Silevethiel (12 page)

IREWEN GINGERLY EMERGED FROM THE CAVE, squinting at the afternoon sunlight reflecting off the snow. It was the first time she had ventured from the familiar surroundings of the cave. She was completely taken aback by the elegance and artistry of the snow-covered woodlands and suddenly realized how much she’d missed experiencing the wondrous beauty of nature. In Dargon, she would often walk through the castle gardens, finding it to be the only place she felt truly at peace. Sadness filled her heart at the realization that she might never again be able to retreat to the one place she truly adored.

A bright red and orange bird swooped down before her. Landing on the tip of an evergreen branch, it caused a mist of fine snow to drift to the ground like a sparkling curtain of jewels.
Still, there is peace and beauty to be found everywhere in this world. One only needs to take the time to look.

Laegon looked up from checking his pack. “Ah! The two maidens have arrived! Brégen tells me some congratulations are in order.”

Irewen grinned, unable to contain her elation. “Yes! Silevethiel is my Guardian! You were right! She left before because she felt it was not the appropriate time. As much as I hate to admit it, she was correct. At the time, I would not have accepted for the right reasons.”

“You will find that Guardians, especially Silevethiel, are generally right,” Laegon replied, his eyes twinkling. “And the sooner you acknowledge it, the better. Just like a child who refuses to accept the fact that his parents are far wiser than him, it is a lesson that sometimes takes a Protector a little too long to learn.”

«I see you are still working on that lesson,»
Brégen chided.

«And you are still learning when to hold your tongue.»

«On the contrary, my good Protector, I see no fault with my communication skills.»

«Perhaps you should reconsider that statement.»

Brégen ignored the prince, instead turning casually to lead the way to the horses waiting forlornly under the protection of a large fir tree. Silwen pricked her ears, nickering happily at the sight of Laegon.

“Kularen, Silwen,” Laegon smiled as he patted the mare’s head in greeting. “Na é lérn en va ün.”

«For reasons I cannot fathom, she has missed you.»

“She has never been this happy to see me,” the prince observed, eying Brégen suspiciously. “What have you been doing to her?”

Brégen snorted.
«That beast has been a right menace.»

“I see. And I suppose you are completely innocent.”

«Although you may disagree, I am always innocent. I was a model of kindness and generosity for the duration of our journey from Silverden. Her displeasure at having to travel with such speed is beyond my control. Perhaps you should have chosen a horse with more stamina.»

“Silwen is one of Mistwood’s finest warhorses, second only to my father’s!”

«That may be, but she became quite contentious when I ate the last apple tart.»

“It is as I suspected. You are as innocent as a child caught with his hand in a jar of sweets.”

Silwen snorted, nodding her head in agreement as she looked at the lion with scathing mockery.

“All right, you two,” Laegon scolded. “That is enough. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I will not tolerate the two of you acting like a couple of three-year-olds. I am not your babysitter. Now, let us concentrate on treating one another with more respect.”

“As I see it,” Irewen said thoughtfully after Silevethiel relayed to her Brégen’s end of the conversation, “there is quite a simple solution to the problem.”

“Oh?” Laegon asked. “And what might that be?”

“In future, be sure to pack a sufficient quantity of apple tarts.”

Laegon’s hearty laughter floated through the air.

«I like her!»
Brégen exclaimed
«Unlike yours, her suggestions are actually practical!»

“Perhaps we can implement a compromise,” Laegon suggested merrily. “I will pack more tarts if the two of you promise not to steal from one another’s rations.”

Silwen eyed the Guardian suspiciously, waiting until Brégen finally nodded in agreement.
«Fair enough, I suppose,»
he replied begrudgingly.

“Very good!” Laegon exclaimed with a grin. He was pleased that, at least for the time being, peace had been restored. “Now, we must get moving. We cannot delay any longer.”

He directed his attention to Irewen. “We must set as fast a pace as possible. I do not want to be anywhere near the vicinity of this cave when the Drulaack arrive. Though they cannot track you the same as Elthad, due to the marks in the snow, they will be able to follow our progress just as easily. We are now in a race. We cannot risk battling them in the open. We must make it to the safety of Silverden before they close whatever gap now separates us.”

“I understand,” Irewen responded. Neither of them had slept for over twenty-four hours. Though the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on her, it seemed to not have the slightest effect on the elf.

“Do you think you can ride on your own?”

She shook her head. “Not at the pace and duration required.”

“Then you will ride with me,” Laegon answered immediately, waving his hand to stop her protest. “There will be no argument. Silwen is more than capable of carrying the both of us. Brégen will lead Nythrandiel until you are able to ride on your own.”

She acquiesced, knowing there really was no other option. Laegon secured Nythrandiel’s lead to Brégen before helping her onto Silwen’s back.

As if performing a well-rehearsed routine, Silevethiel and Brégen immediately shot to the northwest, Nythrandiel closely following the large golden lion.

“Naralé, Silwen!” Laegon shouted as he kicked the mare’s sides. She obediently lurched forward, galloping after the retreating Guardians.

Irewen closed her eyes against the biting wind.
Give me strength,
she pleaded. Concentrating on the warmth of Laegon’s chest pressed tightly against her back, she willed herself to push away her exhaustion.
Please. Do not let me fail.

Irewen sighed with relief as she sipped the broth Laegon had warmed for her over the fire. They had traveled at a full gallop for longer than she cared to remember. Darkness had already descended upon the land when they finally stopped to allow everyone, especially Silwen, some time to rest. Irewen had been worried for the mare, yet Laegon’s words proved true. The horse had moved as though she was carrying the added weight of a mere feather. Silwen had galloped through the deep snow with surprising lightness, angling between the trees with extraordinary grace and precision.

“We have made good time,” Laegon said, handing her a piece of crújend. “You did well. We should be able to travel three or four more hours before we are forced to make camp for the night.”

“I am not the one who deserves to be congratulated,” she replied quietly, unable to mask her displeasure at Laegon’s decision to continue into the night. The thought of riding for one more minute, let alone one hour, was more than she could bear. “Our progress was no doing of mine. Without Silwen’s exceptional speed and stamina, the Drulaack would have already caught us by now.”

“You did what was required of you,” Laegon insisted. “You fought your exhaustion and moved in tune with Silwen’s movements, as well as mine. Without that, our progress would have been greatly hindered. All six of us are a team, Irewen. No one is more important than the other. Each one of our contributions, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem, is absolutely vital to our success. Never belittle your influence over this fellowship. For the moment you do, we will fail.”

Silevethiel came to sit next to the princess, her white fur blending in perfectly against the snow.
«Laegon is right, Protector. Though you may think otherwise, your accomplishment today was greater than that of all the rest of us combined, the horses included. We are all veterans. We are trained to undergo such strenuous demands. We do things of this nature on a regular basis. It is expected of us. To perform any differently would have been a disgrace to you, to us, and to the elven people.

«You, however, have never come close to experiencing such a rigorous journey. I know that at the moment, your sore muscles are attesting to that fact. Despite your pain and fatigue, you pushed your inexperience aside and did what was required to ensure the rest of us were able to perform the way we needed.

«The future of this world is teetering upon the edge of a knife, Irewen. By accepting this task, you are the one with the power to sway the balance one way or the other. Each decision you make has the power to hurl these lands towards freedom or plunge them into the darkness. Nothing you say or do should ever be taken lightly, least of all by you. We are all here to help you. Without support, you will fail. But in the end, the true success of this mission lies with you. You must have conviction. You must have hope. You must have confidence. Above all, you must have the belief that what you are doing is right.»

“Thank you,” Irewen said quietly, as much to Laegon as to Silevethiel. “You are right.” Smiling, she looked from one to the other. “Both of you.”

THE SMALL COMPANY RODE FOR A LITTLE OVER TWO hours until Laegon’s exhaustion finally consumed him. His senses were waning, his reactions slowing, and his reasoning almost nonexistent. Irewen had succumbed to her fatigue long before. Her body bobbed heavily against his chest, and he struggled to keep both of them upright.

Sensing his difficulty, Silwen automatically slowed to a trot. Grateful the mare was so attuned to his needs, Laegon immediately matched the steed’s pace. He was about to call the two Guardians to a halt, when Brégen’s voice suddenly boomed through his mind.

«Laegon, I have received word from Drell. There has
been a...
situation.»

The haze suddenly vanished from Laegon’s mind.
«What has happened?»

«They have arrived at the Millérn tower. The scene is quite dire, indeed.»

Laegon’s patience was wearing thin. Obviously reluctant to share the news, the Guardian made no move to continue with his explanation.
«Well?»
the elf pressed.
«What did they discover? Were they able to assist Perendin in warning the sentries?»

«No, Laegon,»
Brégen answered slowly, his voice heavily laden with sorrow and misery.
«I am afraid all three of them arrived too late to be of any assistance to those already stationed at the Millérn tower.»

Laegon’s stomach turned when the meaning of Brégen’s words finally registered in his mind. There had been sixteen of Mistwood’s finest archers stationed at the tower. All of them were dead

He brought Silwen to a halt. Placing his hand over his heart, he lowered his head in respect for his lost kin. “Neryn la pün, mi frélánen,” Laegon whispered. A tear ran down his cheek, its warmth immediately dissipating into the frigid winter air the moment it touched his skin.

«Tell me what happened.»

«Perendin was the first to arrive at the site. He immediately sensed something was amiss. An eerie silence had descended upon the land. The air was uncannily still, like the quiet before a storm. A dark shadow loomed in his mind.

«He dismounted and hid his horse amidst a dense cluster of trees before slowly making his way closer to the tower, careful not to make even the slightest sound. Being sure to remain safely out of sight, Perendin carefully studied the watchtower. He knew something was wrong, but he could not figure out what it was. Then suddenly it hit him. The flag billowing in the crisp winter breeze was not that of the elves of Mistwood. Instead of a dark shade of evergreen bearing a silver crown of fir branches encircling a sparkling white dove, the flag Perendin saw was pure black.»

«What was the insignia?»
Laegon asked, not certain he actually wanted to know.

Brégen waited a few moments before continuing, his deep voice barely above a whisper.
«The bright crimson emblem was of a human heart, dripping blood, and pierced by a golden dagger.»

Bile rose in the prince’s throat. “I suppose we now know why King Donríel’s heart was ripped from his chest,” he whispered. Feeling Irewen move, he instantly regretted his decision to speak aloud. Laegon held his breath as she groaned, snuggling closer against his chest before once again falling still. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was just stirring in her sleep.

«Aye,»
Brégen and answered quietly.
«Silevethiel suggests you do not share this detail with Irewen, at least for the time being. And I agree. In spite of her toughness, her father’s death still weighs heavily on her heart. This is not the time to reopen any areas of the wound which may have already begun to heal.»

«I agree. It solves the mystery of the manner of the king’s death, but in reference to our quest, it is a rather unimportant detail. I do not intend to force it upon her. She will learn of it when the time is right.»

Brégen nodded his head solemnly.

«What is the current state of the tower, and of our three friends?»

«As you would expect, Perendin waited until Halthed and Drell arrived. They too sensed something was amiss and joined the Culthen at his place of hiding. Afraid to use their Sight, lest they would draw unwanted attention to themselves, they waited, observing the tower for any signs of movement. After nearly five hours of seeing hardly any activity, they agreed Millérn was not heavily manned.

«Deciding it would be best to act before any of the Drulaack’s reinforcements arrived, they separated, each attacking from a different direction. Luckily their suspicions proved true. Only five of the enemy remained at the tower. Our friends had the advantage of surprise, but the Drulaack quickly recovered. The fight lingered on, with neither side finding an advantage of the other, until Drell honed in on the Drulaack’s leader. Once he fell, the battle swiftly took a turn to our friends’ favor. The four remaining enemy were quickly killed.

«Perendin suffered several injuries, though none of them were considerable or life threatening. Halthed treated him and he is doing well. For now, we have regained control of the watchtower and can only hope our reinforcements arrive before the enemy’s.

«The good news, if you can call it that, is that the bodies of our men, along with those of the enemy our archers managed to kill, had been dead for almost a week. The Drulaack who took control of Millérn were of the first group sent by Elthad. As far as the others can tell, the second party of Drulaack has yet to cross our borders. We have a significant lead.»

Laegon breathed a sigh of relief.
«That is indeed good to hear. In light of everything that has happened, it is news I will gladly take. We will stop for the night, but I still wish to continue at this pace for the remainder of the journey. None of us can afford to become too comfortable with whatever small advantage we might currently have, for it can be stolen away from us in the blink of an eye.»

«Agreed.»
Brégen replied, watching Laegon intently as the elf dismounted.

The prince carefully lowered Irewen from Silwen’s back. Holding her close to him, he carried her to a small patch of ground beneath a large tree that had somehow miraculously remained free of snow. He laid her on the frozen earth and quickly covered her with both their blankets, as well as his cloak.

Snoring softly, the princess remained lost in her dreams as Silevethiel snuggled next to her, allowing the warmth of her soft fur to drive away the winter chill.

«I suppose I will have to do the same for you,»
Brégen observed while Laegon tended to the horses, making sure they were well fed and watered.

«If you want me to live through the night,»
the elf replied weakly,
«then yes. Even if we could risk lighting a fire, I would not have the energy to start one.»

«Lay next to Irewen, Protector,»
Brégen ordered gently, waiting for the prince to do as he was told.

Settling next to the princess, Laegon sighed with pleasure. The Guardian pressed his body against his and warmth slowly returned to his bones.
«Thank you,»
he murmured.

«You know I would do anything for you, Laegon,»
Brégen responded, feeling the elf bury his hands in his fur.
«Even if it means transforming into a living blanket.»

Despite his exhaustion, a weak smile spread across Laegon’s lips.
«And I you.»

Brégen purred appreciatively, feeling the elf drift to sleep.
«Goodnight, my friend. Sleep well.»