The Crystal Chalice (Book 1) (60 page)

 A terrible fear began
to attack me then. What if the chalice flower was only a legend? Even if it
were real, what if I simply couldn’t find it? By the time it was getting dark,
I had sunk on my knees by the altar in the blackest despair. Yet I could not
leave that place empty-handed. I could not return to you,” he lifted his eyes
to Elorin, “just to watch you die. Whatever else I might have failed in during
the course of my life, I could not fail in this. But I did not know what to do,
or where to turn, and in sheer torment I spoke two words aloud: - “
Help me!”

 Relisar gasped and
gripped his hands tightly together.

 “All at once, as if the
words were a talisman, the whole hilltop was instantly flooded with light - a
light so strong, so intense, that I was unable to look at it and was forced to
close my eyes.” He cast a glance around his audience. “Surely you must have
seen it last night? The whole hilltop was ablaze.”

 They all shook their
heads. “I stood the entire night looking in the direction of the hill,” said
Andarion, “but I saw no light.”

 “Go on, go on,” urged
Relisar impatiently.

 “Then - then a voice
spoke to me out of the light - at least, I’m not sure whether it actually spoke
aloud, or whether the words were merely inside my head. What it said to me,
I.......I am not permitted to repeat, not even to Elorin. Suffice it to say,
that the owner of that voice knew me better than I knew myself. He knew
everything I have ever done, or even thought.”

 “Were you afraid?”
whispered Triana.

 “Strangely, no, I was
not afraid. I felt a sense of awe, of reverence and an acute sense of my own
unworthiness, but I was not afraid. I don’t know how long the conversation
lasted, how long I knelt there with my eyes closed, but in the end I think I
must have fallen asleep because when I awoke, the sun was just rising from
behind the hills, sending long horizontal beams of light between the trunks of
the oak trees into the dell. Then I noticed that the light had caught something
in its beam, something that sparkled and flashed at the foot of the altar like
a diamond. I thought at first that it was a drop of dew, but as I bent closer,
I saw what it was - a tiny flower, like a jewel. Light shot from its petals in
a myriad of colours, almost dazzling me with their brightness. It seemed almost
sacrilege to touch it, but my need was great and I knew also, with utter
certainty, that it had been placed there for me. I stretched my hand towards
it, but before my fingers could even touch it, it just fell into my palm as if
willing to come with me. A tingling sensation, that might have been pleasure or
might have been pain, shot up my arm to my shoulder and I stood staring at it
for a long time as if in a trance, completely overcome by its beauty. It is a
moment that I will never forget.”

 He stopped speaking and
there was a moment’s awed silence.

 “I wish I could have
seen it,” Triana mourned softly. “Now I will never see one and no one will ever
believe me if I tell them this tale.”

 “It is not something
that I would repeat to anyone but the four of you,” said Celedorn. “It is too
precious an experience to be shared with many.”

 “You are right,” agreed
Andarion. “I did not see the chalice flower itself, but I saw the effect it had
on Elorin when you touched her with it, and that moment is too rare to be
shared with the imperceptive.”

 “Then we are agreed, my
children,” declared Relisar, at his most patriarchal. “This matter remains
between the five of us.”

 As he spoke, Celedorn
arose and walked over to his horse on the pretext of unsaddling it. Relisar
knew, with that percipience that was his gift, that the younger man was still
emotionally charged with his experiences, trying to conceal his feelings under
an impassive front. He also knew, with absolute certainty, that the most
important of the events on the Hill of the Seven Crowns had not been told to
them.

 He arose and followed
Celedorn. When his shadow fell across the horse’s shoulder, Celedorn looked up
from loosening the girth.

 “You were in doubt
about Elorin’s memory,” Relisar suggested softly.

 “Yes. I knew she would
remember who she really was, but it crossed my mind that in recovering her
distant memories, her more recent ones might be lost.”

 “Were you told that?”

 “No, for some reason it
occurred to me when I was riding back. I wondered if recovering her memory
might change her - alter her feelings.”

 There was a moment’s
silence as Celedorn continued with his task; then slowly, fearfully, Relisar
asked the question that had been in his mind since Celedorn had told his story.

 “What did you have to
give in exchange for such a gift?”

 Celedorn swung round,
startled by the question. “What makes you think there was a price?”

 “You are fencing with
me, my boy.”

 Celedorn stared at him
with narrowed eyes. “If ever I called you a fool, Relisar, I take it back.”

 “What did you offer,
Celedorn?” the old man persisted, a strange premonition gripping his heart.
“What did you give in return?”

 For a moment Relisar
thought that he was not going to receive a reply, but finally Celedorn spoke in
a low, subdued voice: “Something of unequal value - my life.”

 Relisar started and
involuntarily recoiled a pace. “But you couldn’t.....it wasn’t.......I mean,
you are still.......” He ground to a halt amidst the debris of unfinished
sentences.

 “Payment has been delayed
for a little while,” Celedorn explained softly. “I need not add that this is to
remain between the two of us. Do you understand?”

 The old man nodded,
tears standing in his eyes. “I knew it. I knew you would offer your life in
exchange for hers. Somehow I just knew it.”

 “You will not repeat
this to anyone,” Celedorn insisted. “Swear it.”

 The old man nodded. “I
swear.”

 Celedorn’s harsh look
softened a little. “One other thing I will tell you.” He hesitated for so long
that Relisar felt impelled to prompt him. “What is that?”

 “I......I have been
forgiven.”

 Relisar managed a
smile. “I never had the slightest doubt that you would be.”

 “You alone have always
had faith in me, have you not?”

 “Always.”

 “Perhaps someday I will
prove it justified.”

 “My dear boy, you need
prove nothing to me. You are every inch your father’s son and I stand in his
stead now to tell you that I am proud of you, just as he would tell you if he
were here in person.”

 Suddenly Celedorn
turned away and leaned his arms across the saddle, his head bowed. In an
unsteady voice, he said: “I thought I was going to lose her, Relisar. Only you
can guess what sort of hell she rescued me from. I couldn’t live without her
now. There is no going back for me.”

 He felt the old Sage’s
compassion flood over him like a blessing. “You will not lose her. That I can
tell you with absolute certainty. What you have done this day will not be in
vain.”

 Celedorn nodded
silently, and seeing that he needed to be alone, Relisar left him and returned
to the others.

 Late that night, when
everyone had gone to sleep and Celedorn alone was left on guard, Elorin arose
from her blankets and came and sat beside him by the glowing embers of the
fire.

 “Do you think that the
blackness will ever return?” she asked. “The night-time makes me uneasy.”

 “Relisar thinks not. By
virtue of the fact that it is a spirit, it cannot be killed, but he says he has
banished it back to its master.”

 “I did not think
Relisar had such power.”

 “I think we have all
underestimated him. He often makes a muddle of the little things, but when it
really matters, he never fails. You did not see him as I did, standing before
that dreadful blackness shining like a star, his whole being radiant with
silver light.”

 They both stared into
the glowing heart of the fire, watching a white feather of wood-ash fall from
the log like a large snowflake.

 “He thinks I do not
remember where I was,” said Elorin reflectively.

 Celedorn’s eyes left
the fire and fastened on her intently. “Do you?”

 “Yes, a little. More
impressions than memories. I was somewhere where no light had ever penetrated.
It had no walls, no boundaries, just the ground on which I stood and an endless
darkness all around. Yet it was not empty. The darkness itself had
consciousness, a will. I felt a presence all around me, a single being, who
watched me and read my thoughts. There was nowhere to run to,  nowhere to hide.
I was in a prison without walls, without bars - and that is the only kind of
prison that one can never escape from. I have never felt so alone and I became
so frightened, so terrified that I wanted to die. But after a while, I realised
that something lay between me and the Presence. Twice I sensed it reach for me
and twice I felt it recoil. I felt its frustration and its hate but gradually
the certainty grew upon me that even in such a place, I was protected. Then,
all at once, out of the darkness I heard a voice calling to me. “
Elorin,
Elorin,”
it cried, and I knew it was you. It was the same as at the
Serpent’s Throat when you called my name so urgently. All during my journey
through the Great Forest, before I even knew that you were following me, those
words, your voice, rang in my head and when I heard them in that dark place, I
knew that you were trying to find me.”

 While she had been
speaking, he had returned his gaze to the fire, gazing into its depths, the
light reflected in his pupils, but when she stopped, he raised his head again.
“Here is a strange thing, while I was searching for the chalice flower on the
Hill of the Seven Crowns, I found myself calling out your name, over and over,
as I searched. I scarcely knew I was doing it, for it was not the result of
conscious thought but from some source deep within me over which I had no
control. Again and again I called your name, as if by so doing, it drew you
closer to me.”

 Casting a quick glance
at the others to make sure they were asleep, he shifted his position on the
ground to face her, and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Promise me you
will never do such a thing again. Relisar was in no danger, you know, your
sacrifice would have been for nothing. Promise me you will never risk your life
like that again.”

 “My besetting sin has
always been impulsiveness.”

 The ghost of a smile
played around his lips. “Impulsiveness is too restrained a word for it. I could
call it something else.”

 She tilted her face
towards him, mutely inviting him to kiss her. Unable to resist her, he leaned
forward and gently did so. When he drew back, their eyes met and a powerful,
unspoken thought flashed between them, for he kissed her again with
unrestrained desire, catching her tightly against him.

 After a moment’s
reckless response, Elorin pushed him away. “The others,” she hissed in an
urgent undertone.

 “Oh, the others can go
to the devil!”

 She suddenly became
roguishly prim. “No, sir, they cannot, so please behave yourself.”

 He chuckled softly.
“Mountain brigands are not noted for behaving themselves.”

 “No,” she riposted,
“but the Prince has decided that you must become respectable, and I for one,
think it is an excellent plan.”

 “I would not dare to
argue with His Highness,” he promptly replied, avoiding the more serious issues
implicit in the statement - too many issues with no answers.

 “I’ll stay with you
until your watch is over,” she said, leaning comfortably against him. “I have
no desire to lie by myself in the darkness. I have had enough of darkness -
enough for a lifetime.”

 The following morning
dawned cool and pearl-grey. The sky was as nacreous as the inside of an oyster
and a drifting ground-mist clung mysteriously to the hollows in the grass. It
reminded Elorin of that misty autumn day, seemingly so long ago, when she had
awoken within the stone circle to find two complete strangers staring at her.
She recollected the sudden fear of realising that she remembered nothing, She
recalled the sense of not belonging. Yet those two strangers had become so dear
to her, their faces now so familiar, that they had become an integral part of
her heart.

 She had been standing
looking over the veiled plain in the direction of the Hill of the Seven Crowns,
which arose in the distance,  phantom-like, from the mist, when Relisar came
and stood beside her.

 “A year to the very
day, my dear. So much has happened during that time that it is hard to realise
that it is only a year. I awoke this morning feeling that there was something
special about today and a little bit of mental calculation informed me that you
and I first met precisely one year ago today.”

 “I was thinking of that
only just now. It must be the autumnal mist which reminded me of it. I want you
to know that I have no regrets about what you did, Relisar. If your spell had
not gone wrong that day, then I would never have met Celedorn, or indeed any of
you. I have lived more during this last year than during the rest of my life
put together and I have no regrets.”