The Forgotten War (66 page)

‘I see the brave human warrior has finally met his match, terrified as he is by a few steps.

‘I cannot see them, you must have much better night vision than I.’

She climbed back towards him. ‘Take my hand.’

He grasped her hand. It was like clutching warm gossamer. Gently she led him through the defile until they stood on a stretch of leaf-covered earth.

‘This way.’

A right turn and a brief walk, and the source of the noise was revealed to him.

This was obviously the point where the water left the lake and headed towards the sea. He stood before a waterfall, but it was so much more than that. Over a series of broad stone shelves the
water danced, the slope of the ground gentle enough for the water to proceed serenely, falling over a low stone lip into a small pool, then over another lip and into another pool. There were many
of these lips interspersed at irregular intervals along these broad falls. The water itself never got to more than a few inches deep and Morgan could see figures above him standing in its midst. He
wondered why anyone would do such a thing with evening pressing on. Then it became obvious.

They were lighting lamps.

Posts had been fixed into the stone somehow and atop them flames flickered and danced. The flames in each lamp were of different colours – some were pale blue, some a rich green, or
corundum, or sunflower yellow. There were dozens of these lamps spread up and down the falls as well as some thirty feet below him, arranged in a semicircle around the night-dark splash pool. From
somewhere opposite him, across the falls, he started to hear singing, the voices of men and women meshing into something ethereal. He had never heard the celestial choir at the Grand Cathedral of
Tanaren but he reckoned they would be hard pushed to come up with anything as mellifluous and dulcet sweet as what he was hearing now. Itheya, next to him, stood rapt, her eyes closed, swaying
gently as the music possessed her. Morgan did not shut his eyes, for in the light of the lamps, the water was changing colour as it flowed downhill, so that the whole waterfall now resembled a
shifting kaleidoscope of iridescent hues. He stood in silent wonder, letting it all wash over him, it was almost like a waking dream.

The night had fully arrived when the singing stopped and Itheya opened her eyes. ‘Let us return,’ she said softly to him.

The same sort of lamps now lit up the defile, so climbing back was easy and they were back into the boat and on to the lake in no time. As Itheya pushed the boat into the lake, Morgan rubbed his
eyes. ‘Am I seeing things?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said. ‘
Z’ezhesheken
, fireflies.’

Across most of the lake he could see the flickering lights of the small creatures. Some were close enough for him to discern the wing beats. As with the falls, there was a shifting panoply of
colour – yellow, red, green and white. It was enough to make him laugh out loud.

‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

‘No, this is just quite the spectacle. I am used to brown and green and grey, not this variety of colour. With this and the falls I have had my eyes opened.’

‘You enjoyed the falls?’

‘Indeed. I thank you for taking me there.’

‘Elemassena, we call them. The “Singing Falls”. In daylight they are equally beautiful; you can just sit, shut your eyes and listen to the cascade. It is easy to fall asleep
and have nothing but the gentlest of dreams there.’

‘The choir, what were they singing?’

‘It is a different song every night. Tonight it was a song of remembrance, of the times when we lived in the plains. Such songs educate our children. They will be singing it at Zamezhenka
when we return and at other places along the shore.’

She moved the tiller slightly and the wind caught the sail. As they moved through a cloud of fireflies, she started to sing softly:

‘And you have a beautiful singing voice as well. We have a saying about the people of Tanaren in the south; it goes: “The only thing wrong with the southerners is that they are
perfect.” I get the impression that saying could equally apply to you.’

She coloured slightly, though he could not see this in the murk.

‘I know your humour by now, so I am aware you are not being serious.’

‘I was when I mentioned your voice. Tell me, are all your songs sad and melodious, relating melancholy stories from the past?’

‘Well, that one is, and I only sang a small portion of it. What is love without loss? What is love without pain? As we remember our ancestors and their life on the plains. We have happier
songs, for other occasions. Here is one.’ She started to sing again but this one was much livelier and half shouted. He guessed it was one to sing after too much
zhath
.

‘And what is that one about?’

‘It is sung at Dromeantele, a spring festival for the young. You may hear it at the end of the evening. It has instructions from a woman to a man on how exactly he should please her. Do
not ask me to translate it and do not tell Father that I sang it to you.’

‘I take it that it is what we would call a bawdy song.’

‘Yes, and not one a Mhezhen’s daughter should be singing to a human.’

‘Have you ever sung it to another elf?’

‘Yes, and he obeyed the instructions, too.’

Morgan laughed. ‘I guess he would.’

The island was coming into view. He already could see it was lit up from one end to the other, and as he got closer he could see how. All of the banner poles and flag poles thrusting up from the
ground were blazing with the blue fire he had first seen on the statue when they had summoned the elves. None of the flags or banners was burning, though, even though the flames were licking at
them. Also hanging between the houses were small crystals glowing intensely with a pure white light; he hadn’t noticed them earlier. He hadn’t looked up he supposed; there must have
been several attached to a series of thin chords and tied to the various roof posts between buildings. As they got closer, the singing came to him again, drifting from the Zamezhenka across the
gentle waters of the lake.

Itheya moved the tiller a little and, as the boat started to angle sharply towards the island, she spoke again.

‘In the forest we have large shaggy beasts, horned – you would call them cattle, I suppose. Our name for them is
strugo
. They eat the leaves no other creatures can; they can
also eat bark, moss, lichen; some even say they can eat the wood. They wander the forest in family groups between ten and twenty strong. Each small tribe is allowed to kill one a year, the larger
tribes two. These creatures are quiet, stoic and dependable. They are strong but hardly ever use their strength. When one is killed, the others, instead of charging the hunter, surround the fallen
one and refuse to move away from it. We have to leave and come back a day later for the body. They mourn their fallen; it says to me that the differences between ourselves and the beasts around us
are smaller than we like to think.’

She stopped a second to check their course, then continued.

‘Do not take this in a way it was not intended, but you remind me of such a creature. You seem strong, gentle even, but I know I would not like to face you in battle.’

‘You are saying I remind you of a cow.’

She giggled, a sound almost as musical as her singing. ‘No, I was taking some aspects of an animal’s manner and comparing it to some aspects of yours. That is all. But I have a
problem. I have known few humans, but those I have met have either been here to harm my people in some way, or. worse, have betrayed us; betrayed me! The
strugo
are never false; their hearts
are always true and dependable. That is where you differ. I want to trust you Morgan, you and Master Cedric, but I do not know if I can.’

‘What of the man who taught you our language?’

‘He was not my only teacher. Father could speak your tongue long before he appeared, but, yes, he betrayed us and his betrayal was great in the end. All the humans I have known thus far
have proven false. I do not wish it to happen again.’

‘Which is why your brother is the way he is?’

‘Partly. He also resents being the younger of the two of us. I am the one born to rule, the first in everybody’s thoughts. I will speak at the
krasa
not he; it is I who lead
the forest patrols, who will preside over the festivals when Father ... is not here. He is strong and clever, skilled with spear and bow, but nobody ever notices, and his resentment only increases
over the years.’

‘Itheya,’ – Morgan leaned forward so he could see her face clearly – ‘I cannot speak in absolutes here but with every fibre of my being I will never try to betray
you. I have no designs on your people; my only job here is to protect Cedric. Really, if I am being honest, you are wasting a lot of your valuable time on me. If you have better things to do
tomorrow, I will happily stay in my room under guard.’

‘The tribe, including Father, wanted to allow Cedric in and only Cedric. It was I who wanted you here, which is why I stood surety for you. I was curious about you. You had an interesting
smell, metal and leather and sweat, and I liked your eyes; they are deep, they tell many stories. So you are not wasting my time, not at all. Of course, you will be on your own tomorrow while I
practise for Armentele. Then there is the
krasa
, which no outsiders may see. You will be sick of your room by the time this is over.’

At last, the boat glided into the harbour. She secured it and together they returned to the Zamezhenka. The roof sections were closed now and the light of the glow stones reflected warmly off
the tiled floor. Small groups of elves huddled there, listening to the music coming from the top floor. Itheya led him to the second floor where a circular table was laid out at the centre and was
laden with spiced rabbit, eggs cooked in a fiery red sauce, apples and blackberries, as well as a large pile of flatbreads. The elderflower drink was there as well as a sweet mead and a spiced
drink of dark berries. Morgan sampled as much as he could. Cedric was there with Terath, as well as Dramalliel and Tiavon, but Itheya’s father was not to be seen.

‘He eats alone these days,’ she said. ‘All these people can be too much for him.’

Cedric came over to him. ‘I have had the most stimulating day,’ he said. ‘I will never be able to set it all down in writing, I am bound to forget something.’

‘Learned anything new?’ asked Morgan.

‘Well, I can awaken a dragon, maybe even control one, and then send it back into its slumber.’

‘You can?’

‘Well, no. But we are getting there. That tooth is the key; if only I had brought the other one. I have given Cenarazh these pieces unconditionally and in perpetuity. I am sure the Grand
Duke will not mind.’

‘Well, you know him better than I.’

‘As in, not at all, I know.’

Dramalliel came over to them both. ‘Well, humans, what are you planning to do tomorrow?’

‘Oh, I will be with Terath all day probably. Your father hopes to join us if he is able.’ Cedric struggled to talk and swallow some fruit at the same time.

‘That is good. Keep exchanging your ideas; it is always good to know your enemy, so I am told. As for you, warrior, what does my enchanting sister want to do with you?’

‘Very little. She is practising for the festival. I daresay I will have to remain in my room.’

‘You will go mad with boredom. I have an idea. sister, come here I want to ask you something.’

Itheya came over. ‘Yes, brother.’

‘You are leaving the poor human in his room all day tomorrow. What kind of host will he think we are?’

‘It will only be while I rehearse; maybe one or two hours.’

‘Why don’t you leave him with me for that time. I have an idea or two to keep him amused.’

‘No. I know what you will do. He is my responsibility, not yours.’

‘And what exactly do you think I will do to him?’

‘You will try to fight him; maybe even try to kill him. I know you, brother; you see it as a test.’

‘I give you my word, Itheya; I will not kill him.’

‘The answer is still no.’

‘Do I get a say in this?’ Morgan asked quizzically.

‘You do not.’ Itheya was pouting.

‘Just let me go out for one half-hour. Nothing bad can happen in that time.’

‘Yes, it can.’

Cedric intervened. ‘What if I go with him, and Terath. I get a chance to see outside this building and our two older heads can keep any hot-bloodedness in check. We can also make sure it
is no more than half an hour.’