The Longsword Chronicles: Book 03 - Sight and Sound Read online

  She simply stepped forward, brushing past Gawain’s left arm, reached out with her right hand, and grasped the elfwizard’s upper lip between her finger and thumb, twisting it and pulling him forward. Keeve’s eyes widened in shock, pain, then fear, and finally horror as she pinned him with her gaze and spoke:

  “Deesennen, soolen-Viell: stent vegg! Tell them, we are coming and none shall bar our way!”

  The elfwizard uttered a slight whimper, his eyes frozen wide as tears began to stream, and then Eldengaze released him from the sight as well as from her cruel grip.

  “At once, Ela… Thalin-Raheen! At once!”

  The large group of elves, including their un-introduced officer, moved back a pace, as though a physical wave had washed over them from Eldengaze at the centre of the tableau. Keeve of the soolen-Viell wiped the tears from eyes on his sleeve, staggered back a short distance from the foreigners on the dockside, and then closed his eyes, trying to gather his wits. Gawain and the others watched as the elfwizard rubbed his hands together as if he were shaping a snowball, and slowly, a brilliant ball of light began to grow. After a few more seconds of kneading and shaping, Keeve held the ball of white fire above his head, and released it. It flashed north along the canal and had passed from view in the blink of an eye.

  “I have told them, Thalin-Raheen,” Keeve stammered, “And passed the request for carriages and the Threnderrin Way.”

  Elayeen said nothing, and swung her head slowly around to gaze at the elves mustered near the dockside. None of them would look her in the eye. If word of what had transpired to their comrade above the wheel hadn’t been enough to make them wary of eye contact with the daughter of Thal-Hak now Queen of Raheen, her total subjugation of the soolen-Viell certainly had. Gawain seriously doubted that any elf had ever seen a wizard harmed in Elvendere for a very long time. Except for those very few who had witnessed the destruction of one at the Circle of Faranthroth, ripped open by Gawain himself.

  “I suggest, wizard,” Gawain broke the stunned silence, “That you gather some of the Sutengard and commence your instruction in the use of the barges. We have endured enough delay.”

  This time, the elfwizard bowed, and hurried to detail a handful of the guard for barge duty.

  “Did you see that, Master Allazar? A Dove of Orris without a staff!” Arramin hissed, astonished.

  “I did, Master Arramin, and it seems to be able to transmit much more content than any dove Orris himself ever created.”

  “How is this possible? Never in all my readings have I encountered such a thing!”

  “Nor I,” Allazar exchanged a worried look with Arramin and Gawain.

  “What does it mean, my lords?” Tyrane whispered.

  “It means, Captain,” Allazar explained softly, “That the wizards of Elvendere possess mystic knowledge unknown to the D’ith Sek. And that is a surprise.”

  “We can discuss such things later,” Gawain muttered, eyeing the large detachment of Sutengard, their horses, and pack animals. “Let’s get moving as quickly as we can. We’ll lead out of the lock, Arramin.”

  “The wheel is cooling, my lord, and by the time I have instructed the elves in the use of the barge controls, I will have safely shut it down. There is no reason for you to wait in the pool, my lord, you could lock through now if you wish?”

  Gawain nodded. “We’ll relieve the Sutengard of some of their supplies first. Since they’re not travelling to the city in the south, they won’t need so much, and ours are sorely depleted. Rollaf, Terryn, thank you for your work today, I’d be glad if you’ll help with the supplies, I doubt we need fear any trouble from our elven friends now.”

  “Aye, milord.”

  “Ellas!” Gawain called, and a nervous elfguard advanced across the dockside, trying to keep his eyes averted from Elayeen’s gaze.

  “My lord?”

  “Come, introduce me to your officer.”

  “My lord.”

  Twenty minutes later, the royal barge locked through into the canal, and moored against the western bank some fifty yards beyond the north gate. Gawain stood on the tow-path, looking southeast and watching elves clumsily attempting to pole a barge to the dockside, while Gwyn and the horses scrambled up onto the bank behind him, calling helloes to the herd on the far side of the mooring pool.

  “Here, my lord, you’ll likely enjoy this a little more than what’s left of your Threlland frak.”

  Tyrane handed Gawain a rather hefty slab of something brown wrapped in what appeared to be a translucent parchment.

  “Thank you. What is it, food or building material?”

  “The wizard Allazar calls it ‘freenmek,’ or at least that’s what he says was written on the box. According to him, it’s a cold-pressed ration, very nutritious, wrapped in what he calls starch-paper. Seems it’s all edible.”

  “Have you tried it?”

  “I have indeed, my lord,” and Tyrane produced his own half-eaten bar.

  “What does it taste like?”

  “Chicken.”

  “Seriously?”

  Tyrane shrugged, and took another bite. Gawain studied the food, and then out of consideration for his dwindling supply of frak, took a hefty bite.

  “Nyefft,” he mumbled, chewing, “Mtt dufft teft myf mikkn.”

  “Told you. What do you make of this lot, my lord? I got the distinct impression our escort was more of a prison guard than an honour guard.”

  Gawain swallowed. “I did too, until my lady rather crushed any notion they might have had of our being subject to a whitebeard’s authority. We have no way of knowing what’s waiting for us at Ostinath. It’s why I wanted us at the head of the column on the canal, not sandwiched between two barge-loads of Sutengard. Whatever else they may be, they are well-armed, and with the bow, unmatched.”

  “How are you enjoying the freenmek, Longsword?” Allazar enquired, approaching from the barge to stand behind the two men.

  Gawain shrugged. “I think I prefer frak. But if you’re about to tell me it’s some kind of elven emergency ration made from crushed worms and sheep’s eyeballs, don’t. We’re content with it tasting like chicken. Don’t make us kill you by telling us anything else about it other than its name.”

  “Ah.”

  “Indeed,” Gawain smiled to himself, and then became serious, swallowing another bite and nodding to the elves at the side of the mooring pool. “We were discussing our status according to our friends from Ostinath. Both Tyrane and myself concluded they were thinking of us more as prisoners than invited guests.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go so far, though the soolen-Viell was arrogant, I admit. But he’s young, and this was probably his first serious mission. Indeed, before the attack on the western provinces, he was probably a simple student.”

  “A simple student who can make one of those dove messenger things by rubbing his hands together.”

  “Ah. Well, that is a matter of some concern. And also some hope. If the order of the Viell have developed tools beyond the knowledge of the D’ith Hallencloister, they may be most valuable in the battle brewing in the west as well as in the north.”

  “Except that any of these tools, as you describe them, will already be well-known to Morloch. His minions and allies dwelt here too, don’t forget.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yet,” Tyrane said quietly, “If word of our arrival has reached the Council at Shiyanath, this new form of communication they possess may be to our great advantage.”

  “True, Captain,” Allazar enthused, cracking a lump from a honey-bar. “It would also be useful in expediting the deployment of reinforcements, or directing forces precisely where needed in the event of an attack.”

  “Much good it’s done them, if the reports Ellas gave you were accurate.”

  “Your tankard seems half empty today, Longsword, rather than half-full. Has something happened about which we are unaware?”

  “Morloch has happened. Morloch always happens. He’s had his plans in plac
e for a very long time. The attacks in the west were always going to happen, we just forced his arm into attacking early, by our actions at Ferdan as well as in the south. And from what you’ve already told us about beasts such as the Kiromok, Kraal and Grimmand, the only real chance against such dark-made creatures is a wizard’s white fire. And that needs a wizard of power. How many of those do we have left on our side?”

  “We will not know the answer to that question until we reach Shiyanath, I fear. Although, Ostinath is large and clearly possesses rapid communication, so it may be that we learn much more of events in the north there, too. We have six more days, Longsword. Six more days upon the great water road and then I hope many of our questions will be answered.”

  “Assuming we make it that far as free people,” Gawain grumbled.

  “Assuming?”

  “The next snowball of lightning that comes fizzing down the canal to that elf whitebeard might contain orders to put us in chains for the remainder of the journey north.”

  “Snowball of lightning? You’re tired, Longsword, you and the Captain both. I fear weariness is clouding your judgement, and not surprising. You should both retire. Matters here are progressing well enough I think.”

  “Perhaps I shall, when the barge is on the chains again.”

  “It looks as though Master Arramin is explaining the lock controls to our reluctant escort. I’d say it won’t be long before the first of them passes through into the canal.”

  “And they’re leading the horses around the back of the pond to the western side. They obviously don’t want to introduce the animals to the vessels just yet.”

  “Probably saw us bringing ours ashore for exercise and grass, m’lord.”

  One of the elves began cranking a lock wheel, opening the pool’s inner gate. The pool itself wasn’t more than a foot higher than the level of the canal, but Gawain supposed the lock was a precaution against flooding should the aqueduct or mechanisms controlling the Wheel of Thal-Marrahan fail.

  “Looks like the majority of them are aboard the lead vessel. I assume most if not all the horses will occupy the rear barge.”

  “Elves are not natural horsemen, Longsword, though they respect nature greatly and the animals would never deliberately be harmed.”

  Gawain swivelled on his hips to look over his shoulder at the wizard. “I was thinking tactically, Allazar, not compassionately out of concern for the horses. It would make more sense to split their forces evenly between the two vessels, or indeed to strengthen the rearguard.”

  “We are in Elvendere,” Allazar reminded the young king, gently.

  “Which is under attack by Morloch’s spawn, you whitebeard clot, hence the force of Sutengard yonder,” Gawain reminded the wizard, not so gently. “Just because the Southguard of Elvendere haven’t seen any Kiromok about the place doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Now if you’ll excuse me I should like a word with my lady.”

  “Kiromok?” Tyrane gasped, staring into the forest around them, “Did you hear something, my lord?”

  “No. But that doesn’t mean we won’t, either.”

  And leaving a worried looking officer of Callodon and an equally disturbed wizard peering intently at the shadows between the trees, Gawain strode down the tow-path to where Elayeen stood alone gazing north, Kahla and Jaxon talking quietly with each other nearby.

  “I would speak with you, Eldengaze,” Gawain announced, and Elayeen turned slowly, her eyes lowered towards his chest. But she didn’t speak.

  “If I ever needed any more proof that you are not my bounden heart, your treatment of that Sutengard and the elf whitebeard was it.”

  “You know nothing of elfkind nor the discipline demanded by the crown,” Eldengaze rasped, and her gaze moved up, just a little, a threat that was not lost on Gawain. “Do not interfere. I am Elayeen Rhiannon Seraneth ní Varan, Thalin-Raheen, daughter of Thal-Hak, daughter of Thalin-Reeyan. I am The Sight. None shall bar the way.”

  “It’s true I know very little of elfkind, and I certainly know nothing of the discipline demanded by a crown of Elvendere, faranthroth or otherwise. And while I seldom have any objection to a whitebeard being slapped back into his place, I know my love. She was mithroth. There was no such cruelty in her as you have displayed this day.”

  “Then you know far less than you believe. I am The Sight. Touch me not, nor block my vision of your surrounds with your light!”

  “We have an understanding on that account, Eldengaze,” Gawain sighed. “But I did not come to speak with you simply to block your vision or berate you for your treatment of whitebeards. I came to ask you to be careful. The Sutengard fear you, the southwest of your homeland has been attacked by the darkness, and our position and status in this land is far from clear. It’s true we may need the sight of the Eldenelves between here and Shiyanath. But I’ll remind you again of the understanding we reached at the baths of the city in the south. You will take rest, you will eat, and drink, and you will guard my lady’s health as you would guard mine. You do remember that?”

  “I do.”

  “Then once we continue our journey along the canal, I want you either within the deckhouse or shielded by it. The Sutengard will be to our rear, I want steel between you and them at all times.”

  “Elf does not kill elf.”

  “They don’t have to kill you to rob us of your sight, and they have a whitebeard in their number. If you wish to look to the rear, you may do so via the portholes in the aft deckhouse. I don’t want you standing up on the walkway or sitting on the roof as you have most of the way here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “How are you fingers?”

  “Healing. Slowly.”

  “I’m glad. Though I’m hoping we won’t need your bow for some considerable time to come.”

  A dull booming sound followed by the scrape of metal on metal drew Gawain’s attention to the north, and the barge clumsily emerging from the lock there. Elves leaned over the gunwales, pushing the vessel away from the gate-post with which it had collided. Gawain sighed, and a wave of tiredness washed over him. His eyes were beginning to sting in the brightness of the day, noon not long past and the sun in its southerly track reflecting harshly off the water in the pool and the canal.

  “When Arramin starts the chains we’ll board the barge and be on our way. I want at least a chain or two’s lead on the first of the Sutengard vessels. Is there anything you need?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well. If there’s nothing of concern within range of your sight, I’d like you aboard and in the shelter of the deckhouse. You are too exposed here. We all are.”

  Elayeen simply turned her gaze towards Kahla and Jaxon, and took her left hand with its broken fingers off her bow long enough to beckon the Gorian lady, who immediately and nimbly jumped ashore. Gawain watched as they boarded the vessel, and then signalled Rollaf.

  “Milord?”

  “Arramin is crossing the lock to show the elves the chain lever. Once the chains are started, we’re leaving. I think it might be a good idea if you and Terryn took the horses north a mile, give them a run out and some exercise. It’s a long way to Ostinath still.”

  “Aye, milord. You think it’s safe, milord? You’ll be two ‘bows short, us being out of range.”

  “There’s thirty of them and a whitebeard to boot. I suspect two more ‘bows on our side won’t make much difference. Besides, judging by the noise they’re making, they’re more concerned with staying afloat and not falling into the canal than planning a surprise attack on us.”

  “Aye, milord,” Rollaf gave a relaxed salute and was about to turn away when Gawain added:

  “No more than a mile, Rollaf, stay within my lady’s sight. This may be Elvendere, but it’s far from safe.”

  “Aye, milord. Never thought it was,” Rollaf smiled, and jogged away, signalling Terryn standing in the trees.

  Gawain gave a low
whistle, attracting Gwyn’s attention, and pointed south. “Go on, Ugly, stretch your legs,” he said softly. The Raheen charger’s ears twitched, she bobbed her head, and promptly set off behind the two scouts jogging down the tow-path. The other horses, accustomed now to following Gwyn, set off behind her.

  To the south, the first barge was banging against the tow-path, and Arramin had opened the hut controlling the chains in the canal. A small group of elves watched and listened intently, and then Gawain saw one of the elves heave back. There was a slight tremor, and ripples appeared in the water of the canal.

  “Let’s go,” he announced, “The sooner we’re in Ostinath, the better.”

  “And Arramin, my lord?”

  “He can ride aboard the last vessel, if they ever get it through the lock, and come aboard when we stop for comfort or to bring the horses aboard. I want a lead over them, for safety if nothing else. The last thing we need after enduring so much is to come off the chains and have them slam into our rear.”

  “Stern, Longsword,” Allazar corrected gently, pulling up the aft mooring stake and chain.

  “When the occasion demands it,” Gawain glowered.

  “Ah.”

  When the barge was on the chain and trundling along once more, Gawain and Tyrane retired to the rear deckhouse and sat wearily on the benches. Stores ‘liberated’ from the elves, as Tyrane described them, were stacked neatly under the benches at both ends of the vessel, and with their saddles heaped in the middle of the cabin, there was little spare room.

  After travelling four or five chains, Tyrane stood and peered at the scene retreating slowly behind them, and Gawain dragged himself up to do likewise. They knew that the chances of ever seeing the Wheels of Thal-Marrahan again were very slim.

  “Looks like the first of them is on the chain now,” Tyrane remarked. “And their wizard, standing at the prow with his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robes. He looks like a figurehead on a Gorian raider.”

  “Aye. At least they’re a safe distance behind us.”

  “Do you truly believe them a threat?”

  Gawain shrugged. “In truth, I don’t know. And it’s the not knowing that makes them a threat in my eyes. Certainly they’ve never had much cause to regard me very highly. Morloch’s minions did his work well over the centuries, driving a wedge between elfkind and everyone else. Then along comes me, and steals away their king’s daughter. With the best of intentions, I violated not just their traditions, but trespassed where none except elves are permitted. Slaughtered a whitebeard there, and hacked through what for all I know might have been their most sacred grove to bring Elayeen out.” Gawain yawned, and shook his head. “I don’t know, Tyrane. Ever since we set foot on that broad avenue in the forest north of Jarn, I have felt distinctly unwelcome.”