The Witch's Daughter Part 20

"We have heard the tidings of war," Arien began. "And though they ring out far to the south, in the kingdom of man, their cry to the ears of Illuma is not diminished. We have come to know King Benador and his people as friends these last twenty years, and we will not forsake them in their dark hour."

"Still, we fear to leave our homes," Ryell added. "If the talons are on the march, might they not strike north as well? What protection would Illuma Vale find if our people are all away in the southland?"

"Yer fears are known to me," said Brielle, a bit uncomfortable with the gathering. Such politics were not usually the way of the Emerald Witch, but with Morgan Thalasi at the head of this invasion, these were not usual times. "We will address them before the council is ended. But first we should be hearing the words o' Belexus, for he alone among us has fought in the southland."

Then Belexus recounted his tale, from the rout in the western fields to the mad rush back to the river to the defense of the Four Bridges. All but Brielle blanched when he spoke of the Black Warlock, denial clear upon their faces. But Brielle dashed their hopes that the ranger might be mistaken in his guess.

"With me own eyes I have seen the specter of Thalasi," she a.s.sured them. "In the body of Martin Reinheiser, and even more powerful than last we knew."

"But Reinheiser is dead," Ryell argued. "He fell over the cliff to Blackamara. And Angf.a.gdul"-he used Thalasi's enchantish name-"was slain on the field of Mountaingate."

"A wizard is not so easily slain," Brielle reminded them all. "The Black Warlock has returned. I have battled with him meself."

"Then the talons have a powerful leader," Arien lamented, knowing beyond those flickering hopes that their cause was even more desperate now.

"Two leaders," Brielle corrected. "Another of the ancient ones walks Aielle." As soon as the others took the time to consider Brielle's words, they understood who she was referring to. There had been only four ancient ones, and now two-Billy Shank, off on his quest to find the wizard Ardaz, and Martin Reinheiser, the embodiment of the Black Warlock-were accounted for. If Jeff DelGiudice had somehow returned to Aielle, he most surely would have fought on their side. That left only one.

"Mitch.e.l.l," growled Bellerian. "Suren that one's a scourge on the world."

"And more so now," Belexus added. "No man is he, but a spirit o' the netherworld, an undead thing of great power. 'Twas he who killed Andovar, and nearly meself."

The words hung in the air like the weight of doom, bowing heads in dismay.

"But we are not lost!" cried Sylvia, Arien's fiery daughter. "Never before in all the world have the men of Calva and the elves of Illuma joined together against an enemy. And three wizards fight on our side."

"Truth in yer words," Bellerian piped in. "The Black Warlock has found himself some mighty foes indeed. He'll not be likin' the reception we'll be givin' to him when he tries again to cross the bridges."

"But can we go there?" asked Ryell, ever the pragmatic one. "What force does Angf.a.gdul hold in reserve in the Crystal Mountains, ready to fall upon the northern fields when the elves and the rangers have gone to the south?"

"Not to fear," said Brielle. She stood and walked to the center of the group. "Istaahl of Pallendara and meself have fought with Thalasi these many days, and it is our belief that the Black Warlock has erred in his attack. He did not get across the bridges quick enough, afore all the wide world learned of his presence."

"A ruse?" asked Bellerian.

"Nay, too many are with him," Brielle replied. "Thalasi did not figure on the resolve of the Calvans."

"Or on the presence o' yer daughter," Belexus reminded her.

"Me hopes are that the Black Warlock has not yet come to understand the power of Rhiannon," Brielle said grimly. Every minute of every day, the witch feared for her daughter, so exposed right beside the Black Warlock's army. "'Tis me feeling that Rhiannon'll have more to say in this war.

"But the bridges have been held," the witch continued, "to the rage o' the evil warlock. Thus he has summoned the wraith of Mitch.e.l.l, and more tricks he'll suren find. But Morgan Thalasi canno' go north, not nearen me domain, or south, where Istaahl holds the sea. He has committed his forces to the bridges, to the heart o' Calva, and if he means to turn his forces aside, he'll find them slowed and cut down by meself and me friend in Pallendara.

"But neither can we leave our domains," she explained. "The Black Warlock is strong indeed, and he does not end his a.s.saults on Avalon and on the Tower of Istaahl. Even as we sit here speakin', the White Mage o' Pallendara fights off another o' Thalasi's attacks." The others, having witnessed many strange storms raging over the western borders of Avalon, understood her reasoning and the seriousness of her words.

"It is only our closeness to our places of power that gives us the strength to keep Morgan Thalasi away, and so are we trapped here," Brielle explained.

"At least until Ardaz returns," Arien remarked. "The Silver Mage might turn the course of battle."

"He might indeed," agreed Bellerian. "But we must fight without that hope. With or without the aid of the Silver Mage, the Black Warlock and his pig-faced army'll be driven back to their holes!"

A determined chorus of agreement sprang up among the fearless a.s.sembly. All of them had known adversity in their lives-the elves had lived with it for centuries-and they would not surrender, whatever the odds. And none in the world so enjoyed fighting talons as the grim Rangers of Avalon.

"To the south, then!" cried Ryell. "King Benador is in need!"

"Aye," said Brielle. "Away ye all should go. Winter'll be no friend to the Black Warlock with his rabble army; the stalemate works against him."

"So he has created a new leader to get him across the river," Belexus agreed, painfully aware of the power of the wraith of Hollis Mitch.e.l.l.

"His hopes are to find the walls o' Pallendara afore the season's change," Brielle reasoned. "Me thoughts say he'll strike out hard afore many more days have pa.s.sed."

"Then he shall strike out against the army of King Benador, the army of Arien Silverleaf, and the warriors of Lord Bellerian!" Sylvia growled. "And woe is to him!"

"To the south, then!" cried Ryell. "And to the side of King Benador!"

All of them, Sylvia and Ryell included, had their doubts about the certainty with which the rallying words had been spoken. But none of them would speak those doubts aloud.

Now was not the time for the weak of heart.

Billy Shank watched the gathering dawn. Beside him, the great Pegasus grazed calmly. They had stopped only a couple of hours before, the urgency of their mission overruled by a needed rest. But already Calamus had regained his strength, and when the lord of horses saw Billy approaching, he stamped and agreed that it was time to depart.

Then they were up on the breezes again, climbing high into the morning sky, and all who saw them in their flight, mostly simple farmers of Calva's northern fields, looked upon them in amazement, not understanding the drama of the quest but well aware that this spectacle was merely an extension of the growing conflict along the river.

The world had changed so suddenly.

Billy kept the southeastern line of the Crystal Mountains to his left, cutting a course for the Great Forest, the largest woodland in all Aielle, where he would begin his search for the missing wizard. His only hope, Aielle's only hope, was that Ardaz would spot the Pegasus high up against the sky and reveal himself. The wizard had said only that he would be out beyond the Elgarde River, out in the uncharted wild lands, and Billy knew his chances of finding Ardaz's exact location were slim indeed.

But he had to try. Once again Ardaz had become a critical player in the hope of the world.

Out beyond the Elgarde, beyond the Great Forest, in lands unknown to the Calvans, to the Illumans, even to the wizards of Aielle, Ardaz picked his way among the rubble and tunnels of a deserted town. He had suspected all along that there were others in the world beyond its known borders, races not Calvan, Illuman, or talon, and now he had found his proof.

The wizard danced happily through the ancient ruins, thinking it grand that there was apparently much more to be learned about the world. His eyes did not turn back to the west.

He did not hear the call of Brielle and Istaahl, and could not know that the Black Warlock once again walked Aielle.

They rode out of Avalon with the rise of the next sun, to the blast of horns and the pounding thunder of hooves. On came the elves of Illuma, five hundred strong, their sleek steeds adorned in s.h.i.+ning armor and draped in lines of jingling bells. Arien Silverleaf led the way, his silvery armor and s.h.i.+eld glistening in the morning light, and his magical sword, Fahwayn, held high above him.

And beside the Eldar of Illuma rode Bellerian, the Ranger Lord, leading his own column of grim-faced, mighty warriors. Though they were but fourscore strong, none who had seen the Rangers of Avalon in battle underestimated their value.

Belexus waited at the edge of the wood as the column pa.s.sed, the fair witch at his side.

"So grand the preludes seem," Brielle remarked, but there was not a hint of awe in her voice. She understood the end result of such a charge. She had witnessed it before, and she knew that the grime and blood and tears would dull the s.h.i.+ne of weapons and armor, and that the mournful cry of a funeral horn outsounded the eager blare of heralding trumpets.

"We go because we must," Belexus replied. "We growl and shout and prance with our steeds because to do else would beat us before we e'er faced our enemy."

"But 'tis a sadness to know where the path will take ye all."

"Ayuh," Belexus agreed. He looked Brielle straight in the eye, his expression a mixture of tenderness and unyielding determination. "But sadder still would the endin' be if we ne'er trod that path. Were that it could be otherwise, me Lady, but the Black Warlock must be stopped and pushed back from the lands of Calva."

"And so he shall!" Brielle replied, her face brightening a bit. She reached out to run a smooth hand gently over the ranger's firm visage. "Know that I'll be lookin' for yer return, son o' Bellerian."

"And know that I shall return," Belexus a.s.sured her.

Brielle's concern did not diminish. She knew the vendetta that the ranger carried with him, and knew that he could not defeat Hollis Mitch.e.l.l. "Ye mean to find the wraith?" she asked bluntly.

Belexus looked away, unable to deny the question that rang out more as an accusation.

"Before, I have telled ye that the thing is beyond yer knowin' and yer power," Brielle said to him. "All me fears for ye are suren to come true if ye go against the likes o' the wraith o' Hollis Mitch.e.l.l."

"Andovar will be avenged," Belexus said grimly.

"Not to doubt," Brielle agreed. "But not by yerself, not now. Ye have no' the weapons to strike the wraith. Not yet."

"Then when?" Belexus snapped, a sudden fire in his pale blue eyes. "Give me the weapons, Brielle. Grant me the power to avenge the death o' me friend!"

Brielle shook her head helplessly. "I know not o' them," she admitted. "Nor even if they exist at all." Belexus started to turn away, but she grabbed his elbow and forced him to look at her. "The wraith is but a tool o' the Black Warlock," she said. "Stop Morgan Thalasi. Crush his wretched army and drive him back to the west and ye'll find yer revenge."

Belexus had no choice but to agree-for now. He had fought the wraith, had seen the hopelessness of the battle all too clearly. "Find me the weapons," he pleaded to Brielle again, and he swung up in the saddle of his mount, ready to join the column.

"The day will come," Brielle promised. "But remember yer cause above yer vengeance, son o' Bellerian. More's at stake then the fire in yer blood."

"I know me duty," answered Belexus, "to the rangers, and to the good folk o' the world."

"And come home again," Brielle said softly. "To Avalon, where ye belong."

"And I'm knowin' me duty to Brielle," Belexus continued. "I shall return to walk by yer side in Avalon, me Lady, and suren 'tis that very thought that'll carry me through the trials o' battle."

He kicked his powerful steed into motion and bounded off across the southern field.

Brielle could only watch him go and hope-for Belexus and for all the world.

And then she had to go again, for another storm had risen from the wastelands beyond the western borders of Avalon. Morgan Thalasi had come calling upon her forest once again.

Chapter 20.

Teamwork RHIANNON HAD NO trouble at all as she continued to make her way through the seemingly endless talon lines, though she did not know whether her inconspicuous movement was a matter of the talons' inattentiveness or an unconscious effort on her own part, using her magic to disguise her flight. However she managed it, the young witch finally got beyond the southern fringes of the talon encampment and was cutting a southwesterly course toward the Baerendel Mountains before the night was halfway through. trouble at all as she continued to make her way through the seemingly endless talon lines, though she did not know whether her inconspicuous movement was a matter of the talons' inattentiveness or an unconscious effort on her own part, using her magic to disguise her flight. However she managed it, the young witch finally got beyond the southern fringes of the talon encampment and was cutting a southwesterly course toward the Baerendel Mountains before the night was halfway through.

She had a general idea of where to find Bryan, but the land seemed vast indeed and the mountains held innumerable hiding spots, and the witch's daughter grew concerned with the wisdom of her decision. She could take care of herself, she knew, with or without the young hero, but without Bryan's understanding of the landscape, Rhiannon believed that she would be of little help to any refugees wandering out alone in the Baerendels.

But Rhiannon found the answer to her dilemma early the next day. A bluebird fluttered down to her as she slept on a mossy bed, recognizing her as a friend. When Rhiannon opened her eyes, she saw the thing hopping along the length of her arm, its head c.o.c.ked as it stared into her face.

"A good mornin' to ye," the young witch said with a sincere smile, glad to be greeted by so friendly a face.

The bird chattered a response and Rhiannon's eyes widened. She could understand it!

She had talked to birds, to all the animals, back in Avalon, but she had thought it a blessing of her mother's enchantment, not an ability of her own.

"So it's me own magic," she pondered, tapping a finger on her pursed lips. And then those lips spread into another smile as Rhiannon came to understand the implications of this particular ability. "Go get yer friends," she whispered to the bird. "I'm needin' to talk to ye all."

A short while later a dozen birds flitted all about the blueberry patch on the side of a mountain where Rhiannon had found her breakfast. She chatted a few "good mornings" with the avian creatures, then sent them off on a mission.

Before the sun had climbed very high in the eastern sky, the young witch had a growing network of spies soaring all about the land.

Bryan watched anxiously as two talons pulled their cart through a narrow gorge, two others flanking them. This would be a simple ambush, one of the easiest he had ever pulled, but the half-elf found himself jittery nonetheless. He gathered up a handful of arrows and crept down the rocky mountainside to the defensive bluff he had chosen earlier.

The talons came on unconcerned. Their standard marked them as a group from the south, from the Ballendul Mountains beyond the forest of Windy Willows, no doubt bringing supplies at the summons of the Black Warlock. Apparently they hadn't heard of the dangers to talons in this section of the Baerendels; Bryan's reputation wasn't as widespread as he had feared. He smiled at his continued good fortune and put an arrow to his bowstring as the cart neared the trip wire.

It was a simple trap: a loose stone along the rocky path holding down a length of cord, which in turn secured several boulders on the opposite cliff face. The cart b.u.mped across the loose trip stone, bouncing it up and releasing the cord. A moment later the boulders came cascading down the cliff, leaping higher with each thunderous rebound.

Bryan didn't expect to actually get any of the talons with the boulders, but the diversionary effect was well worth his efforts in putting the trap together. As the four beasts screamed and scrambled to get out of harm's way, Bryan set his bow into action, firing off three shots before the terrified talons even knew he was there. Two of the arrows found their marks, killing one talon and dropping another in writhing agony on the stony ground.

And as the remaining two talons turned to consider their fallen comrades, Bryan sprang down upon them.

The closest beast turned and charged, spear leading the way, as Bryan came down to ground level. But the talon was confused and it overbalanced as it roared in. Bryan fell backward, his s.h.i.+eld easily lifting the spear tip harmlessly high. Unable to break its momentum, the talon rolled right over the half-elf, and when Bryan completed his roll and came back to his feet, he had to pause and brace himself to pull out his sword, buried to the hilt in the unfortunate monster's gut.

The last talon launched its spear, but the heavy, unbalanced thing had little chance of connecting with the nimble half-elf. Bryan slipped right by it in its flight and charged out after the talon. It shrieked and fled back toward the wagon, where the small avalanche had ended.

"Too easy," Bryan muttered to himself as he closed the gap, and his words rang out as a warning in his own ears. Before he could consider them more closely, however, he found the truth of them painfully clear.

A spear caught him in the side.

Reeling and grasping the weapon to keep its bounce from tearing him apart, Bryan glanced back up the gorge, where five more talons, ambushers for the ambusher, were now coming on, howling with glee.

He knew he had gotten careless, had overestimated himself and underestimated his enemies. The talon at the wagon was still unarmed, but Bryan had no strength for any battles. He limped and scrambled to the side, to the cliff face, and put his back against it for support.

The talons closed in cautiously, not understanding the extent of the half-elf's wounds. They had indeed heard of the "ghost fighter," and were not so eager to plunge in at him, however a.s.sured their victory seemed.

But Bryan, hardly conscious, could only inch his way along the rough wall, hoping against reality that he would find some way out. He put a small thicket of growth, barely more than a knee-high bush and a finger-thin sapling, between himself and the talons before he found that he could go no farther.

Still the six talons took their time, fanning out around the half-elf in a semicircle. One threw a spear in, but its aim was not so good and Bryan managed to block it weakly with his s.h.i.+eld.

The largest of the talons, standing next to the spear thrower, slapped it on the head for wasting its weapon. Then the big beast, apparently the leader, took a bold step in, continuing slowly to within ten yards of Bryan, studying the sweat and anguish on his fair face.

Bryan could hardly see it. Tears glistened in his eyes. He had known all along that it would eventually end this way, but he never would have believed that he could feel such pain, or such terror. And the terror only heightened when he did finally focus on the big talon, its crude and wicked spear tip waving menacingly out in front.

Then the talon roared and charged, leaning over the spear. Bryan couldn't begin to get his s.h.i.+eld back up, and even if he had managed it, he had no strength to deflect such a heavy blow.

At full speed and only two steps away, the talon roared a cry of victory.

But then, in his daze, Bryan saw the shaft of the spear snap as if the weapon had been plunged into stone, and he heard the talon thump face first into a solid object.