It was three days since they had found the boat by the river, and the Elves were ready to move on. Nelwyn was packing up her gear when Galador approached her, bringing provisions from his own stores. Gaelen had washed their clothing at the riverside and hung it to dry in the late winter sun and wind. In Nelwyn’s opinion, Gaelen had used this as an excuse to return to the river and check the boat for herself, as when she returned she had seemed preoccupied and ever more eager to get away.
Before she would leave, however, Gaelen made certain that Rogond was no longer in danger of death. His fever had broken on the second night, after an exhausting delirium that had taxed them all as they fought to calm him. At last he had collapsed, soaked with sweat, and they all feared that he would never move again, until the dawn came and he stirred at last.
Gaelen had still been with him, singing quietly, warming and comforting him with her embrace. Hers was the first face he beheld on awakening, and he later told Galador that it was her voice that had pulled him back from the madness of his delirium as he fought with unseen demons. He started taking food the day after, and it seemed that all would be well provided that he and Galador could stay safely hidden until he was strong again. Gaelen and Nelwyn brought fresh meat from the forest, and they had plenty of good water and dry wood. Galador was reasonably confident that Rogond would be able to ride in a few days.
Now, as Galador handed Nelwyn the provisions he had brought, his grey eyes betrayed his disquiet. He didn’t want Nelwyn to go. He was worried for her, and besides, he would miss both her company and her help in caring for Rogond. He spoke to her in his deep, gentle voice while gazing off into the trees.
"Must you leave us now? Why not stay until he is healed, and then we can go all the more swiftly because of the horses."
Nelwyn smiled, touched by his offer of aid. "The horses will not avail us here, Galador. We dare not make too much speed; we may miss some sign. Gaelen and I can move swiftly enough and attract
less attention on foot. Rogond will not have his full strength for some time, and it would be unwise for him to leave your sanctuary until he is fully recovered." Then she added, "I would very much like to have your help, and your offer is received with thanks, but I fear that we cannot accept at this time. We have told you of the enemy we seek. Our only chance to defeat him is to catch him before the trail grows so cold that we never find it again."
She cast her eyes toward Gaelen, who was inside with Rogond. "She will never give up, and I cannot abandon her. And I also wish to prevent this monster from doing further harm to our people." She thought of her friend Talrodin and his two sons, remembering the stench of his charred flesh and the difficulty they had in prying his brother’s hands from his arm. Her eyes and her voice grew cold. "I also wish vengeance for my friends."
She looked at Galador, and she could see that he was troubled. He did not know what he could say to dissuade her, though he felt an almost desperate urge to do so. "I sense that if you leave now, without me, it will mean your doom," he said quietly.
At this Nelwyn sighed and turned away. "Then doom it must be, for we are leaving."
Gaelen, who had approached without seeing Galador at first, had overheard this last exchange and now knew that Galador was trying to delay Nelwyn further.
"Take heart!" she said with false brightness. "We have tarried here so long that the trail is undoubtedly cold by now, and the doom you fear will be quite unlikely. Perhaps we’ll come back when we realize that all efforts of the last fortnight have been in vain."
Galador bristled at her, as it seemed she would not take him seriously.
"You’re so confident that you can handle this enemy yourselves. Tell me, Gaelen, have you ever seen real battle? Or is your experience limited to ambushing stray Ulcas in the forest? Do you not understand that my wish to delay you is grounded in the desire to help you?"
Nelwyn’s eyes widened—these were bold questions. Gaelen stood before them, her face calm. She did not immediately answer Galador, but set her pack down and unlaced the front of her shirt. Pulling it aside, she displayed a jagged scar that ran diagonally from
her collarbone on her left shoulder.
"This was made by a blade forged by an evil hand. Ambushing Ulcas is sometimes a dangerous business. Our people have been fight- ing and dying for untold years trying to safeguard the Great Forest, yet it grows ever more perilous. None of us can be sure of returning home. In the north it is only safe to travel because of our vigilance and skill. Ask Nelwyn to show you the marks of her encounters. Our skills and experience are at least as valuable in dealing with an enemy that hides and strikes the unwary as those of one who has cut down his enemies in open battle."
Nelwyn remembered the origin of the mark on Gaelen’s shoulder. She had come as close to dying as was possible before the healers had pulled her back. The wound still pained her at times, and it was not her only mark. Nelwyn, too, bore evidence of the perils they had faced. True, neither had seen the sort of warfare Galador was refer- ring to, but they had certainly seen their share of battle.
Galador was abashed. "I meant no disrespect," he said, staring at Gaelen’s shoulder. Only a dark blade would leave such a mark, and he knew what it had cost her. "And you’re right. Open warfare would not prepare you for this enemy. I wonder, though, how you will fare when you finally encounter it. Have you any thought as to what sort of creature it is?"
Gaelen nodded in acknowledgment of his apology. "The signs left near the boat are confusing. There were traces of some sort of strange blood left behind. I tried to identify it, but it is outside my experience. I only know that it is not the blood of Ulca, or man, or Elf. It is…something else, but whether from the creature or some unknown victim, I cannot say." She lifted her light pack from the ground after re-lacing her shirt front, then slung her bow over her shoulder and turned to Nelwyn.
"Are you ready to depart?"
Nelwyn looked at Galador, who had by now lost all hope that she would stay but was still imploring her with his eyes. Nelwyn had made her intentions clear, and she did not waver. "Yes, I’m ready. Have you made your farewells to the Aridan?"
"No. I would rather not disturb him, as he is resting. Galador can say our farewells to him when he awakens and can explain why
it was necessary to leave him. He will be all right with time and care; what he needs most is rest."
She said farewell to Galador and headed out toward the river without waiting for her cousin. Galador waited until she was out of sight, and turned then to Nelwyn.
"Since you feel you must leave, I bid you farewell, O Daughter of the Greatwood. May your steps be swift and your aim be true. May you both escape the fate that I fear awaits you...I would look upon you again."
Her expression encouraged him, and he took her in a stiff, some- what awkward embrace. Then, with a last "Farewell," he turned and strode back to the cave so that he would not have to watch her go.
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