What kind of power? Where is it? Breanna asked, mystified. I am willing. She closed her mind to all other thoughts and sounds. “Power,” she said, “whatever you are, please help me speak to my scared friend.”
The ancients heard the pleading words, and Ziglianor, the oldest elf, frowned, unhappy that power was being invoked. It was not yet time, and the void was a dangerous place for the untrained. But the champion’s cry was just, and he could not turn away. To travel the unmarked pathways of the netherworld was only for those ready to risk their lives. But it must be done, for to refuse her request was to end her trust.
Ziglianor watched as ripples and waves of elven power traveled through time, like the sea when its water was ruffled by great winds. Trembling and humming, it rotated and created a door, black and swirling, connecting the source and the destination. The old wood sprite saw it was done, and retreated to his place of rest knowing his duty had only begun.
Breanna crossed the long, narrow chasm and was catapulted along the blind path. With a hopeful heart, she entered the mind of the girl in her underground prison. It was a small task for elves who traveled from world to world in their time, but the champion was young and untrained in such magic, and easily overwhelmed.
Lying on the bale, her head in her hands, Breanna thought of Elida: her smallness, her love for animals, her love for her family.
Child. Anola’s voice penetrated her thoughts. Thanks to our ancestors, you are there. Be cautious, for what you do is dangerous. Others can see you, if they too travel the dark pathway.
Enclosed in a small, tight place, Breanna spoke to Elida through the girl’s own lips, saw through her eyes the harshness of the room, its bleak atmosphere a terrible place for such an innocent. She called out, and Elida replied that the witches had hurt her at first but no more. She was alive, and if not well, she was coherent.
Too much! The pain was more than Breanna could stand. She spoke of her love, and then broke the connection with Elida begging her to stay. Breanna moaned from the ache in her head. The pain was sharp, piercing, and unbearable. Moaning again, she lay back, hoping the ache would ease. She fell into sleep and lost touch with time. A moment, an hour later, her forehead felt the cooling touch of fingers massaging above her brows. She opened burning eyes to see the captain sitting beside her, holding her head in one strong hand, whispering soft words of comfort. The pain eased, and she relaxed with his touch. He leaned down and wiped her brow with his kerchief, the feeling light, warm.
Jerking awake, Breanna saw she was alone in the hold, and the pain was gone. She was relaxed as though from long sleep. Searching the room, she saw no one else, but her bed of folded cloth had an imprint where someone else had sat.
“Was the captain here? Was it real or a dream?” she muttered as she climbed the steps and looked outside toward the east, where the morning light touched the line of the sea. Colors of red and yellow lay on the stilled waters. A beautiful day was at hand. She felt happy being alive, and tingled at the memory of the captain’s ministrations. Walking toward the wheelhouse, she searched for him inside but found the first mate there, tending the wheel.
“Is the captain here?” she asked in a voice she hoped sounded like Sean’s.
“Nay, lad,” Skimp said. “He went ashore last night after the storm. Picking up a few supplies. Why do you want to know?”
“It’s of no matter. About the storm,” she said, puzzled and somehow disappointed.
Sean arrived on deck, a biscuit in his hand. “Breakfast was good this morning—everyone sick from the storm last night, more for me. Are you a’right?”
“Yes,” she said. “I was looking for the captain. I wanted to ask him when we’ll get across the sea.”
“He said yesterday we would be there in seven days. I hope Elida is still alive,” he said dejectedly.
“Sean, Elida is alive, I…I saw her last night.”
“You mean you dreamed about her?” he asked.
“No, I saw her. She’s in a dark room, and they hurt her some when she first got there, but no more. I think she is in real trouble, Sean. She sounded so scared.”
“You saw her?” he whispered, and coughed as the biscuit choked his dry throat. “You saw Elida?”
“Yes, she was real. I told her we were coming for her.”
“I won’t ask how, you’ll not tell me anyway, but if you saw her, then thank you for telling me, Bree,” he said with tears in his eyes. “We have to hurry.”
“Yes, we must. I don’t know how much longer they will let her live,” she said under her breath.
Captain Rand returned later in a lifeboat filled with fruits, vegetables, and dried fish from one of the islands in the middle of the sea. He seemed happy, as though he had found everything he searched for.
Breanna saw him smile, and it hurt her to know what had happened had been a dream. She felt foolish, but full of insight. It appeared she had some feelings not under control for the young captain, and they came out during her sleep. She would have to remember, and be careful she did not talk during her dreaming. She left the deck, not wishing to make a bigger fool of herself than she already felt.
Tom was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt mussed, britches on though not fastened. He jumped up and began to close the snaps on his clothing when she entered the cabin.
“Tom, I saw Elida last night, spoke to her. She is so scared. The witches are holding her, though they no longer hurt her. I had hoped to give her comfort, but I may have given her false hope,” she said, using a cloth to cover the foul-smelling bucket beside Tom’s feet. “We have such a long way to go and a short time to get there.”
“Aye, sometimes false hope’s no good, can make a soul lose its way, but this girl is small, needs comforting up to the time they might break her into a thousand pieces,” he said wisely, putting his boots on. “No matter how it happened, ’twas the right thing to do, lass.”
“Thank you, Tom. Captain Rand knows about me and Sean, knows we are not your blood family. He was mad at me at first for lying to him. Now I think he’s over it, but he may be mad at you too,” she said, adding to his already poor mental attitude after the seasickness drained him.
“I’ll be up top, lass, working me passage. Let the stones fall where they may. ’Tis our life now.” With that, Tom departed the cabin, leaving Breanna alone with her thoughts and a rank chamber bucket.
The next several days were quiet, the weather still, and all storms to the south of them. Sometimes they could see the tall tops of a dark cloud easing off into the southern sky. The captain seemed grateful after each missed blow, and encouraged the men of his crew to sit on the deck at night, singing sailor songs and drinking ale.
Two nights later, Captain Rand called the three adventurers out of the cabin to tell them they would arrive at Vadar the next morning. He cautioned them to hold their coin tight on shore, and be suspicious of the cart drivers who wanted their pay in advance.
“You must find me if there’s trouble. The ship will be in the harbor for a fortnight, for repairs after the storm. I have naught to do for the time except visit the ale taverns, or go to chapel. Either is fine in small amounts.”
Tom laughed, hugging his coat under his arm. The bright green hat was placed far back on his head, covering the bald spot near the center back.
“’Tis a dangerous offer you make, young captain. This group be on a saving journey, to take a young girl from a coven of the meanest witches in this world or the next.”
“A’right, the offer is good, no matter if it’s dangerous or not,” the captain finished, his own cap sitting off-center. “I like a little danger every now and again.”
“If you’re sure of what you offer, your help would be more than liked,” Tom said. “If you need to hear the story, we can wait for you after the docking in the morn.”
“Aye, I mean what I say,” the captain said. “After the docking, then.”
Sean could stand it no longer, holding his breath unt
il the captain had cleared the area. He gulped air and said loudly, “Do you think he will really go with us?”
Tom cut his eyes toward Breanna, who stood quietly, as though something had a hold on her tongue.
“He’ll go,” Tom said. “Question is, do you want him to go?”
Breanna looked at him and shrugged; her face reddened.
“If you wish,” she said. “He does appear strong, and is tolerable company.”
“Then go he does,” Tom replied. Sean gave a strong shout of agreement, relieved at having another member added to the group, ready to save his little sister. Breanna, on the other hand, could only wonder at the turn of events. The journey would indeed prove to be interesting.
Next morning, after the ship docked, true to his word, Captain Rand met the three, prepared to load his gear along with theirs. As they headed away from the harbor village, Breanna told Tom she needed some other clothing, for what she was wearing had been washed so many times it was ragged in the holes. They went to a shop displaying used clothing for both males and females, and he dropped her off to do her bit of buying. She was unaccustomed to having any coin in her hand, and was unsure of what to pay. Watching other females in the shop, she decided to follow their lead.
A girl about her size wore a long dress with apron and bib the color of the bow in her hair, but Breanna couldn’t imagine wearing such nonsense while running from mordants. She would be caught before she could say “scat.” Another soul entered the shop wearing a long robe of bright green, with flowing sleeves bunched broadly at the shoulder and tightened with buttons at the wrist. Images of huge red flowers were splashed across the bodice, as if growing in a green field. When the woman took a step, the hem of the garment swept the floor, revealing tiny-buttoned shoes with slender heels. Breanna shuddered, certain such a garment would mean nothing less than her capture.
After purchasing new small clothes, she looked over several other items deemed for females before finally choosing soft green britches that fit snugly and covered her from waist to ankles. Over them she wore a fitted long-sleeved blouse of bright blue linen ending below her hips. The result was interesting and efficient, for her legs were covered for running, and those studying her would be unsure if she was male or female. She could also carry her bow and quiver over it easily.
When Tom and the captain saw her clothing, they both did a short walk around and nodded, liking what they saw.
“’Twill be perfect for the journey,” Tom said. “Mind you keep that red hair covered while walking the cobblestones. ’Tis a giveaway to them searching.”
The captain nodded again, tongue-tied for a moment, then agreed with Tom.
“Aye, once you’ve seen her hair, it’s hard to forget.”
They found a cart man willing to sell them a farmer’s wagon for a reasonable price, but he demanded a fortune for two beasts to pull it. Tom’s sharp trader’s eyes spotted a man nearby holding reins on two thin oxen. When asked was his intent to sell them to the butcher, the man nodded, and explained he needed the coppers for the family.
“Can’t afford the feed, and their legs have grown spindly. Not much longer for the plow,” the farmer complained sorrowfully. “Been my mates for a great while, but a knave has to eat.”
Tom paid the farmer for the oxen and then returned to buy the cart. Rand brought the animals forward, and the two men hitched them side by side. Bess and Barley had worked all their lives in the fields around Vadar, plowing furrows in hard ground where corn and potatoes would later be planted. The oxen were solid animals, weakened by hard work and hunger. Tom knew a few good meals would fix them right up. The purchases took most of his silver coins, but the deals had been better than good.
Quietly, Breanna studied the animals and wondered if her memories might help Bess and Barley recover good health. No one knew how far the journey would be, but to lose one of the team would slow their progress considerably.
Sean insisted on sitting beside the captain in the back of the cart, allowing Breanna to sit up front with Tom, the driver. Their final destination had them passing alongside the Darth of Qayborn, and then onward toward the hamlet of Parth, where Yahmara and her consorts were rumored to be gathering in large groups every night. After traveling a short distance, Breanna asked Tom to stop the wagon, for she wanted to look closely at Bess and Barley and see how they were holding up. Tom pulled the reins without question and brought the animals to a stop.
Bess was the leader of the two, or so Breanna thought. She was reassured of her opinion after a short conversation with them both. Oxen are quick, and to the point, but as long as they understand, I don’t care how wordy they are. Please, let these creatures travel as fast as the wind, but keep them safe from harm, she thought, a mixture of a prayer and a spell pulled from her elven memory. After adding a few more soft words for the oxen’s benefit, she climbed into the cart, fully believing her requests would be granted.
The captain stared as the thin girl in boys’ clothing leaned into the two oxen and whispered in their large ears. He was even more amazed when the animals responded with several eloquent sounds, almost as though there was conversation among the three.
After she reseated herself, Rand asked the purpose of the stop and of her actions.
“We need more speed; I asked them to hurry.”
“Don’t bother asking her no more, you’ll get nothing for your troubles. Wait and see if she got what she wanted,” Sean interjected. He seldom got upset anymore when Breanna used magic, nor did he quiz her about her methods. He was content she had nothing to do with witchcraft, the thing they all feared.
She had known all along any connection with her and the black craft might make Sean suspicious she had helped kidnap Elida. His recent change of attitude and show of trust thrilled her, and lifted her spirits. It also lightened her load of worry. Now she had no need to expose the secrets of the seven Qays who loved and protected her.
When Tom touched the leads and clicked his tongue, the oxen began moving, first at their normal pace, then they wobbled a bit, stumbling over each other’s big hooves in the traces until the spell Breanna cast sent the large, normally slow animals speeding over the deserted road. Their feet barely touched the grassy trail, and the cart behind them rode on a film of air just beneath the wheels. Natural wind whistled and sprinkled a light coating of dust upon the traveling companions.
“’Tis a far better way to journey,” Tom said, grinding his teeth. He grasped the leads in fear they would fly away, and glanced at the girl beside him. “Much smoother. Someday, perhaps you will tell old Tom how you did it.” Breanna looked at him and smiled with affection, saying nothing, just as he had expected.
Parth was located northeast of the Darth of Qayborn, off the deep coast of the Qadra Sea, putting them in reach of some very fierce creatures along the way. Trolls still patrolled there even after many hundreds of years had passed since the Qays moved on to Nore Mountain. The population had long ago been a food source for the oversized monsters, and their tiny, instinctive brains still remembered, and they hungered for the taste of Qay meat.
Breanna had heard from her mam and poppa about Qayborn and other darths surrounded by seawater near the castle. Some of the stories they told were of wonderful times in the water before the creatures found them and began taking members of the tribe for food. Sean shivered when she spoke of the giant Phoebus and the land monsters that inhabited the darth coves beside the sea.
Rand reminded them the danger from predators would be greatest at night, for most slept during the day. They would be forced to sleep in shifts, keeping watch for roving giants looking for food as the cart sped forward during the sunlit hours.
They traveled till midafternoon, passing by the shallows quietly to avoid waking the beasts in the underground caverns near shoreline. Their camp the first night was a third of the way to the harbor at Tick, a settlement north of Parth. Bess and Barley had made such good time on the first day’s journey that it cheered them
all and gave them hope they really could do what was needed.
Tom mentioned that one of the souls in Vadar had called the country along the roadway to Parth the Barren Lands, for nothing could be seen, not tree, nor leafy stem, only meter after meter of flat, unattractive sand. All lay open to view—the dunes rising high, and the flat land with deep holes where a foot or a wheel could get caught and take a traveler to his death. And inside, underground, lived the nasty Orbels.
The spell worked, Breanna thought after Tom stopped the wagon at the bottom of a low sand dune. Even though they still had a long way to go, she was grateful the oxen had not only survived, they were in better health than before. At times the memories were sufficient within themselves. Her head was clear, without aches. Breanna wondered why at times when she used the memories the pain was unbearable, yet at others, it was not so bad. She hoped one day someone would explain it to her.
Gathering elements for the fire was Rand and Sean’s duty. There was little wood to be found, and after walking a long distance and picking up a few pieces of sea driftwood, Sean hit upon gathering dried dung from the fields for fire materials.
“My pop was a man to try all sorts of new ways, and he burned dung a few times outside. Maybe we can keep the beasties away by using their own leavings for the fire.”
“Aye,” the captain said, “it’s a good thing to try.”
The smell of the fire was horrendous. Some of the dung had come from meat eaters, adding the stench of flesh and bone to the heat. The campers coughed a bit and pitched the odorous ones off to the side, keeping the vegetarians’ dung with its burning grass smell for their meal preparation and sleep time. The captain had brought along food supplies to add to the others’ fare, and cooked the simple meal himself.
Breanna tried very hard to keep her eyes averted as the captain worked, but it was difficult, for she admired Rand Winter tremendously.
Tom wasn’t long fooled by the obvious changes in his young friend’s personality. Concerned at first, he’d searched for a cause, thinking she was suffering from an elfish condition he had no knowledge of. But later, observing the girl’s flushes and occasional stammering, like a bolt of lightning that comes out of a cloud, he realized that Breanna was smitten by Captain Rand.
The Gantlet Page 17