Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (18 page)

A Change in Plan

They traveled through the Hills of Mist all day, only taking a short break for the noon meal. Hidar proved to be good company. He passed the time by talking about his homeland, and asking naive questions of his new group of friends. His exuberance and innocence were disarming. Even Barlo and Linwyn were drawn into conversation with him. He earned nothing but scowls from Golaron, who refused to speak with him. Unfazed, Hidar continued to chat away.

There seemed to be an unspoken agreement among the original companions to avoid mentioning their quest. Although Hidar was likeable, they had only known him a few hours.

Iarion did not want to make any decisions about the man until he had the chance to discuss the matter in private with the others, but for his own part, he found himself liking Hidar. His youth and enthusiasm were infectious. It reminded Iarion of a time when he was young and the world seemed wide and full of promise.

Nal Huraseadro came into view as the sun was beginning to set. They circled the city to approach its gates from the west. Instead a tower, it was a sprawling complex of buildings surrounded by a sturdy wall. The craftsmanship was fair, but could not be compared with the dwarven workmanship of Belierumar. It seemed to rise from the mist, surrounded by the hills to the east.

To the west lay the Great North Road, over which the people of Nal Huraseadro kept watch. The land opened into the Upper Daran Nunadan to the north, where the herds of Nal Huraseadro’s prized horses ran until they reached the Silvershroud River and the Mountains of Shadow. The only way through the mountains was the Pass of Stars, which led to Hidar’s homeland, the Daran Falnun.

“If the city has not fallen, why did they not send us any warning or come to our aid?” Linwyn asked.

“There is more to learn here,” Lysandir said. “You will get your answers soon enough.”

The group approached the city. The gate was shut. The place seemed quiet, and Iarion was surprised when he saw a pair of guards standing watch over the front gate from the wall above. They wore red and brown, the colors of the city. They were also well armored. Both men reached for their bows at the group’s approach.

“Halt! Who seeks entrance to Nal Huraseadro?”

Lysandir stepped forward. “We are weary companions who seek news and rest.”

“Lysandir!” The man lowered his bow. “Our lord will be eager to meet with you. Can you vouch for your companions?”

“I give you my word. They will cause no harm.” Lysandir gave each of the others a glance of warning to reinforce his words. His eyes lingered on Linwyn, who flushed and looked away.

“Then enter and be welcome.” The guard gave a signal to someone below him and the gate began to swing open. “Our lord is giving audience in his hall.”

“Thank you,” Lysandir said.

The Learnéd One led the way through the arched gate. The city was silent. Other than the occasional child peering through a window, they saw no one. The place felt empty.

The houses fell away and a single building appeared before them on a rise, backing onto the Hills of Mist. It was a large structure of stone, traced with starsilver. Here, the craftsmanship was akin to the tower of Belierumar.

“The dwarves of Dwarfhaven crafted this long ago,” Barlo said. “They probably would have done more if not for the betrayal.” He sighed and patted the stone.

Two more guards stood watch over the entrance to the hall. Their eyes widened at the sight of Lysandir and his companions.

“Greetings, Learnéd One,” the first guard said. Both men bowed. “May I ask the names of your company so I may announce them?”

“Certainly,” Lysandir said. “This man is Hidar, the son of the Chief of the Tribe of Horn. Here we have Barlo, Chief of Clans of Dwarvenhome. The man and woman are Golaron and Linwyn, the children of Lord Eranander, and the two elves are Silvaranwyn and Iarion. Silvaranwyn is the daughter of the Lord and Lady of the Light Elves, and Iarion is an elf held in high regard among his kind.”

The first guard blinked for a moment, then nodded. “One moment.” He opened the door to the hall and stepped inside. After a few moments, he returned and gestured for the group to enter.

Lysandir led the way in. The hall was even larger on the inside. Tall, stone columns bent in graceful arcs high above their heads. Barlo’s eyes lit at the sight.

The walls were covered with tapestries. Many of them featured the horses the people of the city held in such high regard. At the end of the hall sat an elderly man on a modest throne. He had long, gray hair and a close-cropped beard. He wore a plain circlet of gold on his brow. Despite his age, his dark green eyes still seemed clear and perceptive as they swept over the approaching group.

Lysandir stepped forward and bowed. “Greetings, Lord Andiraron.”

“What strange and honored company you keep, Lysandir!” The man gave them a wondering smile. “It is a pity you come in such unpleasant times.”

“It is unpleasant events that have brought us to you,” Lysandir said.

“I feared as much.” The lord shook his head. “What news from the south?”

“Belierumar was recently besieged by an army of dark creatures. They were led by two of the Forsworn. With some luck, my companions and I managed to arrive in time to push back the army to the Southern Passage. New alliances have been made among elves, dwarves, and men. Even the dwarves of Dwarfhaven came to the city’s aid.”

“What wondrous news!” Lord Andiraron’s eyes widened. “It has been generations since we last had contact with Dwarfhaven.”

Linwyn forced her way to the front of the group, shrugging her brother’s hand from her arm. “Why did you not send word the army was coming?” she said, ignoring Lysandir’s glare. “Why didn’t
you
come to our aid?”

“You pose valid questions.” Andiraron remained unshaken. “The midlands are not the only place the dark creatures roam unchecked. Weeks ago, an even larger army came through the Pass of Stars. We heard rumors of their approach and I sent my two sons with our army to make a stand. They were overrun. I am left with only those few who stayed to guard us here.

“The dark army then split into two forces. Half went south to your city. The other half went west under the leadership of a third Forsworn One to our sister city, Nal Nungalid. There was nothing we could do. Nal Nungalid has fallen. The dwarves of Dwarfwatch have retreated to the surrounding countryside, taking refuge in their halls. A Forsworn One rules Nal Nungalid now. We were no longer a hindrance, so the southbound army passed us by. The westbound army undoubtedly plans to overwhelm us once their hold on Nal Nungalid is secure.” Silence met the lord’s words.

“I am sorry we could not come to Belierumar’s aid,” he continued. “I sent a messenger to warn your father, but it seems he was intercepted.” Andiraron’s shoulders slumped. Sorrow and impotent anger warred within his eyes.

Linwyn stepped back, looking chagrined. Iarion’s hope abandoned him. If Nal Nungalid had fallen and the Pass of Stars was blocked, how could they continue north?

“Do your sons still live?” Lysandir asked.

“The last I heard, yes.”

“Why do you not recall them and the rest of your forces? If the dark army has already come through the Pass of Stars, there is no further need to guard it,” the Learnéd One said.

“Unfortunately, there is a need.” Lord Andiraron sighed. “Many tribes in the Daran Falnun are being persuaded to join the Fallen One. Soon they will muster and try to force their way through the pass.”

The lord’s eyes narrowed. “Now allow me to ask you a question. What is your group’s purpose here in the northlands? You are too few to be an army, and too varied a group to be on a pleasure jaunt.”

For several moments, no one spoke. Iarion’s companions shared looks of unspoken doubt. Barlo, Linwyn, and Golaron looked at Hidar with uncertain expressions.

Silvaranwyn stepped forward. “We are on a quest to travel into the dark lands and retrieve the tainted portion of the Quenya held by Saviadro. We are trying to reunite it with the rest of the Quenya before the Fallen One’s army can reach Melaquenya.” Linwyn shot Silvaranwyn a dirty look and Hidar’s green eyes went wide. The others looked at her with surprise.

“Now you know our purpose,” Lysandir said. “You have given us news that our quest has become nearly impossible to fulfill. There is one more thing I would ask of you. Have you seen or had any news of Numarin here in the northlands?”

“I am sorry to say I have not,” Lord Andiraron said. “If I had, I would certainly have tried to enlist his aid.” He frowned. “But I would not say your quest is impossible. Although the Great North Road is blocked both to the north and east, there is another way. You could travel west to the Fey Wood and try to treat with the Wild Elves who dwell there. It is they who provide us with our horse breeding stock. They are reclusive, but you have two elves with you. Perhaps they will aid one of their own.”

Lysandir gave Iarion a pointed look. Iarion refused to meet the Learnéd One’s gaze. He could feel the eyes of his companions on him, curious about the silent exchange. Lysandir looked ready to probe him further, but Barlo pulled Iarion aside.

“I can tell you don’t like it,” the dwarf said. “But it might be the only choice we have. Do you think they would help us?”

“Not if you went on your own, but with me there, they might. I can’t be certain.” Iarion frowned.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just a part of my past I never thought I would have to revisit. I lived among the
Beliadar
for many years. I became one of them. You know this. I thought maybe they had the answers I sought. They are different from all the other Shadow Elf tribes. They aren’t called Wild Elves for nothing.”

“I know. I understand. Lysandir and Silvaranwyn will probably understand too. I’m not so sure about the twins.” Barlo forced Iarion to meet his gaze. “What you need to ask yourself is whether it’s worth the cost if it means we can fulfill our quest. Iarion, you’ve done lots of things you probably would never do again to find some connection with the Quenya. How is this any different?”

Iarion sighed. “You’re right, of course. Who would have thought that an elf would ever say those words to a dwarf?” Iarion allowed himself to smile.

“Don’t start with me.” Barlo shook his fist in mock anger.

Iarion turned to face the others. “We will meet with the Wild Elves. I do not know for certain whether they will aid us, but it’s the best chance we have.”

Lord Andiraron signaled for a map to be brought over. He rose from his seat and unrolled the parchment onto a table, placing his finger on a location just north of the Barrier Mountains and east of the Wild River.

“This is where they usually meet with us to trade,” he said. “It is watched. If you go there, they should at least talk to you.”

“Thank you,” Lysandir said. “Your information has proved quite valuable.”

“Rest here tonight and set out fresh tomorrow,” the lord said. “Your quest is dangerous. I would ask you to stay and help us here, but I know if you are not successful, then any battle fought here will be meaningless. The people of Nal Huraseadro must stand on their own.”

A page led the group to a dining room where a meal was already laid out for them. No one spoke. They were all still digesting the news. Eventually, Hidar broke the silence.

“I do not blame you for not telling me of your quest,” he said. “You did not know whether I could be trusted.”

“You never asked Lord Andiraron for aid,” Iarion said, realizing it for the first time.

“His people are clearly in no position to offer assistance.” Hidar shrugged. He tore off a chunk from a loaf of bread. “So when do we set out tomorrow?”

“Who said you were coming?” Golaron asked.

“Your quest is dangerous. You need all the help you can get.”

“And what about your people?” Golaron folded his arms. “Are you just going to abandon them?”

“It is clear to me now there is no one who can come to the aid of my tribe.” Hidar sighed. “All of Lasniniar is looking to defend itself from the coming darkness. If I come with you and we are successful, my tribe will be saved. It is the best I can hope for.”

“Why don’t you return to your people and make a last stand with them? Surely you could aid them in the coming battle.” Golaron’s eyes narrowed.

Iarion was curious about the exchange. It was the most he had ever heard Golaron speak. His hinted accusations reminded the elf of Golaron’s father.

“Make no mistake, I am a strong warrior—one of the best of my people. But against a force like the Fallen One’s army, my presence would make little difference. As I said, the best chance for my people is traveling with you.” Hidar met Golaron’s challenging gaze.

“Enough!” Lysandir said. “Let us discuss whether Hidar comes with us. I think the decision should lie with Iarion. What do the rest of you say?” The others nodded their agreement, even Golaron.

Iarion shot Lysandir a glare. He did not like having the decision placed squarely on his shoulders.

“Very well,” the elf said. “Give me some time to think.”

Barlo pulled him aside. “Don’t do it. What do we know about this man? It’s bad enough we have
him
with us.” He jerked his head in Lysandir’s direction.

“I need to talk to Silvaranwyn,” Iarion said. “I think she knows something.” Iarion left his friend and walked over to the
Linadain
.

“You have a difficult decision to make,” Silvaranwyn said in her soft voice as he approached.

Iarion guided her to a corner of the room. “What do you know of Hidar?” he asked in Elvish. “How can you possibly know him? He shows no sign of knowing you.”

“I have seen him before,” she said. “But not face to face. Before I left Melaquenya, the Quenya revealed many things to me. I knew it would be the last time I would be able to commune with it fully. It showed me all the members of our group, traveling together to the dark lands. Hidar was with us.”