The Last Elf of Lanis (16 page)

Wynnfrith ran to her side without concern for her safety.

“Has he harmed you?” Wynnfrith said stroking Halldora’s hair.

“No,” she said, “no.”

Wynnfrith then led Halldora away.

“Where were you? What have you done?” Kellabald demanded of Apghilis.

Apghilis’ face was contemptuously slack, and without answering, he turned and shuffled away to sit by his and Feeblerod’s campfire.

Kellabald watched Feeblerod lean into Apghilis to mutter in secrecy. Kellabald then edged away to join Wynnfrith and Halldora.

At their camp fire, Wynnfrith stroked Halldora’s face, but Halldora remained silent. Kellabald gathered together what food he could find to make something for them to eat.

All the rest of the morning, the two groups remained apart, watching each other.

Later in the morning Halldora began to cry.

“What is it?” Kellabald sympathetically asked.

“I told him of the riddles,” Halldora sobbed. “He threatened awful things to you and Wynnfrith. I told him the first two riddles. I withheld the third. I told him there were only two No matter how he pressed, threatened or coaxed, I insisted there were only two.”

“It’s okay,” Wynnfrith held Halldora. “We should have been there for you.”

“But he knows,” Halldora said through sobs. “Feeblerod heard Kellabald last night. He knows that you know where the sword is,” she said to Kellabald.

“If he was certain I knew, they would have attacked me by now,” Kellabald said standing with determination.

“Sit down,” Wynnfrith firmly said. “There are three of us, and they must have supposed Halldora and I can fight. So we are safe for now. Let us eat and gather our strength.”

Kellabald immediately grasped the wisdom of Wynnfrith’s words. He kissed her on the top of her head, and sat next to her, but with a vantage so he could watch Apghilis and Feeblerod. They ate and waited.

About midday, Feeblerod began screaming. Kellabald, Wynnfrith and Halldora grabbed their weapons and rushed towards the screams.

At the edge of Bittel three garond soldiers stood before Apghilis who confronted them with his drawn sword.

Before Kellabald could reach his side, Apghilis began swinging his sword over his head and bellowed at the garonds. The garonds soldiers weakly swung their clubs, and then ran off into the high grass of the eastern meadowland.

As Kellabald reached Apghilis, who was breathing hard, Apghilis turned to him and said, “We have no time, they’ll be back with reinforcements.”

Kellabald stared hard at Apghilis. “I have never seen garond soldiers turn and run without a fight.”

“He saved us!” Feeblerod whined. “What more proof do you need of his good faith?”

Kellabald backed away from Apghilis and Feeblerod. He could feel Wynnfrith and Halldora with their spears at his side.

Apghilis stared hard at Kellabald, then broke into a deep laugh from his gut. Apghilis raised his hand and cuffed Feeblerod hard to the ground. “I told you he was more intelligent than he appears.” Apghilis then turned and called out to the high grass where the garonds had disappeared.

From the edge of the meadowland twenty five garonds swaggered into Bittel.

Kellabald, Wynnfrith and Halldora backed up in horror.

Feeblerod began gesturing and grunting to the garonds while Apghilis looked on in contempt.

Feeblerod turned to Kellabald. “Put aside your weapons or they will kill you,” he said.

“You traitors!” Halldora screamed.

Apghilis raised his hand in disgust, as the garonds advanced.

Kellabald readied his stance, but then Apghilis called sharply to the garonds and they stopped in their tracks.

The leader of the garonds approached Apghilis and made gestures of obedience.

Apghilis turned to Kellabald and said, “Well?”

Kellabald turned to Wynnfrith. “There are too many,” he said with despair. Kellabald, Wynnfrith and Halldora surrendered their weapons.

The rest of the day was spent torturing Kellabald, who would not talk.

As evening fell, a garond messenger on horseback arrived, and all but three garonds left Bittel in a hurry.

Apghilis had Kellabald released, to eat and to be seen to by his wife.

As Wynnfrith dressed her husband’s wounds, Feeblerod squatted next to them. “Why continue to hide the sword? We will find it, and your life will have been wasted. I can save you. Tell me where the Mattear Gram is hidden. I have saved many lives! I am on your side.” When there was no response Feeblerod rose with a repugnant huff and carried his obesity away.

“What shall I do, wife?” Kellabald said with pleading eyes to Wynnfrith.

“I have no sight for this. I only know we survive to see our son,” she said.

That night they slept little under the cloud filled night sky.

In the late morning, Apghilis woke Kellabald with a kick. With an imperious gesture he had the garonds remove the shackles from Kellabald, Wynnfrith and Halldora.

Food was brought to Kellabald and the women. They ate while watching Apghilis secretly conferring with Feeblerod throughout the morning. Two more garonds had joined the others in the night, so now there were five. The garonds snarled and restlessly waited for their human captain to order them to violence.

The sun was breaking through the clouds and filling the village with light and warmth.

After what seemed a long morning, Apghilis and Feeblerod rose, and with the garonds close behind, approached Kellabald, Wynnfrith and Halldora.

“All this time Haergill was hiding here,” Apghilis said with a belch. “Did an atheling named Varknifl ever call here in Bittel? No? He was like a son to me. I sent him to find the coward king, and he was never heard of again.” Apghilis turned, and with a dismissive flip of his hand had the garonds drag Kellabald and the women over to the large fire set up in the center of Bittel.

“There will be no more delay,” Apghilis said, and sat on a pile of clothing as though it was his by right.

“Throw the dark haired one into the fire,” Apghilis proclaimed to Feeblerod. A look of lecherous disappointment briefly passed Feeblerod’s face, and then he turned to grunt to the garonds, who then roughly grabbed Wynnfrith and pulled her towards the fire.

“Wait!” Kellabald cried. “I don’t know where the sword is. But I think I know.”

“Do you or don’t you?”

“Don’t tell them,” Wynnfrith bravely cried.

“Our lives are more precious than some piece of metal,” Kellabald said. “There are three riddles.”

“Three!?” Apghilis shot a venomous glance at Halldora, who looked down in the bright afternoon sun.

“I want your promise,” Kellabald said. “As an atheling of the Northern Kingdom of Man, that you will free us when you have the sword.”

“Yes, yes,” Apghilis said disdainfully.

Kellabald rose and, turning, took in all of Bittel.

“The first riddle,” he said, “seems easy. But it is deceptive.” The pain of the torture from the day before ached in Kellabald’s bones. Kellabald recited the first riddle.

“I shelter you from rain and sun,

Warm you when the cold days come,

With arms outstretched, old and grooved,

A leaning friend, I can’t be moved.”

“Yes,” said Apghilis, “a house.”

“No,” said Kellabald, “a tree.”

“Of course! I knew it all along!” Feeblerod cried. “It’s buried under a tree!”

But the sudden enormity of his statement made him freeze in his quivering fatness, for Bittel had almost a hundred trees.

“But which one,” Apghilis derisively said.

Feeblerod dumbly stared at the numerous trees surrounding Bittel, and was silent.

“The second riddle tells us which tree,” Kellabald said. Then he recited the second riddle.

“To the silver traveler I have no end,

I’m the mother winding round your friend,

As long, as far, as distant lands,

Pick me up, I’m not in your hands.”

“It means nothing!” Feeblerod cried.

Kellabald snorted. “To you it means nothing.” Kellabald turned and walked, and the whole company rose and followed him.

Kellabald led them to the creek that ran through Bittel.

“Here,” said Kellabald with outstretched hand, “is the mother of all lands. Water. And see,” he pointed to small fish darting in the shallows, “are the silver travelers.”

“As long, as far as distant lands” Apghilis said contemplating the winding stream.

“Pick me up, I’m not in your hands,” Feeblerod said as he scooped a handful of water and let it trickle through his fingers.

“But the mother,” Kellabald said limping along the edge of the creek, “winds around our friend.”

“A tree,” Feeblerod shrieked, “by the stream!”

“Yes,” Kellabald said with a quiet look to Wynnfrith.

“But there are still twenty, thirty trees by this water,” Feeblerod said with girlish exasperation.

“The answer,” said Kellabald, “is clever. Because the first riddle and the second together tells us which tree, but the third riddle tells us where the sword is hidden.” And then Kellabald recited the third riddle.

“I build the castle, then tear it down,

I count the minutes without a frown,

I’m found by the score under land and sea

And what you seek is under me.”

“Explain,” Apghilis said excitedly scratching his round belly.

Kellabald stopped by the stream, then pointed. “A leaning friend, from the first riddle.” Across the stream, an enormous oak leaned across the water.

“Cut it down at once!” Apghilis ordered.

“Wait!” Kellabald said. “You have completely neglected the third riddle.”

“It’s sand,” Halldora said. “I always knew it was sand.”

All stared down at the sandy bank under the water which wound around the large oak leaning over the stream. It seemed to sparkle like effervescent gold in the midday sun. No one moved.

Then, Kellabald tenderly stepped into the water. He gingerly put his hands into the sandy shoal, stirring clouds of silt in the water. The air was still, no breeze disturbed Bittel. All seemed to hold their breath. The quiet, red and tan leaves of the oak overhead softly rocked in anticipation. Kellabald seemed to have a hold of something.

Then, Kellabald lifted the Mattear Gram from the sparkling water. The sun was like shafts of brilliant gold, beaming through the trees as he held it aloft, with diamond droplets of water dripping from the sword.

It had no scabbard, so the naked blade reflected the sunlight like a hundred brilliant mirrors as Kellabald held it high in wonder.

The hilt was gold and seemed to be cradling a dark wooden core on one side. It also had a strange, long, metal tube that protruded from the end of the hilt. The blade was long, light in thickness and an average width from edge to edge. It was made of a light, silvery metal not seen in any other sword in human hands. Along the flat of the blade was a gold pattern, a sun, near the hilt, some elvish writing, and a flag or banner that seemed to curl and twist all the way to the tip of the sword.

Kellabald turned the Mattear Gram in his hands. The other side showed a gold pattern of a crescent moon, with more elvish writing, and a similar banner winding up the length of the blade. The sword seemed to sing or speak to him as he moved it.

Kellabald was so filled with wonder that he hardly noticed Apghilis splashing into the water, until Apghilis wrested the sword from his hands.

Apghilis held the sword high in victory. “I have it!” He crowed. Feeblerod clapped his hands and minced a little dance of joy around Wynnfrith.

As Apghilis held the sword, the earth began to shake in disapproval. The earthquake fiercely splashed the water of the stream, and was so violent, all had to cling to something to keep from falling to the ground. The trees of Bittel shook with anger.

Apghilis fell to all fours in the water, but then regained his footing as the earthquake abated.

Slogging out of the water, Apghilis said, “We have no time. Come. We must do this at once.”

All followed Apghilis as he strode to the great fire at the center of the village.

There, he thrust the sword into the edge of the fire to heat the blade.

“You gave us your promise you would free us once you had the sword,” Kellabald firmly said.

“Maybe. If you swear allegiance to me, once I become the new king of the Northern Kingdom of Man.”

“That will never happen,” Halldora said without thinking.

“Will you not become my queen?” Apghilis said with a dangerous meaning, then checked to see how the blade was heating.

“You gave a promise as an atheling,” Kellabald said.