Soul Seeker Lasniniar Collection

Chapter Nine-1

Chapter Nine

Strengths and Weaknesses

Iarion stalked up the stairs that led to the northern tower, fuming. He hoped no one would follow him. He needed some time to himself. He reached the top sooner than he expected. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and stared out at the wide world. What had Silvaranwyn been thinking? How could she be so ignorant? She would never understand.

And that was the problem. No one would ever understand. Unless they were successful in their quest, he would always be alone. And wasn’t Silvaranwyn just looking for some understanding on his part? She was the only one of her kind to come on this journey. She had done so willingly, knowing it was unlikely she would ever return to the Quenya and her people. She had come to him, the only other elf in their group, and he had gotten wrapped up in his own problems and walked away.

Iarion suddenly felt ashamed. After all, he had been living with his burden for thousands of years. He had let Silvaranwyn down. She had chosen to come on this journey to help him and he had pushed her away. Iarion took a final deep breath and went back downstairs. He was met halfway by Barlo. The dwarf was scowling.

“What did you say to her?”

“Some things I shouldn’t have,” Iarion said with a sigh. “Where is she now?”

“She ran up the stairs to the western spire, crying. I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t hear anything I had to say.” Barlo’s voice was distressed.

“I’ll take care of it.” Iarion gestured for the dwarf to step aside. He continued down the steps and reentered the main hall to find the twins staring at him. He ignored their puzzled glances and ascended the stairs to the western spire.

Numarin’s living quarters were a mess. Ancient tomes and trinkets littered the room. Silvaranwyn stood on the balcony with her back to the stairs.

“Please, go away,” she said in the Common Tongue.

“It’s me,” Iarion said in Elvish.

Silvaranwyn turned. Her face was streaked with tears. Iarion walked over to her and placed a comforting hand on her back.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I said some things I should not have. My anger at you was misplaced. I’m just frustrated with my own situation. I should have been supportive for you.”

“I am also sorry,” Silvaranwyn said through her tears. “I did not think before I spoke. It was hurtful of me. I did not mean to belittle your problem. I just thought you would understand when the others would not.”

“And I do understand.” Iarion stroked her back and shrugged. “Well, as much as someone in my situation can, anyway.”

Silvaranwyn gave a small smile. Her eyes met Iarion’s and she turned serious. “I am afraid, Iarion. I thought I had prepared myself, but not for this.”

“Do you want to return to Melaquenya? You could probably summon another bird and send a message to the Sintadar. They would send someone to escort you back.”

Silvaranwyn shook her head. “No. The Quenya has revealed my path. I must go on this quest with you. If I do not, you may fail, and my soul will be doomed for straying. I cannot ignore the will of the Quenya.”

Iarion nodded his understanding. He expected no less from her. “Then stay on the path as you must. And if you are ever frightened again and need someone to talk to, I promise I will be here.”

“I would like that.” Her smile grew. “And I will be here for you. I know I cannot understand your predicament, but there will be times when you will need to talk to someone who understands the call of the Quenya.”

“Then you forgive me?”

“Of course. Do you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Iarion led Silvaranwyn away from the balcony. “We should go back. The others are probably worried. I know Barlo wasn’t happy with me.”

The two elves returned to the main hall. The others gave them curious looks as they sat down.

“Everything is fine,” Iarion announced. “Just a misunderstanding.” Barlo’s expression became relieved. Iarion had just finished speaking when Lysandir descended the southern stairs. Everyone looked at him expectantly.

“I do not like what we have found.” The Learnéd One sat beside them on the floor. “Nothing has been taken and the doors were sealed when we arrived. What concerns me is I do not know the reason for Numarin’s departure. From the mess he left, he was agitated about something. He has not been seen for months. He could be anywhere.”

“What are we going to do?” Linwyn asked.

“Although I would like to search for him, we do not have the time.” Lysandir chewed his lip and sighed. “All we can do is ask for news of him as we travel north, and keep our eyes open. Hopefully we will find some trace of his passage. The hawk did indicate he was traveling north.”

“Do we leave now?” Barlo asked.

“We should wait for the cover of darkness. Saviadro’s creatures do not even seem to fear daylight anymore. We need to go through the Narrow Pass and across the Lower Daran Nunadan to reach Belierumar. By nightfall, we have the better chance of slipping past unnoticed.”

“And what about the goblins that attacked Iarion when he traveled the pass by night?” Barlo said.

“Iarion killed most of them,” Lysandir said. “The rest have most likely either moved south and were a part of the force that attacked us on the way here, or have moved north to join the larger force that will attack Belierumar. There might be scouts watching the pass, but other than that, I expect to find it empty.”

“We had no trouble coming through the pass on our way here,” Linwyn said.

“In any event, we should rest here until nightfall,” Lysandir said. “I do not think anyone would be able to breach the tower, but we should take turns watching the surrounding area from the northern spire.”

The others murmured their assent and took a few moments to work out their shifts. Iarion drew the final watch. Barlo got the first. The dwarf climbed up the stairs.

“We should rest,” the Learnéd One said as he settled into a comfortable position. “We might have to fight our way across the Lower Daran Nunadan to reach Belierumar.”

Hours later, Iarion watched the sun sink below the horizon. Its vanishing light bled across the western sky. No creature had been seen near Mar Arin during any of the watches. Iarion mistrusted the quiet. He was reluctant to travel the Narrow Pass by nightfall again. Twice in his long life he had been ambushed there. He hoped this time would be different. He went down to the main hall to wake the others.

Lysandir was already packed. “Any news?”

Iarion shook his head. “Nothing.”

The others were soon ready to leave the protection of Mar Arin. Lysandir sealed the doors behind them. By this time, the sun had disappeared behind the western horizon and darkness covered the land. Linwyn and Golaron collected their mounts, which they had left tethered outside the tower. The twins chose not to ride, leading their horses as they walked with the others. Lysandir took them east along the Traitor’s Road. Iarion tilted his head, mulling over their situation.

“May I borrow one of your mounts?” he asked the twins. “I want to scout ahead.”

“I will go,” Linwyn said, already placing her foot in the stirrup and preparing to mount.

“Forgive me, but you do not have the eyes of an elf,” Iarion said. “Although I do not doubt your bravery or prowess in battle, I can see much better in the dark than you.”

Linwyn still seemed ready to protest, but her brother silenced her with a look.

“You may take Vanyar.” Golaron held out the reins to his dappled gray gelding.

“My thanks,” Iarion said. He was grateful it was Golaron’s horse that was offered. Linwyn’s chestnut mare was fiery and skittish, similar to its rider in temperament. Iarion took the reins from Golaron and proceeded to undo the fastenings of the bridle. He slid it off the horse’s head and began to work on the girth of the saddle.

“What are you doing?” Linwyn demanded.

“I don’t need these things to ride him.” Iarion gave Vanyar a pat on the neck and let the horse give him a good sniff. “I also don’t need all these buckles jangling if I am to do any sort of scouting job.”

Linwyn seemed offended by this for some reason and stood back to watch him with a scowl. Golaron helped Iarion finish removing the saddle, placing it on Linwyn’s mare with Iarion’s pack. The chestnut gave a snort of disgust at the added weight and rolled her eyes to give her mistress a plaintive look. Iarion smothered a laugh and vaulted onto Vanyar’s back. The gelding went rigid for a moment, but soon calmed at Iarion’s soothing, Elvish mutterings.

“I will wait for you at the entrance to the pass,” Iarion said to the rest of the group. Lysandir nodded his approval.

“I don’t like this,” Barlo grumbled. “I should go with you. You don’t have the best of luck when it comes to that pass.”

“I don’t think this is the best time for you to learn how to ride, Barlo.” Iarion smiled down at his friend.

“Well, be careful then! Narilga will be put out with me if she finds out I let you wander that pass alone and you got hurt again.”

“I will be as careful as I can.” Iarion nudged Vanyar’s sides with his heels and was off.

Vanyar’s hooves pounded the dirt road as Iarion headed east. He kept his eyes and ears open for any sign of the Marred Races, but he met no one. The night breeze ran through his long, silver hair as he clung to the horse’s mane. It had been too long since he had last ridden. He eventually turned north toward the Jagged Mountains, slowing Vanyar to a halt. He dismounted and gave the horse a command in Elvish to stay put. Vanyar snorted and bowed his head.

Iarion continued toward the pass on foot, blending in with the shadow of the mountains. Memories of his previous journey washed over him. He drew his knife from his belt, holding it low and ready as he continued his silent advance.

Iarion’s eyes swept the bare rock of the pass for any sign of a hidden force. He saw nothing. He strained his ears to listen for any loose stones shuffled by enemy feet. The only sound was the evening breeze. He moved forward with all his senses alert, hugging the eastern mountainside as he crept forward. When no rain of goblin arrows came from the shadows, Iarion breathed a sigh of relief. He was alone. Still, they could be waiting at the other end of the pass. He didn’t want any surprises while he and his companions would be in such a confined space.

About half an hour later, Iarion cleared the pass. He encountered no one. It was a nerve-racking experience, waiting for an attack that never came. Now he wanted to see what lay to the north in the Lower Daran Nunadan.

Iarion’s heart sank. Belierumar was already surrounded by enemy campfires. It was not an overwhelming force, but it was significant. The dark army would probably wait for reinforcements to arrive from the north before attacking. Their presence would make reaching the city difficult for Iarion and his companions. It also indicated a prolonged siege.

The potential delay gnawed at Iarion. The logical part of him knew he might need Linwyn and Golaron’s help to complete his quest. For that to happen, they had to help liberate Belierumar. How could a company of six accomplish such a thing? He turned around and headed back for the southern entrance of the pass to meet the others.

Iarion did not have long to wait. His companions arrived just after he made it back to Vanyar’s side. The horse nickered in greeting. The others seemed glad to see him. Barlo gave him a relieved smile.

“No arrow wounds?” he asked.

“The pass is clear,” Iarion said. “But the Lower Daran Nunadan is not. It seems the goblins moved north from the Adar Daran after all.”

“One thing at a time,” Lysandir said. “We still need to travel the pass. We should all have a look at this enemy force before we start to worry.”

The Learnéd One gave them a moment for Golaron to re-saddle his horse. Iarion helped him. Linwyn seemed to be struggling between disappointment and admiration at seeing that Iarion had not fallen off or had any other mishaps while riding Vanyar bareback. Iarion reclaimed his pack, glad to have the Levniquenya in his possession once more.