[Eight part of the Tale of Redbird. Gosh, this is almost becoming a proper story. Link on the right will take you to the other parts! Enjoy!]
Redbird spent most of her first few hours in Faelen sleeping. She eventually woke up, after much of the day and some of the night had passed, only because a distinctly irritated Ariel was shaking her awake with a strength that was belied by her slender frame. She looked so much like a thunder-cloud as she did so that Redbird felt prompted to ask whether she had done something else wrong.
"Not at all," said Ariel, grinding her teeth a little. "I have been talking to the princes and convincing them of your suitability as a mentor."
Redbird could but dimly imagine the amount of violence that such persuasions must have necessitated and she jumped out of the bed quickly, not wishing to antagonize the elven lady further. However, this was not the wisest thing she could have done under the circumstanc,es, as the elves who had led her to her bed had also taken the liberty of dressing her in a flowing, floating rose-coloured dress. So far, she had tripped over their beautiful gift no less than thirty times.
From her sprawled position on the floor, she looked up at her hostess with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances.
"What are we going to do now?" she asked.
"We are going to visit the Hoards," said Ariel.
Ariel led Redbird briskly through the underground passages of Faelen, ignoring the bemused stares the citizens of the elven city turned on them. During their journey, she pointed out some of the architectural details of Faelen, for Redbird's instruction and amusement.
High up in the mountain, said Ariel, near the summit, the elves had created a small, perfectly circular opening that admitted light from the outside, and this was surrounded by an ever widening spiral of flat crystals, so that the walls of Faelen bore a fantastical, distorted reflection of the world outside. At night the crystals were dark and Faelen was lit by the flickering lanterns Redbird had noticed on her coming, but during the daytime, if the day was sunny, the walls of Faelen were covered in rainbows.
Down they went into the mountain, until the lanterns in the walls flickered and grew dimmer, and the air became stale and heavy. At last, they stopped before an oaken door that was six times the height of Redbird and as broad as it was long. Seizing a frog-shaped knocker that was set in the middle of this imposing edifice, Ariel beat an imperious summons on the door.
After what seemed like an age, a panel creaked open in the oaken structure, and a pair of strikingly green eyes peered out.
"Who is it?" a deep voice rasped.
"It is I, Ariel, daughter of Nayinera, Keeper of the Seven Diamonds," said Ariel, imperiously. "I bring with me Redbird, daughter of Eleanor, Keeper of the Carrot-Patch."
Redbird sighed and cursed the impulse that had prompted her on that fateful day, so long ago, to invent the title that now seemed likely to follow her about for her lifetime. The green eyes swiveled to her face and stared for what seemed like an eternity.
"Why would you bring a human into the vaults, daughter of Nayinera?" asked the voice, while the eyes that presumably belonged to it continued to bore into Redbird. "We know their greed, and we know their weakness. We would not expose them to temptation."
"She is to mentor the young princes on their quest," said Ariel, "I desire her to be given a weapon."
"Is she armed?" asked the voice.
"She has two, as you can see," said Ariel, a little tartly, Redbird suspected that the elf was growing as impatient as she with the hesitation of the door-keeper. "Besides those she carries no weapon."
The voice on the other side of the door said nothing, but a tiny door swung open in its larger parent, barely of the size to admit a big dog. Redbird looked at it, and then at Ariel. She could not, by any stretch of imagination, imagine the elf crawling on her hands and knees through the small opening.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"I am not," said Ariel, quietly. "The only assistance I can give you at this part of your quest is to get you inside the Hoards, the rest you must do yourself. Use every ounce of your cunning to convince Selwyn to give you a weapon, but do not leave until this is accomplished."
Redbird gulped. "What is he?" she asked.
"One of the few remaining members of an old and dying race," said Ariel, "Be careful, and do not anger him. The fact that you are my friend will weigh little with him should he decide to kill you."
Much cheered by this encouraging information, Redbird dropped to all fours, and squeezed with difficulty through the hole that had been opened for her in the door, grateful for once in her life that she was so small.
She had expected to see piles of gleaming treasure on the other side of the door, rare, beautiful artifacts and wealth beyond her wildest dreams. She was to be disappointed. She was in a small and unimpressive room, and beyond it Redbird could see an even larger door than the one that she had just entered.
The room had been decorated minimally- its only furniture consisted of a tall wooden table, elegantly and beautifully carved, with several crudely hewn chairs, also wooden, set around it. A fire blazed in a rock fireplace near the table and, by the light of its flickering flames, Redbird saw that there was a man sitting in one of the chairs, deep in the shadows of the room.
As Redbird looked more closely at Selwyn, she realized that the word 'man' was a very loose description for him. He was huge, nearly seven feet at least. He looked like a rather small giant more than a man. His eyes were the wide, piercing green pair that Redbird had seen through the door, and most of his body was covered in thick, long, shaggy, brown hair. His face vaguely resembled a cat's, and, indeed, he had all the sly grace and subtle power of a feline as he reclined in his chair and observed her unblinkingly.
"Hello," said Redbird, nervously.
The effect this produced on him was even more discouraging than the effect the greeting had produced on the elves. He said nothing, but continued watching her.
"I'm Redbird," said Redbird, following the formula her mother had taught her which, she claimed, never failed to put the surliest stranger at his ease instantly. "This is a lovely room. What is your name, sir?"
"Ariel has already told you my name," rumbled the creature. "I am Selwyn."
"And if you don't mind me asking, sir," said Redbird, deviating slightly from Eleanor's prescribed method. "What exactly are you?"
Selwyn stared at her for several more minutes before he finally answered. "Humans are ignorant," he said, and there was a slight growl in his voice, "Their memories are as short as their lifetimes, and they live for only moments. It has not been more than three thousand years since my kind mingled freely with yours, yet you have already forgotten us."
Redbird felt that she must say something. "Sorry," she muttered.
"It is no matter," said Selwyn, sadly, "Soon we shall be gone, and there is no point in remembering something that no longer exists."
He lapsed into silence again and Redbird, feeling that this conversation would take a while, took the liberty of seating herself without invitation. She went to one of the chairs around the table and tried to get on it, however, as the seat of the chair was at a level with her chest, this took some hopping to accomplish.
"Tell me, human," rumbled Selwyn, who had watched her endeavours curiously. "Is your race shrinking? The Mud Treaders that live in my mind are of much larger size. Has the passage of time distorted my memory, or has it made your people smaller?"
"I don't know if we're shrinking," said Redbird. "Mikael, my elder brother, is much taller than mother, and she's a good six inches taller than me."
"Then you are a freak of your kind?" asked Selwyn, without malice.
Redbird divined correctly that this question was not meant to be offensive and agreed affably.
"But you have not yet told me what you are," she said.
Selwyn sighed again, growing more melancholy by the second. "We are the gold seekers," he said, finally, "We are the door-keepers. We are sharp of fang and claw and no one dares challenge us lightly. We are watchful and quiet, but we are also fierce when the time calls for fierceness. In a word, we are Meerows."
"It's very nice to meet you," said Redbird.
The green orbs of light that were Selwyn's eyes flared in the darkness and were hooded again, just as quickly.
"Tell me, human," said Selwyn. "Why does Lady Ariel wish you to mentor the princes? Are you strong?"
"I am not," answered Redbird, slightly afraid that he would challenge her to a duel if she said yes.
"Then are you swift? Are you powerful?"
"Not particularly," said Redbird.
Selwyn was practically chattering now, compared to his previous silence.
"Then you must be cunning, like a little snake," he said, "I will ask you a riddle, and if you can answer it, I will deem you worthy to receive a weapon."
"Very well," said Redbird, seeing that she had no choice.
"This is the riddle," said Selwyn, and his eyes watched her as hungrily as a cat watches a mouse.
"Who is small and generally despised?
And when he blinks, still shows his eyes?
Who remains on land but is never dry?
And does not walk but tries to fly?"
Redbird thought carefully, resting her head on her arms and staring into the fire. She knew the trick of guessing riddles, that the point was not to meditate on any one part of it, but consider the riddle in its entirety to come to a conclusion. After a while she began to smile and then she began to laugh.
"Is it a frog?" she asked, thinking of the knocker.
There was no way of guessing for certain what Selwyn was feeling, but Redbird chose to interpret his expression as a smile.
"Very well," said Selwyn, a little less gloomily than before. "Wait here."
He headed to the second door set in the opposite wall, with many furtive glances at Redbird as though to check whether she was following. All of a sudden, he disappeared. Redbird was still engaged in guessing how he had managed it, when, just as suddenly, he reappeared, bearing an axe that was nearly as long as she was.
"Try this," he said, handing it to her.
Although Redbird confidently predicted that she would not even be able to lift the giant weapon, it was surprisingly light, and she swung it about quite easily. It was too tall for her though, she wielded it clumsily.
"Apparently not," said Selwyn, watching her tentative swings of the axe. "Perhaps I should have asked you first what sort of weapon you prefer to fight with."
"I don't fight," said Redbird honestly. "I don't like killing things. But if I had to pick, I would say a sword."
"Why?"
"Because I can't aim well enough to fire a bow, and axes are too heavy for me to use."
Selwyn made an indifferent grunting noise and padded back the way he had come. Although Redbird watched more closely this time, she still failed to notice how he managed to vanish into thin air as he reached the door. In a very short time, he reappeared, this time bearing a thin, long sword.
"This is Helena, the Rose-Thorn," he said, "Wielded by the dwarf king Glamir, and slayer of the water-demon Borg."
Redbird extended her hand to take it, but no sooner had she grasped the hilt than Selwyn snatched the sword away again.
"No, no, no," he said, scowling ferociously. "All wrong. Wait here."
He retreated quickly, and this time was gone for several minutes. Redbird took the opportunity to go to the door and examine it, running her fingers over its wood to check for any grooves that would open a secret entrance. She nearly ran her hand over Selwyn's stomach as he appeared suddenly on the other side.
A feral growl escaped him that caused her to retreat hurriedly. "Were you trying to get into the Hoards?" he asked, pupils dilating till they were mere slits.
"Not at all," said Redbird hastily, "Just admiring the woodwork."
Amazingly, Selwyn accepted this and even seemed pleased by it. "I am one of those who carved it," he said.
He brought out his hands from behind his back. At first Redbird thought he held nothing, but, as she looked more closely, she saw that two black daggers lay in his gigantic palms, enclosed in black sheaths that bore the design of golden vines.
"In my language," said Selwyn, "These are known as-" he pronounced two strangled miaows, "Translated into your langauge, they are named 'Swift' and 'Sharp'."
He brooded over them for a while, and Redbird thought she saw a glimmer of tears shine in his brilliant eyes. "They belonged to my litter-mate once," he said softly, "My little sister, Nefrata. She was also very small, almost as small as you. And she did not like- killing things- either."
Redbird reached out her hands for one of the daggers. Its hilt fit into her palm as though it had been made according to the curve of her hand. She unsheathed it, and saw the reflection of her face in its gleaming steel.
"These are the ones for you," said Selwyn, "You must take both, they are meant to be wielded together. They are small, but they are very sharp."
"Thank you very much," said Redbird, "I will return them when I come back."
Selwyn shook his shaggy head quickly. "They are for you to keep," he said, his large, pointed ears drooping.
Redbird was filled with an irresistible urge to stroke and comfort Selwyn as she would a folorn tabby-cat. She raised her hand to his furry shoulder, which she could just reach, and rubbed it gently.
Selwyn bared his teeth and growled deep in his throat and she withdrew her hand hastily.
"How dared you, human!" he snarled, "I am not a pussy-cat for you to pet!"
Redbird wondered whether it would be unfeeling to use Swift, which she still held in her hand, to stab Selwyn, should he attack her.
"I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I just thought- you looked sad and I wanted to make you feel better."
To her surprise, his rage subsided as swiftly as it had come. Coming towards her with a rather shamed face, he knelt to the ground before her, so that his head was on a level with hers.
"Could you scratch my head between my ears?" he asked, gruffly.
Twenty minutes later, Redbird left a practically purring Selwyn with the solemn promise that she would never mention what had occurred to another living soul. Accompanied by Swift and Sharp, she crawled through the hole in the door, to where Lady Ariel waited on the other side.
Redbird spent most of her first few hours in Faelen sleeping. She eventually woke up, after much of the day and some of the night had passed, only because a distinctly irritated Ariel was shaking her awake with a strength that was belied by her slender frame. She looked so much like a thunder-cloud as she did so that Redbird felt prompted to ask whether she had done something else wrong.
"Not at all," said Ariel, grinding her teeth a little. "I have been talking to the princes and convincing them of your suitability as a mentor."
Redbird could but dimly imagine the amount of violence that such persuasions must have necessitated and she jumped out of the bed quickly, not wishing to antagonize the elven lady further. However, this was not the wisest thing she could have done under the circumstanc,es, as the elves who had led her to her bed had also taken the liberty of dressing her in a flowing, floating rose-coloured dress. So far, she had tripped over their beautiful gift no less than thirty times.
From her sprawled position on the floor, she looked up at her hostess with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances.
"What are we going to do now?" she asked.
"We are going to visit the Hoards," said Ariel.
Ariel led Redbird briskly through the underground passages of Faelen, ignoring the bemused stares the citizens of the elven city turned on them. During their journey, she pointed out some of the architectural details of Faelen, for Redbird's instruction and amusement.
High up in the mountain, said Ariel, near the summit, the elves had created a small, perfectly circular opening that admitted light from the outside, and this was surrounded by an ever widening spiral of flat crystals, so that the walls of Faelen bore a fantastical, distorted reflection of the world outside. At night the crystals were dark and Faelen was lit by the flickering lanterns Redbird had noticed on her coming, but during the daytime, if the day was sunny, the walls of Faelen were covered in rainbows.
Down they went into the mountain, until the lanterns in the walls flickered and grew dimmer, and the air became stale and heavy. At last, they stopped before an oaken door that was six times the height of Redbird and as broad as it was long. Seizing a frog-shaped knocker that was set in the middle of this imposing edifice, Ariel beat an imperious summons on the door.
After what seemed like an age, a panel creaked open in the oaken structure, and a pair of strikingly green eyes peered out.
"Who is it?" a deep voice rasped.
"It is I, Ariel, daughter of Nayinera, Keeper of the Seven Diamonds," said Ariel, imperiously. "I bring with me Redbird, daughter of Eleanor, Keeper of the Carrot-Patch."
Redbird sighed and cursed the impulse that had prompted her on that fateful day, so long ago, to invent the title that now seemed likely to follow her about for her lifetime. The green eyes swiveled to her face and stared for what seemed like an eternity.
"Why would you bring a human into the vaults, daughter of Nayinera?" asked the voice, while the eyes that presumably belonged to it continued to bore into Redbird. "We know their greed, and we know their weakness. We would not expose them to temptation."
"She is to mentor the young princes on their quest," said Ariel, "I desire her to be given a weapon."
"Is she armed?" asked the voice.
"She has two, as you can see," said Ariel, a little tartly, Redbird suspected that the elf was growing as impatient as she with the hesitation of the door-keeper. "Besides those she carries no weapon."
The voice on the other side of the door said nothing, but a tiny door swung open in its larger parent, barely of the size to admit a big dog. Redbird looked at it, and then at Ariel. She could not, by any stretch of imagination, imagine the elf crawling on her hands and knees through the small opening.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"I am not," said Ariel, quietly. "The only assistance I can give you at this part of your quest is to get you inside the Hoards, the rest you must do yourself. Use every ounce of your cunning to convince Selwyn to give you a weapon, but do not leave until this is accomplished."
Redbird gulped. "What is he?" she asked.
"One of the few remaining members of an old and dying race," said Ariel, "Be careful, and do not anger him. The fact that you are my friend will weigh little with him should he decide to kill you."
Much cheered by this encouraging information, Redbird dropped to all fours, and squeezed with difficulty through the hole that had been opened for her in the door, grateful for once in her life that she was so small.
She had expected to see piles of gleaming treasure on the other side of the door, rare, beautiful artifacts and wealth beyond her wildest dreams. She was to be disappointed. She was in a small and unimpressive room, and beyond it Redbird could see an even larger door than the one that she had just entered.
The room had been decorated minimally- its only furniture consisted of a tall wooden table, elegantly and beautifully carved, with several crudely hewn chairs, also wooden, set around it. A fire blazed in a rock fireplace near the table and, by the light of its flickering flames, Redbird saw that there was a man sitting in one of the chairs, deep in the shadows of the room.
As Redbird looked more closely at Selwyn, she realized that the word 'man' was a very loose description for him. He was huge, nearly seven feet at least. He looked like a rather small giant more than a man. His eyes were the wide, piercing green pair that Redbird had seen through the door, and most of his body was covered in thick, long, shaggy, brown hair. His face vaguely resembled a cat's, and, indeed, he had all the sly grace and subtle power of a feline as he reclined in his chair and observed her unblinkingly.
"Hello," said Redbird, nervously.
The effect this produced on him was even more discouraging than the effect the greeting had produced on the elves. He said nothing, but continued watching her.
"I'm Redbird," said Redbird, following the formula her mother had taught her which, she claimed, never failed to put the surliest stranger at his ease instantly. "This is a lovely room. What is your name, sir?"
"Ariel has already told you my name," rumbled the creature. "I am Selwyn."
"And if you don't mind me asking, sir," said Redbird, deviating slightly from Eleanor's prescribed method. "What exactly are you?"
Selwyn stared at her for several more minutes before he finally answered. "Humans are ignorant," he said, and there was a slight growl in his voice, "Their memories are as short as their lifetimes, and they live for only moments. It has not been more than three thousand years since my kind mingled freely with yours, yet you have already forgotten us."
Redbird felt that she must say something. "Sorry," she muttered.
"It is no matter," said Selwyn, sadly, "Soon we shall be gone, and there is no point in remembering something that no longer exists."
He lapsed into silence again and Redbird, feeling that this conversation would take a while, took the liberty of seating herself without invitation. She went to one of the chairs around the table and tried to get on it, however, as the seat of the chair was at a level with her chest, this took some hopping to accomplish.
"Tell me, human," rumbled Selwyn, who had watched her endeavours curiously. "Is your race shrinking? The Mud Treaders that live in my mind are of much larger size. Has the passage of time distorted my memory, or has it made your people smaller?"
"I don't know if we're shrinking," said Redbird. "Mikael, my elder brother, is much taller than mother, and she's a good six inches taller than me."
"Then you are a freak of your kind?" asked Selwyn, without malice.
Redbird divined correctly that this question was not meant to be offensive and agreed affably.
"But you have not yet told me what you are," she said.
Selwyn sighed again, growing more melancholy by the second. "We are the gold seekers," he said, finally, "We are the door-keepers. We are sharp of fang and claw and no one dares challenge us lightly. We are watchful and quiet, but we are also fierce when the time calls for fierceness. In a word, we are Meerows."
"It's very nice to meet you," said Redbird.
The green orbs of light that were Selwyn's eyes flared in the darkness and were hooded again, just as quickly.
"Tell me, human," said Selwyn. "Why does Lady Ariel wish you to mentor the princes? Are you strong?"
"I am not," answered Redbird, slightly afraid that he would challenge her to a duel if she said yes.
"Then are you swift? Are you powerful?"
"Not particularly," said Redbird.
Selwyn was practically chattering now, compared to his previous silence.
"Then you must be cunning, like a little snake," he said, "I will ask you a riddle, and if you can answer it, I will deem you worthy to receive a weapon."
"Very well," said Redbird, seeing that she had no choice.
"This is the riddle," said Selwyn, and his eyes watched her as hungrily as a cat watches a mouse.
"Who is small and generally despised?
And when he blinks, still shows his eyes?
Who remains on land but is never dry?
And does not walk but tries to fly?"
Redbird thought carefully, resting her head on her arms and staring into the fire. She knew the trick of guessing riddles, that the point was not to meditate on any one part of it, but consider the riddle in its entirety to come to a conclusion. After a while she began to smile and then she began to laugh.
"Is it a frog?" she asked, thinking of the knocker.
There was no way of guessing for certain what Selwyn was feeling, but Redbird chose to interpret his expression as a smile.
"Very well," said Selwyn, a little less gloomily than before. "Wait here."
He headed to the second door set in the opposite wall, with many furtive glances at Redbird as though to check whether she was following. All of a sudden, he disappeared. Redbird was still engaged in guessing how he had managed it, when, just as suddenly, he reappeared, bearing an axe that was nearly as long as she was.
"Try this," he said, handing it to her.
Although Redbird confidently predicted that she would not even be able to lift the giant weapon, it was surprisingly light, and she swung it about quite easily. It was too tall for her though, she wielded it clumsily.
"Apparently not," said Selwyn, watching her tentative swings of the axe. "Perhaps I should have asked you first what sort of weapon you prefer to fight with."
"I don't fight," said Redbird honestly. "I don't like killing things. But if I had to pick, I would say a sword."
"Why?"
"Because I can't aim well enough to fire a bow, and axes are too heavy for me to use."
Selwyn made an indifferent grunting noise and padded back the way he had come. Although Redbird watched more closely this time, she still failed to notice how he managed to vanish into thin air as he reached the door. In a very short time, he reappeared, this time bearing a thin, long sword.
"This is Helena, the Rose-Thorn," he said, "Wielded by the dwarf king Glamir, and slayer of the water-demon Borg."
Redbird extended her hand to take it, but no sooner had she grasped the hilt than Selwyn snatched the sword away again.
"No, no, no," he said, scowling ferociously. "All wrong. Wait here."
He retreated quickly, and this time was gone for several minutes. Redbird took the opportunity to go to the door and examine it, running her fingers over its wood to check for any grooves that would open a secret entrance. She nearly ran her hand over Selwyn's stomach as he appeared suddenly on the other side.
A feral growl escaped him that caused her to retreat hurriedly. "Were you trying to get into the Hoards?" he asked, pupils dilating till they were mere slits.
"Not at all," said Redbird hastily, "Just admiring the woodwork."
Amazingly, Selwyn accepted this and even seemed pleased by it. "I am one of those who carved it," he said.
He brought out his hands from behind his back. At first Redbird thought he held nothing, but, as she looked more closely, she saw that two black daggers lay in his gigantic palms, enclosed in black sheaths that bore the design of golden vines.
"In my language," said Selwyn, "These are known as-" he pronounced two strangled miaows, "Translated into your langauge, they are named 'Swift' and 'Sharp'."
He brooded over them for a while, and Redbird thought she saw a glimmer of tears shine in his brilliant eyes. "They belonged to my litter-mate once," he said softly, "My little sister, Nefrata. She was also very small, almost as small as you. And she did not like- killing things- either."
Redbird reached out her hands for one of the daggers. Its hilt fit into her palm as though it had been made according to the curve of her hand. She unsheathed it, and saw the reflection of her face in its gleaming steel.
"These are the ones for you," said Selwyn, "You must take both, they are meant to be wielded together. They are small, but they are very sharp."
"Thank you very much," said Redbird, "I will return them when I come back."
Selwyn shook his shaggy head quickly. "They are for you to keep," he said, his large, pointed ears drooping.
Redbird was filled with an irresistible urge to stroke and comfort Selwyn as she would a folorn tabby-cat. She raised her hand to his furry shoulder, which she could just reach, and rubbed it gently.
Selwyn bared his teeth and growled deep in his throat and she withdrew her hand hastily.
"How dared you, human!" he snarled, "I am not a pussy-cat for you to pet!"
Redbird wondered whether it would be unfeeling to use Swift, which she still held in her hand, to stab Selwyn, should he attack her.
"I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I just thought- you looked sad and I wanted to make you feel better."
To her surprise, his rage subsided as swiftly as it had come. Coming towards her with a rather shamed face, he knelt to the ground before her, so that his head was on a level with hers.
"Could you scratch my head between my ears?" he asked, gruffly.
Twenty minutes later, Redbird left a practically purring Selwyn with the solemn promise that she would never mention what had occurred to another living soul. Accompanied by Swift and Sharp, she crawled through the hole in the door, to where Lady Ariel waited on the other side.
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