by R A Oakes
Backing away from the celebration, Jaren shuddered and thought, I’m witnessing the beginning of something, but what?
In the near future, he’d understand what had taken place and remember this day with dread, for what was happening here would soon strike fear into the hearts of all humans.
The Age of Zarimora had begun.
Chapter 8
A few weeks later, Gratuga’s weather had greatly improved, at least from a troll’s standpoint. A giant storm system was now hovering directly overhead drenching the landscape with torrential thundershowers and blotting out the sun. Having moved far to the east, the fair weather that had been terrorizing Gratuga was now favoring Woodcliff Village, Coldstream Village and surrounding settlements with blue skies, forcing the local troll population into hiding and allowing humans to roam about freely.
Dark Shadow, Swift Arrow, Raven and Dynarsis welcomed the sunshine as the boy with the clawed chest recuperated regaining his former strength and surpassing it. As Aldwen had suspected, the special ointment applied to Dynarsis’ chest did more than just heal him. Its mystical properties had found their way into the young king’s bloodstream, coursing through every part of his body. Dynarsis now possessed the strength of men almost twice his age, and though his outward physical appearance remained unchanged, the 12-year-old boy’s lean, hard muscles were as tough as the strongest rope.
In addition to his physical development, Dynarsis had become increasingly fluent in the Equestrian language having whiled away the long days of his recuperation talking to Dark Shadow, Swift Arrow and the other wild horses. But though Dark Shadow and Swift Arrow were pleased with their son’s thirst for knowledge, they still had serious reservations about his mental health. Dynarsis’ fits of rage were becoming less frequent, as were his nightmares, but the intensity could be terrifying when either occurred. Villagers were rapidly growing impatient with the boy’s mercurial nature and had begun talking about locking him away for their good, if not for his. Having an unstable youngster around was bad enough, but this one possessed extraordinary strength, clung to his sword like a security blanket and went riding around on wild horses while screaming at the top of his lungs. It was enough to give some villagers their own nightmares.
As a result, the boy was shunned by the residents of Coldstream Village and had been banned from entering their stockade. Many residents of Woodcliff Village wanted to do the same, but they’d found that Dynarsis couldn’t be fully ostracized because his Uncle Thaddeus was such a respected leader in their community. Still, most everyone felt better on nights when the boy slept outside the stockade with his wild horses.
As a way of releasing their frustration, some villagers had privately begun mocking Dynarsis calling him “Brianuk,” meaning Lord of Horses, but others viewed the nickname as positive and as a source of encouragement and support. However, his Uncle Thaddeus knew something had to be done to help Dynarsis, and soon. Determined to watch over his nephew and protect him, Thaddeus was becoming increasingly concerned over his neighbors’ growing intolerance. All it would take was for Dynarsis to injure someone, even slightly, and the villagers would try to chain him up like a dog or lock him in a horse shed, or both.
As for Raven, she didn’t care what anyone else thought of her friend, and the courageous girl was proud of rescuing Dynarsis from the giant wolf on Dead Man’s Mountain. The budding warrior woman realized that if it hadn’t been for her, Aldwen’s prophecy about the Trinity of Fire and the emergence of a young king would mean nothing. Raven felt it was her destiny to be the king’s protector, his right arm, defending Dynarsis against all enemies. But she, too, realized that if Dynarsis made one false move, the villagers would lock him away. Raven was desperate to get him out of the area, and she was one thing more.
Raven was determined to rescue her father from Gratuga, even though her mother remained adamantly against the idea of going anywhere near the troll capital. Zorya had repeatedly said that no matter how much her daughter missed Jaren, her decision was final. Zorya wanted her husband back and missed him, too, but not enough to put her daughter’s life at risk. When it came to Gratuga and its hundreds or even thousands of hideous trolls, every protective maternal instinct Zorya possessed was screaming danger!
However, with the blazing sun overhead driving local trolls into hiding, virtually everyone else was experiencing a sense of overwhelming relief, and there was a temporary moratorium on worrying about anything, especially those vile creatures. For the moment, life seemed good. But the happiness others were experiencing was making Zorya feel even worse. On top of that, there was the upcoming festival and, given that she was viewed as a fire-breathing witch, Zorya didn’t exactly expect an invitation.
In celebration of these hot sunny days, the residents of Woodcliff Village had quickly organized a festival and had notified neighboring villages within a day’s walk. Some guests rode in on horses from farther away, but all arrived before sunset, none wishing to risk being outside the protective walls of a stockade overnight. And though this made for crowded conditions, there was so much catching up to do that the adults hardly noticed, most being engaged in animated conversations into the wee hours of the morning. No one got much sleep, except for the children who were snuggled safe in their beds.
The next day, the villagers quickly finished setting up the pavilions and tables for an eagerly awaited feast while the aroma of freshly-baked bread, pies, cookies and food of all kinds swept through the area. But smiles faded, and many villagers looked up in alarm, when someone shouted a warning, “Here comes Brianuk with his wild horses!”
Astride Dark Shadow, Dynarsis was riding towards the festival with Raven on his left riding Swift Arrow, and over a dozen wild horses were galloping along behind them.
“What could he possibly be up to?” one man asked.
“I don’t know, but he’s not going to ruin our day, come on!” another man shouted while drawing his sword. Two other men followed suit, all three brandishing their weapons in a threatening manner. However, walking slowly and quietly out from under a pavilion, Thaddeus stood between the swordsmen and the oncoming wild horses and calmly asked, “What do you boys have in mind?”
“Dynarsis is dangerous, and he’ll knock over tables and tear down the pavilions!” the first man said, looking nervously at Thaddeus’ right hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“We have a right to defend ourselves!” another of the swordsmen said.
“How do you know they’re attacking?” Thaddeus asked calmly.
When none of the men answered him, Thaddeus faced the oncoming horses admiring the sense of power and freedom they exuded, then waved to his nephew and shouted, “Glad you could make it.”
Once reaching Thaddeus, the horses came to a stop and the man who’d first drawn his sword glared up at Dynarsis and said, “We’re not feeding your horses. This festival’s for people not animals.”
Raven jumped into the conversation without hesitation saying, “It also appears it’s for people with bad manners judging by the welcome you’re giving us, or not giving us.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, you snot-nosed, little brat.”
“It’s a good thing for you that you weren’t,” Raven said, glaring back at him, flames beginning to flicker round the edges of her fingertips.
All three swordsmen took a step back upon seeing that, with the leader nervously asking, “So where’s your mother?”
“Mom said she wasn’t invited.”
“Neither were you.”
“I’m Dynarsis’ date.”
“He’s not welcome either.”
“He lives here.”
“Maybe not for long.”
“He does today.”
“What do you want?”
“We came to provide an activity for the festival,” Dynarsis said, finally speaking up.
“What?”
“Horse rides for the children,” the boy replied.
“Are you crazy?” the ma
n asked, then flinched when Thaddeus took a step in his direction. “I mean, who would risk putting their children on wild horses?”
“They’re quite tame, really.”
“I’ll bet they are,” the leader said, looking apprehensively at the huge animals that had now formed a semicircle around him.
“No, really, they’re fine.”
“We’ll see,” the man said as he reached up with a sweaty palm and stroked Dark Shadow’s snout. After listening to this revolting human insulting his new son, it took every ounce of the black stallion’s self-restraint not to knock the man down with a flick of his hoof.
“It’s okay, Father, they’re not all like him,” Dynarsis said, patting the stallion on his broad neck.
“Father? What father?” the man snarled.
“That’s enough,” Thaddeus said calmly but with an edge to his voice. “If he wants to offer horse rides, let the parents decide for themselves if they trust the horses or not.”
“No one will put a child on one of these brutes.”
“We’ll see,” Raven shot back. Then, pointing at a young man in his mid-teens, she asked, “What about you?”
Not having expected to be singled out, the young man wasn’t sure what to do. So Raven slipped off Swift Arrow’s back and asked, “Are you too scared to ride a horse that a girl’s willing to ride?”
“No, I’ll give it a try,” the young man said, gathering up his nerve. Being from a village almost 30 miles away, he’d ridden in with his family yesterday and knew little about Dynarsis or his wild horses. But stories had been circulating in his home village of Fairfield about a boy having been proclaimed Brianuk, Lord of Horses, and he was glad to finally be meeting such an esteemed personage. Dynarsis had unknowingly developed support among many young people in the region who were impressed by his ability to aggravate so many adults and to have gotten away with it, at least so far.
Going up to Swift Arrow, the young man patted the mare on her neck and whispered, “Don’t hurt me, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Swift Arrow replied, but he didn’t understand her, not being able to speak Equestrian.
Gripping the mare’s mane with both hands, he jumped and swung himself up onto her back. Holding his breath for just a moment, he waited to see how the horse would react. When Swift Arrow appeared comfortable with him astride her back, he looked over at his friends who were standing by the pavilion and gave a confident smile.
“Come on, Brianuk, let’s go for a ride!” the young man shouted to Dynarsis, and they went tearing off through the surrounding field at a full gallop. The young man was thrilled with the intense feelings of speed and power and shouted, “This is great!”
Running up to Raven, two of his buddies asked, “Can we go for a ride, too?”
“Sure, pick any horse you want.”
Soon, more young people asked Raven’s permission to join in the fun. Within a matter of minutes, all the wild horses were galloping through the field with teenage boys and girls on their backs. “Let’s run wild!” one of them shouted as others raced to line up by Raven to wait their turn.
Looking at the three men who had drawn their swords, Thaddeus laughed and said, “Yea, those horses are causing a real problem.”
Sheepishly the men sheathed their weapons, but the first man, the one who’d caused all the trouble to begin with, said, “We were doing what we thought was best.”
“I doubt you were thinking at all,” Thaddeus said, refusing to let him off the hook.
“If any of those kids get hurt, you’ll regret this.”
“If you so much as breathe wrong in my direction again, you’ll be the one with the regrets,” Thaddeus said, disliking the man intensely. Dynarsis’ uncle was aware of men like this who were aggressive cowards and prone to rash action. Such people played on the fears of others, their own feelings of personal insecurity making them defensive, irrational and dangerous.
It’s men like this who’ll drive Dynarsis away, Thaddeus thought, feeling deeply disgusted with such people.
After a while, when all the teenagers had gotten a turn, the younger children began lining up for a chance to be naughty and ride the forbidden wild horses. Nothing was more fun than doing what they’d been warned not to do and safely getting away with it. Then, after they had their turns, Thaddeus was even prouder of his nephew as Dark Shadow, Swift Arrow and their gentlest horses began strolling along with little ones on their backs. Parents of the youngest children had been cautious and reluctant at first, but with the horses being particularly well-behaved, the age of the children participating kept getting younger and younger. Even toddlers with a parent riding with them for support were soon giggling, pulling the horses’ manes and patting them on their backs.
Dynarsis’ horses were the hit of the festival, and the entire gathering seemed swept up in the excitement with the positive mood spilling over to other activities. Villagers playing musical instruments began strolling through the crowd, a reinvigorated storyteller was enthralling a large gathering of both children and adults with her seemingly magical words, and a group of men along with a few strong, sturdy-looking women were tossing axes at targets with amazing accuracy, while other women were enjoying a pie-judging contest. Afterwards, over a dozen of the most athletic women, including the winner of the blue ribbon for the pie contest, engaged in a display of swordplay that was a major highlight of the festival. Having grown up with the threat of trolls, women not only knew how to feed their families but, out of practical necessity, had been trained to defend them.
However, with the sun scorching the entire region, trolls were the last things people were worried about. Finally, there was a brief period of time when everyone could gather together in friendship unafraid. Or not.
When the first shrill cries of terror pierced the air, Raven whirled around and saw six children running away from the edge of a streambed. With recent drought conditions, the water level had lowered considerably creating a drop of several feet from the edge of the bank to the stream itself. At first, Raven thought someone had fallen in, but the looks of total panic on the children’s faces warned her that it was something far worse.
“They have my little sister!” one boy screamed.
“Who has her?” Raven asked breathlessly, having been the first to reach him with Dynarsis close behind.
“Trolls!”
“It can’t be trolls, not in this weather,” Dynarsis objected as he felt his own fears welling up inside him at the mere mention of the creatures.
“Trolls! Trolls! Trolls!” the boy yelled, pointing in the direction of the stream.
Raven sprinted over to the edge of the bank, looked down and was shocked to see three cloaked, hooded figures crossing the stream carrying two small girls who were hysterical and wide-eyed with fear.
“Come on!” Raven shouted, jumping down the embankment with Dynarsis right behind her gripping his sword.
The stream wasn’t quite waist deep, but the current was swift, and the teenage girl and the boy with the claw marks on his chest had to fight their way across. Once reaching the opposite side, they climbed out and gave chase with Raven shouting, “Let those children go!”
Surprised by how fast Raven was, Dynarsis was struggling to keep up while his own brain was shrieking for him to run away from the trolls not towards them. But not wanting to let down either his friend or the kidnapped children, the young king of an unknown mountain plateau fought to control his fear.
“Dynarsis!” someone shouted behind him. “Wait, you don’t know how many trolls there are!”
Looking over his shoulder, the 12-year-old boy saw his Uncle Thaddeus leap into the stream and begin fighting his way across.
“Maybe we should stop,” Dynarsis said to his friend as he continued running as quickly as possible trying to keep up.
“No, the trolls are too far out in front. We could lose them.”
“I can’t see them now. Where are they?”
“They cut into the woods by the large oak tree.”
After reaching the spot, Raven and Dynarsis charged into the forest quickly coming to a fork in the path. “Which way do you think they went?” Dynarsis asked.
“Which path scares you the most?”
“The one going to the right makes my skin crawl.”
“Okay, let’s try that one,” Raven said, feeling equally apprehensive, for the girl knew what would happen if the trolls followed it to the very end. They’d come to a large field with a stone cottage off in the distance, a stone cottage that was her home.
I know mother’s powerful, but what if she’s taken by surprise? What if she’s having a nap or lying down with a headache? Raven asked herself. If mother’s sleeping or somehow taken unawares, she could be killed.
Gritting her teeth and running as hard as she could, Raven followed the trail as it plunged down a steep embankment, turned sharply to the left at the bottom and went straight ahead for almost 200 yards. Gasping for breath, Raven and Dynarsis sprinted along the straightaway and rounded another bend, but still the trolls were nowhere in sight.
“Where could they have gone?” Raven wheezed, having stopped for a moment to rub her thighs which were burning from all the exertion.
“I don’t know,” Dynarsis said, frustrated that their quarry was eluding them. The boy was used to running great distances but realized they were chasing full-grown trolls who’d begun this footrace with a considerable head start.
Charging ahead, Raven plunged down another steep hill before stopping at the edge of a large, green field sprinkled with wildflowers. Off in the distance, in the middle of the clearing, was her home, an attractive stone cottage surrounded by a small grove of oak trees. But a few overhanging branches seemed burnt and charred, and some of the stones appeared soot-stained and scorched, and the wood-shingled roof looked fresh and new, as if the previous one had been destroyed by fire and had only recently been rebuilt.
About 50 yards from the cottage was a well with a three-foot-high stone wall around it but with no protective roof, the wooden planks and support posts having long since been burned away. Roosting on the branches of the oak trees were dozens of ravens, the majestic birds having black feathers with a purplish tint. The ravens were nearly two-feet-tall, had a wingspan of over four feet and possessed the keen intelligence of wolves. They were formidable opponents and valuable allies which Zorya had discovered years ago. And they were one thing more. Often viewed as scavengers by the villagers, the ravens were treated like outcasts, much like Zorya and her daughter.