down and in. . ”
A furlong or two from the in-between, just as Aravan came to the last of his story, they passed by Lian sentries to come into Wood’s-heart, the Elvenholt at the core of Darda Galion, where thatch-roofed white cottages nestled among the trees of the soaring Larkenwald.
Even as they dismounted before the central hall, they were met by the newly crowned Coron of all Elves on Mithgar: flaxen-haired Tuon of the ice-blue eyes. And from the dais in the great hall, Aravan spoke to a gathered assembly of the winning of the Black Fortress on Neddra by a battalion of Elves and seven nines of Magekind. He spoke of the occupation of the stronghold and the plans to guard and control the nexus to keep it out of Ruptish hands, for one of its in-betweens was now the only known crossing to the Mage world of Vadaria, and to lose that would be to lose much.
Aylis then told of the subsequent massive attempt to regain the fortress by nigh a full Horde of Spaunen two fortnights and a sevenday later, and the victory achieved by allies, by might and main and Magery, and by the use of illusory Dragons, their intangible flames augmented by the castings of Firemages. She added, however, that it was almost a certainty that the Spawn would have been repelled even without the phantasmal Drakes: not only did Arandor’s company of Lian and Dylvana hold the fortress upon the high ground, but the reserve ‹fire› of defending Magekind was and is considerable; along with this she mentioned that using the illusions of Dragons simply meant less overall expenditure of ‹life essence› by the defending Wizards.
“What of Trolls among the Foul Folk?” asked slender, black-haired Dara Irilyn. “Could they not shatter the gates, given a ram like the one known as Whelm?”
Aylis smiled. “Aye, they could, yet my father says if Trolls ever again come to knock at the door, they will be greeted by searing lightning that will stroke their hides and send any survivors screaming into the hills.”
After the laughter died down, another Dara rose to her feet and asked, “Were there Draedani among the foe?”
Aylis shook her head. “Nay, yet there are Mages among those at the fortress who might be powerful enough-though that is not at all a certainty-to banish a Gargon back to the Demon world. If that proves not to be feasible, the Healers among the allies can cast calmness upon our forces, enough so that the Elves at the ballistas could launch spears at the Fearcaster, just like the ballista-flung lance slew the Gargon at Dendor during the War of the Ban.”
“Even so,” said the Dara, “with many Draedani among the foe would they not pose a dreadful risk?”
“They would,” replied Aylis. “Yet my father says that it would require a very powerful Black Mage to summon each one from Grygar, and for a number of Dread Ones to be called, it would take many powerful dark Wizards. Modru, Durlok, mayhap Ordrune: they were powerful enough to do so. But they were in a class of their own; yet all three are now dead. Mayhap there is not a living Black Mage powerful enough to draw forth a Gargon from the Demon Plane, much less enough to summon several.”
A look of relief swept over the faces of many in the assembly, for they well knew the terror such monsters could bring.
A ginger-haired Alor asked, “Aravan, what are the plans for rotation of Lian and Dylvana in and out of the Black Fortress company? It cannot be pleasant living upon Neddra.”
“For the nonce, Theril, by choice that duty falls to our kindred on the High World; they cite the fact that it has been long since they were in battle against the Rupt, whereas the Dylvana and Lian on Mithgar have since engaged in two great wars-the Winter War against Modru, and the War of the Dragonstone against the Fists of Rakka and the Golden Horde of the so-called Dragonking-while they sat idle on Adonar. . through no fault of their own, I add, for in those times the Planes were yet sundered one from the other.”
At Aravan’s side, Tuon said, “Would that we of the Darda Galion ward had been in those battles, those of us who were here at the time. Yet we could not leave the Larkenwald undefended.” Tuon smiled and shook his head and added, “Though with the small company I had after Inarion and the others went unto the High Plane, we would have been hard-pressed to defend this realm against a force of any size.”
“Thou wert here in the Eldwood when Bair and I crossed to the Larkenwald from Adonar?” asked Aravan.
Tuon nodded. “Aye, though on patrol when the Dawn Rider and thee and the silverlarks came, though afterward Silverleaf told us of the event that he and the Dylvana had seen here in Wood’s-heart.”
When the questions had run their course, with Aravan and Aylis responding, Tuon called for a halt, for the mark of noon had come. Then Aylis and Aravan joined Tuon for a midday meal. As they retired to a bench under the spread of one of the giants, “Your weapon, Tuon,” said Aylis, gesturing at the dark spear Tuon set aside, “its aura bears strange ‹fire›.”
“ ’Tis named Black Galgor,” Tuon replied. “Some say it has a destiny to fulfill, though none knows what it might be.”
“What of the Well of Uajii?” asked Aravan.
Tuon shrugged. “Mayhap that was Black Galgor’s destiny, though Silverleaf claims it was his arrows brought down the wyrm, while Halid claims it was his great shamsheer did the creature in.”
“You must tell me this tale,” said Aylis, curiosity filling her gaze.
“Aye, that I will,” said Tuon. But then he shook his head, saying, “ ’Twill pale by comparison to the story of the Dawn Sword. Hai, would that I had seen that blade.” He glanced at Black Galgor and then at Aylis. “I ween its aura was filled to bursting with what you name ‹fire›.”
“Nay, not that sword,” said Aylis. “Though it was a token of power, it had no ‹fire› whatsoever.”
“But it slew Gyphon,” protested Tuon.
“Aye, it did,” agreed Aravan. “But Bair, too, saw no aura on it.”
“Nor did my father, Alamar,” said Aylis. “Nor did Dalor and Branwen, who were there as well. Father thinks mayhap
“Where now is that fabled blade?” asked Tuon.
Aravan shrugged. “ ’Tis gone forever, down into the Abyss along with Gyphon and Ydral and the Crystal Cavern and most of the Great Swirl and a monstrous gulp of the Sindhu Sea.”
Two days after, Aylis and Aravan rode out from Wood’s-heart and headed northward. They were bound for Drimmen-deeve, or as the Drimma called it, Kraggen-cor. They crossed the Cellener and late that eve came to the Quadrill, where they turned their mounts to follow along that watercourse. Two more days passed ere they emerged from the forest and came into sight of the Grimwall Mountains lying some four leagues to the west, the dark peaks heretofore shielded from view by the massive boles of the trees. The range ran beyond seeing to north and south; grim in its fastness it was, and said to be filled with the dens of Foul Folk. Yet those fetid holes lay not nigh the Eldwood, nor in the sweep of Drimmen-deeve, for neither Elves nor Dwarves abided Spawn to live in their immediate grasp. Southward the mountains ran toward the Great Escarpment, forking in twain: the main spine to turn westerly and head for far-off Gothon and Tugal and Basq to finally end in Vancha, the other to dwindle into the Gunarring, to arc about the land of Gunar and eventually rise once more to rejoin the main run of the range. Northward the peaks ran toward Gron and Jord, to turn easterly and flow all the way to Jinga and nearly reach the Shining Sea. But in the distance, mayhap three or so days away at the pace they were riding, they could see four peaks towering above the rest-’twas the Quadran, consisting of Greytower, Grimspire, Loftcrag, and Stormhelm, this last towering above all.
Below these four mighty mountains lay their goal-the Dwarvenholt of Drimmen-deeve-and Aravan and Aylis heeled their horses and rode onward, leaving Darda Galion behind.
14
JOURNEY TO THE EROEAN
LATE SPRING 6E1
