Chapter 7
“Here looks as good a place as any others we have seen,” ventured Feron as he turned to Tillendur who studied the steep path carefully in the first light of dawn. The trio had retraced their steps back into the valley and urgently sought the first safe place to climb up onto the ridge above, each minute that they trailed back became a growing frustration as they imagined the Goblins scuttling through their dark tunnels.
“I agree, we can try here,” replied the Elf, “It pains my heart to lose so much time.”
“Let me try first,” suggested Ulaff, “It makes sense, if I can manage... it will be easy for you.”
Tillendur nodded, the Ogre sometimes proved a limitation on their speed and agility, always he had to consider the shortcomings that marched hand in hand with Ulaff's sheer bulk, but not for one second would he consider his friend a liability, Rather we spend a whole day seeking an easy route than do without his power during a battle, the benefits presented by their lumbering companion far out weighed the drawbacks.
Using stunted trees to steady himself Ulaff managed the ascent without undue problems, and quickly slithering back to the valley floor took the lead reign of the first pack horse, “Let me get the baggage up first,” he announced as he dragged the wide eyed beast toward the scree covered slope. Iron shod hooves scrabbled and slipped, chips of stone flew in all directions, Ulaff hauled lustily on the lead rope but the sheer slope proved too steep for the frightened animal, its eyes rolling exposing the whites. “This is no use.” grumbled the Ogre as he slid back to the solid ground.
“We must move on,” indicated Tillendur, “We will find an easier place.”
“No,” Ulaff snapped, his expression set hard, determination in his glowering eyes, “We can make it here.” and without another word be snatched up the terrified horse under one massive arm and hefting it high began to climb. Slender limbs thrashed and slashed the air as panic filled the feeble equine mind, Ulaff released his grip on a tree and using his free hand gave the animal a gentle slap on the side of its head stunning the fight out of it, “Steady you soft bugger,” he whispered, “You have nothing to fear.”
The horse looked pitiful as he deposited it back onto shaking and splayed legs on the crest of the ridge, head hanging low, and its body drenched in a nervous sweat.
“Remind me to graciously decline if you should ever offer to help me up a hill,” laughed Feron as the final pack horse stood shaking high above his head, “But I fear you may have to help mine, I have not the skill to guide it up mounted.”
“My strength is not without limit,” panted Ulaff as he stood bent over with his meaty hands on his knees recovering his breath, “But I can probably manage just one more.”
“You will need only one more trip,” Tillendur whispered before stroking his horses neck gently, and leaning far forward he crooned soft words in old elvish into the flickering and attentive ears. The animal responded instantly with a snort and a stamp of a front hoof before bounding easily up the slippery slope, his rider light in the saddle and holding a loose rein.
“Nay, you could not have done the same,” he smiled at Feron and shook his head, “My horse is light and agile, your mount is of a different breed, he has power to carry your weight, but he has not the grace and agility required for such a feat.”
“I am ready,” announced Ulaff straightening his back, “We must make haste.”
Tillendur smiled again, a deep compassion and respect in his dark eyes, “Nay my friend, recover your strength a while longer, we should take a bite of breakfast now, we have a long and hard day ahead of us.” And so, as their horses grazed free on the rolling dales the three friends shared a meal of preserved meat and hard baked biscuit, the type that will keep good for many months if kept dry.
“Keep your bow handy as we travel,” suggested Feron, “A few roasted rabbits, or pigeons would satisfy a growling belly later.”
“We will see,” replied the Elf as he gazed into the distance at the outline of jagged mountain peaks. Feron, unencumbered with the burden of leadership could relax, the only pressing concern in his mind being his next hot meal. Tillendur however felt the weight of responsibility on his slim shoulders, the mountains loomed ahead and he did not know the terrain. I have to find a path, a pass between the peaks, we may not find much time to cook. Lightning flickered across the dark clouds that wreathed the highest peaks and he felt his joyful heart chill. Given more time I would lead us around... not over, he admitted and swiftly calculated the time needed to detour, but we do not have the time, I must trust to luck that I do not lead us astray. Lowering his gaze to the thick woodlands that populated the lower slopes his spirits rose. There in the forest I will find peace to think clearly, maybe the whisperings of the trees can give me some guidance, or possibly there are forest folk friendly to our cause.
Never depressed for long Tillendur smiled at his friends before whistling the horses, who, with pricked ears returned at a gallop. “To the forest, and hope for guidance.” he whispered and began to pack his small belongings.
By mid morning they had reached the head of the valley and stared down into the circular glade. Tillendur glanced up at the sun judging the angle, “They have at least twelve hours lead,” he sighed, “I know not how long it will take them through their tunnels before they emerge again on the Plains of Akar, how shall we know if they paused for rest during the night, even Goblins must sleep!”
“They will use the Iron Gate,” Ulaff nodded, “It is the most direct route north, the western gate is only used if heading for the sea.”
“You know that land?” questioned Feron looking away from the tunnel entrance far below.
“That I do,” Ulaff replied, “But it is many years since I last cast my eye on the gate.”
“What is the country like there?” Feron asked with interest, “And what took you so far north?”
“I have not always been a warrior of the Guild,” replied the Ogre quietly, a sadness showing in his eyes, “Many years ago I was a hunter, along with my brother. We often journeyed to the plains to track the herds of Auroch, the horns and hide brought a fair price back then, but that was many long years ago, though I doubt the plains have changed a great deal... wide open spaces, nothing but grassland for miles and miles in every direction... all the way to the edge of the desert. Further than that I have never been.”
“You never spoke of a brother before,” said Tillendur as he saw a flash of pain in the Ogres expression, “Forgive me,” he apologised quickly, “I do not wish to pry.”
“You do not pry my friend,” sighed Ulaff, “He passed away a long time ago, ambushed by a Goblin patrol.” he swallowed hard before continuing, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, “I found them preparing his body for their feast, forgive me my friends, I do not wish to drag these memories back into my mind.”
“Say no more, and forgive my intrusion,” replied the Elf quietly as Feron shuffled uncomfortably in his saddle and tugged his horses tufted mane, his gaze locked on his fingers.
It explains a great deal, mused Tillendur as he studied his massive friend, I understand the hatred he holds for all Goblins now, I would probably feel the same way were I in his position.
“Tell me, which route did you use to get to the plains? Have you ever been over the mountains?”
Ulaff swallowed his emotions and coughed before shaking his head, “I have never been in these mountains, I always used the Gap of Akar far to the east, but that is many days ride from here,” he caught Tillendur's eye and shook his head as though reading his mind, “No brother, it is too far, we could never make up the time. If we are lucky and they rested during the night, and we can find a convenient pass, we should be able to catch them on the plains, it will take them many days on foot before they reach the desert.”
“Then let us hope we can find a pass, and quickly. Onward my friends, we still have much ground to cover before we reach the forest.” Tillendur turned his horse from the edge and beg
an leading toward the still distant mountains, his companions following deep in private thought.
“Keep a steady aim.” whispered Feron earning a raised eyebrow from his Elf companion as he carefully drew an arrow from his quiver never taking his eyes from the boar as it snuffled below an oak tree on the edge of the forest.
“I will heed your valuable advice.” replied Tillendur, an edge of playful sarcasm in his quiet voice.
“You know my meaning,” chuckled Feron, “Just don't miss, I can taste him already.”
“Her,” replied the Elf as his taut bowstring twanged, the arrow speeding to its mark with absolute precision, “Her, not him.”
“Forgive me,” laughed Feron, slapping his friend on the back as the wild pig dropped without a sound, dead the instant the arrow pierced its heart, “I was only looking at the haunches, but male or female, wild pork is still wild pork regardless of how many teats it has.”
“We should make a small camp on the edge of the forest,” advised Tillendur as Ulaff lumbered across to retrieve the carcass, “It is not wise to start a fire under the trees, concern will confuse their speech, and I must hear their whisperings clearly,” he turned to Feron quickly, “Build it some distance away, use only fallen wood, there will be plenty if you take the time to seek it out, I must wander amongst the oak and ash, pine and elm, I must hear their thoughts and search for sound advice.”
“They are a strange breed... the Elves.” said Feron as the Ogre returned with the boar draped over his shoulder.
“That they are,” he agreed, “Strange and wonderful.” and without further ado he drew out a small knife and began to dress their evening meal.
“How long have you stood here?” Tillendur whispered as he placed his palms against the moss covered bark of an ancient elm, what stories could you tell?
His sensitive fingers tingled as the forests voice became clearer, ethereal conversations flowed through him as disjointed whispers, the sun and rain, optimism for a fair growing season ahead before autumn signalled a time to sleep again, all of the topics that interested growing things. I sense nothing that can help me, he sighed, the woodland is at peace, there are no rumours, no foreboding, evil has not visited here for many years. Still he listened, their thoughts soothing, as restful as sleep, he thought before reluctantly deciding to break his contact. Unwilling to return to the camp too soon Tillendur strolled deeper into the forest and discovered a glade filled with gently nodding bluebells, their blooms vivid in the dappled sunshine of late afternoon, “I shall rest here a while,” he decided as he sank down onto a fallen log and closing his eyes allowed his mind to wander. “Elouise,” he whispered aloud as the image of his partner emerged from the mists, “How long since we last wandered in the woods together.” Many years, he admitted sadly, when this task is complete I will return to you my love, his thoughts brought pain to his heart, too many years!
As eternal beings Elves do not count time as other races do, a year could be as a second to mortal peoples, and with heaviness in his soul he understood that more than thirty seasons had come and gone since he last held his Elouise. “Time to go home until I am needed again,” he decided before thoughts of his friends emerged to trouble him. But they are mortal, he sighed, they will be old with long grey beards when next I see them, I can wait a few years more, for their sake, my Elouise will be waiting, and we have eternity to be together.
“I hear you breathing,” Tillendur spoke clearly without moving or turning toward the sound, “And I hear your bowstring straining, lower your weapon, I mean you no harm.”
“Maybe,” a musical female whisper drifted to his sensitive ears, “But what of your companions, can you also vouch for them?”
“I do, you have my word that they will not interfere in any way, you are safe.” a small smile played on his lips as the taut vibrations of a straining bowstring ceased, “I am Tillendur, of the House of Thamina, and a member of the Guild of Free Peoples.”
“The Guild means little to me,” she replied, “But an Elf will always be welcome in my forest. I am Fiorina.”
“Well met Fiorina, may I be permitted to look upon you?” Tillendur replied adhering to the strict rules of propriety when meeting woodland Nymphs.
“Well met indeed Tillendur of Thamina, I will permit you to look upon me should you wish, and if you understand your jeopardy.”
“I understand,” Tillendur nodded and slowly turned toward her voice as she stepped lightly into the sunlit glade. Of all Nymphs he had met Fiorina had to be the fairest in his eyes and he began to understand the risk that mortal creatures took when they gazed on such beauty, “Beautiful indeed, if I had a weaker will I would also fall in love.” he nodded as she walked slowly toward him, no shame or embarrassment in her calm expression despite her total nudity. Other Nymphs had taken to covering their bodies with sheer gowns woven from shining threads of silk and new green leaves, yet Fiorina had not succumbed to the growing trend and wandered the woodlands as nature intended, young, beautiful and nubile. Her bow slung over her shoulder, the string nestled between her small firm breasts and a finely wrought gold chain belt that followed the contours of her hips carrying a slender pearl handled knife were the only trappings that adorned her milky white perfection.
“And what brings so fine an Elf to my humble forest home?” she asked giving a small pout, a teasing action so common to her species.
“My companions and I are tracking a band of Goblins, they have taken a free worlder captive, and we seek a way to cut them off.”
“No Goblins have passed through my woods,” she whispered tracing a slender finger across his chest as she flickered her long eyelashes, “I would know if they had, it has been many long years since they last defiled this clean air.”
“Yes, I know that they did not travel this way, they have taken the tunnels beneath our feet, but I seek a short cut through the mountains, I wish to arrive at the Iron Gate as quickly as may be.”
“That is a long and dangerous path,” she whispered into his ear, “Surely you should consider resting here with me for a while before beginning such an arduous journey.” she gave him a saucy wink before sinking to her knees in the bluebells.
“Fiorina, surely you must understand, I am an eternal like you, and flattered as I am, sadly your charms have little effect on me.” Tillendur sighed deeply and sat beside her searching her eyes for reaction to his rejection.
“I know that,” she whispered, “But I still had to try, I live a very lonely existence, it is many many moons since anyone wandered into my realm.”
“That would explain your nudity,” replied Tillendur quietly, “You know it has become fashion for your sisters to wear a covering now, to avert the gaze of the folk that pass through your homes.”
“I knew nothing of this thing,” she frowned, “And it is a trend that I cannot comprehend, why should I hide myself from those who ask so politely for a glimpse?”
“Sometime less refined folk fail to ask politely, times are changing Fiorina,” sighed Tillendur, a deep sadness in his voice, “And not all changes are for the best.”
“There have always been those that act without decorum, it is nothing new, but this fashion for covering the body is a change that I do not like,” Fiorina set her dainty jaw in defiance, “And certainly not a change that I would ever adopt, I am happy living as I am.”
“I respect your views,” answered the Elf as he looked deep into her startlingly blue eyes and moved a wisp of silken blond hair from her face, “But there are changes coming that will affect us all, I fear that you will not be safe here, you will not be able to live as you please. Evil times are coming, evil times filled with dark and sinister people.”
“These things mean little to me,” she replied with a smile, “I lived through the dark days of Nilgoth. His Goblins troubled me not.”
“A darker power is rising, I feel it in my heart.” Tillendur rose slowly and picked up his own bow, “But maybe those days may be delayed if I ca
n find my way safely and quickly through the mountains. Fair Fiorina, for the sake of free and decent people everywhere, can you not advise me, is there any path of which you know that can speed me on my way.”
Fiorina stretched out on her bed of bright blue flowers and hummed a quiet tune, her expression serene. “I can help you,” she nodded before a wicked grin spread across her pouting lips, “But there is a price!”
“Ask, and if it is within my means I will willingly pay.” replied the Elf earnestly.
“I know that you can afford my price,” she giggled, “All that I ask, if you are successful, you will return here and spend some time with me, relieve my boredom, I crave company.”
“You have my word,” replied Tillendur solemnly before bowing low.
“Your word is sufficient for me,” Fiorina nodded and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “Now you must return to your comrades, meet me here again at first light tomorrow, come alone, and keep your friends from straying into the forest, they must not see me, even for a second. I sense that your mission is vital, so we must not risk confusing their minds. Sleep secure tonight knowing that I watch over you.”
“I am deeply in your debt,” replied the Elf bowing again, “Until tomorrow.”
“We were wondering if you had become lost,” called Feron as Tillendur emerged from the darkened forest.
Time passed quickly under her spell, he realised noticing that the sun had set, the last thing I remember is her lying in the bluebells bathed in the soft light of early evening. How easily mortals must fall in love with her kind if she can influence my mind so dramatically. He glanced back into the trees and his sharp night eyes caught her slim shape high in a tree that overshadowed their basic camp, she returned his smile before vanishing quickly into the thick cover of fresh new leaves.
“I needed time to think,” he replied to Feron's comment, “But we are in luck, I met someone who has agreed to help us, tomorrow morning the best path will be revealed... How is that boar coming along Ulaff?” he asked quickly deflecting questions, “Relief has brought a great hunger on me, and tonight I will risk a drop of wine.” I can sleep secure, he told himself as he felt an overwhelming weariness, she will allow no harm to come to us tonight.
“So what manner of creature did you meet in there?” Feron gestured toward the forest with his knife as thick yellow pork grease trickled down to his elbow.
“A friend,” replied Tillendur, a sleepy distance in his eyes, and why am I grinning like an idiot? he cautioned himself as he chased the vision of Fiorina from his mind, I have been too long without the company of a beautiful companion. He shook his head dislodging the cobwebs in his mind, Focus, he ordered himself, now is not the time for distractions.
“A close friend by the expression on your face,” Ulaff chuckled as he stripped the succulent flesh from a shin bone.
“If circumstances were different, then I am sure we would become very close friends,” he sighed, “But some things are not meant to be.” he glanced up into the branches and caught her saddened expression and felt a pain in his heart. When he looked again Fiorina had disappeared.
The hours of darkness passed slowly as Tillendur lay awake listening to the heavy snoring that rumbled and rasped from his friends, yet sleep evaded him. Always her face drifted into his mind, how could she affect me so deeply? He questioned silently, she warned against clouding my companions minds, if she only knew what she has done to mine. He turned on his blanket and gazed up into the branches secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of her flawless visage and sighed deeply to find the branches empty, she is here, he acknowledged, but my words earlier hurt her, I saw the pain in her eyes, she will not break her promise, but I will not see her again tonight. And with that thought in his mind he closed his eyes and drifted into a dream tormented sleep.
The sight that met him as he stepped back into the bluebell glade as the first glow of dawn drove the deep shadows away stopped his heart for a second.
“Fiorina, is that really you?” he gasped as she stood slowly and turned to face him.
“I have changed our deal,” she offered a small smile and tugged uncomfortably at the deerskin shirt that covered her slender torso, “I made these last night,” she continued quietly as she followed his eyes down to the matching breeches, “Did I get it right?”
“I don't know what to say,” stuttered the Elf taken aback, and for the first time in his calm and ordered life struggled to find the words to express himself, “You look wonderful, and yes, you definitely got the design right.”
“I have decided to guide you,” she stated resolutely, “That is the new deal, refuse me and find your own way through the mountains.”
“How could I refuse,” laughed Tillendur regaining his composure, “But I would not wish to put you in any danger, the path that we tread is fraught!”
“Do you think that I could have lived as long as I have without experiencing danger, you must not fear for me, I have my bow, and my knife, I will be safe.”
“I understand,” he nodded, “But what of my companions, what of your influence on their mortal minds?”
“I see that you do not wish to share me.” she teased as Tillendur swallowed hard.
You do not know how close you are to the mark, he thought before denying the revelation, and clearing his mind he took a deep breath. “I talk of distraction, my friends must not lose their focus, it will be dangerous for them, for all of us if they spend their days mooning around you like lovestruck teenagers.”
“I understand,” she giggled and gave him a knowing wink, “But you need not fear competition, I have prepared a potion, it will give immunity to my charms.” and with a grin she revealed two small cork stoppered glass vials filled with a pale green liquid.
“Only two?” he asked as he took them into his hand and stared into her hypnotic eyes.
“Do you truly wish for immunity?” she asked, her eyes searching and anxious.
“I will ensure that they drink it, follow me when you are ready.” he replied without answering her question. I cannot tell a lie, he admitted silently and felt a strange and confusing mixture of emotions; concern and guilt swirling together with heady elation.
“What is it?” asked Feron as he eyed the vial suspiciously while trusting Ulaff poured his dose into his mouth before swallowing hard, disgust registering on his face.
“It's bitter, that's what it is.” he coughed.
“Protection.” replied Tillendur understanding that his nature would not permit an open deception. I speak the truth, he justified in his mind, I merely omit to mention protection against what.
Feron shrugged and downed his vial before smacking his lips and sighing deeply, “I like it, do you have more?”
“Sadly no,” answered Fiorina as she stepped from the trees, “That was the last.”
“A great pity,” announced Feron as he turned toward the sound of her voice before shock registered in his expression.
“This is Fiorina, our guide,” Tillendur made a nervous introduction and watched a small smile cross her perfect lips as Feron leaned closer to whisper.
“Could you have not found a guide that is a little easier on the eye.”
“I am pleased to meet you also Feron the Dwarf,” she replied and gave Tillendur a knowing wink. “And also you Ulaff.”
Deep confusion spread across the Ogres face as he looked first at Fiorina and then at Feron, “It is a pleasure to meet you also Miss.” he replied taking her dainty hand in his before understanding bloomed and he turned to Tillendur with concern in his eyes, “May I speak to you for a moment in private?” he asked, his tone firm.
“This is a dangerous game for you to play,” he turned suddenly as they reached the horses, “She may fool Feron, but she cannot blind me as easily, tell me Tillendur, are we truly travelling with a Nymph?”
“You know what she is?” asked the Elf as he glanced back to camp nervously.
Ulaff chuckled, but his voice held no
mirth, “Seriously my friend, she is beautiful, beyond beautiful... I think I can recognise a Nymph when I see one!”
“But the potion!” stammered Tillendur.
Ulaff raised a meaty hand, “It worked for a second but the effect soon faded, but you took no potion did you, that is why I told you that the game is dangerous that you have decided to play, she can influence your mind my friend. She will toy with your emotions,” he saw the Elf's involuntary glance back at the beautiful young woman, “She is already twisting you inside, she has a grip on you.”
“No one controls me,” Tillendur snapped defiantly, “And we can trust her, she is the only hope that we have to get through the mountains in time to stand any chance of catching the Goblins.”
“I do not doubt that,” replied Ulaff quietly, “I just want you to be careful, they are dangerous creatures, if you lose your heart to her you will never find rest again, and eternity is a very long time.”
“That is my security, my immortality” answered the Elf drawing back his emotions, “My heart belongs to another, that bond is too strong to break... do not worry, I am in no danger.” he paused for a few seconds before continuing cautiously, “But what of you my friend, what of her influence over you?”
Ulaff laughed softly before placing his hand on the Elf's shoulder, “As a people we are too far apart, the gulf between us is huge, I see a pretty girl, but I feel no attraction, and she knows that well.”
“So, how do we proceed, do you still trust me to lead this mission?”
Ulaff gave the Elf's shoulder a squeeze, “Lead me into the smoking fires of Nilgoth's furnaces, you will always have my undying loyalty and trust.” he replied quietly.
“Then let us not mention this again my friend,” Tillendur smiled and felt his eyes drawn back to the irresistible Nymph, “We must break camp, the Goblins will not be waiting for us, they are moving fast.”