Part Ninety

Oromë rolled his barrel alongside the Grey as they moved away from the Orc camp and through the settlement, toward the road. As a Wizard, The Grey had the ability to see Oromë for what he was. His eyes would see the disguise, but he would know with other senses that this was a god. If The Grey had skill and power enough, he would know precisely who walked beside him.

Oromë also knew The Grey. "Seems strange, one devoted to a goddess of groves and orchards taking on a role in politics."

"Someone had to," The Grey said. He saw that the door of the guest house was opening and the five staying there all came out, dressed for the feast. "You have never had a Wizard among your followers, have you?"

"It is not certain that I will…have a Wizard," Oromë said pleasantly.

"I see. We best move over this way."

Dale was wearing his new coat. He was not quite sure that he liked it, being it would make it impossible to hide that he had a sword on his back, had a total of three pockets only, and would not make a decent blanket or pillow when traveling. However, being long, black, and made of leather it would look really impressive when he danced about with his sword. Dale liked the smell of the coat, but even being an Elf who could appreciate leather; it was a bit severe for his taste. He thought he might like to add some trim about the cuffs and collar in some contrasting fabric.

"I will ask Tigh about the stick," Dale said. "Have they seen us?"

Dale did not turn to look, but the others looked to the Orc camp for him. "Yes," Duma said, "It seems Alqua and Gwende were among them. They are coming this way now."

Setsugekka did not look toward the camp, but the figures walking away from the guest house toward the north.

Tilion bounded ahead to put the barrel between himself and the Priestess.

"The girl," The Grey said, "I am told her powers are somewhat diminished due to spells cast at the Hitching Post under The Sea's spell of Compulsion."

Tilion did not speak, though he could have even disguised as a dog. His Priestess would know him in her sleep. She could likely recognize Tsuki as well. She had known him as Tilion's son when he was half mortal.

"There is a god walking with the Wizard," Setsugekka said. She spoke Elven when she was with Dale and Duma and was attempting to learn to speak Common Elven as understood in the west, but Dale had rather poor accent and grammar himself, when he did not have other Elves nearby to shame or correct him. The others usually understood only half of what she said, Duma perhaps a little more.

Duma scanned the horizon until he saw the grey figure moving away from them. "Setsugekka is speaking about that one with the Wizard, I think. A Man. It looks like he is pushing a barrel along."

"Maybe it is a delivery for the feast."

"I was starting to like him as The Brown, but now I really care no longer what he is up to," Dale said. "Let me get this stick and attempt to talk to the Orcs while the medicine is working."

"Is it smart?" Ugarit asked. "His eyes show it when he has taken the medicine. The Orcs will see it."

"If Dale stands with his back to the light or in shadow it will not matter."

Ugarit made a small noncommittal grunt. Orcs did have excellent night vision, but in Duma's experience, it did not include picking out color or detail on still figures.

Dale called up to the platform to ask if Tigh was there. Soon Tigh came to the railing. He saw Dale and his companions below, and behind them Alqua and Gwende returning. "It is good to see you, Dale. Do you have need?"

"May I enter your house?" Dale asked.

"You are always welcome in my home. We are both of the Vale."

Dale went to the ladder and took in a breath and climbed. It strained his body, but he kept at it. He arrived upon the platform above somewhat winded.

"Are you well?" Tigh asked quietly.

Dale beckoned Tigh closer and whispered to him. "Did they not tell you?"

"The females of my house? I knew that some survivors of your party were there under their care, but they did not speak of the details. If I needed to know, Gwende would have told me."

"I've been struck by a most heinous Wizard curse. I need something to lean on. I should not be walking yet, but it is important now that I appear strong to certain parties."

"Ah, like a walking stick or something?"

Dale nodded.

"I know!" Tigh went to another part of the house across the platform and then returned with a sturdy stick. "I walked with this so that I could use it to spring traps when we were working to restore the Wood of damage and debris left by former inhabitants."

"Yes, this is perfect," Dale said, and took the stick into his left hand to lean upon it. "Do you ever miss it?" Dale saw Tigh did not understand, but then the timing of the question would not have made sense to him. "The place we used to live."

"I never saw the massacre or the valley afterward, and so in my memory it is just as we left it. I miss it sometimes, but I must remind myself that I have it on good authority that what I remember no longer exists. I've found something of a home here."

"There are parts…times that I still can't remember," Dale said softly. "I know I was found there. I know that after the massacre that valley was overrun with Orcs for years. There were breeding pits there. When the Elves came they found me alone."

"I feel for you, that you suffered, but why to you speak of this to me now?"

"Do you know that Orcs kill their pit-mates sometimes? They wake from the earth and they will kill whatever seems a threat or food. Duma said he wants to go there. He was spawned there. I wonder if he did have pit-mates. I think one of them would have claimed to be Dumuzi's true heir by now if they could. Do you suppose Duma killed the others when he was newly born?"

"Neither of us can know. I see that you are troubled. Perhaps you would like to sit and have a cup of water."

"No. I am sorry. Perhaps this is the Wizard's medicine. My thoughts run like dreams. I must go. Talk to the Orcs."

Tigh watched Dale climb down the ladder carrying his stick under an arm. Duma and Dale's other companions were below. Tigh had not met the girl before. They were all standing with Alqua and Gwende, but for the little one that Ugarit carried on her back. They spoke of the Orcs and the delivery man. Tigh had thought Dale's leather robe a strange garment, but Ugarit's attire was strange also, unlike the leather and furs Orcs crafted into their leg covering, loincloths, vests, and short cloaks.

Not all the Orcs would go to the feast, only those who were Chieftains and some few other Orcs, mainly Leaders, which the Chieftains had selected. These left the camp for the pavilion and came past the small guest house and the Treeweavers home beside it.

Marduk looked over the group carefully. He had some trouble seeing how near or far things were, since his injury, but did his best not to make it obvious. He could still see clearly otherwise and with some practice alone he would relearn his aim and be able to shoot with accuracy, even if he wasted an arrow or two to learn the distance. He assumed Gorghash had been slain, because he had not returned and he did not believe one of his Orcs would have stayed in the house. The Witch and Halfling had been gone already when eight left to confront the Wizard. The Southman was of no consequence to Marduk. That left six to account for, and Marduk had learned that Green-cloak was elsewhere in the Silver Wood.

Here were five, not including Tashmetum, only the girl was not one known to Marduk. One was missing. "Did you make another trade?" Marduk asked.

Dale understood exactly what he meant. Without Tsuki, a Wizard for a pet in the Orc's eyes, his status would drop. "Tsuki is gone. He fought the Wizard and then he pursued the Dragon that carried the bomb to the mines and he made the bomb explode at a safe distance, so that many Orcs would be spared. He has not returned, but neither has a body been found. The other Wizard, The Grey, witnessed the explosion and knows that Tsuki is the one that saved us destruction and poison."

"Where is Gorghash?" Nergal demanded. Dale did not know this Orc, but Duma had seen him before and Ugarit knew he had been spawned with Gorghash.

"They would have been brothers if Elves," Ugarit said.

"Killed by a Dragon," Dale answered, "We fought many."

"How many?" Dog asked. "Seems a boast. No dragons seen in many years and they fought many."

"They saw the one fly overhead on it's way to the Mines," Ugarit whispered.

"You know there was one at least. If the Sea was able to summon one, why could he not summon more? They were Dragons of the east, but still as dangerous, if not as large as ones that were I the west. There were eight altogether."

Marduk only had one eye now, but he could see Ugarit whispering at Dale's ear. He could see the way Dale's pale, thin Elf fingers clutched the stick and how he leaned weight into it. He almost asked how badly Dale was injured, but if he asked it, the other Chieftains would know for certain. Perhaps they had noticed, but perhaps they had not.

"Who is the girl?" Jareth asked. "We have not seen her before."

Dale laughed. Marduk did not think it a good sign for Orcs. "Did you think I would send the Witch away and lose Tsuki without having some other to cast spells for me? She is the Miko no Tsuki of the People of the Sun far to the east, and she can cast spells and call on gods. She is my follower until Tsuki returns."

"If the bomb could kill many Orcs, it would kill a Man," Dog said.

"Does she do healing spells?" Marduk asked.

Dale snarled and then set his face straight and forced a laugh. "Of course. If I have need. Setsugekka is quite skilled in healing."

"You had better guard her against the Elves. They are abducting wound-patchers to save burned Elves." The other Orcs laughed at Marduk's joke.

Dale hoped that did not mean the Elves were desperate enough to consult Orcs on Beryl's behalf.

"Green-cloak even has Men delivering barrels to him here. And he is not in the house with you. Dragons breathe fire. Maybe Beryl is among the burned Elves. He sends birds to command Men to bring him magic water to drink."

Dog laughed loudly. "Magic water."

"Maybe Laurel and Tsuki and Beryl are gone, but if you have not noticed, I not only have Setsugekka and Duma with me. I now have Ugarit!"

"Oh, is that Ugarit?" Sarpanit asked, "We did not know her all got up as an Elf. Now I see…maybe this yellow hair went into the little house every day just to play with her. Ugarit is clearly one with a thing for Elves."

Marduk spoke to say that Sarpanit should not insult the Swan who was an Elf-Lady and their strong ally, but his words were drown out as Ugarit drew her knives and lunged toward Sarpanit shouting. It took Gwende and Alqua both to hold her back, and Ugarit still came within a step of Marduk and Sarpanit both. "How did you earn your chestpiece? Was not tending your Chieftain! If the Elves knew what you did they would demand your head from Marduk! You are female! You should know why we are precious! The race does not matter. What can be done to one of their females can be done to us and it should not be allowed! Did you accuse your Chieftain when Alqua stood at his side for many days? I am Duma's Orc! If you were not carrying a child…!"

Duma took the flail from his belt and extended his arm to put it between Ugarit and Sarpanit. Sarpanit growled, but seeing the flail, Ugarit did not respond to Sarpanit again and shut her mouth. She relaxed almost immediately, stepped back and sheathed her knives. Duma lifted his eyes to Marduk's face. "Ugarit is mine. You know what that means, Marduk-Chieftain. The tasks are done. The Wizard is dead and the weapon is destroyed. If Sarpanit is precious to you, keep her close. Next time she offends me, or Ugarit, or one that we call ally, whether she ends up dead or alive, I will make certain Orcs are adding 'Fool' every time they name her." Duma addressed the other Chieftains then, "I do not wish to make myself a slave to our enemies by killing other Orcs when we can be strong, but if any one of you threatens one I have called companion or ally at such a time they are unable to defend themselves, I will defend them and call it a service to all Orcs. I will begin culling the herd, and you who lived with Wizards and Dark Lord over you know what that means. The weak and stupid will not be allowed to breed. You really anger me, and I'll do it so you go on living unable to breed. I was a pet longer than some of you have been alive. I know every kind of play and torture."

Dale uncoiled his own whip, held it in his right hand and snapped it over Duma's head.

Duma lowered his arm and turned quickly. He took Ugarit's arm as he passed her to pull her with him. Dale followed, without another glance to the Orcs, and with Fei and Setsugekka at his back.

The Grey led Oromë to the easternmost part of the settlement. Here several Elf houses had been burned. The easternmost that remained whole were that of Carpenter and Greenriver. And with the Carvers gone from Carpenter's hearth-share, some of those Elves surviving and yet displaced had been taken able to find space there. The rest had been fit elsewhere, but with the Elves arriving from the Golden Wood, which had been evacuated as a precaution, all the hearth-shares were now filled to slightly beyond their designed capacity.

If those from the Golden Wood had been able to come sooner, the battle might have gone differently. As it was, they were happy to help tend the injured or prepare food or rebuild homes. The Elves of the various Woods along the Great River were friendly with each other and Sylvan or not, often related.

Beryl was not the only Elf who had suffered burns and he and the others were now being tended in one of the partially burned houses under care of Healers and Elven Clerics. It was not the way of Elves to believe that one needed an intercessor to speak to gods, but they did sometimes seek another Elf to guide them in teachings or worship of the gods, and these guides were called Clerics when translated into the Common Speech. Beryl had been a Cleric, as Beryl had been many things through the ages, in actuality or when acting, but he no longer claimed the title.

It was believed by the Elves that these ones who were burned would not wish to be seen until healed. Unlike Orcs, who were the darkest most twisted version of Elf kind, even if Elves were loath to admit it, Elves did not have appreciation for scars and injuries that maimed or disfigured the body without killing were most often viewed as horrors.

Beryl did not wish to be seen. He was the worst case of burn injury the Healers had seen in any who had lived to seek healing. There had been burns severe enough to blister over most of his body and in a few areas charring. The Demon had literally made an oven of his armor with its stream of attacks, and removing what parts he would in attempt to release the heat had only allowed the Demon to inflict the more serious burns.

The Healers had many skills, but they were not certain they could restore the skin that had charred. In desperation they had sent for an Orc. He had suggested skin grafting. Elves knew of grafting tree limbs but preferred not to use such means unless an area struggled to grow naturally. Wizards like the Grey were those who experimented with hybrids and grafting. The idea of performing such procedures on Elf flesh was abominable.

The Healers had nearly sent the wound-patcher away, but Beryl had asked that the Orc stay so long as the other Orc let him. He thought the Orc might have other ideas that were somewhat less repugnant, and he also wished to keep the Orc from speaking to his Chieftain as long as possible.

The Grey had seen Beryl earlier and offered some medicines that he knew. Some had been accepted, but not that which Dale had been given. They had spoken for a while of herb lore in general.

Oromë was nearly to the house the Grey had told him of. They were passing the hearth-shares of Carpenter and Greenriver. Three Elves came toward them, not from the burned houses, but from the Wood beyond.

Greenleaf had taken Loriol and Lain as companions to practice archery. They were returning now to bathe and dress for the feast, a little later than they should have. Greenleaf saw the Wizard accompanied by the Man pushing the barrel and the dog. It did not seem a dog that would be companion to such a plain looking Man, but though Greenleaf knew much more of Men than many Elves, he did not consider himself an expert on their race and animal taming customs.

"Hullo Master Wizard," Greenleaf called, "who is walking with you there?"

"This is Master Béma," The Grey said, trying to quickly think of a name. "Lord Beryl has requested he make a delivery to him."

"Béma? Is that not what the Horse Lords call their Great Horseman, who is the self same god as our Lord of Forests, Oromë? He is also called Araw by my fathers kin. Surely they are the same, for I doubt highly the Second Race knows gods who are unknown to Elves and there are only so many."

"Why, I suspect you are correct, perhaps he has proud or hopeful parents. That is not really our concern." The Grey grit his teeth. He should have remembered that this young Elf-Lord had spent time among Men and the Horse Lords in particular. Men were so often calling names of gods in vain, a visitor would be certain to learn them.

"Is that not blasphemous among Men?" Lain whispered. "To give a god's name to a child…that's even worse than naming your child Sun or Moon…and it seems arrogant to do that."

"And 'Leaf' is acceptable?" Oromë asked. Very many Elves had 'leaf' in their name.

"Well," Lain began hesitantly, not wishing to offend Greenleaf, who had one such name, "a leaf is not so grand as the Sun or Moon and not an immodest sort of name…"

"Ah, but to a tree, is not the leaf just as important to life as the Sun?" Oromë asked.

"Your rabbit is not dead," Loriol said suddenly and in a rather flat tone.

Oromë laughed loudly and Tilion whimpered and put a paw to his face. "I suppose if you can shoot a bird's eye in the dark you can hear a rabbit's heartbeat or see the movement of its chest. True, the rabbit is not dead."

"Sir, if you mean it for your dinner, it would be kind to slit its throat to shorten its suffering. The meat does not spoil in the few hours between a hunt and suppertime. We might tie the carcass in a cool shaded place for you or smoke it if you wish to have food for a journey."

Oromë lifted Tsuki by the rope tied to his legs and brought his small body into his arms. Tsuki was trembling badly, unused to being a rabbit, afraid he had angered a higher being and that they would be found out. Oromë covered Tsuki's eyes and bowed his head to whisper to him. "It is all right. No harm will come to you." He gently flattened back Tsuki's ears and petted his fur.

Tilion yapped jealously.

"The rabbit has not suffered, Elves. I generally hunt larger game. I will free this one when we are outside this Wood. I would not care for some Elf to mercifully slit his throat as soon as they found him."

"We would only do so if we had need of food!" Loriol insisted.

"I think the Man is…" Greenleaf whispered. "You know, as our butler was during that embarrassing incident." Drunk. Loriol gave a nod. Greenleaf looked to Oromë again. "Let us have a look in your barrel."

"I will gladly allow your inspection young Elf-Lord," Oromë chuckled.

Tsuki rolled his little eyes. He wondered if he and Dale had really come across as such bunglers as these two gods while taking the message canister to Lord Duinhir on their training mission.

"I will just be having a look at the barrel," Greenleaf said cautiously.

"There are no Dwarves hiding within, are there?" Loriol asked.

Greenleaf sighed. "That was many years ago." They rolled the barrel toward the damaged house so it would not have to be moved far after opening. If the man had allowed the barrel to be inspected at the riverport the Elves there would have provided a cart, and this was suspicious. But, there seemed no reason to
distrust The Grey. Strange the Man had called him young. Generally all Elves seemed ageless to Men and were assumed to be ancient.

"Even now your father might put Dwarves in the dungeon."

Greenleaf thought about that as Loriol helped him to stand the barrel upright and remove the seal. He shook his head slightly. "No, even Father is on fair terms with Dwarves these days. They have fought two wars beside him and not against. He would only threaten it."

The barrel lid was removed and the Elves found only water within with a slight odor of old wood that could possibly have come from the barrel and a presence of sediment visible suspended in the water, recently stirred by the moving of the barrel.

"Only water," Loriol said.

"Unfiltered."

"It is what the Green Elf requested."

"We shall take it to him."

"Lord Greenleaf, do you not have other tasks to attend to? The feast?" The Grey saw this was understood to be true. "I will escort this delivery Man and be certain that Beryl has what he needs."

"We shall see you at the feast."

"Of course."

"Look at the color of the sky! We shall be late!" Lain said.

"Run then!" Loriol called, already moving.

Greenleaf ran and overtook Loriol. "Come on! I have seen a Dwarf sprint faster!"

"He has seen a Dwarf do everything," Lain complained and ran as fast as he could

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