chapters 6-10

Chapter Six
Hunter and Hunted


They rode hard throughout the night and into the late morning. Dismounted from the horse's heaving flanks, Lledra and his sister gathered a short and sparse meal, then rested for several hours. Arieth finally asked, "Where are we going and why south?" Lledra sighed heavily. "We go south as a decoy to keep the demons off the others' trail. As to the second question, we will cross the Halvord Mountains. It is unlikely we will be pursued beyond there. We will then ride east to the Dragon's Back."
Just then, a shrill cry enveloped them. When they looked up, they saw a huge bird-like animal, but obviously a demon, flying towards them. Its leathery wings beat the air as the eyes scanned the ground for any signs of life.
"Run!" Lledra, panic stricken, grabbed his sister's hand and dove for the trees. The horse pranced about on its tether, eyes rolling in fear. Lledra brought out his knife and in one smooth gesture sliced the bridle and led the horse along and down into a shallow stream. They barely made it. The shrill cry came again as the demon swooped low over them with a silhouette clearly marked against the dark sky, screaming the song of the hunt to the winds. Finding nothing, the demon released its cry once more before swooping northwest.
They climbed out of the muddy streambed. Shaken, Lledra quietly said, "No fires. We will ride only by night and," catching hold of his sister's hand and looking deeply into her eyes, "Do not for any reason leave cover." Cold water trickling down their backs from their time in the muddy ditch, the rested for several more hours before mounting again to ride south for the night.
Several more times the de quietly inched over to Arieth, the agonizingly slow movements seeming to take days.
Placing his hand over her mouth, he softly woke her. Demons, he mouthed, then silently communicated his plan to her. When the first rays of light began to find their way through the mountains, they made their move. Silently, they leapt to their feet and ran to their horse. Mounting simultaneously, Lledra spurred his horse, accompanied by the surprised grunts of the not particularly clever Bulguth.
The demons chased them doggedly, and with the sweat pouring down the flanks of the horse, Lledra knew there was not much more time before the horse collapsed or died. He passed his sword back to Arieth. Suddenly, the horse, simply exhausted beyond what it could handle, knelt over to the side and collapsed, all life fleeing from its body. Stumbling off, Lledra and Arieth ran as fast as they could. The valley was close, so tantalizingly close, but Lledra knew they could not reach it in time. "Run!" he exclaimed, "Run! I'll hold them off!"" He boosted her up the small bluff and gave her one more shove to send her on her way. He whirled around, preparing himself for the Hunters of Aingeastach. The two leading Bulguth rushed around the corner on their thick legs. One made a tremendous leap onto Lledra and the second caught on to Arieth's scent and pursued the edge of the bluff howling.
He felt a complete sadness, one that paralyzed him into inaction. It had all been for nothing. They would both die, he and his sister. A moment later the sadnes was replaced by a hot rage that lent new strength to his tired limbs and brough a rush of adrenaline. Lledra whipped out his small dagger and rushed forward under the demon's leap, then spinning around in time to hamstring the hind legs. The Bulguth keeled over, whimpering, and Lledra finished it quickly.
Before he could even smile with his success, he heard the second wave of Bulguth come skidding around the corner. He turned, raised his arms in a futile defense, and they launched themselves on top of him, burying him under a pile of evil smelling flesh.


Chapter Seven
Lledra felt the teeth scrabbling to get a hold on him. He lashed out with his knives, but he could not hold them back. Then he heard a strong voice and- the pressure disappeared. He rolled over onto his feet to find the Bulguth groaning on the ground…ground twenty feet away from him. "Behind you, boy!" He heard. Lledra half spun, half rolled, and nearly fell over in surprise when he saw-
Iulmhionna. But not the Iulmhionna he knew. He was now holding a magnificent sword and a staff inscribed with seven symbols.
"You dolt! Behind you!" Iulmhionna called again. The man was there in a moment. Bringing his shining sword over him in a tremendous sweep, he struck out behind Lledra, slashing the approaching Bulguth across the ribs. He threw a dirke to Lledra, and the two of them simultaneously atacked a Bulguth. Lledra attacked from the opposite side as Iulmhionna, forcing the Bulguth to turn its attention to the less skilled attacker. This was a fatal mistake. Lledra saw Iulmhionna's sword explode through the demon's chest, which he quickly complemented by leaping off the demon's knee to deliver a vicious slash that nearly decapitated the creature. He spun, ready for action, but found there was no more. Iulmhionna had made short work of the rest. Suddenly, they heard a screech, and looked up to find the winged demon circling overhead. Realizing he was outnumbered, the demon wheeled about and flew away, but not for long.
Iulmhionna's face tightened for a moment. Suddenly, Lledra's attention was distracted by a terrified cry from the demon. Turning, he saw the old man planted on the creature's neck, hacking frantically. The demon gave one last cry, and then plummeted to the earth, partly because its nerve center was destroyed, and partly because one leathery wing was nearly shorn off. Iulmhionna performed a flying leap from the bloody neck of the creature moments before it hit the ground, belying his apparent age.
"We need to get out of this place." Iulmhionna said. "There may be other patrols out hunting for us." Lledra groaned hopelessly, "The gorge is surrounded by cliffs." This brought back to his mind his escaping sister, still chased by a Bulguth.
"My sister! We need to find her!" Iulmhionna raised his hand, forestalling further argument. "Quiet! She is safe enough for now! We must leave! NOW!"


"I think a round of introductions would be in order," Iulmhionna said later, as the were trekking over the bluff, "You, I obviously know." As he closely examined the old man's face, Lledra got the feeling that the Storyteller knew more than he was telling "And then," Iulmhionna said expansively, addressing the younger one, "You know me quite well...or rather, you think you know me. To you I am old Iulmhionna the storyteller, however, many we will meet will address me as a different person. This person is someone you have no doubt heard of…" Lledra's mind spun away from reality. The clouded eyes, the staff and sword, could only mean one thing. "Merlin," he breathed, not taking his eyes off the legendary wizard.
Merlin halted the one-sided conversation. "Why yes. As a matter of fact I am. Very clever of you, I'm sure."
"What…When…How…" a thousand questions came tumbling out of Lledra's mouth, all vying for an answer. Merlin smiled. "A great many things I could tell you, boy, and none of which we have time for. Suffice it to say that you have become a not so small cog in a not so insignificant machination. Aingeastach has not yet won, my boy, and you may yet play a vital role in bringing his defeat about. You are possessed of a great power, my boy, one I will teach you to harness to serve you. There is a world of knowledge about you, and you must know of it. We will go eventually to the Dragon's Back, but we have much more urgent things to take care of. Our first destination will be Caer Aiden, city of the fire elves. Tomorrow, we leave."

Chapter Eight Sitting that night under a starry canopy around a crackling fire, Lledra asked a question. "What do you mean, 'Aingeastach has not yet won'? He holds most of Avalon, and there's not a nation that can stop him." Merlin's face appeared even more aged under the dancing light of the fire. "There are…certain things that may stop him. I believe that one of these possibilities is the elemental talismans that I created before I left Fincayra."
Lledra stared pensively into the fire, asking one more question. "Why are we going to Caer Aiden?" "We go to pick up…an item. And gain information. There are rumors that the fire elves have made a secret alliance with Aingeastach, and we must find the truth of this. Also, the elves will be very important to have on our side, with their fireball throwing druids and their lizard cavalry. Caer Aiden occupies a strategic place. He who controls that city controls the entire desert but for the Fardragh, the real rulers of the desert. Such a gain would greatly increase Aingeastach's domain." "Who are the Fardragh?" Lledra questioned. "The Fardragh are, as I said, the real rulers of the desert. Living not in simple fortresses, they reign from the far more potent fortress of the sand itself. They can camouflage themselves to the point where there are a hundred arrows not ten feet from your face, and you would never know until you could not see them. Why? Because you would have eyes no longer. It would require a superhuman effort to destroy them and to rid the desert of them forever. They have little communication with other races, being self sufficient and distrusting of others, always opportunistic."
********

The next day at noon, when they stopped for a short meal along the banks of the Ma`thlaine, Merlin strode over to where Lledra sat and threw down a finely crafted Elven sword. "Pick it up," he said, "or you'll feel the flat of my sword," prominently displaying the sparkling blade. Lledra scrambled to his feet, trying to find what he thought was a good position.
"No, no!" cried out the man after several minutes of swordplay. "I have told you how to hold your sword and position it to block certain blows, but your posture is all wrong. How do you expect to take the offensive, or even defensive, on an enemy if your feet are placed so that you cannot follow through with a stab, not even correctly block a thrust? How do you expect to simply survive if you are not balanced? To be balanced and flexible with a sword is a necessary thing, but to be balanced and flexible with your feet is a much more difficult and more important thing. You must constantly be looking for a better position, a place where you can turn your environment into a deadly advantage. Now!" He said, renewing the assault, "Find a place that will better serve you!"
Lledra's eyes darted as his mind worked on picking off the man's blows, trying to find a place where he could gain an advantage. He could go farther down the riverbank, and try to get Iulmhionna to slip on the fluid mud. Deciding to implement it, he slowly shifted the scene of the battle down the bank. He fought a difficult battle to stay balanced but also saw that the old man struggled too. He had found an even ground, where he could win. Finally he saw the old man lay his foot on a particularly slimy part of the bank, and when the old man's stroke came down the next time, Lledra was not there. He darted around his mentor, and with no counteracting force to halt the furious blow, Merlin overstepped and stumbled, sliding through the mud. Turning a crude pirouette, he managed to get one leg under him before Lledra's sword was locked with his, and a struggle ensued. "Your agility serves you well, young pup, but here's for the strength of man!" he said, thrusting upward to send Lledra flying. He came to a sliding stop through the brown muck and clear into the stream. Lledra leapt up and the fight continued. Another idea entered his thoughts. If he could fight his way over to that massive oak, he could put the tree's broad girth between himself and the ferocious man. He could then go through the tree branches and drop behind an unsuspecting Merlin. He slowly retreated across the copse, working his blade in a delicate and deadly dance. Reaching through his memory he recalled the location of every obstacle in his backward path, and avoided each with a fluid grace. Feeling the tree up against his back, he released one last desperate strike, more to distract than in any hope of actually hitting Merlin. He darted around the tree, crouching as he went, and then jumped upward, just in time to see Merlin coming around the opposite side of the tree he had come. Modifying his plan, he grabbed a thick limb and used his upward momentum to escape the deadly arc of that glistening blade by swinging forward, inches ahead of the keen edge. He continued his upward journey by lightly stepping over two more thick limbs before dropping down directly behind the man, cutting out in a quick backhand to his midriff.
********
Merlin had to admit it, for a beginner this one showed much promise. Even though blocking his clumsy thrusts was little challenge, he would learn. And he showed particular talent for adapting his environment to his advantage. The tall man was surprised at the stunt of going into the tree. Hearing the expected sound of Lledra dropping softly behind him, he smiled grimly and continued his strike, pulling it in slightly so its momentum would not be halted by the tree trunk. At the same time he leapt vertically into the air, tucking his legs to his chest so that the sword of his opponent skimmed lightly beneath him-and cut deep into the tree.
********
Lledra saw even as he struck out his mistake, and understood that he would soon lose the round. Merlin, coming down, struck out with the flat of his blade to sever the connection between Lledra and his sword. Lledra released his grip on the sword before Merlin's sword got there, reconnecting with lightning speed once the man's strike had gone past and catapulting himself into his stomach. Merlin released his sword with and oof. He flew backwards but managed to get a hold on Lledra's sword and his backward momentum pulled the sword free. Lledra collapsed in a heap on top of him and Merlin brought down the sword quickly and surely to rest upon his opponent's neck.
"My round." He said softly.

Within the end of the week they were in sight of Caer Aiden.

Chapter Nine The City of Fire
They approached Caer Aiden from the northern road. About noon, as they were picking there way around some large boulders, they heard a sharp whistle. Looking up, they saw a masked elf astride a lizard. Lledra was momentarily distracted by a whisper from Merlin. "Those are bandits! Stay wary."
Aloud he cried up "What do you want?"
"What do we want?" the masked elf repeated, "We want your blood!" He lept down with his lizard and drawing his swords for battle. "Stay to my back, Lledra! I will finish these fools!" called out Merlin, unsheathing his sword Excalibur and raising his staff over his head.
Suddenly they were surrounded by elves on lizards, all armed and ready for a fight. Merlin did not seem worried. He whipped his staff around so that the head was facing their leader. The spiked tail symbol began to glow with an unearthly light, and a fireball shot out to envelope the bandit in flames.
He was unharmed.
Merlin frowned, but in the next instant a bolt of lightning erupted from the staff and immolated the grinning bandit where he sat. Merlin spun to his left and shot a lightning bolt at another. All fell into chaos. The bandits scattered, unprepared for the magic they were facing. Merlin was shooting bolts left and right. He let none escape.
They soon joined with a merchant, a tall light skinned man with a shock of blond hair that was partially covered by a feathered beret and a small beard named Gallik, who welcomed their protection. He was jovial and easily excitable, but for some reason his black eyes showed some emotion Lledra could not identify whenever he looked at them, despite his outwardly hospitable appearance, and Lledra never could shake the feeling he did not like them, no matter how much protection they brought him. As they came closer to the gates, a voice hailed them from above the ramparts. "Halt, and be recognized!" Looking up, they found a short elf with shimmering red-gold hair and armed with the curious weapon known as an orlege-designed like a sword except in that it had a keen blade stemming from both ends of the hilt. His had curved blades and was ornately decorated.
Gallik swept his feathered beret off his head, dropping into and elegant bow lower than Lledra had ever thought possible and shouted upward, "A servant of the King of Caer Aiden and a humble merchant, accompanied by this venerable old man and this handsome youth." There was just the slightest touch of cheekiness and disrespect in his voice. The short elf frowned, but Lledra clearly saw that he recognized Gallik.
"And do you have more useless wares, like your last trip?" he called down. "Not so, General Eartav," replied the tall merchant, "I, at least, can manage to please Lord Ba'un!" Eartav scowled, the lines across his face deepening and lengthening. "And speaking of which," Gallik smoothly continued, "I have an appointment with King Hu'ahlin, so if you'll be so kind to open the gate…" He trailed off pointedly. Eartav grudgingly opened the gate, lending them entrance to the fabulous City of Fire.
As they were walking down a main road, clogged with carts selling exotic wares, guards, some even mounted on lizards, and street urchins, Merlin queried, "What was that all about, Gallik?" Gallik laughed lightheartedly. "General Eartav fell into the disfavor of Lord Ba'un recently and nearly lost his position. It's everyone's favorite thing to taunt him about it." "And your meeting with Hu'ahlin?" Merlin further prompted. "Simply notifying him of some rather valuable shipments coming later today," the merchant replied, this time his smile seeming slightly forced.
"May we come with you?" Merlin asked. Gallik hesitated, teetering on the brink of decision, but finally gave way, saying, "Yes, of course. I'm sure he'll be very pleased to see-or rather, meet you. Come this way, now."
Lledra gaped at the splendors surrounding them, but Gallik quickly explained the layout of the city. "You see, Caer Aiden has two roads coming in, one from the north, one from the south. The city is divided into three main districts, one for peasants, one for merchants, and one for the lords. The city has not one wall, but two, in layers, making it doubly difficult to penetrate. In the lord's district are the Lords Hazad, Gilthún, Salmud, Zildum, Ba'un, X'enul, Nazeh, and King Hu'ahlin. General Eartav, leader of the ground troops, and General Orthir, leader of the cavalry, occupy residences next to His Majesty. In the center of the Lord's district is the famed Fountain of Fire. Encased is a fire dweomer, granting the fountain eternal flames. Near the fountain is Madeen-Ulach, the school of druids, and Keelaz-Adum, the school of fighters. There is also, near the southeastern road, the famed Lizard cavalry barracks. Next Hu'ahlin's palace there is Nak-Ail, the Council. This is where the king and his lords meet to discuss decisions of state. And by the way," Gallik added, seeing Lledra's face, "Caer Aiden may seem splendorous as you walk down this street, but beyond those gem studded walls, the very epitome of poverty lies beyond these visual barriers. Many of these merchants are nearly destitute with the threat of…" Gallik stopped suddenly, as if he had said too much. "The threat of what?" prompted Merlin curiously. Lledra could tell he was having fun. Or…no, he was simply interested, and yet Lledra could sense impatience.
"The threat of me coming to drive them out of business," Gallik chuckled, trying to cover his apparent blunder. "And now," he said, trying to change the subject, "Here we are at the Fountain of Fire."
They were escorted quickly through the reddish gold gates, into the palace of King Hu'ahlin. Striding through ornately decorated halls and corridors, Gallik muttered a last few pointers under his breath to them. "Bow when you are introduced, be extremely respectful, use correct titles, and do not-" he stopped abruptly as the guard brought them into the throne room of King Hu'ahlin.
Lledra nearly gasped at the splendor, but, remembering his manners just in time, refrained. The King stood easily six feet tall, and was remarkably thin. He nonetheless bore himself with a regal air as he slowly walked down the three steps leading to his throne, which was decorated with three tongues of magical flame, constantly flickering and creating and changing grotesque shadows.
"Gallik?" he asked, "What has been sent for me this time?"
Gallik bowed again and quickly replied, "Two shipments of silver coming later today." The king stroked his short gray beard and spoke quietly, almost to himself, "Yes, how fitting. They will be very useful for our…guests," as his eyes strayed over Merlin and Lledra.
Lledra felt Merlin tense beside him, and he shuddered.
"And who are these that you have brought me?" asked Hu'ahlin, this time speaking louder and clearer. Gallik cleared his throat, and then proceeded to introduce the pair saying, "This venerable old man is Iulmhionna, a storyteller, and the other one is Leith, his companion and apprentice. They accompanied me here and gave me protection against highwaymen."
King Hu'ahlin nodded, a vicious expression for a moment penetrating his carefully maintained mask, and then he smiled, saying simply, "You are dismissed."
After they left the palace, they parted ways, Lledra and Merlin traveling quickly away from the place. Merlin led him into the Merchant's district, and then stopped at a seedy looking tavern with a sign hanging outside reading 'The Flaming Barrel', and depicting a picture of a barrel leaking flaming brandy. He strode through the rotting doorway, and Lledra followed, stopping only to allow a haggard man with unkempt and greasy hair who had obviously had one too many beers stumble out to collapse in the street singing uproariously.
Lledra entered to find a noisy room dimly lit by lamps in wall sconces and a wooden chandelier hanging from the center, so low you could bump your head on it. He quickly found Merlin hunched over a corner table. Lledra no sooner sat down than a barmaid with a dirty apron came around, and slammed one meaty fist on the table, saying in a slurred voice, "Whajya want?" Merlin politely declined, saying, "Nothing for now, I'm waiting for someone." Merlin reconsidered as the barmaid moved away with and exasperated sigh. "Wait! Please bring two waters…and the beer in the biggest mug you can find. With a small hose. And a large keg of beer." The barmaid moved away for the second time, this time in the direction of the storeroom.
Wondering how they could be waiting for someone, Lledra asked Merlin, "How could we be waiting for someone? We have talked to no one save Gallik and the King." Lledra felt a sudden intrusion in his mind. 'What makes you so sure, young pup?' Lledra nearly tipped over backwards onto the floor, so surprised he was. He looked toward Merlin's smirking face and spluttered "What...How…" Merlin chuckled quietly. "It is a simple enough trick. You remember when I transported myself onto the back of the Vai'kal?" Lledra felt a sudden twinge in his arm, reminding him of the battle they had fought there. Merlin chuckled again. "I see you do. Well, it's a very similar feat, using the magic of leaping. At the Halvord Mountains, I leapt my body. Here, I leapt my voice. Not so complicated, but it will be quite a while before you can do it well. Eventually, you will even be able to transport your mind, allowing you to be in two places at once, and to leap across both time and space. I happen to be in two places at once," he added as an afterthought and Lledra spluttered again. "Oh yes," Merlin continued, "I have to be back in Gwynedde too. After all, I have a king to train over there. A king named Arthur. I may bring him here someday. I think you would like him quite a lot. He, like you, has a way of getting his nose precisely where it least belongs, and jumping headfirst into the place where he should not be." Merlin broke off as the barmaid came back with the requested items and plunked them down on the table. Merlin paid her and she moved off.
Merlin winked at Lledra, saying, "This may become a useful skill for you in the future. Observe carefully." As he spoke he took a small awl from under his cloak and jabbed a small hole in the bottom of the large tankard. "You see, our contact, like most people, gets very talkative when he is drunk. Also, like most people, the drunker he is, the more information he gives. And we really need a lot of information from him. So, we will give him the largest tankard of beer he has ever seen in his life. But even this much may not be enough, and besides, better to err on the side of caution, so we will attach this small tube through the bottom of his tankard, and then attach the other end to the generously sized keg we have, and he will be glutting himself with beer until we have run his well of information dry. But, we will need two more safety precautions. The first will be to move the tube connecting the tankard and the flask to another plane where it cannot be seen, and the second will be using these." He pulled two small circular disks out of his belt pouch, dark brown in color, almost black, with a small rectangular cut into one side. "Now, when our contact sees the large tankard of ale we have prepared for him, and the not quite so large tankards of water on our side of the table, his mind will go to work, and he will quickly conclude our dubious intents. However, if we place these small disks inside our cups, it will appear we also are drinking beer--allowing us to retain our sensibilities and coherence, while our haggard and sleepy friend will spill his informative guts, encouraged by the potent drink. One more thing," Merlin continued, his face growing sharper, "before you drink anything in a public tavern, you need to conduct some tests. It may very well be that our sallow-faced bartender has accepted a commission to kill us, and has chosen this moment to do so by administering deadly chemicals and powders into our innocent looking drink. I speak of concoctions that make your eyes water at a tremendous rate, that inflame your skin so that your greatest desire is to die and escape the pain, that cover you in gigantic, oozing, bloody boils that eventually burst, covering you in white pus, and other brews that would make a demon's hair stand on end. So, reach out with your mind. Search through the water particles and see if you can find any other substances."
Lledra closed his eyes and guided his thoughts to a mental picture of the mug, then dove into it and looked about, trying to see all about him and through the water, but he could not--wait. Had he just seen something? Lledra looked closer. Indeed, there was a substance that was not water, though what exactly it was was beyond him. He pulled himself out of the image and turned to stare at Merlin with wild eyes.
"I saw it! There's something in there!" Merlin laid his arm over Lledra's, calming the excited youth. "Lucky for you," he said, "I put that in there. It is completely harmless, but you would never have known had I not told you. If I had chosen to put in a potion that could kill you in a matter of seconds, you would never have known, and you would have died. You see why it is important?"
Lledra nodded slowly.
********
They waited for a full hour, restlessly shifting on their seats, impatient for the contact.
At last he came. He was an aging man, balding, with skinny limbs and a hunted look on his face. He quickly looked around, and, seeing Merlin, he quickly shuffled over to them and sat down, taking a long draw on his tankard. Merlin looked to Lledra with a knowing smile. "So," Merlin began, "What's been happening lately in the City of Fire, Alroy?" The skinny man looked around furtively before replying, "Not much, but the city has been declining for some time now, and the rumors say that there will be war soon." "War? With whom?" asked Merlin questioningly. "I did not know that Caer Aiden had enemies." Alroy took several long gulps from his tankard, then wiped his face, belched, and continued, his speech growing more slurred with ever sentence. "You see, King Hu'ahlin and several members of his cabinet believe that Aingeastach may be the rising power in Avalon, and that it would best benefit them to ally, and to conquer part of Avalon for themselves. Luthaire has been a favorite subject of debate lately."
Merlin nodded pensively. "Is there anything decided yet?" Alroy belched again. "No, yashee, lotsa peoplesh don't thinksh itsh the besht thing for Caer Aiden to go to war, and that the Reshishtanshe shtill shtandsh a fighting chansh. But theirsh rumorsh that King Hu'ahlin hash already joined with Aingeashtach." Merlin took a quick swig from his tankard, then plied for further information. "And what about the city being in decline?" "Well, Caer Aiden hashent been doing sho well in trade any more, and more peoplesh have been moving from the merchantsh dishtrict into the peashantsh dishtrict. Shome thinksh that is we goesh to war we getsh richer." "What do you think?" asked Merlin. The man was definitely getting tipsy, and he started spilling everything he knew.
They listened to him long through the night.
He told them all.

Chapter Eleven
Treachery
They finally retired to their rooms late that night. Merlin arranged their staying inside the tavern, in the upstairs rooms.
The next morning, Merlin led them out of the tavern and through the north-south road, down until they came within sight of the fountain, still spurting flames. The aged wizard turned left abruptly and continued down the street. Today there seemed to be fewer people out hawking wares.
Lledra hurried to catch up with Merlin. As he did so he asked, "Where are we going?"
Merlin abruptly turned around and gestured to his lips with his finger. A moment later, Lledra felt an intrusion as being from the mage, he opened his mind and the message came through.
There can be no verbal communication for now. From what I gathered last night, today is not the best of days to be traipsing all over the city. You did not gather as much information as me from our friend last night, and precious little of it meant any good, for us or for Avalon. I am almost certain now that Caer Aiden plans to launch a war, we now go to one last person to ascertain who the war shall be waged against.
Lledra considered this for a moment, then threw back, But you already know who the second participant in this coming war is, don't you? He had hardly finished when he felt a tremendous crash against his mind, a tidal wave of mental energy that bludgeoned him into silence and left him like a poleaxed drunkard. He staggered for several moments, surprised further by it coming from Merlin. Another message came to his mind from his companion, considerably softer than the previous one. I am sorry for that, but it was necessary. You were sending your message in such a way that anyone attuned to such things could have stumbled upon it and traced it back to you. A blind donkey with half a nose and no ears could find you. Do not simply throw your voice out for anyone to recieve, send it directly to me, and only me. And as to your question, I have a hunch, nothing more.
And what is that hunch? Lledra asked. Think, boy! It requires no great intelligence! Lledra wracked his brain. How should I know? I don't know anything about fire elves! Merlin's voice came back sharply. This has nothing to do with your knowledge or lack of it! Do you think they would attack Farinden? This has to do with geography!
Lledra thought about it. Of course they wouldn't attack a place on the other side of Avalon. It was logical for them to attack closer to Caer Aiden. So...they would attack Earnan. Lledra immediately dismissed that idea. Unless Caer Aiden had much more strength then first met the eye. No one knew exactly the strength of Aingeastach's horde, but it was common
knowledge that the numbers were tremendously large. That left Luthaire and Grizoc. He could not imagine why they would assault the city of corsairs, but... He communicated with Merlin. Is it Grizoc or Luthaire? Merlin's answer was grim. I am almost certain it is one of these. Grizoc would not be such a loss, but we cannot afford to lose Luthaire. Here we are.
In front of them was a fabulous gate. He rung the bell, and a few moments later the gates opened.
Merlin immediately got down to business. "Where is Gilthún?" One of the soldiers puffed out his narrow chest and began to exert his authority by saying "Oi! That's Lord Gilthún t'you! And he ain't seein' no one right now!", but before he got far into his reprimand, Merlin fixed him with a stare that froze his mouth into silence. Merlin tapped his fingers impatiently upon his staff. The elf swallowed nervously and beckoned down the wide avenue.
Merlin swept down the stone-paved pathway. Lledra followed after moment's hesitation. The soldiers fell into line after them in two columns of four.
As they approached the main building, the captain hurried ahead to open the gates for them. The well-greased hinges swung forward and smacked the inside walls with a resounding thud. A voice emanated from inside.
"What is it you fools want now?
You are lucky that Lord Gilthún is not in, or he would likely whip the all of you." The captain of the guard hurried forward and bowed deeply at the speaker, a middle-aged elf with dark black hair streaked with various shades of gray with a completely black mustache. Lledra blinked in surprise. He had thought that elves were not able to grow mustaches.
"Steward Swuce, these two asked to see his honor, the Lord Gilthùn." The man suddenly trembled as the steward's face was contorted with a furious expression, and he raged, "You fools! I have told you he will see nobody for now, he is at Nak-Äil even as we speak! And who," he continued, wheeling around vent his fury upon the two companions, "are these miserable travelers? Why do they seek the audience of Lord Gilthùn?"
The captain seemed to regain some of his composure, and, seeking to grasp control of the situation, chimed in, "A worthy question. Who are you, and what do you seek?"
Merlin paused a moment before answering. "I am Iulmhionna, a storyteller by trade, and this is my apprentice, by the name of Léith. We come here to sate our desire for certain questions." The reply came back swiftly and demandingly. "Which
questions might these be?"
Merlin's reply was firm and unyielding. "These questions are for your Lord's ears and none others."
During this Lledra had been testing his mental abilities by exploring the soldiers minds. As he sifted through their heads, he found immense mountains of worthless information, most of which involved taverns(Elves in general, and especially fire elves, greatly appreciate intoxicating drinks) and increased pay. He stumbled, purely by chance, upon one piece of useful information, in the captain's head. He delved into this memory.
He found himself walking down a thickly carpeted hallway right behind
the captain. Hanging from the ceiling were magnificent red-gold chandeliers with live flames licking around the cast sculptures contained within. As the captain continued down the corridor, Lledra amused himself by identifying the images surrounded by flickering tongues of fire. Here was a leopard, detailed fur sleeked back with sweat and low to the ground, a frightening look in its emerald eyes, prepared to pounce. Next was an eagle, wings spread. His
beak was open as if a fierce cry of vengeance was ripping from his throat. Lledra marveled at the lifelike figures as he moved on to the next one. This was a small creature, perhaps a light flyer. Indeed there seemed to be an aura about the sculpture, as if it recognized it's heritage. He passed by them more quickly now, a lion, then another bird, and then...this one seemed to be and ogre, though how and why an ogre was beyond him. No--on second thought, this was--Lledra gasped.
It was a demon.
Not merely a demon, but a tan'ari.
Stunned, Lledra followed dazedly down the hall, collecting his wits. As he returned to the present, he was surprised yet again by the next one. Like before, it had seemed to be something it was not. At first glance, it appeared to be simply a man, but as Lledra peered closer he recognized that posture, that feathered hat. Surely there was only one man like this in all of Avalon! It was Gallik, the merchant who had introduced him to the king.
Looking ahead, he saw that the captain was getting farther from him, so he hurried to catch up with him. Just in time he arrived next to the elf's shoulder, for the captain had turned into a doorway--and right through Lledra's body!
He stood there in shock for a few moments, then spun around and followed him through the doorway.
"Gen'ral Orthir," he said respectfully as he bowed.
The elf sitting at the desk stood up. He was tall and muscular, with hair that was the purest, brightest red Lledra had ever seen. He had a thin mouth, and when he opened it to speak, his voice was a mixture between a hiss and a deep baritone.
"Captain Lithdan," he began, "You have been selected for a great honor. As you know, we are preparing to invade and destroy Lúthaire." Here Lledra gasped, then clapped his hand over his mouth, but neither elf seemed to hear.
"We recently lost a lizard squadron in combat, (Lledra wondered if perhaps the bandits they had recently met were not bandits at all) and your guard squadron will replace them when we attack. Report tomorrow afternoon at the lizard barracks for your mounts and instructions. You will report punctually and in a similar manner every afternoon hereafter."
The world melted into a colored blur, and Lledra found himself back in the present.
The only minds not explored yet were the steward's and Merlin's. He began exploring the steward's mind. As he approached it, he sensed something unusual about this one's mind. He seemed to have set up defenses against such an intrusion.
Remembering Merlin's warning against such a possibility, he slowly retreated away from his mind. He had been about to send the captain's memory to Merlin, but, aware that the steward could intercept it, he refrained.
"When will Lord Gilthún return?" Merlin asked. The steward pursed his lips and replied, "Come back this afternoon." They were escorted out.
They ended back up at the Flaming Barrel, where they sat, mostly in silence, for several hours. Finally, Lledra broke the silence. "Did you notice something unusual about the steward?" Merlin nodded. "I was hoping you would mention that. The man had a powerful magical aura about him. That worries me. He did not have the robes of druid, and his powers may be Infernal ones bestowed by Aingeastach." "There is another thing," Lledra broke in. "While we were waiting, I explored the minds some of the soldiers. In the captain's mind, I found one very interesting one. I think you should see it." He relayed the memory to Merlin, who sat in silence for several long moments as he digested the contents.
"Do you know what this means?" he said after a long moment. "Aingeastach may finally be moving. I do not think that Caer Aiden would dare to conquer Lúthaire in the face of Aingeastach, but an alliance seems possible and even probable."
He paused for a moment, as if to gather his thoughts. "Lledra," he began, "I must now tell you some things I would have preferred to have told you later, but circumstances press and I may not be here for much longer." Lledra allowed a dismayed look to cross his face, he had grown accustomed to and even enjoyed the wizard's company. "I cannot stay here forever. I have a king to watch over, and my split consciousness cannot sustain this king, for he will shake his world more than any have for fifteen hundred years, and none shall for another five hundred years. His fate is intertwined with Avalon's in ways that none of us can understand. So," he continued, clearing his throat, "The first things you should know are about yourself. You are a half-elf, from your mother's side. This gives you the physical advantages of both elves and men. You did not know this because it was not safe, and you we need, possibly more than any other person in the length and breadth of Avalon. Second, the reason you have become so important to our cause is that you may become a wizard." Seeing Lledra's somewhat confused expression, he continued. "There are three main types of magic wielders, druids, magicians, and wizards. A druid's power is drawn from nature or deity, while a magician prepares spells that draw power from their ingredients. The wizard is by far the most powerful and rare of the three. In older days they were more common, but during his conquest, Aingeastach hunted them down. We do not know how he did this, there were no survivors from any of the attacks to be eyewitnesses. I don't know how he could have done this, for some of these mages had power that most mortal men can only dream of achieving."
"The reason that a wizard is so powerful is that his strength and spellcasting are drawn from himself, instead of nature or objects. He can still retrieve power from these sources, but all he needs to cast a spell is willpower and mental strength. You will be a wizard.
"To become a true wizard, you must learn the seven songs of wizardry: Changing, Binding, Protecting, Naming, Leaping, Eliminating, and Seeing." As he said each one, he lovingly fingered the respective symbols: A moth, the silhouettes of two hawks locked in flight together, a cracked stone, a sword, the star within the circle, the dragon's tail, and an eye. "Each forms an essential part of a wizard, and in gaining the truth and essence of a song, you gain wisdom and knowledge. These are perhaps the most important skills of all, for when your training is done, you shall hold the very power of life and death in your hands. You must know how to use these skills, or you may rip open the fabric of the cosmos and set the ship of eternity adrift, and in doing so destroy all that Dwarf, Man, or Elf holds dear.
"When this segment of your training is complete, you shall build your harp. All that you have known before shall be overturned and yet expanded, and the harp shall give forth wondrous music that will guide you further on your path."
Merling abruptly changed topics.
"There have been many believed ways to defeat Aingeastach, and one of them is to assemble the Elemental talismans. You remember when I told you the reason we were here in Caer Aiden was to collect an item?"
Lledra nodded slowly, beginning to catch on.
"Eabowyn, the bow of fire, is here," the old man said while suddenly leaning across towards the youth. "I can feel it!"
He composed himself. "Aingeastach is spreading his grip across Avalon. Reports of demons, or rather rumors, because there are rarely surviving witnesses, are appearing, especially in the Barrens and Farinden. The old devil himself is soon going to attack openly, and in force, to finally remove that old thorn in his side, the Faerie peoples. This convinces me further that the fire elves have formed an alliance with Aingeastach. If it were otherwise they would not dare to attack in the face of this coming danger. They are fools to do so. Aingeastach comes not as an ally, but as a brutal conqueror. The one reason Earnan survived was that he has no wish to become a king of a demon infested wilderness, of a broken nation. He uses the demons. He manipulates them. He does not want them to be his subjects, like everyone else, he desires them as slaves!"
Seeing the wizard's agitated face, Lledra could not help but feel frantic too. "But won't the Dar Brendal help us?" he asked desperately. Merlin laughed hollowly. "You have heard stories that the Resistance will come to save you." Changing his voice, he imitated the old women of Caer Eachan. "You'll see," he cackled, "they'll come and save us yet!" Lowering his voice, he mocked the men. "Don't you worry, my boy. Dar Brendal will come." Merlin laughed again. "The Resistance is falling apart, it was never strong to begin with. Since Rhorna Tage, that fateful day when Aingeastach divided Avalon, the three races live in fear and mistrust towards each other. They need a leader, a leader who will inspire them to fight, to forget their differences under the banner of freedom!" His voice, which had been rising steadily for a while, suddenly dropped. Peering out the window and seeing the sun falling in an arc from its lofty perch to make its daily journey to the horizon, he said: "We must go now. It is essential that we avert this war. Do you have any questions?"
Lledra nodded. "One. You said I would become a wizard, and to do magic I would need to know the essential soul of each song. Aren't I doing magic when I communicate with you mentally?"
Merlin chuckled. "You are not actually sending the messages. Instead, you place these thoughts on the surface of your mind, where I pick them up. All right then," he said, rising from his seat, "if there are no more questions we will leave."
Lledra rose also. "Just a moment, I left my sword upstairs." He turned and rushed up the stairs, followed closely by a watchful Merlin, who, despite his age, kept up closely. Lledra laughed aloud as he turned the corner at the top of the stairs at top speed, trying to beat the wizard. He was almost to their room when Merlin's words cut across his ears. "NO, LLEDRA! STOP!" He bellowed.
But by the time the words registered, Lledra had already turned into the doorway.
Boom!
An instant before the door imploded into thousands of flying shards that shot out with supernatural speed like arrows and the fireball expanded to its ten foot diamater, engulfing and devouring any part of the door that was left and the surrounding wall, Lledra felt an invisible force slam against him, driving the air from his lungs and sending him flying backwards down the hall to slam into a wall. He kneeled and crumpled to the floor, somehow retaining consciousness.
"LLEDRA!" he heard Merlin bellow. The wizard was on him in an instant. "There was a powerful ward on that door! Why didn't you listen?" Lledra groaned and rolled over. Blood seeped out of his side, staining his tunic a dark crimson "I…didn't have time to stop." Then he grimaced with the pain.
Merlin supported him into their room, were he examined him and healed a nasty gash ripped in his side from a sliver of wood. Lledra stood straight and picked up his sword and, buckling it on, strode out of the room after Merlin.
******

"Back, I see?" The captain's cheery voice greeted them as they approached the golden gate of Lord Gilthún. "Aye," Merlin replied, "And hoping that we will not be turned away so quickly this time." The captain laughed. "Oh, I don't believe you'll have to worry about that. He came through these very gates not forty minutes ago! A friend came through soon after, though, so he may be deeeply involved with that. Best of luck!" He waved them on through the open gates.
The guards at the door gave them similar passage. As they walked inside, Merlin whispered, "Be careful. I did not like the look of that steward." Lledra nodded and continued hs stride. As he did so a heated debate struck his ears, followed by a sudden calm and then a docile "Yes. I most certainly shall." Directly after this Gallik walked into the room accompanied by a stately elf tha Lledra knew must be Lord Gilthún.
Merlin bowed and Lledra did likewise. "Lord Gilthún," Merlin began, "I must have an audience--privately--with your Lordship."
Gilthún hesitated for a moment, then nodded, gesturing for Gallik to leave. "Come in, Merlin, my friend! We have much to talk about," Gilthún said after the sandy haired merchant left. "Aye," Merlin replied grimly, "That we do."
"What brings you here?" asked Gilthún as he motioned for his steward to bring a decanter and three goblets. "Oh, come now, Gilthún! You of all people should know." said Merlin, laughing. "Caer Aiden is going to war, isn't it? And against Lúthaíre?"
The Lord's hands trembled visibly. "How did you know?" he said tremulously. Merlin laughed. "The signs are everywhere! Mobilization of the lizard cavalry, failing economy, the works! But," he continued, catching Gilthún's hand to stare him straight in the eyes, "You don't know what you're doing. It is madness to declare an alliance with Aingeastach! Do you think that after he is finished with the rest of Avalon he will let this pitiful nation survive? No!"
Gilthun spoke laconically, as if in a trance. "He has given us more power than we have ever known. He shall be victorious, and we shall sit on the right hand of his throne, we who supported him in the moment of doubt."
Merlin stepped forward and shook Gilthun. "You're deluded, man!" he roared. "Don't you understand that he is determined to take all of Avalon, including you? Now is not the time for internal wars! Avalon cannot afford that." He was silenced as Gilthún changed suddenly, becoming enraged, jumping forward to accept and return the deadly embrace.
"It is too late!" he howled with glee. "The decision is made, the pact sealed! Avalon shall fall, the evil dwarves, the deceitful men, all of them, shall fall beneath the might of the fire elves! It is too late!" he again proclaimed, fingering a strange symbol looped around his neck.
Merlin took notice of his actions for the first time. "What is that...oh, no...NO!" he bellowed, grappling for the amulet.
Lledra froze, wondering what he should do. Then he heard a silky voice behind him remark, "He's right, you know. It is too late. Pyrs! " the voice suddenly cried, and Lledra felt an invisible hand slam into him and drive him across the room. The voice repeated. "Pyrs! " and then Merlin crumpled next to him.
"What..." Merlin growled as he attempted to get up. Then the owner of the strange voice stepped forward.
It was Gallik.
"How many times must I tell you? Pyrs! " he cried a third time, driving the enraged wizard almost through the wall. "And don't try anything foolish, wizard." He spat out the last word like a curse. "I have placed appropriate wards and glyphs about you. You cannot hurt me with magic. You think I would be fool enough to face you in open combat, Merlin? It's too bad that my so-called bandits failed to kill you, although I was surprised that the fireball-ward I placed over your doorway did not even seriously maim either of you."
Merlin nodded absently, as if the news was no surprise to him. "Tell me, Gallik, how long has it been since you decided to betray your countrymen?"
The merchant laughed somewhat nervously and replied, "My betrayal has brought me powers that you can never understand."
This wizard sighed. "You play a dangerous game, though. The echràtà is not to be toyed with. It will destroy you, if age or weapon does not. You seek unholy shortcuts, ones that you believe will bring you power but will only bring you misery."
Gallik's face twisted as spittle flew from his mouth. "What has your pretended holiness done for you? Nothing! It is I who shall triumph, I, the honored servant of Aingeastach, whose legions shake the earth! Look!" he said, gesturing to a impassive Lord Gilthún. "Even your closest friends have betrayed you, and you still keep your hopeless faith in Avalon!"
For the first time since Lledra had met Merlin, the old man's face showed despair. "No! NO!" he shouted. "How many spells did you have to place over him to gain his service? How much did you torture him?"
Gallik smiled tightly. "No torture, and only one spell. All creatures, not just man but elves, dwarves, giants, and more, have evil within them. It merely needs to be coaxed to blossom and give forth its chaotic fruit. This is what I did with your so called friend Gilthún! I merely exposed what already existed."
Merlin's shoulders sagged. He turned to Gilthún. "Is...this...true?" he asked haltingly.
Silence reigned. Gilthún, finally released from Gallik's spell, blinked and looked around. "I'm...sorry," he whispered softly. "I was decieved."
Gallik laughed wildly. "It is too late!" he proclaimed again. Come now!" He snapped his fingers and a squad of guards clattered into view, escorting them to the palace.