The road west curved through a landscape of rolling woodland towards the sea. The only lighthouse in the region had been a ruin for many years and its position marked only on old maps. Anna walked quietly; the trees there had a much different feel from the pleasant glades around her home. It was a dense old forest of twisted, knobbly wood, the kind that always featured in her nurse's bedtime tales of the fey folk.
The atmosphere wasn't improved by the steady rain that settled in over the region. Her woollen cloak grew sodden and heavy and she wished she'd thought to waterproof it before she left Beregost, but Anna didn't want to press Maya any more than necessary. The housekeeper had been grimmer than she'd ever known her this past day.
....
A chill, damp night awaited them. Anna's skin felt cold and clammy in her wet clothes and she could almost hear Maya's voice predicting her impending collapse into illness. Her mage robe kept some of the water at bay but even that had its limits and the garment began to cling like wet silk. Her hose and skirts kept sticking to her legs and she seriously considered wearing trousers.
After repeated attempts with the flint and steel Anna had to use a spell to get the wet firewood burning but they still struggled to keep it alight through the wind and rain. A woodpigeon fell to Khalid's arrow and the hot broth tasted like heaven in the cold night. Anna studied her spellbook hunched over to keep water dripping onto the pages despite the oilskin tarp they set up to keep some of the rain off, and on her watch she sat stomping her feet to get her circulation up in defiance of whatever might hear. She was glad when the grey morning finally came.
....
As the morning wore on the rain ceased but the sky remained a solid sheet of grey and the air stayed chilly. Ghosts escaped the party's mouths and flew off silently into the forest. The terrain rose and their pace slowed as they picked their way over the rocky hills, the old and disused road becoming scarcely more than a break in the trees. The calls of strange beasts drifted over the hills from time to time but they still travelled unmolested.
Suddenly the peace of the forest was shattered by sharp cries in the distance. Somewhere to their left the sounds of battle could be heard, but strangely they finished nearly as soon as they had begun. Swiftly and cautiously the party moved towards the now-silent cries; if there was danger they were better off finding it before it found them.
Anna hitched up her muddy hem and tread lightly as possible but it seemed every twig in creation arranged itself under her feet and she cringed every time she heard a loud snap. Up ahead the trees were thinner and she saw grey sky. Khalid made a signal and Anna came to rest behind a tree, one eye peeking out. Khalid, Jaheira and Finn moved slowly towards the clearing. After a moment Anna heard them talking and moved closer.
Lying around a campfire were the bodies of four orcs. They lay stuck with arrows but there was no obvious sign of a battle. Khalid plucked an arrow and said something to Jaheira that Anna couldn't hear. Xan went into the clearing and Anna followed him.
"These orcs were practically killed before they drew their swords," Finn said. "You think it's elves?"
"Th-these are elvish arrows," Khalid answered.
"How can you tell elvish arrows from any other kind?" Imoen asked.
"He is right," Xan said. "They are finer than the arrows normally used by N'Tel'Quess. My kin's work, certainly."
The enchanter looked around and called out in Elvish to the trees. Anna started as suddenly a man appeared from nowhere at the edge of the clearing. The apparition walked silently up to them, clutching a bow in his fist.
He was tall for an elf, with long, roughly-trimmed hair of raven black that was braided back from his face. Stripes of what looked like blue dye or paint marked his skin and made his ragged animal hide clothing seem even wilder. An elvish cloak of greenish-grey that seemed out of place with his other clothes draped around his shoulders. He had a fine, proud face but it carried a sternness that made the enchanter look cheerful by comparison.
"Mae govannen, Quessir. Manke naa lle tuulo'? Mankoi naa lle sinome?" Xan said with unusual warmth.
"Mae govannen," the elf replied in a gruff voice.
He said nothing else though, his eyes flitting over Xan and the others in the manner of an animal sizing up an offer of food from a strange hand. The enchanter noticed the look with some surprise but the new elf continued.
"Amin naa Kivan tuulo' Tel'taure Shilmista. Amin fara saura'orqur."
The two elves conversed for a few minutes, and Anna did not need to hear the snippets she picked up to gather that the new elf was a ranger and a hunter. She heard the name Shilmista repeated; if this elf was from that far-off wood then he had travelled a long way to hunt his quarry.
......
Finally Xan spoke to the group. "This kinsman is Kivan, from the forest of Shilmista to the south. It appears he is seeking the same group we are and has found them equally elusive. He would be willing to assist us in our search, if you wish," he said to Jaheira.
"Anyone who can single-handedly take out a fistful orcs before they knew what hit them is welcome with us," Finn said. "If he's hunting the same bandits we are then so much the better. Does he speak Common, Xan?"
"Yes, ohtar, I can speak your tongue," Kivan replied with a strong elvish accent.
"Great!" Finn said. "Welcome aboard. Have you seen any other orcs in the area?"
"None. I followed these orqur from the north. I know some of their foul speech and learned that they looked to meet others south and west of here. They sought kalmindon. I do not know the word in your tongue."
"A lighthouse," Xan said. "They must seek the same place Tranzig mentioned."
He rested his hand casually on his blade and the new elf regarded it with interest.
"Megil Tel'ithil?" the new elf asked.
"Uma," Xan said. "You know of the blades, Quessir?"
"Yes, I have heard many tales of their wielders. Though we are not of the same tribe I greet you as lord."
He touched his forehead and bowed formally. Xan looked surprised again by his kinsman but bowed and spoke polite words in return. Imoen let out a loud giggle at the scene that she tried and failed to stifle behind her fist. The new elf stared at her.
"Hem. How is it that you're looking for these goons, too?" she said, turning a bit pink. "That's awfully lucky."
"I'moruuvanimo took something very precious to me. Shevarash willing I will find him and take his heart."
"Ooh-kay," Imoen said, shrinking back somewhat from the iron gaze.
"Perhaps we should be moving on," Jaheira said. "There will be time for conversation later."
"Yeah," said Finn. "Have you got your pack somewhere, Kivan?"
"I do not burden myself more than I must. All I need I carry on me now."
"You're smarter than the rest of us, then," Finn laughed.
....
They waited while Kivan recovered his arrows from the orcs' bodies and set off back towards the trail. The ranger and Xan walked alongside one another, speaking quietly in their tongue. Anna enjoyed hearing the silvery language but soon realised that Xan was talking about the party to the new elf. Not really wanting to overhear his opinions of them she quickened her pace and walked alongside Imoen.
"So, what do you think of the new guy?" Imoen asked her, low.
"He seems very—intense," Anna replied.
"Yeah, really. I thought he was going to bite me. And he bowed to Xan. That was funny," Imoen giggled again.
"Moonblade wielders are greatly respected in elvish culture. It's not so surprising."
"Maybe not, but it was still funny. I can't imagine bowing to Xan! He's not really the storybook elvish hero, is he?"
"Not exactly," Anna grinned.
"Still, I think he's pretty cute."
"Xan?" Anna said, surprised.
"No-o-o," Imoen laughed. "The other one."
Anna swallowed a laugh and hoped that elves' sense of hearing wasn't as good as she'd read.
....
Their camp that night was thankfully drier than the previous night's although it was still chilly and Anna's bedroll hadn't dried properly. Kivan spent the evening repairing his arrows and tending to the fine white longbow he carried. He had little to say to anyone except Xan and even those conversations were brief.
Anna thought he seemed somewhat uncomfortable in the group; from his manner and appearance she reckoned he didn't spend much time in the company of others, elven or no. She was friendly to him but did not try him in conversation. He had no blankets, and when he laid down to rest he instead wrapped his cloak tightly around him and lay down as easily as an animal on the forest floor. She envied him that ease as she settled in to her own damp bedroll.
....
In the morning Kivan mentioned that he knew a shortcut that would save them many hours travelling.
"The road bends to the north here, following the hills to a village whose people left it long ago. I'kalmindon lies to the south. The way is steep but your feet should manage."
"How do you know all this?" Finn asked.
"I have travelled this land before. If we take to the hills we will hear the sea birds calling by the time the sun sleeps for the night."
"Alright, then. We'll take your word for it."
Instead of following the road Kivan boldly walked off into the forest and the others followed him. As she crawled over and around the rocks and roots in the way she thought, or rather hoped, that someone like this ranger must know his terrain. She certainly would have questioned anyone else's desire to travel this way. The hills rose sharply and the party struggled to find a place where they could all get up with ease. Kivan for his part scampered like a deer. Neither the climb nor the miles they put behind them that morning seemed to have the slightest effect on him.
The trees thinned on the steep hills but the juniper bushes grew thicker and their constant snagging on Anna's cloak quickly became an annoyance. She was glad when Jaheira finally called for a halt and they could rest with their backs on tall stones. At their feet short grass curled and green and grey mosses clung to the rocks that poked through the thin soil. Anna found a patch of wintergreen which cheered her somewhat.
Picking over the waxy green leaves her eyes wandered to Kivan who sat not far away. He ate nothing but drank a bit of wine, and now he sat looking thoughtfully out over the horizon, his face utterly still. She noticed that his cloak was sewn and patched in a remarkable number of places. He must be frugal indeed, she thought, to put so much effort into preserving the garment beyond its life. Glancing up she saw that he noticed her gaze and his black eyes were glittering back at her. For some reason she felt embarrassed and a little guilty, like she'd been caught peeking through someone's window. She stood up and could see that Kivan had proven true to his word at least. In the distance she could make out the grey line of the sea, crawling like a snake along the horizon.
...
"Well met, kinsman. Where are you from? What brings you here?"
"Well met...I am Kivan from the forest of Shilmista. I am hunting these foul orcs."
Ohtar-warrior
I'moruuvanimo-the black beast