Renown of the Raithlin: Book One of the Raithlindrath Series (25 page)

Halls of Lore. Chamber 7. Aisle 23. Item 346

General subject: Migration of Camar tribes

Topic: The founding of Esgallien

Author: Careth Tar

People can say what they want. I know the truth.

It is told that Conhain grew restless under the sway
of the Halathrin and was eager to lead his tribe toward the fertile lands of
the east. Certainly, report of other clan-chiefs who had established free and
prosperous realms in those wide regions sparked such a desire in many.

Other stories suggest that a lòhren foretold him a
difficult journey but long life, lasting fame, and wealth for his nation if he
led the migration.

The truth is that the less people know the more they
invent.

Conhain had great love for the Halathrin. All he
wanted was to dwell among them, to roam their great forest domain and learn of
their lore. The immortals had enriched his life, as they had his entire clan.
Their influence had ennobled generations of migrating tribes, often primitive
and barbaric races fleeing turmoil in the west of Alithoras. They taught them
the higher arts of civilization and formed a federation that resisted the
northward incursion of elugs.

Nevertheless, Conhain knew his people wished to
migrate and that they would march eventually. He had decided that when the time
came he would relinquish his chieftainship and remain in the lands that he loved:
until I spoke with him.

I did not predict long life and fame. Indeed, I
warned him that if he led his people eastward he would not survive to establish
a kingdom.

Yet I asked him to go anyway. I foretold that if he
participated in a battle when they reached their destination, his people would
be victorious. If he did not, they would be destroyed. No more had I seen, no
more did he ask of me. In a quiet moment, away from witnesses, friends or
family, he resolved to sacrifice everything for his people.

Necessity often drives me against my will, though
seldom has it filled me with such anguish, for Conhain's like is rarely seen.
He was a vigorous leader, always willing to listen to his people, quick with a
smile and slow to anger. Slights he swiftly forgave and was generous to friend
and stranger alike. When I told him of the danger to his clan, even the death
that awaited him, he did not rail against circumstances or show anger at the
lòhren who asked so much of him. Instead, he thanked me for helping his people.

This much is true of what the stories say. There
were great eastward migrations, and the lands toward the coast were lush and
fertile. The free cities had begun to flourish. However, word of their
prosperity was ever exaggerated, and the hardships of the earlier resettlements
glossed over.

Ebona was the chief mover of this. She held a high
place in the counsels of some clan-chiefs, though most had ceased to listen to
her and turned their ears toward the wisdom of the Halathrin and the teachings
of lòhrens. Consequently, her power and authority was much diminished and her
time passing. This, she could not endure, for being a creature of ùhrengai that
had left her birthing lands when the ancient Camar moved toward Halathar, she
had been sustained instead by their worship and blood sacrifice. But they had
emerged from those dark days and put the primitive ceremonies of their
ancestors behind them.

Yet once, she was a goddess, and she craved that
again. She wanted kings to rule beneath her, to guide the destiny of the
multitude at her direction and to increase her strength by their veneration and
sacrifice. I know this to be true, for I sought to dissuade her from that path.
However, my attempt was futile. She despised me, for I held the trust of many
chiefs and the more they heeded me the hotter her hatred grew.

On a time, when fresh rumors of the east were
stirred up, Balmur, a young clan-chief, came to prominence. He was a favorite
of Ebona, and he heeded me not, nor any other lòhren, and seduced by the
prospect of kingship and rule by the side of a goddess he gathered many to him.
He promised them a realm free of Halathrin influence, governed according to
ancient Camar custom.

Whether by accident, or as I think more likely, the
design of Ebona, there was at that time a great attack by the enemy who sought
to force a crossing of the ford in the Careth Nien just east of Halathar. A
joint regiment of warriors from several Camar tribes guarded the ford, and
Conhain was their leader. The ford was defended, with great loss of life, and
the enemy repelled. However, during the battle messengers were sent to the
Halathrin for aid, but it never eventuated. I discovered afterward that the
messengers never reached their destination, nor were they ever seen again.

Balmur proclaimed that the Halathrin had left them
to fight and die in their stead and urged that the time was right to migrate.
There was great anguish, and his words caught like fire in dry grass. Swiftly
he acted, Ebona always nearby, and a host nearing ten thousand was readied,
though ill prepared to march.

At the dawn of a bleak day, the people commenced
their journey. Conhain, against his true desire, led a great mass. Balmur
another, though not so large, and he was irked that although he had goaded the
people into this action most still followed Conhain.

They marched side by side, the bulk of the warriors
at the front, and then the women and children. Behind each column was a ragged
band of wagons that carried their hastily gathered supplies. Last of all was a
rearguard of warriors that drove cattle and other stock. It was a great mass of
humanity; some on horseback but most on foot, and it flowed and ebbed like a
second river along the north bank of the Careth Nien.

During the long march, Ebona was ever at the side of
Balmur, and they headed their column on matching milk-white steeds. They were
surrounded by her hounds, great black beasts that snarled at all who neared
them. Conhain, though he had a great roan warhorse, chose to lead it by hand instead
of ride. He spent most of each day walking up and down the line, sharing a
quick joke with the people and offering encouragement.

Neither Balmur nor Ebona had specified a
destination. However, Conhain knew that they could only travel so far before building
shelters. Summer was swiftly passing, and the cold and wet would soon set in.
It would be foolish to continue the journey into winter, for the frail would be
at risk of sickness and exposure, yet Balmur refused to discuss the issue,
saying only that they must travel as far as possible from Halathar. Contention
grew between the leaders as the weeks passed.

Conhain, like all his people, had been born near
Halathar and had never left the region. But I had. Of all the host, including
Ebona, I was the only one who had travelled the lands we now traversed. Each
day I discussed the upcoming terrain with him and his retinue, and a time came
when I told them we approached Esgallien Ford. I knew it was a good place to
settle. The land was fertile, and the climate conducive to raising crops and
stock. Also, the ford could be defended against enemy attack; a benefit to the
Camar and the rest of Alithoras. Conhain considered my advice for several days
then announced that he would winter at the ford and establish a city there.

Balmur was incensed and stormed into the camp. He
insisted, to no avail, that Conhain reconsider as the ford was too close to the
influence of the Halathrin. Then, in an unseemly rage, he drew his sword.
Conhain signaled for his retinue to eject him. Disarmed and ashamed at his
treatment, he returned to Ebona, and together they conceived a great evil.
Balmur would suffer no denial of his will, and Ebona coveted blood sacrifice.

Within the week, the host reached the region of the
ford. Balmur might have led a portion on, but many repented their earlier haste
and saw the necessity of establishing winter shelters. He knew he could not
muster a sufficient number to face the perils of travel or to found his own
realm. Discontented, he undertook the guard of the ford.

Conhain camped a few miles upstream, and more of the
people now looked to him for leadership, and he ordered things to his will.
Most importantly, he sent forth scouts to survey the country. These had been
specially trained in Halathar and were named
Raithlin.

When the Raithlin started to return they brought
tidings of good lands, fertile soils, expansive forests and game. Most
influential were reports of a gold-rich creek only a day’s march to the north.
Conhain, unusually silent and withdrawn, rode there and inspected it. After
some time, with a strange expression on his face, he proclaimed that he would
establish his city there, with all the high knowledge and skill the Halathrin
had given his people, and that it would act as a bulwark against the enemy.

On a hill above the site, he ordered his banner
planted in the ground and left. When he rode away he did not look back. I knew
he would never return, and I think he felt it too. It is said that when the
shadow of death is heavy upon some men they see a vision of the future. I do
not know if that happened to him. He did not say so, and I did not ask, but his
manner suggested it.

During the journey back to the camp, we learned from
Raithlin who had crossed into Galenthern that an elug army swiftly approached.
Further on we heard that Balmur’s guard had ceded the ford after a short battle
and fallen back to Conhain’s encampment. The enemy now faced the Camar on the
north bank of the Careth Nien.

When we returned I sensed treachery, and ùhrengai
too. It was spread out in an invisible net over all our people; men, women and
children alike. Instantly, but still too late, I deduced Ebona’s plan. She had
sent word to the enemy and brought them here. Thus, a battle would be fought
and the spilled blood committed to her as a sacrifice.

I had no doubt that she arranged it. The enemy was
perhaps larger than she had anticipated, for their force was a third greater
than our own. But that is the way of perfidy – the betrayer is often betrayed.
Yet though she had miscalculated, I did not sense any worry. The total
destruction of our host would only increase her power all the more, and greatly
enhanced, she would return to Halathar and attempt to dominate other Camar
tribes.

There was fear and despair in the camp, for the
warriors doubted they could defeat the elug army, especially with divided
leadership, yet they could not retreat swiftly enough with women, children and
the elderly to avoid battle.

Balmur came once more to Conhain, and this time Ebona
was with him. She demanded a sacrifice, and promised that fortified by blood,
she could ensure a Camar victory. Conhain did not consider it. He refused, and
it was the only time that I saw him lose his temper. In great fury he scorned
Ebona and ordered his retinue to cast the two of them from his presence.

Ebona must have thought he would be forced to agree.
At first she shrank away from his wrath, then her eyes flashed with hatred. Had
I been quick enough I might have prevented what happened next, but Balmur drew
his sword and slashed at me while Ebona cast flame from her fingers among
Conhain’s retinue. They were forced away from their lord, and she turned her
power upon him. Her fire struck the sword from his grip and drove him to the
ground where she set her hounds upon him.

Swiftly I killed Balmur, but not soon enough. I
glanced at Conhain, and the mad din of the barking hounds pierced my ears, and
their bloodthirsty snarls caused my hair to stand on end. Never will I forget
the sound.

Conhain was in trouble. He was viciously mauled,
some of his flesh hanging in ribbons, his fine clothes shredded, and his face
smeared with blood. He kicked with his legs and with his arms struggled to keep
the dogs from his throat. Yet I saw that already he was mortally wounded.

I flung lòhren-fire at the hounds and scattered
them, but a blast of ùhrengai smashed me to the ground. Ebona strode toward me,
and the hatred of all the long years where her power had been eroded by lòhrens
and Halathrin blazed in her eyes.

“Die!” she screamed.

She stabbed at me with fingers that spurted
ùhrengai, and a battle ensued. Word of what happened afterward spread far and
wide. Great was her strength even though she was diminished from what she once
was, but necessity drove me, as it ever does, and at length I found a way to
prevail.

Men saw that she, who was once a goddess, was now
humbled and stripped of the remnant of her power, and the hounds whimpered and
yelped as they fled with her into the wilderness. What they did not see was the
dispersing of the net of ùhrengai that she had cast over the people. So ended
Ebona’s influence over the Camar, but she will hate me so long as the world
endures.

I staggered toward Conhain, thinking to find him
dead, but somehow he held the breath of life to his broken body. We tended his
many wounds and staunched the flow of blood with linen. I fixed a square of the
white cloth to a gash in his scalp, but it, like the rest, was soon stained red
by his lifeblood.

He turned weakly toward me. “It’s as you foretold.”

I nodded, unable to speak. Only a man of great heart
could cling to life with such injuries.

“I’m nearly done,” he said. “But help me one last
time, old friend. I have a final duty to perform.”

With disbelief I helped him. He should already have
died, but we assisted him to his warhorse, and he commanded that his feet be
tied to the stirrups and his waist lashed to the saddle. It was done, but I do
not know what kept him upright except the iron-like power of his will that for
a time was stronger than fate.

Slowly we proceeded to the battle lines. Word went
ahead that Ebona was banished and Balmur slain. Men saw Conhain on his
warhorse. They realized that their leader, whom they loved, was coming to fight
with them and their hearts swelled. The despair that was in them transformed
into sudden hope, and they chanted his name. But even as they did so, the enemy
attacked and swept toward us as a dark wave.