Free Elfhunter by C. S. Marks Page B

together with Magra—two powerful Elf-lords at
Ri-Aruin’s table. How different he had looked then!
    Rogond drew his long knife and cut Gelmyr down. They
laid him gently on the ground, as Galador began to examine him.
They were all horrified at the damage that had been done, as they
pieced together the manner of death from the tale the ruined body
told them. "So, this enemy was clever enough to approach an Elf
such as Gelmyr without being seen or heard, craven enough to break
his back so that he is helpless, and then cruel enough to hack him
to pieces while he is still alive. Yet at the last it kills
quickly? It is almost as if there is some vestige of honor amidst
the evil. It doesn’t make sense," said Rogond.
    "Perhaps it does," whispered Gaelen, as she bent over
Gelmyr’s ruined face. His once-beautiful blue eyes were difficult
to read; they were clouded over like pale moons, but Gaelen put
forth all her effort into searching their depths. Gelmyr had
possessed a powerful spirit, and in spite of his being nearly three
days gone, she could still sense a remnant of it. She took hold of
his cold hands and searched harder. The icy feeling washed over her
without warning, and she cried out in dismay, letting go of
Gelmyr’s hands as though they burned her.
    Rogond caught her as she swooned back, her eyes
closed, shaking with cold. None of them fully understood what she
had done, and they were confused and worried for her. Rogond tried
to lift her, but she suddenly came alive in his arms and pulled
away, leaping to her feet with her hands flung up before her as
though trying to ward something off.
    "Gaelen!" Nelwyn cried, rushing to her side and
forcing her to look into her eyes. "Come back to us!"
    Gaelen buried her face in her hands for a moment, and
then the shadow lifted from her as she turned to her friends, who
were standing transfixed by what they had just witnessed.
    Nelwyn approached her again, placing a hand on her
shoulder. "Did...did Gelmyr speak to you? What did you learn?"
Gaelen turned to Nelwyn with an expression of cold fury in her
eyes.
    "Yes, he spoke to me. What I learned is that this
enemy will not stop until every one of us is dead, and that he
would prefer to kill us one by one, at his leisure, in the worst
possible way. What I did not learn is why. Though, at the end,
Gelmyr thought he knew."
    They did not know what to do with Gelmyr. In truth,
he deserved to be brought back to Monadh-talam, where he was loved
by many, and laid to rest there. But that was not in their plan.
There were no stones to cover him with, and the ground here was
soft and damp, not suitable for burial. In the end, they decided to
give him to the chilly waters of the Ambros, which he loved. Gaelen
sang for him as they released him into the grey water. It carried
him gently until he finally slipped out of sight as it took him
under.
    After Gaelen finished singing for Gelmyr, she
returned to the base of the tree where they had found him. Her
steps were somewhat stiff as she walked to the base of the tall
beech and without warning slammed her fist into it. None of them
dared approach her for a few moments. Then Rogond placed a hand on
her shoulder.
     
    Her body stiffened, and he took his hand away.
Turning from him, she returned to the horses and slung her bow,
quiver, and other gear across her shoulders.
    "What do you think you’re doing?" asked Galador,
incredulous. "I’m tracking, Galador. I can bear my own things,
since I will be on foot from now on," she replied, as though it
should be obvious. She headed toward the mountains, determined in
spite of her fears, leaving the others to stare after her. Rogond
and Galador mounted the horses, pulling Nelwyn up behind Galador,
and they trotted after Gaelen. Rogond drew nigh her, leaping off
Eros and striding along at her side.
    "Keep the horses behind me, Tuathan. They will
trample and confuse the sign," she said.
    He reached over and grabbed her upper arm, forcing
her to stop.