The Land of Helakirtor; Chapter 4

King Silintolos departed the house of Ledasir, and with a slow pace did guide his steed toward the shores of Lake Deboran. His attendants followed close behind, their heavy steps marking the rhythm of that somber journey. Of the three riders in his wake, one kept the rear, while the twain stood as guards upon the right and the left. Yet Umma Ledasir rode by the King’s right side, a single stride nearer to the sovereign than the horseman who held that flank. This was a marvel most strange to behold; for though Silintolos governed all the realms of Helakirtor with a just and equal hand, he never did seek to hide his scorn for the ways of magic and the masters of that art. Now, the hour was altered, and Umma Ledasir was the only soul from whom the King might seek succour. Still, to see a sorcerer held in such near proximity brought a deep and sudden wonder to the hearts of all who looked upon them.

The horsemen of Hereyus, arrayed along the banks of Deboran, stood in a splendour never before beheld upon that day. The radiant beams of the sun, a rare grace upon the lands of Perasimonor, began to fall upon the white armour of the riders as they held their martial stance. Thus did the greatest champions of all ages cast a blinding radiance about them, a holy gleam that might pierce the very heart of the darkest realms. In that same hour, nearly all the souls who dwelt in Perasimonor had already gathered beside the waters of the lake, waiting with wondering eyes for the advent of the King. Yea, and this great throng grew ever larger, swelling in number even unto the distant shores of Mare Rumbrum.

As the dwellers of the realm gazed upon the horsemen of Hereyus, a frail terror mingled with wonder did creep into their souls, as they pondered what dark design the coming hour might unfold. The root of this dread lay in the bitter harvest that such mysteries might yield, for they feared the terrible woes that this unseen outcome might bring forth upon the world. Yet terror could not hold their hearts in absolute thralldom; for their faith in King Silintolos stood as an unyielding shield. Yea, from the greatest unto the least, every living soul had long perceived that a grave peril did encompass all of Helakirtor.

Beyond Lunamatlis, upon the very edge of Helakirtor, the seeds of evil did begin to rise and swell. Eryndal, a child of the forest race, had discovered this wicked dwelling during the journeys he made beyond the Hill of Cantet Terra. There he beheld creatures unlike any known race, chanting hymns in a tongue unknown to man, as they fashioned their grim works for a great war. Most fearful among these labours was the forging of swords and maces of a size never before beheld; for if such blades did exist, then surely there must be beings of a stature great enough to wield them. Every flame that rose from that dark place was a herald of new iron, a sign of weapons yet to be hammered in the heat of the forge.

Among the hymns chanted by those creatures, but a lone word did fall upon the ear with an accustomed sound: “Helakirtor”. Eryndal did hearken with a bended spirit; yet this was neither the tongue of the forest nor the language of the moon, nor did it bear any likeness to any speech spoken within the bounds of Helakirtor. Nevertheless, it was most plain that no holy purpose did dwell within their songs; for as often as the name of Helakirtor was uttered, every soul in that host, drawn in straight ranks like a cord of silk, did smite their maces upon the earth. So vast was that multitude that with every blow of their iron, the Hill of Cantet Terra did shudder, as though it were shaken from its very roots.

“TENNA RESSALO FITREL SIMANO

UNDA LOCHTE MUSKİRA LEMATE

MERRA LOSSAS NULLA HELAKİRTORA

FİR ALCOMETİ HULLA TANİNGORA”

This realm of evil did name itself Taningor, and Eryndal, who had beheld these dark signs, spoke all he had seen unto Lady Virgadot, the lone soul in all the wide realm whom he did trust with a perfect faith. Then Virgadot, without a moment’s stay, did hasten into the presence of the high King Silintolos to reveal all that had transpired. Yet Silintolos, when these heavy tidings first did fall upon his ears, found it a thing most hard to comprehend. How could it be that the folk of Lunamatlis possessed no knowledge of such a rising malice? Or had they looked upon this wickedness and sought to shroud it from the light; yet for what cause would they embrace such a silent treachery? While these thoughts did vex the mind of the King, he commanded the horsemen of Hereyus to prepare their arms for the coming strife without delay.

Without doubt, the folk of Lunamatlis were his most steadfast allies in all the wide realm; wherefore the King felt a deep trembling in the very place where his faith was most firmly rooted. For if even Eryndal could behold this rising malice, then surely the people of Lunamatlis must have looked upon it long ago, and brought their tidings unto the sovereign. Yet no hour remained to ponder these heavy thoughts; Silintolos summoned Elemrun, the high commander of the horsemen of Hereyus, and bid all others depart from the chamber. In the moment their gazes met, both did perceive the weight of what had passed, and the darkness of what was yet to come. “Has the day of Algedot dawned at last?” spake Elemrun, as one seeking the truth of his own dread; and Silintolos bowed his head in solemn assent, commanding him to make the horsemen ready for the fire of war.

Elemrun perceived with a clear spirit the path they must tread; wherefore he commanded all the horsemen to don their iron and prepare for the fray. While the host did assemble, he stood by his faithful steed Rosalina, caressing her head as he spake in a hushed voice with Lady Virgadot. She brought tidings that Ledasir was mindful of their cause and would grant them his succour; thus they must hasten unto Perasimonor to find Umma Ledasir without delay. To ride unto the lands of Lunamatlis would require the passing of a full month, and Silintolos possessed no such wealth of time to squander; for they must reach the borders of Taningor before the darkness of the enemy’s assault was unleashed. The swiftest road to this end lay through the heart of Perasimonor; and when Elemrun had bid Virgadot farewell, he gathered his chosen captains to reveal all that was purposed. Yet he beheld no tremor of doubt nor any cloud of terror in the eyes of his companions. Though the work they intended had no shadow of a precedent in all the recorded ages of the world, no man did raise his voice to stay the plan; yet these were warriors who never did refrain from speaking their own minds when the heavy deeds of war were brought to light.

Yet in this hour, the heavy weight of their plight was perceived by every soul, and lest the ravens be swayed by the dark will of Taningor, Silintolos commanded that no word be sent unto the other realms of the world. For even had the tidings reached those distant shores, the hope of their arrival before the shadow fell was a thing most impossible to behold. When all the labours of preparation were complete, the horsemen of Hereyus, led by King Silintolos, set forth with the first glimmer of the morning sun; their hearts were fixed upon one purpose, which was to reach the borders of Perasimonor without a moment’s stay. Wherefore they did spur their steeds through the passing of many days, seeking no rest for their own spirits, and only when the horses did falter in their strength did they grant a brief pause to that weary journey. At the first light of the third day, they did at last pass into the lands of Perasimonor; then Silintolos commanded Elemrun to guide the host unto the shores of Lake Deboran, and he did depart from the company of his riders.

Elemrun, after he had placed the horsemen of Hereyus in a stance of waiting, did hasten unto the side of Silintolos without a moment’s delay, and together they began to guide their steeds toward the dwelling of Umma Ledasir. As the path did wind toward the shadowed forests, the last house that stood beneath the shelter of the ancient walls was the home of Ledasir. And Ledasir, as a token of high regard, when he beheld the advent of the King and his companions, did step forth from his door to welcome them into his presence. Silintolos did cast a gaze into the eyes of Ledasir, his countenance bearing a faint shadow of bashfulness, and thus he spake: “Strength is spent and the strife is sore; grant thy succour and seek for more.” Then Ledasir, with a firm and steady heart, did answer him: “Thus do thou hope, and bide thy time to behold.”

Thereafter the King took Ledasir and his attendants unto his side, and began to journey toward the waters of Deboran. Ledasir stood just behind his right shoulder, held in a proximity most near unto the sovereign; and throughout the length of their path, a ceaseless speech did pass between Silintolos and Ledasir in voices most hushed. At last they did arrive upon the banks of Deboran; then Elemrun and the two other aides of the King did likewise take their places within the ranks of those noble riders.

As King Silintolos drew near unto his host, a little maiden did cry aloud, “The white horsemen bide thy coming, my King!” Whereupon the King, greeting her with a gentle smile, did ask the name of this small child; “My name is Sanderna,” the little maid replied. Then Silintolos spake with a tender spirit, “A name most fair, and a child of such pure innocence; behold, take this as a gift from thy King,” as he reached forth to give her a pouch drawn from his garment. Little Sanderna, with a smile of joy upon her countenance, did bow her head in soft reverence to her sovereign.

The weary watch of those wondering eyes was somewhat eased by the fair cry of little Sanderna; and when King Silintolos did approach the host, every horseman of Hereyus stood in a most wondrous order, fixed in their stance of waiting. While the radiance of the sun did slowly wane, black clouds began to shroud the heavens with a heavy step; then Silintolos turned his head unto Ledasir, who stood behind his right shoulder, and cast upon him a gaze of questioning. And Ledasir spake thus: “My High King, though magic be wrought for a holy end, it yet brings forth a seed of darkness, however small it may be.” Silintolos bowed his head in token of understanding, and as he turned unto the horsemen of Hereyus to utter the word so long awaited, he heard a voice that began to echo from the very depths, rising through the gathering gloom and the thickening mists.

“Mare rumbrum rumbrum, mare rumbrum rumbrum;” with every sound of rumbrum, the heavy tread of the host of the dark realm did echo in unison upon the earth. The army of Mare Rumbrum, led by the wisdom of Belabirdor and the strength of Lord Iranarious, did advance toward the presence of the King. While the horsemen of Hereyus, beholding this sight, were poised to take their stance of defense, Elemrun did stay them with a motion of his hand; for it was manifest that these souls had come to grant their succour. Belabirdor greeted Silintolos with a most profound reverence, and thus he spake; “My King, we are mindful of these heavy tidings, and our host stands ready at thy word; under thy sovereign command, we are prepared to lay down our lives with a joyful spirit.” In that same moment, the host of the dark realm began to cry aloud with one voice, “Mare rumbrum rumbrum,” as they smote the earth with their feet in a single rhythm; and even as the sound of their tread did rise, the horsemen of Hereyus began to strike their spears against their shields in a thunderous answer.

The wisdom of light began to mingle with the mystery of darkness, and the majesty of the high did join with the resilience of the fallen; thus the prophecy of the aggrieved did take unto itself a body, and the truth of the veils began to shine with a holy light. Every soul gathered in that place did feel within their hearts and minds a strange ecstasy, such as they had never known in all the days of their lives; for no cause for dread remained within the dark realm upon that day, as every heart and every hand was bound together as one for the deliverance of Helakirtor. The seeds of fellowship which Vahderun had planted did sprout at last, bringing forth their fruit in the hour of greatest need. And truly, the high King Silintolos, who governed over all the wide realms, was tossed upon a sea of troubled thoughts; for his faith was broken in the very place where he had held the highest regard, yet a hand of succour was reached forth without question from the path where he least did look for such a grace.

A shuddering breath of air did prevail within the bounds of Perasimonor; and this succour which flowed from Mare Rumbrum brought more than a simple easing of the burden unto the King and his horsemen of Hereyus. For without their presence, the horsemen of Hereyus possessed no hope of passage across the tides of Deboran; as it was so that any soul who had not endured the heavy mists of Tenebir could never find the strength to cross those waters. Umma Ledasir, being mindful of this ancient secret, had sent his tidings unto the Wise Belabirdor and the noble Lord Iranarious; and they, without a shadow of doubt, made their hosts ready and hastened to bring their aid for the deliverance of the realm unto the King and his army. Ledasir did then reveal unto Silintolos that it was a thing most needful to place one warrior of Mare Rumbrum, at the least, between every horseman of Hereyus.

Silintolos did summon Elemrun unto his side, and the hosts began to mingle and join as one; for it was hoped that the crossing of Deboran might be made with a lighter spirit. Now all preparations were brought to their fulness, and the eye beheld but a single multitude, which was the very host of Helakirtor. Umma Ledasir, entering upon the labours for the passage of the lake, did call the other elders of Perasimonor to his side, seeking their succour in the work ahead. First, it was ordained that dark green mists should rise from the River Tenebir, the stream that nourisheth the waters of Deboran; for these are the vapours that do turn the minds of men unto madness, if they should draw them into their breath. To rouse this shadow, an ancient and dark art of sorcery must be performed; for only by such a craft would Tenebir yield those poisonous clouds from its depths. Yet as these mists began to mount toward the heavens, a mage of fire must ignite the breath of the river, guiding the flames across the lake; lest the vapours should shroud the spirits of the warriors and all who stood there, casting them into the darkness of perdition and error.

To stay these woes, the burning of Yosmalen sprouts might have served; yet in all the realm, no store of such blossoms did exist to meet so vast a need. While the women of Perasimonor, led by the wisdom of Ledasir, did seek a path of deliverance, the Witch of Tellawick did emerge from the heart of the dark forests, accompanied by her twain attendants. When Ledasir beheld that ill-omened soul of Tellawick, she perceived with a heavy heart that even she had come to offer her succour in this dire hour. Tellawick, keeping a measure of reverence, spake of how she was mindful of their plight, and revealed that they had brought an ancient and dark sorcery to its fulness within the deep shadows of the woods. For a moment, Ledasir was poised to ask of their dark labours; yet before the word was uttered, Tellawick spake thus: “It is a thing better hidden from thy knowledge, Ledasir; yea, and Silintolos must remain in ignorance, for he would never grant his sanction to such a deed.” Ledasir bowed her head in a bitter assent, her countenance marked by a sour distaste for the path they must tread. To rouse the mists from Tenebir, the power of the spell must reach unto the depths of Vadion Hollow, and from that hollowed place, it must seize the very currents of the river. This work would require a space of time, though not a long stay; and in the hour when the newly quickened waters brought those green mists even unto the shores of Lake Deboran, a mage of fire must set those vapours into a flame.

This was a thing like unto the rekindling of a taper newly spent, where the flame is drawn once more from the rising smoke to wake the light. Tellawick had spoken unto Ledasir of how the women of the Realm of Galadonna would send a mistress of fire to their aid; yet it remained a shadow in her heart whether this maiden might arrive before the hour was passed. Thus, while Ledasir bided her time in a troubled watch, she went unto the side of Silintolos to reveal the manner of their passage; yet of that ancient and dark sorcery, she uttered not a single word. She spake of how the host must plunge into the gateway of fire that would spring forth in the moment the mists reached the lake and were set into a flame; and she bid them be of a most swift spirit in their passage. For the span of time that this portal might remain unclosed was bound unto the strength and the endurance of the mage who held the fire.

While the King did reveal the weight of their plight unto Elemrun, Belabirdor, and Iranarious, who stood by his side, Tellawick in that same hour called forth unto Ledasir; she spake that the maiden approaching from the South was Rumena of Galadonna. Brown was the hair of Rumena, and her countenance was of a sharp and slender mould, and her stature was tall. Ledasir spake thus: “Alas, thou poor and weary maid; for the entire burden of Helakirtor now resteth upon thy tender shoulders.” When she had greeted Ledasir and Tellawick, she hearkened unto the mysteries of their design, of which she had heard but a faint and fleeting shadow before. “Never in all my days have I essayed a work of such gravity; art thou mindful of this truth?” she spake, turning her gaze unto Ledasir. Umma Ledasir, with a spirit most calm and unruffled, made answer: “Be not troubled in thy soul, Rumena; for this hour is a thing new and strange unto us all. There is no soul in all the realm who has not heard tidings of thy skill; wherefore thou shalt surely possess the power to perform this deed.” Then she bowed her head in token of assent, and turning toward Silintolos, she cried aloud: “May my very lifeblood be an offering for the realm!” and when she had knelt in reverence to give her salute, she withdrew into the shadows to bide the coming hour.

Time did seem to falter and grow slow, as the waters of Tenebir began to seethe and bubble from the very depths. Meanwhile, as Silintolos took his station at the head of the host, Elemrun brought all the warriors into a posture of readiness. Before the rising of the mists, Silintolos turned toward his army to deliver his final speech: