Around his shoulders and down to the beach hung a long cape which seemed to match the colour of the sea exactly so that at that moment it was of a deep dark greyish hue interspersed with flecks of white. Later they learned that it did in fact change as the sea changed so that out at sea he was almost invisible. Around his head he wore a thin band of silver with a simple dark green stone set in it at the front.
‘Saurélon; Lord of the Seas,’ said Faraid, and he ushered the animals a little closer to him so that they were standing, rather nervously, in a line. Although Saurélon’s figure represented an awesome and intensely magical image, they were not frightened of him. He came to each one of them in turn and put his hand on their heads or held them by the shoulders while he looked into their faces and when he smiled at them their bodies seemed to glow with warmth as if the summer sun were shining. He came to Nab last and stood for a long time in front of him until it seemed as though he would stay for ever, and Nab thought that he could see tears forming in the corner of his eyes; but he never told anyone and it may only have been the reflection of the sun against the cloak.
‘We have waited for you a long time,’ he said, and in his voice was the music of the sea. ‘A long, long time. Come; follow me. You must be cold, hungry and tired after your ordeal in the marshes.’
The sun was now going down over the horizon and the sky was filled with the gold of evening. The white clouds that had been scudding about in the blue all day had now gone and the heavens were darkening. They followed Saurélon up the beach with the elves coming behind, and he led them into a large cave. It was dark at first and the crunching of their footsteps over the pebbles echoed loudly. Further in, the place smelt more and more strongly of wet seaweed, for the sun never reached here to dry out what the tide had left. Their eyes had grown more used to the darkness now and they could see the glistening walls of the cave and make out, running along both sides at about the height of Nab’s shoulder, a wide ledge in which the sea had gouged out little hollows. These now formed rock pools in which crimson and green sea anemones waved their delicate fronds and strands of red or brown seaweed floated gently. The bottom of many of these little pools was bright pink so that the mixture of colours was like a miniature garden and Nab and Beth were unable to resist stopping to look into them. They explored them with their fingers, delicately moving the forests of green seaweed and watching the little fish dart out to find another hiding place. Little bright yellow periwinkles crawled slowly along the bottom as if burdened down by the weight of their shells and once they saw a hermit crab tentatively sticking his pincers out of the empty whelk shell in which he had made his home.
The cave now opened out and became slightly larger. Saurélon stopped and the elves went off into various dark comers around the walls about their own business. Although they were quite a long way from the shore and were unable to see the beach the cave was remarkably light and the animals saw that the rock itself contained streaks of yellow and silver which shone and it was from these that the light came. On the far wall, the sea had carved a seat in the rock, the back and the arms of which had been worn smooth by innumerable tides.
‘My seat, when I’m here, which is not often enough,’ said Saurélon, and he took them over to it and sat down. ‘I am fond of it here,’he continued, ‘it is one of my chosen places. I was pleased when it was learnt that I was to meet you here in the land of Sheigra on the Isle of Elgol for little enough do I get the chance to come and I always enjoy it so.’ He stopped as if his mind had drifted off and he stared down at the ground in silence until the elves came over carrying food and drink in little shell bowls and handed them to the visitors before going back and fetching their own. As the elves moved to and fro Beth noticed that the silver light which had shone from them in the darkness of the cave entrance had faded in the light of this main part of the cave so that now they no longer sparkled but rather gave off a faint white glow similar to the light of the moon when it lingers on into morning or appears in late afternoon. Soon they were all sitting down on the damp pebbles of the cave floor eating and drinking busily for they were hungry, and the only sound that could be heard was the distant crashing of the sea on the shore and the clink of the shell goblets and plates.
The food was plain and simple, unlike the vast array of different dishes which had been presented to them by the wood elves and which had made Beth’s mouth water when Nab had described the feasts to her. Now they were given simply a bowl in which had been placed some carragheen and some kelp both of which had been turned into a kind of mulch and which tasted rather bitter, but there was also some delicate green sea lettuce which was crisp and had a touch of sweetness so that, eaten together, they were pleasant. The drink in their goblets was the same as that which Faraid had given them when they had first been rescued in the marsh and it tasted as good now as it had then, warming them through and through and washing the last vestiges of darkness from their minds. The travellers were more hungry than they had had time to realize for they had not eaten since before they entered Blore, and they had soon finished the contents of their bowls and finished their drink. Faraid, who was sitting next to them, beckoned to two other elves nearby who jumped up and took away the goblets and bowls to refill them. Once more this happened until finally they felt full.
When Saurélon was sure that they had eaten enough, he spoke.
‘Tell us of yourselves,’ he said. ‘Let us hear your story from the beginning, for although parts of it have come to our ears they are like parts of a mosaic which need to be fitted together to form a picture.’
The elves had stopped talking and were looking expectantly at the animals, and Saurélon was smiling down at them from his seat in the rock. Nab looked at Brock. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘You must start. We’ll take over for the bits we each know best.’
Brock was reminded of the time he had had to speak at that Council Meeting so long ago in Silver Wood. He had had to tell the same story then as he was about to tell now but little had he known then how it would all turn out. If someone had said to him that he Would eventually be relating the story to Saurélon, Lord of the Sea, and a group of sea-elves on the Isle of Elgol in the land of Sheigra, he would have laughed at them. Tara would have been proud of him now; how he wished she was still alive and could be with him for it was her story as much as his. He looked across at Warrigal as he had that first time, and the owl, knowing what he was thinking, nodded at him in encouragement for he too remembered that Council Meeting very clearly when they had been trying to persuade Wythen and Bruin and Rufus and Sterndale and Pictor and the others to allow Nab to stay in the wood. He thought of them now, nearly all dead, and he wondered what had happened to old Wythen. Brock started his story and the owl listened carefully, trying hard not to interrupt if the badger missed something or got something slightly wrong, for amongst the animals it is the height of bad manners to interrupt a story while it is being told.