Chapter Three.

Beshlie of Calverstock.

As Ithilwen Silverleaf bent to the placidity of weeding her flower garden, her tranquility was suddenly roiled by the clatter and caw of the covey of rooks that had been making squabble and hop about the treetops in surround of her steading. As she gazed towards the pother in the Greening, she spied the gryphon flight in approach. The lead gryphon lowered, made settle in the clearing before her steading, and the lead rider leapt from the creature's back. She saw it was Staisha; her hair all tumbled and tousled from her speedy passage; her cheeks pink from the whip of the wind in her face. She ran to Ithilwen calling for Torbair to attend them. Ithilwen told that he was not here; he had journeyed to his Old Mill further away into the deep greening Forests of Elisriendell. He had gone there to bring out his appurtenances to carry on his calling as famed Goldsmith of Elisriendell.

Staisha told of what had come to passing, from the tell of Callam; of how it was, as like, that Eldamar would call to foregatherment, the High Council of The Light 'ere a slender span in passing had prevailed. She spoke too, of the fear that The Darkness resolved to lay sturdy assail upon those of the Great Wiccen Rede who held the power of The Light in bind… thus, to diminish The Light to the advantage of The Darkness.

Ithilwen hearkened the tell of Staisha; When the tell was done, she gave study to the concern standing plain in Staisha's face. Ithilwen gave a slim, secret smile; but her eyes... of a deep, sapphire hue that commonly sparkled like reflected starlight in the Meres of Lothluthil, were now, deep, dark pools. Staisha stared at Ithilwen; how could she hold such small concern at this thing? Staisha spoke again in consummate discomfit;

'Do you not grasp in sum, the peril that may be in lurk, even as we speak? They have taken a sturdy cull of your sisters of the Wiccen Rede... Beriana; Mage of Eredun; the Witching Mistress, Justalyn of Luxtan; Ainariel Fefalas, Revered Mother of all the Wiccen Rede of Arfeiniel; Feawen Arcamen, Wiccen Priestess of Arfeiniel; full tally of the Cabal maids of Bradda; and now... the Sorceress Shahran of Penvallanar. They are winnowing the Wiccen Rede, one, by the one, and you may well be their next victim.'

Ithilwen smiled once more... but, this time, her smile was not so gentle. She pointed to a fresh-raised edifice, like as to a common byre, but possessing sizeable casements to the upper reaches. It stood a little apart from the birdhouse of the Storm-Linnets.

She spoke. Her voice was calm… as calm as the deep Meres of Lothluthil.

'See there; the edifice that Torbair has recently raised for me. Therein, is the undoing of such vermin as might assail this place.'

She pursed her lips and laid forth a call, of sorts to raise hairs on nape of neck. It was not a whistle... it was not a wail; it was a call as one sometimes hears from out of the deepings of the forest on a misty, moonless night. A wild call, whose echo through the eerie, darkened glades would lay apt cause for cot mantles to be pulled up about the ears.

Staisha's hand was swiftly to her sabre... and the sabre half-drawn, as she perceived what they were that hopped and waddled from the doorway of the edifice in respond to Ithilwen's call. She knew these creatures from the tell of Eldamar... Kaaroks! And yet... Ithilwen laughed;

'La! Beset yourself not with stern concern, Mistress Staisha, for these are not as you would seemingly suppose. They are Kaarenoks. They are close in kind to Kaarok; but are not the same. Behold; their plumage is of another hue... as are their eyes. They are, in truth, creatures of The Darkness, but held in bind to The Light by sturdy spell-casting of the Ancient Moon-Magic.'

Staisha beheld these creatures in close sum. T'was truth; their feathers were the glossy, blue-blackness of a raven's wing, and not the retchworthy hue of a carcass that has laid festering in the sun for close on a Se'nnight. They squatted upon sturdy, scaly legs beset with great evilly-taloned feet... as did the Kaarok; and too, they bore not eyes to either side of their head, as does a bird. As like, an Owl, both were set to front of their head, peering forward.

These eyes though, were not, as Eldamar had recounted…a bilious green, and slitted red, as like, some dreadful serpent. These eyes were of a deep amber hue, and gazed with consummate mistrust and alertness at Staisha. The Kaarenoks possessed a vicious, hooked beak in the manner of a great eagle, yet, had not the scrawny neck of the Kaarok. 'Nay, t'was as if they possessed no neck at all.

Five of these creatures waddled forth. Each held some two, and one-half cubits in standing, and as they stretched wing in the openness, it could be seen that they possessed of span well beyond three, and one-half cubits. Each wore a collar upon which was crafted a golden Lothluthil Rowan leaf... being the cipher of Elaiana… "She, who is the Wellspring of All Being". Staisha laid watchful regard to these creatures, her hand yet to her sabre hilt, as Ithilwen spoke again;

'See now, there is little to fear in this place. My Storm Linnets will shred Shadow-Wraiths, and my Kaarenoks will slaughter Chutaks. For though they are not the same, they still possess the humour of their flesh-eating kin. They are not though, so singularly dim-witted as are the Kaaroks. They attack in throng, but each prosecutes its imposition of doom in manner specific to its choosing. They are from far to the northerly-west, beyond the Yeranoor Shadowlands. Torbair brought them to me as fledglings when, at the first, the Chutaks were known to be abroad. Their keeper told that they could take off a head with one snap of their beak, for t'is 'nigh as keen as the finest forged, Leissor blade. We have tutored them in mayhems, and Torbair has bound them about with his Ancient Moon-Magic; and so, I am not a'feared of Darkling incurse. N'eretheless, I am beholden to you for your regard and foretoken.'

The Kaarenoks clustered about Ithilwen as would, perhaps, rootling hens. Still they watched Staisha with ill-cloaked presentiment; laying sturdy counsel with ominous growl that she would be wise not to achieve a closer stand to Ithilwen than she now embraced. Staisha regarded these frightensome creatures with not a slender measure of dubiety. She kept her hand to her sabre hilt. T'was all very well for Ithilwen to proclaim them tutored. But, how well-bound were they by this Moon-Magic? Were it laid to her, she would not esteem them any further than she might tumble them to distance. She gave chary regard at these vicious creatures once again, then spoke to Ithilwen in the depart;

'When Torbair returns, I would bid you apprise him of what has come to passing. T'would seem you are secure in this place, yet methinks, t'would be singularly prudent to contemplate such tell that I have laid here in regard of the Darklings' pertinacious winnow of your Wiccen Rede sisters. I shall bid you farewell, Ithilwen Silverleaf, for I must away to the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere to lay the tell upon Marcus and Chelaine. May Elaiana… "She, who is the Wellspring of All Being," hold you and yours, safe-embraced in Her Dreaming.'

Staisha turned and walked carefully away to where her gryphon rested. She could feel the rancorous, amber stare of the Kaarenoks boring into her back as she accomplished distance from them. She mounted her gryphon and turned it away as it spread wing and rose up into the skies. Her escort formed about her, and they departed the clearing wherein lay the steading of Ithilwen Silverleaf and Torbair of Aiuthal. And, in truth; never was she so thankful to betake herself away from any place in her remembrance.

As they progressed out of Elisriendell, and the deep greening thinned to the golden meadows of the Amriath plain, Staisha was not a little unsettled by the remembrance of the baleful amber gaze of the Kaarenoks. It must be that Torbair and Ithilwen had full grasp of what they had received into their steading. Her best hope was that the binding of Moon Magic was of a sturdy spellcasting. For these Kaarenoks might not be of the same ilk as their kin… the Kaarok; but… should the binding fail, then Torbair and Ithilwen; no matter that they were each, consummate enchanters; would, as like... 'an the Kaarenoks recurred to The Darkness; have slimmer chance of prevailment than some harvest mouse in a barley field, beset by the threshing flail.

She was still troubled in sum, as they made sight of the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere. Her flight of gryphons circled about the shining spires and settled upon the sandy causeway. From out of the Great Crystal Gate came Marcus and Chelaine in welcome. Staisha made dismount and progressed the remain of the sandy causeway to where they awaited her. They perceived the solemn countenance of the bond-mate of their son and were beset with worry and concern.

What was amiss? Did all stand well at Calverstock? Staisha lay the tell before them in all its direful sum. They made sturdy require that she and her escort come into the Castle for refreshment of victuals and drink. The gryphons would be attended by Marcus's ostler, and she was to effect the full sum of tell once again. Having hearkened to Staisha; Chelaine stood, and turned to Marcus. She spoke; her voice steady, yet resigned…

'Methinks t'is time to bring out once more, your great Guardian sword, "Farahuine"... "Hunter of Darkness," and my mother's Great Sword of Shandalar, "Arnsulforth"... also called "Blizzard of The North"; together with my mother's armour which we laid safe in the Undercroft in hope that t'would be a sturdy reach of time before they were needed once more. But, t'would seem, my Love, that span of sturdy reach was not to be so sturdy as we had hoped.'

Marcus nodded;

'We needs must gather the Council of The Light together. T'is of little doubt, my father will be here, by and by… and then we shall see.'

Meantime, at Arlanronde, Eldamar elected that despatches be hawk-flown out to each and all of the Realms in summons to the Great Council of The Light. The Council would gather at the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere. It was prevised that the Great Crystal Castle lay situate at sturdiest span of distance within Amriath than any other, from the compass of the Enchanted Girdle. This Council would now be prevailed upon to craft a plan of defence for future days. Here, within the great crystal walls, there could be no covert pry by Darkling spies as might be abroad, for the Great Crystal Castle embraced a secret.

In times, ancient… and long-cast from remembrance, there had been no castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere. More; there had been 'naught, but a great, rock-crystal boulder that towered into the skies, standing manifest across the plains of the Wild Wooded Lands. A great Wraith-Hunter Warlord, who held name: Maegysse; had elected that this place would make a worthy stronghold for his self-perceived standing; and so, had yoked into thraldom the commonage that dwelt thereabouts.

Through the passing of many summers, they had carved out the great boulder to fashion his Fortress. It was a coarse-crafted and vulgar, yet sturdy edifice; and the Warlord was well content with the endeavour. It mattered not, that many hundreds of his thralled craftsmen had perished in the raising of this place; it mattered not that the defences were flawed. He was Warlord, not warrior, and it suited his purpose to be held in fear and awe in his supposed Realm, which was, in truth, not his, to have and to hold.

For many summers, Maegysse subjugated the commonage, 'till, when came the day when the Masters of Elisriendell at last chose to perceive him as threat. His Fortress was laid siege to, and he was tumbled from his imposed mastery. The edifice stood now, as spoils of War... yet, none would choose to take it in fiefdom. In truth, it gave offence to the gaze of the Moon-Algethi of Elisriendell, being crudely hewn, and lacking any whit of elegance.

At length, the artisans of Elisriendell were gathered by the then-Lord of the Council of Elisriendell, and commanded to fashion a worthy place from out of this blight to their perspicacity. They accomplished this toilsome assay of their craft beyond all perceived imagine. From the blemish on the Mere there rose in time, the Great Crystal Castle that prevails even to this day. Standing graceful and polished; its spires and towers soared elegantly into the skies.

Its walls were cut with galleries and passages; flying buttresses arched from walls to towers. Within the heart of the Castle, a Lustrous, and Luminous Great Hall was crafted. To the shore of the Mere was laid a causeway, being raised from the spoil of carve, all crushed, until it became as fine as the softest sand. Here now, is the reveal. The aforesaid secret that the Castle embraced, was this:

In the carve and polish of the walls, the galleries, and the passages; the Elisriendell Stone-masters cut each thickness of crystal with subtle artifice in diverse, opposing bearing… one to the next. When the sum of the whole was complete, it could be perceived that those within, could make plain gaze without; whilst those without, could perceive naught but the glitter of the crystal walls before their gaze. This was of sturdy advantage to the sentinels within the Castle. They were bestowed leave to keep a watch about the meadows in surround; shielded from sighting, and cloaked in the covert sanctuary of the lower reaches of the towering walls that embraced breadth beyond twelve cubits.

The Castle had been held by the Council Masters of Elisriendell down the long summers, and it was the Algethi-Lord Laumil's father who had gifted it to Cirion, the Warrior Ice Queen of Shandalar, in gratitude for saving the Shining Lands when she stood, with, but four-score of Archers, and her Bodyguard Captain, and held back the Suhai Horde in the High Pass of Ling. Cirion, who lost her Bodyguard Captain… the Father of Chelaine, in that dreadful carnage. He never knew of the daughter she bore… a daughter who would be named Chelaine.

The Castle had come to the hand of Chelaine, when her mother, through her grieving for her lost Captain, could no longer abide her daughter's presence in Shandalar. For Cirion had grown cold and hard in the passing summers. Her Iron hand touched every facet of her subjects from the cradle to the grave. In her daughter, Chelaine, Cirion could see her young Captain. The same eyes... a deep, summer-sky blue, and that was too much for her to bear. She yet, took no more lovers; for with each sight of Chelaine, he would wander with her in her memories.

So, Chelaine, embracing span of ten, and five summers, was settled in the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere. There was no rancour betwixt mother and daughter; t'was that Cirion and Chelaine elected that this was the better pathway for each to progress. And it was in this Great Crystal Castle that Marcus had found her… and were this not so, there would be no tale here for the telling.

This then, is the Tell of the secret of the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere. See now, why it was so chosen for this most pressing of Councils.

Staisha had returned to Calverstock to bring out Callam, Elshore, and Calelindi, in all haste. As they made approach the causeway across the Cornflower-Blue Mere, they espied a knot of riders at the western reaches of the Forest of Elisriendell. These riders were coming on at stern pace. Scabbard straps were loosed; the riders were too far distant to be fully perceived for naming. Closer they came; hands moved down to sword hilts… then Elshore gave a great laugh.

'Fear not! I know that most sloven of stand in saddle. T'is Torbair! And I warrant, the Lord Laumil there too. The third rider is, though, a conundrum.'

Staisha smiled,

'T'is Torbair's bond-mate, Ithilwen… I communed with her, not four Sundial-shadows since past. They have laid on sturdy pace from out of Elisriendell; and no gainsay to that.'

Callam pointed into the west.

'See there! More riders against the sky. I warrant t'is The Lord Guardian and his company from out of Arlanronde.'

As they watched the approach of the riders from the west, Torbair, Ithilwen and Laumil rode down to the causeway. Greetings were cast all about. Staisha spoke;

'T'is fair pace you have made from out Elisriendell, my Lords; why… I was at my Lord Torbair and Ithilwen's steading not four Sundial-shadows since past.'

Torbair smiled;

'Aye, and laid sturdy admonishment all about you, I hear.'

Staisha blushed, and the shadow of rebuke flitted about her countenance;

'My Lord, I am beset with rue at my unseemly chide of Ithilwen; t'was just that…'

Torbair stayed her with a benevolent smile,

'Calm yourself, My Lady, t'is of small issue, and indeed, t'were sound counsel in what you laid before Ithilwen. Fret not; we are reconciled to the likely peril, and we are prepared. We hold no rancour in this, and that is an end to it.'

Staisha was about to speak again, when there came upon the breeze, the thunder of horse. Turning, they beheld Eldamar, in company with Mallin the trooper, and the Range-Master captain riding in through the last reaches of the golden meadows. Eldamar reined in Starshadow and lay forth greeting; putting question as to whom was here, and who was not. Meantime, Marcus and Chelaine had come forth from the Great Crystal Gateway to welcome them. All entered therein. Their steeds were led away to Ostle, and all repaired to the Lustrous, and Luminous Great Hall. Food and drink was brought forth, and they made repose, conversing on all things whilst they attended the remainder of the Council.

As they made repose in attend of the sum of the Council, Eldamar enquired of Calelindi; why then, was Rhynam not in their company? She told that, in receipt of the despatch; he had ridden forth to the Singing Woods of Lothluthil to bring out the Master of the Nemesis of Lothluthil, and too, the Leader of the Riders of Lothleitha. They should be brought to sit at Council. Eldamar nodded; 'Aye there was the truthing of it. He had thought to accomplish the same, but he had not the knowing of where to fly the despatch hawks; for these allies to The Light prevailed in covert array within the cloak of the Forest deeping.

He knew that the Lead Rider of Lothleitha would be the slender blonde beauty, by name: Mahriel; she, who had donned the mantle of Lead Rider of The Sisterhood of Lothleitha at the behest of Staisha, after her sword arm was shattered at the battle of Rhyddu. Who though, would be the Master of the Nemesis of Lothluthil was not for the knowing. Mayhap, t'would yet be Khaartur... he, who had come to Rhynam as he lay in the Dispensary at Rhom; sorely wounded; had taken up the sword of The Master at Rhynam's behest, and gathered together the Companions to choose by vote who should be the New Master.

Such conundrum as this held, was soon to be laid in reveal; for from the ramparts there came the sturdy call of a signal trumpet. A sentry had perceived, at the edge of the greening to westwards; a bright flash that stood for an instant, swift catching his eye as three riders came swiftly all down through the golden meadows. One was a pale rider. This would be Mahriel, Lead Rider of The Sisterhood of Lothleitha. The companion riders were dark. These would be Rhynam, and the Master of the Nemesis of Lothluthil. Soon enough, they stood in the Great Hall; Mahriel; still, the slender, blonde beauty they held in remembrance; Rhynam; now, with silver creeping in his hair; and the Master of the Nemesis of Lothluthil, who stood, clad in shining black Adamaunte armour, and full, closed-face helm.

The Black Rider divested his closed-face helm, laying in reveal his countenance, as black as charcoal; and they saw that his eyes were bright blue… as blue as the Cornflower-Blue Mere. T'was indeed, Khaartur. He spoke, in soft, and beautiful Charybon:

'Fair morrow My Lords; fair morrow My Ladies. I bring you greetings from my companions of Lothluthil.'

As he lifted helm, there was heard a gasp from Ithilwen as she beheld that this rider was Shalodea. She knew nothing of the Nemesis. What she knew was this: the Shalodea were the Cave Algethi, who stood lacking the Grace settled upon other Algethi. They stood not fully in The Light. They were thought close to Half-Darkling; not Evil, yet lacking a shred of compassion for those who were not, themselves, Shalodea. Thus, they were feared and shunned by all other Algethi throughout the Realms. Mothers told younglings in sleeping time tales... a Shalodea was not one that they would wish to meet on a dark night, when whimpering wind moaned in the treetops and the Moon danced amidst the rushing, raggedy clouds. Thus, the Shalodea were looked upon in the same light as full Darklings. Condemned out of hand, and thus, fully disavowed.

Eldamar spoke swiftly; his voice was, perhaps, a little sharper in tone than the assemblage would wish...

'Hearken you all; and hearken this well. Master Khaartur is a most worthy member of this company. He shall not be embraced in regard by any, as mere, token Shalodea. There shall be no winnow by choice, of companions in this endeavour.'

Ithilwen blushed; scarlet as a summer rose;

'My Lord; t'was but, a surprise at the Master's reveal... I meant no offence...'

Khaartur smiled softly;

'And none taken, Mistress; t'is a common enough respond, and I am well-versed in receipt of the same.'

This munificent aside, freely offered by Khaartur, did little to palliate the dreadful discomfiture besetting Ithilwen concerning her unwitting misdeem. As she strove to redeem herself, Khaartur spoke again, softly;

'Calm yourself Mistress; you were not to know that I am not as I seem. Though now, my hue of eye and manner of tongue stand it plain. You are not the first-most, and, t'is certain-sure that you shall not be the last to be so cozened. And here, if truth be told, I garner a certain dark humour from perceiving the confounded wince evinced by my reveal.'

Rhynam bent to Khaartur, saying;

'Enough of this tease; you should embrace cognise that Mistress Ithilwen is an accomplished Sorceress. 'An you progress this puffery; she may well transform you back to what you were in First-dreamed form…. some bland, and foppish Mal'Algethi wastrel, and not the Nemesis Master, whose very name gives cause for Darklings to fill their breeches in terror.'

The Hall rang with laughter at this aside. The discomfiting moment was lost, and all was cordiality once more. There came the echo of footsteps along the shimmering gallery without; the doorway yawned asunder and the company of Rhom entered the Hall. Tristan and Talith; Calamar, and Trillian came in, and more greetings were cast about.

As convivial chatter filled the Great Hall, Eldamar made sign to Torbair and Laumil to join him aside from the others. They stood apart in murmur of converse for not a little span in passing. Some resolve was embraced and they made return to their places in attend of the companies of Shandalar and Khallis.

Tristan told that he had seen dust to the north as they took leave of Rhom. It was, as like, that this was the ride of the awaited companies. The dust was not sturdy… but the like as would be made by, perhaps, a dozen or so riders. He lay suppose they would be a little beyond one-half of a Sundial-shadow in trailment. Chelaine called for more wine, and the company reposed in mannerly parley awhile.

At length… indeed, little beyond one half-span of a Sundial-shadow, the awaited companies were shown into the Great Hall. There came, from Shandalar… Cirion and Lorimer; Moyna, and Lukas. From the new Shire Seat of Khanlyn: Gwythlyn and Khanis; Tahkaiia and Lokari. From Khallis there came Thoris Barandor and a svelte Thuvian maid… in countenance; a daughter of one of those first Khuzud-Mahin Faluan maids... being the daughters of those few Faluans who found Khallis sanctuary after the Sacking of Rhom.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

She held some three, and one-half cubits in standing; with honey-gold hair and pale-grey eyes. Thoris Barandor made presentment of her to the assembled company. They should make welcome into their midst: Falani Gildar... soon to be Grand Dame of Khallis; for bond-troth was firm-settled betwixt them.

Falani Gildar was made welcome into the company. The Council was now complete. As they took their places in surround of the great oval table, Staisha and Mahriel were conversing Staisha's first-born daughter. Mahriel said that Beshlie should be brought into Lothleitha within the span of perhaps, three summers. There, the Sisterhood would tutor her in the ways of the Riders of Lothleitha, so that when she came of age... at the embracing of her ten, and fifth summer, she could take her rightful place as Lead Rider in the stead of her mother.

Staisha asked; did not Mahriel hold some shadow of rue at this accroach upon her standing? Mahriel replied; this was how it would stand. This was the birthright of the first-born daughter of Staisha the Huntress. This was what would have come to passing had Staisha not been so sorely wounded at Rhyddu. Daughters ever stood in their mothers' stead as Riders of Lothleitha, no matter if the mother no longer rode with the Sisterhood. The mother's standing in the Sisterhood was foretokened. The Sisterhood and she had decided; and that was an end to this matter.

Eldamar was bidding the Council to heed. At the first, there was a bestowal of authority to be laid here. He called forth Khaartur and Mahriel. Standing, he spoke:

'It is the wont of The Knights of The Eternal Watchtower; being Torbair of Aiuthal, and myself; and too, the wont of Laumil, Lord, and Council Master of Elisriendell; that you be both accorded rank of Guardian Companion of The Light, in gratuity of your Alliance of Arms to The Light. Further; Khaartur, Master of the Nemesis of Lothluthil be assigned title, Lord of Lothluthil. Mahriel, Lead Rider of The Sisterhood of Lothleitha be assigned title, Lady of Lothleitha, with such Grace and Favour as is due their Office. The Council will now rise and welcome them into the Fellowship of The Guardians of The Light.'

All there stood, and welcomed Khaartur and Mahriel with much joy and felicitation.

With the Bestowal of Gratuity settled; the Council sat to lay out a tactic of engagement that would be embraced when the vermin of The Abyss marched on Amriath; as they surely would. Callam laid full tell in sum, of what had been discovered in the Yeranoor Shadowlands. He told of how they had progressed a ruined, and wasted land. He told of how there had been no life there seen.

He told of the slighting of Penvallanar; of the dreadful slaughter and despoiling of Beckstrider and Shahran. He told of how they had progressed Yeranoor in seek of the vermin who had done this thing. He told of the Chutak Army massing to the northerly-east; and how t'was certain-sure that his flight of gryphons had been espied as they turned back into the west.

In this, was the undoing of advantage of surprise for the progress of The Darkling Horde. Their Masters would know well, that any advantage of incurse in covert array now stood something less sturdy than a single barley straw in a tempest. The borderlands would be well watched, and any presumption they might hold for covert slink into Amriath was, but, foolish self-cozen. If they wished to incurse, they needs must accomplish this thing by Force of Arms. Here now, in the Great Hall, was not a word dropped. All held the tell in sturdy ponderment. At length, Eldamar spoke…

'There can be no knowing of the intent of the minions of The Darkness. All we do know is, that they will stand any score to tear down the Enchanted Girdle so they might destroy The Fellowship of The Guardians of The Light, and too; those who would come after us... our younglings. This, they shall not accomplish, for we shall engage them as we have so done in times, now distantly past. We needs-must, now take tally of sword that we might array against them. Each of you, speak now of what sum of sword is to your hand.'

Cirion spoke first.

'Shandalar has, in sum; a little beyond five thousand; perhaps… six, 'an I strip the Realm to the bare bones.'

Tristan took up the tally...

'In Lorenfalu, I may raise, but a shadow's breadth beyond three, and one-half thousand, for I must hold the watchtower chain.'

Laumil spoke next;

'Elisriendell can offer four thousand Range-Masters and Rangers; 'an if Lord Khaartur, and Lady Mahriel would have me voice opine... the Nemesis of Lothluthil and The Riders of Lothleitha.'

Khaartur nodded;

'The Nemesis Brotherhood is to strength at four cohorts; though, there are many amongst them who have not been blooded in battle. N'eretheless, they shall prevail.'

Mahriel took up the tally;

'The Sisterhood stands at two-score and ten; as it ever did. We are weary of chasing shadows in the greening, and yearn to slake our sabres' thirst with Darkling gore.'

As she laid this intelligence of tally, she smiled... a cold, half-smile that lingered upon her lips, but was not mirrored in her eyes. It was a smile of sort that, when bestowed by a beautiful, young, blonde maiden such as Mahriel; elicited 'naught less than a dreadful, shivery humour in those there in her company.

Callam was silent a while; then he spoke;

'There is thin tally I can add to the sum of the whole. Calverstock is, but Garrison in name. You needs-must hold in account that Calverstock was, at the first, settled by those Riders of Lothleitha who held the sternest of woundings and elected to remain in Calverstock, as did those of the Companions of Elisriendell who held such hurts of like measure. Such swords that we have, are wielded by those who are hobbled and halted; and many of the maids have taken bond, and have younglings. T'is true, they can defend the Garrison, but methinks they could not drag sword any sturdy span of distance on campaign. I have though, three squadrons of gryphons... two of common, and the third of skirmishing gryphons. T'is certain-sure that I can evince my trammelled warriors to ride them out.'

Thoris Barandor spoke next;

'Khallis can muster three cohorts of Khuzud-Mahin, and perhaps, one half-cohort of Sword-masters and Axe-men. Alas, this my sum of sword tally; for the Flower of Khallis was lost at Ling. I have though, Armourers and Forge-Masters a'plenty. And one thing more. Those of you who were there, will hold in remembrance the black powder crafted by the Alchemists of old Lord Filar, that made great crash and gouting of flame. My Alchemists have recently crafted another fearsome device.'

He told that this was a dreadful meld which gave a spattering wild fire when it struck in midst of its prey. It was commonly hurled from a catapult; the like of which the Horanaurks had employed at the Siege of Rhom. The sum of this horror was this: The Thuvian miners had stumbled upon a thick, black liquid that gave spurt from places where mining had delved too deeply into the earth. Were this liquid to be boiled in the same manner as Alfirin blossom was so done to bring forth Oil of Alfirin; then the stillage sum bestowed by this, was a thin, and pale liquid which gave much reek, and was also efficacious for burning in lamps to effect a bright flame in the darkness of the night.

The Alchemists discovered that if this reeking liquid were mingled with the un-melded sum of the crashing black powder; being charcoal dustings; the pungent, and hand-staining yellowness that steamed from the rocks where hot springs were to be found; and the curious white, powdery crystal that coated the mine walls in ample store, from where the rain-spill water seeped through; then it became a reeking, yet sturdy gruel. If this were mixed with the sum garnered by the boiling of a sticky issue that seeped from cuts made in the bark of pine trees; together with tallow as was used for candle making; the whole could be crafted into stone-like lumping that could be hurtled from the catapults.

Just before the loose, the lumping would be smeared with the thick black liquid in its common form, and a flaming link would then be thrust thereto. The whole would take to flaming and could be swiftly loosed at the foe. When the fiery lumping struck the earth, or mayhap a parcel of foot warriors, it issued forth a great blossom of flaming all about, and such misfortunates thereabouts would be deluged and consumed... for it clung to them... as does honey cling to fingers. In lack of Loki flights to lay the Shrivelling Doom, this would be a most efficacious advantage to prosecute a gruesome imposition on the Darkling Horde.

Eldamar pondered the tally as the Council sat silent. At length, he spoke.

'A little below fourteen thousand; perhaps, fourteen, and one-half thousand, 'an we press the commonage of the Shining Lands. And this against Callam's supposed tally of twenty thousand of these vermin…'

He paused; made shrug of shoulders, then spoke again… as if, in an aside; and bearing a wry smile…

'One day perhaps, we shall engage them when they are embracing equal terms to our company, and stand not in disadvantage!'

And the sombreness of the Council was broken.

Now, they could lay strategy; now the weapon fettle and gather could begin. Torbair elected that he would lay stern scrutiny to the great volumes of the Tarsius of Yeranoor in seek of some cloaking enchantment; should there be need to summon the Alliance of Astalan. For should they choose to ride; their swiftest passage hereto, was to the south... across the Plain of Malphaers. Here, outwards from the Knoll of Rhyddu, t'was, but two hundred leagues. Here, on the wastes of the plain, they would be imperiled by the lurk of Shadow-Wraiths.

If he might descry a sound spell-cast from the Old Magic, he might throw a cloaking passage across the plain, wheredown they might ride secure from assail. T'was a slim hope; the Astalanians might not choose to betide their strength so distantly from their homeland; Ghlinngar, famed Seer of Yeranoor, might not have scribed such an enchantment. But, t'would be wise and prudent to peruse in sum, the Tarsius of Yeranoor, nonetheless.

To the north, in Shandalar; Rethir Elwand, fresh-commissioned Tythe Bailiff of the Realm, rode out in seek of the undesigning and the worthy, upon whom he might settle The Queen's Warrant of Constable. At the first, he chose from those who had fought with him at Ling... the steadfast; and the trusted Sword-brothers. In this quest, he elected the sum of ten. These would hold Office of Overseers, and raise the body of Constabulary from out of their own parcel of Hundreds. In this; the Overseers could choose those in whom they held trust, in manner the same as they had been so chosen. Those so settled with Warrant would, for the foremost part, remain in, and about their Hundreds and reach an accord with each of the steading folk, the sum of Tythe Levy to be apportioned.

Elwand; the Overseers, and a troop of Constables would be stationed in some place specific, from whence they might onset forth to bolster their Constabulary presence 'an the wont prevailed… say; if mayhap, one of their Constables were beset by truculent steading folk. Elwand elected that his own steading would be this place. T'was close-centremost to the Farmstead lands of the Shandalar Plain, and was sturdy stone-built. It held in surround - ten hides. This was, in the main… pasture. The Constabulary horses could graze the same. Here, the Constabulary could be abidingly stationed. This Farmstead was known in name as "Calenlaide"… Green Meadows.

So it was; The Queen's Constabulary Station of Calenlaide was founded. At the first; those Constables granted The Queen's Warrant gathered there to be apprised of the precepts of their Office, and the powers granted to them by The Queen so that they might prosecute the same. When all had embraced these things, they swore an allegiance to The Queen, and too, laid oath that they would prosecute their Office in lack of fear 'nor favour to any.

This done; there then lay before them a tutoring that spanned three moons. Here, they were tutored in letters; in score of tally, and of the art of judicious prudence in parley with discontented Steading folk. This last tutoring was, perhaps, the most weighty of all; for a singular lack of such skill might well garner at best… gift of a sturdy smiting with fist, and at worst… bestowal of a quarter-cubit reach of blade betwixt their ribs.

When, at length, all had embraced tutoring in full accord, they were sent forth to their Hundreds to take up their Office. Here, they would uphold a passing vigil of crop and yield, and when the harvesting time stood 'nigh; settle with each farmsteader a fair sum of Tythe Levy. Were all this attended in cordial accord, then the Tythe would be waggoned away to bolster the granaries of the Shire Seat of Khanlyn, and no recourse be laid upon each farmstead until the next harvest... being a full summer-span distant. However; 'an there was dispute and deny… then the Tythe would be bolstered. Arrant demurral would bring down upon the gainsayer the sum weight of The Queen's Constabulary Station of Calenlaide; and all would be sequestered. That was The Law… and Rethir Elwand, Tythe Bailiff of the Realm, would oversee the prosecution of The Law.

Meantime, in the west; at the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere, the Council of The Light, having resolved the issue of Tactic of Defence, sat in debate of the tutorment of the youngling Guardians. Deem was laid by the present Guardians that the younglings be tutored in manner the same, as were they. In this, there lay a vexation. The first grasp of blade to hand by Cirion, Callam; Trillian and Calamar, had been overseen by Tristan's Sword-Master at Rhom… Aldor Rangoth. He had been lost at the battle of Rhyddu; as had been Cirfin Thadanor; Master of Rhom's Standing Army, who had later taken them to his hand, teaching the secrets and arts of full Warfare in games, and with words they could well hold to their reasoning.

So; t'would seem that Tristan, as Rhom's Master of War; and Trillian, as Master of the Cavalry of Rhom, would embrace the chare of tutoring the younglings at the first. Eldamar would lay counsel of the meaning of The Light and set their feet firm upon the pathway of The Guardians of The Light. The Sages and Scholars of Lorenfalu would counsel them well in the Arts… in Philosophy, in Music, and in Literature.

Thoris Barandor then spoke;

'When I was, but House-Carl of Khallis, and Sword-Master to Lord Filar; I instructed Queen Cirion and the youngling Guardians in skills of the Thuvian Swordsmen, most singular. For though, it stands true, we are famed for the bite of the Long-Axe, t'is our sword skills that fill all Darklings with fear. I shall, 'an you assent, lay such skills into the hands of your youngling Guardians; and favoured, so to do.'

Eldamar then laid question to Elshore…

'How stands your set-aside of stuff for blade-forge? T'would seem that there shall be call presently, for a sturdy sum of blade fettle.'

Elshore bestowed a wry grin.

'I am in receipt of iron a'plenty, and too, a fair sum of Olistalix-Bane in remain for the enchanting. I am though, devoid of Leissor, and could use to advantage, a fair sum of Corbis wood. The forge at Calverstock will not suffice as it stands. Does the forge at your Halls yet prevail, My Lord? For there, t'would be a less vexsome task by the half.'

Eldamar nodded;

'Aye, your old forge yet prevails. T'is bestrewn with curtains of spider-web spin and a stern cloaking of dust, but 'Aye… it yet prevails.'

Laumil spoke forth;

Tell me, Master Elshore; what is your need for Corbis wood? You may rest certain sure that I shall waggon such sum in require to Arlanronde as soon as I return into Elisriendell and command for it to be taken from out of the Singing woods.'

Thoris Barandor took up the speak…

'And what sum of Leissor shall be your wont? My Assay-Master shall lay out his purest Leissor to your require.'

Elshore was silent for a little while. He sat; his lips moving in silent mutter; tallying his supposed require upon his fingers. At length, facing Eldamar, he spoke.

'T'is needful to be apprised to the sum of blade of which you speak, My Lord. Then I may lay the true require before the Council.'

Eldamar cast gaze about the Council table. Then he faced Elshore and he spoke plain.

'From such thought and opine as I would garner; I would deem that you need fashion ten blades. Methinks, eight should be for female Guardians, and mayhap, two Long-swords. What remains of the shardings of Great Shadowcleaver? Have you enough for this task?'

Elshore nodded,

'Aye, My Lord; there is enough for ten blades; being eight sister blades for Queen Cirion's Sword of The Light: "Alasse Nenharma," and two Long-swords. My require then, shall be four bushels of Leissor, and five, and thirty cordings of Corbis wood. Each cording to be as before… ten faggots. No less and no more.'

This Corbis wood was the require for making a charcoal unlike any other; that glowed 'nigh, as hot as the sun when bellowed with spirit in the cradle of forging. Only in this, would the colours of forging then run... as would water, all down the blade… At the first… saffron, then blood-red, thence cherry; and then, at length… pale, golden straw; tempering strength and fidelity through all the blade length; fully trustworthy, with never a flaw.

Thoris Barandor told that four bushels of pure Leissor was a witless require. He would lay forth six… and more if the need stood. Laumil told that he would lay forth the require, and as much more as might be the wont. He would command the Singing Woods be stripped of standing Corbis wood should such need arise. With prudent pollarding, this would stand as no imposition to the trees.

Torbair called a stay to this seeming vie of betterment of munificence. He lay truth that it might squander many summers 'ere this sum of tally for the enchantment of "Niirea-Kalhkari"… the tiny, bright lozenges… each crystal clear, and shimmering like dew, might be garnered. These then, were pure essence of Unicorn tears, the secret enchantment of Lothluthil sword blades. These Unicorn tears were gathered by light of a pale Lammas Moon, by young Algethi maidens in the secret deep, forest glades of Elisriendell where the Unicorns gathered together upon that one night, to mourn the passing of those of their kind in the swiftly flown year.

When such a lozenge was compassed into a sword; be it in hilt, or in pommel… that sword would cleave through all known Darkling Armour. No black enchantment, the stroke then, could confound. And, if so placed beneath firm-pommelled Eye-stones... the like of "Alasse Nenharma," and the other Guardian Swords; then the lozenge; in Algethi, called "Niirea-Kalhkari," would carry the death blow; swift, sure, and certain.

The eye stones were no conundrum. They would be chosen in the manner of The "Cilme vell Kiira"… Choosing the Gems; from out of the casket that held the Jewel-Hoard of Laurelindor; as had all the Guardians so done in their turn.

Torbair though, had a further conundrum. There was, but one gem not to be found in the casket of the Jewel-Hoard of Laurelindor. The eyes of the youngling Beshlie; first-born daughter of Staisha, were hazel-nut brown, softly flecked with pure amber. There was no gem of likeness to this hue within the casket. Torbair knew of only one gem that mirrored Beshlie's hue of eye. That gem was an Amber of sorts; and even then, only one gem of such ilk, specific. T'was sometimes found far to the north, on the shores of the frozen seas of Erinthor.

This Amber was not a fiery orange as were common Ambers; this gem held a much darker hue… near hazel-nut brown. Even as it lay in its rude naturalness, as yet rough-hewn and un-carved; in the light… far down in its pellucid heart, there blazed a spark… a flare of perfect Amber fire. In turning the gem about in the light, it would waken the same, and for an instant would flame like some birthing infant sun; then, in the losing of the light, the gem would slumber once more.

Torbair had, but one stone of this caste in his worksteading and might never hold another; but this would be the gem for the sword of Beshlie. This would be the Eye-stone to be chosen in the manner of the "Cilme vell Kiira"… Choosing the Gems; with each gem chosen, being the colour of each chooser's eyes, as it had ever been.

But then… there was, but one sword… and one sword alone in all of the Realms that was pommelled in Amber. That sword was the Sword of The Light: "Runya en Numen," called too, "Citadel of The Eternal Truth"; dreamed forth in The Age of Beginnings by The High Goddess Elaiana… "She, who is the Wellspring of All Being." This Mighty Sword stood as a bright, shining Bastion against the Forces of The Abyss.

"Runya en Numen," called too, "Citadel of The Eternal Truth"; the Great Golden Sword... as was foretold; would be carried out by The Golden Child to smite down The Darkness beyond all hope of the returning. Was there some foretoken in this thing? Was the Destiny of the youngling Beshlie even now, laid in meld with The Golden Child? Would these two Maid-Guardians of The Light ride out in times far distant yet to come; and together, bring down to ruin the creeping blight of The Darkness? Torbair glanced about the Council chamber and chose to keep word of his surmise behind teeth for the present.

The Council; being in accord with all things to hand; rose, to take of the provender which had been laid for them, a little apart from Council table. Torbair made waylay of Elshore and took him aside, saying;

'I have issue in concern of this youngling Beshlie. I would not lay the same before Council, but, t'is a thing you needs must embrace the knowing thereof. In company of Chelaine, I recently made keen disquisition of the sum of the Jewel-Hoard of Laurelindor. I found no such gem for the choose of "Cilme vell Kiira" as would match the hue of eye of Beshlie. I knew though, in my worksteading I possessed such a stone. It is a rare, and precious Amber stone from far into the north, found sometimes on the shores of the frozen seas of Erinthor. Herein, stands my fret. In my knowing; the only Sword in all of the Realms that be pommelled with Amber is the Sword of The Light, "Runya en Numen," called too, "Citadel of The Eternal Truth" that lies in the Throne-room of The Palace of Rhom.'

Elshore stared at Torbair for a slender span in passing; then he spoke;

'Aye, that is the truthing; there is no other... but; what then, is your drift, My Lord Torbair?'

Torbair stood; sober of countenance, then softly said...

'I have presage in the matter of this youngling maiden, Beshlie. Methinks her Destiny stands forespoken, even as did the Destiny of Cirion. My notion is that The Golden Child shall ride out bearing this mighty sword, and strike down The Darkness, never for the returning. Ponder you this: Two maidens... two Amber-pommelled swords. I previse that The Golden Child and Beshlie shall ride out in company when such time is at hand to affront The Darkness. Methinks you need strive to craft such a sword as will be the match of "Alasse Nenharma"… Cirion's Blade of The Light.'

Elshore held him in stern regard. Then spoke; his voice couched in low utterance;

'I too, have forefeel in the matter of this youngling Beshlie; in manner, much the same as I foresaw where Cirion's footsteps might lead her those many summers since passed. I prevised that Cirion; granddaughter of the Warrior Ice Queen would become the first Female Guardian of The Light in Amriath. She too, would embrace her Destiny, as did her grandmother. She would become The Ice-Queen of Shandalar and crush the aspire of The Darkness in the High Pass of Ling, as did her grandmother before her.

You are true in your embraced notion, My Lord, but… "Alasse Nenharma" was the sword long since spoken of in legend... the one to prevail when at last, came the direst need of Amriath, as had been foretold in the Great Scrolls of Vardabeik. Such Tell was known, but to few. I may fashion her likeness, but there cannot be the knowing whether the new blade will prevail in her imposed ruination of the bane of The Darkness in manner the same as her elder sister. Such cannot be for the knowing 'till she is called upon to betoken the same.'

Seeing the cast of angst besetting the countenance of Torbair at this truthful reveal; Elshore lay appease upon him;

'I shall forge the youngling Beshlie's blade in manner the same as I fresh-fettled "Eitheltuil Eledhwen"... "Wellspring of Algethi Light"... The Lord Eldamar's Coming of Age sword gifted by his father, The Lord Calamar. She was sharded at the battle of the Ragnor Redoubt, far back in the time of the great Suhai Wars. As his young Sword-master, I made redeem the cast-away hilt that had been down-trampled in mellay of battle. Many summers passed until the need of her re-birthing stood sturdy.

The Mordbrood of Valdarthost drew close, out on the Plain of Malphaers; and so, I chose to bring "Eithelhwen" to My Lord Eldamar's hand. I elected that the fresh blade would be forge-cast, for forge-cast blades are indeed, keenest of all. The hilt of "Eithelhwen" was taken with care, from the shardings of what once had stood as her blade. Then, t'was married to the new forging with patience. Soon then, a perfect new marriage was crafted.

Her blade was forged from a melding I call Leissoreum. T'is a thing I have laboured upon for many summers in passing. Leissoreum is a melding of Leissor and Iron, and Bronze in a meld sum, specific. Being far beyond a Leissor and Iron meld blade in keenness and fidelity, Leissoreum cleaves purest Leissor as like a hot blade sunders beeswax. And more; to the meld of "Eithelhwen" was added Enchantment far beyond Olistalix-Bane for this Sword of The Light. At the forging, Calelindi stood forth with a Talisman; a gift of her mother… a pure golden leaf; in image of the Lothluthil Rowan leaf; being the symbol of Elaiana… "She, who is the Wellspring of All Being." In reverence to The High Goddess, I added this leaf to the shining meltings of the Leissoreum. Secret and sacred cantations were spoken by Calelindi as I made the pour into the blade mould.

As "Eithelhwen" lay there upon the anvil, I beheld a true Sword of The Light as she glittered sublime, in the forge-glow. T'were as if she were plucked from out of the dreaming of Elaiana… "She, who is the Wellspring of All Being." T'would be almost as though The High Goddess would ride with them into battle... a Shining Enchantment, not swiftly confounded.'

Torbair had hearkened to the tell of Elshore; in this he gave a covert smile. Algethi craftsmen were wont to preen, and Elshore, even yet… still grasped this prettyism. But, could he effect for Beshlie such a blade in recur? He laid the question. Elshore made respond...

'Aye; I have five billets of Leissoreum still at Calverstock; and Calelindi can assuredly craft for each blade a pure golden leaf, in image… the Lothluthil Rowan leaf, 'an you might lay out a slender sum of your golden set-aside for the purpose.'

Torbair smiled.

'How much of my golden set-aside would be your require for Calelindi to fashion a half-score of these Rowan leaves?'

Elshore laid ponder.

To lay them fair, t'would be thought, no more than perhaps, a quarter-clove in full sum, 'an you might assent to the same.'

Torbair nodded;

'Such a tally is no hardship; are certain-sure t'is enough? For in truth, I would lay out the full sum of my gold set-aside for this purpose. These younglings shall have the finest that we might craft; you and I... for t'is certain-sure that much will stand or fall in the matter of this thing.'

With the business of the High Council of The Light settled in the matter of the defence of Amriath; and too, in the matter of the tutoring of the youngling Guardians in waiting; the Council rose and retired, each to their own homeplace. It was resolved by common assent that, at the first; the younglings would be foregathered here, at the Great Crystal Castle on the Cornflower-Blue Mere to be instructed by Eldamar in the matter The Light. T'was thought prudent to choose this place, being situate furthermost from the Enchanted Girdle. Arlanronde and Rhom; Shandalar, and Khallis were deemed parlous.

Though the Girdle might never be breached, the Darklings might well perceive by chance, the assembly of the future Guardians; and spur their strivings to breach the Girdle to purge the threat of The Golden Child and her peers in full sum.

So it was; in the soft of the summer; the younglings were brought into the Great Crystal Castle to embrace the tutoring of Eldamar. From the first, it was The Golden Child, Kathalyn; and Beshlie who embraced the tutoring in worthy measure. Eldamar foreknew that their Destinies were to tread the same pathway; even as had Torbair and Elshore foreseen the same. In mien, they were as divers as harebell is to barleycorn… Kathalyn's hair was pale blonde with a whisper of the hue of woodland strawberries; her eyes were a shimmery greenish-blue... as like, the throat of a pheasant on a fair summer's day. Beshlie held hue of hair being the darkness of a blackbird's wing; and her eyes were the soft, hazel-nut hue, which in certain light; held a subtle and delicate flecking of pure amber. Beyond such score taken; they were, as if, sisters in their spirit and demeanour.

In recognising this, Eldamar elected to bestow tutelage beyond that which he would lay upon the other younglings. Kathalyn and Beshlie would be caused to embrace the knowing of the precepts of The Knights of The Eternal Watchtower. Before he might uncloak these things, he needs-must seek the assent of his fellow Knight: Torbair of Aiuthal in this matter. Once assented, and the tutelage entrusted; these two Guardian maids of The Light would be enswathed in a mantle of sturdy, invoked enchantment; the like of which, the deepest and blackest arts of The Darkness could never rift asunder.

On that day when they rode out to thwart that, which The Lord Laumil; Council Master of Elisriendell, had given to naming: "The Advent of the End of the Shining Days;" that time he had spoken with Torbair on the matter of the foretoken of the birthing of The Golden Child; they would ride, as if embraced, and compassed around by all of the Knights of The Eternal Watchtower that had ever been.

In this, t'was foretold that The Darkness would be laid to sunder and ruin, never for the return. It would not be This Day that The Dreadful, Dark Entity: "Baelar," called too, "The Lord of The Underdark" unleashed his terrible "Sath-Ninduru"… The dread, creeping "Night of Shadows Rising," with all plunged in back into Chaos, as it had been long and ago, in The Age of The Beginnings. It would not be This Day that The Light would go meekly, and quietly down into the Darkness.