Anchorite and the The Heart of Effie. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE. MOUNTINOUR AND ELF

The wasteland under the rays of the sun hovering at its zenith cast an unhealthy orange tint, and there was something ominous in this landscape. Through numerous pits and potholes, directly to the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest, in the light shade of the trees of which the silhouette of a very tall man, frozen in anticipation, was now hiding, a not so stately, stocky man in a leather tunic, high worn boots with worn-out soles and a large sword in his belt was heading with confident steps. In his sharp features of a swarthy, weather-beaten face, covered with deep wrinkles, tension was read. The gray hair had already touched his temples: he was an adult, a man who had lived for at least four decades. But anyone who knew this man better would not dare to call him old. Oreon Lance belonged to a clan of mountain people, the so-called mountinours, real warriors, brave and glorious. The Mountinours lived in the north of Abbaddon, their lands was located in the mountains of Zirunderelle, in a gorge that had served these people as a reliable shelter and home for many centuries. Oreon was sent to such a distance, to the south, on a diplomatic mission. Ten days later, Oreon had to negotiate with the head of the elven people, with whom, to put it mildly, the relations of the mountain people were very strained. The enmity between the elves and the mountinours for several years proceeded in the mode of quiet hatred for each other, but did not pass still into an aggressive phase. Therefore, until now there was still a slight ray of hope for a truce and cooperation. Of course, the elves were notified in advance about the arrival of the guest.
Oreon arrived at the Enchanted Forest alone, leaving his companions behind. About an hour's walk from here, two mountinours set up camp, where they were waiting for their sworn brother, who decided to meet the king of the elves one on one. Taurebeleg of the ancient clan Aglar has been the king and irreplaceable leader of the elves for several decades, the protector of the people of the Enchanted Forest. He was famous for his tough character and intransigence, he never questioned his decisions and was adamant when the advisers tried to convince him, and oddly enough, such tactics saved the forest inhabitants from all sorts of conflicts in recent years, because after the terrible war that devastated most of the lands of Abbaddon, not only the forest , but all the inhabitants of the country were very tired and wanted only to live peacefully and raise children in harmony. And with the exception of some unpleasant moments, Taurebeleg managed to give his people what he desired with all his heart.
The leader of the elves was very tall and stately: about two and a half meters tall, with sky-colored eyes, chiseled cheekbones, snow-white skin and golden hair falling like silk on broad powerful shoulders. His silver-colored camisole gave off a cold sheen in the unbearable heat, as if signifying the boundary between the scorched wasteland and the reverent coolness of the forest.
Finally, the moment came when Oreon reached the edge of the forest, stopping at a respectable distance from Taurebeleg. There was a tense silence: Oreon was obviously trying to find the right words to start a conversation, and Taurebeleg simply waited for this beginning with cold and serene patience, glaring at the guest from top to bottom. Oreon took a couple more steps towards the elf and, sighing heavily, said:
'Hello, Taurebeleg of the Aglar clan. I appreciate that you did not refuse the conversation.'
There was no reaction from the leader of the forest. Only cold indifference shone in Taurebeleg's eyes. Then Oreon continued.
'You and I both know that too much courtesy is not only inappropriate now, but can be quite annoying. Our peoples are tacitly at enmity, although many of the simple creatures, most likely, do not even know the exact reason for this enmity, but I assure you, if it were not for extremely difficult circumstances, our people would not dare to turn to your people.'
'You dare to distract me just to inform me of your requests?' Taurebeleg's eyebrow twitched arrogantly. 'Reckless and stupid, if that’s the case. Fine. And what, let me ask you, do you need from the forest dwellers?'
Oreon slowly, after a pause, looked up at his interlocutor: in the eyes of this exhausted man, prayer and fear were clearly read.
'Alas, Taurebeleg, the time has come when not only we need you, but you also need us. Like all the peoples of Abbaddon, who have not yet fully realized that unity is our only chance for salvation.'
'And what salvation are you talking about?' with the same as before, cold indifference responded the elf. Truly, Taurebeleg looked like a massive statue, hanging over a stooped, squat man. Obviously, the conversation was not to the liking of both interlocutors.
'Do you see what our lands are turning into? Already turned! Look. When I was a child, in the place of this wasteland there were cities, villages. We have been at odds with each other for too long when we should have united against the true source of evil. Taurentius creates an enchanted army, you know that very well. Perhaps he has already created it and is now on his way to the borders of your forest. It will be something more serious than a herd of stupid ogres. And you are also aware that he has every chance of succeeding. Do you know what his success holds for us? Your forests will fall, the Endless Wall will fall, the last bits of peace and harmony will turn to dust. And we either become slaves of Taurentius or perish. Without you, neither the inhabitants of the Wall, nor the inhabitants of the mountains will be able to cope. Just like you alone will not stand against the army of enchanted army...'
'We won't stand against?' Taurebeleg asked with a grin. 'We’ve been through worse. And monsters were seen more terrible than ogres stuffed with fairy magic. If you are worried about my people, then leave this naive idea. Because my people are not going to worry about you in return.'
'But the innocent ones will die!' Oreon choked out. 'Stubborn donkey!' he was spinning in his head, but his speech sounded something else. 'It's not about interpersonal conflicts anymore. This is about the welfare of Abbaddon ... or rather, what is left of it...'
'Is it our fault that due to the policy of the incompetent coward, Aivazor Simpson, the territory behind the Wall turned into a abyss for a bunch of apathetic half-witted people who can do nothing but hide, and because of their cowardice, who once did not come to the aid of our people when Taurentius' henchmen began to exterminate the fairies? Is it our fault that, through the fault of one of your mountain blockheads, our people have lost an important link in the chain of an ancient dynasty? Do you even understand a little what this loss meant to the people of the Enchanted Forest? No, you don't understand it. Not able to understand with your meager mind! Because all you know how to do is tremble in fear for your miserable, worthless lives. So why? Name at least one reason why I should indulge your pathetic selfish ambitions and even more so give you support and help?'
Oreon clenched his teeth again. He experienced almost physical pain from this dialogue. A lump rolled up in his throat.
'I loved Adrian the same way you loved Oriel. I'm just as hurt by the loss of the person I love. And you know it, Taurebeleg. Even if you don't want to admit it to yourself. Even if my brother was responsible for her deaths, he paid for his mistake with his life. But he loved your sister. We all know how much she loved him. Oriel followed Adrian herself, willingly. And it was not love that killed them, but the ban that was hung on this love with a terribly unfair burden. You lost your sister, but it's not my fault, nor all the people and enchanted creatures that just want to live in peace. War is coming. We won't stand alone. Did you want to hear the reason? All of us, the inhabitants of Abbaddon. We are one big reason.'
Oreon would like to say a lot. The words rushed out like an internal tornado, a powerful uncontrollable stream, but then he stopped, realizing that he was on the verge of a diplomatic conversation and plea, and the latter would definetely result in a fiasco. The forest leader stared at the guest for a while, remaining silent, and then raised his palms in the air in front of him and clapped his hands loudly. The elf's lips stretched into a feigned delighted smile. Oreon froze in bewilderment, not knowing how to react to what was happening.
'It was very touching, quite,' said Taurebeleg loudly. 'Especially the part about forbidden love. The heart has stopped. Is that the argument that’s supposed to get me to accommodate? Is that really your bargaining chip? And with these pitiful speeches, the mountinours sent you to negotiate a partnership? You know, I will let you go in peace for only two reasons: firstly, in the name of our former friendship, and secondly, so that you tell your blood brothers, or whatever you call each other, that the forest inhabitants will not come to your aid and will not sacrifice themselves to protect those who remember unity only in moments of despair. And if you are lucky enough to survive the coming war, this will be a valuable lesson for you.'
'Taurebeleg…' Oreon whispered, looking down. Then he looked into the elf's eyes again, adding in a barely audible voice. 'I beg you...'
'Are you begging? A great warrior, Oreon Lance of the great mountain people clan, ready to kneel before the king of the Enchanted Forest?'
Taurebeleg for the first time since the beginning of the conversation took the first step towards the guest, approaching him so close that Oreon even recoiled back in surprise. He had reason to be afraid of him.
'Good,' Taurebeleg said simply, wiping the arrogance from both his face and tone of voice.
Orion looked at his interlocutor with a puzzled look. The fact that the elf king turned his anger to mercy was the least that could be expected. In his soul, it seemed as if it became easier, an invisible burden was dropped. However, Taurebeleg could not agree so easily, and Oreon was sure there was some condition behind it. And he wasn't wrong.
'So let it be,' nodded the elf, leaning slightly over Oreon, hanging over him like a rock. 'I will do as you ask, and in the hour of battle, my people will come to the aid of your people and the people of the Wall, even though you do not deserve it. Only if you return Oriel to us. Safe and sound. This is the condition. This is the price for the help of the Enchanted Forest.'
Taken aback by this statement, Oreon immediately blurted out:
'How do we return the one who went to the World of Shadows? You are asking for the impossible. There is no return...'
'But you will return. And you know why. You know...' Taurebeleg snapped and straightened up, once again bringing down his gaze on the guest from above. 'The union of the forest beings with your ones is impossible today. If you want the impossible to happen, repay the same. Impossible for impossible. Then all grievances will be forgotten. Then, although our peoples will not become friends, they will always be able to count on mutual assistance. Did you want to make a deal? Here are my conditions. You can agree and get down to business, or you can refuse and go solve problems by yourself. On this I put an end. I have nothing more to add.'
And without waiting for an answer, Taurebeleg turned on his heels and walked towards the forest, after a few seconds he disappeared behind the mighty trees, leaving Oreon alone. The man was discouraged and for some time stood just like frozen. After that, he also turned around and slowly walked away from the forest, dumbfounded by such a grandiose failure. He twisted and twisted in his head the idea that the last chance to win in the coming battle had just been lost.
Oreon loved his brothers. Of course, these brothers were only sworn, but he grew up side by side with these mountinours, and after so many years, Oreon, Ruhon and Opheus were thick as thieves. Both of them were already waiting for Oreon in a small camp, which was set up near a gorge under three green pine trees, which looked very bright against the backdrop of the dead nature of the wasteland. Three horses rested nearby under a canopy, which their owners had stretched out on four support branches screwed into the ground, and which protected the gallant horses from the midday heat. Oreon walked slowly, straining his brain, trying to make the right decision. Of course, he will discuss things with his friends again upon his return to the camp, but as the negotiator who failed his meeting with Taurebeleg with a bang, Oreon felt no small responsibility for the consequences of the fiasco.
The journey took Oreon no more than half an hour. Although it felt like an eternity. Finally, the traveler saw the camp and noticeably quickened his pace. A plan formed in his head that now seemed the only correct way out.
'Judging by your sour look, Oreon, this eared donkey will not help us?' Opheus shrugged his shoulders with a look as if he did not even doubt such an outcome.
Opheus, like any mountinour, was a tall and strong man, and in this circle of friends he was also the youngest. A month ago, he had turned twenty-four, ten years of which he had wielded a sword and practiced his martial skills regularly. The young man showed great interest in campaigns and various expeditions, gravitated towards adventure and did not like to sit still. There was more than enough energy in this young mountinour, which is quite reasonable for his age. Of course, like any respectable mountain man, Opheus loved his native Zirunderelle gorge, but lately he spent little time there, as he does now, for example.
Opheus, to his chagrin, did not yet have a beard, but he had thick long chestnut-colored hair, which he collected in a ponytail and shapely cheekbones and strong jaw, thick eyebrows and a strong-willed chin, which gave him the lion's share of masculinity despite his young age. Opheus was quite an emotional man, although he struggled with this, as they said, "flaw". For personal reasons, he had a powerful dislike for the king of the enchanted forests, which was not particularly surprising for the mountinours, but unlike the more discreet brothers, Opheus was one of those who did not hide his hostility and often spoke out on this topic. This meeting of Oreon and Taurebeleg Opheus considered obviously meaningless.
Oreon honestly and without embellishment recounted the essence of the conversation with the forest king, with the exception of the last impossible condition. This mocking spitting to mountain people hot mountinours could react very sharply, and unnecessary conflicts were simply not needed now.  Of course, such a retelling did not at all inspire the two friends of Oreon, and they both even somehow had been down. Travel so long and it's all for nothing. Here, anyone would fall into despair.
Oreon sat down on a log next to Ruhon, who handed him a small piece of meat cooked over a fire. Ruhon was about the same age as Oreon. He was distinguished by a relatively calm disposition, prudence, and a sharp mind. Ruhon was also an experienced warrior: he participated in four battles, masterfully wielded both a sword and strong fists. Despite his remarkable strength, Ruhon was not always in a hurry to use it. This man considered the manifestation of violence only an inevitable measure when it is necessary to protect himself and his people. In ordinary disputes, he preferred diplomacy. Therefore, he hoped for the support of the forest people as much as Oreon did, because he understood what war really means and how useful it could be for the magical people to participate in the defense of the enemy.
'So no chance?' Ruhon murmured as he finished eating a piece of meat.
It was snake meat, which was often eaten by travelers on their way through the wasteland. Copperhead snakes were almost the only living creature that lived in this dead area. These creeping reptiles were poisonous, but when properly cooked, the meat was quite edible in taste.
'No,' Oreon snapped shortly. 'It seemed to me that his arrogance had tripled since our last meeting. Taurebeleg is unshakable. He still blames all of our people for the death of his sister. You, brethren, will have to return home and begin to raise an army. Anyone who bears a weapon and is able to fight. It is not known at what point and where the Taurentius will attack, so you need to leave as quickly as possible. I'll go east to the Wall, try to meet Aivazor Simpson. Perhaps he will be more accommodating. The people behind the Infinite Wall, of course, will not be as useful an ally as the forest people would be, but the war will affect them too. And the wall may no longer be their protection for all occasions.'
'Behind the wall, there are not those who are capable of defending at all,' Ruhon said.
'So it is,' Opheus supported his friend. 'Even if the people of the Wall stand on our side, there will definitely not be warriors among them. That's why hey hide behind the wall because they are afraid of any offensive. Is it worth wasting more time for them? Time is now worth its weight in gold, you just said it this way.'
'Oh, my friend,' Oreon chuckled loudly and bitterly. He loved Opheus very much, but believed that the youngster clearly did not have enough experience to assess the situation fully. Oreon ate a piece of snake meat, though he wasn't particularly hungry.
'The time has come when Taurentius becomes more dangerous than ever,' Ruhon asserted, finishing his meal and wiping his beard with his wrist. 'We will not stand alone. It seems like Oreon was humiliated by meeting with Taurebeleg. Rubbish! Actually, the king of the forests humiliated himself by refusing to cooperate. We still have a common enemy. They won't survive without allies, just like we will not...'
'The army of Taurentius is no longer a bunch of ogres. Now these creatures will own unknown magic. We can only guess what kind of onslaught we will have to resist. Ruhon is right: we cannot survive without allies. If only Adrian and Oriel were here. Would be alive...'
Oreon stopped and filled his mouth with his meal. To change the subject and at least lighten the mood a little, Oreon praised the meat of the copperhead, noting that no one could cook the meat of a creeping creature as deliciously as his dear friends could. And it was true.
'So, we're on the road again?' Opheus asked rhetorically. 'Home?'
'Yes, we are returning home,' Ruhon nodded, kicking the smoldering coals of an extinct fire with his foot. 'It's time to stand up for it.'
Oreon, hastily chewing on a piece of meat, stood up off the log.
'We need to hurry,' he muttered again, throwing an uneasy glance at Ruhon and Opheus. 'You know what to do. Then our paths should part for a while ...'
'We will protect the Zirunderelle Gorge, we will not let our house be offended by anyone!' Opheus firmly stated, patting his friend on the shoulder, and then hugging him tightly.
'Yes, I have no doubt, my brother,' smiled Oreon. Of course, he was tired and exhausted at that moment. 'I will return to you as soon as I visit the Wall. It can't be all that hopeless. I'll get help, I promise. I will not fail, brethren, neither you nor all our people of the Mountinours.'
And for a few minutes there was nobody speaks, as if the men suddenly decided to establish a minute of complete silence. Oreon was very homesick: the adventure of three mountinours friends had already lasted six months. They were looking for traces of the death of Adrian and Oriel. They probably still believed in their miraculous salvation. Perhaps they wanted revenge. Perhaps the souls of the proud and just mountinours simply refused to put up with this monstrous event. One way or another, the story of Oriel, the sister of Taurebeleg, and Adrian, the son of the leader of the mountain people, Saurentos Aglar, became a real shock for both sides: mountains and forest.
It all happened just over a year ago, when the battles were still going on and the people of Abbaddon had a glimmer of hope for salvation from the tyranny of Taurentius. By that time, the fairy race had already been almost destroyed. But there were still untaken and undestroyed cities in various regions far from the western lands. And at that moment, when everyone was thinking only about saving their own lives, when fear and despair became everyday feelings, and peace and serenity had sunk into oblivion, it seemed that only two rebel souls didn't care about the war, the confusion and horror that was taking place in Abbaddon that time.
Oriel was the younger sister of Taurebeleg, and almost all her life under her brother-king was an obnoxious, disobedient rebel, who not only was not ashamed and not afraid to express her diametrically opposite point of view to Taurebeleg, but also, as the forest king himself observed, set a bad example to her nephews, royal children. Moreover, it would seem, constant escapes from the control of her brother, outrageous antics have already become something commonplace for all those related to the royal family, and even Taurebeleg himself is tired of fighting the temper of his obnoxious sister, but something happened that no one expected.
The army of Taurentius at that time was marching on a large city in the southeast of Abbaddon. The city of Alvarton was not the largest one of the surrounding lands and was not famous for anything remarkable. However, Alvarton was inhabited by creatures of all shapes and types, it was truly a piece of paradise, a place where there was absolutely no interspecies hatred and where every soul was free in their happiness, even one that seemed extremely unusual. A crushing raid of ogres and wizard’s hunters from the west destroyed Alvarton. Hardly anyone there understood why Taurentius and his army so urgently needed to destroy a harmless city and take the lives of all creatures, nevertheless, cruelty and death came suddenly with a short but fateful battle.
Mountinours stood up in that difficult hour to protect the innocent. On the contrary, Taurebeleg even at that moment decided to stay away and on behalf of the forest nations refused to help. Still, this battle did not bypass him, no matter how hard he tried. The anger of Taurebeleg was enormous when he learned that his sister had escaped from her folt and headed straight for the epicenter of the battle to help defeat the instigators of the battle. Taurebeleg roared and yelled: he sent some of his most skillful warriors to Alvarton and himself became their leader in that dangerous and unexpected campaign. He found his sister in the midst of hostilities, next to the uncouth, in his fair opinion, mountinour, the degenerate of the mountain gorge, Adrian Aglar. Amid the full-scale battle, a real family drama unfolded.
Refusing to go with her brother to her native lands, at that damned moment, Oriel confessed to the king her love for this mountain man. Despite the protest of the lovers, Taurebeleg took his sister by force from the hell of battle, leaving one of the last undefeated cities of Abbaddon for certain destruction and death. From that day on, Oriel turned from a royal person into a real prisoner, and every day more and more hatred grew in her in response to her brother's intolerance. Insolence and glibness did not leave her, as did the pain of separation from freedom and the opportunity to love and give love. That is why, after a couple of unsuccessful attempts to escape, Oriel still managed to break out of the shackles and magical protection that lay on the borders of the Enchanted Forest. Oriel fled away, and now her trail went cold.
Taurebeleg tried in every possible way to find the fugitive again, but now it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Attempts to find Adrian Aglar also did not bring any results: the young mountinour disappeared without a trace at about the same time as Oriel, which made everyone make a simple conclusion: the lovers decided to hide from the whole world, which turned against their union.
Taurebeleg, like Saurentos Aglar, the leader of the mountinours, still did not lose both mutual hatred and hope to find the missing escapees, but a year later the inevitable realization that Oriel and Adrian were dead began to settle in their minds and souls. And so strong was the forest king’s resentment towards men and circumstances that took his beloved sister from him that when Oreon set out on his journey to the Enchanted Forest to ask Taurebeleg for reunion and mutual help, many mountinours simply ridiculed his plan. Oreon himself had certain idea that he was going to fail, and he didn’t know why he was doing something that didn’t make sense. However, hope still flickered in his soul: this mountinour still believed in uniting all the remaining good peoples of Abbaddon against a terrible enemy. And so far, nothing has been strong enough to make this hope vanish forever.