During the seventh of these rambles, as they trudged up toward the crest of a tor overlooking the fjord, Arin said, "We must set out soon to find the mad monarch's rutting peacock."
On Arin's left, Egil looked down at her diminutive form-she but four feet eight and he at five feet ten. "Then the time has come for us to sail for Jute, aye? To the court of the mad queen?"
Arin smiled up at him. "Then thou dost plan on going with us?"
Egil glanced out at the deep, black fjord. "Is it not so that I am one-eye in dark water?"
"Forget not Alos."
In the lead, Aiko growled. "Alos is a runaway coward, Dara."
"Nevertheless, Aiko," said Arin, "we know not for certain who or what the rede refers to: it could be Egil or Alos, either or both… or neither."
Aiko sighed. "These are my thoughts, Dara: Egil is a warrior. He knows of a mad monarch. He fits the words of the rede. He is willing to go. All of these point to the fulfillment of the words of your vision. But Alos… he is a coward. He is a drunkard. He has fled in fear. He does not want to go."
Aiko fell to silence, but Arin replied, "Thou hast left one fact amiss, Aiko: Alos fits the words of the rede. And if we are to succeed, I would rather he join our quest until we are certain as to his role, if any, in finding the Dragonstone."
Again Aiko growled, muttering, "Fuketsuna yodakari yopparai!"
They walked a moment in silence, then Egil said, "There is another thing to consider."
Arin looked at Egil. "Another?"
Egil cleared his throat. "Actually, two things."
"And they are…?"
"First, I also know of Ordrune, and he was in Black Mountain when the Dragonstone first came. He left. The Dragonstone disappeared. Are these mere coincidences? I think not."
Arin turned up her hands. "Yet we know not that he took the green stone, that he has it."
Egil gritted his teeth. "He is vile, and if any would seek the owner of the stone, it is he."
"Hai!" barked Aiko, stopping, turning to face Arin. "This, Dara, is why we were to come to Morkfjord. This is why Egil is the one-eye in dark water."
Arin stared at the Ryodoan. "Explain."
Aiko grinned at Egil. "He must be right: Ordrune must have the Dragonstone, the Jaded Soul. The Mage seeks to master the power of the stone, and when he has done so he will muster the warrior nation of Moko and conquer the world, as their prophecy ordains. But we strive to prevent such a calamity by following the words of your vision, the words of your rede. That is, after all, why we are in Morkfjord. Why else would the rede lead us here if not to find Egil? I deem it is because Egil has been in Ordrune's strongholt and can lead us to the stone."
"But he knows not where that strongholt lies," protested Arin.
Aiko raised a finger. "Yes, Dara, but perhaps that is a task for one of the others of the rede."
Arin's eyes flew wide at Aiko's suggestion but narrowed again. "And if not…?"
"Then again I say, there are always the Mages of Black Mountain; they recovered your lost memories, and perhaps can do the same for Egil."
Egil, who had remained silent, said, "But what if they cannot lift the curse Ordrune laid upon me?"
Arin shook her head, voiceless, but Aiko turned to Egil and said, "If not, they have a great map inscribed on a huge globe. By gleams of light and dark, it shows where each and every Mage dwells. Surely one of these glimmers is Ordrune."
Arin nodded. "Given what Egil has said, a dark glint I would deem."
"How many dark glints are there?" asked Egil.
Both Aiko and Arin shrugged, and Arin said, "An ample number. If we resort to this, it will be a long search against a formidable foe-they are Mages, after all, dark in their deeds and power."
"Then let us hope that your peacock or ferret or keeper of faith knows the way instead," said Egil.
"Mayhap Alos knows," said Arin.
Now it was Aiko's eyes that flew wide open.
They came to the crest of the tor overlooking the steep notch of the fjord, the deep black waters lying in the sun of the long summer day like a ribbon of obsidian, an ebon road 'round far bends to the distant unseen sea. A gentle breeze blew west to east, carrying the tang of salt on its wings, and the grass all around rippled like water. Aiko stepped down the hillside and knelt in the sward and plucked a pale yellow flower from among the green blades, but Arin and Egil stood on the crown, facing the breeze, surveying the whole of the world, the high blue sky above them bright and cloudless and pure… and time itself seemed to pause. Egil reached out and took Arin's hand, and she did not draw away, but stood with him side by side… wishing.
At last Arin took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh, then turned to Egil. "Would that this could last forever, but Fortune and Fate have decreed elsewise."
"The quest," said Egil.
"Aye, Egil, the quest."
Arin faced west once again and they stood a moment more, sharing the comfort of one another, their thoughts running in parallel. Without turning, Arin said, "Thou didst say there were two reasons thee should join the hunt, yet thou named but the first. What is the second?"
Egil turned the Dylvana toward him and looked down at her, his blue gaze soft, gentle. "Just this, my engeclass="underline" now that I have found you, quest or no, I would ask to ever stay at your side."
Momentarily, a range of emotions flickered across her face, as if warring with one another.
"Is something wrong?" asked Egil.
She looked at the ground. "Three things."
"And they are…?"
Now Arin looked him directly in the eye. "First, thou art a raider."
"What does that have to do with my loving you?"
"Nought, Egil. But it does have to do with my love for thee."
"I do not understand, Arin. We have always been raiders. It is an honorable profession among Fjordlanders."
"Dost thou not see? What thou and thy kind do is plunder that which others' labors have won. It is an evil thing."
"But we only raid our enemies."
"Is that what thou wert doing: raiding thine enemies when thou and thy Hawks sailed off to go where no Fjordsmen had been?"
Pain momentarily flashed in Egil's gaze, and he looked down at his feet. "Oh."
"Do not take me wrong, Egil, long apast when we were yet mad the Elven race did such things as raid merely for spoils. Yet there came a time when one of the very wisest of our leaders stood before his people and said, 'It is unjust to steal from one another, regardless of tradition and enmity. I shall plunder no more.'
"There was a great uproar among Elvenkind, and many protested, crying out, 'But they have done wrong by us. What of our own revenge?'
"And he replied, 'Raiding for vengeance is one thing; raiding for spoils another. If there is ever to be peace among Elvenkind, let it begin with me.'
"Oh, Egil, there is much more to this tale, and millennia passed ere the wisdom of his words was finally realized by all. And many believe it was because of him the madness finally passed away from my people-the evil withered on the vine-for he was the first, the very first who said, 'Let it begin with me.' "
"But you still seek vengeance."
"Aye, in a just cause. But even here, someday, perhaps, someone will say, 'Let it begin with me.' "
Silence fell between them, but at last Egil said, "I take it then, because of your beliefs, that you cannot live with a raider-one who plunders for spoils."
Arin nodded.
Egil sighed and looked away, his one-eyed gaze lingering long on Morkfjord, but at last he said, "Then let it begin with me."
Arin smiled, yet doubt still lingered deep within her eyes, and Egil said, "That was but one of your reasons, my love, and you said there were three. What is the second?"