“Even so,” said the Dara, “with many Draedani among the foe would they not pose a dreadful risk?”
“They would,” replied Aylis. “Yet my father says that it would require a very powerful Black Mage to summon each one from Grygar, and for a number of Dread Ones to be called, it would take many powerful dark Wizards. Modru, Durlok, mayhap Ordrune: they were powerful enough to do so. But they were in a class of their own; yet all three are now dead. Mayhap there is not a living Black Mage powerful enough to draw forth a Gargon from the Demon Plane, much less enough to summon several.”
A look of relief swept over the faces of many in the assembly, for they well knew the terror such monsters could bring.
A ginger-haired Alor asked, “Aravan, what are the plans for rotation of Lian and Dylvana in and out of the Black Fortress company? It cannot be pleasant living upon Neddra.”
“For the nonce, Theril, by choice that duty falls to our kindred on the High World; they cite the fact that it has been long since they were in battle against the Rupt, whereas the Dylvana and Lian on Mithgar have since engaged in two great wars-the Winter War against Modru, and the War of the Dragonstone against the Fists of Rakka and the Golden Horde of the so-called Dragonking-while they sat idle on Adonar. . through no fault of their own, I add, for in those times the Planes were yet sundered one from the other.”
At Aravan’s side, Tuon said, “Would that we of the Darda Galion ward had been in those battles, those of us who were here at the time. Yet we could not leave the Larkenwald undefended.” Tuon smiled and shook his head and added, “Though with the small company I had after Inarion and the others went unto the High Plane, we would have been hard-pressed to defend this realm against a force of any size.”
“Thou wert here in the Eldwood when Bair and I crossed to the Larkenwald from Adonar?” asked Aravan.
Tuon nodded. “Aye, though on patrol when the Dawn Rider and thee and the silverlarks came, though afterward Silverleaf told us of the event that he and the Dylvana had seen here in Wood’s-heart.”
When the questions had run their course, with Aravan and Aylis responding, Tuon called for a halt, for the mark of noon had come. Then Aylis and Aravan joined Tuon for a midday meal. As they retired to a bench under the spread of one of the giants, “Your weapon, Tuon,” said Aylis, gesturing at the dark spear Tuon set aside, “its aura bears strange ‹fire›.”
“ ’Tis named Black Galgor,” Tuon replied. “Some say it has a destiny to fulfill, though none knows what it might be.”
“What of the Well of Uajii?” asked Aravan.
Tuon shrugged. “Mayhap that was Black Galgor’s destiny, though Silverleaf claims it was his arrows brought down the wyrm, while Halid claims it was his great shamsheer did the creature in.”
“You must tell me this tale,” said Aylis, curiosity filling her gaze.
“Aye, that I will,” said Tuon. But then he shook his head, saying, “ ’Twill pale by comparison to the story of the Dawn Sword. Hai, would that I had seen that blade.” He glanced at Black Galgor and then at Aylis. “I ween its aura was filled to bursting with what you name ‹fire›.”
“Nay, not that sword,” said Aylis. “Though it was a token of power, it had no ‹fire› whatsoever.”
“But it slew Gyphon,” protested Tuon.
“Aye, it did,” agreed Aravan. “But Bair, too, saw no aura on it.”
“Nor did my father, Alamar,” said Aylis. “Nor did Dalor and Branwen, who were there as well. Father thinks mayhap that was its power, for all other things I have ever seen have had at least a flicker of aethyr, yet the sword had none. And mayhap by having no aura whatsoever, that’s why it could not be diverted by Gyphon, and why it could penetrate his ‹shield› and rip his ‹fire› from him.”
“Where now is that fabled blade?” asked Tuon.
Aravan shrugged. “ ’Tis gone forever, down into the Abyss along with Gyphon and Ydral and the Crystal Cavern and most of the Great Swirl and a monstrous gulp of the Sindhu Sea.”
Two days after, Aylis and Aravan rode out from Wood’s-heart and headed northward. They were bound for Drimmen-deeve, or as the Drimma called it, Kraggen-cor. They crossed the Cellener and late that eve came to the Quadrill, where they turned their mounts to follow along that watercourse. Two more days passed ere they emerged from the forest and came into sight of the Grimwall Mountains lying some four leagues to the west, the dark peaks heretofore shielded from view by the massive boles of the trees. The range ran beyond seeing to north and south; grim in its fastness it was, and said to be filled with the dens of Foul Folk. Yet those fetid holes lay not nigh the Eldwood, nor in the sweep of Drimmen-deeve, for neither Elves nor Dwarves abided Spawn to live in their immediate grasp. Southward the mountains ran toward the Great Escarpment, forking in twain: the main spine to turn westerly and head for far-off Gothon and Tugal and Basq to finally end in Vancha, the other to dwindle into the Gunarring, to arc about the land of Gunar and eventually rise once more to rejoin the main run of the range. Northward the peaks ran toward Gron and Jord, to turn easterly and flow all the way to Jinga and nearly reach the Shining Sea. But in the distance, mayhap three or so days away at the pace they were riding, they could see four peaks towering above the rest-’twas the Quadran, consisting of Greytower, Grimspire, Loftcrag, and Stormhelm, this last towering above all.
Below these four mighty mountains lay their goal-the Dwarvenholt of Drimmen-deeve-and Aravan and Aylis heeled their horses and rode onward, leaving Darda Galion behind.
14
JOURNEY TO THE EROEAN
LATE SPRING 6E1
“I can see why Greytower is so called,” said Aylis, pointing at the ashen rock of that peak, “and the blackness of Grimspire would seem to give that mountain its name. But given the tint of the stone, I would think Loftcrag would be called Bluecrag or Skycrag, while ruddy Stormhelm ought to be called Bloodhelm or some such.”
“ ’Twas Humankind that gave them those names, hence I cannot say why they are called as they are. Elves, on the other hand, name them respectively, Garlon, Aevor, Chagor, and Coron.”
“Coron, as in the High King of Elves?”
“Aye, for it is the mightiest mountain in the Grimwall.”
Aylis laughed. “You think much of Elvenkind to name it so.”
“Ah, Chier, I did not say it was the mightiest mountain in all of Mithgar, for I have seen giants of mountains in the Jangdi Range.”
Again Aylis laughed and added, “I take it that Elvenkind is not the mightiest in all of Mithgar, then.”
“Oh, my love, surely I would not say that,” replied Aravan, and his laugh joined hers.
Again Aylis looked at the four peaks. “What do the Dwarves call them?”
“Uchan, Aggarath, Ghatan, and Ravenor.”
“And Drimmen-deeve lies under those four?”
“Aye,” replied Aravan. “And it is a mountainfast no foe could penetrate until the Gargon was set free from the Lost Prison. Then it lay open to enemies, though only the Rupt took advantage, for they were sent to occupy the Deeves by Modru. ’Twas he who summoned the Draedan to deal with the Drimma.”
“Ah, again Gargons,” said Aylis.
“Shall I tell thee the tale? How the Drimma, when mining starsilver, weakened the wall of the Gargon’s Lair? I know but part of it, not all.”
“Nay, love, let me ‹see› for myself; then I will tell the whole of it to you.”
“Ah, for the nonce I had forgotten thy calling,” said Aravan with a smile.
Aylis’s gaze swept over the four peaks of the Quadran. “A formidable fastness, you say?”