Worms' Ending: Book Eight (The Longsword Chronicles 8) (41 page)

BOOK: Worms' Ending: Book Eight (The Longsword Chronicles 8)
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42. First Dinner

 

When Gawain helped Elayeen from their apartments and walked
with her to the long table, he felt suddenly lighter, as though a great burden
had been lifted from him. The warmth in the hall was soporific, but in spite of
his tiredness, seemed to warm his very bones and give him strength and an
appetite for the steaming food set on the board before him.

After seating Elayeen, he looked at the guests he’d invited
to this first meal of his return to the hall. Allazar to the right,
disappointingly clean-shaven and hair cut short and tidy already. Ognorm to the
left, clean and with hair and beard trimmed but as unruly as ever. Tyrane, Wex,
Meeya, Valin, Corax, Martan of Tellek, Segrit and Rochard, Tam and Reef and
Maeve of the Guard. Arbo, of course, though he stood quietly and attentively to
the near side of the great stone hearth in which logs blazed. Gawain nodded to
them all, and took his place, and they sat.

Soup, hot and rich, steamed in their bowls, and Gawain
ripped a hunk of bread from a loaf which he passed to Elayeen before tasting
the soup, cautiously for its obvious temperature. Oxtail. He smiled, dunked his
bread into the bowl and the meal began thus in silence, and continued likewise
until the bowls were empty, and three tired travellers looking as though they’d
woken to a wondrous and fabled yonderlife.

“Well then,” Gawain announced quietly, once the bowls were
cleared away and hot plates heaped with slabs of roast beef and mounds of
vegetables set in their place. “For three of us here, our quest is ended. We
set out for answers, and found them. Our journey thereafter took us to Juria
and Hellin’s Hall, and I expect by now you will have learned something of the
events which took place there. From Juria, thence to Tarn, briefly, to fetch
the Sceptre of Raheen and bring it back here to Last Ridings, and the
Toorseneth nipping at our heels all the way.

“One place there is vacant at this board, and this you also
doubtless know. That place is Ranger Venderrian’s, who fell in battle, slain by
a witless worm of a man in Jurian garb who claimed his vile deed service and
duty to Hellin and to the now Steward of Juria, Insinnian, her consort. A full
account of our journey and our loss shall be given later, perhaps after the
homecoming feast I understand my lady has planned once we three of the ended
quest are well rested. But this dinner is more than just a welcome home for
those who left it. We’ve been very far from all news of any kind. So. Wex, news
of the Hall?”

“By our lady’s leave, sire. Defences have been strengthened
since you sent word from West Forkings of the crystal Grimmand on the day of your
departure. Patrols are increased in number and in range, news arriving much later
of beasts at large in the wild, and later those later still identified and named
Seekmaws as described in wizard Allazar’s book. Newsriders there are now too,
regular visits to and from the Forkings, and they ride as far as Dun Meven and
Harks Hearth in the west. Many have come who served at Far-gor, most of Arrun
and Mornland who’ve brought welcome skills and crafts with them, swelling our
numbers and helping to keep safe our shores and eastern approaches. Our
security has been well maintained, sire, and is served by all who dwell here.”

“Thank you,” Gawain nodded approvingly, and stabbed a roast
potato, holding it poised on the brink of destruction over the edge of his plate
while he glanced at his friend and former adjutant from Callodon. “Tyrane my
friend. My lady has told me you and all here have worked tirelessly on behalf
of my hall, and for that I thank you, and all at this board. What news of
Igorn? What news of Pellarn?”

Tyrane nodded graciously, took a sip of wine, and then spoke
quietly, but with the calm authority all had become accustomed to.

“M’lord, last news from Callodon concerning efforts in the Old Kingdom is become a little dated now, and for this we hold the weather accountable.
Birdmaster Harribek has lines of communication open now between here and the
Hearth, as well as Dun Meven in the west, and East Forkings and Sudshear in the
east. He recently conducted trials with Callodon Castletown direct, but the
service on that route is as yet unreliable.

“Igorn laid siege to Pellarn Castletown at the end of
September, and I believe all of us expected it to be short-lived. Reports
received indicated that the enemy force within the walls was small and
mercenary, and it was generally held that the people of Pellarn themselves
would make short work of their oppressors once they spied the Black and Gold and
its banners hoist without the walls. Alas.

“We know not what means the enemy force employed nor what
hold they had over the local population, but the siege lasted a great deal
longer than anticipated. Meanwhile, Igorn deployed his limited forces in all
directions, the better to liberate towns and villages in hope of acquiring
eager local reinforcements. It was, from what we’ve gleaned from news official
and otherwise, a protracted campaign, extending well beyond the date Igorn and
his Gorian allies anticipated. We received news that the siege had broken in
mid-December, the flag of Pellarn flying once more from the Keep within the
walls.”

“Oh huzzah…” Gawain sighed, and took a draught of hot spice
wine. “And since then?”

“Since then, m’lord, almost nothing have we heard. I believe
it was Igorn’s intention to hold Pellarn only as long as necessary to ensure
all enemies within its walls were despatched, and rule of law once more
established. He was then intending to secure the banks of the Eramak, and raise
once more the defences which were breached years ago during the invasion by mystic
forces from the Empire.”

“I had hoped for so much more,” Gawain sighed. “In my mind’s
eye I have seen the Black and Gold sweeping through the Old Kingdom and
restoring its liberty. It is, though, and in truth, a large land.”

“Aye, m’lord, and Callodon’s forces limited, and far from home.
Their supply lines are long indeed, and the weather inclement almost from the
start of their campaign.”

“And speaking of supplies, my friend, I saw the carriage-bow
in place outside the hall when we rode in along the east road. What then is
that up on the watchtower atop the Peak?”

“Ah. I sent word to the Curator of Dun Meven as soon as we
learned of the crystal-coated Grimmand, and asked that consideration be given
to sending us another carriage-bow from their stores. He did so, and gladly.
The one atop the watchtower has been modified by Urman, the fellow who does
much good work about the place?”

“I know him. One of Ranger Leeny’s lieutenants from
Fallowmead. Modified how?”

“Its wheels are removed, and the weapon mounted on a pivot,
and with pedals may be swung through all points of the compass, and rapidly.
Instruction has been given in its use, all watchkeepers are now able to operate
the weapon, and it certainly tracks swiftly enough for the bringing down of a
Graken or other speedy aerial target.”

“Good. The Toorseneth has been busy, and sent one of those
wing-lizards against us near the Hallencloister. We can, I am sure, expect
another in due course. Is there anything more?”

“Mundane matters, m’lord. Winter stores have been laid up as
you requested, lines of communication improved or established, and as Serre Wex
of the Guard has reported, security enhanced and new protocols for the scrutiny
of strangers arriving at the dock put in place. Much work has been done at the
quay, a way-station built and a shed for goods and travellers inbound until
their credentials and thus our safety is assured.”

Gawain was astonished, and impressed. Then he smiled. “Not
making visitors sing the Grimmand Song, are you?”

Chuckles and snorts around the table lightened the mood,
memories tickling of the song allegedly composed by a Mornland cook when the
Kindred Army was camped at Ferdan as an infallible test for one suspected of
being a Grimmand.

“I hadn’t thought to, m’lord, but now that you’ve mentioned
it, I’ll add it to the list of security protocols which must be satisfied
before strangers may enter from the quay.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“No, m’lord. I don’t doubt that mundane lists of supplies,
stores, and personnel can wait until you are well rested enough to be
interested in such matters.”

“Thank you, my friend. That you’ve remained in my hall and
worked so tirelessly on my behalf while Callodon strives in the west is a
service far greater than simple friendship demands, and is a debt which I can
never hope to repay.”

“I have been told by others who serve your hall that ‘bah’
is an appropriate response at such times, m’lord.”

Gawain smiled, and nodded with immense and obvious gratitude,
and turned his gaze to Martan of Tellek and the dwarves.

“Ain’t nought fer me to brag about, Serre, an’ nought ye
can’t see with yer own two orbs when you’ve a mind. Lower workin’s is all done
as you wanted, an’ you’ll be proud o’ the lads I ‘opes when you sees it. No
rush, though, Serre. Reckon you’ll have plenty more to occupy yerself with
afore you needs to see our ‘andiwork.”

“Serre Martan is exceeding modest,” Elayeen lilted.
“Progress on the roundtower has been extraordinary.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Gawain smiled. “I half expected to see
it looming over Crown Peak when we emerged from the forest. Thank you Martan.
I’ll join you and your good old boys at the Ending as soon as I can, and you
can give me a guided tour. Serre Valin?”

“MiThal. Of the nineteen rangers serving in Juria after
Far-gor, only three remain unaccounted for.”

“Does that include the eight who serve now in Tarn?”

“Eight, miThal?”

“Yes, so Lord Rak told me.”

“Then only two of the ninety-four remain unaccounted for,
miThal, since eight have also arrived here in answer to the recall. Ranger
Emeth was stationed north of Juria Castletown, and thus is likely now in
service in Threlland. The two whose whereabouts remain unknown are therefore most
likely Ranger Essendal, once of ‘Hethgard, and Ranger Freyan, once of Minyorn.
Both were thought to be patrolling in the region around Doosen and Bardin, and
perhaps even as far south as the Jarn Gap.”

“Ranger Foden patrolled that region too, did he not, before
he was called here to provide support when we left for Urgenenn’s Tower?”

“He did, miThal. He thinks it is possible they might have
answered a call that took them through the Jarn Gap and across the River
Ostern.”

“Into Pellarn?”

“So Ranger Foden hopes, miThal.”

Gawain nodded, and frowned. It was bad enough losing
Venderrian in battle. The prospect of two more rangers being unaccounted for
was alarming.

“There is as yet no cause for concern, miheth,” Elayeen
lilted softly.

“Still,” Gawain sighed, “The ranger’s lot is not an easy
one, as all of you at this table well know. I should like to devise some means
of knowing where all our rangers are. I do not like to think of rangers alone
with no recourse to support or reinforcements. Especially in Juria, and
especially close to the forest of southern Elvendere.”

From the look on everyone’s faces, Gawain realised that perhaps
he was hoping for far too much, but also from the looks he received, his
genuine concern for the elves in his command was warmly received and greatly
uplifting, and three at the table seemed to sit slightly taller, as if absolved
of some unspoken sin. It took a few moments for him to realise that perhaps
they felt tarnished by association for the destruction by elves of the
Hallencloister.

“I don’t suppose you’ve had time to look at the stones we
brought back for you to study, Corax?”

“I have, my lord, though only a cursory glance of course.
The gems have been cut from what appears to be vitreous rock of the same kind
used to construct the tower in the Eastbinding. I do not like to offer
opinions, my lord, and much prefer facts, but all my cursory tests so far
suggest the material is obsidian.”

“A kind of rock-crystal, Longsword,” Allazar announced
quietly.

Gawain nodded. “And rock-crystal we know well, both from the
Eastbinding and of late.”

“Indeed.”

“Have there been any events of mystic import since we’ve
been away, Corax?”

“Not since the loosing of the Seekmaws of Tansee, my lord.
They have been reported to the north of Mereton on Lake Arrunmere, and word
came from Ranger Reesen at Dun Meven that one had been sighted from the hills
in that region heading east. Before those reports began to arrive, there was
nothing since your warnings concerning the rock-crystal Grimmand in West Forkings.”

“Wizard Corax has worked ceaselessly, miheth,” Elayeen
announced. “He has assisted Birdmaster Harribek and helped speed the
development of swift communications, he daily patrols our borders with staff and
rod seeking out any hint of mystic incursion, and is attempting to compile a
register of wizards yet in service in friendly lands. This, in addition to all his
other duties.”

Gawain nodded. “The register is an excellent idea. I imagine
it will take time though before an accurate assessment can be made of numbers yet
in service?”

“Word arrives but slowly, my lord,” Corax agreed, his voice
low and sad. “Together with warnings spreading to the brethren since your
message arrived from the Hallencloister, I requested information be sent back
to us here. I have no doubt though that once the warnings have spread the
length and breadth of the lands, the brethren will be suspicious of my request
for such details as their location and rank. Her Majesty has suggested that a
ranger might be sent with the task of gathering such details, though it would
of course take some considerable time.”

“Nevertheless, my compliments, Serre wizard. I am sure Allazar
will have some additional thoughts to share with you on the matter when we’re
rested.”

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