Free Bastion of Darkness by R. A. Salvatore

Jeffrey DelGiudice had been gone from her for a score of years, she had given to him her heart, and he had given to Brielle her only child, Rhiannon, the lasting love.
    But when Brielle made love to Belexus that soft and quiet Avalon morning, she was able to put aside any feelings of guilt. It was too sweet, too pure, and too real to be denied. She loved Belexus and hated the thought that he would go from her now, but if he went out from Avalon and never returned without this one lovemaking, without the two of them revealing the truth of their feelings for each other, without the dropping of defenses, the ultimate joining … That, the witch could not bear.
    Later that morning, she walked Belexus to the edge of the forest, the narrow trail that led onto the field of Mountaingate, gateway to the Crystals. And there she kissed him again, softly, and then spun away, twirling in the soft light of morning, her gossamer gown blurring her graceful form, undefining the lines of Brielle until she blended fully into the fog and was gone.
    Gone from sight, but Belexus surely took the scent of Brielle, the taste of Brielle, the burning image of Brielle with him as he exited Avalon and started his long journey into the great and towering range.
    He was far up the mountain trail, having crossed the narrow field of Mountaingate and passed under the bended telvensil trees, their silvery bark lined with streaks of white, clinging snow, before he was able to clear his thoughts of the witch enough that he might consider the path before him. His travels could well take a month and more, just to get to the lair wherein lay the mighty sword. When Brielle had shown him the image of the glittering sword, her divining had also given him an outward clue of where it might be found: a peculiar outcropping of stone which, when viewed from a particular angle, resembled the profile of an old man. If Belexus could find that ridge of stone, he would be in the vicinity of the dragon’s cave.
    The Crystals were huge, though, with towering peaks,many inaccessible, and luck would have to be with him. Perhaps, he feared, the dragon’s cave had long been sealed; perhaps he would wind up standing atop it, oblivious and with no way to enter.
    The ranger growled the negative thoughts away. He had to try. He owed that, at least, to Andovar, and was certainly duty-bound to attempt it for the sake of all the world. Indeed the task appeared daunting, even overwhelming, but the prize, a weapon that might rid the world of the wraith of Hollis Mitchell, was worth the try.
    He was looking for speed and mobility, and thus Belexus had chosen to travel light, carrying only his sword, a pair of daggers and his bow, a pack with extra clothing, a warm blanket, and a waterskin strung about his neck and shoulder. His food, he would catch along the way, as he would build shelters from whatever material Nature offered to him. He was a ranger of Avalon, a prince among rangers, and if he had been dropped naked into the middle of the wintry Crystals, Belexus was confident that he could survive. Belexus believed that, with all his heart, and that was his greatest advantage.
    So his progress that first day was remarkable indeed, ascending the southern face of the first mountain in line, passing by the entrance to the secret tunnels that snaked to the hidden valley, the Silver City of the elves known as Lochsilinilume, or in the more common tongue, Illuma. And then higher, the ranger went, seeking his first vantage point of mountain majesty, that he might lay his initial course more clearly.
    He came upon a plateau on the northeastern face of the peak shortly before sunset, with the mountain range spread wide before him, mica rivers and fields of ice that gave the Crystals their name glittering in the slanting late-day rays. Belexus put down the wood he had collected on his travels, but he did not immediately start afire, suffering the cold winds for the sake of the splendid view. He