Chapter 11

When Talen awoke the morning next he found that Raavan already had left the Old Anchor to have a few final words with the King before their departure. After another meal of fish and tea they were ready to depart. When the wizard returned to the inn they prepared to saddle up and leave Aglathrad behind. Raavan informed them that Eboenninar had agreed to send word to the Dwarves of Ihm-ennar with Raavan’s message concerning the rise of Silgoth and the necessity of preparing for war. Eboenninar promised also to send delegates to the council of Valassea; though he himself would gladly attend he voiced his doubt that he would be able to make the trip.
      And so without further delay they rode out of the great capital city of Arnedia and took the western road toward Arrownock. Through another series of villages, hamlets, towns and farmsteads they passed as ever easterly the road wound. When noon arrived they stopped to stretch their legs and slake their thirst, for their armour did little to protect them from the heat of late midsummer.
      Soon they were back in the saddle again and were making very good time at it, for their steeds were well rested and were feeling their oats. As they rode on through the afternoon they saw the number of human habitations drop off considerably so that as nightfall approached they noted that settlements of any sort had become very rare indeed.
      As the night drew its dark mantle about them they made camp alongside the now dwindling dirt road. They did not bother with a fire, for it did not look to be a cold night coming on and all were content to partake of the cold foodstuffs which they had brought. Lying on their bedrolls they watched the stars wheeling above them as Alatar pointed out the forms of Yava the Hunter, Ulal the Great Bear, and the Sceptre of Ooir, the sky king.
      In the morning they broke their fast and mounted up once more heading east as before. Now they began to see far to the south the outline of a great forest come marching steadily into view as they approached its margin obliquely from the west. This was Arvalla, the Great Forest, of which even the Elflings of Laurelindor had heard, for it was the largest wood in all of Entira and was reputed to be quite enchanted. Far larger than Druadaneth it was, stretching nearly six hundred miles at its widest. And far fairer too: for, as was well known throughout the lands, Elves dwelt in Arvalla, as did a great many other things of variously magical and mysterious natures. That wonders lay ahead none doubted, for through this ancient and untamed forest lay the most direct path to the city of Pencairn, their current goal.
      By late morning the party were riding alongside the forest’s edge, the dirt road now no more than a wide trail: a sign that though this was the shortest route to Pencairn it was not the most heavily travelled. On they rode all that hot day, yet the forest marched on ahead of them with greater will than they, for while the company welcomed the coming of night as a chance to rest weary riding limbs the endless forest leapt on tirelessly ahead to disappear into the night.
      That evening the party enjoyed the rare company of Airi, who rather than indulging in his usual nocturnal exploits stayed close by and remained highly alert as to their ears came the hoots of strange owls from the woods nearby. Though he did not himself hoot back to his distant brethren, periodically he gave a low who-who-who-who in a quiet voice. At the edge of camp his head whirled this way and that in response to even the most imperceptible disturbance in the near silence.
      ‘I see the Hunter, Yava,’ said Dannadar as he lay back to once again watch the heavenly bodies above. ‘But where is Ulal the Bear?’
      ‘He has gone to sleep,’ answered Alatar as he scanned the night sky. And so did they all.
       
       
      It was nearly midmorning when finally they entered Arvalla. Earlier the great forest had begun to turn abruptly toward the north-east, and as the remnants of the road which they followed did the same so too did the travellers. But after several hours they had come to a deep notch cutting into the forest’s edge and here they turned again east, for now they had come to the place which is called Arrownock, where in years past a road had led through the vast forest expanse to connect the distant kingdoms of Arnedia and Pilinon. In the very corner of the notch they found the remnants of this road, now overgrown with bushes and saplings and with even a largish tree popping up here and there.
      As they entered the Great Forest the Elflings saw that it was unlike any other wood they had ever seen. Unlike the simple verticality of the modest woods of Laurelindor or the gnarled, sinister perversity of Druadaneth, this was a place of busy growth, of myriad levels of complexity, and above all of a natural beauty which brought warmth and delight to the spirit.
      Though every forest must by definition be made of trees, the trees of Arvalla did not so much make the forest as simply provide a structure round which the many other arboreal elements could range themselves. Lining the ground were mosses and lichens, ferns and grasses, toadstools and shrubs and creepers. There were bushes and brambles, nettles and herbs. Above these grew the middle and upper storey trees to which clung a plethora of mosses and vines and many aerophytes of all kinds, for though the trees looked over the forest from above they did not greedily absorb all the sunlight themselves, allowing instead many a bright ray to shine down onto the colourful world below.
      And there were flowers, too—a great many of them. The bushes and creepers flowered at the companions’ feet while the vines and trees blossomed above. At intervals a warm, fragrant breeze blew tiny flower petals and brightly painted butterflies across their path. There were bees buzzing about every which way busily collecting the bountiful products of a diverse woodland flora. Hummingbirds, too, whizzed by within inches of their faces, sometimes pausing briefly to consider the companions, whether any of them might have nectaries in need of their services. On the low branches and leaves they saw colourful spiders and mantises hunting for caterpillars and beetles. There were moths that looked like hummingbirds, and hummingbirds that looked like moths. And still there was much that was there that they did not see, because they could not look everywhere at once.
      As they made their way through the thick vegetation they began to notice the birds, for the air was full of their sweet singing, and in addition to the hummingbirds they occasionally caught a glimpse of a feathered gem speeding through the air over bush and under bough. There were warblers of many different kinds, and kinglets and vireos, orioles and tanagers, toucans and parrots and cuckoos and goldfinches. Woodmerlins hissed by with frightening speed in search of the slower or less wary of their distant cousins.
      At times the party chanced upon marshy areas or ponds lined with rushes and cattails, and here they saw beavers and snakes plying the clear, shallow waters as cranes and storks waded about them in hopes of stirring up a fish or two or even nabbing a small frog.
      And so, their spirits were much uplifted by entering the greatwood, for it was a place diverse and full of beauty, a wild world of wonder that they would not have easily traded for the comparative sterility of the plains of Aresse.
      They so delighted in their surrounds that they almost forgot to stop for lunch when the noon hour arrived. Though they had plenty of provisions with them they decided instead to partake of some of the forest fruits which grew in profusion about them. Raspberries and mulberries added to apples and peaches made for a sweet repast that drained any weariness they may have felt. They sat and ate by a cool spring which provided them with sweet, refreshing water for washing down their meal.
      It was as they were eating and drinking that they heard a rustle in the undergrowth and looked to see two faces peering out at them from beneath a log. They were dirty faces, but beautiful all the same, for they were the faces of Elf children—a boy and a girl. Even the Elflings knew this, for they shared many of the features of Elflings, yet there was something special about them which they could not place.
      A pause ensued as the tots watched the company and the company watched back. Finally Raavan beckoned them forward and with only slight hesitation they came. Though Raavan spoke to them both in the common tongue and in something which the others assumed to be Elvish, the young ones did not speak as they apparently were entirely mute. Yet, there was one thing they were able to communicate to the travellers through their gestures and facial expressions: that they were very hungry.
      The companions shared their lunch with the waifs, who ate as though they had not had a meal in days. All eyes watched the young ones sate their hunger, yet little could be learned of them, for still they would not speak, and it could only be assumed that they had no parents. When the children had finished eating they warmed greatly to the companions, smiling and laughing as they climbed over the travellers and their gear, examined their strange clothing, and tugged playfully at their fingers, beards, and noses.
      ‘What do you suppose has become of their parents?’ asked Talen, who found the young ones very endearing indeed.
      ‘That’s a good question,’ replied Raavan, ‘but it seems unlikely we will be able to find that out.’
      ‘Then what will we do with them?’ asked the Elfling.
      ‘I suppose we shall have to take them with us,’ said Raavan, ‘at least till we can find someone able to care for them.’
      And so the companions rose, untethered their steeds, and began to lead them back toward the nearby road. But the children would not follow, steadfastly refusing to budge, with ever a glance behind them toward the deeper wood. The companions beckoned to them, but they stood fast, and when it was clear to the young ones that the strangers were very keen to continue on toward the road the Elf children turned and slowly began to pick their way through the forest. The companions were baffled.
      ‘Perhaps their home is that way,’ suggested Dannadar.
      ‘I guess we’d better follow them,’ said Raavan reluctantly.
      And so, follow them they did. Very soon they had arrived at a tiny homestead set on the edge of a creek, consisting of an old log cabin clothed in ivy. Close by the house they found a seesaw on which the children immediately began to play. There also was a goodly pile of firewood laid against the side of the cabin, and an empty clothesline. Though the house was small the site was idyllic, for the beauties of the forest were all about them. Had they not their important quest to continue, any one of them would have liked to tarry here a while.
      When the companions knocked on the door the children came and led them inside. There were several straw beds on the first floor and several more upstairs, but otherwise there was little to be found. Though the fireplace appeared not to have been used in several months this was not surprising as it was now summer and there was a fire ring out back next to the creek.
      The children seemed right at home in the place and there was now no question that this was indeed their home, though where their parents could be was a riddle none could unwind. No sign of violence could they find though they searched the premises with great care. They were unsure just what to do.
      ‘We can’t just leave them here,’ said Talen.
      ‘Maybe their parents are just out hunting or collecting berries or something,’ suggested Dannadar.
      ‘Or maybe they’re dead,’ said Burak. ‘Who knows what may have befallen them?
      Meanwhile, the children had climbed into one of the beds and were now napping contentedly. It was decided finally that the party should wait at least till dinner time to see if the missing occupants returned. After that it might be presumed that they were dead and then the children would have to be taken along till they could be placed in the care of another family. Raavan’s assessment was that finding such a family could be difficult in this part of the forest, for the Elves in western Arvalla tended to be rather reclusive and solitary. Eventually, though, they should be able to find a suitable home for them when the party passed into the more easterly parts of the forest.
      And so they waited. It was a quiet afternoon, and a rather warm one. Soon they all felt that they too could use a little rest, and as it seemed little harm would come from joining the napping children they tested out the beds and rested their eyes for a bit. It was a mistake.
      When they awoke they found that while the owners had not returned, the children were contentedly playing on the floor with their wooden toys. The waifs were happy to see their new friends arise and soon they had drawn them into games out in the tiny lawn next to the cabin.
      Again it came to the companions’ minds that this would indeed be a fine place to tarry for a few days. They could fish in the stream, collect berries and fruits for making sumptuous pies, and for a short while at least taste the simple life of an Elven family. Indeed, why should they not take a rest, throw off the cares of the world, and enjoy the intoxicating pleasures of the forest? Silently each of them made up his mind that he would do precisely this. Soon they were busy cleaning up the place, making it a bit more habitable for them, as this was to be their new home for the foreseeable future.
      They washed their clothes in the creek and then hung them out to dry on the clothesline. Alatar and Burak caught several large fish which they cooked over the open fire while Raavan watched with great enjoyment as the Elflings ran and played with the children on the lawn. They played ring-around-the-rosies, hide-and-seek, blind man’s bluff, and many other such games, and they enjoyed it immensely. As they drifted off to sleep in their straw beds that evening they felt quite content knowing that this was their natural place in the world and that nothing could prevent their living long and happy lives here.
      Days passed and still their contentment lived undisturbed within their hearts. They spent much of their time playing with the Elf children, showing and teaching them many things, from the preparing of meals to the tying of shoes. Soon they lost count of the days. None of them had any recollection of their previous lives, nor did this bother them in any way.
      But one morning they awoke to find that the children were gone. Though they searched high and low for them no trace could be found. They felt awkward, moreover, for it suddenly dawned on them that though they should be pursuing their all-important quest, they could not tell how many days had been spent uselessly in this place. Raavan was particularly troubled.
      Now the wizard began to examine with great interest several sets of tracks which he found on the ground outside. The tracks appeared to originate within the cabin itself and to lead off into the woods. He did not look pleased.
      ‘What is it?’ asked the others
      ‘Unicorns,’ replied Raavan. ‘—it seems that we have been their unwitting guests.’
       
       
      How many days they had lost they did not know, but it now seemed certain they had spent several days or perhaps several weeks under the spell of a pair of crafty Unicorns. That these magical beasts enjoyed playing harmless tricks on travellers was well known, though the companions were of course more than a little irked that they had been the unwitting participants in such tomfoolery.
      Mounting up they found their way back to the road and continued their journey through the woods. The Elflings had of course always wanted to see a Unicorn, and though they still were smarting from their experience, they realised with chagrin that they still had not seen one—not one in its natural form, anyway. They were now doubly disappointed.
      On they went toward the east, though soon the road dwindled down to a mere path, and shortly thereafter it disappeared altogether. Raavan now had them turn somewhat toward the north-east, for he remembered that the road in ancient times had done so roughly where they now were. The place to which he hoped to lead them was where the river Tyalume joined the Telere before together they flowed south toward the sea. Following the Tyalume upstream would then bring them in time out of the forest at Eastgate on the western edge of Pilinon. From there they could ride on to Pencairn, the grand capital city of that mighty kingdom.
      For now, however, it was very slow going as the forest was quite dense in places and there was no clear trail for them to follow. Yet, the beauty of the wood was ever present, though the variety which they saw was often baffling. They went from stands of birch and aspen to groves of hickory, ash, or alder. A mixed copse of honeylocust and arrowwood might give way to a brake of rowan and camphor trees, or to a coppice of cottonwood and hornbeam. In the wetter areas they invariably encountered cypress and mangrove and occasionally pussy willows.
      For lunch they again accepted the gifts of the forest, dining on the assorted nuts and fruits that they were able to find. For dinner they ate some of the salted meat which they had brought with them, along with some carrots and mushrooms that Alatar gathered.
      The man was pleased to find several medicinal herbs growing in the forest as well, and these he sparingly collected. These included the leaves of muscalam and aderthas for the relief of pain, and the stem and roots of oryantil and lïquílis , which could cure paralysis and even offer protection against plague. In addition he collected some leaves of the lossara plant, which when steeped in hot water produced a very relaxing drink that looked and smelled like tea, but had a more bitter taste, as the companions discovered while they sat round the campfire that evening sipping the hot beverage.
      In the very early morning Talen awoke to see that the forest was blanketed with a thick layer of mist. Stumbling to the nearby stream he dunked his head in the cool water and stood wiping his face as Falco stepped up and with a groggy good morning did the same. Just then the two heard a crashing in the woods nearby as of some large animal running recklessly through the forest. It seemed to be headed their way. With no time to grab their bows and too surprised to call out to the others they drew the short-swords at their sides and waited nearly in a daze.
      Suddenly before them appeared an enormous rack of antlers and behind these followed the head of a most proud animal, yet perhaps not the most benign. Though it had the appearance of a gigantic deer, the animal was totally black except for the very striking eyes which were white with small black pupils. Though they knew not what manner of beast this was, it certainly was breathtaking and indeed they held their breath as it turned and ran away.
      As they watched it go, only now daring to breath but still abstractedly holding their swords in hand, another sound came from the direction whence the deer-like animal had come. The sound was quieter this time, but again it seemed to them that something was making a quick approach. This time they hastily positioned themselves part-way behind a thin rowan tree. It was all they had time for, as the approacher suddenly appeared across the stream in front of them.
      This time there were no antlers, but rather an enormously long, grey beard which hung from a deeply wrinkled face. In that face were deep-set, troubled eyes. In one hand the hunter (for such was he) held a spear, and though he wore sandals on his feet, he wore nothing else, for so long and so thick were his beard and his hair (fully down to his knees in fact) that he truly had no need for any other clothing. As quickly as he had appeared, he vanished, running off with all speed in pursuit of the fleeing animal.
      ‘Well, that’s not something you see every day,’ said Falco after the two had stood there for a moment.
      ‘You can say that again,’ agreed Talen.
      When the pair returned to camp they found that the others were in the process of waking up. The Elflings described their brief encounter to Raavan as the old wizard rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
      ‘You saw what?’ was his first reply, but after hearing it a second time he thought hard, then said, ‘Well, the beast you saw was almost certainly the Black Hart. It is an animal which I myself have never seen but is said to have roamed Entira since before man first set foot upon this land. It is considered by some to be a harbinger of great evil, though that’s probably just a bunch of nonsense. The two of you saw this together?’
      ‘Yes,’ answered the pair as Alatar approached.
      ‘Interesting,’ mused Raavan. ‘Because, if that was indeed the Black Hart you saw then the man chasing it would have to have been Elemar of Cannoch. Egad! I had no idea that story was true.’
      ‘It is?’ asked Alatar with surprise, for he had not heard the Elflings’ account.
      ‘Well, it would appear so,’ said Raavan.
      ‘What story?’ asked Falco.
      ‘Tell Alatar what you told me,’ said Raavan, ‘about the Hart and his hunter.’
      And so the Elflings recounted their brief tale to Alatar while the man rekindled the fire and hung the teapot over it.
      ‘Now, to what story were you referring?’ asked Falco of the wizard.
      Raavan replied, ‘About three thousand years ago there was a king in eastern Arnedia who was said to have earned the trust of a certain Hyelpion—a winged horse—named Ratilquen. The king took great pride in the association, for the Hyelpia were well known to otherwise avoid all contact with men. But then this knave Elemar, a hunter from a nearby town named Cannoch, boasted that he could bring down a Hyelpion with nothing but his spear and his best running shoes.
      ‘Wagers were cast and then the fool went forth with his spear and lay in wait at the place where the king was rumoured to meet on occasion with Ratilquen. One evening when the majestic beast was waiting for the king to arrive Elemar appeared suddenly from behind a rock and speared the Hyelpion’s wing, shattering one of the bones and rendering the beast permanently flightless. Before he could retrieve his spear from the injured animal the hunter was apprehended by the king’s guards, placed in chains, and severely beaten.
      ‘The king wished for him to be executed on the spot, but Ratilquen demanded that he be able to set the punishment for the miscreant. He demanded that the man be set free, but before he was able to flee he was stripped of all his clothes and given only his spear. Ratilquen then spoke directly to the man, telling him that he was thenceforth cursed to hunt for the beast known as the Black Hart, that he would have no rest till he speared the evasive stag, and that even death would not save him from having to complete this task.
      ‘It is said that he has been hunting for the elusive animal now for three thousand years, yet has not so much as scratched the wily beast.’
      ‘And that’s the man we saw today?’ asked Falco somewhat dubiously.
      ‘It would seem so,’ answered the wizard.
      ‘Three thousand years is a long time to be cursed,’ observed Dannadar.
      ‘It is indeed, lad,’ agreed the wizard.
       
       
      Soon they were again on their way. Though they no longer had even an indistinct path to follow they at least knew that somewhere to the east lay the river Telere which they must cross. Raavan now led them eastward toward the rising sun, though the heavy mist made even that a difficult task. Before long the mist burned off, however, revealing the many hanging lianas, trilliums, and orchids that in wonderful profusion decorated this part of the forest.
      They took their lunch in a pleasant glade of loosestrife and thimbleweed, with nightshade growing abundantly around the perimeter. Nearby a babbling brook bordered by saxifrage ran swiftly by before diving into tall bushes covered densely with flowering honeysuckle.
      As they sat quietly eating raspberries and plums a faint voice came to them from beyond the bushes: a woman’s voice, singing high and clear. Though it was heard by all, only the Elflings and the Dwarf took much notice.
      ‘Who is that I wonder?’ said Dannadar.
      ‘Go and find out,’ said Raavan.
      ‘Really?’ asked the Elfling.
      ‘Yes,’ replied the old man. ‘Just don’t get yourself lost.’
      And so the Elflings and the Dwarf made their careful way along the stream bank, taking great pains to make no noise as slowly they picked their way between the thick bushes.
      Just beyond the line of high shrubs the stream leapt down into a tiny gorge surrounded by a circlet of shady magnolias. On the surface of the pond thus formed floated lilies and water hyacinths. At the edge of this delightful little pool stood a golden haired maiden of such intense beauty that the companions stopped where they stood, mouths agape, and watched with silence, for the beauty of the woman’s nakedness and the contrast of her creamy skin against the background of verdant grass and blue water created an image most striking and pleasant.
      Presently she lowered her delicate limbs into the pool as she hummed softly to herself and then washed her flowing hair with a grace of movement that the watchers had rarely seen. For long moments they watched enraptured as the lovely creature frolicked in the water and in her sweet voice sang of the spirit of the forest and of his consort, the divine sun.
      She had finished her bath and was climbing out of the pool when Burak unintentionally coughed, giving away the presence of the silent watchers. The maiden turned to see them standing there and then just as suddenly sprang off into the woods.
      ‘Well?’ asked the wizard when the four had returned to the glade.
      ‘It was a woman,’ answered Talen, still starry-eyed from the encounter.
      ‘A Dryad,’ corrected Raavan: ‘a lady of the wood. You will likely see others before we leave the forest. They are skittish creatures, but it is not unusual to catch a glimpse of one here and there.’
      ‘I can’t say that I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Falco.
       
       
      That afternoon they finally reached the Telere, coursing powerfully on its way from the Vinyanan Mountains in the north toward its meeting with the sea at Southbridge. From the breadth of the river and the force of its flow Raavan concluded that they had strayed too far south and that the joining of the two rivers was still some ways to the north. Following the river upstream they rode slowly along its bank.
      There was a flurry of bird activity here, especially by the brightly coloured hummingbirds, for over the river hung great branches thickly draped with multitudes of trumpet-shaped flowers, some red and some yellow, and the scent which they gave off was truly exquisite. Though Dannadar stretched out his arm he could not reach them. Yet, try and try he did till finally he fell off his pony onto the grassy bank. Of course none were surprised, but they all paused while the youth rubbed his sore rear and prepared to remount his steed.
      Suddenly they heard a single thud not far ahead, as of a heavy hoof striking the ground. When they looked they saw that standing on the bank ahead of them was a large, white Unicorn, his golden mane blowing in the breeze. A bright ray of sunlight escaped through the sparse canopy on the left to enshroud the animal with a glowing white radiance. With ears erect he snorted once, then tossed his head toward the woods near at hand.
      ‘What should we—’ began Dannadar, but he was cut off.
      ‘Wait,’ Raavan instructed the party. ‘Stay here. I will see what he wants.’
      ‘But what if—’ objected Dannadar, but again he was interrupted as the wizard answered curtly: ‘Just wait here!’
      Now Raavan approached the majestic beast, his steed Windaris bowing its head when they neared the exalted ungulate. In low voices the wizard and the Unicorn conversed very briefly, though what was said none could tell, for the language was strange to them. Presently Raavan turned and strode back to the party.
      ‘His name is Hyaris; he is a great prince,’ the wizard explained. ‘We are to follow him into the woods. I have been assured that it will not take long.’
      ‘This is folly!’ objected Burak. ‘Surely you remember the last time we followed one of their kind into the forest.’
      ‘I have his assurance, Burak,’ said Raavan. ‘These are creatures of their word. When it is given, it is to be trusted above all things.’
      Though they all appeared reluctant to do as the Unicorn wished, no more objections were made and so they followed him as he trotted into the woods looking back from time to time to see that they still followed.
      Eventually they came to a great cave boring into the side of a hill. Into the dark cavern Hyaris led the silent travellers and they saw then that the cave immediately turned to delve steeply into the earth. As they made their descent the air became stifling and soon it began to reek. Though it was pitch black in the tunnel a faint glow from the Unicorn showed them the way, and despite the ruggedness of the floor they did not trip.
      Finally they came again into the open, but they saw that it now was night, a red moon glowing ominously overhead. They stood high on a ledge looking down onto a moonlit world where dark, ghostlike figures roamed aimlessly over a bleak land. In the distance a great fire burned, though the source of the flame was not apparent.
      Now about them they saw other Unicorns step up to the ledge, but unlike their proud guide Hyaris these creatures were black as night and sickly in appearance. They turned to the companions and gazed at them with pleading eyes that shocked and horrified the watchers more than any other element of this disturbing scene. Through their gaze it seemed that the animals communicated intimately with the companions, though exactly what was said they could not consciously articulate.
      The companions now guessed that this was a scene from the future—a future that would certainly come to pass unless the Deathlord could be overcome and his plans for domination thwarted. The message was not lost on any who saw the disturbing images.
      True to his word Hyaris led them out again through the cave to the sunny world above. When they all had emerged from the hill Hyaris gave them one final glance, then galloped off into the deeper forest.
      Glancing down at his hands Talen suddenly noticed that branded onto the back of his right hand was an outline in the likeness of a Unicorn’s spiral horn.
      ‘Look!’ he exclaimed with wonder, holding his hand aloft for all to see.
      ‘Yes,’ said Alatar, regarding his own hand, ‘we all are marked,’ and they saw then that it was true.
      ‘It is the sign of the Hyarë,’ said Raavan. ‘They know our task and have given us their blessing.’