Dennis McKiernan - The Dragonstone

During a lull in conversation, Melor gestured at the camp and turned to Tarol and asked, "Why is it ye need a border patrol?"

Tarol smiled. "Two reasons, my friend: first, we protect the Eld Trees. They are precious and we would not have any come unbidden to steal the wood away-such as at times the Rivermen try to do.

"Second, unlike Darda Erynian, this mighty forest harbors no Hidden Ones-not that they would be unwelcome; nay, they would be greeted with open arms."

"Oh," exclaimed Melor. "Do they shun Darda Galion? If so, why?"

Tarol sighed and shook his head. "They do not, as you say, shun these woods. Instead, none dwell herein because this forest was not in existence when the Fey came unto Mithgar; they put down their roots elsewhere."

Silverleaf nodded in agreement. "Aye. 'Tis true. They were well settled in Darda Erynian even as we began riding the dawn to bring the seedlings from the High Plane to this land of many rivers. As Coron of the forest aborning, I sent emissaries unto the Hidden Ones to welcome them to abide herein. They declined. -Not out of malice or dislike, but simply because they were favorably set in their own warded wood."

Tarol turned to Silverleaf. "Thou wert Coron of Darda Galion?"

"Aye, once, long apast, when the forest was but yea high." Vanidar held his hand a foot or so above the ground. "But then my interest was drawn elsewhere and Elmaron took on the task."

Tarol looked 'round at the immense trees, then canted his head to Vanidar. "Well done, Silverleaf. Well done."

Vanidar smiled but said nought.

Melor peered deeply into the shadows of the Eldwood, then said, "Hm. No Hidden Ones. It must be… lonely."

Tarol shrugged. "Mayhap. I cannot say, for I have dwelled only in Darda Galion since riding the dawn."

Melor reached out and clapped Tarol on the shoulder. "Wert thou to come among the Fey, thou wouldst discover they are boon."

In the aftermath of their meal, while taking tea and bits of mian, Vanidar asked, "Tarol, what are these rumors concerning the Rivermen?"

Tarol replenished his cup and Melor's as well. As he set the pot back on the grille-"Ill words, my friend, ill words. It seems that too many merchant boats may be finding the rocks in the Race."

Biren stopped chewing on a last bit of bread. "What has this to do with the Rivermen?"

Perin turned to his twin. "Didst thou not see? The Rivermen salvage wrack downstream from the Race."

Biren shrugged. "Aye. Yet the Race is perilous, and wrecks occur."

They looked at Tarol. He sipped from his cup, then said, "Of recent, too many good pilots have been lost, or so the merchants say-pilots who have run the Race many times."

Ruar helped himself to a small portion of mian. "And thou thinkest foul work is afoot and the Rivermen are to blame?"

"We know not," answered Tarol.

Arin paused in thought, then said, "It would take someone either in the Race or somewhere upriver to set the boats to ruin in those hazardous waters."

Tarol nodded. "Exactly so, Dara. Forget not that thirty-five leagues north of the Race the Rivermen occupy their fort on Great Isle-Vrana, or some such, I think they name it, and River Guardians they style themselves… and collect tolls as protection fees."

"That nest of Rivermen was in my mind," replied Arin. "Say on."

Tarol shrugged. "One possibility is that the River Guardians found that more profit is to be made in so-called river salvage, and with their kindred on Olorin Isle they make certain that salvage enough occurs."

"Hai!" exclaimed Perin, leaping to his feet and flashing his blade on high. "But I would like to catch them at it."

Biren clenched his fist and sharply nodded at his twin in agreement.

As Perin sat back down, Rissa asked, "Is aught being done to confirm or lay to rest these rumors?"

Tarol nodded. "The woodsmen of the vales-the Baeron-now set watch on both the Race and the fortress isle, while we keep an eye on Olorin."

"Huah, Baeron on watch upriver?" exclaimed Ruar, cocking a skeptical eyebrow. "We saw them not."

Vanidar smiled. "That is because they did not wish to be seen, my friend."

Soon the change of shift was complete; the returning Lian took their meals and conversed a bit, and then settled down to sleep. At last the seven took to their bedrolls as well, guarded this night by others.

A sweet caroling heralded dawn as the Vani lerihha sang high in the boughs overhead, the Silverlarks having flown in-between with the coming of the sun.

Arin yawned and stretched and rubbed her eyes and peered up among the shadowy leaves of the enormous trees, trying to espy one of the warblers. Where art thou, little Silverlark? Thou hast ridden the dawn from the High Plane to here and I would see thee ere thou return to Adonar with the setting of the sun. A silvery grey flash caught her eye as one of the larks darted away. Arin sighed. Aye, little bird, thou hast the right of it, flying off on a venture of thine own. 'Tis time we, too, set forth. She sat up and looked 'round at the others, most of whom were awake as well.

After the breaking of fast, the seven set forth amid fare-thee-wells from the march wardens, Tarol wishing them fortune on their mission. And into the towering forest they rode at a canter.

Through the soft shadows of the great trees wended their trail, the hoofbeats of the horses muffled by moss underfoot, and what little sound they made was lost in the dimlit galleries below the umbrous interlace high overhead.

As they passed among the massive boles, Arin studied the Eld Trees: mighty were these great-girthed sylvan giants, soaring into the sky. And even though the morning sun shone brightly, down below in the forest the world took on the cast of twilight… for these were Eld Trees from the High Plane, from Adonar, and Elves lived among them, and so the leaves turned dusky green and gathered the gloaming.

At one point when the Elves had dismounted to walk the horses through the quiet of the woods, Arin turned to Rissa and asked, "How tall wouldst thou say these stand?"

"The trees?"

"Aye."

Rissa looked into the branches above, gauging. "Vanidar says out here near the marge they are not as tall as those deep in the central woods, for these were planted last." Rissa raised her voice and called out to Silverleaf: "Chier, what is the measure of these trees… their height?"

Without turning, Vanidar called back, "I would judge that if we could step up their sides, one hundred or so Lian strides would pace the full length of each; yet the first ones we planted nigh Wood's-heart stand at least a hundred and eighty paces tall."

Arin glanced ahead at Silverleaf walking and judged what his stride might be-a bit less than a yard when stepping out a measure. "Then it is as I thought: these are not yet as great as the trees in Adonar."

With his free hand, Vanidar made a negating gesture. "Nay, they yet have tens of millennia to grow ere reaching their full height."

Arin gazed into the twilit galleries. "The trees, Vanidar, they gather twilight in the presence of Elvenkind. Dost thou know how they do such?"

Silverleaf turned and smiled and shook his head. "Nay, Ring. I can only say that somehow the trees sense Elvenkind. Somehow we are connected."

Arin glanced at Rissa, but she tilted her head and shrugged. "If someone knows, 'tis not I."

Arin nodded and fell into silence as onward they strode. At last they mounted again and continued riding southwesterly, Vanidar aiming for a ford across the River Rothro some thirty miles hence. The Eldwood was a land replete with rivers-the Rothro, the Quadrill, the Cellener, and the Nith, and all of their tributaries-their sparkling waters flowing down from the wold and from the nearby Grimwall Mountains to course easterly through the forest and issue at last into the broad rush of the mighty Argon. In all, the Elven band would have to cross two of the great forest's primary rivers-the Rothro and the Quadrill-though they would splash through many of the lesser streams.