Light Of Loreandril (46 page)

The main doubt lay with Nechan himself. He found it hard to imagine fighting in a battle, let alone killing someone. The young clansman was tormented by visions of turning tail and running away like a coward. A gnawing fear of dread and doubt was growing in him each night, something he dared not share with his comrades. This was an aspect only he could resolve.

The chilling, ferocious wind pounded the elf and his horse, but still they pushed on, the peaks of Ghornathia now in sight in between the breaks of snow flurries. Nilean knew it would be a difficult task to reach Ghornathia before the harsh mountainous winter set in, but the importance of his mission gave him the strength and will to continue.

Leading his stately, white horse through the driving snow, they ploughed up the mountain gully, sticking as close as possible to the steep, rocky cliffs hoping to find some protection. It was hard work, but finally they reached their destination. Being an elf he was unsure of the exact point of entry, the doorway into Ghornathia being well masked by the cunning workmanship of the Gnomes. If his memories of previous visits, centuries before, were correct, Nilean was sure he was in the right area. All he needed to do was sound his horn, calling attention to himself.

Placing the cold, silver mouthpiece to his lips he blew hard. The ringing of the ivory horn filled the ravine, echoing off the high cliffs and peaks. Even with the ripping wind and pounding snow, the clear note of the horn could still be heard. Unseen to even the most sharpest of eyes, high up in one of the rocky pinnacles, the Gateway Tower, the soldiers of the watch stared down at the mysterious visitor.

It had been many centuries since the sound of an Elvish horn last rang through these gullies, but given their most recent visit by a Clansman, anything was possible. However, they would take no risks. Orders were sent quickly for a small garrison to go up to the entrance. Armed to the teeth, clad in heavy armour, fifteen stout guards marched up to greet their visitor.

Outside, unaware of the reception he was about receive, Nilean stamped his feet and rubbed his arms attempting to keep warm. With his cloak and hood pulled tightly around his body, the elf was filled with relief as he heard the first rumbles of the gateway opening. A long, dark crack slowly grew in the cliff face before him.

Without hesitation, the guards sprung out with surprising speed and agility, pinning Nilean to the floor. The elf barely had time to breathe before short blades were pressed against his chest and neck. If he moved an inch he would have been skewered like a wild boar.

The horse was met with a different reception. Gnomes were not used to such large animals and in their fear they flung ropes and lassoes around the horses legs and neck, pulling the poor beast to the ground. The snow softened her fall, but with anger in her eyes, the mare thrashed and rolled viciously. The Gnomes were forced to subdue her with more rope until finally she succumbed to her bondage and lay helplessly in the snow.

“Speak! On what errand do you encroach on our safe haven?” The first officer leaned over the prisoner whose face and head was still partially covered by the hood of his travel cloak.

“I come on a mission of peace, friend!” choked Nilean.

The steel blades pushed deeper into his neck, almost to the point of breaking the skin.

“It dishonours us that you call us
friend
before identifying yourself. Who sent you on this mission of
peace?
” The officer bent down even closer to the elf and pulled back the hood.

“My name is Nilean, elven warrior of the Kingdom of Loreandril. I come in peace,” the elf shouted above the blizzard. As soon as they saw he spoke the truth the Gnomes released him, bowing low, their beards touching the snowy ground.

“Forgive my fellow kin and I.” The officer bowed low again. “It is our humble honour to welcome you to our Kingdom.”

“Your apologies are needless, my friend. Wariness is vital in such dark times. I would ask however, that you free my mare.”

The gnomes nodded and nervously untied the bonds that held the horse down on the ground. As soon as she could, the mare shook herself free, tossing several gnomes to the side as she clambered to her feet, snorting angrily. She stamped and shook until all the loose ropes fell to the ground. Nilean, sensing and understanding her anger, took her reins. Stroking her neck, he whispered calming elvish words into her ears until she finally returned to her normal, gentle self. The gnomes still stood far back from her for fear of being kicked or trampled by the large beast.

“If you please, we are both freezing and our journey has been a long and arduous one.” Nilean motioned to the dark, inviting entrance.

“Of course! Come, come! I will send word to the King, requesting an audience.”

Gladly, the elf followed the soldiers through the gateway and down the long tunnel into Ghornathia, his faithful mare in tow.

Memories of the Kingdom were quickly revived. Very little had changed since his last visit, except perhaps the population. The Kingdom had clearly prospered and grown in its time hidden from the rest of the world. There was still a familiar warmth and smell, combined with the usual hustle and bustle of the place.

The gnomes, rushing about their usual daily business, were not too preoccupied to notice the elf and his horse. Many stood still in the middle of the streets, jaws dropped and eyes wide. An elf walking their streets truly was a sight to behold. Word travelled exceptionally quickly and soon the streets were filled with gnomes wanting to see the elf for themselves.

It was not long before the news reached Gomel. There was nothing that could stop he and Cradon from making their way down to the streets below to catch sight of the elf, hoping it was Eilendan or Nymril. Their excitement grew as they pushed through the crowds getting ever closer for a clear view.

Realising it was hopeless, the two companions made their way to the King’s palace instead, the elf’s destination. Other gnomes had also had the same idea. Gomel and Cradon, mindful of his shoulder, were carried forward in the surge. Thankfully, given who they were, the guards spotted them, clearing a route through so they could climb the staircase into the safety of the Palace.

“Come, we should take our seats in the main chamber, where the King will hold his audience with the elf. Unless of course it is not an open meeting….then…..” There was an anxious fervour to Gomel’s voice.

“What will happen then?” Cradon tried to stay as close to Gomel as possible, fearing he would lose the gnome amidst the rest of the rushing folk.

“Then, my boy, we will not be able to view the meeting, unless of course we can……”

“We can what?” shouted Cradon over heads of other gnomes.

“Well, we can try and request an audience as well, given who you are, and our recent mission!”

Gomel clasped Cradon’s arm tightly and together they continued ploughing through the growing crowd that swarmed the busy corridors of the palace.

They reached the main chamber before the elf had even entered the palace, giving them plenty of time to find the Speaker of the House, the only one other than the King who could give permission for Gomel and Cradon to be present.

The Speaker was run off his feet, almost pulling out his hair with the urgent preparations for the guest. He was irritated that he had received no advanced warning, but given the recent events nothing and everything was to be expected. Gomel tried to talk to him, but the Speaker shooed him away as he spewed out orders to servants who were scuttling back and forth in a state of panic. Gomel continued to press him.

“Really, I myself don’t know! I have not even seen this elf, so how am I supposed to know whether it will be a private or open audience? I don’t know!” shouted the Speaker, his frustration boiling over. Finally he agreed to speak to the King on behalf of Gomel and Cradon.

Happy that he had done his best, Gomel led Cradon to the main hall to take their seats and await the elf’s arrival.

Fanfares announced the arrival of the elf after an hour of battling his way through the ogling crowds. The court waited in silent anticipation, each member wanting to catch sight of the elf and discover the purpose of his visit.

Nilean had been expecting a reception, but not one of this scale. It was quite overwhelming, even to such a level-headed elf as Nilean. After seeing his horse was taken care of appropriately, he was led into the Palace. Immediately, the Speaker of the House was upon him, offering him everything and anything to make his stay more comfortable and asking numerous questions one after the other.

“Please, the most important thing is that I speak to the King as soon as possible,” Nilean requested.

“Yes, of course, sir.” The Speaker was bobbing up and down, bowing continuously as if he was in the presence of royalty. “He is already expecting you. Please, follow me!”

“There is just one thing I need to ask of….”

“Of course……..” The Speaker beckoned for him to continue following, guards in front clearing the corridors of spectators.

“While I bring a message of great importance from my Elders, I also request answers to important questions of my own.”

“Well, sir, I can try, but really it would be better to wait for the King.”

“Tell me, have any strangers come to your Kingdom, or anyone returned from any recent missions of great importance?” Nilean did not want to make it too obvious who he was asking about. There were too many probing ears of unwanted listeners and gossips in close proximity.

The Speaker stopped in his tracks and beckoning the elf to step in closer whispered, “The two you speak of have returned, they have already requested they speak with you. That is all I can say, the rest is up to the King.”

“Please make sure they are also present.”

The Speaker, understanding immediately, bowed again and continued leading the elf to the main hall.

Cradon had not been into these chambers before, and was highly impressed by the opulent decoration that festooned the room. More so, he was pleased that these ceilings were relatively high so he could stand fully upright, easing the dull twinge in his neck from constant stooping.

Fanfares sounded once more, this time heralding the elf’s entrance into the main hall. All stood in awe and silence. Near the back, Cradon and Gomel got their first real look at the elf and were sorely disappointed to find it was neither Eilendan nor Nymril.

“My auspicious viewers and fellow kin, I regret to announce that the following proceedings will be conducted in the privacy of the King’s chambers!” announced the Speaker. There was an all round groan of disappointment.

The Speaker then motioned for a courtier to approach and whispered something to him before beckoning the elf to follow him to the closed chambers of the King. Slowly the disgruntled gnomes filtered out of the hall.

The courtier made his way up the aisles of tiered seating to where Gomel and Cradon were preparing to leave.

“Excuse me!” shouted the courtier over the heads of the last few gnomes, determined to catch Gomel and Cradon before they left. “Excuse me!”

Realising he was trying to get their attention, they climbed down to meet him.

“Your presence has been requested. The elf specifically asked for you.”

Without the need for further explanation they quickly followed him to the closed chambers.

The elf was already seated before the King in an elegant, low-backed, oval chair, of heavy gold-leafed wood. A small number of entourage lingering in the background, just out of earshot, ready to jump to attention if needs be. The King motioned for Cradon and Gomel to step forward and as he did the elf stood to greet the visitors.

“Greetings! I come baring tidings from Loreandril. It truly gives me great pleasure to speak with such honoured kin.” The elf bowed low, his arm crossed against his chest as a sign of respect. His silver, fine hair and braids gently slumped forward revealing the decorative star symbol of Loreandril down his back.

“The honour is ours, my friend!” Gomel returned the gesture, jerking Cradon down with him.

“My name is Nilean. You and I have met in passing before. But I have not yet had opportunity to meet this young clansman.” Nilean looked at Cradon, studying him as if sensing a vague memory of some distant meeting.

“My name is Cradon, son of Jesfor of the Glamrind Family, clansman of the Hundlinger tribe.”

“An impressive introduction, young son.” The elf smiled, and nodded his approval.

“You have a look as if you have already seen me before?” probed Cradon.

Nilean smiled broadly, “It gladdens my heart to meet you and be the bearer of good news.”

“His brother!” exclaimed Gomel, the penny dropping. “You have met his brother! Pray tell, was he in the company of four others?”

“Indeed! But there is much we need to discuss first with the King. But know this, it is great tidings indeed to meet you both, and in such good health.”

“The King has already told you about……”

The elf held up his slender hand causing Gomel to pause mid sentence. “All has been explained.” He turned to indicate to a spherical shape that sat upon an intricately carved pedestal, dark purple velvet draped upon it.

Servants positioned two more chairs before the King. The three guests took their seats and an air of quietness fell in the room. It was a relief from the frantic excitement that could still be heard through the chamber walls.

“We have much to discuss,” continued the King. “I am pleased both you, Gomel and the young clansman could be a party to this memorable of occasions. These truly are events that will not lightly be forgotten. The presence of the Aeonorgal, an honoured elf and even a clansman.” The King paused as a servant quickly brought a small tray of wine and fruits for the guests. “I have already had a brief opportunity to speak with Nilean, perhaps he would like to enlighten you both also.”

Nilean nodded in agreement and took a deep breath. “Things have been set in motion, perhaps quicker than any of us would have liked.”