Voyage of the Fox Rider (95 page)
Jinnarin fell silent, and once again a lusty cheering rang out, and Farrix raised Jinnarin’s hand into the air.
The crew disbanded and scattered to the four winds. Many of the Men sailed away in dinghies, heading to Arbalin to gather their fortunes, Jatu in the lead boat. Others struck out cross-country, mostly Dwarves, heading for the Red Hills, or Kraggen-cor, or Mineholt North, or elsewhere, Bokar among these.
Aravan and Jinnarin and Farrix set out northeasterly across land, Aravan stopping long enough in the Pellarian village of Whitehill to purchase a buckskin horse and a roan pack mule and supplies. And when he was gone, the villagers whispered among themselves concerning the taciturn Elf with the crystal spear.
Slowly they made their way up through Pellar, camping by day, riding through the night, the Elf ahorse, the Pysks mounted on foxes. They avoided villages and farms, keeping to out-of-the-way trails, for the Hidden Ones would remain just that—hidden from the eyes of Men and Dwarves and even Elves, except for those accounted as Friends. Spring stirred in the land, and water seemed to run everywhere, with green shoots bursting through the soil and early flowers blossoming.
Near the end of April they passed among the Fian Dunes and crossed over the Pendwyr Road. And still they fared northeasterly, for in that direction lay the Greatwood, where they would swing northwesterly and ride among those hoary trees until they came to the Rissanin to cross over Eryn Ford to come into Blackwood.
It was early June when they passed through the Glave Hills and entered the Greatwood, a mighty forest stretching northwesterly some eight hundred miles, the forest nearly two hundred miles wide.
Up through these woods they went, now riding by day and camping at night, for herein the Pysks felt sheltered from prying eyes. June passed and then July, and at last they crossed Eryn Ford.
They had come to Blackwood.
That night, Aravan and Jinnarin and Farrix sat by the fire and spoke of many things.
“What will you do, Aravan?” asked Jinnarin at last.
Aravan sighed, then looked to the west. “I deem I will live in seclusion for a while by the Great River, by the Argon, where I can rest in solitude a century or so.”
Farrix cast a twig on the fire. “Broken hearts do mend, or so says Jatu.”
Aravan sighed. “Mayhap for mortals it is so. But for Elvenkind…I know not. When we love, it is profound. I deem my heart will never mend, but perhaps one day I may come to know peace.”
“Peace?”
Aravan nodded. “Aye, peace. Last night I felt her fine silken hair brushing my face, and I startled awake to discover it was nought but a gentle breeze. Every day
and night it is so—something reminds me of Aylis, and it wrenches at my heart.”
They sat in silence for a while, then Farrix said, “Cherish those memories, Aravan, for they speak of times of joy.”
The next morning as Aravan saddled his horse and placed the frame pack on the disgruntled mule, Farrix and Jinnarin filled their own packs and draped them across Rux and Rhu. On this day Aravan would set out west, while Jinnarin and Farrix fared north.
At last came time for them to part company, and Aravan knelt down and held out a hand, and the Pysks came and touched his palm. As she did so, Jinnarin looked up into Aravan’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Aravan mounted his horse, and Jinnarin and Farrix leapt astride the foxes.
“I say!” called Farrix.
Aravan looked down at the Pysk and waited.
“If you should ever take to the sea again,” continued Farrix, “be it adventure, War, a quest, whatever, come first to the Blackwood to find your crew, for Jinnarin and I will be waiting.”
“And if not us,” added Jinnarin, “then our son or daughter—especially our daughter—should we have one.” Jinnarin raised her bow. “We are mighty fighters, you know!”
Aravan laughed, the first he had done so since the destruction of Rwn. Then he wheeled his horse and galloped off through the woods, the ill-tempered mule on its long lead line protesting but following after.
Behind, Jinnarin and Farrix watched him go. And when he was gone from sight they turned their faces to the north. And with cries of
“Hai, Rux!”
and
“Hai, Rhu!”
away into Blackwood they rode.
Times Following
[…Immediately and After]
T
he cataclysmic destruction of Rwn marked the end of the First Era on Mithgar, for not only had it been a world-shaking catastrophe, but the Mages of Vadaria could no longer freely come and go, and this exclusion was to have profound effects upon the affairs of all.
As to Rwn itself, there were few survivors of its ruin: in the days immediately after, among the flotsam, the barque
Beau Temps
out of Gothon recovered but a single pair of survivors clinging to a gigantic tree. Lovers they were: one a golden-haired Elfess in grey leathers, a jade-handled sword in a back-slung scabbard marking her as a Lian Guardian; the other a dark-haired young Man, a bard, a silver harp slung across his back. Rein and Evian were their names, and they knew not if any of the Mages on the island had escaped back to Vadaria. The rescue of these two is mentioned here in passing, for two thousand years later Rein’s truenamed sword would be given over to her daughter Riatha, where it would be used in the bitter strife between Gyphon and Adon.
As to the first of these struggles, it finally erupted into what is now known as the Great War of the Ban. During this War, the battles were mighty, and the Alliance of the Free Folk was sorely pressed, for most of Magekind was prevented from entering the conflict, trapped on Vadaria as they were, with no known way to cross over to
Mithgar. Many believe that Gyphon had precipitated the destruction of Rwn with that very purpose in mind—specifically, to preclude Magekind from joining the Free Folk should War come, as it did. Even so, there were Mages who had been elsewhere on Mithgar at the time of the destruction of Rwn, and virtually all of these joined the Alliance. In the end the War was won by the Free Folk, though at a great cost. Afterwards, in the main the Mages on Mithgar retreated to Black Mountain in Xian, where they shut themselves away and began the long slumber to recover their
Haunted by the loss of Aylis, Aravan fared to Darda Erynian, where he dwelled in seclusion for a century or so along the banks of the Argon. And then he came to the Elvenholt of Caer Lindor to live once again among Elvenkind, there on the isle in the Rissanin River along the marge between Blackwood and the Greatwood. But his ready smile was yet subdued, and a tormented look dwelled deep within his eyes.
And he bore with him a black-hafted crystal-bladed spear.
Millennia passed, and War came, and Aravan fought valiantly in the Great War of the Ban, and he was present when the Dawn Sword was lost. For many millennia he sought that talisman…and the yellow-eyed “Man” who caused its loss.
Aravan did not sail the
Eroean
again until the Winter War, and then it was to savage the ships of the Rovers of Kistan, after which it was hidden away once more in the grotto in Thell Cove. It is told that during this foray against the foe, he was accompanied by three of the Pyska: Jinnarin, Farrix, and one named Aylissa; just who she was, this Aylissa, is not clearly known, yet some say she was the daughter of Jinnarin and Farrix.
As to the gift given him by the Hidden Ones, Krystallopŷr remained in Aravan’s possession, its Truenamed burning crystal blade devastating in its power. Yet the givers of the spear had no inkling of what they had done
when they had used a Wizard’s staff as the haft of the weapon, nor did they know of the terrible consequences that would be wreaked were the staff’s Truename ever to be invoked.
Lastly, you may wonder, did any of the Mages of Rwn survive? Did Aylis? Did Alamar? Is there another way between Vadaria and Mithgar? The Impossible Child found the answers to all four of these questions…
…But that is another tale.
It is said that when the air is calm and
the water nought but a glassy mirror
,
there is a place in the sea where at times
if you are very still
…
…you can hear bells ringing far below
.
Dennis L. McKiernan was born April 4, 1932, in Moberly, Missouri, where he lived until age eighteen, when he joined the U.S. Air Force, serving four years spanning the Korean War. He received a B.S. in Electrical Engineering from the University of Missouri in 1958 and an M.S. in the same field from Duke University in 1964. Dennis spent thirty-one years as one of the AT&T Bell Laboratories whiz kids in research and development—in anti-ballistic missile defense systems, in software for telephone systems, and in various management think-tank activities—before changing careers to be a full-time writer.
Currently living in Westerville, Ohio, Dennis began writing novels in 1977 while recuperating from a close encounter of the crunch kind with a 1967 red and black Plymouth Fury (Dennis lost: it ran over him: Plymouth 1, Dennis 0).
Among other hobbies, Dennis enjoys SCUBA diving, dirt-bike riding, and motorcycle touring—all enthusiasms shared by his wife.
An internationally bestselling author, his critically acclaimed fantasy novels include
The Eye of the Hunter, Dragondoom, The Silver Call
duology,
The Iron Tower
trilogy, and now
Voyage of the Fox Rider
, to be followed by the story collection
Tales from the One-Eyed Crow
.
Never one to sit idle too long, Dennis has also written
The Vulgmaster
(a graphic novel) and several short stories and novelettes which have appeared in various anthologies.
He is presently working on his next opus.
Click here
for more titles by this author
By Dennis L. McKiernan
Caverns of Socrates
The Faery Series
Once Upon a Winter’s Night
Once Upon a Summer Day
Once Upon an Autumn Eve
Once Upon a Spring Morn
Once Upon a Dreadful Time
The Mithgar Series
The Dragonstone
Voyage of the Fox Rider
HÈL’S CRUCIBLE
Book 1:
Into the Forge
Book 2:
Into the Fire
Dragondoom
The Iron Tower
(omnibus edition)
The Silver Call
(omnibus edition)
Tales of Mithgar
(a story collection)
The Vulgmaster
(the graphic novel)
The Eye of the Hunter
Silver Wolf, Black Falcon
City of Jade
Red Slippers: More Tales of Mithgar
(a story collection)
