A Castrovel Adventure: Part 3, Chapter 37

In which Vaeol learns the doom that befell the Dale of Amaea

From they Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil u’Zhasaele Zolaemaue be’Son

14. Vealae, 24,542 - Dale of Amaea (27th day afetch)
Our day started warily, for our path led us into the gulch-network, a befuddling maze of shaftlike crags rising from the dale’s floor, and split by streams swollen with Floodtide. So we had to heedfully pick our way, lest warriors or Shota lose foot. Also, warned Tolamad, hunters love to prowl these gulch-paths, skyfishers and coeurl, who behoove the craggy heights and whelming mist. All kept a keen eye overhead.
Against our wariness, I witted that Kazos had become dolefully spooked. Here was the furthest he had ever come into the Dale, for his clan had ere stolen along the eastern edge. He shrove they had always bedeemed it Elf-haunted, and therefore plighty. Yet now, on learning that the Moqeva had made it their last fastness, its fear has grown in his mind. Even the Elves as leads do not asoothe enough.
Today also yielded our first sight of Father-Yaro, when we came to the gulch-field’s northern end. At first a low roar underheld the cliffs. Then we saw a mighty whitewater rush overwhelming stones and pools, churning out of its bed. Its endless spray makes the mist that wafts outward to fill the gulches and hide the river from the Dale’s heights. We followed a path above the floodside until we reached a ford-thwart: a true stone bridge, much like the one whereover sits Noruma, but narrower, and without the wall-rails such as wrought over Qabarat’s Seaharborgate. To reach it, we had to climb upward again to the cliff-shoulder whence it grows and leaps over the rush. We found it a dizzying crossroad, barely wider than a treepath, and a taller fall. I looked over the edge, down at Father-Yaro’s wrathful whiteness and the sharp stones against which he wars, ere I overthought better.
We camp tonight on the far eastern side, atop a crag much like yesternight’s. In news, however, we have guests: Elves whose clanhold stands nearby. Tolamad, whose kin they are, bewared their intread and bade us stand down while we spoke. Bywardly they came into our hearthlight uplookfully, for they have erenever known peace with Lashunta. Semuane and I greeted them so kindly as we could while Tolamad and Mearthil gave our tale. They have ataken the truce and will let us by, though they will not show us their home, and will also bring some foodstocks ere morntide. When Tolamad asked, they told the Dale’s northeastern heights, where we go, have been waiting still, with nothing stirring, and no word overcoming.

15. Vealae - Dale of Amaea (28th day afetch)
Today we reached a mountain’s foot. Tolamad waved upward, bemeaning our goal lay upward. We had reached Ta-Anossu.
With raintide’s downpour we swiftly found Father-Yaro’s birthstream and a rough path leading upward. Also, I witted spoor of an elder stairway, crumbled and mossy, but still there, and odd stones beside the streambed, which behinted statues long worn. I reminded the Sage-Queens had once built a shrine, and we now trod upon their steps. Time has proven unkindly to their heirloomhood.
About noontide, the stream led up to a grove, by whose trees’ girth I reckoned had easily grown here for the better half of ten thousand yearss, which means they have sprouted after the Sage-Queens forsook this stead. My thought proved right when we introd, at odd wreckmarks stuck within the roots: shafts and stony shards off what could be graven stonelikenesses. Then we came to a great stony hummock, which belooked crushed between four great trees that overstood, and whose roots ran through. Two stone shaftstumps even stood at the fore and upheld a shard of broken roof, making a door-like gap, whence gushed a spring.
I shrive my heedfulness got the better of good deemship. I cast a witchlight and crawled into the spring’s wrecked doorway. My legs chilled in the spring’s flood, and roots dangled slimily. Yet I forbore inward, even against Kaure’s warning, until my light shone on something at the burrow’s back, and the sight halted me.
A stone eye stared blindly, great as my whole head, above a nose once nobly carven, but now shattered. After my shock, I witted a carven face, whether alone or once share of a full-body stonelikeness I could not tell. Yet by the great beard wrought to seem flowing downward and by what Tolamad had told, I knew at once this was Father-Yaro. His shrine and likeness were long fallen. Yet His true self, the river that springs from this stead, lives forever. I sang Him a prayer. Then I withdrew even while my numb legs shivered.
Another thing I witted stuck with me: the great eye staring had a gash chiseled through. I know enough stonecraft from my father to understand this stroke was willful. No wildness or worldly strength from fall or wear could make such a blow. Someone had tokenly blinded Father-Yaro, even in useless beck.
I asked Tolamad what had befallen this stead when his folk had come to the Dale. He told this shrine was already fallen, though the grove’s trees had been fewer. He also added that many trees at that time had also stood dead, though eyesomely now most within the grove have stood alive. That thought berecked me, and I overlooked the trees looming. At a such a temple-stead, I would forelook ~Eazue~ milk-trees. I found none, even when I sought further outward. Instead, all are ~Kovau~, the sly, deadly tree that yields some of the sweetest berries in the rainwood, but whose seeds slay their eater and sprout from the rotting body.
A fearsome thought overtook me: a nightmare of a plighty, ill-meaning soul. Tolamad had spoken of dead trees once overhosting this fallen temple. Had they been milk-trees that had been slain? Then had someone sown ~Kovau~ throughout this grove, so that the only food harvested would be poison? Had some dreadful mind crafted to wither all worthiness we Lashunta hold dear, even while they had slyly befouled our kind who had ere dwelled here, until they became the mistwisted things the Elves had found?
I led us from the grove, for I did not wish the Shota or anyone else to mishapfully eat any ~Kovau~ berries and undergo such a dreadful death. We found another grove further along the path to our goal, wherein we hung our tents.

16. Vealae - Dale of Amaea (29th day afetch the Barrow
Our dayfare has brought us to the Dale’s northeastern heights, where we have reached our goal. Under a crag waits a narrow, mossy glen, and at its head a short cleft into the bergside. Had Tolamad and Kazos not outbeckoned, we might never find it. Once seen, however, it outstands like an qualm-scar within the cliff, at which I cannot withhold stare.
Upon the cleft’s sight, a queer mood overtook Kazos. His ereward boldness has faded at knowledge of the barrow’s elder dwellers. He hardly believes he had earlier introd and outsought, and so mishaplessly. I think he now wonders on what he witlessly upcame, and what forgotten foulness he might have betrodden.
After we scouted the neighborland for any threat or spoor (in which Kazos and Damyane showed the path over the high ridge toward their clan’s homeland), we came down to the glen and overlooked the cleft. The stony ground held no hint of footmarks. Keenly I reckoned the burrow's mouth, trying to foreread what lurks within.
Tonight we camp afar the cleft and over the glen, where a grove shelters. Kaure is weeping, for I told she should not come with us inside tomorrow but will stay with Damyane and the shieldbearers. I need her to watch the Shotalashu. Also, I feel her fear. I need fell, doughty warriors tomorrow, and who will keep their head under the fey darkness. Hatefully I shrive this, but my beloved maidenmate is unready.
Erenow, I came from minding Ess among the Shota pack, and found Oshis and Damyane talking, and in a wise overfriendly. I bade him back to the campstead. Then I told her that my flag follows war-law while afetch, and thus I would deem it a boon if she would not offsway my flagmate. She left peacefully, if with less than goodwill. Yet the deedtide has bethought me. I remind her mother Eieli’s word at the trucemoot that, on becoming a wife, Damyane will become the Sholasa’s clanwife. I wit these clanfolk do not follow such stern wonts as we Cityborn. To my best knowledge, her clan will deem her a wife when she bears a child.