Neither Gawain nor Allazar really understood Elayeen’s discomfort, and so simply accepted it as quaint elvishness on her part. But sit upon the steps she did, and quietly produced a veritable feast of meats and bread and cheese from her pack for them to share.
When little remained but crumbs and a few slices of beef, Allazar could contain himself no longer.
“What news, lady Elayeen, what news of the world did you have from Jarn?”
“Wait your turn, wizard,” Gawain asserted before Elayeen could answer. “I want to know all, from the moment you went galloping off through the trees.”
“In truth, there’s not much to tell. I followed the road, arriving in Jarn shortly after nightfall. The road into the town was held by Callodon guardsmen who had received orders to hold it, and to make all of us welcome on our arrival.”
“More pigeons from Brock, I shouldn’t wonder.” Gawain mumbled.
“So,” Elayeen continued, packing away what was left of the food. “I was greeted with great courtesy and consideration, and escorted at once to an inn, with stables. The Guard had commandeered the inn as their headquarters some weeks before my arrival, they said. There was hot food, a hot bath, mulled wine, then more hot food, and best of all a bed of softest duck-down…”
“There’s no need to describe every detail.” Gawain mumbled. “Besides, Allazar and I enjoyed many luxuries along the way, including a very exclusive charcoal-burner’s cabin well off the beaten track and quite unspoiled by careless sightseers.”
“Hmm.” The wizard agreed.
“Well,” Elayeen went on, unperturbed, “I slept well. Next morning I rose late, and there was a hot bath, and more hot food…”
“Enough, lest I command The Keeper of The Stick to beat you with it.” Gawain grimaced, and then smiled, and shook his head, the sadness of earlier faded beyond memory.
“Well there was, G’wain, and you said you wanted to know all.” Elayeen smiled, and laced her fingers with his. “But Jarn; I do not think it is as poor as you remembered. That morning there was a farmer’s market in the town square, and it seemed very popular.”
“The guards let you go sightseeing?” Gawain asked agog.
“They escorted me at my request, miheth, and were as concerned for my safety as you it seems. More perhaps,” she added, impishly, “Since they were there and you were not.”
Gawain sniffed, and mumbled something that sounded like ‘Dwarfspit.”
“But the people looked content enough I think. It was not thriving and bustling and full of life and gaiety, but the people were smiling and going quietly about their business.”
“With the Ramoth destroyed a year ago, and the worst of their offences fading into memory, I am sure many such towns will rebuild themselves anew.” Allazar announced. “People are often much more resilient than even they would imagine following a disaster, natural or otherwise. But my lady please, what news of our friends?”
Elayeen sighed. “What news indeed. I’m sorry, Allazar, I was as anxious for word of events from Ferdan and from all the kindred lands as you. What I received amounted to little more than rumour and speculation, with very few facts.”
Gawain remained quiet, staring at the home-stone at the centre of the circle.
“Surely the guards had news of Brock? I can well understand Captain Tyrane at the Pass knowing little, being so far removed from Jarn and the castletown, but surely at Jarn itself…?” Allazar trailed off, his face betraying worry and incredulity.
Elayeen shook her head, and brushed stray wisps of hair from her eyes. “It seems that the guard in Jarn were despatched from their barracks outside Callodon Castletown, on orders received directly from the Crown. From the time of their deployment they had only the occasional contact with their officers there, infrequent reports and dispatches by courier.”
“But there must be something…?” Allazar mumbled.
“Yes. I learned that shortly after we left Ferdan, a D’ith Sek wizard in Callodon Castletown was challenged on his way to a hastily-arranged meeting with Queen Elspeth. The wizard refused to comply with the orders of the guardsmen, who became suspicious and drew arms, but the wizard ran amok. He killed several dozen people in the courtyard and almost gained entry to the Keep before being shot in the back by a crossbow bolt and then promptly beheaded before he could do further harm.
“There have also been stories of similar atrocities in Juria, and some of the larger towns. There has been no official word, just tales from merchants and travellers, but they are all too easy to believe. Only Mornland and Arrun, it seems, have been spared such attacks.”
“They are such inoffensive lands,” Allazar sighed, “Gentle people with gentle pursuits, there’s not much of interest there for the brethren. There was no news from your own land, my lady?”
“No,” Elayeen sighed, “We have been so inward-looking and have guarded our borders so jealously for so long, there are few if any travellers and merchants to bring news from Elvendere. But there is more, news which you may welcome even less, though it be more travellers tales. If you would hear it?”
Allazar nodded solemnly. “Please.”
“Traders at Callodon reported passing south of the D’ith Hallencloister, on their journey from Arrun across the southern plains of Juria. They said at night, there were many streamers of lighting in the sky, though the stars were clear, and they reported the glow of fire and rumbling as if of thunder. Further, they later met a Jurian horse patrol, long-rangers, who had passed closer to the Hallencloister. The patrol said the gates were all drawn up, and no banners flew from the curtain walls or ramparts.”
“All the gates were drawn up?” Allazar gasped.
“So it was said. But Allazar, none of these reports could be confirmed by any officials at Callodon Castle, at least not to the knowledge of my escort at Jarn.”
“Yet I had imagined there would be strife within the ranks of the brethren,” Allazar sighed, as though his worst fears had come to pass. “If every gate has been raised and shut, then the D’ith Sardor himself must have given the order, to contain any rebellion within the walls, and prevent the dark traitors from fleeing into the world to spread more evil and destruction.”
“Or,” Gawain added ominously, “To secure the Hallencloister against our forces, and make of it a traitor’s citadel against us.”
“We will not know, I fear, not for some time. Nothing short of riding on the back of Graken could get you in there to find out. With all its gates drawn up, the Hallencloister is as impregnable as once was…” Allazar’s voice faded.
“As once was Raheen.” Gawain finished for him, and the wizard nodded.
They were silent for a time, and then Elayeen took a breath. “There is news that has been confirmed, however, though of what use it may be to us here and now I do not know. It seems that there was some dispute within the Council at Ferdan, about moving to a place of greater safety in Elvendere.”
Gawain gasped. “I can well imagine the dispute! Can you see Eryk of Threlland and his honour-guard and entourage marching down the road to Elvenheth! In full view of all!”
Elayeen smiled weakly. “Yet, I was told, in spite of the protests of wizards and advisors, the Council has indeed moved to Elvendere. I believe it was Lord Rak’s doing, only he could have persuaded King Eryk to take such a course.”
“And your father? He allowed it? Well, clearly he did, since you say the Council is now in Elvenheth?”
“No, not Elvenheth, mithroth, that is forbidden to all except elves. It is why you caused so much…consternation when you trespassed there to bring me out of faranthroth.”
“Oh. Where then?”
“Shiyanath. A province in the north east of Elvendere.”
Allazar’s chin visibly dropped in shock. “Shiyanath! Is that not the old winter palace of the Crown of Elvendere?” he asked, wide-eyed and agape.