I will, in turn, fight for you in a man
ner of speaking. You have a desire, even as do I. I swear to you now by every good thing under heaven, that if you will put your sword into my hand and let me fight in your stead, I will bring you at last to the woman you love, and you will appear before her without a shadow - even as she has required.'
'How do you know such things?' Daryas said with great emotion and surprise.
'I have been with you for many long years, Daryas, and for many long years I shall remain with you. I have your best interest at heart, dear brother, though you have long tried to hide it from yourself.'
'How can you help me?' Daryas asked. 'How will such a creature of darkness help me escape from darkness?'
'You forget, Daryas, that it was to this very end that you have sought me out. Did not Rahdmus tell you that by means of the Sword of Pelas you would be saved from darkness? Why then are you so unwilling to speak with me? Why are you so short tempered with me? Am I not here to save you?'
'Of that I am entirely unconvinced,' Daryas laughed. 'You contradict all that I have been taught, whether by my old teachers in Noras or by the strangers from south. But tell me, haunter of dark corners, what interest have you in fighting on my behalf?'
'Fighting itself, of course,' he answered. 'Do you not know that there is thrill in battle? Do you not know that there is honor in victory? Do you not know that there is reward in war?'
'Thrill in battle? You talk as though warfare was a good thing.'
'To me it is,' he said. 'You have need of battle, and I have desire of it.'
'You will not fight on my behalf,' Daryas said sternly. 'I have been charged with a task, and I will not permit you to meddle with it. For it has been given to me by heaven itself.'
At that moment Lutrosis fell upon him and threw him to the ground with great force. He struck him in the face several times and wrested the Sword of Pelas from his hands. 'Fool,' he said, 'if you will not willingly surrender to me, then I will simply take what I want. Why fight me, then?'
'Because you are a devil,' Daryas said, trying to regain his breath.
'So you say,' Lutrosis said, 'By your own estimate I am a devil. What else shall I do then, but act devilishly? But I will fight for you in Dadron, son of Biron, and I will have honor and glory in plenty. Also, I will keep my word. I will do all that I please; consulting with you is a mere matter of courtesy.'
'At least,' Daryas laughed, 'you are a courteous devil, then!'
'You will be much happier, Daryas, when you realize that you have as much need of me as I have of you.'
Thus ended their dialogue, and much to Daryas' surprise, Revere had heard not so much as a word of their conversation, nor had he heard Daryas hit the ground when he fell. In the darkness of those tunnels Daryas began to pray for nightmares, for he preferred them now to his waking reality.
Sorrow in the City
When it seemed the tunnel could not go any further, they suddenly came upon what seemed to be an underground city of some kind. They passed beneath an arch of cut stone and entered a large hall. There were, from what could be seen in the torchlight, great storehouses and apartments, blocked roads, leading to where no man could guess. There were great chains hanging about and enormous gates, long broken down in rusted ruins. In this place the wisdom of the elves had lorded itself over the mighty river, channelling it through the city according to their will and their needs. But in the end, it appeared, the Falsis River triumphed over the cunning of the immortals, and had broken apart their walls and beaten down many of their gates and pathways. For the River had Time itself as its ally, which even the so called Immortals failed to master. It was, therefore, with great difficulty that Revere chose their course. When at last they came to the end of the hall they saw for the first time in many days, a flicker of natural light. It was only feint spark in the distance, but it's great intensity made their torches seem like candles in comparison.
At last they emerged from the caverns and saw that they were standing within the walls of Dadron, though in an empty and ruined section of the city. 'We must be in the main city,' Revere said as he looked around. Such light could never reach Dusktown.' He looked around and saw the broken down city, 'So much for the city of the nobles,' he said.
'Dadron is a very large city,' Daryas said, 'It should not surprise us to find some portion or another to have fallen into ruins.'
Indeed, it was not long before they had come to a place where men dwelt. It was still very much diminished from the glory of the ancient city, but it was by no means a city of ruins. 'They must have abandoned the caverns after the elves were destroyed,' Daryas said. 'I imagine Dadron's usurpers were in no position to maintain the cunning inventions of the immortals.'
As they passed through the streets of the city they saw many women, both old and young, but no young men. A few boys they saw here and there, and a few elderly men also, but there were no men of warrior age to be seen. 'The city was as yet at peace, but a darkness hung over every brow, and a sadness on every heart. The children played as silently as ghosts. On every young woman's eye was seen great anxiety and fearfulness. In the eyes of the older women was a gloom and a hopelessness.
'For what would men war against such as these?' Daryas said, shaking his head in disdain. 'They have done nothing to Marin; they have done nothing to Amlaman.'
'War is not about justice, Daryas.' Revere said, 'Were it so, men would not fight in the first place. To march against the innocent, or to trample the innocent as you march to the guilty, rights no wrongs and restores nothing to the dead.'
'Yet it is difficult,' Daryas said, 'to see these fearful faces and not desire to free them from their enemies.'
It was on the first day of Fuehas, under a bright summer sun, that Daryas and Revere at last entered the city of Dadron. Yet they were not greeted with any amount of excitement or joy. Olver was dead, and the men of the city were discouraged. The appearance of two strangers, men of Noras though they be, was not sufficient to lift their spirits. The men of Noras greeted Daryas with affection, but it was clear that the sight of the younger Galvahirne was not sufficient to renew their hope.
Redwin took Daryas aside and asked him if there was any news of Cheftan Biron. When Daryas had told him what he knew, the old man immediately went on to ask for news of his brother. The disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable as he apprehended that Dynamis would not be coming to Dadron directly. 'Truly in the might of his arm we might rest for a great while in safety.'
'He cannot come,' Daryas said, 'there would be no way to bring the whole Remnant of Galva through Amlaman to Dadron without exposing ourselves to great peril. As it is, Dynamis awaits the movement of the main force of Amlaman, and perhaps better fortunes, ere he spends the blood of our people in war.'
'Would that I could see him, though,' he said, 'Then the people would have hope again.'
'I wish my brother were here more than any of you,' Daryas said, 'but nonetheless he is not. I cannot take his place in the esteem of our people, but if I can do but half of what he is able, it may be that the people will find their hearts strengthened.'
That evening, the body of Olver was laid to rest in a tomb in the upper city of Dadron, where the ancestors of Lord Akellnarva himself were buried. 'A sad hour claimed his life and his wisdom,' he said to Kardian, 'but it claimed not his honor, nor his valor.'
'We would have been better served by his life and wisdom, however,' Kardian replied soberly.
When Olver was buried and the night was at last full, Lord Akellnarva summoned Revere and Daryas to his throne. There Daryas and Revere were called upon to give an account of all that had transpired between the time the goblins first appeared in the Coronan Mountains and the moment they emerged from the hidden waterways of Dadron. To all this he listened intently, only interrupting now again to further clarify what he had heard. Daryas told him nothing of Lutrosis, who, much to his relief, he now knew to be visible and audible to himself alone.
Akellnarva called Daryas to his throne and gave him t
he right hand of friendship. 'In the darkest hour of the elves, Galvahir himself made good his promise to Lord Falruvis of the Argent. He died defending this very city. Though the elves have all been slain, or have all sought refuge in the myst of Solsis, the memory of Galvahir's bravery survives and endures within these walls. And not Galvahir alone; many of his sons have fought on Dadron's behalf in the time since the elves were at last defeated. The fates, it would seem, of that strange and brave forest tribe and the fate of this city are bound together by an unbreakable bond of friendship and loyalty. I welcome you to this city, therefore, and I accept your service with humility and gratitude. Captain over all the men of Noras you shall be made at least. Who can tell what greater honors await the son of Biron?'
'You are most gracious,' Daryas said with a low bow, 'Galvahir himself owed much to this city, and we in turn, as his descendants, still must look to this city with delight and reverence.'
'It is a pity, though, that you came at the hour when you did. Had you come but a day sooner, Olver may have had hope enough to restrain his desperation. But who can know what the purposes of the gods are?'
After they had spoken, Lord Akellnarva bid a meal be prepared for them. The food they ate was like none that they had ever set eyes upon. It was as if a millennia of art and wisdom was poured into every cut of meat and every dash of spice.
There were brought to them many different kinds of bread. Some were long and crusty, others round and buttery. Some were so sweet that a single bite was sufficient to satisfy one's hunger. So much flavor was in each loaf of bread that butter was unnecessary. There was a great deal of butter provided nonetheless, and Daryas was very generous with his portions. 'If you add good to good,' he told Revere, 'you cannot go wrong.'
'Indeed,' Revere laughed as he too partook of the excess of Dadron.
There was beef roasted to perfection and seasoned with a very sweet sauce and with a sprinkling of herbs and sea salt, such as they gather in Kollun. There were also many vegetables, cooked in oil, and several strange pieces of fruit, which, they were informed, 'come from the deepest jungle in Kharku.'
When they had finished dining, Lord Akellnarva sent his family away and turned his attention once more to the siege, asking for news of Dynamis, and whether any help would come from Noras. Daryas then told him of the men he had met with in the forest and how there were many thousands of faithful men and women among them, and many more who would become so once their tyrant was overthrown.
'It is encouraging news, son of Biron,' Akellnarva said as he listened, 'but nonetheless, the Noras are more in need of aid than able to provide it. But I will say this at least: If the men of Noras prove faithful, and the city of Dadron is delivered, then all that remains of our strength will be set against the fool of Oastirland.'
When all their councils were at last finished, Lord Akellnarva asked Daryas if there were anything he might need. To this Daryas replied, with an unexpected boldness, 'Indeed, my lord, I wish to ride out against our enemies on the morrow.'
Lord Akellnarva looked at him with great surprise. 'And meet a like fate as your kinsman? I forbid it.'
Revere looked at his comrade as if he had never met him before. 'Daryas,' he whispered, 'what are you doing?'
'I must ask yet again, my lord,' Daryas insisted, 'that the gates be opened and I be permitted to ride into battle without delay. For only then will the hand of Cheft Ponteris be removed from my father's neck. Should Biron fall, and his sons remain hidden in shadow, the will of the Noras will falter utterly. There will, then, be no Noras to restore, should victory be granted to this city.'
'You speak with the boldness of your ancestors,' Akellnarva said with new respect for him. 'If the stories of their courage and bravado are true. But tell me, what will there be to save of Dadron if another of their heroes are lost to the beast of Vestron? Surely the wills of our people are set on edge as well, and our warriors are ready to fall into despair. You saw the look on their faces, I presume, when you entered this city. What will they do when it is said that Daryas as well has fallen?'
'I will not fall,' he said, seeming to both Revere and the lord of the city to be a different person entirely. 'And I will commit myself to this: That I will not challenge the monster, nor fight any longer than I must to make it known among my enemies that the son of Biron yet breathes. That alone will stay the hand of Ponteris.'
'On the morrow, then,' Akellnarva said, 'we will set our fates on the winds of chance, to see what will become of our people. May Pelas' hand be upon you.'
To this Daryas did not reply, for it was to make an end of Pelas that he had been sent.
The Son of Galvahir
That night, the weather turned violent, and thunder roared throughout the night. The wind howled, blowing away many of the tents of Marin and Amlaman, sending their soldiers into confusion and fright. Lightning ripped the sky asunder overhead, and rain poured out upon them like a waterfall. The morning came, and the violence of the evening faded away into a ghostly silence. The sun did not appear, for the clouds were yet very thick, threatening still more storms.
It was then that the gates of Dadron creaked and roared, opening for the son of Biron. Daryas rode out of the gates first, riding upon Novai with a helm of iron upon his head. A great plume of bright green flowed from this helm, and matched in hue the banners of the Galva army. Behind him rode many brave men of Noras, and Revere also came up beside him. Trumpets roared throughout the city, echoing down into the lands wherein their enemies lay in wait. Soaked and miserable, the soldiers of Marin and Amlaman were unprepared for combat.
First Daryas struck at the place where Natham had slain his cousin. He guessed correctly enough that the great monster would no longer be in that place, but for appearance's sake he wanted to make it seem as though he sought his blood in revenge (for indeed he did, though he had committed himself to avoid such an encounter).
He made an end of the Marin soldiers that had occupied that place, and he drove out all the hirelings of Olgrost who had taken to looting what little remained of the outer lands of Dadron. Great portions of the city he freed from the soldiers of Marin, and nearly seventy desperate survivors were brought back to the city, there to be nursed back to health and hope. Indeed, the sight of these sickly people being saved from the blaze of their enemies was enough to bring hope into the hearts of the men and women of Dadron.
But most encouraging to them all was the appearance of the Sword of Pelas. It was unmistakable in its might. When it was drawn, it seemed to capture the light of day for itself, darkening all that surrounded it. Almost in a daze men stood by and watched as it drew nearer and nearer to them, finally slashing their heads from their shoulders. Terrible was the wrath of Daryas in that day. When his helm was set upon his head it was thought that his eyes caught a gleam of light reflected from the plume of his helmet; and for an instant, it was said, his eyes glowed like a green fire. It was really Lutrosis that rode out to war on that morning - a creature of cruelty and bloodlust. Little difference might it make in war, whether the warrior weeps or rejoices to see men slain, but to Daryas, it was almost more than he could bear. To himself he seemed a mere observer on that day, though to others he grew in esteem almost to match his brother, nay, almost to match his first father Galvahir. When he returned to the city at the fall of night, he was hailed, not as the son of Biron, but as the son of Galvahir, as though his own father's reputation were not high enough an honor.
Everywhere he went that day he saw fit to proclaim, 'Vengeance upon the heads of Biron's enemies! Daryas Galvahirne lives and breathes! Hear it, O foes of Noras, O friends of treachery, Daryas the son of Biron still draws breath!'
It was said, by those who rode at his side, that he slew in that day, one thousand men, and hundreds of soldiers of Marin.
'Me?' Revere told Captain Kardian upon their return, 'I think I slew three, though I cannot be sure about the third.'
'There will be, I fear, time enough for increase,' Kard
ian said somberly.
From that day forth, Kardian no longer felt disappointed to see Daryas in his brother's stead. 'If the elder son of Biron is indeed the greater, then we might yet have cause for more than hope.'
But to all such praises Daryas said only, 'It was not by my own strength that all this was accomplished.' This his companions took to mean that he attributed his victory to the gods, or to Pelas in particular, but to Daryas, who alone knew his own dark thoughts, it was clear that the strength of Lutrosis was greater than his own by far. 'I could not so much as lift a finger by my own strength,' he mourned to himself. 'How powerless am I, and how omnipotent is the devil within me!'
Though it seemed to him to be by the efforts of some foreign power, the desire of Daryas was in that day fulfilled; for the rumor of his might, and the terror of his sword came quickly to the ears of Cheft Ponteris, filling him with dread.
Even as his messengers spoke, saying, 'The son of Biron lives!' he heard the voice of Rahdmus saying, 'Galvahir will again bear the sacred sword.' Just a day earlier he had ordered a great feast to be made, for he had received word of Olver's death. But when it came time to celebrate he found his appetite had left him. 'The old fool fancies himself a prophet now,' he grumbled, trying very hard to remember what else Rahdmus been said on that night. The words that came into his mind, however, was this line, 'By your own flesh and blood shall your end come.' His eyes grew dark and his mood sour from that day forth, and he sent a messenger to Sion, summoning him to Oastir-la without delay.
Daruvis
Of all living souls, he had the greatest claim on the lordship of the Mighty Fortress of Dadron. Yet of all souls he was perhaps the most unworthy of such a title. Lord Daruvis, son of Falruvis the Argent lord, entered the city of Dadron on the morning of the eighth day of Fuehas, beneath a bright hot sun. He entered not by the gates as he did in the Golden age, when he was trusted by his father and loved by his people. But rather, he entered in through the secret waterways that only the Argent elves of old knew. He was greeted by guards, who had been assigned to watch over that entrance lest it be discovered by the enemies of the city. Accordingly, Rahdmus and I were accosted the moment we set foot into the sunlight. We were blindfolded, bound hand and foot, and carried to the palace of Lord Akellnarva. Neither among his own people, or within his own city would Daruvis find welcome.
'What are your names,' he required of us, 'And for what do you enter this woebegotten city?'
'I am, these days, a traveler of little account,' Rahdmus said. 'But it once was that in this city my counsel was cherished. I come at this hour that the defenses of this land might be made sure, according to the ancient wisdom of the elves.'
Lord Akellnarva looked carefully upon us for a long while, as if to measure our words with his gaze. Finally, when he had looked deeply into our eyes, and when he had given our words some thought he said, 'You are one of the Ancients, I perceive. But for what do you come to the aid of this city? And what reward would you have, should your counsel prove true?'
'My reward I have spent already. I must now work to earn it, my lord.'
'What is your name, and how is it that you lay claim upon such knowledge of this city that you would, by that knowledge, save it in its hour of need?'
'I am called Rahdmus,' he answered, 'but in better days was I Daruvis, son of Falruvis.'
Lord Akellnarva stood from his seat, and threw his scepter to the floor at Daruvis' feet. 'Then you have more claim upon the lordship of this city than I!'
Rahdmus sighed and shook his head. 'I am one who ought to be dead, my lord,' he said. 'My life is ended, and all authority and inheritance with it. Power is born of that great Eternal power to which the whole world is a shadow, and to whom that power passes we cannot hope to alter. Fate, if you will, has given the rule of Dadron into your hands; and they are more worthy hands than my own.'
'But not more capable,' Lord Akellnarva said. 'To you I still offer the scepter.'
'And I yet refuse, for the lord of Dadron must protect his people. I am forbidden to draw the blade, by the command of one greater than I. It is by words alone that I must aid this city, even as it was by sword that I once betrayed it.'
'Your words seem dark to me, Lord Daruvis, by what shall I know that I can trust your words.'
'By this alone,' Rahdmus said, 'I am, as I said, one who ought to be dead.' With those words he showed the Lord of Dadron those fatal scars, saying, 'Yet I live that I might bring, as it were, a message from the dead to those yet living. Have hope, son of Daevaron, and see to it that the defenses of the city hold. For it will not be long ere your enemies are destroyed and peace is restored to this great valley.'
Thus began the great friendship of Rahdmus and Lord Akellnarva of Dadron. Rahdmus showed Akellnarva many hidden secrets, which men had not uncovered in all the years since the elves vanished away. Together they went into the depths of the cellars and dungeons of Dadron's palaces, and into the waterways and hidden paths of the city. They walked along the battlements from beginning to end, and Lord Akellnarva understood, for the first time one might almost say, the cunning defenses of his own city. Hidden paths were revealed, that had not hitherto been known or even imagined; paths by which men might, if need be, slip from the city and onto the fields beyond the walls. Paths also, which could not be discerned by any skill of perception. So well hidden these were that they seemed in every way to be mere walls or mere cracks in the stone. 'Truly the cunning of the elves is unsurpassed!' Akellnarva marveled.
'Unsurpassed only in scale,' Rahdmus said, 'But not in cunning. For that crown must ever rest upon the Delvers, who hide themselves in the deeps of the earth.'
The most valuable of all the things that Rahdmus showed to Lord Akellnarva was the system of paths, leading from Dusktown to the Main City. These were constructed in such a way that, when they were closed, they could not be discerned from the bare walls. Further, they could be opened only from within. These great structures were, in essence, so many gates by which the people of the lower city might, should the need arise, escape to the upper part of the Fortress. These gates could then be slid back into place in such a way that they were immovable to those below. 'How is it, then,' Lord Akellnarva marveled, 'that ever the Lord of Dadron fell into the hands of his enemies?'
'It is because he was given over to them by his own,' Rahdmus said.
Lord Akellnarva looked uneasy, 'It is a troubling thing,' he said, 'to think of such betrayal.'
'Fear not, my lord,' Rahdmus said. 'You see the great engines that remove these gates from their places, and you see how it is built so that none but those within can move them. There is naught that I can do to harm this city now. If it was so, that I wished once more to betray this city, would I not have gone first to the men of Amlaman? Or to the women of Marin? And if these had known all these secrets before you did, would this city yet be standing?'
That winter, on the morning of the thirteenth day of Ornus, Lord Akellnarva brought Rahdmus to the Temple of Pelas and sent away all the priests. Together the two of them stood long in the shadow of Lord Pelas' statue, talking in hushed voices. Sometime in the evening they disappeared from sight, passing to the northern side of the throne of Pelas. I do not doubt that there was, in that place, some hidden door or secret chamber of which the men of Dadron knew nothing. Indeed, I do not doubt but that Daruvis alone among all living creatures knew of that secret place to which they had vanished. It was not for a great while that the mystery of that day would be revealed.
Throughout all that time Rahdmus took to the task of reordering the armies of Dadron and restoring the great engines that moved the hidden gates of Dusktown. In this work he was occupied from dawn until dusk - nay, beyond nightfall at times he could be seen working in some dark hall by firelight. By the start of Paschest the hidden gates opened almost without so much as a rumble and the soldiers of Dadron knew how best to defend the city, and where they might, if need arise, set their feet upon secret paths to escap
e to the higher sections of the stronghold.
For my part, as I am no warrior, I took to the libraries of Dadron, which were, in those days, yet filled with great volumes of elven lore. More stories than, I suppose, my readers could stomach might well be brought forth from their records. But only such accounts as bear relevance to our present narrative will I, in this work, recount. Suffice it to say, the word of Rahdmus regarding the history of the elves was greatly confirmed by these accounts and histories. Not, I say, what he taught to the sad prince of Amlaman, in the dark chambers of Ramlos Fortress, but rather those things which he was later to reveal in Dadron and in Amlaman. But these I will leave until their proper time.
The result of their strange meeting in the Temple of Pelas, strange and alarming though it seemed to all the men of the city, was the abandoning of the Regal Sacrifices. In other words, never again did Lord Akellnarva set fire upon the altar of Pelas. He did not forbid the priests, and what people of the city that yet desired to do so, but he removed the royal office from the ancient religion of Dadron once and, he intended, for all.
The Brave and Faithful of Marin
Under Natham's command was a mixed company of all such soldiers as Marin deemed unworthy to fight in the army of Ollitov or of Nerria. It was the desire of the rulers of Marin that the monster inflict such damage as he was able upon the armies of Dadron and of Daevaron, but then to perish in the end, bereft of competent support. But it soon came to be that the force that was once made up of the weakest soldiers and the most unruly mercenaries, was transformed into the strongest and most noble of the armies of Marin. Between the great honor he displayed in battle and the wisdom he had acquired from Whately, he had become a legend in the army of Marin, even beyond his own small force.
As time drew on, however, his soldiers grew weary of camping about the invulnerable city, and they sought to see if they might, by some means, enter into the city. To avoid the eyes of the men on the walls, they went in parties of two and encompassed the whole city, searching for some crevice, some cave, some secret door, by which they might find entrance into the city. This task was undertaken primarily by Arakai, a mercenary of southern Olgrost, who was the most faithful of all those under his Natham's command. After nearly two months of careful searching, Arakai returned to their camp with news of a place where the wall had been neglected. 'In ages past a repair was attempted,' he reported, 'but it is crumbling and weak. When the sun is in the east, just an hour before the noon, light can be seen shining through the wall.'
In the middle of the night, at a time when they knew there would be none upon that part of the wall, they sent a climber, a slender soldier named Ilea, up the wall to see if there could be found some way of entering the city. Arakai and a few others followed her as far as they dared, but the last league from the ruins of the outer city to the wall of the Fortress she had to pass alone. 'One shadow, passing in the night will not bend the eyes of the watchers upon the wall. But two or three will draw their attention with a surety,' Arakai said as they plotted.
Ilea was small and lightfooted; she made her way to the wall without making so much as a sound. Her family dwelt in the shadow of the mountains of Zoor, and as it was with many in that region, so it was in her own village; that the children would spend their summers climbing the enormous boulders and rocks that dotted the landscape of southern Olgrost.
With great effort she found a path from the foundation of the wall up to the place where the light would pour through. There were many places where she was forced to take great risks and more than thrice she almost lost her footing entirely. But in the end she was able to reach the opening with her hands. She found it to be larger than Arakai had described it, and she pulled herself through with little effort. This portion of the wall was located in the northwest of the city where the wall reaches its highest. For this reason the men of Dadron took little care to guard it. For it seemed to them that there could be none so daring as to scale the wall in those lofty places. But a rise in the land there made it so that this particular section of the wall was as close to the ground as any other.
When Ilea pulled herself through the hole she found herself upon some ancient scaffolding, as if the work to repair this part of the wall had long ago been abandoned. Without a sound she disappeared into the shadows.
Several days later, as was their arrangement, she returned again to that very place and let fall a rope, that Arakai and several other brave warriors might likewise ascend. Ogalo of Dalta, Breemen of Marin came up, along with three other men. Arakai came last and drew up the rope behind him. After a week had passed they repeated this, taking into the city some thirty men and five women altogether.
After another week had passed, and after they were able to search out the gatehouses that controlled the eastern gate of Dadron, they sent out a signal to their comrades by hanging from the wall a single rope, at the end of which was bound a small blue cloth. When all was prepared they made a daring midnight assault on the gatehouses, sending Arakai and ten men to the northern house and Breemen and the rest of their small force against the southern. They struck hard and swift, and quickly overthrew the guards, who never could have dreamed that an attack might come from within the city.
Before the men of Dadron were fully apprised of what had transpired, the gates began to fall, creaking and groaning against the engines that held them in place. The crashing sound of the mighty gates of Dadron striking the ground woke many from their slumber and sent the sound of trumpets rising into the night air.
But the response from without was swifter and more ready than the response from within. It was now the twelfth day of Paschest, winter had come and gone without a battle, and life had almost become normal for the soldiers within the city. It had been the better part of a year since Daryas rode out against them. Natham was at the lead of nearly a thousand warriors, some soldiers of Marin, some hirelings of Olgrost, but all of them ready to bring honor to their commander and to march with him to restore the honor of their people. For those who were under Natham's command were likewise fooled into fighting for the sake of Lady Lyris, whom they were told was yet held as a captive in Dadron.
This small force pushed their way into the city with such surprising speed that the first force of Dadron's men were quickly overwhelmed. A greater host soon arrived, but were only able to stay the advance of Natham's army for a time. In the end, the sound of battle drew men from the main host of Marin and even a force or two from Amlaman into the city. From atop the higher walls the lower city seemed to be engulfed in flame. Cries rent the air and the sound of iron clashing and wood splintering echoed throughout the night. For all their effort, the men of Dadron were unable to do more than contain the conflagration that had overtaken their city. The blood of the men of Dadron seemed to pour into Dusktown like a river, but no end came to the slaughter. Natham's rage was ignited, and all who faced him perished, or fled for the sight of the monster. At his left side fought Arakai with a great battle axe, stolen from the stores of Dadron's gatehouse. At his left fought Breemen with a long sword and a shield. Natham marched through the city undaunted by enemies with Admunth on his left shoulder and his mighty spear in his right hand. Confronted with such a foe, the men of Dadron could do nothing but flee. Through all that night the men fought, until at last the morning light appeared overhead.
At first light, Lord Akellnarva rode his chariot to the second gate, to see how the battle was progressing. There he met his captains, and Rahdmus and Daryas as well. 'My Lord,' Kardian said, we cannot save the lower city from destruction. All that we can accomplish, if the gods allow, might be to save those who yet live below.'
'But will we not thereby expose ourselves to even greater dangers?' the Lord of the City asked. 'The moment we open this gate the enemy will overwhelm us if not by force, then by number alone. You see the ocean of foes below us! We are but a tiny island in that chaos, and we cannot hope to withstand the almighty waters.'
'But if we can hold for
but a little while, 'Lord Kardian argued, 'we might save many lives, and who knows what hope and salvation the future will bring?'
'I am also of this opinion, my lord,' Daryas added, with great earnest. 'We cannot allow these men to ravage the people of Dadron any longer. Nor would your warriors accept, but out of duty, the pain of abandoning their comrades and families below.
Less than an hour later the trumpets blared and the sound of them pierced the sky, and as the sun reached over the walls of Dadron, the upper gates began to open. Daryas and Kardian rode in front of a mighty host. Their faces were grim, their swords were sharp, and their arms were strong. A fire burned within their hearts and they rushed down into the city like the flow of fire from a volcano, burning up everything within its path. A green flicker of light seemed to wash over Daryas' eyes as he rode down into the city upon Novai, with the men of Noras following close behind him.