Chapter 24. Gwéldølĩn’s Deepest Secrets
Dĩmmĩ had indeed made Nar’Allia and Tnie most welcome. Nar’Allia loved the Grûndén woman immediately from the moment she met her. She fitted exactly the description fashioned by Minervar in her tales, she was like a mother hen fussing around her chicks, nothing was too great a task, no smallest detail was overlooked. So it was that after a period of determined discussion and a light hearted argument, one that Nar’Allia was never going to win, she found herself on the top floor of the house in the suite of rooms that Serinae inhabited whilst she was staying in Gwéldølĩn. Dĩmmĩ had asked after Serinae, firmly stating her disappointment that the T’Iea ranger had not been seen in Gwéldølĩn since she was here last with Minervar and the company as was then. Nar’Allia didn’t have the heart to tell Dĩmmĩ that both Serinae and then Minervar had disappeared and that was the reason she was really here. Instead she just nodded in agreement at Dĩmmĩ’s complaints and changed the subject the first opportunity she got, telling Dĩmmĩ that she was here to aid Tnie in his negotiations with the Grûndén around the hiring of a mining team for Scienocropolis. Dĩmmĩ just said with a wink of her eye that if they had any trouble just to call on her and she would sort the mining guilds out on their behalf. Nar’Allia laughed, Tnie just shrugged and smiled.
It was fast approaching evening; at least Nar’Allia’s T’Iea time clock told her so and at last Nar’Allia had managed to persuade Dĩmmĩ that she was tired from the journey. Though in reality she was not, too much excitement remained in her, but she managed to persuade Dĩmmĩ to allow her to retire to her rooms for a short rest. Dĩmmĩ eventually agreed, probably due to the fact that she still had Tnie for company. So at last here Nar’Allia sat, on the edge of the bed and looked around the room, Serinae’s old bedroom. She was surprised, she didn’t know why, but the room looked quite sparse in comparison to the house in Amentura. But perhaps that comparison was the root of her surprise. Perhaps she thought all T’Iea’Denarin homes would be like Solin’s. Serinae had obviously not deemed it necessary to surround herself with such art and extravagance; perhaps she always knew this to be a temporary lodging all along. Knew that she would eventually leave, perhaps never to return. There were no sumptuous looking gowns in the wardrobes, no silver ware, not a single crystal glass brimming with fine wine. No, here was a comfortable room with the necessary things set out neatly. A row of large wooden hooks by the door, presumably to hang outdoor gear. An old carved table on which sat a stiff curved brush for cleaning mud from clothing, a plain brass tray for wet and muddy boots, the cast iron grating still in place but the sump below was empty of the straw that would normally be there to soak up the mud and water to enable easy disposal.
Nar’Allia toyed with a wooden hair brush on the bedside table, it had been cleaned meticulously and had no hair was to be found trapped within the bristles, the item was very old though, the wood had split with age in a couple of places, many of the bristles had been replaced at some time. A slightly melancholy feeling came over Nar’Allia as she stoked the letters that had been carved by hand into the wood; some white powder had been rubbed into the carving to highlight the letters:
P.T.
She wondered at the two letters, obviously someones initials, but she could not guess as to whom the initials, or the brush belonged to originally, obviously not Serinae as no ‘S’ was carved there. She turned her attention to a glass tray upon the dressing table, it held several dried flower heads, their colour faded but their petal shape and feint aroma immediately recognisable to Nar’Allia. Such flora she knew adorned T’Iea maiden’s hair in times gone by, a tradition or fashion that had fallen from popularity these days amongst the younger members of T’Iea’Tarderi society.
She looked once more around the room. Yes, it was somewhat T’Iea in décor and furnishing, but of course there were also Grûndén influences, for the main structure of the building and these rooms were of course Grûndén in design and construction. But somehow Nar’Allia felt a little disappointed. One of the reasons she had finally agreed to Dĩmmĩ’s suggestion that she stay in these rooms was that she felt she might find something to aid her, perhaps to teach her more about Serinae. But looking around this room at first glance at least, that did not seem to be something that was likely to happen. She also secretly hoped that Serinae may be able to communicate with her as Serinae’s past presence would be strong here, but then she did not have the quiver any longer. Was it a mistake she wondered to give the item to Solvienne? She wanted to give her little sister what she thought may be additional protection.
Nar’Allia sighed; there were very few personal things here. Somehow Nar’Allia expected more, it seemed to her that Serinae spent much time here in the employ of the Grûndén king, she expected in her time living here, Serinae would have amassed many personal effects, yet it seemed she was to be disappointed. She remembered the suite of rooms that Serinae once occupied in Solin’s house in Amentura, how she was disappointed there also, for the rooms had been cleared of everything and were also empty. Nar’Allia frowned as it occurred to her that Serinae’s very existence it seemed was being methodically eradicated from the world.
Eventually Nar’Allia stood, she washed up and searching through the wardrobes she changed into some soft skin leggings and a sleeveless jerkin of some soft cotton like material, deeply embroidered with depictions of flowers from her forest home. She opened another wardrobe door; this wardrobe was empty except for one item. A wooden head much as you might display a hat or wig upon sat on a shelf, but it was what was on the head that caught her attention. A round, close-fitting, metal plate helm sat there, it was highly polished and quite obviously beautifully made, obviously Grûndén in origin, a chain mail curtain at the rear hung down, this would obviously cover the back and sides of the wearers neck. She placed the helm back upon the dummy head and closed the wardrobe door. She then took a deep breath and sighed, left the rooms and went downstairs to meet Tnie and Łĩnwéé for one of Dĩmmĩ’s fine meals.
By the time the meal was finished, it felt to Nar’Allia to be just gone midnight, Tnie had gone to bed some half an hour before and now Nar’Allia had finally made a successful excuse and left a very merry Łĩnwéé downstairs telling tall stories to the house servants and to Dĩmmĩ on occasions when she stopped to listen. But the frown on the Grûndén woman’s face said it all; she had obviously heard all these tales before, probably many times. As Nar’Allia yawned once more and opened the door to Serinae’s suite, her attention was immediately taken by a beam of moonlight shining through a small circular window high on the wall, it was illuminating a patch of wooden panelling on the far wall of the room. This place seemed to glow in the moonlight, where in the sunlight it had not, at least she had not noticed it. Her heart gave a jump; she held her hand flat upon her chest feeling the organ pumping hard against the inside of her ribs. An old memory made her start, this couldn’t be happening again surely? The last time something akin to this had happened Minervar had disappeared, kicking off the search for her that had led Nar’Allia on many travels, the latest leading to her being right here now.
She stared at this patch of moonlight for a long time, some inner struggle obviously tormenting her mind. “I won’t touch anything”, she whispered to herself as she crept her way over to the glow to take a closer look. There quite plain to see upon the wall was a little button, well-disguised as a piece of fruit hanging upon the carved tree set into the wooden panelling. She found her finger creeping towards it, she grabbed hold of the offending finger as if it had a life of its own and needed to be kept under tight control. She looked from her finger to the place on the wood panel in horror. It was as if something or someone willed her finger to depress this little button. But she was not stupid, no way was she going to press it. She sat back against the far wall of the room staring at the small round thing set into the wall opposite. She wrapped her arms around herself for many minutes she just sat there. Eventually she came to a decision; she looke
d around the room for something to press the button with. There by the door, a long wooden shoehorn hung from a leather cord. She got up and walking over took the shoehorn down from its hook and grasped it by the handle. Then returning to the button she rested the shoehorn on the button. She waited. What did she wait for? Bah, she pushed gently, the button went click and she immediately dropped the shoehorn and withdrew her hand as if it had been burnt, she caressed the fingers subconsciously.
She had without knowing it closed her eyes. She realised this only when she tried to see the result of the button being depressed. But no weird feeling or any strange sensations of movement became apparent. She opened one eye, relief spread across her as she realised she was still in the room. She opened the other eye. There above the little button a small door lay open. She tried to see within but she could not from where she stood, so she slowly went closer. There behind the door was a small alcove in which were stashed many pieces of paper and envelopes all tied with a green silk ribbon. She gave a sigh for nothing sinister seemed to be within this alcove, it was just a secret place to keep things after all. Becoming more confident she picked up the shoe horn once again and using its tip she gently reached in and teased out all of the papers, they fell out upon the floor in three or four neatly tied rolls; one by one they fell to the floor and rolled away from the alcove in various directions. One of the ribbons had come loose and the various papers had spilled across the floor. She prodded the nearest ones with the shoehorn turning them over. She could see an old T’Iea script written across some of the papers and on the envelopes. One repeated phrase could be seen clearly, it read:
To my Dearest One.
Curiosity beyond apprehension overcame her and she dropped the shoehorn and picked up the nearest sheet of paper.
After an immeasurable time Nar’Allia sat back on the floor her back against the wall of the room. She looked at the pile of letters that now rested in her lap and lay scattered around her. Her thoughts strayed back to when she had pulled on the ribbon that tied the first role together, it undid easily, she had unfolded the first piece of paper. It was perhaps as she had expected a letter to Serinae, she glanced overleaf and found the signature of the sender, she was shocked, the name read clearly:
Yours with all my heart, Tezrin.
She had dropped the paper along with the pile of letters onto the rug beside her, these were love letters, intimate communications between two people who loved each other dearly. She felt dirty, she couldn’t read these private things. She felt like a sneak, a thief in the night, spying on something that was nothing to do with her. But thoughts went through her mind, eventually one thought in particular, what if she were meant to read these, perhaps she would find some clues in between the sweet talk and emotion, but could she do this? After all she had always wanted to understand Serinae better, wanted to get a glimpse of the ranger as a person. Why not through these written words? She thought she might ask Serinae’s permission, but she no longer had the quiver, no longer had the mechanism to contact the ranger. She had sighed. After a few minutes she had moved to pick up the pile of letters once more and clutching them close to her chest she had closed her eyes. She then remembered whispering under her breath, “please forgive me Seri.”
The candle sputtered out with a crackling hiss. The scent of the last remnants of the smouldering wick reached Nar’Allia’s nose, at the same time the clock struck six in the morning, an old inbuilt sensory reaction awakened her. She could smell burning. BURNING! She jumped to her feet, immediately wishing she hadn’t, a stabbing pain shot through her back. She glanced at the thin wisp of smoke rising vertically from the spent candle, she groaned and wetting her forefinger and thumb with her tongue she snuffed out the smouldering wick. She straightened her back stretching the cramped muscles and looked down, she had fallen asleep on the floor leaning against the wall. She walked slowly around the room trying to bring life back into her complaining muscles. She saw all the pieces of paper and letters lying about on the rug and sighed.
She knew Serinae and Tezrin had been betrothed, knew Serinae loved him dearly, if the letters where to believed he loved her equally. The letters were tender, sincere, a great expression of the love they both felt, even though she only had one side of the story. But she knew a lot of the story now, for these weren’t only love letters, these were also reports and tales of exploits between comrades in arms. They told much, told of a life, two lives perhaps, both spent in service to their masters. There were references to the ranger guilds in Ter’Resell. Some remarks were cursory comments at dissatisfaction towards some task or another. But from reading between the lines it seemed that in those times many feared the on-going alliance between the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran and the ognod’s. Security was very high on the minds of the T’Iea and the Grûndén, that much was obvious. The Grûndén in their hidden mountain home here in the north provided a natural headquarters to keep a watchful eye on anything that may happen between the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran and the ognod’s, for any travel by emissaries or military forces of either of those races would need to traverse right past the Grûndén on their way to visit the domain of the other. So the arrangement was made. The T’Iea promised that two T’Iea rangers from the guild would be sent to Gwéldølĩn on the express request of the Grâumin, the Grûndén king, to undertake reconnaissance and other missions. Serinae it seemed was responsible on keeping a watchful eye on the ognod’s, which would explain her travels into the northern lands. Tezrin for his part was sent to spy on the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran in the east, although that assumption was Nar’Allia’s own, for although Tezrin told of who it was he was to spy on, he never let it slip exactly where he was going, even to Serinae. If Tezrin knew of the whereabouts of the T’Iea’Neat’Thegoran, he was under strict orders not to divulge this information. Nar’Allia wondered at these things, from what she read it seemed that there was a certain amount of mistrust between the ranger guilds in Ter’Resell and the military headquarters in Ter’Hadsnefel, why this should be was not clear from Tezrin’s writing in these letters. One thing was for sure though; these many partings seemed to upset Tezrin resulting in a great deal of anxiety on his part judging by Tezrin’s written complaints. Nar’Allia could only guess at how Serinae felt about the situation.
She read many accounts of their exploits, Tezrin explaining in some detail his latest mission and also writing to congratulate Serinae on her successes. Sometimes there was great detail describing a particular adventurous trip, other times the detail was sketchy, as if the writer was aware of the sensitivity surrounding what was written. Many times the real names of certain people were hidden and instead these people were referred to by abstract names or by their rank or position only and many variations in between. Mostly these were genuine tales aimed at entertaining the reader, or giving advice on some particular discovery that had been made, something that would obviously benefit the reader in some way. Yet as Nar’Allia read she also saw something changing over the years. Nar’Allia sighed. She saw Tezrin’s slowly changing attitude. She was still in no doubt that he loved Serinae. But he wrote of other things, ambition, needs, even excuses, he wanted Serinae to be like him, wanted to change her, he sort to persuade her to adapt to the changing opinions he was exhibiting. He was becoming much more selfish and rebellious even.
She noticed that Tezrin’s letters became much more one sided, much more to do with the events concerning him and far fewer comments concerning what Serinae was doing. She thought it may be selfishness on his part, he was bragging perhaps and not taking a lot of notice of Serinae’s tales and exploits. But Nar’Allia suspected that the changes were more to do with Serinae not telling him what she was doing, becoming suspicious perhaps of Tezrin’s changing attitudes. It became increasingly obvious even though Nar’Allia could not see what Serinae wrote, that mistrust was creeping into their relationship at least on the part of Serinae. Nar’Allia wished she had sight of the responding letters from Serinae, she wanted to understa
nd her side of the story, this must have hurt her badly. Nar’Allia thought how lucky for them and perhaps Seri, that both the rangers had been separated by their individual contracts with various Grûndén factions within the city and they obviously had lengthy periods of being separated by their individual responsibilities. Or then again perhaps this was unlucky, perhaps if they had worked more closely, then Tezrin wouldn’t have become the twisted and perverse thief of the stories that Minervar had told.
But something else caught Nar’Allia’s attention, in his later letters Tezrin started to hint and then plainly mention something to which he referred as a ‘short cut’, a private path to where most of his missions occurred. It still wasn’t clear what his missions were exactly; he had obviously been sworn to secrecy by his employers. Nar’Allia thought with some sarcasm whom his true employers may have been by this time. But never the less he still travelled extensively. He still complained that the weeks and months of travel kept them apart, he even seemed increasingly angry that he spent so much time away.
But then in one letter, a short one, he praised the Maker for giving him the power to discover what he termed as a permanent ‘short cut’ to Gwéldølĩn. He said that travel would now be almost instantaneous, she, that is Serinae, could even come and visit him using his ‘short cut’ whenever she wanted and be back in Gwéldølĩn before anyone had noticed her missing. Many letters following this made mention of certain times and dates when they could meet. The following letter would always make mention of how good it was to meet in the ‘lower halls’. Nar’Allia became very excited about mention of these lower halls, for Serinae had also mentioned the same term through their discussion via the quiver. She had read on, but no further mention was made of any lower halls. In fact the regularity of their secret meetings seemed to lessen dramatically. Then in one letter, there seemed to be a warning, for Tezrin had written as a foot note the words, ‘but perhaps our Grûndén friends have become suspicious, always be watchful, look out for the miner my dearest!’
Interestingly, following this time, the regularity of communications by letter became less and less common, sometimes it was a year or more between the letters, and the writing in them was becoming more and more curt and business-like. Less like the musings and romantic notions of lovers in separation. Nar’Allia also noticed that certain parts of Tezrin’s letters had been defaced so that they could not be read, or whole pages removed altogether, she wondered at this, was it Serinae that had done this or were Tezrin’s letters subject to censorship by a third party? Once again Nar’Allia found herself wishing she could see the words in the letters that Serinae had written in response. She desperately wanted to understand how Serinae felt about all this. But she had to remain content with a one sided conversation.
Then she remembered, in one of the last letters written, Tezrin had said that he could make a visit using the ‘short cut’ on a certain day, but he would not have much time, he let slip that Serinae could perhaps meet him in the labyrinth beneath the lower halls. There was that term again. Nar’Allia wondered at this final reference to lower halls and the labyrinth? Nar’Allia could only assume that this ‘short cut’ was hidden perhaps beneath the lower halls of Gwéldølĩn, somewhere deep beneath the city perhaps? She needed some answers. She resolved she would ask Łĩnwéé at the first opportunity, for he was the only person she could think of that may know something of the outer reaches of the city, or if not perhaps make the necessary enquiries and remain discreet.
The following evening she got the opportunity, Łĩnwéé came by Dĩmmĩ’s house for dinner. Nar’Allia sat at the table along with the Grûndén of Dĩmmĩ’s household; once again Łĩnwéé was holding court, telling jokes and stories. Nar’Allia though was picking at her food, she was too excited to eat much and she was frustrated at not being able to ask Łĩnwéé what she wanted, some sense within her told her to be cautious of others over hearing what she wanted to say. So she had to sit for hours through the conversations of others, including Tnie’s explanations of his meetings with the Grâumin and his advisers. At least the official part of their business in the Grûndén city seemed to be going well. She felt guilty, for she had not done anything to aid Tnie so far, she felt she had let the Pnook King down. She had apologised to Tnie earlier in the day, he had smiled and told her that negotiations were going well and she didn’t need to worry.
Nar’Allia was feeling a little miserable; she was chasing yet another small piece of green vegetable around her plate with her fork when she felt a hand upon her shoulder. She looked up, Łĩnwéé stood there a broad smile on his face. “Ach m’ wee lassie, ye seem nat t’ be with us this evenin’. P’raps ye would consent to tak’ a walk with me, ‘tis a pleasant evenin’ an’ I feel a diversion is on t’ cards?”
Nar’Allia smiled back, “I’m sorry Łĩnwéé, my mind is on other matters.” Then realising that she had just been invited away from here and would have the opportunity to ask Łĩnwéé what she wanted, she stood and said, “yes a walk, that would be the good.”
They had been walking slowly through the streets of the city for some while, for the most part they were silent, each to their own thoughts, but now they stood on one of the ornate bridges that spanned across two sections of the city, the water cascading down into the fathomless depths below the bridge had taken on a silver-blue hew, it looked like a complex silvery necklace adorning a maidens neck as it reflected the moonshine from the Brĩschlåûndérgré high above. Łĩnwéé puffed absentmindedly upon a long clay pipe, one hand resting upon the parapet looking dreamily down into the depths below.
Nar’Allia was also following his gaze downwards. She was thinking of the letters. Suddenly she asked. “Do you know what lies down there, I mean deep beneath the city?”
Łĩnwéé after being asked, thought for a while. “Well m’ wee lassie, I’ve seen many store houses in t’ lower sections o’ t’ city. Then there be t’ foundries an’ workshops o’ course. I dunny get down there much ye un’stand, m’ place is up here, always has been.”
Nar’Allia nodded. “Yes, but I mean even lower still, have you heard mention of some places called the lower halls, or the labyrinth perhaps, even a mine far beneath the city?”
Łĩnwéé thought once again, “I nay heard anythin’ ab’ut lower halls, or a labyrinth, o’ that ye speak, or anywheres that could be described as abein’ beneath the lower halls. Mind ye, that’s not asayin’ that there aren’t none. Jus’ I be nat aknowin’ ye un’erstand. Certainly I dunny think there be any mines beneath us, most o’ the minin’ goes on in t’ mountains beyond t’ city gates. But then I nat be a miner either ye un’erstand, soldierin’ is m’ life, always was.”
Nar’Allia slowly nodded her understanding, “so then is there anyone in the city that may know perhaps?”
“Well, anyone that be aworkin’ down in these lower halls I suspects.” Łĩnwéé rubbed his chin in thought, “perhaps thar be one place though that may be aprovidin’ a’ answer.”
Nar’Allia nodded enthusiastically, her eyes held the question in her mind.
“Well, me old tutor, me lore master o’ old. Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd Fløwsélld, as was. Maybe he had such knowledge.”
“As was?” asked Nar’Allia.
Łĩnwéé nodded slowly and sighed. “Aye, well ‘e passed on, ‘e died, called back t’ Lord Øédréll. Not lang after I be aleavin’ fo’ t’ north, in truth. That time wit’ yer mother an’ her other companions. By t’ time I had returned t’ poor old codger was buri’d in ‘is grave, Lord Øédréll rest ‘is soul.”
Nar’Allia’s shoulders slumped and she sighed.
Łĩnwéé tapped the bowl of his pipe on the edge of the parapet, the remaining burning embers dropped downwards until they were caught on a breeze that made them flare and then snuff out. “Dunny ye fear none now lassie, the man ‘imself may be agone now, an’ that be a sorry state o’ affairs true enuff, but much o’ ‘im remains still. Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd, well ‘e lived many an age,
I dunny know how old ‘e be when ‘e passed, but ‘e amassed much in ‘is long life oh that I be sure. I can get us in t’ his house, an’ more importantly in t’ ‘is library. Me abein’ a former pupil an’ all.”
Nar’Allia smiled, “do you think we may find some answers there?”
“Aye well lassie, ‘tis worth a try me thinks. If there be any records o’ old, then there in that house they be fo’ sure.”
Nar’Allia gave a squeal of delight and she skipped alongside Łĩnwéé as he escort her back to Dĩmmĩ’s house. She felt a great excitement and she badgered poor Łĩnwéé all the way back about making the arrangements as soon as possible. Finally he had committed a promise to take her to the library of which he had spoken first thing in the morning.
The following day as promised, Łĩnwéé and Nar’Allia stood outside a great Grûndén mansion house. Nar’Allia found herself in a more prosperous part of the city. Many fine homes stood here, most were in sight of the Grâumin’s palace high on the topmost plateau of the numerous city pinnacles, in fact Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd’s mansion overlooked the wide bridge that crossed the final chasm to the highest pinnacle of the city on which could be seen the front gates of the Grâumin’s palace. She looked up at the grand façade of Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd’s mansion; many windows lined the front of the house looking across the bridge to the gate and the parkland beyond. She turned to look in the direction of the palace; she could make out a long road leading through the trees to the sumptuous looking palace sitting in its own grounds. About halfway up this wide avenue she could see that the road divided into two and circled around a low wall beyond which a grassy mound rose up in a slight incline until it reached a pedestal on which stood a golden statue. She then turned back once more to see what would happen next.
Łĩnwéé seemed in an odd mood, he wasn’t his usual chatty self, in fact he seemed subdued, almost nervous for he fiddled with the clasp of his belt and other pieces of his uniform. He seemed to be making final adjustments to his personal attire, as if trying to smarten himself up as best he could. Nar’Allia wondered if her excited attitude and the continuous chatter she was bombarding the poor Grûndén with had perhaps silenced him. But when she apologised he said not, his mood had more it was being here back in this place once again, he felt like a young student every time he came here and stood before the door to the mansion.
“But Łĩnwéé. What is there to be afraid of here? Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd’s has passed, he no longer has any hold over you, what is it that you find so uncomfortable here in this place?”
Łĩnwéé remained staring up at the door, three wide steps led up to a wide landing; the door was framed between two pillars. “Nay, he has nat a single hold o’er me now he be dead. But I fear the memory o’ ‘im still. Well not fear, I jus’ remain in awe o’ ‘im is all. Ye may not be able to un’erstan milady. ‘Tis difficult t’ explain t’ ye, ye nat abein’a Grûndén an’ all.”
Nar’Allia shook her head whilst she smiled. She walked up the steps and stood in front of the door, she looked left and right and found what she was looking for. She reached up and pulled on an ornate handle she knew would ring the bell for attention. After a few minutes the door opened, a surly looking Grûndén in house livery stood upon the open threshold looking down his rather large and ruddy nose at them through an ornate pair of pince-nez. He had an enquiring expression upon his face.
“Milady? What may I be adoin’ for ye t’day?” He then bent slightly to his left and looked around Nar’Allia. She turned to see Łĩnwéé still standing where he was at the foot of the steps.
Łĩnwéé jumped back slightly. “Ach master Ĝûnthél, ‘tis good to see ye once again.”
The Grûndén coughed, he removed the pince-nez from his nose and tucked them into a waistcoat pocket. “Oh ‘tis ye then, well ye better come on in.” The Grûndén stood to one side allowing them entrance. As they passed him he repeated, “what be it I can do fo’ ye t’day?”
They stepped through the large doorway, the heavy oaken door slammed shut behind them. Łĩnwéé replied, “aye well we have some knowledge we be aseeken’, an’ t’ best place to be alookin’ here in Gwéldølĩn be here in the mansion o’ Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd.”
Master Ĝûnthél nodded, “aye well ye have t’ right Łĩnwéé Ârcønrâdenn, ye name be written in the book o’ entrance right enough. That be clear from the master’s last testament fo’ sure. Øédréll look kindly upon ‘is soul.” He then shuffled off without a further word.
Łĩnwéé and Nar’Allia followed once they suspected that Master Ĝûnthél wished them to do so even though he had not said as much.
They passed through a porch that exhibited many furnishings obviously designed for the storage of outer ware, coats and cloaks hung upon metal hooks and many pairs of iron clad boots where set upon a grill. Above the coats a shelf sported many fine hats and other headgear. They were led through two great stained glass panelled doors and shown into a very large entrance hall, a sweeping stair wound around the walls and disappeared above their heads, leading presumably to the floors above. Many tapestries and pictures lined the wood panelled walls. In the centre of the entrance hall stood a large oak table. Upon this stood a large, bell-shaped glass jar. Inside where two beautiful birds perching upon a branch, they looked like they were fighting, or at least having some kind of disagreement for their beaks were open showing rows of small sharp teeth. Nar’Allia recognised them as similar to the birds she had seen flying around the city cavern when they had first arrived. But these two were obviously long dead, the result of a skilled taxidermy no doubt and placed in the jar to keep them from the ravages of dust and time.
Along one wall was a long oak sideboard; it matched the table with similar patterns carved into the solid looking wood. It was to this sideboard that Master Ĝûnthél went, he crouched and opened a door, from the interior he retrieved two glasses and a decanter containing some deep red liquid which he proceeded to pour into the two glasses. Then placing the now full glasses upon a silver platter he offered the drinks to Nar’Allia and Łĩnwéé, they both accepted and holding their glasses continued to wonder at the room they were in.
Master Ĝûnthél bowed and broke the silence, “if ye be aneedin’ anything, jus’ ye ring t’ bell o’er there.” He indicated towards a long and elaborate gold coloured cord and tassel that hung down the wall next to a set of double doors that led off the entrance hall. But these were closed so Nar’Allia could not see what lay beyond.
After Łĩnwéé had watched the departure of Master Ĝûnthél and the doors through which he exited the room were closed once more. He said, “come lassie, t’ library, it be through ‘ere.”
He pushed upon two large doors that opened to reveal a large room. They walked in. The room was full of shelves each of which were crammed full of books, tomes and manuals of all sizes. Nar’Allia had seen Solin’s library in Amentura, but that paled when compared with the size of this place.
Nar’Allia started to inspect the many shelves of books that surrounded the interior of the room they were in. Most, if not all were written in the Grûndén language, at this point Nar’Allia wished she had been more attentive when being taught the Grûndén language in her small school in the great wood. She wished Solvienne were here, for she knew that her sister did speak and write many languages fluently. She asked, “Łĩnwéé can you translate for me?”
Łĩnwéé grunted, “aye lassie if ye need me to, but readin’ is not me favourite thing ye unerstan’?”
Nar’Allia sighed; this was going to be an impossibly long task. Firstly she would need Łĩnwéé to read the titles of every book, then when she became interested in one title she would need him to open the book and read the contents, then read whatever she thought may be interesting. It would take a day just to go through one shelf of one book case, she sighed when she looked around the room at the many book cases that lined the walls.
Perhaps in an effort to lighten her mood Łĩnwéé said
, “dunny ye be down now lassie. ‘Ere come tak’ a look at these’uns.” Nar’Allia allowed Łĩnwéé to take her hand and lead her over to one of the bookcases, he pointed at a shelf. She scrutinised the spines of the books and was delighted to see that in fact the book titles of these volumes were written in the T’Iea language. But then she noticed something else; the many books that sat upon these shelves were all authored by a T’Iea name she recognised. Book after book made reference to the author being one Solin’De’Teinde.
“Aye lassie, Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd seemed to know o’ the lady, ‘e never mentioned how though, at least nat to me.”
This was all getting too much. Solin now also had a presence in Gwéldølĩn. Was she here? Was she here with Serinae? With Tezrin even? Did she know Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd? She walked over to a table and sat in a firm wooden chair. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair whilst looking up at the shelves of books on the wall in front of her.
Łĩnwéé came over to her, he had a concerned look upon his face. He tried to smile in an effort to try and lighten her mood. “Oh, I have somethin’ that I’d liken to show ye.” he produced a letter in an envelope from his coat pocket. “He left this t’ me as part o’ his estate, dunno what it be, but ye may p’raps?” He held it out to Nar’Allia to take. “ere ye can read it, ‘tis in the common tongue, perhaps make somethin’ o’ it. Fo’ it means not a thing t’ me.”
Nar’Allia rested her elbows on her knees, but she looked round at Łĩnwéé and held up one hand, she hesitated, remembering her intrusion into the private lives of Serinae and Tezrin she said, “no Łĩnwéé I couldn’t it is a personal letter to you, I couldn’t possibly …..”
But Łĩnwéé had thrust the letter into her hand. He turned and walked across to one of the many windows and with his hands clasped behind him looked out over the bridge towards the Grâumin’s palace, he stood there and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Nar’Allia got the impression that he wanted her comment upon whatever it was that she now held and he waited for that response. She lowered her gaze from Łĩnwéé’s back and looked at the letter she held. She slowly removed the parchment from the envelope and opened it. A lovely flowing script was written there upon the page. She read:
To my honoured and long-suffering pupil, master Łĩnwéé Ârcønrâdenn.
My dear Łĩnwéé,
You are reading this because I am no longer within the world for the Lord Øédréll has taken me home to his halls of rest. I am not bitter at this; my life has been long and full of adventure. A long life, far longer than I suspect you would imagine. My adventures have been many and my long life has meant I was and still am party to much knowledge that has perhaps passed from all recollection except for those few of us that remain. Those few who carried the weight of the truth of the world. Few indeed for only one other now remains following my passing and I hope that she still enjoys good health. You, I hope have shared some of that adventure, for you out of all my various charges had proven in my mind to be worthy. To this end I have chosen you to be custodian of all that I have.
I have perhaps treated you with less than respectful attitude at times, but my dear Łĩnwéé you will I hope accept that this was my way of expressing my gratitude and great fondness for you. I never married, I have no sons onto which will pass my humble inheritance. There is no family heir to benefit from what I have accumulated in this world. I had the great misfortune to have outlived all those of my immediate family and all other relations further afield. It is therefore, to you and you alone that I bequeath all I have.
So, to this end I hope you accept all that is, was, Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd Fløwsélld for I am he and I would deem it an honour that you take on all that was mine.
I will be forever your friend. Now in death, as in life.
Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd Fløwsélld
Nar’Allia gasped. “But Łĩnwéé you are master of all this unless I am mistaken?” She waved her hand encompassing the whole room and beyond. “Does he not extend to you a great honour? Does he not recognise you as his successor? How can you not understand this?”
Łĩnwéé turned and faced her once more, he sighed. “Nay Narny. O’ course I u’nerstan’ that. ‘Tis a great ‘onour to me, who in their right mind could nat be ‘onoured t’ receive all these riches. But, I fear ‘tis a great burden to me to, fo’ I nat be a scholar an’ I feel I possess too simple a mind to do justice to this place an’ everything in it. But that’s nay why I wanted to show that letter, ye read farther down, ‘e added a bit at t’ bottom o’ the page. That be most perplexin’.”
Nar’Allia thought about the house in Amentura, all that it contained but she did not understand. How alike that was to the place she now found herself within. But Amentura had excited her, even if she could never make head nor tail of everything it contained, she found it was a great joy looking never the less. Łĩnwéé on the other hand seemed genuinely scared of something here, or perhaps as she expected it was just something in his own mind that held him in such fear. She looked at Łĩnwéé, his face held an expectant expression as he motioned towards the letter she still held, sure enough more script continued below the signature. It read:
p.s. I know that you are no scholar, but you are honourable and possess a great strength of mind and of body, I know without doubt that having given you everything then it will be kept for all time in safe hands. There is much here my dear Łĩnwéé that will perhaps prove useful in the future, not just to the Grûndén but to others also, to all the Combined Races. There is much history that may have been forgotten and a time will surely come when such information may prove invaluable. My guess is that such a time is closer than any of us think.
There is something here that was given to me in secret by someone you know. They told me that it guards a secret that we the Grûndén should guard and keep safe, for this secret has the potential of bringing much danger to the Grûndén and to Gwéldølĩn. I have been this items keeper for a while, but now this responsibility falls to you my dear Łĩnwéé, I pray to Lord Øédréll he will ease the burden of its keeping. But as you are my heir and this is now part of my estate, it now belongs to you. I have kept it separate, for I feel that the nature of its import may surpass anything of which I can guess. I felt it was best kept a secret, for much woe may befall us if it were to find its way into the wrong hands.
Nar’Allia read this through once more before she folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope. She looked up and held the letter forth, Łĩnwéé was already standing facing her once more, his hand was also extended towards her, it obviously held something, but she could not see what, for his hand was held palm down, his fingers curled around something as yet unseen. He took the offered letter in his other hand and before she could retract her hand he indicated that she should hold it out and accept whatever it was he held.
Nar’Allia felt something small drop into her palm. Łĩnwéé seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, he stepped back saying, “that be also wit’ the letter, I know nat what it be.”
Nar’Allia looked slowly down to whatever lay in her open palm. She gasped and cried out as there sitting in her hand was something that she had seen before, something that brought many memories flooding back into her mind.
Łĩnwéé moved towards her a look of concern upon his face; he did not expect such a reaction from giving such a small thing.
Nar’Allia just stared at what she held, there in her palm was a small circular disk, upon it was a slit-eyed face with a slit for a mouth. One short remark escaped her mouth as she stared at what she held. “A Dolan. A gate seal.”
Łĩnwéé just cocked his head to one side and looked puzzled.
She stared at the thing for some minutes before seemingly coming out form a trance. “It is something I have come across before Łĩnwéé, their original use is to gain access to places far from here, places I have been to in my travels, but that is another tale. However, certain individuals somehow
managed to get hold of some of these, I knew that three had been found in this way. Two I have knowledge of, this third one I did not know truly existed until now.” Nar’Allia suddenly looked shocked, her eyebrows rose as she said, “by the Maker Łĩnwéé let me see that letter once more if you please?” Nar’Allia read the 'ps' at the bottom of the letter once more.
There is something here that was given to me in secret by someone you know.
“Serinae, the ‘someone’ that Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd wrote about here in this footnote, it has to be a reference to Serinae.” She looked at Łĩnwéé. “You know of her, you travelled together; you were both here together in Gwéldølĩn. Serinae was also one of the individuals I mentioned that had in their possession one of these three gate seals.” She thought for a while and realisation suddenly dawned across her face. “Łĩnwéé, if you have sufficient knowledge you can manipulate the characteristics of these Dolans to allow them to lock and unlock certain things that you wish them to.”
Łĩnwéé held his head cocked on one side, he looked at what Nar’Allia held in the palm of her outstretched hand once more. “Then I be awonderin’ m’ wee lassie, jus’ what that’n be unlockin’ eh?”