Illengond Read online

  A dark shadow passed over Thimeon’s face as he remembered the pain of his parting from them. “Not all were unhappy to see me go.”

  “Maybe some did not realize until you were gone,” Tienna said, “but they depended on your leadership.”

  “I’m sorry I left,” Thimeon replied. “I missed you too. And maybe it would have gone differently if I had stayed with you. I learned much in Citadel, though maybe less than I hoped. The treasure chamber had been ransacked. Koranth discovered it, and destroyed the knowledge held there.”

  Tienna shook her head sadly. “That is a great loss.”

  “Greater maybe than we can know,” Thimeon replied. “Still, I learned something from one of the prince’s old teachers. He has studied the lore deeply. He talked to me about the stone I gave to Cane. The Henetos he called it. He said it was not supposed to be worn by one of the gifted. Cane should not have taken it from me, and I should not have allowed him to have it. I erred in all that I did.”

  Tienna shook her head. “That is not how I heard it. It is true that we could have used your wisdom and courage, but you cannot be blamed for Cane’s pride. Or for my pride,” she added. “Dhan told me of your courage in rescuing him, and in leading their escape. He would still be in the dungeons of Citadel were it not for you. He told me also of the two treasures you brought from Citadel, and of his old teacher Borodruin. He told me how you rescued Chal-char’s people. Perhaps Gale Enebe would be destroyed if you hadn’t gone to their aid. How could I begrudge your departure from us when you accomplished so much?”

  “I don’t know what I accomplished,” Thimeon replied. “We are trapped under a mountain. Chal-char is dead.” He reached to his side with his free hand and lifted the ancient blade onto his lap. Both of them gazed at it. “If Borodruin is right, this sword was intended for Cane. You came here for nothing. We all came for nothing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you see?” Thimeon replied. “The sword was the reason I called you here. Borodruin believes it was forged to enhance Cane’s power. Legends say it is a formidable weapon against the might of the Daegmon when it is in the possession of the one with his gift. But without him, it is worthless.”

  “You are sure of this?”

  Thimeon sighed. “I know very little. Only what I have heard from Borodruin and what I read in this book. The book speaks in poems about the All-Maker. There are hints also about the Daegmons and the Daegmon-Lord. Nothing about weapons.”

  “Then how do you know about it?”

  Thimeon was silent for a moment as he fingered the blade. “Borodruin made a guess based on other ancient lore and on where he found it. Most of that lore may now be lost—destroyed by Koranth after our escape. Yet I have reasons to believe that Borodruin was right. His other guesses have proven true. And there is this, also. One day during our own journey the sword became hot and glowed in our hands. When I touched it, I had a vision of you fighting, and of Cane in great trouble. Then it went cold.”

  Tienna’s eyes widened. “You think it went cold because Cane died?”

  Thimeon shrugged. “What other explanation is there?”

  “What will you say to the others, then?”

  “I don’t know. What shall I say?”

  Tienna paused. “I’m not sure. But I do not think you have failed. I think we have been led for a purpose to just where we are right now, at the heart of Illengond. I think you were the central person in helping us to get here.”

  “Is that what I tell everybody else?” Thimeon asked with a self-deprecatory laugh. “I don’t think they will be comforted.”

  “If you believe it, they will,” Tienna replied. Then she sighed. “But maybe it isn’t the answer. Maybe there is something else to say to them. Have you found nothing of hope in that ancient book?”

  “One thing I know is that we cannot remain here forever. We are out of food. Yet to leave—to go toward a battle where defeat is almost certain?”

  “Is it so certain?”

  “I do not need Elynna’s sense to tell me. Somewhere outside the mountain are at least four Daegmons waiting for us. Maybe five. And the Gaergaen also. They are there waiting—waiting to destroy the last of the gifts. Then their victory of Gondisle will be complete, and hope will not arise again for many generations of men.”

  “But even then, it would arise,” Tienna said. “Even if we lose this war and all of us are destroyed, hope will arise again. In the end, evil is just a passing thing.”

  Her words surprised Thimeon. He heard something familiar in them— an echo of what he had read in the book. “Why did you say that?”

  “I said it because it is true,” Tienna replied. “And you did not answer my question. Have you not found hope in what you read?”

  “I read many things. I read that the race of men once walked with the All-Maker on his holy mountain, and that one day we will do so again. Are these words of hope? Yes. But the book says not when that day will come to be, nor does it give any certainty that it will come at all. Only a poem of promise. I read also that the world is full of pain, and that seems undeniable. The Daegmons may be thrown down, but until some future age when the All-Maker comes back to this mountain they will rise again—as they have in this age.”

  “Do you think they have grown more powerful?” Tienna asked.

  “No, but we are weaker. Many of the gifted were killed before we even knew a battle was upon us. And in past wars, the folk of Gondisle united to defeat the enemy. Now our own king has sided with evil and fights against us. It is not only the Daegmons and their kin waiting outside. Golach and El-Phern and the armies of the king also encamp against us.”

  “That may be so,” Tienna acknowledged. “The Undeani war band that betrayed us may be out there too.” But then she reached out with her other hand and took Thimeon’s hand in both of hers. “But what is their might compared with that of the All-Maker?”

  Thimeon sighed. “I have believed that all my life. Now I’m not sure. I’m afraid I’ve led us to our death. How do I know? How can I know that the All-Maker is real, and not just a figment of my imagination? Is the Great Myth true, or just a lie?” He paused, and Tienna looked as though she were about to reply. But before she could speak, Thimeon went on in a softer voice. “If the All-Maker is real, where has he been all this time? Where was he when our villages were destroyed, our friends and family killed, and even our best-intentioned plans proved futile? How can we know that what we’ve put our faith and hope in is true?”

  Tienna did not answer at once. She held Thimeon’s hand in hers for several moments before speaking. “You can’t, I suppose,” she said. “But in any case, you must act, and waiting will not help. The enemy is not going to disappear. If we’re going to die, let us go out and face it and die unashamed. There are some tasks it is better to attempt and fail than never to attempt.”

  “That, too, I know,” Thimeon answered. He started to rise and prepare himself for what he must do.

  But Tienna did not let him go just yet. She rose with him and kept her hand in his. “Thimeon,” she said in a soft voice. “If it helps you to know this, I trust you.”

  “Thank you,” Thimeon replied, turning to go.

  “And I love you too,” Tienna added, pulling him back. She leaned forward and kissed him.

  34

  WHAT MUST BE DONE

  Elynna awoke and rubbed her eyes. She would have rolled over and gone back to sleep, if only to avoid the thought of what lay ahead, but her whole body was stiff and achy and the rock floor of the cavern was too hard to lay upon any longer. She sat up and looked around. Her brother still slept beside her. She would treasure the conversation following their reunion, full of pain, but also healing and forgiveness. Lyn was broken now, somehow, but at least he was her brother again. She would never forget Thimeon for bringing him back to her.

 
She pulled her eyes off Lyn and looked around. Most of the others were awake. Some sat staring up at the rock roof or down at their feet. Others gazed blankly into the distant dim recess of the cavern. Only Thimeon and Tienna were engaged in conversation. She watched them a moment, wondering what they were talking about.

  Little though she desired to admit it, she had missed Thimeon. She had missed him dearly. She had missed his leadership, but even more she had missed his attention to her, despite how often she had rebuked him for it. Her attempts to dismiss him from her thoughts after his departure had failed. Now he was back. She wondered if he still felt for her the way he had. She hoped…

  What did she hope? And what would she say to him? Apologize for how she had treated him? Thank him for what he had done for Lyn?

  She watched him closely. His quiet conversation with Tienna came to an end. He rose to his feet. Elynna started to rise also, ready to intercept him wherever he was going. She had begun the healing of one old wound. Perhaps the time had come to heal another. Perhaps… Perhaps there would be more than mere healing. She imagined herself putting her hand gently on his shoulder as they spoke. She imagined his hand on her arm.

  Then she saw Tienna lean forward and kiss him, and all her words and hopes left her mouth.

  A minute later Thimeon came walking straight toward Elynna. She wanted to turn and run, but she planted her feet on the rock. He stopped in front of her. Their eyes met and locked. Elynna looked away first.

  “It is good to see you,” Thimeon said softly. “I’m sorry for how much your company suffered. Theo and Tienna both told me something of your tale, and your sorrows.” His voice held genuine sympathy, but it also seemed more distant, Elynna thought. “I grieve for all your losses,” he continued. “They were good people. I know you cared for Cane especially.”

  Cane, Elynna thought. Yes. Had it been that obvious? But Cane had never cared for her. Not as she had wanted him to. “Thank you,” she said aloud, because she could think of nothing else.

  Thimeon stood awkwardly for a moment, then continued. “We must gather. All of us. I don’t know what our next step is, but we must decide, and we should decide together. It cannot be an accident that we met.”

  Elynna felt a pang of guilt, though she didn’t know why. “We would have tried to find you. Our pursuers gave us no chance.”

  “No. Nor did ours,” Thimeon replied. “And yet here we are, together. Let us wake any who sleep and then gather together beneath the torches. I think it would be good if we share our stories with each other, but it should be done in brief. We may draw what wisdom we can from those tales, and then decide what we are to do next. Even if that is only to wait.”

  Elynna took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said.

  Thimeon looked confused. “For what?”

  Elynna had somehow made it through her reunion with Lyn without weeping. Tears had pooled in her eyes, slipped down her check, wet her neck. Yet she had kept them under control. Now tears welled up against the dam. She fought them briefly. “For bringing Lyn to me,” she replied. “He told me you knew who he was.”

  She turned away quickly and knelt down beside her brother, as though to wake him. She could feel her shoulders shake with silent sobs. She hoped Thimeon did not see.

  After a minute, she glanced up furtively. Thimeon was gone. She spotted him by the wall near the torches, standing over a young woman who lay curled up with a cloak over her legs. Elynna had noticed her before, when the two companies had first come together. She was hard to miss. Young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and strikingly beautiful with long flowing black hair and hazel eyes. Her high cheekbones had reminded Elynna of Hrevia, but otherwise the girl had softer features than the Anghare. Hers was the sort of beauty that made Elynna jealous. Yet she could not turn her eyes away. Thimeon had spoken of a sister. Could that be her? Elynna could see his expression in the torchlight as he looked down on the sleeping figure. It was the kind, protective gaze of an older brother. He looked upon the girl like Elynna had once looked at her brother, many years ago when he had been the smaller of the two.

  Finally, Thimeon bent down and put his hand lightly on the girl’s shoulder, speaking something quietly. She opened her eyes, looked back into his face, and smiled.

  Elynna turned away. She looked back at her own brother. His sleeping expression looked more peaceful than she had seen it in a long time. She gently shook his shoulder. He didn’t move. She shook it more firmly. Still he did not move. She gave it a hard shake. “Wake up,” she said. He groaned and rolled over.

  Several minutes later, the members of both companies gathered by the wall around the torches. Thimeon stood near a torch secured chest high in a crevice. Braga stood to his right, along with Prince Dhan. Tienna sat on the rock floor in front of them. Elynna took a place standing on the other side of Thimeon from the prince. The others all sat within a half-circle, except for Namha who stood near the outer edge, his face implacable.

  “Prince,” Thimeon said, “will you lead this gathering?”

  The prince shook his head. “You brought us together. I trust you to lead us.” Thimeon looked like he was about to object, but the prince forestalled him. “The title of prince means nothing here. Or it means nothing good. You are our leader.”

  Thimeon nodded. “Let us begin, as briefly as we can, by introducing our companies to one another. Though it remains to be decided what our next step is, I believe from this point onward we must remain as one.”

  Thimeon turned to Braga and asked him to introduce the Undeani. Braga nodded. Gesturing toward each in turn, he introduced his followers by name: Braga, Breanga, Arreg, Jama, Krag, Kreeg. Elynna saw the catch in his throat when he came to Regon. Was it because of his love for her? Or was he thinking still of the loss of his nephew Amark, the name that should still have been in his list? When he was done, Thimeon said something to them in their own tongue. Several of them smiled.

  Thimeon then turned to Elynna. “And the rest of your company? Though I know you all save for two, the rest of my companions do not.”

  Elynna looked around. She had to see the faces of her companions to remind herself who still lived. She introduced them each by their race, starting with the Anghare, then the Plainsfolk, the Ceadani, the Andani, the lone Southlander, and last of all her own people, the Fisherfolk of Westwash. It felt good to feel the names on her tongue, and to affirm that these, at least, still lived. She wanted to speak the names again. Cathros. Aram. Hrevia. Nahoon. Beth. Keet, Tienna. Namha, the last of the Amanti. Noab. Noaem. Anchara. Bandor. Theo. Lluach. Falien.

  The prince followed Elynna and introduced his own small band. “These are my companions,” he said. “Lieutenants Kachtin, Banthros, and Jhaban were all imprisoned with me, along with Duke Armas.” Four men each nodded in turn or lifted a hand in greeting. The three officers all looked younger than thirty, fit and strong, and dangerous. Elynna was certain that Kachtin and Banthros were Northlanders. Jhaban had darker skin, like the heads of grain on the marsh grasses. He was slimmer than the others, and handsome. The duke was bulkier than the officers, and might have been a little older, but he looked friendly.

  “And my rescuers Kayam, Siyen, and Thimeon,” the prince continued. Kayam and Siyen both sat near the back of the circle, where their faces flickered in strange light. Kayam looked like a soldier. He had scars, and a harsh look about him. Elynna already knew Siyen. She had earlier abandoned the company. How had Thimeon found her in Citadel? And what would keep her from abandoning the company again?

  “Corandra and her sister Jhonna joined us in Citadel,” Dhan continued. “Without their aid we might not have escaped and certainly would not have escaped as well supplied as we did.” Elynna looked again at the two young women who sat off to one side behind the officers. Corandra’s eyes were on the prince but Jhonna was looking at Thimeon.

  “And our friends Cathwain and Gaelim from the Ceadani
village of Gale Enebe. These are all. As for me, though once I was prince of Gondisle, that title I no longer claim nor desire. It is my hope to redress the wrongs done by my father and by the powers at Citadel, but whether I ever again claim the title of prince is very uncertain. Call me Dhan.”

  Elynna paid little heed to the prince’s final words, however. At that moment her gaze passed over her brother, who sat in the shadows against the wall beyond Cathwain staring down at his own feet. These are all, the prince had said. Yet he had not introduced Lyn. Why? Elynna wondered.

  Braga interrupted her thoughts. “I once scorned our king and all who dwelt in Citadel. Yet I cannot judge you because the king fell to the power of the Daegmons. My own people have done the same. The Undeani betrayed Elynna and her company. Few though we are in number, we are eager to redress that wrong. Now tell us, what we can do?”

  Thimeon met Braga’s questioning gaze. All the other eyes turned to him as well. He took a deep breath. “That is why we are together. We must now decide our next step.”

  “What choices do we have?” Dhan asked. “And how do we decide from among them?”

  “As to your second question,” Thimeon answered. “I can only say that we must do what we must do, however grim the choices are. As to what those choices are, I have some guesses. Yet before I venture to share them, is there naught that we might learn from each other and from the battles we have already fought separately?”

  “Yes,” Bandor agreed. “If nothing else, I would hear what happened to you after you left. But there is more. From what I have heard, both our companies have fought battles against Daegmons. After our defeat it would bring us courage to hear of your victory at Gale Enebe.”

  “Whether a victory or not remains to be seen,” Thimeon replied, “but I will tell of it, and with the help of the prince, we will tell of other things that have happened since I left you many weeks ago. Maybe the tale will have some bearing on our decisions.”