The Cleric Quintet: In Sylvan Shadows

 

When Magic Filled the Air

What is the delay? came a telepathic call, but Cadderly didn't have time for the imp's intrusions. He dropped the amulet to the dirt and placed his foot over it, then took up Dellanil's book and continued his scan, double-checking his translation before uttering the words to Elbereth.

Where are you? came Druzil's call again, but it was distant, and Cadderly easily pushed it far away. Still, the young scholar recognized the desperation in Druzil's thoughts and knew the clever imp would remain active.

"We must hurry," Cadderly implored Elbereth. "Our enemies will soon understand that we have traveled around them."

Elbereth rubbed his hands slowly across the bark of the nearest oak, gathering strength from the wood's solidity. He was the most nervous of the group. If the summons failed, all of them would likely lose their lives, but Elbereth stood to lose even more. The basis of his existence, the magic of Shilmista, hung in the balance. If the trees did not answer his call this time, his father's dismal beliefs that magic no longer filled Shilmista's clear air would be proven true, to the dismay and doom of all of Elbereth's people.

Cadderly held the book open before him. "Are you ready?" the young scholar asked.

"Flames in the east!" came Danica's call from the high boughs of a nearby tree. Her companions on the ground heard the branches rustling as Danica made a swift descent. "A force approaches swiftly."

Cadderly nodded to Elbereth, gaining the elf's attention. "Seide plein una malabreche," the scholar began slowly.

Elbereth held his hands out wide to the wood and walked around the nearest oaks as he echoed the words. "Seide plein una malabreche."

"Come along," Danica whispered to the dwarves and, somewhat hesitantly, to Rufo. "We shall keep the enemy at bay while Cadderly and Elbereth complete the calling."

"Oh," moaned a disappointed Pikel.

"What's an Elbereth?" Ivan asked, but his wry smile quickly diffused Danica's sudden frown. They took up positions along the perimeter of Syldritch Trea, hoping that their friends would finish before the enemy arrived.

None of them had to voice their fears of the consequences should the summons fail.

*****

The great white horse carried Shayleigh effortlessly, springing over patches of brush and gliding between the tightly packed trees. Shayleigh reined in Temmerisa many times, not wanting to outdistance King Galladel and the seven other elven riders. The great horse heeded her commands, though the maiden could sense from the rippling muscles in Temmerisa's shining white neck that the horse wanted to run strong and hard.

A host of orcs trailed the elven troupe, rushing wildly, hungrily, in pursuit, hooting and howling. A hundred strong, they numbered as many as all of the elves remaining in the forest, and their evil kin, many times their number, were all around them. Soon, the orcs believed, this small elven band would be surrounded and the slaughter would begin.

So the orcs believed, and so Galladel and Shayleigh and the other elves wanted the orcs to believe.

Shayleigh led them into a wide expanse of low shrubs and young trees. The elven riders took extra care to avoid the saplings here, practically walking their mounts and taking no heed of the orc force fast closing from behind.

The elves came to the opposite edge of the expanse, where the forest darkened once more under the canopy of older growth, and urged their horses into the shadows. Just a short way in, they reared and turned about.

Oblivious to the danger, the stupid orcs charged through the open area.

Tintagel waited until all the baited monsters had come within the perimeter of his devious trap. Then the wizard stepped from his tree form and uttered a triggering rune. A score and seven other trees reverted to their true elven forms and stepped into the middle of the orcish host. They cut into the unsuspecting orcs from every angle, each elf felling several of the foul beasts before the orcs began to comprehend what had happened.

Shayleigh held Temmerisa back no longer. The mighty steed burst out of the shadows and trampled an orc, and the warrior atop it bent low in her saddle, her golden hair flying wildly behind her and her gleaming sword hacking at any monster that strayed too near.

Galladel and the others charged right behind, circling the perimeter of the open region, killing all those orcs that thought to flee. The wretched creatures dove and rolled and tried to run, but ultimately had nowhere to go.

Elven bows twanged mercilessly; elven swords bit deep into orcish flesh.

It was over in seconds, orc bodies covering the open expanse. None of the elves held any notions of victory, though, and not one of them was smiling. They knew that this battle was just beginning. Cries of another fight sprang up somewhere to the east, and farther north the enemy had started fires. The season had not been dry, and the fires did not rush through the forest, but they were fueled by the prodding of many, many monsters.

Another group of elves, flushed out by the flames, sprinted by the area, with hulking orogs in close pursuit.

"Take to the shadows!" Shayleigh cried, and most of Tintagel's contingent already moved for the trees, knowing that to get caught in the open was to die.

Shayleigh didn't look back to her king for instructions. For the fiery elven maiden, the appropriate course was easy to discern. Amid all the confusion of the expanding battle and swirling smoke, she had clearly seen a new enemy to strike.

"Come, Temmerisa!" she cried, and the spirited horse, apparently in complete agreement with its courageous rider, broke into a wild charge in pursuit of the orogs chasing the elves.

One of the other riders moved to follow Shayleigh, but Galladel held him back.

"We eight shall stay together," the elf king said sternly. "The fight will come in full, and if Elbereth's attempt does not awaken the trees, our course will be whichever way is quickest from Shilmista's bloody boughs."

The other riders could tell by Galladel's grim tone that their king did not hold out much hope for his son's attempt. And at that dark time, with the forest thick with monsters and smoke, cries of battle erupting from every direction, and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of enemy soldiers moving to surround them, not one of Galladel's cavalry companions could muster the courage to dispute the king's fears.

*****

"Teague!" Cadderly cried.

"Teague!" he heard Elbereth repeat.

The young scholar inadvertently glanced over his shoulder, hearing the fighting not too far away. "Concentrate!" he growled, more to himself than to Elbereth, and he forced his gaze down into the book of Dellanil Quil'quien and looked for the next phrase in the woodland summons.

"Teague!" Elbereth echoed several more times, growing nearly as frantic as Cadderly. His people were dying while he danced about an oak grove; he could not ignore that his sword was needed just a few hundred feet away.

Cadderly saw that the elf prince was slipping from the trance. The young scholar dropped the book somehow guessing that he would not need it, that the ancient words had become a part of him, or rather, that their meaning was now so crystalline clear to him that he could follow the path of their cant from his heart alone.

"What're ye doing . . . ?" he heard Ivan stammer. Kierkan Rufo added something Cadderly could not discern, and Pikel piped in with, "Huh?"

Cadderly blocked them all from his mind. He rushed over to Elbereth and grabbed the elf prince's hands, tearing one's stubborn grasp from Elbereth's sword hilt.

"Teague immen syldritch fae," the young scholar said firmly. Whether it was his tone or his grave expression, he could not tell, but he knew then that he had gained Elbereth's full attention, that by his demands, Elbereth had put the closing battle back out of his thoughts. Elbereth took up the chant, and Cadderly continued, keeping a few words ahead of the mesmerized elf.

The young scholar felt a power budding within him, an awakening of his soul and a strength he never suspected he possessed. His words came faster too fast for anyone to possibly keep up.

And yet, Elbereth, pulled along by a similar inner urgency, caught in the throes of building magic, repeated with perfection each of the phrases Cadderly uttered, matched the young scholar's timbre and inflection as perfectly as a mountain echo.

Then Elbereth and Cadderly spoke as one, the words, the summons, coming from both their mouths in unison.

It was impossible, Cadderly knew. Neither of them knew the phrases well enough to recite them from memory. But the young scholar did not doubt that their words rang perfectly, that they spoke exactly as Dellanil Quil'quien had spoken on a mystical day centuries before.

They neared the end; their phrases slowed as the final runes built within. Cadderly grabbed Elbereth's hands, looking for support, unable to contain the power.

Elbereth, equally terrified, held on with all his strength.

"A intunivial dolas quey!" they cried together, the words torn from their hearts by a power that consumed their minds and left their bodies leaning heavily against one another. Together they slipped down to the thick grass.

Cadderly nearly swooned in truth, he wasn't certain if he had blacked out for a moment and when he looked to Elbereth, he saw that the elf wore the same expression of weariness and confusion. Their companions were all about them, even Kierkan Rufo, wearing a mien of concern.

"Ye all right, lad?" Cadderly heard Ivan ask, and the young scholar wasn't really certain how he should answer.

With the dwarves' help, Cadderly managed to get back to his feet, while Danica and Rufo helped Elbereth to stand. The forest was quiet, except for the continuing din of distant battle.

"It did not work," Elbereth groaned after many long moments had slipped by.

Cadderly held his hand up to stop the elf from continuing. He remembered the sounds of birds in the trees before the summoning, but now there were none. It could have been his and Elbereth's shouting that had scared them off, or perhaps they had taken flight from the approaching fight, but Cadderly thought differently. He sensed the stillness of Syldritch Trea to be a prelude, a deceptive calm.

"What do you know?" Danica asked him, moving to his side. She studied his face a moment longer, then reiterated, "What do you know?"

"Do you feel it?" Cadderly finally replied, looking all around at the great oaks. "The mounting energy?" Hardly taking note of his own actions, he bent down and picked up the dropped amulet, slipping it into a deep pocket. "Do you feel it?" he asked again, more insistently.

Danica did feel it, an awakening, a growing sentience all about her, as though she was being watched. She looked to Elbereth, and he, too, glanced about in anticipation.

"Oo," Pikel remarked, but his spoken thought fell on deaf ears.

"What is it?" Ivan growled uncomfortably. He took up his axe and hopped in circles, eyeing the trees suspiciously.

Behind Kierkan Rufo, the earth trembled. The angular man spun about to see a gigantic root tear up through the ground. There came a rustle as the branches of a huge oak began to shake, and the sound increased, multiplied, as several other trees joined in.

"What have we done?" Elbereth asked, his tone reflecting amazement and trepidation.

Cadderly was too entranced to answer. More roots came up through the ground; more branches shook and bent.

Ivan seemed on the verge of exploding, holding his axe as though to rush over and chop down the nearest tree. Next to him, Pikel hopped up and down in glee, thrilled by the growing display of druidic magic. The round-shouldered dwarf grabbed his nervous brother's weapon arm and wagged a finger back and forth in Ivan's face.

The companions didn't even notice that they were all moving closer together, back-to-back.

The first tree, the one behind Rufo, broke free of the ground and took a sliding stride toward them.

"Do something!" the terrified man said to Elbereth.

All fear had left the elf prince. He jumped out in front of Rufo and cried, "I am Elbereth, son of Galladel, son of Gil-Telleman, son of Dellanil Quil'quien! War has come to Shilmista, a great force not seen since the days of my father's father's father! Thus I have summoned you, guardians of Shilmista, to march beside me and cleanse this, our home!"

Another great tree moved over to join the first, and others followed suit. Elbereth took up the lead, thinking to head straight for the battle, but Ivan patted the elf's shoulder, turning him about.

"Fine words, elf," the obviously relieved dwarf offered. Elbereth smiled grimly and looked to Danica, who stood quietly beside Cadderly. Both the young scholar and the woman understood the elf prince's tentative intentions from the look on his face, and, almost in unison, they smiled and nodded their agreement. Elbereth returned the smile and pulled Ivan beside him at the lead of the column. Together they started off, unlikely allies. Pikel, more interested in the continuing spectacle of the moving trees than in anything that lay ahead, came behind.

Kierkan Rufo looked about anxiously, not knowing where he fit in. As he came to trust that the great oaks would not harm him, his horror of the trees began to wane and he found his place in it all. He climbed one of the oaks, moving as high as he could, higher, he figured, than a goblin could throw its spear.

Cadderly continued to hold Danica back as the woodland column, some dozen or so ancient trees, slipped past. "Dorigen knew where we were going," he explained as the thunder of the tree walk diminished. "And for whatever reason, she wants me as her prisoner."

Danica motioned to a shadowy hollow to the side, and she and Cadderly took up a watch there, agreeing that they would set out after Elbereth and the others if the wizard did not appear in the next few minutes.

*****

A group of orogs stared curiously at the spectacle, not sure of what to make of the approaching oaks. They jostled each other and scratched at their scraggly hair, pointing and lifting spears the trees' way in an almost comic threat.

They understood more at least that these gigantic trees were not friendly things when they saw an elf and two dwarves hop down from the closest tree's lowest branches. The orogs took up a unified hoot and one launched its spear, but they still did not seem to fathom how they should react to such a display.

Ivan, Pikel, and Elbereth charged at them, eager to begin the fight.

The lead tree's reach was longer, though, and it sent huge branches crashing down upon the beasts, battering and thrashing them. A couple of orogs slipped away, out of range, and ran straight off, not daring to look back.

"Aw, this ain't about to be much fun!" Ivan roared, for by the time he and his two companions reached the orogs, not a single one of the beasts could offer any resistance.

"Except fun to watch!" Ivan quickly added, noticing an orog high in the air, kicking futilely against the stranglehold one branch had put around its neck.

The surly dwarf grabbed Pikel by the arm. "Come, me brother!" Ivan yelled. "Let's find a goblin head to cleave!"

Pikel looked back longingly to the moving oaks, not wanting to part from them. But there were indeed many monsters about, and it didn't take Ivan long to convince his equally fierce brother that the games had just begun.

Elbereth watched them sprint off into the shadows, falling immediately over a small band of goblins. In just a few seconds, the two remaining goblins were running fast into the forest, Ivan and Pikel hot on their heels.

The elf prince managed a weak smile, and managed, too, to hope that the day might yet be won.