The Three Sons of Cwendor, continued

Here is a little more of the story. I honestly thought I would finish it over Spring break; sadly that was not the case. However I am devoting most of my free time to writing this story, as I too want to see it finished, because an author does get satisfaction and happiness from reading her own completed story . . . or, well, I do, anyway!

Note that there are really no 'parts' to this story; it's supposed to be one continuous tale. But as I seem to be posting it in sections, I will call these sections 'parts' for convenience's sake. Linden, I will send the final project to you in it's continuous form.

Also: This part is not quite as long as the last part, but it is important, because it sort of sets up everything which comes after. So it took more work than anticipated to get it right, which I think is why I'm not as far along as I should be. But more of the Tale will be posted as soon as possible, which I think will be soon indeed. I also have decided to post this story on my Facebook account in 'Notes', since the formatting there is easier on the eyes. It's only 'Friend' visible there though, I'm afraid, so I'm continuing the posting here too for those who don't have Facebook or haven't contacted me on Facebook.

Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it!

Cover Art

Part One

That was a merry morning! For though overawed and wondering in the beginning, soon did their hearts lighten as they walked upon the fragrant earth and beneath the glittering roof of the wood called Dor-Aelen. Silent now was that fair forest, for none dwelt in those trees since that long-ago day of slaughter wherein the seven kinsmen of the Queen were slain. Yet though it was now merely an image and a yearning for the marvelous beauty it had once possessed, still was that place fairer than any wood of mortal lands, and the scent of the air was sweet. Like wine and water was the air of Dor-Aelen, and the leaves falling upon little breezes were like jewels of green and gold.

Malbun walking beside Neirenye looked with glad eyes upon his brethren, for Ichail held out his hand to touch the smooth tree-boles as he walked, and breathed deeply of the sweet air, and the eyes of Eldreth faring far ahead had lost some of their bitterness. And Neirenye stirred by the joy in her heart sang a fair song, even that which has been remembered to our own day, which begins

O maidens, why goest thou out out to the field?

Why bear in thy fingers the sword and the shield?

Then suddenly Malbun asked her if she would give to him the long sword which she carried with her, sheathed and slim at her waist. This sword she had borne bound upon the saddle of her steed, but that mortal creature would not enter the Faerie, and therefore had Neirenye taken from it both bridle and saddle, and all her possessions, and spoken to it and bidden it return to the palace of her father. And it had obeyed, for beasts were wiser then.

Malbun said to her “I would not ask, but my heart hath not forgotten that the Faerie has its perils as well as that loveliness which I see now with mine own eyes, and I have no fitting blade with which to guard against it.” That sword which Neirenye carried was even the sword of Ebon her father, which the Queen gave to him on the night he took Cwendor’s crown. Yet Neirenye gave it gladly, and with good heart, and the eldest son of Cwendor  cast aside the poor shepherd’s dagger he bore and hung the great sword in its place.

As soon as this was done, the shadow of foreboding which had for a moment set upon those two lifted, and the weight of care upon Malbun lessened somewhat, so that he spoke blithely to Neirenye as they walked together. Ichail drawn to her laughter soon came to walk beside Ebon’s daughter, and she guiding his hand described as best she could those things which she found most lovely and which he could not see: the sundew glittering upon a soft deep moss, or a slim-veined leaf she caught from the air, or the spicy-scented maze of the patterned bark upon a great tree. Eldreth at times returned from his roamings ahead to walk awhiles with the others of his company, ere the restless curse that was within him drove him on again, and it is to be suspected that he did this so that he might thereby go from one beauty to the other, from the wood to Neirenye Ebon’s daughter. For such is the magic beauty of Faerie, that it does not diminish but rather adds in goodliness to those who enter into it, and Neirenye who had been beautiful in the mortal country was fairer still in the wood of Dor-Aelen. So passed the day. In aftertimes the sweetness of that day in the wood was to be Neirenye’s dearest memory, and the faces of the three sons of Cwendor as they had appeared to her then she would remember to her death, for the curses had faded out of them, and were forgotten for a little while. 

Now presently did those four reach the end of the wood, and that journey had taken nigh all of the daylight hours, yet neither man nor woman was wearied, for who could grow weary in the land where the immortals dwell? The sun was westering in a ruddy sky, and the wide fields of Faery were golden and red in the sunset, and red and gold were the rivers, and gold were the faces of the brethren and the maiden when they stepped from the twilight of the trees to behold the sunset on the fields. And this is how they stood: Eldreth foremost, and Ichail close behind, and upon Ichail’s left the lady Neirenye, and last of all Malbun. Wide-open and wondrous before them was the land of Faery on the edge of night, and they looked in silence. Scarce a spear’s-cast from the wood did they go, however, when there came upon them a sudden cold as though a northern wind had pierced them through. 

There came then tall warriors clad all in silver and white, with black hair unbound, and at their waists shone belts of silver, and each bore a silver sword, sheathed in silver. These were Faery swordsmen indeed, and so softly did they come that not even the ears of Ichail had heard the warning of their coming. Swifter than the eye could realize, the four travelers were ringed round with the flash of silver lances in the sunset, and some seized Cwendor’s sons, two of the Fay folk to each man, and held them there. Yet Neirenye they did not touch. There were perhaps a score all told, though some say more, and some say less.

Neirenye alone stood free, and her the captain of the Faeries approached, and it was a cold eye he turned upon her, though an eye of white flame. But she did not quail. 

And the captain spoke to her, saying: “There is a strange tale here which must be told. Speak then, and do not lie. Who art thou to enter the immortal kingdom without summons, man’s daughter, and what reason for the venture? Doth thine own land please thee so little?”

She replied: “I come as a suppliant and a friend to the Lady Queen of Faery.” And she said: “For I am Neirenye, only child and daughter of that man Ebon, who is known to the Queen, and he is now dead. Why then dost thou hold us?”

Then did the knight bow his head, and he replied: “Verily is that name and that man known to we of the Kindred. Thou art most welcome here, as are those who go under thy favor. Yet hold--” And he looked closely upon the faces of those three who stood beside her, and his face changed, and before any could speak or stir he stretched forth his left hand and touched the brow of the brother who stood nearest to him. And that was Malbun, who stood unafraid, and when the Faerie’s skin touched his own, his eyes burned suddenly silver-hot, with the doom that slept within them awoken. And he did not move.

But the Fairie knight turned fiercely to Neirenye, and he spoke and said: “Who art thou, to bring into the Immortal Realm the kin and bloodline of Cwendor thrice-accursed? For surely these are his sons.”

“They are guiltless,” she replied, “and therefore did I bring them, for I mean to plead for them before thy people, yea, at the feet even of thy Queen, and win for them a pardon and freedom from their wyrds.”

Then was the captain silent for a time. But at last he said: “Thy father, Neirenye, was a great friend to we of Faery, and a good and righteous king. Therefore I shall not turn thee away, nor let past deeds stir new ills. Come then! I myself, and these of my company, shall guide thee to the Queen’s very palace, and there you may make your plea--though I warn thee now, it shall not be heard lightly, nor, mayhaps, with much love. But you must suffice to let these the sons of Cwendor be bound, for no blessing lies upon them, and they are rightly prisoners under guard until the Queen declares her final doom.” And he motioned to his warriors. 

But Malbun said, “Wherefore must we go with thee? For if the lady Neirenye is granted leave to present her plea before the Queen, she is a free woman, and may wend her way as she wills. And where the lady goeth, there do we go. Therefore let us pass.”

The captain replied: “She we guide to protect her, lest wandering of her own will she become ensnared in the deadlier beauties of this land. Faery is not as the mortal lands, and it is perilous for such as thee. To come at last to the palace of the Queen, one must follow the right path; no other way is sure. For oft does this land change according to her will and pleasure, and I cannot say through what perils and wonders thy road shall take thee, yet peril thou shalt find wheresover thou goest, here. And for those of mortal birth the way is hardest. Yet as for thee and thy brethren, blood of Cwendor, thou art not pardoned yet, nor thy sire.”

And as he spoke a shadow fell upon the heart of Neirenye, though she knew not why. And though sorrow after befell, my father told me that in truth the warning was given to Neirenye for love of her father, and not as the snare which later it seemed to be. There is no malice of that kind in Faery.

But Malbun said once more: “Let us pass,” and in his voice was a slow, strange rage. And when there came no reply, he repeated, louder, “Aside, and let us go! He shall die if you do not let us go.”

Neirenye turning saw then the face and hue of Eldreth where he stood held beside his brethren, and even as she looked he fell forward to his knees. And she thought for the first time of his curse. But the Fay lord turned to see with cold eyes, and replied, “That I cannot do ‘til I take thee to the Queen, and she shall pronounce thy doom. Bind them.”

But then spoke a wild, fierce voice, which cried a warning, and there stood Malbun, who had drawn from sheath the mighty blade he held, which Neirenye had given to him in the wood. And that sword was set against of the throat of one of those silver-clad swordsmen, for all had seen Eldreth fall, and in that moment when all eyes were turned Malbun had sprung. Bright and beautiful was that sword in the evening.

“Stand aside,” he said, “ere I slay this man.”

And I have always heard it told that he looked in that moment very alike to Cwendor who was dead. 

The Faery captain made no move nor sign of fear, but said presently, “We have no wish to shed blood in this land. In truth, t’were best for thee to come where I bid, and let thy hands be bound, lest thou craft thy own destruction. Perilous is this land of ours for mortal blood, and one day of joy hast thou had in this wood wherein the Queen’s kinsmen were slain by thy father. This one warning shall I give to thee: that to come at last to the throne of the Queen thou shalt first travel through earth, and water, and wood, and fire. The wood thou hast come through already; yet there are three tasks which remain. And therefore I say to thee, take care! for there are powers in this land of which you know not.”

But Malbun answered not, and in that silence the Faery captain stepped silently back, and his men with him. Whereupon Malbun spoke a word to Ichail, who took Eldreth’s hands in his own, and drew him to his feet, and they walked with halting steps through the press of silver-clad men and beyond. Neirenye followed, but slowly, and she did not look back. For in dismay had she gazed upon Malbun, who stood tall and strong and with a sword held naked in his hand, and this sword set in violence against the Faery people, and this sword of Faery make and gift. And she knew in her heart that this would not be forgotten.

That was the end of their first day in the Fay country.

Small joy did any find in the moonlit beauty of Faery as they went along the white-gleaming path, and they went long without rest, for ever did they fear to be pursued by those whom they had left behind. But of the captain and his men there was no more sign. Therefore at last, in the waning of the night, Neirenye and the brethren halted at last to sleep a little ere they continued on their way, and utterly silent was the night. Eldreth had spoken not at all upon the road, and vanished alone into the darkness, still somewhat pale, though with strength recovered. And the others slept but fitfully, and rose in the dawn-hour to pursue their way eastward, following the path.

And soon upon that journey, as the mountains came nearer and the light grew, Neirenye fell back so that she walked close to Malbun, and sought to speak softly of the deeds which were done at the closing of the day before, but though still those things wore heavily at her heart, she found she knew not now how to speak of them. Vivid in her memory was the face of Eldreth as the curse had crept upon him, but bright and terrible also in her mind was the sword of her father blazing in the sunset. But Malbun replied gravely, saying:

“I have been the keeper and protector of my brethren all my days.” And he said: “Even when we were children in our father’s House. For little love had he for us. I am the eldest, and always have been so, and that changeth not now, here in a strange country.

“And Neirenye, I say to you that I love my brethren dearly, and since the day our mother died they have loved no living thing save only me. Lightly could I have borne the curse upon me, as the heir, if I knew they were safe. As it is, I must do what I can to guard them, and Eldreth most of all. For Ichail chafes not against his blinding, for he can remember naught else, and ever has he been the most joyous of us three. But Eldreth knows our wrong.

“It was I who bound the cloth about my sleeping brother’s eyes, when we were children new-cursed, for the Lady spoke that by the thing which he sees first with his eyes shall he be slain. And so he has lived without fear. Eldreth I cannot aid so simply, for by his own curse he cannot be led by the hand, nor guided, but must walk his own path. So I do only that which I can--that when they sought to bind him, I could force them to let him go. You understand, Neirenye?”

“I do,” she said, but sadly. “Yet I fear the wrath to come shall be swift, and strong, and fear lest if fall hardest upon thee, who set my father’s sword against its makers.”

He said: “I think thou fearest truly. Yet nothing else could I do. And thus, I do not fear the coming.”

She smiled a little, and said: “Never do you fear, Malbun. And it makes me wonder. For that is not a cruel gift, nor seemeth to be a curse at all, if fearlessness is tempered with prudence.”

He said nothing, but his face changed a little, and after a moment he moved his hand to the breast of his jacket. And he pulled forth a poor, tattered pouch, such as might have been sewn with childish fingers from cast-off rags, and held it upon his palm. He opened it, and showed it forth wordlessly to Neirenye.

And there she beheld a small lantern, slender and shapely as a young tree, yet fashioned all of a silver metal which was not silver, for its purity and the radiance of its surface, and for the cunning fashion in which it had been carved and set, light and airy and yet adamant. The beauty of that lantern marked it as Faery make. And within was a candle of whitest wax, which glimmered in the dim light, and reflected back in bleached splendor the shining silver of the lantern’s bars. Malbun smiled at her, but there was something tight and strange in that smile, and he held it out to her.

“Touch it,” he said.

With hesitant curiosity she obeyed, and lo! where she had thought to touch wax, there was only hard coldness, the smooth chill of white marble. Silently he returned the beautiful thing to its pouch within his jacket, and he smiled no more. Something flickered across his face that made her think of Eldreth.

“A lantern of silver, and within a candle of stone,” said Malbun, still with that strangeness in his face. “That is my curse, Neirenye. Is it cause for wonder, then, that I fear naught else?”

“Stone cannot burn,” was her answer, but he replied: “At a word from me, cousin, it would.”

And she was silent, for she guessed at some dark, fearful doom behind those words, and Ichail who was close by surely heard those words spoken, but he said nothing. And then Malbun sighed.

“I said, lady Neirenye, that I do what little I may--merely that when my brother is bound, I can set him free. Yet I fear that even that I shall be unable to do, ere this tale finds its end.” And he looked upon her face with grave eyes, and smiled sadly, and would say no more to her.