Flare in the Darkness: Holwena Talnrë of Rothalon

Chapter One: Failing Defence

Morning lay over Serndol.

Across the towers of the city, the green blur of forest in the north, and the southward mountains stern and grey fell the warm rays, casting dim shadows that quivered with the nearness of the light. The breathless, featherweight air of early summer caressed the tall masts riding the shimmering waters of Sern Hator, Mighty River. The wind was fickle, gusting from every direction at sporadic intervals. Roughly it batted at the pinnacle of the great stone palace, hissed along the ramparts and trickled in past the open gate, blowing the dark hair of the girl who ran lightly down the keep steps, so that it streamed behind her like a banner.

To the outer defence it chased her and blew in her face as she ascended to the top, rippling her skirts; and they too fluttered out like a second pennant, white and clear. As she gained the walkway and looked out over the city, the sun touched her head and struck brilliance from it, revealing the gems that bound her brow and marked her for who she was: Holwena, princess of Rothalon.

"Why does my sister stand so still? Has a legaeësse cursed her to stone, that she lingers fair and silent on the battlements?"

"Corhin!" Holwena turned and shaded her eyes to look up at the tall figure behind her clad in half-armour. A soft cleft of reproof flickered between her bright, dark eyes. "Do not speak lightly of the legaeësse. 'Tis not a small thing to be cursed by one, as you would soon find were it to happen to you."

He laughed. "Well are you named Wise Maiden. A lass not yet sixteen and counseling her elders like a matriarch of years."

"I counsel where it is needed, my brother." She made teasingly as though to cuff him. "But never mind it, Corhin. I am glad to see you happy."

"Aye, there is little enough to smile about these days," he muttered, the jest leaving his face. His hand clenched into a fist as he stared out to the north and east.

Holwena followed his gaze wordlessly. After a time she dropped her eyes and turned resolutely away, looking towards the tower high and stalwart against the sky.

"Why do you look to that?" came Corhin's voice harshly behind her. "It will not keep out the ugthoda."

The words lay between them like a thrown knife.

"It goes ill, then, at the border?" she asked softly, facing him again. "I wondered when I saw you why you had come back so soon."

He looked away and down, resting his hand on the stone before them. "Every day there is death. So many die... and aye, we hold them back, but sister, the cost! Holwena, both Lord Galdeol's sons are no more."

"Huras and Lathsan both?" she gasped, staring at him aghast.

"They fell by the hand of the foul captain of the ugthoda himself." The lineaments of Corhin's face tensed and trembled as he struggled to contain his anger. "Madiz, he calls himself. I swear this day, Holwena, when I am king I will rid our land of this scourge if I must do it with my life."

~

"We must drive them back." Corhin gripped the council table with his hands, his young brow dark and impassioned. "We must summon all our strength and force them out of the land! Our pitiful defence is gaining us nothing – their numbers are too vast. They will breach it in the end, and what then? It will be a slow, miserable retreat before the face of the enemy while they pillage our cities and slay our people, until we are backed up into this very stronghold, where we may make a last and bitter stand before the name of Rothalon is blotted off the face of the earth."

Haldorin King stood slowly and spoke, his voice deep and tired. "Your ignorance of strategy ill becomes you, Corhin. Desperate though the situation may be – and it is not so desperate, not yet – it does not call for such measures. 'Tis simply not practical to send out our entire army onto one front. We are too far from the battle here to muster what you would desire and march them to the enemy before they see our movements and strike in all the places we have left unprotected. Be seated, my son," he ended gently in an endeavour to soften the rebuke.