Dragonslayer's Return

Chapter 13 Worth a Thousand Words

The group got back into Tir na n'Og the next day, entering the forest far from the battle lines. All through that morning's hike, there seemed to be a measure of tension growing between Kelsey and TinTamarra. More than once, Gary saw TinTamarra turn an angry glare Kelsey's way, though it didn't seem to Gary as though Kelsey had noticed. Or at least, if the elf-lord did notice, he was feigning disinterest.
TinTamarra would not let go of that glare, though, and finally, with the safety of the thick trees all about them, the tension burst.
"You will take the prisoners, except for Prince Geldion, to the holding area, where their wounds might be tended," Kelsey informed TinTamarra. It seemed a perfectly reasonable command, spoken with all respect. "And what, then, of the Prince?" TinTamarra retorted, his lips thin with anger.
Kelsey appeared honestly caught off guard by the sharp retort. He spent a long moment scrutinizing his fellow elf before answering. "He remains with me until I can decide what worth he might prove," he said. "You make many decisions on your own, Kelsenelle-nelvial," TinTamarra replied.
"To what do you refer?" Kelsey asked, still calm, still of a mind to defuse the situation. The last thing the besieged Tylwyth Teg needed now was dissention in their ranks.
TinTamarra turned his sour expression alternately on all the prisoners, then settled it back on Kelsey. "And we left more wounded humans in the barn," he said, as though that should explain everything. "They could not travel," Kelsey answered, missing the point.
"I think he's meaning that ye should have killed the men," Mickey interjected.
TinTamarra said nothing, but his expression confirmed Mickey's guess readily enough. To the side, the prisoners shuffled uneasily, to a man wondering if their fate suddenly hung precariously in the balance. "That's stupid," Diane was quick to put in, pushing her way past Gary as he, more familiar with the stern and dangerous demeanor of the proud Tylwyth Teg, tried futilely to hush her.
"Why would you kill wounded men?" Diane insisted, moving near TinTamarra - too near, by Gary's estimate. He went right along beside her, though, and immediately decided that if TinTamarra lifted a weapon against her, the elf would feel the bite of Donigarten's spear. Gary wasn't confident, however. The Tylwyth Teg were fast with their blades, and he sincerely feared that any counterstrike he made would be in revenge for the murder of his wife.
Still, the stubborn woman pressed on, fearless, oblivious.
"Are you no more than a murderer?" she said, and even Kelsey, who was on her side in this argument, clenched his fist.
Geno, standing watch over the prisoners, chuckled softly, thinking that the trembling elf was about to knock the woman to the ground.
"Easy, lass," Mickey implored. TinTamarra remained silent - Gary pictured a fuse burning short atop his raven-black hair.
Diane started to speak again, but Gary hooked her with his arm and forced her away, loudly interrupting every sentence she began.
"She speaks the part of the fool," TinTamarra remarked.
"The fool that saved your life," Kelsey quickly reminded him.
TinTamarra's glare fell full over the elf-lord. "They are enemies of the wood," he said. "We will waste many warriors, having need to stand guard over the growing number of prisoners."
"What would you have us do?" Kelsey asked.
"As we always have done to enemies of the wood," TinTamarra replied grimly.
'Then we would be killing potential allies," Kelsey argued. He knew that the elf was not sharing his sympathies for the humans caught under King Kinnemore's unlawful rule, and so he tried to reach his kin on a more pragmatic level. "Many have come over to fight beside us, to fight beside the spearwielder," he reasoned. "Kinnemore's hold is not so tight, or perhaps he grasps at his army too tightly, squeezing men through his fingers. We have found allies among his ranks - was it not two Connacht soldiers who led us to the catapults? They died for our . . ."
"Only one died," Mickey corrected. Both Kelsey and TinTamarra looked at the leprechaun curiously. "I went along for the other's ride," Mickey explained. "He got a bit o' shaking, that's all. And he's in the forest now, talking to his kin, bringing more to the spearwielder's -  and the Tylwyth Teg's - side. Another week o' fighting and I'm thinking that ye'll have as many men guarding Tir na n'Og's borders as elfs."
With that said, Mickey hopped off to join Gary and Diane, who had moved some distance away. TinTamarra had no reply, to Mickey or to Kelsey.
"Bitter times," Kelsey remarked, trying to alleviate his honorable companion's obvious embarrassment. "But we must not forget who we are, and why ours is the just cause. Kinnemore will call for truce soon, by my guess. He is losing soldiers and now" - Kelsey glanced over at Geldion, looking perfectly miserable as he sat among the handful of prisoners - "he has lost his son."
TinTamarra nodded and bowed, a sign of concession, then turned towards Geno and the prisoners. Kelsey stood quietly, musing over his last words. He did indeed believe that King Kinnemore would soon call for a truce, and that truce would undoubtedly spare Tir na n'Og the scars of further war. Ceridwen was not so convinced that she could ever conquer the proud Tylwyth Teg, Kelsey knew, and so she would likely be glad just to have them out of her army's way.
For Tir na n'Og and the Tylwyth Teg, the prospects seemed bright. But Kelsey, with his increasingly worldly view, his growing compassion for those who were not of his race, truly feared that the elders of Tir na n'Og would accept that truce.
"I always wanted to meet a Prince," Diane said disarm-ingly. She sat down in the clover next to Geldion, who pointedly shifted and looked away.
"I've brought some food," Diane explained and held forth a bowl of porridge.
Despite his desire to remain aloof to his captors, Geldion could not ignore the offering. He hadn't eaten in nearly a day, and his stomach was surely grumbling.
Shortly after noon, the group had encountered another band of Tylwyth Teg and had separated, TinTamarra and the common prisoners going with the elfs, while Kelsey led the others on a more southerly route, towards the battlefield and the elfish leaders. The group had separated again late in the afternoon, with Kelsey, Mickey, and Gary leaving Geno, Diane, and the Prince in a clover-filled meadow, lined by a row of tall and thick pines. Twilight was upon them now, the slanting rays turning all the clover orange and casting long shadows of the western trees across the field.
"You took the food, so you have to talk with me," Diane said cheerily. Geldion kept his face low, to the bowl of porridge, but his beady dark eyes turned up to regard her from under furrowed brows.
"Don't waste your breath," Geno, a short distance away, offered to Diane. "That one has little to say that is worth hearing."
Diane thought differently. She dropped her hand into her belt pouch, feeling the snugly packed cameras and the quite remarkable picture she had slipped between them.
"What's it like to be a Prince?" she asked.
"What is it like to be a pestering wench?" Geldion answered coldly. Behind him, Geno grunted and hopped to his feet, hammers ready in his hands. But Diane scowled and waved the fiery dwarf back.
"Fair enough," she conceded to Geldion. "I was just curious about your father and your life in Connacht." Again Geldion eyed her, but he seemed a bit less sure of himself.
"He is the King, after all," Diane went on casually, glancing all about (though in truth, her focus ever remained the Prince). "And from what I've heard, he plans to rule all the world. I though it would be wise to learn more about this man."
Geldion went back to his porridge.
"And more about his son," Diane went on slyly. "This Prince who would one day be King."
"Not while he's sitting chained in an elfish forest," Geno was happy to put in. Geldion turned a glare on the dwarf, and Diane did too, not appreciating the interruption. There was a method to the woman's remarks, a design so that she might measure Geldion's responses, whether he answered verbally or not.
"What kind of a King will Geldion be?" she asked.
The Prince snorted incredulously, and Diane quieted, considering the reaction. Was Geldion brushing off her question because he believed that he owed her, the simple pestering wench, no explanation? Or did the concept of him being King at all seem preposterous to him?
"Will he be a kind man, who cares for the needs of his subjects?" Diane pressed. "Or will he . . ." Geldion smacked his half-empty bowl of porridge away, stopping the woman in midsentence. He eyed Diane contemptuously for a moment, then pointedly turned away.
His anger told her that her second line of reasoning was on target. Geldion did not believe that he would ever be King. But why? Diane wondered. The Tylwyth Teg would not kill him - he knew that. They would bargain with him and return him to Kinnemore when the deal was struck.
Then it was Geldion's father who would stop him, Diane realized, and she dropped her hand to that telling picture once again.
Across the way, Geno snorted loudly. "King of what?" the dwarf demanded, moving near the fuming Prince. "King of a burned-out town that was once called Connacht? For that is all that will remain when the peoples of the land rise in unison against Kinnemore!"
The dwarf's boast brought Geldion out of his silent brooding.
"Kinnemore will rule the land!" he proclaimed. "And all the Buldrefolk will be slain, or driven deep into their filthy mountain holes!"
Diane thought that Geno would surely beat the man down, but the dwarf only blew away Geldion's threat with a simple and heartfelt burst of laughter.
"Kinnemore will rule the land," Geldion grimly said again.
Geno huffed. "You are to feel the same grief as Gary Leger," he replied, and he snapped his fingers (which sounded somewhat like the report of a heavy-caliber rifle) and walked away, laughing with every step.
Geldion hurled no retorts at the dwarf's back. In the course of conversation over that last couple of days, he had overheard talk of Gary's loss, and so he understood what Geno had just implied.
It struck Diane as more than a little curious that the Prince did not seem bothered at all by the dwarf's grim prediction.
Gary, Kelsey, and Mickey returned to the small meadow the next morning. The forest was calm this day; for the first time since the taking of Dilnamarra, Tir na n'Og had not wakened to the sounds of battle. Diane took that as a good sign, as did Geno, and even Geldion seemed more comfortable.
Diane thought that the Prince appeared relieved by the apparent turn of events, and her insight was confirmed an instant after Kelsey made his announcement.
"The King will not bargain for the life of his son," the elf explained.
Geldion's expression told Diane so very much. He was crestfallen, certainly, but not surprised. Not surprised! With everything else Diane had confirmed, by Gary's tales of Ceridwen, by her own talks with Mickey and with Geldion, and by the picture in her pouch, Diane nodded her understanding and believed that all the pieces of this puzzle had fallen neatly into place.
"Then why is the forest quiet?" Gary asked Kelsey.
"The envoys have just recently returned," the elf-lord explained. "Kinnemore will not bargain for the life of his son," Kelsey said again, pointedly looking wounded Geldi-on's way, "but he may yet bargain. The potential for loss has grown for King Kinnemore. His army is bogged down at the edge of the forest. His fires scar the trees, but do little damage when countered by the magics of the elfish wizards. And he is losing his soldiers, by the sword and by their consciences."
Kelsey's smile was smug indeed when he looked again to Geldion, the Prince looking perfectly miserable. "Every one of the men who were brought into the forest at your side has sworn fealty to Tir na n'Og and the Tylwyth Teg. Many of my people have been slain, yet our ranks are larger now than when the conflict began. Can your father make the same boast?"
Geldion turned away, and Diane winced in sympathy.
"So the forest is quiet," Kelsey finished. "And King Kinnemore considers the options for truce."
Geno kicked hard at a small stone - which was really a large stone buried deep in the turf. The depth of the dwarf's anger became quite obvious as the rock overturned, popping up from the ground.
Kelsey understood the source of that anger. "The options presented to Kinnemore call for a complete cessation," he assured Geno. "The Tylwyth Teg have not forsaken the eastern lands. We have not forgotten Braemar and Drochit, nor the Buldrefolk of Dvergamal, nor the gnomes of Gondabuggan."
Geno nodded. He knew the Tylwyth Teg well enough, and knew Kelsey well enough, to realize that the inclusion of anybody outside of Tir na n'Og's precious borders in the bargaining was Kelsey's doing. But though Geno truly appreciated the loyalty of Kelsey, he also understood that the Tylwyth Teg would likely agree to Kinnemore's counteroffer, a set of terms that did not extend beyond the borders of the elfs' precious forest home. The Tylwyth Teg would accept any truce that saved Tir na n'Og, even at the price of the eastern lands.
Kelsey was smiling, trying to assure his dwarfish friend, but that smile was strained, for the elf, too, could not deny the aloof attitude of his people.
To Diane's relief, the others pretty much left Geldion alone after that. She feared that surely Geno might bring the Prince harm, or that, since his father would not bargain for him, Kelsey would send him away with the other prisoners. Certainly the elf had ample opportunity. Bands of the Tylwyth Teg, repositioning their forces as they awaited Kinnemore's reply, were all about the shadowy borders of the meadow, and more than one group came in to speak with Gary, the spearwielder.
Diane took little note of them, though. She again spent her time with Geldion, and noticed Gary's concerned, and perhaps jealous, glance her way more than once.
She was back with her four companions for lunch. Kelsey continued to be optimistic, as did Gary, but Mickey remained quiet (for a leprechaun) and Geno did not seem convinced that the skies of Faerie would soon brighten.
As soon as the opportunity presented itself, Diane turned the topic of conversation to Ceridwen. Kelsey didn't want to talk about the witch, Geno didn't want to talk about anything, but Gary, knowing his wife well enough to understand that she thought she was on to something important, was quickly becoming intrigued, and Mickey was willing to talk.
"I heard that she could change herself into a raven," Diane said. "And a snake."
"And anything else she's a mind to change herself into," Mickey assured her. "Not so much a trick to one of Ceridwen's powers. Ye've seen the elfish weather-magic fighting Kinnemore's fires and ye've seen a bit o' me own illusions . . ."
"She was a bit o' yer own illusions," Gary interjected, mimicking the leprechaun's thick accent, and drawing a much-needed smile from both Diane and Mickey.
"But ye should know that Ceridwen's powers are beyond both those magics together," Mickey continued, his smile vanished and his voice suddenly grave. "She's a wicked one, and not all the magic-spinners of Faerie together could break one o' her spells."
Diane nodded knowingly.
"We have heard enough of the witch," Kelsey said suddenly, sternly. All three, and Geno too, turned to him, wondering what had prompted his outburst. Kelsey started to elaborate, started to explain that talk of Ceridwen only destroyed what little morale was left, but stubborn Diane cut him short.
"Not so," she insisted. "We have not heard enough of the witch. Ceridwen, and not Kinnemore, is the key to our problems, and if I'm going to help at all, I'll need to know everything I can about her. Know your enemies - that is the greatest weapon in any war!"
Kelsey's amazed expression fast shifted into one of respect.
"She's adjusting well, lad," Mickey remarked to Gary.
"She's been hearing about Faerie for more than seven years," Gary, obviously proud of his strong wife, replied. "And she believed my stories all along."
"Sure I did," Diane added with more than a little sarcasm.
They spent the next hour discussing Ceridwen, without any further complaints from Kelsey. Then the meal was finished, and Kelsey asked Geno to accompany him to the area where the elfish elders would be gathered. It was more than a simple courtesy, Geno realized; Kelsey wanted him in plain sight of the elders if and when Kinnemore's response came. The decisions of the Tylwyth Teg had implications far beyond Tir na n'Og's borders, and Kelsey wanted his elders to understand the weight of that decision fully, wanted them to appreciate the allies they might soon abandon.
"Wait," Diane bade them as they rose to leave. The sudden urgency in her tone startled the others, even Gary. Diane took a deep breath and looked straight at Mickey. "Kinnemore is not Ceridwen's puppet," she announced.
No one spoke against her claim, but their expressions revealed their doubts clearly.
"I don't know that Kinnemore is even alive," Diane went on.
"I have seen the King," Kelsey argued.
"And so've I," Mickey added.
Diane was shaking her head before they ever finished. "That's not him, not Geldion's father," she replied confidently.
"What are you babbling about?" Geno, in no mood for cryptic games, demanded.
"I don't know who, or what, the King is," Diane explained, reaching into her pouch and taking out the picture she had snapped of Dilnamarra Keep's front door. "But I know that he ... it is not human."
She held out the picture and the others crowded around.
There stood the two Connacht guards, and between them their King - or at least, something dressed in their King's clothes. The face was not human, with a mouth spread from pointed ear to pointed ear, and shaggy hair everywhere, seeming to sprout even from the sides of the thing's nose.
"What the heck is that?" Gary asked, having no idea of what was going on.
Geno and Kelsey seemed equally disturbed, though whether the sight of the picture alone was the source, Diane could not guess.
Mickey, the only one who had been at Diane's side, remembered the scene when they had approached the Keep, remembered the guards and the man standing between them. And the leprechaun, with his greater knowledge of the machines of Real-earth, was not so taken aback by the mere sight of a photograph. "What is it?" Gary asked again, more emphatically.
"King Kinnemore," Diane answered evenly.
"No, lass," Mickey corrected. "This one I've seen before, and wearing the trappings of the King don't change who and what it is."
"Who?" Gary cried, growing even more agitated by Kelsey and Geno's continued disbelief, by their blank stares and by the fact that even sturdy Geno hardly seemed able to draw his breath.
"Ye've not seen it, but ye've heared it before, lad," Mickey answered. "Suren it's the wild hairy haggis."