The trees groaned under the weight of their years as the small party picked their way along the bases, dodging hanging vines and occasionally swatting webs and invasive limbs away from their faces. A single path led into and out of Tygar, but where this path was Rowan didn’t remember. It had been at least two hundred years since her business had brought her here, and even two hundred years ago, Tygar had been a much different city. The deterioration that had begun with the attacks by the Royal Bureau had continued until the rotting leaves forming a gentle cushion for the horses’ hooves defined the city.
“Are you sure this is the way, Rowan?” Kai breathed, not daring anything louder in the stifling air. The darkness thickened until their lungs, too, sucked in the lack of light with each inhalation.
Rowan’s eyes narrowed as they worked harder to see in the dimness, but her nod at least silenced further questions. It wasn’t until she finally announced, “There,” however, that a collective sigh of relief showed just how anxious her companions had grown as they floundered along helplessly, unable to see their hands before their faces.
Once upon a time, the road of Tygar had bustled with the carts of vendors coming to or leaving the city of Tree People. Every five days, for two days, the biggest and busiest marketplace in all of Alrianto sprang up beneath the giant crawling roots of aged oaks. Stall after stall of brightly dyed cloths, exotic fruits, new farm equipment and weapons and clothing and household items, and the constant squawks and bawls of a variety of livestock met the market-goers, many of whom had traveled several days to scour the stalls. Haggling grew louder as each transaction attempted to seek precedents over neighboring competitive stalls.
Now, though, Tygar was hardly a city at all. As the three horses carried their cargo underneath the great archway formed by the hardened and twisted vines of several ancient trees, the only evidence that this new area was any different than what they had just traveled through was the increase in light. Even now, though, it remained dim, just light enough to see but just dark enough for Will, Menna, and Kai to feel as though they had to be on their guard at all times.
Rowan reigned her horse in beneath what had once been the main fishery tree, but was now devoid of any sign of its past use. Her eyes scanned the branches far above their heads, looking for any of the tree dwellers that might still be here and willing to help a fellow tree-dweller out. Legolas, after all, had said he was of the Wood-Elves, the tree-dwellers, the Silvans. Therein was a connection Rowan intended to put to good use.
“Do you hear anything?” Will asked Legolas, relying on his superior senses after enough time had passed to convince all nothing was about to leap out at them. His hand had again strayed to the gun at his waist, his finger and thumb instinctively falling on the trigger and hammer.
Legolas, too, scanned the branches, for only in them did he hear any signs of movement. He would have bet his life that no feet beside those of their horses trod the ground itself, and most certainly not the heavy footfalls of those pirates, as Will and Menna had described them. But in the trees– there he heard rustling and whispering, as though a great many people were peering down at them, perhaps trying to decide whether they were friend or foe.
To Rowan, he hissed, “There are hundreds of them watching us.”
“No,” Rowan assured him with a tight shake of her head. “Not hundreds. Perhaps a dozen, but they’ve learned to make themselves appear much bigger. You speak Silvan?”
“It’s Sindarin, yes,” Legolas nodded.
“Then you must speak to them first before they’ll listen to my tongue. Call out to them. Say we are friends seeking a common foe.”
Legolas sent her a dubious look but did as she commanded, calling into the air above his head in Sindarin, “Friends, my comrades and I are in pursuit of a common foe and are in need of assistance.”
At first there was no reply, and Menna started to ask, “What happens if they–“ But then the answer came, distant and faint, but perhaps made to appear so.
“Who are you and what guarantee do you bring, for we have heard such declarations before.”
Legolas gave them a hushed translation, then turned to Rowan for their next move. Despite her insistence that he had more of a link to these tree-dwellers than she, she sure seemed to know more of what she was doing.
Dismounting and motioning for the rest to do likewise, Rowan called back in the common tongue, “I am Rowan, Slave Number 16384. These are my companions –Kai, Slave Number . . . something; William Turner of another world; Menna Somethingorother of the ancient Scholars or something like that; and Legolas Greenleaf of your own peoples, the . . .” She turned to Legolas, motioning with her hand that she didn’t remember the foreign word for the tree-dwellers.
“Silvans,” Legolas called for her.
A sudden body fell behind them, hardly audible as booted feet landed on the rotting leaves. Though the Elf mirrored Legolas in height and build, his hair fell in locks as dark as the bark behind him, and his dress was simpler, muted, in tune with the darkness of the forest.
“Man eneth lín? Mas dorthach? Pedich i lam edhellen silvan?” the Elf asked Legolas, his face devoid of anything save a faint suspicion.
Legolas nodded shortly and responded in the same tongue, “I eneth nín Legolas Thranduilion en' Eryn Lasgalen, Etriena.”
“What did he ask?” Menna whispered, and Legolas responded at the new Elf’s nod, “He asked where I am from, and I answered him that I am of son of Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen.”
“You are a great lord’s grandson, if I am not mistaken,” the Elf added, once again looking at Legolas. “For it was not so long ago that Oropher and Trilphor split their ways, and already Oropher had a son called Thranduil. You,” the Elf continued, turning now to Rowan. “You are familiar to me, though I do not know why.”
“Perhaps Gany has been spreading rumors of me,” Rowan shrugged.
“You are a friend of Gany’s?”
“Friend, acquaintance, debtor, debtee. It’s all the same, really.”
The Elf stopped listening to her mid-sentence and instead glanced up to the trees, this time shouting a call that meant nothing to them. Menna stepped closer to Will, and Kai, in his curiosity, let his hand fall from the hilt of his sword. The shout was long and drawn out, sorrowful as though the pain of the tree people had been rolled and pressed into that one long call. It was repeated back, and the Elf nodded again.
“What business have you that brings you to our abandoned city so close on the heels of evil?”
Will, torn between remaining silent and being helpful, chose now to step forward and explain, “They were here, then. We’re looking for--”
“It is they you seek?” Will, Rowan, and legolas nodded almost simultaneously. The Elf seemed hesitant for a moment, then nodded as though to himself. “Very well. Come with me. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.” He turned and set off at a quick speed on the ground, expecting them to follow.
Menna held up the reigns of the horse she had been holding and asked, “But what about the–“
”Leave them. They will not stray,” the Elf called back, quickly gaining distance on them. She dropped the lead and skirted after her companions.
Clearly aware that only two of these strangers could even entertain hopes of following him through the trees, the Elf instead led them under towering roots and around scraggly infant trees until finally they ducked beneath a root that did not lead out. Rowan forged boldly ahead after him through the narrow hole leading into the earth, but even Legolas hesitated, he who had been raised in underground halls of stone. Rowan could require assistance, though, and he quickly ducked after her, followed by far more hesitant Kai and Menna. Will waited to bring up the lead, casting one final anxious glance around the forest floor behind them, but there was no one to be seen or heard.
Instead of going down, though, as the hole had appeared it must, a short, tight hallway led them to a narrow spiraling staircase. These they climbed and climbed ever upwards, their toes occasionally slipping off the eroded dirt stairs that had not seen much use as of late. Then just as certainty came that they could climb no more, the stairs ended and Rowan’s head first poked out on a round wooden platform. Legolas’ soon followed, and Kai’s, Menna’s, Will’s. But the destination was not yet reached. Rather, they were now on the level of the tree dwellers.
“Is this the visitor’s entrance?” Rowan mused, but the Elf nodded that yes, in a way it was.
“Those not of our kind are unable to leap through the trees as we do,” he explained, though granted more to the others than to Rowan. “So we built these bridges and platforms a level below us. For safety.”
“Of course,” Rowan agreed. What he meant was that their houses and official rooms and whatnot were higher still. It was an intelligent design that she knew had failed, if only in that the population was scattered and decimated now.
“Come,” he ordered again, leading the way across one rickety bridge after another. The vines used in their creation still held strong, only swaying slightly with the weight of its occupants.
“Are we almost–“
”Here,” the Elf interrupted Kai’s question, stopping and motioning to a door-sized hole in a trunk that continued far above their heads. Rowan didn’t think twice before ducking inside; it was a sign of trust if they were going to expect their trust in return. Menna waited until even Will was inside, pausing to peer with terror at the distant forest floor. Hearing voices inside, though, she turned and stepped through, giving their guide Elf an anxious glance as she passed.
Inside was a bigger space than outside looked as though it could accommodate. A round table matched the shape of the room, though the tree-dwellers in the room remained standing against the far wall, staring suspiciously at these newcomers and wondering why their brother had insisted they grant them meeting.
“Brothers, you know that I am the grandson of Trilphor, the boyhood companion of Oropher. This is Legolas, the grandson of Orophor, come with his companions in pursuit of a common foe.”
“And which foe is this, Eaglin, that you would risk our safety?”
Eaglin shook his head, “Our safety has been risked far worse by far lesser than I.” Motioning to the table with his arm, he insisted, “Sit. Everyone, sit. Even in an age such as this, we can maintain the manners of our heritage.” Unable to argue with this, Eaglin’s companions sat, as did the newcomers. Kai shot Rowan a look mixed of amusement and anxiety. This sure felt formal to simply ask if the pirates had been through here –which dropped hints suggested they had.
“Now,” Eaglin began, turning to Legolas, who he obviously regarded as the head of their party. “In what way are your affairs connected to those of the men who–“
”Eaglin, that is a breach of confidence! Do you find it wise to discuss who may or may not have come through our city–“
Rowan interrupted at Legolas’ glance, “We are in pursuit of a party of men who have come to Alrianto only to destroy it.”
“Alrianto is already destroyed,” another tree dweller insisted.
“These men have with them weapons from another world that will give them unfair advantage,” Will added.
The same tree dweller retorted, “Against what? Against us? What concern have we with them? They will not bother us, but rather the Royal Bureau, which is more our common enemy–“
”Yes, but they are in search of the crown, we think,” Rowan interrupted yet again. The Elf sent her an annoyed look, but the rest had suddenly leaned forward, interested in this newest development. “They will find the crown, perhaps, and then an evil king will take control and–“
”And that will be no different than how we live now,” another elf argued. “Why should we help you?”
Dying for her own answers, Menna couldn’t sit on her hands any longer and demanded, “They– did they have with them a man and a boy? I mean, an old man? They . . . they’ve taken my father and my brother,” she explained, desperately searching their faces.
Kindly, Eaglin offered, “Yes, they had those with them that you speak of. That is your interest in finding them?”
“That’s my interest,” Menna nodded.
“Have you all different interests? You will never succeed if you all seek different things.”
“We seek different things, but all with one goal,” Rowan assured him. “Which is to follow these men.”
“And stop them? Or find where the crown is hidden, should they find it, and then steal it for yourself.”
Rowan glared as though offended by their obvious suspicions, and insisted, “I have no desire to be the ruler of Alrianto, nor have any of those in my party. We will stop them unless we discover the rightful king along the way, in which case our goal will change course.” One elf opened his mouth to speak, but Rowan forged ahead, “Now, all we want to know is if the pirates did anything here, and if you know where they are headed, which I’m assuming you do. If you will just tell us this information that comes at no cost to you, we will be on our way.”
Eaglin sat up straighter, perhaps to answer, but another elf quickly interjected, “We cannot help you.”
“What?” Rowan demanded.
“We cannot help you. If that is what you seek, we are of no assistance, for we do not usually interact with those who travel through our city.” He sent Eaglin a patronizing glare, clearing targeting him for his breaking of this rule. “They did nothing while they were here that we saw in our observance, but we retreated to our safety areas as soon as they entered.”
Will and Legolas sighed with frustration, feeling the dead end they had just hit, but Menna felt bold enough to press, “You are certain? But my father and brother were still alive?”
“Yes, that we saw.”
“If you have lied–“
”Are you threatening us in our own home?” an elf quickly interjected, pushing back from the table and rising at Rowan’s words. “This is why we do not invite strangers into our home,” he barked. “Now Bredlor, show our guests out. Eaglin, stay behind.”
The command for Eaglin to remain behind was perhaps the most unfortunate aspect of this elf’s command, for Eaglin had seemed ready to help them. Another elf stepped forward, though, and the travelers had no choice but to rise and follow him out under the critical eye of those still in the room.
So it was back across the bridges and back down the narrow winding staircase for the travelers, this time with a much less friendly guide, though Eaglin had not been overly so. Nonetheless, this Bredlor had a definite coldness to his demeanor, so much that he didn’t offer a single word to them along the way. He simply saw them to their horses and then was gone, quite possibly shooting straight up the side of the tree as the tree dwellers were known to do.
“Well now what?” Kai asked with exasperation, plopping down onto the ground against a tree. “That was a big waste of energy.”
Menna shook her head, “Not entirely. At least I know my father and brother are all right.”
“But not where they are now in order for us to follow,” Rowan sighed. “I won’t say it was a waste of time, but we really are no better off now. If only Eaglin had managed to get a word in . . .”
“Wait.” Legolas held his hand up and narrowed his eyes in concentration, as though trying to pinpoint what it was he was hearing. Rowan, too, listened and heard it, something heavy and wounded limping along.
At Rowan’s description, Will breathed, “You don’t think one of them . . .”
“No,” she insisted. “The tree dwellers wouldn’t have let one live, I don’t think. No, I think it’s . . .” She began walking quickly in the direction of the sound, Legolas hot on her heels.
“Stay here,” Will ordered Kai and Menna, but only Menna obeyed, taking a horse lead in her hand to appear useful. Tygar was all about appearances, after all.
Oddly enough, it was not difficult to locate the source of the sound. And unfortunately, it was also not one of the wounded pirates left behind by his comrades. Rather, a rotund, red-faced man with more hair on his arms than his head was shuffling along, digging through the dirt at the base of one of the great trees.
“What are you doing?” Kai asked first when the man failed to notice any of them standing several yards behind him. The man jumped and glanced over his shoulder, but relaxed to see they didn’t appear to be after him.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he growled, turning back to his work.
Will made a face and replied, “Wallowing in the dirt.”
“Well I’m not. I’m digging.”
“Ah,” Will snorted, sharing a look with Kai.
Rowan, though, stepped around them, and asked, “What are you digging for, old man?”
“I’m not so old. Just a poor man trying to make a living. Things get dropped here, you know.”
“In the marketplace?”
“Yes, in the marketplace,” the man repeated, thinking Rowan the world’s biggest idiot.
“But the market hasn’t taken place for almost two hundred years, and I doubt you were ever alive to see it.”
“It doesn’t matter! There are things here. Don’t you see?” he demanded, pulling up a handful of dirt. Nothing of any value appeared in the dirt, though. Nothing except a few scraps of cloth that amounted to nothing.
Legolas nodded, “Yes, we see. But tell us, poor man, did you see the men that came through here not too long ago?”
“Yes, yes, I saw them.”
“Well did you hear anything they said? Like where they’re going?” Will interjected.
Again, the man nodded, still digging, “Yes, yes, they said so.”
“Well what did they say?”
This question made the man stop his digging and turn to stare again, baffled as he insisted, “You think things like that are free? Nothing is free in this world.”
“You want us to pay you to tell us where they went?” Rowan sighed. When he nodded, Will started to suggest they make the man talk, but for once Rowan desired the easy way out. Reaching into the pocket hidden in the fold of her dress, she pulled out one of the gold tips of Warian’s cane that she had collected through the months.
The man’s nose perked up, as though he could smell the value of such a tiny ornament. His eyes widened as he glanced eagerly between the small tip in Rowan’s hands and her face.
“Will this work?” she asked, holding it in the air. He dove towards her, but though Will and Legolas both stepped forward to put themselves between the two, Rowan merely stepped back. “First tell us where the men went.”
“Leers. They went to Leers.”
“And you’re sure of this? Because it will be quite easy to find you again if you’ve steered us–“
”No, no, I’m sure of it,” the man insisted in a quick rush. “They went to Leers. They’re in search of Nuvain. Now please, just give me– ah!” Rowan tossed the gold tip into the dirt; instantly the man dove toward it and began scrambling through the dirt with his hands as though his very life depended on finding the tip. No one was challenging him for it, though.
Kai waited until they had reached the horses to press, “Leers? Do you know where Leers is, Rowan?”
“Yes. I know exactly where Leers is, so we’ll find them without your help, thanks!” she yelled into the trees. If the tree dwellers made any retort, they did so too quietly to be heard.
Menna perked up at this and insisted, “So we know where they are? How far away is it?”
“About two days southwest of here if we start as soon as sunup in the morning.”
“We will be spending the night here? Is that wise?” Legolas pressed cautiously.
Rowan waved her hand dismissingly, “I don’t think the tree-dwellers are going to give us any problems, and they won’t be able to surprise us, between you and me. Let’s find a nice little nook under a tree to call home for the night, maybe eat something, tell a few bedtime stories.” She took the lead of a horse and followed Kai to a hollow he had noticed earlier that would serve as a suitable shelter. Turning a raised eyebrow to Legolas, she suggested, “For instance, how about Legolas can tell us the story of the time he forgot to mention to us that his father is an elven lord.”
Chapter Ten || Main || Chapter Twelve