Fallen Embers (The Alterra Histories) Read Online Free PDF Page B

open. This wasn’t unusual, as Elves often “slept” with their eyes open, but even from a distance, Gaelen could tell that this one wasn’t breathing. Dead, then? Dead but not decayed? There is some magic at work here.
    Ordath placed her hand on the vault again, and Gaelen read the sorrow in her eyes. This was a very private meditation, one that must not suffer intrusion. Gaelen crept back into the shadows from whence she had come. Only much later would she realize that she had been one of the very few to set eyes on the empty, soulless body of the mighty Shandor, founder of Mountain-home, most forlorn of the ancient bringers of Light.

    The following evening, all were invited to a feast in the house of Ordath, and it was to be a memorable event for Gaelen. She was seated with the other Wood-elves at a long table near the entrance to the Great Hall. Though far from the King’s table, she could still witness one of the mightiest assemblages of Elven and Mankind that had been seen since the First Reckoning. Lady Ordath presided over the gathering, together with Ri-Elathan and Alduinar. All were resplendent, but Gaelen’s gaze was particularly drawn to Ri-Elathan. Clad in sable and silver, he wore a simple crown of gold upon his dark hair. His keen grey eyes were as stern as ever, though he seemed relaxed, even smiling on occasion, usually when responding to Alduinar, a tall, bearded man of regal bearing who sat beside him.
    The King’s eyes roamed the crowd, as though searching, and then they lit upon Gaelen and roamed no more. She quickly looked away, flushing. He surely knew that she had been the very one skulking near the secret war-council; his expression had been exactly the same, though he had not met her eyes then. At first she dared not look at him again, but in spite of herself she raised her chin and turned her gaze to his. For a moment each looked at the other without flinching. Then one of the courtiers passed in front of her, and the moment was broken. When the way had cleared, Ri-Elathan was otherwise engaged and paid her no more heed.

    A few days later, Tarfion’s presence was requested as part of a royal hunting party. Ri-Elathan had arranged to ride out over the hills to the southwest, for he was weary of debates and tactics and wanted to feel the freedom of the open air. He specifically requested a small group to accompany him, including Osgar as representative of the Woodland. Osgar wanted Tarfion to go along as his personal guard.
    The hunting party rode forth in the early morning, making its way down through the mountain-paths before turning southward, trampling the dew-spangled grass along steep, treacherous bluffs flanking the river Nachtan.
    Clad in hunting attire of dull green and grey, Ri-Elathan rode at the fore with his standard-bearer. The banner that flew beside him was small, but beautiful—a silken blue-and-sable with silver stars and golden sun, spun of thread so fine that it rippled in the wind like water. It was an heirloom of Ri-Elathan’s house, having been made for his father, Ri-Aldamar. It had seen many such outings and was still in fine condition, for it was too small to be a battle-standard.
    It would never be known what caused the banner to break free of its attachment and fly loose on the wind, to the chagrin of the standard-bearer and the dismay of Ri-Elathan. Higher and higher it drifted, straight for the bluffs and the wild water. Those who witnessed the events of the day might have assigned its escape to fate, for the banner had never before broken free.
    Now it flew toward an irrecoverable doom, for if it went over the edge of the bluffs the wind would surely drop it into the river, never to be found. None of the company would be able to retrieve it, as it was being carried too swiftly and too high. Ri-Elathan’s eyes were grim, for the loss of this token grieved him beyond measure.
    Unbeknownst to anyone, Gaelen had followed the hunting party at a distance, and she