Chapter 4

The sun was setting far over the mountains when finally they entered Merethir Forest. Yet, though they now entered that great wood, they did so in a somewhat peculiar way. The canyon in which they had been travelling opened suddenly into a wide valley bordered by sheer cliffs, and though the forest grew up all around the edges of this dale, the valley itself was carpeted primarily with verdant pastures and only a few small groves of white rowan and birch. Thus, while they verily had entered the wider land known as Merethir Forest, they were not yet walking among the trees.
      Through this wide vale wound the River Svienya, leaping here and there over modest falls or rushing shallow over rocky beds. As they traversed the valley they discovered that the Svienya had many voices: it hissed, it thundered, and it hissed some more, and whenever it had nothing to hiss or thunder about it contentedly babbled to itself. On and on it sang in its ever changing voice, yet always the words were the same: peace, serenity, contentedness, delight . With this modest vocabulary the Svienya composed great operas of never-ending variety—the epic tale of a river’s life, distilled into pure natural sounds, but in so touching a fashion that none who heard it failed to relate.
      This was Varnildale, also known as Morning Glen, and it was here that King Ceirdain could oft be found, for though the Itarien Elves loved the forest, they also loved the sun, and it was here that the first full rays of morning sunlight shone wide on the land of Merethir.
      Though it now was becoming too dark for them to see, several small clusters of wooden houses were set about the glen. Toward one of these the party was led by Sildin. Here they would spend the night, and in the morning they would seek out the king. Much like King Caelebrin of Arvalla, the king of Merethir did not stay in one place but prefered to move about between several residences, and as Sildin had been away for some number of days he would have to inquire as to Ceirdain’s present whereabouts.
      For the time being they concerned themselves with the stabling and care of their steeds and then they began to look after their own feeding and tenements. Sildin showed them to a vacant guesthouse where they supped on steamed vegetables, nuts, and rice. Then they boiled water and had a hot bath. They took some time to thoroughly clean out their wounds which they then bandaged with cotton swabs provided by Sildin. Alatar concocted an ointment to smear into their cuts, and this it was hoped would prevent their wounds from festering.
      That night they were able to sleep soundly knowing that they were under the protection of the Elves. Sildin did not stay with them, for his own home lay across the vale.
      Before taking his leave of the company Sildin assured Raavan that he would speak with the officers of the night watch regarding the Goblyns they had encountered along the southern margins of the forest. Though the Elf thought it possible that the spawn might yet venture farther north that same night, Raavan thought it unlikely as the bands which they had encountered in Tachán were in all likelihood scouts from Penyandil. Of course, the Elves already were keenly aware of the presence of spawn at the pass. Nevertheless, Sildin recommended additional sentinels be put on patrol as a precaution.
      In the morning they re-bandaged their wounds after once again applying Alatar’s salve. They broke their fast with Sildin in the guesthouse and then made ready to depart, for the Elf had determined that Ceirdain was not in Varnildale and was not expected to make an appearance there till late afternoon. They spent some time checking on the condition of their steeds, and then satisfied that the latter were not overly worn out by the recent exertions which they had endured they mounted up and rode toward the west end of the valley.
      As they rode they looked up to see a number of strange creatures perched on ledges at varying heights along the cliffs. Raavan informed the party that these were Wyverns, the smaller cousins of Dragons. The creatures were manifestly reptilian in their every appearance, having long necks and tails, broad wings, fully scaled bodies, and long, pointed heads.
      Though they did not look at all friendly Sildin assured the companions that the creatures were no threat to the party. These were merely wild animals that lived in the forest. Though they were known to be exceptionally intelligent and even quite aggressive when threatened, the Elves tolerated and coexisted with them. The Elves considered that it was not their place to eradicate any member of the forest community, no matter how inconvenient, or of what little direct use to the Elves themselves. As the Elves were wont to point out, the Wyvern was there long before the Elf.
      At this end the vale closed up just as quickly as it had opened, leaving the river with but a narrow canyon cradling it and the road which ran alongside, but soon even the canyon began to erode, for the cliffs on either hand became steadily less as the valley floor rose to meet them. Also, trees began to spring up with greater frequency, so that before they had even left the canyon the companions found themselves fully in the thick of the forest.
      The forest itself was much darker than Arvalla, though it lacked the dreadful foreboding which was ever present in Druadaneth. The trees were clearly very ancient, with their gnarled branches twisting and thrusting in every direction.
      Talen imagined, as he looked on, that were time somehow compelled to run more quickly he would see not a static forest of lifeless branches, but a frantic battle between competing trees which constantly whipped and poked each other as they strove for domination of the canopy. Indeed, it seemed to him that on a different time scale the trees must in fact be taking part in such a war in a very real way, for it was precisely those trees which were able to fight their way to the canopy that would be best able to collect enough sunlight and insure their survival.
      He mused that at that scale of time his own worries and concerns and the events which his companions were striving to alter would slip by so quickly as to seem inconsequential to the trees. Perhaps it would be better to be a tree, then, he thought. He soon changed his mind, however, when it occured to him that as a tree he would be unable to saunter into Clackfriar’s Pub on Friday afternoons to order a quart of frothy ale. And that would be a shame.
      Though the forest seemed dark now, it would be lightening up considerably over the next few weeks or perhaps even the next few days, for the leaves already were assuming their fall colours of golden yellow and fiery red. Soon they would be dropping to the forest floor to let in the sunlight which the trees were able to keep out only during the warmer months.
      Over an intricately carved wooden bridge they rode, for they still were on the southern side of the river. After this a well-worn trail led them through the forest for some time before forking, with the left way curving back round to run north-westerly along the river. This left-hand way was the one which they chose following Sildin’s lead. Several times more the trail forked, yet always they stayed along the edge of the river, travelling many miles in the same direction till finally the land began to get very wet and soon they were travelling through a bog.
      Now they were taken on a more northerly course away from the river. Though they soon were completely surrounded by marsh the trail itself was dry, for they found themselves on a causeway which split the water as it meandered onward. Eventually the trail wandered again out of the bog and once more they travelled in a north-westerly direction till finally they re-entered the swamp heading due west. From here they had to go on foot, and so the steeds were tethered at a tiny stable beside the trail. Continuing on they soon found that the earthen trail ended at a narrow boardwalk that was raised about a foot above the water.
      ‘Iquessa,’ said Sildin by way of welcome, ‘or what men call Glasswade. We will find His Highness here. It is still some ways on foot, but it should not take overlong.’
      On they went into the swamp. Here the trees were tall and mostly lacking in lower branches, so that the understory was wide open. One consequence of this was that high-pitched sounds (such as the songs of birds) carried long distances and often had an attendant echo. Soon the companions began to notice the many birds which lived in this part of the forest. They all were quite large, especially the woodpeckers, which had either red or yellow heads and clung to the sides of trees shouting kik kik kik kik kik kik!
      What might have seemed at first a rather sombre place now began to take on a new aspect to the companions as they listened to the echoing sounds of the forest creatures all about them. It was a melodic, enchanting sound that soothed their spirits and brought calm and order to their thoughts, though the sounds themselves seemed anything but orderly. Yet, between the individual notes of the forest’s music there resided a deep silence—not an oppressive, deathly silence, but rather a respectful one which spoke of calmness and restraint, and the beauty of simplicity.
      Presently they came to the end of the boardwalk, where at a small dock a number of canoes were moored. These they entered and untied, and then taking up the paddles which they found within they began to make their slow way westerly.
      Soon they began to notice small wooden structures high in the trees. Each of these consisted of a platform with the great bole of a tree passing through the middle, and then a cabin constructed on top of the platform complete with windows and a slanted roof. Some of them also featured balconies that completely surrounded the structure, and a number of them were connected to each other by plank-and-rope catwalks that stretched between the immense trees. Though many of them did not seem to be accessible from the ground, from a few could be seen dangling a long rope ladder to a landing below.
      Each of these hut-like structures was called a räst , and the catwalks between them were called clêfs . Sildin explained that the räst-and-clêf system was an ancient one that originated in Sulunerea.
      ‘Elves actually live up there?’ asked Talen.
      ‘Some do,’ Sildin affirmed.
      ‘I would be terrified to live in such a place,’ said Talen. ‘I mean, for fear of falling.’
      ‘Aye,’ agreed Burak, ‘you’d be much better off living underground.’
      ‘You get used to it,’ said Sildin.
      Now they approached a particularly large tree with a correspondingly huge räst built round it. At the base of the great tree was a large dock, and from the dock up to the platform high above extended several ropes attached to a pulley-and-weight system that provided the means of ascending to this räst which had no apparent ladder.
      ‘The King’s canoe is not here,’ noted Sildin, ‘He is likely at tea. We will go to the Sunledge. Moor your boats here. We go the rest of the way on foot.’
      ‘On foot?’ said Burak, somewhat surprised. ‘Won’t we get wet?’
      They moored the canoes as instructed and then followed a short boardwalk to a nearby tree supporting a smaller räst, to which they then ascended by way of a wooden ladder affixed to the trunk of the tree. When they reached the platform high above they passed through a trapdoor to come out through the floor of the räst.
      When they had emerged from the trapdoor they saw that this räst was constructed rather like a gazebo, with only a railing round the outer edge in place of a wall, though there was a roof overhead. There were two Elves here as well, sitting on the floor with bow in hand and quivers full of long arrows within easy reach.
      ‘Good morning,’ said the Elven sentinels.
      ‘Ceirdain is at tea, I take it,’ queried Sildin.
      ‘Yes,’ replied one of the guards, ‘and you should have plenty of time to catch him there. He has been gone but a short time now.’
      Now Sildin led the companions westward over a clêf connecting this räst to the next one. Not all of them enjoyed this portion of the trek through Merethir, for as they walked the clêf bounced and swung side-to-side, so that soon they were wishing they were back on solid ground once more. Yet, the way was rather a long one, over a mile in fact, so that those who harboured a dislike of heights were forced to bear their discomfort for some time. Airi of course was not among the latter group, for he swooped enthusiastically from räst to räst poking his head in each window to see who or what might be found there.
      ‘It’s at times like these that I wish I was a bird,’ said Talen.
      ‘Or a squirrel,’ said Falco.
      ‘Well, if we fall, there is water beneath us,’ said Burak. ‘That at least is some comfort.’
      ‘But is that a comfort to you ,’ said Raavan, ‘or to the crocodiles ?’
      ‘Crocodiles? ’ they cried in unison.
      ‘Are there really crocodiles in this water, Sildin?’ asked Talen nervously.
      ‘Yes,’ replied the Elf, ‘but our crocodiles don’t glut themselves the way many others do.’
      ‘Meaning what, precisely?’ asked Burak.
      ‘Well,’ explained Sildin, ‘when they do attack they usually eat only one or two people at a time—depending on their size, of course.’
      ‘I’m sure two Elflings and a Dwarf would not be too much for them to handle, however,’ added Raavan.
      ‘Wonderful,’ said Falco.
      ‘Well, at least the rest of us are probably safe,’ said Alatar with a smile.
      ‘That’s very comforting,’ said Burak.
       
       
      Eventually they arrived at the far western edge of the swamp where a massive wall of rock rose sheer from the water into the sky. The final clêf took them to a narrow ledge perched high up on the face of the cliff, and when they reached the ledge Sildin led them along the cliff face to a stone stair that was carved directly into the rock. The stair wound back and forth in hairpin fashion till they reached another ledge where stood two fully armed Elven warriors. Here they were asked to remove all of their weapons and leave them on a long wooden bench there.
      Wondering how much further they had yet to climb, Talen glanced up to find that they had nearly reached the top of the cliff. He was quite startled however to see a large feathered head with an enormous, curved beak suddenly poke out over the edge of the cliff to stare shrewdly at them. With piercing yellow eyes it gazed, and when Airi saw the great staring head he let out a most surprising shriek. Straightway he flapped off into the woods.
      ‘There is an eagle up there!’ exclaimed Talen.
      ‘Yes,’ replied Sildin, ‘that is Kili-Nakirin, King of the Eagles, and it is for his sake that you are asked to leave all of your weapons behind.’
      Once they all were unarmed they proceeded up the final stairs to come to a wide, flat area atop the cliff which afforded the most impressive view. The sun shone down brightly from the east, setting the colourful leaves of the forest canopy aflame below. Behind the party rose the Greywall Mountains which stretched fully from Tolor far in the north to Pilinon far to the south. The spectacle was quite breathtaking, and they all looked about for a moment in silence as they took it all in.
      Presently they noticed that seated in a small wooden chair sat a rather respectable-looking Elf. He wore a long, white robe and a friendly smile, and in his hand was a small teacup.
      ‘Your Highness,’ said Raavan with a deferential bow.
      ‘Hello, Raavan,’ said the king. ‘It has been some time.’
      ‘It has, Your Highness,’ said the wizard. ‘If I may introduce to you my companions: this is Sir Berethir of Pencairn; Lord Valainis of Avalesse; Alatar, son of Avalar of Aresse and wielder of Noromendor; Burak of the Belling Hills; and the Elflings: Talen and Falco, of Laurelindor.’
      ‘Greetings all,’ said the king, ‘and welcome to Merethir. I am Ceirdain, and this is my good friend, Kili-Nakirin, King of the Eagles.’
      All then bowed to the great eagle, who politely nodded   in return. The companions saw then that a wide pan of tea was set before the gigantic bird, and as Ceirdain urged them all to take tea and biscuits the bird stooped to slurp some of the warm liquid into his beak.
      Raavan said to the eagle, ‘How goes it with you, Kili-Nakirin? It has been some months since last we spoke.’
      ‘I believe it is close on a year,’ replied the bird in a deep voice. ‘It is good to see you again, Raavan. You will give my regards to all the Kastairi, I trust.’
      ‘I will,’ said Raavan. ‘How have the winds been treating you?’
      ‘The winds have been very fine,’ replied the eagle, ‘though, what I have seen of late while hanging upon them has not.’
      ‘I gather that you have been to Tath recently,’ said Raavan.
      ‘Tath, yes,’ replied the eagle, ‘and also Tolor, Malindor, Koronandor, Druadaneth. Everywhere it is much the same: vile creatures walk the land that previously were confined to the dark places within the earth. It may interest you to know that an army of them now lays siege to the Dwarf kingdom of Druindor, and that another army now marches on Koronandor.’
      Of course, the party were highly alarmed at this news, and for a moment the shock left them speechless.
      ‘Then it has begun!’ exclaimed Berethir. ‘This is dark news, indeed.’
      ‘The allies are yet ill prepared for an invasion,’ said Alatar gravely.
      ‘What portion of Silgoth’s force has been deployed?’ Raavan asked of the noble bird.
      ‘It is no great portion,’ answered the feathered king. ‘In Tath there remain large numbers of foul beasts: Goblyns, Troells, Ghakhen, Naegrim, Daonracht, and Dredgion—and more than a few of the latter I should add, though there appears neither to be any lack of the others. Many Naegrim and Ghakhen I saw.’
      ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting him to breed an army of mere Troells,’ said Raavan with obvious disappointment.
      ‘I wish he had,’ said Burak. ‘I have never encountered the Naegrim, but I have seen a Ghakh up close and I have fought my share of Goblurs, and I can say that Troell heads would have been much easier to collect.’
      ‘Indeed,’ agreed Raavan. Then, to Kili-Nakirin, ‘How do the Dwarves of Druindor fare against the spawn at their gates?’
      ‘I did not stay to watch the battle,’ answered the eagle, ‘but the Dwarves did not appear to be well prepared for the assault.’
      ‘They doubtless were not expecting it,’ said Raavan. ‘And the force that approaches Koronandor—I would guess that its target actually is Pilinon. If it is only a moderate-sized army then the Pilian forces should at least be able to mount some sort of defence, even if it must be hastily deployed.’
      ‘Yes,’ agreed Berethir, obviously disappointed that he would not be there to aid his countrymen.
      ‘This was quite unexpected, was it not?’ said Burak.
      ‘He is merely testing us,’ answered the wizard. ‘As King Nakirin has noted, the majority of Silgoth’s horde remains yet in Tath. The main assault has not begun. Silgoth will hold his main army back until the very eve of the Unsundering. These forces which he has sent out are not meant to conquer.’
      ‘He is probing our weaknesses,’ said Berethir.
      ‘That’s right,’ agreed the wizard: ‘probing and measuring. He will be carefully gauging our response. For that reason it may work to our advantage in the long term if our immediate response isn’t terribly overpowering. It will pacify him somewhat. If it causes him to slow his escalation then we may thereby benefit in some measure.’
      ‘Let us hope so,’ said the eagle. ‘And now, if you will excuse me, I have a rendezvous some miles south of here with my brother, and already I have tarried overlong. I wish you the best of luck.’
      ‘Thank-you,’ said Raavan, bowing respectfully to the avian king. The bird then bid Ceirdain and the others good-bye and then spreading his enormous wings he flapped off toward the south. They watched his golden plumage shine in the sun as he shrank into the distance.
      ‘Do you know the status of the passes?’ asked Raavan of the Elven king.
      ‘Of Penyandil, yes,’ answered the king. ‘As of yesterday it was held by a relatively modest force. It is possible however that they may receive reinforcements from the army which now marches on Koronandor. For this reason I have ordered that a team be organised swiftly to reclaim the pass, for it is vital that that pass at least remain open if the allies in the East are to march on Tath.’
      ‘You have had word, then, of our counsels at Valassea,’ surmised Raavan.
      ‘Yes,’ confirmed Ceirdain, ‘Sildin sent word late last night of the developments. I am apprised of your situation and intentions—that is, if they have not changed.’
      ‘Not significantly,’ said Raavan. ‘And what of Foireách?’
      ‘I have not had word in several days,’ answered the king. ‘I dispatched two riders this morning for the pass to ascertain whether it is open still. As soon as Penyandil has been re-taken we will be free to concentrate on securing Foireách. Neither should be an impossibly difficult task, unless both are held, and by significant numbers. Then we would be compelled to send a force over the mountains and come at them from either side, and depending on the condition of the mountain paths, that may be a very difficult proposition indeed. At the moment, however, I am hopeful that it will be only a matter of days before at least Penyandil is in our possession.’
      ‘Unfortunately, we haven’t days to spare,’ said Raavan. ‘We will have to assume for now that Foireách is still open.
      ‘And if it is not?’ asked the king.
      ‘Then Mornaru and Egladhren,’ answered Raavan.
      ‘That is a long way around,’ said Ceirdain.
      ‘I know,’ said Raavan, ‘but I don’t see that we have much choice. Our time table is rather tight. We need to be in Tath before the eclipse, and that leaves precious little time. Also, it was the opinion of those who best know the terrain that a stealthy trek along the length of Tolor would give us the greatest chance of avoiding detection by the enemy. Even with a Ghakhen army assaulting Druindor I think we stand a fair chance of slipping by—especially if we are able to follow the secret mountain paths of the Dwarves.’
      ‘That sounds reasonable,’ said Ceirdain. ‘And when you arrive at your destination—what then?’
      ‘We shall have to cross that bridge when we get there,’ said Raavan.
      ‘O?’ said Ceirdain with some surprise.
      ‘There have been greater uncertainties in the history of Entira, Ceirdain’ said Raavan.
      ‘I suppose that is true,’ said the king. Then, after a moment’s pause, ‘Well, it would not hurt for me to send along a few archers to see you safely to Foireách, and perhaps a short distance beyond.’
      ‘That would be acceptable,’ said Raavan.
      ‘I will assume that you already have established the number and the names of those that will steal into the blackness of Hélethrôn?’ said the king.
      ‘Yes,’ said Raavan. ‘These are they,’ he continued with a gesture toward the companions, ‘and the number I think must not be increased, for stealth must be our most prized weapon in this endeavour.’
      ‘Indeed,’ replied Ceirdain as he gazed momentarily at the companions. When his eyes fell upon the Elflings, however, he paused. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, and then he looked away as though trying to recall some item of great import from the depths of his vast memory.
      Presently he said, ‘There is something which you need to see before you go, Raavan.’
      ‘Very well,’ said the wizard. ‘We’ll need to be expeditious about it, though, for it is nigh time for us to be on our way.’
      ‘Of course,’ said Ceirdain. ‘I will have lunch prepared for us as well. And as to your provisions: if you have any needs, my servants will see to them before you are off.’
      ‘We would be grateful,’ said Raavan.
      ‘Then, let us go down now,’ said the king.
       
       
      They descended the stairs to the lower ledge, the king and his guards leading the way. Stepping onto the rolling clêf the companions then made their own way from tree to tree back toward the king’s räst, with Airi once again accompanying them at a distance. Ceirdain himself was transported via canoe while the others navigated the crooked line of undulating spans.
      The king’s räst was very fine and even surprisingly spacious for a tree house. The circular outer wall was lined alternately with windows and bookshelves filled with many ancient-looking books and scrolls. A number of musical instruments lay about, including flutes and whistles, violins and violas, and a magnificent gold harp that Talen lamented he would likely not have time to hear. There also were several birds present—pet birds, apparently—yet, they were not caged, but rather were free to come and go as they pleased.
      Ceirdain issued orders to his servants in Elvish and then they all descended to the landing below and entered their canoes once again. The king’s canoe was larger and rather more elaborately decorated than were the others, and it was expertly rowed by two of the king’s servants who propelled the vessel quickly through the water with what appeared to be a minimum of effort. The others strained at the oars to keep up with the lead boat, till after some ten minutes they arrived at another landing where they again moored their crafts.
      From this landing a boardwalk led toward the north for some distance till it reached a bank of dry land. This continued on and widened till the swamp was completely left behind.
      Now they followed a trail that wound among the teldarin trees. Ceirdain explained that they now were in the most ancient part of the forest, the very heart of Merethir where most of the trees were ancient teldarins . The felling of these trees had long been prohibited by the Elves, for though this was a tree with an exceptionally long lifespan it also was very poor at regeneration. Indeed, many of the glades which forest fires or unsanctioned felling had centuries ago produced showed still no sign of recolonisation.
      All about them the gnarly trunks and boughs were abundantly decorated with all manner of mosses and fungal conks, the latter coming in many shapes and colours, from off-white to bright yellow or orange. Above their heads the sun’s rays strove to filter through the leaves of red and yellow that soon would litter the forest floor. Till then that space was occupied by last year’s crop of leafy detritus as well as a peculiar type of sprawling bush that also bore the marks of extreme old age.
      As the party moved quietly through the woods Talen mused that though he had seen three great forests in the past year, none of the three resembled the other two to any significant degree. Though Merethir possessed a subtle beauty which set it apart from the gloomy destitution of Druadaneth, Talen saw that it yet fell far short of the lush vibrance of Arvalla. Still, he doubted not that the Elves of Merethir cherished their forest as deeply as did the many inhabitants of Arvalla, and he pondered for a moment what it would be like to be a wood Elf, to live among the trees and to know the trees in a way that the other races could hardly fathom.
      It was then that the company first became aware that they now were approaching a giant in the forest—an impossibly large teldarin tree that towered above all the others, a true giant among trees. The path which they followed took them straight toward this behemoth. Soon they had come to another well-worn path which circled completely round the great tree.
      Now as they stopped to gaze at it they saw that it was nearly too large to be taken in all at once. So thick was its trunk that were it to be felled and carved into a great ship it would rival the vessel in which the company had sailed from Valassea. When the trunk reached the height of the surrounding forest it split into many branches to shade the surrounding trees with proud, broad leaves. The roots formed great ridges in the earth so that wooden stairways had been constructed over them wherever they intersected the encircling path. And the leaves themselves were enormous, nearly large enough to completely enwrap a man’s head.
      But not all of the branches bore leaves, for many of them were but snags, their wood split open to reveal their decaying interior. A number of the roots also were clearly rotting, a sure sign of failing health for any tree. Along the path encircling the colossus were set wooden benches at regular intervals, and upon several of these sat Elves who looked on with long faces as though mourners at a funeral. Talen noticed that no birds sang, and no one spoke. The only sound was that of a breeze rustling gently among the canopy.
      ‘The Meretree,’ said Raavan as they arrived at the great tree.
      ‘Yes,’ confirmed Ceirdain. ‘The heart and soul of Merethir. Brought from Sulunerea some eight thousand years ago, he now is withering, dying where he stands. His roots barely are able to support his enormous frame. One day soon I fear there shall be a loud crashing in the forest the likes of which has never been heard in Merethir, nor perhaps in any forest in Entira, or in the world. The Meretree will fall, and when it does, I fear the forest will be bereft of its vital life force.
      ‘I do not know if our people can withstand such a loss. Already there are whisperings of a return across the seas. Such is never spoken in my presence, but I know it is ever on their minds. They can feel the pain of the tree, as do I. And it is wondered whether the passing of the Meretree might be linked to deeper changes taking place across Entira—more far-reaching changes, if you see what I mean. I fear the end of an age is approaching, and perhaps the end of much more than that.’
      ‘The Dryads of Arvalla,’ said Valainis: ‘have you consulted with them?’
      ‘I have sent for them,’ replied Ceirdain. ‘They will not come. They have their own trees to tend, and will not risk the journey. We have our own maidens of tree lore who come every evening to water and caress the roots. At night they climb into his branches and sing the ancient charms of growth and wood-wisdom. Yet, no sign have we seen that the trend can be reversed. These many weeks have I been searching for a sign.’
      ‘A sign cannot always be found by searching for it,’ said Raavan.
      ‘It is exactly as you say, friend Raavan,’ replied the king.
      Now Ceirdain led the companions round the back of the tree to follow another path leading away from the withering giant. They walked for some distance in silence. They still were surrounded mostly by teldarin trees with here and there a stray firian striving to push its head up through the canopy.
      After a time they came again to the end of the forest, where the mountain rose nearly straight up to bar their way west. Here they turned onto a trail that ran along the edge of the cliff. Before long they had come to the entrance to a wide cave. The king’s guards lit torches and then into the cavern they all were led.
      ‘What place is this?’ asked Raavan.
      ‘Thousands of years ago there dwelt in this cave a seeress ,’ replied Ceirdain: ‘a woman with the othersight. She was no Elf woman, yet often her prophecies held great significance for the Elves, and often she shared with us her dreamy visions. Upon the walls of this cave she painted many scenes from her prophetic dreams, for she wisely foresaw that many of the events depicted therein would not come to pass till long after her own death.
      ‘There is one in particular which I have always found very intriguing, though its significance has evaded me till today. I think you will see what I mean. It is just down here a bit further.’
      They had now gone quite far into the cave. Round several more twists and turns Ceirdain led them till they came at length to a wide gallery. The walls were flat but oddly-shaped, and each of them bore a large mural, each depicting a different scene. Ceirdain directed their attention to one in particular which covered the largest of the walls.
      In the centre of the painting was a large figure robed in black, and all about him were strewn the bodies of dead warriors. On his shoulders sat two demons. In his hand he held a large black rock from which smoke thickly billowed, and over his head shone a black sun. Standing amidst the corpses of tall men were several small figures having clearly Elven features. In their hands they held arrows knocked to bowstrings, all pointed toward the dark figure in the centre. Yet, one of the small Elves held a shiny, ivory-hilted blade and with this he appeared to be hacking at a thin black strand that stretched from one side of the mural to the other. At one end of the strand was drawn a short series of runes.
      ‘Do you see those small figures there?’ said Ceirdain. ‘Those I always took for Elf children, as have all who have looked upon this wall, I believe. Yet I now think these must instead be Elflings.’
      ‘Elflings!’ exclaimed Talen.
      ‘Yes, I think you’re right,’ said Raavan peering more closely at the artwork. ‘They’re not quite proportioned right for Elven children, are they?’
      ‘And look there at that sword which this one is wielding,’ said the king.
      ‘Falco, show me that sword you are carrying,’ instructed Raavan.
      Falco drew forth the blade which he had found in the hidden cave at Valassea. It shone brightly in the torchlight.
      ‘It has an ivory hilt, just as in the picture!’ exclaimed Berethir.
      ‘Yes, and I sense that this is no ordinary blade,’ assessed Ceirdain.
      ‘You are quite right about that,’ said Raavan as Falco handed the ancient weapon to the Elven king, ‘for it bears the rune of Valainator, as Caelebrin and I discovered at Valassea.’
      ‘Yes, but there is something more,’ said the king, ‘something strange, which I cannot clearly discern.’
      ‘King Caelebrin said it probably had a bane-spell upon it,’ said Falco.
      ‘Possibly,’ said Ceirdain. ‘Yet, I sense that there may be rather more to it than that.’
      ‘So, what does it all mean?’ said Berethir gesturing toward the painting.
      ‘Well,’ said Raavan, stepping toward the mural, ‘if the black figure is meant to be Silgoth, then this thin strand likely represents the Thread, for it passes through the Deathlord and no other. Beyond that, exactly what it portends, and whether there is any instruction to be gleaned from it I cannot say right at the moment. If I had more time I would stay here and study it for a day or two. Unfortunately, we don’t have the time.’
      ‘Yes, we need to be on our way,’ agreed Alatar.
      ‘It is good that you thought to show this to us, Ceirdain,’ said Raavan. ‘I believe there is a message here for us, but it is one we will have to ponder as we make our way toward Tath.’
      With that they all left the cave and were led by Ceirdain and his attendants back to the Meretree. Passing by this sad giant they followed another trail to a place where a large white gazebo stood surrounded by a circular line of teldarin trees. The companions found that their steeds were tethered nearby and were attended by several Elves who had brought provisions for the party. Lunch was set on the table in the gazebo where they all sat to eat a hurried meal, for they feared that they already had spent too much time here, though none who were seeing Merethir for the first time regretted their coming.
      After lunch they saw to the provisions which Ceirdain had provided, and made ready to mount up and ride north. Ceirdain introduced the two Elven warriors—Taoren and Valataque—who would accompany the party as far as Foireách Pass. They also would guide the party along the same path which the Elven scouts to Foireách would follow on their return, so that they could gather advance intelligence from them when they were met on the road. With that, they were ready to depart.
      ‘There is one more thing, Raavan,’ said Ceirdain, ‘which I meant to tell you earlier.’
      ‘What is that?’ asked the wizard.
      ‘An urgent message arrived recently from your brother Telion,’ said the king. ‘He says it is absolutely essential that you travel immediately to Mornea.’