Gondell's Quest - Book 1 - Destiny - Free Sampler Edition
Chapter 9
“It is not in my heart to deceive you.” Tillendur turned his head swiftly to face Fiorina as she rode alongside him.
“Where did you learn this trick?” he demanded, amazed that the Nymph had the ability to converse with him in the special Elf tone, her words beyond the hearing of their companions.
“There is a great deal that you do not know about me,” she replied, “But I thank you for defending me earlier.”
“I don't need your thanks, Ulaff merely stated what I should accept on my own, you do have some influence over me Fiorina, and it scares me a little.”
“I only influence you in a good way,” she laughed, “I mean you no harm and I will never put you or your friends in danger. You must believe that.”
“I want to believe you, or I think that is what I want, I am confused now, which desires are truly mine, and which have you planted?”
“I did not plant the desire that you have for me,” she giggled, “That became very clear when we lay together in the bluebells.”
“We did not lie together,” the Elf replied sharply, “I asked you for help, nothing more.”
“Search your memories,” she whispered, “I put you under no spell, I merely clouded your recollection so that you would not be distracted from your quest. I touched your mind when we joined Tillendur, I know of your mission, I know about your Elouise, I felt the emotions that rage inside you.”
Tillendur gasped as his memories re-emerged, the lost hours of the previous evening returning in a rush of passion and vibrant sensations.
“I did it for you,” she whispered, “If I had not covered those memories you would have thrown aside what is most important to you. I seduced you, that is true... because I am so very lonely, but as our bodies and minds became one I regretted my selfishness, you have a destiny to fulfil, there is a great weight on your shoulders. Tillendur, I can share that burden with you, I know your mind, I know our heart.”
“If you wished not to distract me, why did you uncover my hidden memories?” he asked quietly as he closed his eyes and gasped as he lived through the experience again, to his mind for the first time.
“Because your heart wanted you to know, your heart needed your mind to be aware... and because I do not want to keep secrets from you, I want you to trust me Tillendur.”
“How can I trust myself now?” he asked opening his eyes and gazing into hers, “How can I trust myself around you, how can I resist?”
“Why would you resist?” she giggled, “I didn't make you fall in love with me, your heart did that on it's own, I merely opened it to the possibility. I cannot make you love me Tillendur, and I cannot make you fall out of love, these things are only within your control, the decision is yours to make, not mine. You talk of resisting me, but why would you if it is what your heart craves?”
“You make it sound so simple,” he laughed sadly, “But my life is far more complicated.”
“You make it complicated,” she replied softly, “But you have to accept a few facts. Elouise, I see in your heart that you love her, but Tillendur, the Guild is more of a wife to you. Don't interrupt...” she added quickly as he began to react. “Do not misunderstand my words, yes you love her, but your honour is paramount, you feel that what you do defines you, and to a certain extent it does, but you are hiding within the Guild. Thirty years Tillendur, that is the time that you have been apart, yet I sense that you will delay longer, you use your mortal comrades as a scapegoat. Think about me Tillendur, search your heart and tell me that I lie, would you have come to me so willingly...” Fiorina trailed off knowing that the understanding of the reasons behind his willingness and infidelity had to come from within, not facts pointed out to him.
“So much confusion.” he replied.
“Denial, not confusion,” she replied, “But these are comprehensions that you must achieve on your own. But understand this clearly, you are not alone, I am here for you, I am with you now to the bitter end. Whatever lies ahead I will be at your side, to strengthen and comfort you.”
“You make it sound so simple,” he laughed as the mists of confusion began to clear in his mind. “Oh Fiorina, you really are wicked,” he chuckled as he saw through her playful deception, “You put that idea in my head, finish the mission and return to your forest, live happily ever after with you in the bluebells.”
“There, that proves my point,” she giggled, “I can put the idea in your head, but I cannot make you act on it.”
“Who says I won't.” he responded with a smile.
“Don't tease me,” she laughed but smiled knowingly as his thoughts were revealed. “Believe me Tillendur, I will never put you in danger, and I will not distract you from the mission. I agree with so many of your suspicions, but before I met you they were not my concern. Now I feel as strongly as you, but I do have a concern of my own.” she paused and tugged at the uncomfortable shirt that chafed her delicate skin, “Personally, I think that this Gnome is more important than you assume, I know Goblins as well as any of you, and from what I read of your thoughts and see in your memories, I think he has even greater value than you give him credit.”
“What brings you to that conclusion?” he asked wondering how deeply Fiorina could penetrate his mind.
“Interrogate and then eat, that is their way,” she replied almost casually, “If he were not important they would have tortured any information that they wanted from him, and then devoured him. Tillendur, they need him alive, which is both good and bad news for him.”
“The good news being that he will remain safe and alive, at least for a while, the bad news can only be that he is destined for Kangan himself, this captain that holds him has authority, but that poor little chap is headed toward the ultimate authority.” he turned to her, gratitude in his heart.
“You need say nothing,” she replied with a smile, “I want to help you, and sometimes two minds can be better than one.”
“You two are very quiet,” Feron called from the back of his steed as he trailed behind earning wide smiles from the lead riders.
“Why talk when there is nothing to say,” Tillendur called over his shoulder, “And the peace has given me time to put my thoughts in order.”
“We are close to the boundary of my realm now,” announced Fiorina aloud after they had ridden for over four hours, “My marker is just ahead.” she pointed to a moss covered boulder that sat alone in a brightly lit glade, the short grass surrounding its base dotted with white daisies and glowing yellow celandines. “Beyond this point we must be more wary, from here the land grows more wild and lawless.”
“I have no influence over evil when we pass this place,” she warned Tillendur privately, “We are all at risk, Trolls abound in the mountains.”
“Surely they do not venture this far south?” questioned the Elf wondering what else she was protecting her home against.
“I hear you,” she replied quietly, “But more than Trolls linger close to here!”
“Satyr?” Tillendur suddenly understood, he was beginning to sense her mind probing his and many of her own thoughts were becoming clearer, “You have set up a boundary to protect yourself from the Satyr. But I was under the impression that they were irresistible to your race, your chosen mates?”
“They are, you are correct,” she replied and glanced into the bushes that lined the clear track leading away from her boundary stone, “But you must understand, I am the last of my kind here, and the Satyr are many, they are drawn to me... so many.” she gasped. “I had become a plaything. I could not live with that knowledge... Your people consider me a user of the male, entrapping them for my own gratification, as and when I desired, is it not ironic that the user became the used?
“Are there so many here?” asked Tillendur in amazement, “I always thought them scarce.”
“They are drawn to me,” she conceded sadly, “I am trapped within my small boundaries by my own attraction. But do not become alarmed, they pose no risk for
you, they are not a dangerous people, only persistent.” the emphasis she placed on her final word spoke volumes, but Tillendur blanked out his own thoughts, not wishing to distress her further.
“I think you have little to fear in our company,” he spoke softly, “Feron and Ulaff are fearsome allies, I doubt any amorous suitors will dare approach.”
“They are all around us now,” she nodded toward the deep undergrowth, “Watching.”
“I know,” replied Tillendur, “That is why I spoke aloud of our comrades.”
As they journeyed on the path became more and more overgrown as the forest closed in, branches hanging low, blackened with mildew and laden with dangling creepers, lichen clustered on dead wood alongside fungi of every description, red capped and spotted in ivory through to drab and brown frilled like wasted and rotten fingers.
“This feels like a woodland in decay,” announced Ulaff quietly as he tossed a rotting branch aside to clear a path for the pack horses, “Death hangs in the air.”
“It is rotting and wasting away, gradually but surely,” replied Fiorina sadly, “A shadow has fallen over this part of the forest, a blight from the north, nothing wholesome grows here any more. And it spreads a little further south with each passing year.”
“It is a worry,” she told Tillendur, “It will reach my boundaries soon, and I doubt that I have the strength to hold it back, my home is in peril.”
“All the more important then that we crush the growing power of Kangan, this is his doing, he is giving evil a place to flourish, he is spreading his wickedness. But the Guild sits secure far to the south, and they do not heed our reports with the gravity that they deserve,” Tillendur sighed deeply as the Guild's apathy saddened and repressed his usually joyful spirit, “We must take a proof back that will force them to act, so many years of peace have made them complacent and soft. The warriors of old have died or retired, and the new generals have never tasted conflict or danger, they are unprepared for the doom that hangs over us.”
“We will find your proof,” Fiorina nodded with an air of certainty, “Your proof lies within that bound and captive Gnome, of that I am certain.”
“Many eyes watch us,” announced Feron, glancing around the dense cover of trees and bushes that crowded the path that had now become little more than a well trodden animal track. “I do not see them, yet I feel their unfriendly gaze upon us.”
“Satyr,” replied Fiorina clearly, “But have no fear Master Feron, they pose no threat, they are simply curious, and they will not follow us when the woodland breaks and we begin to climb into the foothills of the mountains.”
“Fairies watch us also,” she warned Tillendur, “They will not be able to resist some spiteful mischief if our intentions are revealed, we must not discuss anything openly now.”
“They are sympathetic to the enemy?” questioned the Elf as he scanned the branches above.
“Not just sympathetic, they are in league,” she replied, “Many are harmless, wishing for nothing more than freedom and peace, but many follow Kangan. They tread a precarious path, the fine line between good and evil. I have heard it said that in the south many support the Guild, but we are not in the south, here they are not to be trusted.”
“Are there any peoples here that can be trusted?” asked Tillendur with a serious tone, “I makes me uncomfortable to ride openly toward the enemy, and it would ease my heart if there were at least one ally ahead.”
“I doubt you would call them allies, but not all races have succumbed to Kangan's will, the Ursidaen still walk their own path, as do the Griffin Riders of Mount Valkir, but we cannot consider them friendly to the Guild either. The Ursidaen are a scattered race, solitary and suspicious. They care little for the machinations of Kangan or the affairs of the free peoples. They are very powerful when roused, but fortunately that is something that happens rarely. No, we cannot rely on the bear people to aid us.”
“I know of the bear people,” answered Tillendur as he pictured his last meeting with their kind. It had been in the woodlands of Urath far to the east, and it had not been a comfortable experience. Camped with his two comrades he had awoken to find many eyes shining in the shadows that surrounded their smouldering fire. A deep voice had growled from the darkness, the eyes set in a darker hulking shadow that grew as the great creature had raised up, standing erect on shaggy powerful legs, a creature twice his own height, a creature that dwarfed even mighty Ulaff.
“This place is sacred,” it had rumbled, “What gives you the right to defile our place of worship?”
“Stay your hand.” Tillendur had warned urgently as Feron sprung to his feet, his battle hammer hovering ominously in a steady grip. “We meant no offence,” he had called into the darkness, “We are weary travellers who simply sought a quiet place to lay our heads for the night, but we apologise and will move on as soon as may be, it is beyond our understanding that this glade serves as your temple.”
The eyes dropped slowly down as the giant bear lowered his bulk back onto all fours and slowly lumbered into the firelight. Black as coal his shaggy thick coat, yet around his snout a sprinkling of silver grey revealed great age. His eyes had locked onto the awed trio, the gaze intense and questioning, a shrewd mind clearly working as options were weighed, assumptions tested, their worth judged.
“Well armed for weary travellers,” he had stated, “But I shall accept your words, for I do not think that the Elves have changed over the long years, I wish to believe that you remain a truthful people.”
“That we are,” nodded Tillendur, relaxing slightly, “But as you rightly observe, we are armed. But only for our own defence... these are dangerous times, and we journey far to the north from here.”
“That is beyond my concern and interest,” replied the black bear as he stepped closer to the fire, his massive paws raising small clouds of dust from the dry ground that hovered in the pale light from the glowing embers. “It is forbidden for others to see this place, the centre of our realm, the sacred site where the Great Mother first lifted us above the other creatures of the forest and gave our race the gift of speech.”
“We have already apologised for that indiscretion,” voiced Feron, his patience wearing thin, “So leave us to depart in peace, for as you have already observed, we are well armed!”
“And so speaks the diplomat,” chuckled the bear as he turned his full attention to the bristling Dwarf, “And what of you Ogre?” his gaze switched, “How feel you? Are you prepared to risk all as your friend here threatens, or do you value the ancient art of gentle discourse as do the patient and sensible Elves?”
“I favour discourse,” nodded Ulaff, “But I do not fear conflict should diplomacy fail.”
“Well said,” laughed the black bear, “A blending of your companions. But you do not need to grip the hilt of your sword so tightly, and Master Dwarf, lower your hammer... you will have no need of it tonight.”
“That is my only experience of the Ursidaen's,” Tillendur sensed the Nymph reading his thoughts, living his memories, “But you spoke of another people, the Griffin Riders, these are a race that I know not.”
“I do not know that much about them myself,” admitted Fiorina, “They rarely leave their mountain domain, and I know that they do not look on my kind with a favourable or sympathetic eye.”
“Perhaps the beautiful woodland Nymph's have led too many of their males into madness and obsession,” joked Tillendur before catching her wince, “I see that my arrow struck close to the mark,” he laughed uncomfortably as she closed her mind to his searching. “And I sense guilt.”
“They are a race apart,” she began, “They are fair to the eye and strong, yet their hearts are hard and savage. But not cruel or dark,” she added swiftly, “They have the capacity for greatness, yet they lack culture, they are like babies without guidance. So much potential, yet no one to guide them away from savagery, no leader to bring them to enlightenment.”
“So the Nymph's decided to enti
ce them toward the light?” Tillendur questioned.
“Oh no,” Fiorina laughed wickedly before opening her mind and memories to him, “We never wanted to tame them, we used them only for our own pleasure and satisfaction.”
“They are close to Elves,” Tillendur stated as the images in her mind became clearer, “Yet different.”
“They are taller and stronger than your race,” she sighed, “Powerful, but without nobility. They do not have your temperance, yet they practice moderation of a fashion. They are a complicated people, so like you in so many ways, yet akin to the Dwarves and Ogres also. To my mind, they are an amalgam of the best, and worst, of all the races of fair folk.”
“They sound like unstable allies.”
“I have already told you,” Fiorina reminded him, “We should not rely on any assistance from them, and certainly not any form of alliance, the most that we can hope for is that they will allow us to travel unhindered through their valleys, for our path leads through the very heart of their lands.”
Tillendur turned and studied her beautiful face, searching to catch the source of the sadness he had glimpsed in her thoughts.
“I appreciate your concern,” she nodded, and gave him a small smile, “But you have no real need to worry, I will be safe if you state that I am acting for, and under the protection of the Guild. It is true that they despise my kind, but they do respect the authority of the Guild.”
“There is more,” stated the Elf as he held her deep blue eyes, “You know far more about these people that you choose to admit... how can you be so sure that they acknowledge the Guild?”
“Because they fell from grace and into the darkness, but they are still just and true, the Griffin Riders will honour the Guild before they bow to Kangan,” Fiorina sighed, “Their fall is an old story, and little known outside their own race, for it is their greatest shame.”
“And I feel from your own emotions that you may have played some small part in that shame?”
“Yes,” she sighed deeply, a sound of pain and regret, “It is not true, the rumours about us, about Nymph's,” she began, “We do possess a conscience, we are capable of feeling guilt over our acts or complicity... we are not heartless.”
“You do not have to explain anything to me.” replied Tillendur quietly.
“But I do,” she gasped, an intensity burning in her eyes, “You have to know the truth, maybe then you can begin to trust me.”
“I do trust you...” he stated.
“Not completely,” she added cutting into his thoughts quickly, “But let me explain what happened, then we will see. Many lives of mortals have passed since that time.” she began, “So many years, yet I remember as if it were only yesterday. The Griffon Riders had two leaders at that time, brothers, twins.” She paused and allowed him into her memories, “They were both so handsome, so amorous... and both devoted.”
“To you?” Tillendur saw he nod slightly, the pain clear in her expression.
“For a long time I managed to keep it a secret,” she continued, “I played with them and there is nothing that they wouldn't do for me. I would send one on a quest while lying with his brother... I made fools of them both,” she sniffed and wiped away a threatening tear. “They were the forefathers of their race in a way, and because of me their people were torn asunder, they became divided. Krossus and Manus, my lovers. Of course it is the way of this world that eventually my tricks were discovered, Manus came to my forest as I lay with his brother.” Fiorina closed her mind and squeezed her eyes tight shut as though trying to drive away the forming image in her head. “They fought Tillendur, over me, they battled for the love of a creature incapable of the emotion.”
“Incapable?” interrupted the Elf, wondering again about her intentions toward him.
“I was incapable of loving them,” she sighed, “But that was many years ago, and I have grown since then... and do not forget, they were mortal, both have been dead for many centuries. I can love, but I must give it to another immortal, for when a Nymph allows her love to blossom it is given forever.”
Tillendur remained silent but fully understood the meaning hidden behind her words, merely smiling as he felt her joy that he hadn't dismissed the idea she implanted in his mind. “What became of them?” he prompted.
“Division, hatred, rebellion... those things and more. Oh Tillendur, if I could turn back the sands of time I would, I would have left this place if I had know the damage my games would lead to. They became two tribes, the People of Krossus and the People of Manus. In their old language Hew Krossus and Hew Manus, but over time they simply became known amongst themselves as the Kros and the Man. The Kros inhabit the mountain passes that lie ahead of us.”
“And the Man?” asked Tillendur, guessing the answer to his question from the pain in her eyes.
“They went over to Kangan,” Fiorina wiped away another tear, “I turned a great people over to the darkness, maybe now you understand why I need to help you, maybe I can find some small way to atone for the damage that I have done.”
“You are being too hard on yourself,' Tillendur attempted to console her, for the first time seeing her in a different light, “You could not have known the consequences of your actions.”
“I am a Nymph,” she declared, distaste heavy in her words, as though the name were in itself an accusation, “We never consider consequences, we simply act on our own desires, our own selfish needs. Have I not displayed that clearly to you already, did I not seduce you because of my loneliness?”
“Maybe,” the Elf nodded, “But you ensnared only me, you did not play my friends against me, that act alone proves clearly to my mind that your actions have been based on your solitude rather than any desire to cause conflict or mischief.”
“Thank you for your kind words and understanding, I knew I had made the right choice when I looked into your heart... and no, I did not take your own choice away,” she laughed, her expression brightening, a wicked glint returning to her eye as he began to react to her answer, “Your heart chose willingly, or do you forget that fact, search your memories again, remember how willingly you came to my soft bed of bluebells.”
The long afternoon began to fade as the sun sank ever lower into the western sky, it's colour changing from a warm and natural yellow to a deep and fiery orange as it touched the tops of the tall trees that still surrounded the travellers.
“We will not be able to venture much farther today,” said Fiorina, her words welcomed by Feron, who, not being a natural rider had found the long hours astride his mount both tedious and numbing.
“That is music to my ears,” he declared happily, “I do not know which will be more relieved to be parted for a few hours, my buttocks or my horse, I am beginning to feel that they are becoming as one.”
“There is a place just ahead where we can make our camp, beside a cool clear stream.” Fiorina turned her head to Tillendur and smiled, “I have a friend who lives under the waterfall, she will be able to advise us in more detail as to how the wild has changed since I last came here.”
“I thought we had no allies ahead!” stated the Elf, questioning.
“She is an old friend, but not your ally, of that you can be assured, I must bargain for you all, convince her to allow you safe passage for she is not a lover of the fair folk.”
“Safe passage?” Tillendur raised his eyebrow.
“We must all cross her stream, she is a water sprite, a Naiad, and a complicated character.” Fiorina turned away, obviously satisfied she needed to explain no further.
“Why should a water sprite pose any threat to us?” probed Tillendur, not satisfied with less than half of the story.
“Because you are all free to wander as you choose, she is not. She is jealous of the fair folk, she craves freedom but is trapped within the confines of her home.”
“Why is she trapped, is she a creature like the sirens, has she fins rather than legs?”
“She has legs,” chuckled the Nymph
, “How little you know my fine Elf. She is doomed to live out her life in the waters of her birth, she has the length of the river until it reaches the briny sea as her domain, but she can never stray far from the water, if she did... she would die.”
“And we must cross her stream?” asked Tillendur quietly.
“We must,” the Nymph nodded, “And that will all depend on her mood. If her disposition is fair, it will not be difficult to obtain safe passage for you, but should her mood be fey,” she paused for a moment, “Well, I will have to use all of my powers of persuasion. There is a small glade ahead, there you will make camp and build a fire, I shall continue on foot, but I warn you, it may take me some time to convince her.”