Chapter Nine: Legolas

“I will stay with him while you dress,” I heard Adar say softly as I wandered upward through the thick, milky layers of deep sleep. “We will need to see the troops off shortly.”

Only the faint rustle of my naneth moving about could be heard. “I will not be long,” she said. “I hated to ask Noreth to stay with Legolas while we are seeing the troops off.  She will want to see Seregon before he leaves.”

A chair creaked and groaned in soft complaint as someone—I assumed Adar—sat down. “Who will stay?” he asked.

My naneth made an amused snorting sound. “Daeron,” she said dryly.

Adar chuckled. “Help will be nearby if he requires it.”

“I hope Legolas will sleep. He has had a difficult last day and night. He needs the rest,” Naneth said. “I will be ready quickly.” The door of my chamber opened and closed quietly.

My body felt limp and weak, and my shoulder ached as if I alone had been holding up the walls of my father’s stronghold against the tide of ruin. Any movement seemed too much of an effort and even the smallest twitch of a muscle was sluggish and heavy. Little memory remained of the aftermath of the spider bite or my journey back to my own bed. All that stayed with me was a snatch of memory here and there that spoke of terrible pain and roiling nausea. At least once, I know Adar held my head as Guilin poured his vile potions down my throat and ordered me to swallow. Beyond these meager details, I knew little of what time of day or night it was or how long I had been safely in my bed. Though I was far from feeling well, I was still relieved to find that I was back to myself and capable of staying in the present.

Finally, when I had awakened enough, I forced a crack in my eyes to see Adar seated by my bedside. He sat still and quiet, reading from a stack of papers he held. The day was underway, I thought, as he was dressed in formal robes. No crown or circlet was upon his bent head. It is morning then, I realized. Naneth had gone to dress and Adar was not yet ready for court.

My tongue felt thick and dry as I touched my tongue to my parched lips. “Adar,” I whispered, my voice sounding brittle and course as if it had grown rusty from disuse.

Immediately, he put the papers aside and leaned forward to brush my hair from my forehead. “Good morning, little one,” he smiled. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” I said, trying to place a smile of reassurance on my face, but feeling instead, the faint quivering of strained muscles. “But I am thirsty.”

He moved swiftly to pour a cup of water from a pitcher at my bedside. Gently, he placed his hand behind my head and lifted me to place the cup to my lips.  Despite the slightly acrid taste of water after being so ill, I drank gratefully, relaxing in the relief of feeling the cool drink trickling down my parched throat.

After I had taken all I could, Adar placed the cup on the night table and sat back to look me over with the keen eye of a knowing father. “Guilin says that you will feel weak for several days, but you will be back to yourself soon,” he said.

“I am feeling much better,” I said. Indeed this was true, but I could have only said, if pressed, that I felt only as well as someone who had been trampled by a pack of stampeding wargs.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Adar said. “You have had a difficult time.”

“I recall very little,” I said.

“That is just as well,” he said. “I would rather you focus on getting better.”

“I am,” I said.

“The other novices returned yesterday,” he told me as he repositioned himself deeper into the large arm chair. “I am told the games went well until the encounter with the spiders. No one else was harmed in the attack.”

I nodded, relieved that everyone was well, but found that even so simple a movement as moving my head caused pain to shoot through my neck and my shoulder. I could not contain the grimace that pushed my face into a frown.

“Are you in pain?” Adar asked as he sat forward again.

“A little,” I said. “But I think I will be fine if I do not move.”

“Guilin will be back soon, and he will give you something to ease your pain,” he said as he leaned closer, “unless you need for me to send for him now?”

“No,” I said. “I will wait. If it is not worse than it is now, then I do not think I need anything.”

“He said that if you were feeling well enough this morning, we would see about some broth,” Adar said. “Are you hungry?”

“I am fine, Adar,” I said exasperation finally sounding in my voice. There are times when he hovers about me that I think he is worse than Naneth. When Adar is worried, he becomes more than demanding than usual. Naneth has told me that this is because he is used to having his commands obeyed and when something is not within his power to command, he tries harder to bring it back under back under his control, even if it is not possible.

Slowly, he sat back again into the cushions, but his eyes did not stop scrutinizing me. With the tip of his finger, he lightly touched his cheekbone. “How did you come by that bruise?”  His brows rose. “How odd that Daeron has a similar one.”

I wanted to touch my face, but the weight of my hand felt as if an iron ball pinned it to the bed.

“Should I look any further to see who else might have similar marks?” he asked.

“No,” I said softly. Though I had no idea that I had a bruise on my face, I had no doubt as to where it had come from. “Adar, I…” I stammered. “I had a disagreement with one of the novices.”

“Not Daeron?” he asked.

“No,” I said, quickly. “He…he tried to separate us and the other novice hit me while Daeron was pulling me away. Daeron was angry that Belas hit me. I suppose that is how he also got a bruise.”

“I see,” Adar said. “Daeron and Belas also fought?”

I nodded and winced again at the cramps that moved through my neck.

“What caused this squabble?” Adar asked.

“Belas had been taunting one of the other novices throughout the games and…I did not mean to hit him, but…he made me angry,” I said. I saw no reason to tell him the things Belas had said about Aldamir. They were simply not true.

“Legolas, you know that fighting is not the way to deal with disagreements,” he said. “Why did you not talk to the masters about this?”

“I intended to, but I did not stop to think when everything happened.”

“By allowing him to anger you, iôn-nín, you gave him control of the situation,” he said. “You realize this, do you not?” 

All I could muster was a miserable nod.

“I am certain there will be consequences from the masters,” he said.

A soft knock to the door saved me from further discussion and what I feared would have been the consequences that would be delivered from him. “Come,” Adar called.

Daeron came in, smiling. As Adar had said, he was also sporting a black eye that covered not only his eye, but also a bluish-black mark that ran down the side of his cheek. “Good morning, Uncle,” he said cheerfully. Daeron then turned to me; his smile brightened further. “I am glad to see you awake.”

“Thank you,” I muttered.

“Good morning, Daeron,” Adar said as he stood. He looked down upon me.  “The troops are leaving this morning to go to the western woods. Your naneth and I will see them off. We will return shortly. In the meantime, Daeron will stay with you while we are gone.”

“I will be fine,” I said.

“Do not attempt to get out of the bed,” Adar ordered. “Daeron will call for assistance should you need anything.”

“Yes, Adar,” I sighed.

As soon as Adar had closed the door, Daeron sat down in the chair. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I am fine,” I repeated by rote, and slightly wearied of the repeated inquiry. I was more interested in what had happened during and after the spider attack. “Or I was until Adar asked me why I have a bruise on my face.”

Daeron’s eyes widened. “Is he angry?”

“Not happy would be a better way to describe him,” I said.

“I suppose he is waiting until the masters talk to you before he exacts his pound of flesh,” Daeron said.

“If you had not arrived, then I think I would have heard more. But as it stands, I do not think Adar will say anything until I am on my feet and he can keep me there throughout his sentencing,” I said. I smiled. “Do not think that you are off the hook with him either. I am certain that he will have something to say to you as well, if he has not already spoken to you.”

Daeron shook his head. “I have not been called to the office of doom yet, if that is what you are asking,” he said. “But I have already suffered the fire of the angry naneth.” He sighed. “She alternated hugging me and scolding me while trying to place an herb soaked cloth on my face and prepare a bath for me…as if I could not fill a tub on my own.”

I smiled weakly. Aunt Noreth has always been an endless source of amusement for me. Where my naneth is very loving and warm, Noreth is a natural caretaker of all children, even when those children have grown up. There is such love and kindness in her fussing, that it is hard to take offense, though Daeron still finds her mothering to be maddening. Seregon has learned to accept this with grace and not a small amount of amusement himself. As a matter of fact, I think Seregon tends to fuss over her when she treats him in this manner and in the confusion of both of them fussing over one another she seems to lose sight of her original goal and ends up doing his bidding.  “Has Seregon said anything?” I asked, knowing that what Seregon had said would prepare me for what I could expect from Aldamir.

“No,” Daeron told me. “Thankfully, he has not had time to worry much with me. All I have seen of him has been in passing.”

Suddenly, a thought came to me. “What about the masters? Have they said anything to you or to Belas?” I asked.

Daeron shook his head. “Not yet,” he groaned. “Everyone was so tired when we got in yesterday, they simply dismissed us. I expect they will call us to them this morning.”

I snorted. “Apparently they have told Adar. Or Aldamir and Seregon did. Even though he did not say so, I think Adar knew that the bruise on my face came from an Elf and not a spider.”

“Melda must have told him,” Daeron said with a slight aggrieved tone to his voice. “We will certainly hear an earful from the masters now. Can you imagine how angry they are with us? They had to tell the king that we had been fighting. Now I am truly nervous about meeting with them.”

“Maybe they will wait until I am able to return to training and talk to us all at once,” I suggested, hopefully.

“Perhaps,” Daeron said. “But I would be surprised. I do not think they will let this pass until then. I expect that they will say something today.” He grimaced. “And then I will be cleaning out stables or scrubbing armor for a month.”

“I will be joining you soon enough,” I said. “How did Belas behave on the trip home?”

Daeron shrugged. “He was quiet. No one spoke much. I do not think anyone could quite believe what had happened. And the masters set a brisk pace back to the stronghold. There was little time to talk.”

“And Alar?” I asked.

A bright smile lit his face. “I do not know what you recall, but Alar was a sight to behold during the battle. For a small one, he certainly did his part.”

Thinking back, I did indeed recall little of the battle. Events had unfolded so quickly, and I was jarred from my anger with Belas with such speed, that everything turned into a blur where I was aware of little more than drawing and releasing my bow and the whirl of my knives as I simply reacted to the threat. “I do not remember many details,” I said. “I was busy unsuccessfully defending myself.”

Daeron laughed. “Alar stood his ground and fought bravely. I do not think he knew he had it in him.”

“He handled his weapons well then?” I asked, surprised to hear this.

“He was fine,” he said. “I would not say he is ready to be a warrior yet, but I do not think I could say that about any of us. But he did well enough. Belas was the most surprised, I would say.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

Daeron shrugged. “I do not know if he said anything. If he did, I did not hear it.” He grinned. “I got the impression from the look that was on his face when he looked at Alar that he was quite shocked. He looked as stunned as if he had just met Elbereth.”

I chuckled. “How did Belas react during the battle with the spiders?”

Daeron shrugged again. “He did well enough too, but he was as shaken as the rest of us. And I must say I was pleased to see that he was shaking like a leaf in a stiff wind when it was over. He was not as collected as he would have had us believe he would be.”

“With Alar at his back, no less,” I said.

Daeron smiled. “With Alar at his back.”

I smiled, feeling somewhat mischievous. “And you, cousin? How did you do when the spiders charged us?”

Daeron rolled his eyes and grimaced. “I survived.”

“You stood your ground too,” I reminded him. I did remember Daeron at my back and I could see in memory the sight of him battling with his blade flashing and cutting its way through the spiders as they came at us on the ground.

“I do not think I had much choice,” he said. “And they made me angry.”

“I see,” I smiled. “So if we can convince the garden spiders to insult you, then you will not be bothered by them anymore?”

“I will always be bothered by spiders,” he said. “But my hope is that I will no longer be having night terrors by the time I take my pledge to the king. I am too old to be sleeping with my nana.”

 “Now,” I said, satisfied at least for the moment that Daeron could laugh about the incident, “we have more to worry about than the spiders. The masters are our immediate concern. Surely they must know how Belas treated Alar on this exercise,” I said. “Perhaps they will not be too angry with us.” This was a vain hope I knew, but at that moment I wanted some expectation that getting better and returning to training would not be more painful than a spider bite.

“We do not have to be at training until after the warriors have gone,” he said. “I suppose I will find out then. But I am afraid that I do not share in your optimism that they will understand. I think this will count as not handling the situation well.”

“Unfortunately, I think that you are right,” I said and closed my eyes. “I cannot believe that I allowed Belas to anger me so. I know how he is.” Opening my eyes again, I said, “I did not think he could surprise me with anything he said or did, but I suppose I underestimated him.”

Daeron snorted. “He was out of line when he brought Aldamir into the discussion. And he knew it. He was trying to make you angry.”

“He succeeded,” I groaned.

“The only comfort we have,” he said, “is that Belas will suffer the same fate from the masters as we will. If it were not for how much it will hurt me,” he smiled, “I would be looking forward to what punishment the masters will give out.”

“When are the warriors leaving?” I asked.

“Soon,” he said. “They are nearly ready.”

“Are they going to the villages?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Now that there is hope that the red-banded menaces have been destroyed and many of the black ones dead or fleeing south, they will drive the ones that remain from the area.”

“They are not going to relocate the villages?” I said startled that so much had changed in the short time I had been away on the games. The last I recalled was that Adar was considering moving the villages closer into the protected woods, and I had heard that only in passing. I did not any more than that.

Daeron shook his head. “No, Aldamir feels they can drive the spiders out and the villages can remain where they are.”

I digested this new bit of news. “I suppose Aldamir has mixed feelings about this. If Elenna were closer, then he would be able to see her more often. Now that the villages will not be relocated, he will be days away from her instead of hours.”

Daeron said nothing, and a look I could not interpret crossed his face. “I would not know as Aldamir rarely confides in me,” he said finally with what I thought to be a forced smile. “But I suppose he will be most glad if the spiders can be routed.”

“Of course,” I said, watching Daeron’s strange reaction, “but I do not think I have ever seen him so serious about a maiden. She will be a long way off unless she decides to come here to live.”

The peculiar look crossed his face again, but he shrugged. “I have better sense than to ask any questions about our fearless commander’s personal affairs,” he said. “I do not wish to have my head bitten off.”

“No,” I agreed, “he would not appreciate that.”  When Daeron did not join as heartily in the humor of stepping aside from Aldamir’s irritation as I would have predicted, I knew something more than spiders was afoot. “What is going on?”

“Where?” Daeron asked.

“Here, you dolt,” I said. “Every time I mention Aldamir you get a strange look on your face.”

His eyes widened slightly and then he shrugged. “I suppose just thinking about the commander being angry with us gives me the chills,” he said as he casually swung his feet up to prop them on my bed.

“You are avoiding the question,” I said. “Something is going on, and I know that you know what it is.”

Daeron sat perfectly still. “I suppose it is not a secret,” he said and then gave me a lopsided grim smile. “The whole realm knows by now anyway.”

“Knows what, Daeron?” I said.

“Aldamir and Elenna have split,” he said.

The shock of this news caught me completely off guard. “They have?” I said. “Who initiated this break?”

Daeron shrugged. “I do not know that either of them actually initiated it, though I am not sure what else could have happened.” he said. “A blow-up would probably be more accurate.”

“Over what?” I asked.

“She is betrothed.”

“Betrothed?” I yelped. “But not to Aldamir?”

“No, not to your brother,” Daeron said. “She is betrothed to another Elf from her village.”

“She agreed to wed another Elf while seeing Aldamir?” I asked, stunned.

“Not exactly,” Daeron told me. “She agreed to wed another Elf and then she saw Aldamir.”

“She was betrothed all along?” I said, my voice rising. “How could she do this?” I shook my head and then shut my eyes tightly against the pain that shot through my skull. “Aldamir must be humiliated. We should have told him what Míriel said at the feast on the first night the villagers were,” I said as I struggled to sit up while holding my breath to steady myself against more hurt. “Move your legs,” I ordered. “I want to see him before he leaves.”

Daeron leaned forward and with a slight shove easily pushed me enough until I could no longer stay upright. I fell heavily back into my pillow. “You cannot go,” he said. “You would not make it half way across your room, and I will not carry you.”

“I want to see him before he goes,” I protested.

“He came by to see you this morning, but you were still sleeping like a baby,” he said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “I bade him and Seregon farewell for the both of us.”

“But I did not see him,” I said as frustration rose in my chest against the feeling of incapacity that I had been dealt by the spider that sank its foul fangs into me. At that moment, if I had been able to lift a knife, I would have delighted in slaying the horrid creature again.

“I have specific orders from the king that you are not to get out of bed,” he said, “and I will not suffer his wrath—or worse, your naneth’s—so that you can fall flat on your face.”

“How was he—when you saw him—how was he doing?” I asked as my heart squeezed tightly with sympathy and concern for my oldest brother. Only last winter, I had been interested in an elleth who was not interested in me. A warrior new to the ranks had captured her attention as I, a mere novice, watched. I felt terrible and no one knew but me that I had been watching her.  Not only had Elenna refused Aldamir for someone else, but everyone knew about it. I could only imagine how awful my brother felt. Aldamir was not one to give his affections lightly. Even I, at my age, knew this. For the short time he had known Elenna, I had thought his feelings for her were apparent, and I had truly believed, they would wed eventually. He must have been hurt and humiliated.

“He seemed well enough when I saw him,” Daeron said. “Seregon told me that he is disappointed and that he feels slightly foolish, but otherwise, he is himself.”

Forcing my arm to do my will, I ran my hand over my face and then let my arm drop fall heavily to the bed. “Disappointed seems a mild way to describe the way he must feel,” I said.

“Legolas,” Daeron said. “Aldamir is fine. When I saw him this morning, he was busy and his mind was elsewhere, but he seemed his normal dull self.” His face brightened with mischief. “I have met the Elf Elenna is betrothed to,” he told me with a sly grin.

“When?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” he said, “after we returned. I was going to run an errand for Naneth, and I crossed paths with him.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Good evening,” Daeron said.

“That is all?” I asked.

“He introduced himself and I introduced myself,” Daeron said. “I knew immediately who he was. Naneth had already told me about him.”

“What does he look like?” I asked.

Daeron twisted his mouth to one side as he apparently contemplated his answer. “He is…pretty.”

“Pretty?” I said astonished by such a description and especially from Daeron. He is a wood-elf and he appreciates beauty as much as anyone else, but I did not think I had ever heard him refer to a male in such a manner. He is more inclined to notice how well a male wields his weapons rather than how well groomed he is.

“Yes, pretty,” he said. “He does not look like the type to get his hands dirty.”

“What exactly does that mean?” I asked, trying to picture this pretty male Elf.

“Well,” Daeron said, drawing out his words, “he looks like the sort of fellow who manipulates others into doing his work.”

“Oh,” I said, giving him a short nod of my head in understanding, “somewhat like you.”

Daeron sighed heavily. “You are so funny, Legolas,” he said dryly. “I can hardly contain my laughter. You should ask your adar to assign you to court jester.”

“I have,” I said. “He does not think I am very humorous.” As best as I could with limbs as sturdy as straw, I punched my pillow up to raise my head. “What else did this clean Elf say?”

“He asked me if I was the king’s nephew, and I said I was and the queen’s too,” he said. “And then he asked if I lived in the palace and I said I did, just like the rest of the family.” Daeron smiled slyly again. “Then he asked me if I knew Lord Aldamir well.” Daeron snorted. “I suppose he did not know that I knew who he was.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I told him that of course, I did. Aldamir is my cousin, though I did not know him as intimately as the maiden he had been seeing. I told him he would have to ask her for specific details.” Daeron smiled. “He turned red as a holly berry.”

“You did not!” I said.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Then he drew himself up and said that she is his betrothed. And I asked him if she knew this.”

“What did he say then,” I asked.

Daeron gave me a silly flat grin. “He told me I was impertinent. Can you imagine that?”

“You are impertinent,” I said.

“Yes,” Daeron said, suddenly turning serious, “and he is trouble. And I do not say that just because of Elenna. I would have found him an indolent slug even had I not known about this unfortunate betrothal. Something about him is not on kilter.”  He waved his hand through the air. “I cannot say exactly what it is about him that I do not like, but I got the feeling that he is a conniving sort.”

“And you gleaned all this from a few minutes of conversation?” I asked.

“His manner is haughty and fussy,” he said. “Seeing who he truly is would not take even you long to uncover and you always look for the best in everyone.” His eyes narrowed. “He thought to take advantage of me and my relationship to Aldamir. I think he wanted to gain information from me about your brother. And he talked down to me like I was too stupid to know when I was being pried for information.” Daeron sniffed lightly. “I did not like him no matter who he is.”

“And he is pretty,” I said, sardonically.

“Too pretty,” he answered.

“Not handsome?” I asked.

“Aldamir is handsome. Seregon is handsome. This Elf is pretty,” Daeron said with finality.

“I see,” I said, thinking over Daeron’s observations. Daeron can be bold when someone rubs him the wrong way, but I have never known him to be rude with someone who has not earned his insults. Still, I could not decide exactly why Daeron was offended by this Elf. I know Daeron is loyal to Aldamir. I did not know for certain that this Elf was plotting against my brother. My experience with Daeron, though, told me that I should give Daeron the benefit of the doubt; he is usually quite astute in his assessments of people. His methods of dealing with them often lack elegance, but he is rarely mistaken about what he senses. “Do you think he intends harm to Aldamir?” I asked.

Daeron snorted. “I would say that he has already harmed Aldamir.”

“But what about Elenna’s part in all this?” I asked. “She deceived them both. Should she not be held accountable?”

“Of course,” he said. “But she is not slimy. I do not know what her thinking was when she got involved with someone else when she is betrothed, but I have not thought she meant Aldamir harm.”

“But she did harm him,” I said.

“Yes, but why?” he said. “I think she really cared for your brother.”

“You are defending her?”  I asked, surprised.

“No, of course not,” he said. “What she did was wrong. But I do not feel malice in her. I do in him.”

Again, I wondered about his keen ability for observations. My naneth senses things about people, though I do not know exactly what she is able to read. At times, she is so accurate that I think she must have spies following me, but she is a mother, and I do not think one can fool them often. Still, if this gift of hers is found in her family--and I have been told that her naneth was also gifted with insight--then perhaps Daeron has something of this knowing about him. If Daeron thought that this Elf from the village was an unsavory character, then I could see no reason to doubt him. “Why would this Elf want to know about Aldamir?” I asked. “Would he not be angry with Elenna for betraying him? Aldamir did not know she was betrothed.”

Daeron shook his head. “I do not know why he is interested in Aldamir,” he said. “You would think that he would be more interested in finding out why the person he was supposed to wed would be seeing someone behind his back.”

“I do not like this,” I said. “I see no sense in him wanting to know anything about Aldamir unless he was looking for something to use against him.”

“There is nothing about Aldamir that anyone could use against him,” Daeron said. “He is as straight as an arrow. He would never deceive anyone intentionally. Perhaps this Elf is merely sizing up his competition.”

“Does ‘this Elf’ have a name?” I asked.

“Calith,” Daeron said as if name itself was vile. “But I prefer to call him ‘this Elf’; it makes me feel better.”

Shifting slightly forward, I said, “I think this Elf named Calith bears watching.”

“You will notice that you are not in the position to watch anything but your ceiling, Legolas,” he smiled, “unless you wish me to invite him to your chambers so that you can peek out at him from under your covers.”

“I will not be here forever,” I said, a plan forming in my head. “You can watch him until Guilin allows me to leave my chambers.”

“Oh yes,” Daeron snorted. “That is a good idea. I can watch him between training and mucking out the stables or whatever punishment I draw from the masters for planting my fist in Belas’s jaw. Not to mention that I still have studies with our very understanding tutor. Just when do you suppose I will have time to track this Elf?”

I smiled. “I have never known such trivial things to interfere with you finding time to do as you wanted.”

“Who said I wanted to spy on this Elf?” he asked. “If I recall correctly, this is your idea.”

“You would let this Elf harm Aldamir?” I asked.

“Of course not,” he said. “Not if I can prevent it, but I do not know what I am looking for or how I will do it.”

“That has never stopped you before,” I said.

Daeron tilted his head to look askance at me. “I do not think insulting me will win me over to aid you,” he said.

I laughed. “You are not insulted. There is no one more suited to gleaning information than you. Finding out what Calith is up to will be child’s play for you.”

He nodded. “True, but my time will be limited.”

“Then do the best you can until I am released from this prison and can join you,” I said.

At that moment, Guilin came through the door. He smiled brightly. “I am so pleased to see you awake, Legolas,” he said. “I hope to hear that you are feeling much better.”

I nodded as Daeron stood and moved the chair away from my bedside so that Guilin could approach. We exchanged knowing glances before I turned my attention to the healer. I smiled to myself; I knew Daeron would not turn down such a challenge.

“I suspected that you would be better when you awakened,” Guilin said. “I think the worst is over.” Pulling the covers down to my waist, he began to run his hands over my body slowly, touching me lightly at times and other times, just skimming slightly above my skin. When he had finished, he pushed me gently to my side to look at my shoulder. “The wound is healing well,” he said.  “But it will be sore for several days more. You will also find that your muscles are weak and you may experience spasms off and on until all the venom has left your body.” He straightened. “I want you to drink all the water you can. That will help flush it from your body and hasten healing.”  He turned to the table next to my bed where an array of his healing things was placed. After finding the small earthen container he wanted, he opened it and dropped a little into my glass and then filled it with water. He handed it to me. “Drink this,” he said. “It will help draw out the venom. You will probably find that it will make you sleepy, but the rest is what you need for now.” I reached up to take the glass and he allowed me, but kept his hand firmly around mine. In only a moment’s time, my hand and arm began to quiver, and I was glad for his added support. In truth, I was far more fatigued than I had realized, and I also found that I was quite irritated by this slow recovery. When I had finished the foul tasting potion, he placed the cup back on the table and smiled. “Before you go to sleep, I will have the kitchen hasten to bring you some broth I have prepared for you. There are a few herbs in it that will also help to strengthen you. Take all of it,” he admonished me.

An unpleasant expression tugged at the corners of my mouth as I had sudden recall of his concoctions that I had had the displeasure of being subjected to in the past. He laughed and patted me gently on the leg. “My cooking is not nearly as bad as you suppose,” he said. “I think you will find my broth pleasant.”

“I will drink it,” I promised.

“Good,” he said as he went toward the door. “A servant will bring it.”

“Guilin,” I said as he made to leave.

He stopped. “Yes?”

“How much longer will I be kept to my chambers?” I asked.

“That will depend, young Legolas, on you,” he smiled. “If you follow my directions then you should be feeling well enough to move about in three or four days.” He held up his hand in warning. “Then you will have to remain relatively peaceful for perhaps a week.”

“A week!” I yelped. “When will I be allowed to return to training?”

“You will find,” he said, “that your strength will take several weeks before you are as you were before.” He made a show of contemplating my fate. “I would say that you will not be back to training for two weeks and possibly a few days longer. Until we see how you are recovering, I cannot say for certain. This spider was particularly virulent. Only time will tell.”

“That is too long,” I muttered.

“You have little choice, I am afraid,” he said. “Until your muscles calm and the weakness subsides, you cannot train safely.”

The door closed quietly and Daeron brought the chair back to the bed and sat down. He snorted softly. “Broth!” he snorted. “I have never known anything made by that Elf’s hand to be pleasant.”

“I hear he is a talented artist,” I offered dejectedly.

Daeron laughed. “Perhaps, but you do not have to eat his art.”

“True enough,” I agreed. “Then you will see what you can find out?” I asked turning once again to our plan.

With a grand roll of his eyes, he nodded.

By the time I had finished the broth, my eyes could no longer focus and my lids drooped.  The only bright spot that I could find at that time was that Guilin had not misled me; the broth’s taste was pleasant enough. The herbs gave it a slightly pungent taste, but over all, it was as I would have expected broth to taste.

As I drifted off to sleep, visions of spiders and my brothers fighting by my side flitted through my head. My arms felt as if they were weighted with iron as I struggled to fight off a large spider that hissed and spat blood at me. The red band gleamed like a polished brace around its slick middle.  The spider suddenly turned into Elenna. She turned to Aldamir. No sound came from me as I tried to call to him to watch out. He lowered his sword and stood perfectly still as she sank long glistening fangs into his neck.

When I awakened, Daeron was gone and Naneth was at my side. Her fragrance filled the room. Before I forced open my eyes, I relished the moment and simply let it be. Breathing deeply, I recalled a warm summer afternoon in the family garden, the air adrift with the perfume of roses and lilies, sweet earth and swaying pines. For an instance, I was a small elfling again, running barefoot over the stone path, chasing fireflies and laughing as Erelas lifted me up onto his shoulders so my reach extended to grab at the flashing little creatures trying to escape my earnest efforts of capture. But the aroma of my mother and the late evening wound together is what I remembered most. This fragrance alone could put me back into a calm slumber, but I was thirsty and ready to come away from Guilin’s potion-induced sleep, at least, for a while. No little effort was required for me to shake myself from the warm, safe presence that my naneth wove about me while I slept. But I stirred, and finding that my body, though sluggishly, was again answering my demands, I opened my eyes to her smiling face.

“Hello, child,” she whispered with a voice as soft as her smile.

All I managed was a small upward tilt of my mouth in greeting.

She placed aside the book she had been reading, and moved over to sit next to me on the bed.  Gently, brushing aside my sleep tousled hair from my face, she asked, “How did you rest?”

“Fine,” I said. “How long have I been asleep?” My ability to discern time remained completely confused. I had no idea if I had slept an hour or a day.

“For some hours,” she told me. “It is late afternoon now.” She smiled. “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded, my face sliding gently against the soft woven linen wrapper on my pillow thinking how often I am often amazed that my mother seems to know exactly what I want or need.

“I can offer you water or cider,” she said as she moved to the bedside table. “Guilin says that he cares not what you drink as long as you drink.”

“Cider,” I answered as I pushed with quivering muscles against the bed trying to raise myself to a sitting position. Pain shot through my shoulder. My vision swam in watery waves for a moment before it settled. Naneth stopped with her hand on the pitcher as she watched me struggle with my covers as if they were mass of heavy draperies. She made a slight move toward me as if coming to my aid, but I freed myself and managed with some effort to bring myself up enough to prop my back against the headboard of my bed.

“Your strength is returning,” she said as she poured cider into a cup and held it out to me. Once she was certain I could hold on to the cup, she released it and sat back down on the bed.

“I feel much better,” I said as I gulped the cool drink. I paused to let the sudden fatigue of moving pass.  “Did the warriors leave this morning?” I asked.

“Yes, they are gone,” she said.

“Daeron told me that they are going to try to push the remaining spiders below the elf-path,” I said.

“That is our hope,” she answered.

I took another sip as I watched her over the rim of the cup. With the cup still poised for me to take another drink, I said, “He also told me about Aldamir and Elenna,” I said. I took another sip while trying to gauge what she might reveal to me. I was certain that she knew more than almost anyone else, but what she would say on the subject was never to be taken for granted. She rarely discussed someone’s private affairs.

“Yes,” she said, calmly. “They are no longer seeing one another.”

“Daeron told me what happened,” I said. “About the other Elf that Elenna is betrothed to.” 

She said nothing for a moment and then said, “There seems to have been some confusion.”

I would say so, I thought. “How is Aldamir?” I asked.

Patting my leg, she said, “Do not worry for your brother. He is fine.” Straightening my covers, she fell silent again and then looked up at me. “Aldamir knows his duty, and he is a skilled warrior; he will be focused on what he has to do.” Again, I was amazed that she knew exactly what I was feeling. The thought of Aldamir going into battle while carrying this worry disconcerted me to no end.

“He must be very hurt,” I said as I took another drink from my cup.

Her brows knitted together, but relaxed quickly. “He has not spoken to me about his feelings,” she said. “But I trust him to take care.”

I sighed. “How did this happen, Naneth?” I asked. “I thought that Elenna cared for Aldamir. But she was to wed someone else all along. I do not understand how she could deceive him so.”

Folding her hands in her lap, a distant look crossed over her face as if she were thinking about how to explain that someone had willfully hurt her son. “Legolas, your brother is an adult. His personal life is his own.” She sighed softly. “I do not know what reasons Elenna had for allowing Aldamir to believe she was free to spend time with him, but it is done now, and they will have to decide the course of action they will take. I think it is best if we do not add to their problems by speculating.”

“I am sorry, Naneth,” I said, feeling chastised for my initial desire to obtain information. I felt bad for Aldamir. “I do not mean to pry,” I said. But the truth was that I had meant to find out what was happening while I was tucked away in my chambers. Certainly, I would do nothing to harm Aldamir. And if Daeron was right, our job would be to prevent someone else from causing him further harm. If Aldamir was unaware that Calith was asking questions about him, then he could not deal with him. I could not tell him since he was gone with the warriors. Telling Naneth was out of the question; she would simply say to allow Aldamir to handle it.

Even though Aldamir has always been somewhat bossy, I did not like seeing him hurt. I remembered when Daeron and I were much younger; we were taken by a group of men who had come uninvited into the realm. Aldamir and Seregon came for us. Adar came too, later, after we had been rescued. But what I recall in those last moments of terror when a man held a knife to my throat was the one fell shot from Aldamir’s bow that brought the man down, and then, in the smallest of seconds, the feeling of being swept into the safety of his arms. I do not think I have ever felt so relieved or felt so safe in my life. I have often thought how I would have reacted to seeing someone hold a knife at Aldamir’s throat. I am not sure I could have stayed my hand enough to release my bolt. But Aldamir was steady and sure in his aim; he saved my life. On that night, Daeron and I saw our brothers as warriors for the first time. My view of them changed forever.

While Naneth had spoken the truth that Aldamir was an adult, he had also always seemed cautious around maidens. He danced in the community dances with elleths, and he had been known to eat or walk with one, but I had never known him to be as enamored as he was with Elenna. I could not imagine what he was thinking now. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me: Aldamir was shy! Not when he was commanding thousands of warriors, but when he was left to converse with a maiden, he became unusually reticent. I was surprised at myself that I had never noticed this before. Elenna was the first maiden with whom I had ever seen him let down his guard. I felt even worse for him when I considered how difficult it must have been for him to chance getting to know her. And I was angry, terribly angry with Elenna and her pretty Elf. They would not cause my brother any more harm.

Naneth was watching me intently, but when my attention shifted back to her, she smiled sadly. “I am sure your brother would be pleased that you are concerned for him, but this is best left for him to sort out.”

I said nothing, but my mind was already working on a plan to be certain that the pretty Elf and his beautiful betrothed would never cause problems again.

Sighing, Naneth stood. “Evening meal is not for several hours. Guilin wants you drink more of his broth while you are awake. Then, he says, you may eat a light meal if you feel strong enough.” She went to the door of my chambers and called a servant. I heard her send to the kitchen for the broth.

When she had settled back into her chair, she folded her hands in her lap and said, “And you will do as the healer says.”

A rush of heat flooded my face. “Yes, Naneth, I will.”

After the broth I dozed again until I was awakened by Adar, running his hand gently over my face. “Wake up, Legolas. Your meal is here. You do not want it to get cold.”

Blinking sleep from my eyes, I saw him sitting on the side of the bed. “Daeron has offered to sit with you while you eat. I have asked your naneth to join me in the dining room. She has been at your side with few respites since you came home. I think it will do her good to dine with the family. We will both be back as soon as the meal is over.”

“I am fine, Adar,” I yawned. “You and Naneth do not need to stay with me.”

Adar smiled. “You are much better, but I do not think I will win more than this minor skirmish with your naneth.” He leaned down and laid a kiss on my head. “In truth, I am not ready to leave you unattended yet either. You are still too weak.” He stood. “But soon. Perhaps in the next day or so.”

Fully awake at this point, I saw Daeron grinning at me from behind Adar. I smiled in return. He did not look distraught. The masters must not have been as angry as we had feared. Adar adjusted my covers and took me by the arm. “Let me help you sit.” Once I was arranged to his satisfaction, he placed the tray on my lap. “Do not attempt to get out of the bed without assistance. Daeron will either help you or call for aid.” Glancing at the tray, he gave his final command, “Eat all that you can and drink everything on your tray. Your naneth and I will be back in a short time.”

After Adar had gone, Daeron sat down in the chair and placed a tray on his lap. I had not noticed until then that he planned to eat his meal with me. I was pleased that I would not be eating alone. 

“Tell me,” I said. “What happened with the masters?”

Daeron shook his head in mock sorrow as he took up his fork and stabbed a honeyed carrot. “I am now the newest equipment buffer in the realm. For two weeks, I am to be responsible for the care and cleaning of all the practice equipment,” he announced. “An auspicious title, it is: The Sword Wiper.”

I laughed. “That is not too bad. What did the masters say to Belas and Alar?”

“Alar did not draw any punishment,” he said as put the carrot in his mouth. “But,” he said as he chewed, “the masters talked to him…privately. He did not say what all they discussed, but he did tell me that he told them that you were defending him, and that I struck Belas because he had hit you in an unfair advantage….while I was holding you in an attempt to separate you and Belas.”

I sighed. “I am sorry, Daeron. This is entirely my fault.”

Swinging his fork, he said, “It was worth it. Even though it hurt considerably when my fist hit the slug’s face, I think it hurt him worse. That alone was worth my new duties.”

“And Belas?” I asked.

“That is the best part,” Daeron grinned. “I am sorry to say that I was not present when the masters talked to him, but the news of his punishment carried like wildfire throughout the novices.”

“What?” I yelped.

“He is to clean the warrior’s stables for a month,” he said, smiling broadly. “And he is to spend two hours daily in your brother’s office instead of training in the afternoon.”

“They sentenced Aldamir!” I said.

“Not according to rumor,” he said. “The tale I heard is that Aldamir issued this decree. Belas’s warrior-calling hangs by the good grace of the commander. You forget that Aldamir was there when all this happened. I suspect he heard everything that Belas said. So, the commander is allowing Belas his personal tutorage. Belas will either shape up or he will be dismissed from the novices.”

My eyes felt wide as saucers. “I cannot believe this,” I said. “I have never known Aldamir to do such a thing. It is not like him to deal with the novices. He is usually very strict about the masters handling novice problems.”

The tray in Daeron’s lap rocked as he sawed through his roast. “But Belas was only a puff of breath from insurrection, and he is only months from taking his pledge to the king. I imagine Aldamir wants to know if Belas is trustworthy. If Belas does not please the commander, then Belas will be a former novice.” He chuckled. “And Belas was the one who wanted to weed out the mice from the ranks. He will get his opportunity to be a mouse.”

“I cannot believe this,” I repeated. “Now that I think about it,” I said, “I am surprised that the masters did not dismiss him for what he said. But I am even more surprised that Aldamir would take the time when he has so little to try and correct Belas.”

Daeron shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but the mouse is good with his weapons. If he can be reigned in, then Aldamir can always send him to the southern patrol. That would straighten him out in a hurry.”

“Belas does not know what special treatment he is getting,” I said. “If he does realize this, then it could take the wrong path; he will think he is so good that the commander would not allow anything to prevent him from becoming a warrior and took him under his wing to nurture his talent.”

Daeron snorted. “That is not likely. When Aldamir finishes with him, he is certain to feel special.”

I sighed heavily. “I hope you are right. Who knows how the truth will twist in Belas’s mind?”

Daeron smiled. “He is nervous as a mouse being targeted by a hawk,” he said. “You should have seen him this afternoon at training. Belas knows he stepped over the line, and he is worried now that he is fairly certain that Aldamir knows what he said. He is dumb, but not so dumb that he does not know that he is not being honored by this assignment.” Daeron scrapped up the last of his potatoes. “I am rather enjoying this.”

“I do not suppose the master said anything about my punishment?” I asked.

Daeron shook his head. “All they said to me about you was to inquire from me what happened.”

My heart sank. “I threw the first punch,” I moaned. “My luck, I will be serving along side Belas in Aldamir’s office.”

“I do not think so,” he said. “Belas is not going to Aldamir’s office because of the fight, but because of what he said. I suspect that you will receive similar punishment as mine. You just got in a fight; you did not call the commander a fool.”

“Not to his face,” I smiled. “And then, just as my brother, not as my future commander.”

“I do not think you will be in any more trouble than I am,” he said. “And I was captain that day. I did hear about my responsibilities on that subject, but the masters were all fair and understanding.  I should not have hit Belas. But I can not exactly say that I am sorry that I did. But now that I have gotten my desire to crush him out of my system, I will not let it happen again.”

I leaned my head back against the headboard and closed my eyes. A deep weariness pulled at me. Physically, I was tired, but the mental pictures I brought to mind were the ones that exhausted me. Still to come, I would have to face the masters, face Aldamir and I would be responsible for telling Adar and Naneth that I had been disciplined by the masters. “Has Adar said anything to you?” I asked.

“No,” Daeron said. “You have kindly kept him occupied.  I hope you are not planning on getting better any time soon.”

My eyes snapped open. “That reminds me. We have plans to make. Have you seen the pretty Elf?”

“No time,” he said. “What do you have in mind?”

“A few things, but mainly, as soon as I can leave this bed, we will follow him and see what he is up to,” I said.

“I do not know how we will have time,” he said. “I will be delayed with the equipment for at least an hour after training everyday.”

“After evening meal,” I said. “The light lingers this time of year and we will still have time to see what he does during the evening.” I lifted my head to see him better. “And we can ask others what they know about him. Casually, of course.”

“How casual will it look when this Elf is the one who caused the break between your brother and a maiden?” he said.

“Just in general conversation,” I said, “we can bring him up. No one will think anything of our inquiries.”

“Possibly,” Daeron said, his head tilted in thought. “We will have to be careful.”

I smiled. “We will be.”

Daeron put aside his tray and then pointed to mine. “You had best eat before you parents return. I will be dismissed from my job as your minder, and we will not have time to plan this.”

Taking up my spoon, I dipped into the new bowl of broth I had been sent. “That Elf is up to something; I know he is,” I said as I tasted the salty, herbal brew. “And we will find out what it is.”

Daeron smiled. “He is not nearly good enough to escape our net.”