—<ELEVEN>—

A Beacon of Hope

Once more Alith found himself in the mountains, though this time he was not alone. The group had ridden north from the caves and then turned eastwards. Alith’s craft had allowed them to avoid their pursuers in the foothills before turning north again. It was the morning of the sixth day of their flight when Lirian reined her horse in beside Alith’s.

“Why are we heading north?” she asked. “The Pass of the Eagle is south. There is no way north to Ellyrion.”

“We are not going to Ellyrion,” Alith told her. “We head for Nagarythe.”

“Nagarythe?” Lirian gasped. She tugged her horse to a stop and Alith paused beside her. “Nagarythe is the last place we need to go. It is the Naggarothi who want to take my son!”

Heileth came alongside.

“What is the delay?” she said.

“He is taking us to Nagarythe,” Lirian said shrilly, as if accusing Alith of wanting to kill them all in their sleep.

“Not all of Nagarythe is ruled by Morathi,” Alith said. “We will be safe in the lands of my family. Safer than anywhere else. The cults are everywhere, even in Ellyrion. Do you trust me?”

“No,” said Lirian.

“How can we be sure you will not abandon us?” said Heileth.

“I gave my vow to Yeasir to protect you,” replied Alith. “It is my duty to see you all safe.”

“And what is the word of a Naggarothi worth these days?” said Lirian. “Perhaps we should return to Tor Anroc and ask them?”

“Not all Naggarothi are the same,” Alith replied hotly. “Some of us still value honour and freedom. We are the true Naggarothi. We have a name for those who have occupied Tor Anroc—druchii.”

Lirian was still uncertain, though Heileth looked more convinced. She was also Naggarothi and understood better the divisions that had grown there. She turned to Lirian and spoke softly.

“What Alith says is true,” she said. “Not all Naggarothi pray to dark gods nor seek to enslave others. If you do not trust Alith, do you trust me?”

Lirian did not reply. She urged her horse away and turned back down the trail they had been following. Alith leaned forwards and grabbed the reins to stop her.

“We are going to Nagarythe,” he said quietly.

Lirian looked into his eyes and saw no compromise there. She lowered her head and turned back to the north.

Alith had never loved Elanardris so much as he did the moment they crested the ridge at Cail Amis. He stopped his horse and looked at the hills and mountains. He had wondered at times whether he would see such a sight again. For a moment he was lost in the beauty of the white slopes and the wind-swept grass. The autumn clouds were low, but here and there the sun broke through to dazzle from the peaks. The air was crisp and cool, and Alith took a deep breath.

The others had stopped with him, gazing in wonder, both at their surrounds and the change in Alith.

“Is this your home?” asked Saphistia.

Alith pointed north and west.

“The manse of the Anars lies over those slopes,” he said. “Past those woods upon the shoulders of Anul Hithrun and two more days of riding.”

A movement in the skies caught Alith’s eye and he was not surprised to see a crow dipping down over the hillside. It landed on the branch of a short bush not far away and cawed once before setting off again, heading south.

“I shall fetch us some fresh food,” said Alith. “Go on ahead. I’ll not be far away nor gone long. It is safe here.”

He turned his horse after the crow and set off at a gentle trot, his eyes keen for any sign of Elthyrior.

Coming around a pile of moss-covered boulders, Alith saw the raven herald sat on a rock, his horse nearby nibbling at the grass. The crow was perched on Elthyrior’s shoulder and gave Alith a beady look as he dismounted and walked his horse closer.

“I should have expected your welcome,” said Alith. He let the horse walk free and sat down beside Elthyrior.

“I would have said it was coincidence, but I know the ways of Morai-heg better than that,” replied the raven herald. “I was heading north when I happened to see you. What news from Tiranoc? I have heard little, but that has been enough to worry me.”

“Caenthras and others have usurped power in Tor Anroc,” Alith told him. “I am escorting the true heir of Bel Shanaar to keep him out of Morathi’s clutches. I have had no word from Nagarythe for almost a year. What manner of welcome can I expect in Elanardris?”

“A good one,” said Elthyrior. “Morathi has other concerns than the Anars at the moment. Her army is split between those who were loyal to Malekith and those who have sworn fealty to her. She thinks the Anars are a trouble of the past, no threat to her.”

Alith took this without comment and Elthyrior continued.

“All of Ulthuan is in upheaval,” he said. “Only a handful of princes survived the massacre at the Shrine of Asuryan.”

“Massacre?”

“Surely. Though it is hard to piece together what occurred, some treachery unfolded there. The cults have been patient, growing their strength, and now they strike. Attacks and murders plague the other kingdoms, turning their eyes inwards whilst Morathi readies for war.”

“War?” said Alith. “With whom? It is one thing to occupy leaderless Tiranoc, it is another to march to battle against the other princes.”

“And yet that is her intent, I fear,” said Elthyrior. “Once she has full control of the army again she will set Nagarythe against all of Ulthuan.”

“Then perhaps we should allow her to indulge this folly,” said Alith.

“Folly?” Elthyrior laughed bitterly. “No, it is not folly, though there are risks. Ulthuan is an isle divided. No single realm can stand against Nagarythe. Their armies are small and untested, and no doubt there are traitors loyal to the cults in their ranks. Of all the kingdoms, only Caledor perhaps has strength to hold if the others do not unite.”

“And surely they will unite when they see the threat,” said Alith.

“There is nobody to unite them, no banner that they can come together beneath. The Phoenix King is dead. Who else would the princes follow? Whether it was some part of a grander scheme or simple opportunism, the death of Bel Shanaar and so many princes has left Ulthuan vulnerable. If Morathi can strike quickly enough, in the spring I would say, then nobody is ready to hold against her.”

As he absorbed this, Alith absent-mindedly plucked a long stem of grass and began to tie it into intricate knots. Occupying his hands allowed his thoughts to clarify.

“It occurs to me that the longer Nagarythe is unstable, the more time the others have to recover from this disaster.”

“I would agree,” said Elthyrior. “What do you have in mind?”

“A banner, you said,” replied Alith. “There must be a rallying call to all of those Naggarothi who would see the druchii menace opposed. The Anars can issue such a call.”

“The Anars did not fare so well last time they attempted to defy the will of Anlec,” said Elthyrior.

“Last time we had a traitor in our midst—Caenthras,” snarled Alith. “We were unprepared for the foe we faced, isolated and outnumbered. This time there can be no doubting our cause. There can be no divided loyalty, and those families that perhaps once feared Morathi’s anger and did nothing will know that they cannot simply stay silent any longer.”

Elthyrior directed a doubtful look towards Alith.

“How I wish that were true,” said the raven herald.

He started walking towards his horse when Alith called out.

“We are likely to need your eyes and ears in the days to come. Is there any way that I can contact you?”

Elthyrior mounted his steed, pulling his cloak over its flanks.

“No,” he said. “I come and go at the whim of Morai-heg. If the All-seeing One thinks that you need me, I shall be close at hand. You know how to find me.”

The crow leapt from his shoulder and beat its wings thrice before soaring past Alith at head height. It gave a loud screech and climbed into the air. Alith watched it circle higher and higher until it was just a speck.

“I…” he began, turning to where Elthyrior had been. The raven herald was gone, without the slightest beat of hoof or jangle of tack. Alith shook his head in disbelief. “Just for once, I wish you’d say goodbye properly.”

Alith had quite an entourage by the time he was on the road to the manse. Loyal subjects of the family came out of their houses and stores to rejoice at his homecoming. Their cheers and smiles were just a little too desperate though, and the strain of the split within Nagarythe showed on their faces. Alith did his best to remain confident, playing the part of the lord of the Anars, but in his heart he knew that their woes were far from over.

The commotion brought a small crowd from the manse. Soldiers and servants came out of the gates and gazed in astonishment at the return of their master. Alith spied Gerithon amongst them, who sent several of his staff running back to the house. When Alith had reached the gate, his father and mother were striding across the courtyard, trying to hurry yet remain dignified at the same time.

Alith had no such pretension. He jumped from his horse and pushed his way through the knot of elves, receiving claps on the back and heartfelt welcomes. He broke into a run and met his mother halfway to the manse.

The two of them shared a deep embrace, Maieth’s tears wetting Alith’s cloak as she buried her face in his chest. Eothlir joined them, wrapping his arms around both of them. His expression was austere but there was a gleam in his eye that betrayed his joy at seeing his son alive. Alith was grinning widely. Then he remembered his charges.

Turning to the gate, Alith saw Lirian, Saphistia and Heileth sitting on their horses and gazing around in shock. Servants helped them down, taking the children for a moment before returning them. Alith performed the introductions quickly, mentioning only the names of his companions. Though he knew they were safe here, he did not want idle chatter to spread concerning Lirian and her son.

“We need to talk,” he said to Eothlir and his father nodded, waving them towards the house.

“Gerithon will ensure our guests are looked after,” he said.

“Where is Eoloran?” Alith asked as they walked along the paving.

“He’ll be waiting inside,” said Maieth.

Indeed he was. Alith’s grandfather was in the main hall, sat at the end of the table with his fingers steepled to his chin. He looked up as Alith entered, his face a blank mask. Alith felt a sudden nervousness at Eoloran’s behaviour, and feared that he had done something wrong by returning. Or perhaps he should have returned earlier?

“You have been away a long while, Alith,” Eoloran said solemnly. His facade broke as a smile crept into the corner of his lips. “I hope you have been busy with important matters to neglect your family for so long.”

“More than I can ever tell you,” laughed Alith, striding to his grandfather and embracing him. “Yet, I will try to.”

Gerithon appeared at the doorway.

“Your guests will be quartered in the east wing, lord,” he said.

“Thank you, Gerithon,” Eoloran replied. “And please ensure that we are not disturbed.”

“Of course,” Gerithon intoned with a shallow bow. He backed out of the hall and closed the doors soundlessly.

Alith gave as brief a summary as he could concerning the events in Tor Anroc and the circumstances of his departure. The others listened intently without interruption, but as soon as he was finished they had a barrage of questions.

“Do you think the Tiranocii will resist?” asked Eoloran.

“They will try, and they will fail,” said Alith. “The court is held hostage and the army has no direction. If Morathi were to cross the Naganath, I doubt there is much that Tiranoc can do to stop her.”

“Tell me more of Caenthras,” demanded Eothlir. “What was his part in all of this? Is he knowingly complicit?”

“It was Caenthras who entrapped Prince Yrianath, Father,” Alith replied. “Though I doubt he is the sole architect of this usurpation he is certainly one of its chief agents. I saw banners of his house amongst the warriors that arrived.”

“You are sure that Yeasir fell?” Alith’s father continued. “Perhaps his troops will not be so happy to fight under Caenthras.”

“Some were loyal to Yeasir, but I do not know how many,” said Alith. “And amongst those there were none that he trusted with the location of his wife and child. I do not think the druchii will turn on each other, if that is your hope. And Yeasir definitely fell. No warrior save perhaps Aenarion himself or Prince Malekith could have fought such numbers alone and survived. His family is now my responsibility.”

“And we will help you bear that,” said Maieth. “Now, tell me more about Milandith.”

“There will be time enough later to hear about Alith’s romances,” Eothlir said. “First we must decide what we will do next.”

Alith nodded, knowing that it would be well into the night before such a decision was reached. Maieth fluttered a hand at her male relatives and stood up. She stood behind Alith and laid her hands on his shoulders.

“You can’t hide from me forever,” she said, kissing him on the top of the head. She walked away and then looked back as she opened the door. “I’ll find out what you’ve been up to!”

“Give me Morathi’s torturers before an inquisitive mother,” said Eothlir when Maieth had left the room. Alith nodded in fervent agreement.