The White Shadow Saga: The Stolen Moon of Londor (40 page)

"I have seen many rivers throughout my trails
in Eln-Radah, and this place does not speak to me in any way."

Randor strode over to the still furious
Malander. "Where did the Argos leader vanish to?" he asked the
knight.

"If I knew, Randor, I would still be after
him, wouldn't I?" Malander looked into the wizard's dark spectacles
and then turned around, consumed by the need to continue his battle
with the demonic leader of the Argos. "Just leave me alone, would
you?"

"Very well," Randor replied, "but keep your
wits about you."

Cailen took a brief and secretive council
with her advisors and asked hurriedly, "How many of our soldiers
remain?"

"We have not an exact number, Captain,"
answered one.

"I don't require an exact figure at the
moment," Cailen whispered. "All I want right now is a guess."

"Six hundred, perhaps less."

"And the Argos?"

"Perhaps seven hundred or a little more?"

"I will dignify the last battle as our
victory," Cailen said. "We have greatly improved our numbers
against the Argos. Now, go and give me an exact calculation of our
forces." With this, the five elves melted into the Darnoth ranks to
take a count.

Cailen returned to Randor. Facing all those
with her, she said, "Take a short rest here, but stay alert. Set a
patrol at the back of the battalion--we will not be ambushed." The
Darnoth army came to attention and saluted, with Cailen returning
the gesture. "Carry on."

Fifty of the Darnoth elves remained close by
their commander, creating a semicircle for her protection, and the
rest of the army spread out over an acre of ground, with a heavier
concentration at the back. Randor and his party stayed within
Cailen's encirclement and sat by the elf-captain's newly kindled
fire.

The three elves of the North sat close
together as usual, inspecting one another for injury. Luckily, none
of them had come to any real harm--not even Muron, after his first
true experience with battle. Though not injured, he clenched a hand
to his side and leaned forward in slight soreness. "My stomach
pains me like never before," he said softly. "Some of that lebe
would be lovely right about now."

"We haven't any," Arnanor replied. "And we
cannot risk sending anyone out in search of it, either."

"Do not worry, Master," Geil said, comforting
the young prince. "You can hear the river that is near us. We will
not go parched for much longer."

"Yet it is the sound that taunts me," Muron
said.

"The Darnoth are ready to press on," Cailen
said with assurance. "We will return to the area of our last
encounter with the Argos army. There is nothing for us here; we
must deliver the final blow to our enemy before they can regroup."
Cailen turned her focus away from Randor and addressed the officers
around her. "Be prepared for a vast search in the following days.
There are still caverns and tunnels we have not yet ventured
through."

"You haven't seen all of Eln-Radah?" Helfare
asked, finding the elf's comments strange.

"Eln-Radah is one of the greatest labyrinths
in Londor's entire belly," Cailen said. "There are many levels even
below this one, which stretches far. After a while, they all begin
to look alike." She shook her head, thinking back on being held
prisoner in this accursed place for the past eighty years. "Our
time has come now to be free of Eln-Radah. I have had my fill of
life within its impenetrable walls and eternal gloom. It is my duty
to the loyal soldiers of Darnoth to bring them into the clean air
of the open world above." Cailen looked to Randor. "I will get you
and your company out of here. Beldas must be recovered. I must help
you and your companions in bringing peace and balance to the world
once more. If setting you on the path toward Beldas is the last
thing I do, so be it."

Randor surveyed his companions and could feel
their weariness. Their trials in Eln-Radah had been overwhelming.
And yet he felt a sense of hope, as if something yet unknown to him
might aid his company and the Darnoth in this, the last battle of
the Dark War.

THIS ENDS BOOK I of The White Shadow Saga
trilogy

Epilogue

Ghelok's eyes flickered open. The castle
room spun around him like a tornado of gray stone. He slowly rolled
over, grimacing from the wizard's punishing magic, which still
burned like coals in his chest.

Dimly aware of a rhythmic clicking, he
focused on the sound and realized it was fast approaching
footsteps. With only seconds before the unknown threat should burst
in on him, Ghelok scanned the floor around him for his sword, only
to find it lodged deeply between the mortared stones of the
wall.

He tried to stand but fell back to the floor,
wheezing in pain as the footsteps in his ears grew louder and then
abruptly ceased. He was surrounded. Knowing he could do nothing in
his present state, Ghelok rolled onto his back and put his hands in
the air.

"Do your worst," he growled at the four
shadowy figures surrounding him. "Your fortunes would be none so
pleasant were we to meet under other circumstances."

"Master Ghelok . . . ," one of them said.

"Who speaks my name?"

"We are the Of-Adian, who rode out of
Valadure with you."

Ghelok laughed. "A happy turn of events. I
thought perhaps the monks or that accursed wizard had returned to
finish me off."

"The area is safe from threat, sir."

As two of the soldiers helped Ghelok to his
feet, another freed his sword from the wall. Ghelok clutched his
head and staggered over to retrieve the only worldly possession
that mattered to him. Twirling it twice, he nodded his gratitude
and sheathed it.

Leaning against the cold stones, Ghelok
pushed back his sweat-drenched hair away from his face. "Where are
our enemies?" he said.

"They fled south," replied the ranking
soldier, a sergeant.

"Why have you returned to my side without
them or their heads?"

"We could no longer follow them."

"Impossible!" Ghelok snapped. "You are the
finest riders in the land--how could they elude you?"

"We had Helfare and his rabble surrounded in
the foothills, but before we could apprehend them, the wizard used
his powers to open the side of the mountain, and they escaped
within."

"Then you should have followed them in."

"It was sealed shut," the sergeant explained.
"We did scour the base of the mountain, but their tracks ended at a
wall of solid stone."

"Lord Adian will be displeased," Ghelok said,
and the soldiers bowed their heads, knowing it was true. "We must
leave this place at once and overtake them."

Needing no further words of incitement, the
soldiers hastened back to the stairway from which Randor and the
others had fled the castle. Ghelok followed them down the stairs,
keeping a shoulder against the rough stones with every painful step
he took. The burning in his chest was starting to fade as he
stepped out into the night, where the four soldiers waited in the
dim torchlight, already mounted on their steeds.

With a swipe of his hand, Ghelok sent them
back to the search. In time he would join the pursuit, but there
was still one last item of business to attend.

As the men rode off, he noticed something
unusual on the ground. Picking up the small, dark lump, he saw that
it was a piece of charcoal--undoubtedly one of Lorn's, dropped from
his pouch during the escape. Ghelok brought the charcoal to his
face and drew four bold lines from below his left eye down his
cheek, copying the tattoo of the Of-Adian soldiers. Then, now
bearing the mark of what he considered the highest honor and
distinction on his pale face, he tucked the charcoal into his
jacket pocket and strode to his horse.

Scanning the dark woods for lurking enemies
or spies, he fumbled through one of the saddlebags and took out a
small rolled square of blue yarn, and a gold canister. He stepped
back from his horse, admiring the strange lettering engraved on the
canister, and rolled out the rug on the ground, placing the metal
container at the its edge.

The young warrior dreaded what must follow,
knowing this would be the hardest task of his long journey, but
prolonging the ritual would only weigh down his beleaguered spirit.
And so, breathing in a deep draught of the cold night air, he took
his place on the rug, kneeling before the canister.

Muttering a soft chant, Ghelok watched as the
top of the canister began to glow with a strange blue light. He
closed his eyes and sank into a trance as the chant continued to
flow from his mouth. The pain from Randor's magical blow left him,
replaced by a newfound comfort.

Speaking the last words of the chant, Ghelok
opened his eyes and was greeted by a burst of flames rising from
the canister. In the twisting blue tails of fire, an image began to
form, and Ghelok lowered his head in respect.

Within the fire sat a man on an elaborate
throne. "Who wishes to speak?" the flame-shrouded image asked.

"It is I, Ghelok, my lord."

"Have you captured the traitor?"

"We have Helfare within our reach and are
closing on him."

"You let him escape."

"Only momentarily, my lord. We will have him
soon enough and will return to Valadure."

"What marks your face?" the specter
asked.

Ghelok held his silence, and without warning,
a tail of the fire shot outward, striking him in the face and
flinging him onto his back, seized by an unbearable pain, as if
knives were flaying the skin from his face. And yet, he dare not
scream or raise his hands in defense, for the punishment would only
intensify.

"You will not place that sacred symbol upon
your face unless I order it," the figure said. "Do such a thing
again, and the consequences will be far graver."

Ghelok struggled back to his kneeling
position. The pain was gone from his face, and so, he knew, were
the charcoal lines.

"How did Helfare escape?"

"He was aided by an unknown host of nine, one
of them a wizard."

"Does this wizard have a name?"

"I did not hear it."

"From which order of wizards?"

"I could not tell," Ghelok confessed. "All I
can remember of him were his dark spectacles, blue hat, and blue
cloak."

"And the Banner of Aldrenos?"

"Of-Adians are on their way to you with the
banner. It will be in your grasp soon."

"I see you can provide at least one piece of
good tidings," the specter said. "Now, return to your search for
Helfare and this . . . this White Shadow."

"White Shadow, my lord?" Ghelok asked,
befuddled.

"My new enemy," the figure replied from the
flames. "This wizard and his secretive company."

"It shall be done, my lord."

"Fail me again, and you will suffer my
displeasure."

"You can rely on me, Lord Adian."

And no sooner had Ghelok uttered the words
than the flame faded away. Rising from the rug where he knelt, he
gathered it and the canister and stowed them in the saddlebag, then
swung up into the saddle. He would vanquish Helfare and his motley
company or die in the effort.

And with a snap of the reins, he galloped
into the darkness.