“Q’uaina are you all right? Speak to me,” concern edged Ossian’s voice as he rushed forwards to her side. Q’uaina was still warm to the touch, her skin felt…alive.
She gasped suddenly and colour rushed back to her face. He gently lifted her back and they both sat against the great ash’s trunk. The mare lay on the ground in front of them, its breathing had steadied into a regular rhythm. They sat like that for some time as if in a trance. Then the mare stirred. Her muscles twitched and she slowly rose to her feet, a little shakily at first but then she stood tall and proud.
The foal snorted in delight and butted its mother for attention. The mare nuzzled its young offspring and the two nickered to each other. Finally, the mare turned towards Q’uaina and Ossian. It did not move away. Ossian stood and helped Q’uaina up. Still the mare did not move. Instead, it took a step towards them its hot breath steaming in the chill air.
“She’s healed, look at her side. There’s no trace of the wound,” Ossian’s voice broke the silence. “You have the gift butterfly girl. Erthe power surely quickens in your veins.”
The mare came up to them licking its lips and nickered softly. Q’uaina reached out and stroked the horse’s head. “Welcome back my beautiful one, welcome back.” Her heart sang.
Chapter 6
Sorrow
A short time later Q’uaina and Ossian were ready to continue on their way to Ossian’s village. They said their farewells to the mare and her foal and set off. It soon became apparent that the mare had other ideas. She followed them with her young one. She kept a short distance behind and showed no signs of going her own way.
“I think we’ve been adopted,” Ossian said finally after an hour or so.
“Yes, it looks that way, I felt a bond develop between us in the healing. It is strong, the tie that forms especially when the recipient is on the point of death.”
“Do you think she’ll let us ride her?” Ossian looked thoughtfully at the horse.
“She’s wild, unbroken, but she does seem to want our company.”
“And it would shorten our journey considerably,” Ossian said.
“It would also be more than enough for you to return with two horses, and a grand story to tell around the hearth of how you came by them and of how you slew that wolf…” Q’uaina added.
“I feel I’ve lived more in these last few days than in the past few years. It’s true what they say, our age is the age for adventure and for passage to manhood,” Ossian paused then quickly added, “and womanhood too.”
Q’uaina smiled. She approached the mare and whispered softly to her for a while rubbing her side and muzzle. The foal had grown used to them and stood contentedly beside its mother picking at the grass. Slowly, Q’uaina came around to the mare’s side and continued to stroke her flank. Ossian stood back and watched with interest.
Whilst talking gently to the mare, in one fluid movement Q’uaina jumped up and mounted her. Ossian tensed expecting the worst. He was stunned; the mare remained calm and took a few steps to adjust to the new weight on her back. The foal whinnied in surprise but settled once it saw how relaxed its mother was. Q’uaina continued her reassurances with soft words and soon had the mare responding to simple directions.
Ossian shook his head in wonder. “If only my father could see this, you’d put all our horse masters to shame.” He laughed and felt all the tension of the last few days lift from his shoulders. Yes, Q’uaina was right, this would make a fine story to tell around the home fire.
Soon after, the mare also allowed Ossian on her back. With Q’uaina directing the horse, they continued on their way northeast to Ossian’s home.
They had left the forests far behind and were now on high, heathery heathland. This was rolling and windswept country, barren but with expansive views of the low river valleys stretching away behind them. Rivers and lakes glittered far below. Clouds flew swiftly above their heads driven along by high winds. They had made good progress. The mare was strong, willing and full of vitality. It was as if the healing had also imparted some new strength within her. The little foal, not far off a yearling, trotted happily behind.
“We should have a name for her, and the foal,” Ossian said into Q’uaina’s ear.
“Yes, I agree. It’ll come, when the time is right. She’ll tell us, you’ll see.”
They rode on for some time then Q’uaina spoke. “What’ll you do once you return home?”
“Well, there’ll be a welcome, then I’ll need to prepare for my coming of age ceremony, we call it Ja’kdahr. Five of us set out; so once everyone is back with their completed quests, Ja’kdahr will be performed, together with a great feast. There will be roast boar, music and dancing. All the families come together for this celebration; it’s a happy time. There’ll be a speech by our chief. Then we receive the clan marking on our skin here, the mark of the bear,” Ossian indicated his upper arm to Q’uaina.
She took this all in and remained silent. Her thoughts turned to the next stage of her journey once they had reached Ossian’s village. She missed her own people, but knew the only way back into her clan was to follow Morvaine’s advice. She had not formally been banished and yet she was an outcast none the less.
She resolved to see things through. She would venture forth to the Shattered Hills; she would try and find the mysterious lore master that dwelt amongst the light walkers. Morvaine was right she felt different, not at peace since her journey to the Otherside. She carried something within, something unwelcome, something uninvited.
“This is Reaver country.” Ossian’s voice broke her reverie.
“Reavers, I have heard of them, they don’t trouble my people, but here this far north it is different?”
“They steal our cattle and sheep, they even attack our villages from time to time, they are a curse.” Ossian’s anger was palpable. “They’re not here this time of year, they come west when the pickings become less in the east. We usually have skirmishes with them towards summer’s end. They are ruthless murderers every last one of them, the only good Reaver is a dead one.” Ossian’s bitterness was deep and Q’uaina did not pursue the matter.
They travelled at a high level the rest of the day and made camp at a collection of rocks, which provided welcome shelter from the incessant wind. The weather had been dry and the ground was comfortable to sleep on. Deep heather provided some additional shelter from the wind.
After they had settled the horses, they lay in the heather’s soft embrace under the vast glittering sky. Wind moaned through the rocks and the heather whispered around them. They were exhausted and sleep claimed them in minutes.
They awoke to a misty dawn and had to rub the stiffness from their muscles. Breakfast consisted of water; the last of their food long since gone. This was of little concern as Ossian declared they were within a few hours of his village. Riding horseback had affected Q’uaina’s leg muscles and she had to grit her teeth once they were back on the mare on the final part of their journey.
They rode on at a steady pace through the rolling mist. Every now and then, it would clear and they would catch a glimpse of the way ahead. The terrain was slowly changing as they lost height. Ossian’s mood seemed to brighten the closer they came to his home. He started humming a tune to himself. Q’uaina smiled.
It was when they broke through the mist just before the tree line, that they first saw a pall of smoke in the distance. Ossian’s body immediately tensed.
“That’s coming from my village, what’s happened? I don’t like this,” his voice faltering.
“Reavers?” Q’uaina asked.
“No, no, they would never, they have never attacked like this, it’s the wrong time of year for a raid anyway, no… this is something else.”
Q’uaina had stopped the mare; they looked on in growing dismay at the thick, black smoke ahead.
“Ossian what do you want to do? I sense danger there.”
“We need to investigate, I need to investigate, Q’uaina you mu
st stay here. I’ll go on ahead.”
“No Ossian, I’m with you on this. We’ll go together. Together we are stronger. We should leave the horses and approach on foot.”
Ossian nodded his agreement. They set off and were soon in amongst the trees. All seemed well in the forest. Familiar sights and sounds greeted Ossian as they passed through. His senses were blind to the familiar however; his every fibre was tense, on the lookout for the least thing, anything out of place.
Then he saw it.
“Stop, look…” he indicated an animal print in the earth. He jumped down from the mare and stepped around the print examining it closely. “This is not from here,” he finally said. “This is a beast not known in these parts, it’s large, swift, stealthy… a hunter,” he scanned the undergrowth. “Look more prints,” Ossian started to follow the trail.
The mare’s nostrils flared and her eyes widened, she sensed danger. Q’uaina slid down from her back and soothed the horse, whispering soft words into her ear. The mare calmed and her foal in turn. Q’uaina backed away from the mare keeping eye contact. She used her clan’s hand speak to make it clear that she did not want the mare to follow them. Then she turned and softly followed Ossian onwards through the trees and to the village beyond.
Soon they had reached the forest edge. A short distance beyond lay the village, or what was left of it. Flames still burned fiercely in places, every building had been set alight. Then Ossian stood up and started running towards the settlement.
“Wait Ossian, wait!” Q’uaina’s plea was in vain. He disappeared into the swirling smoke that engulfed his village.
Q’uaina followed, being careful where she stepped. Acrid smoke burned her eyes. Then it parted and she saw Ossian. He was on his knees; his hands raised in grief. Before him on a makeshift gallows hung a row of bodies, all partially burned. Charred flesh, exposed bone and the copper tang of death pervaded the air.
Ossian was reaching out to the bodies imploring them to return to life. His grief, unimaginable. Tears stained his face. He wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock. Q’uaina found the scene deeply disturbing and she reached out to Ossian but then held back. He needed time, he needed to grieve. She looked around, there were no survivors. Whoever or whatever had done this had moved on. But to where and why?
Then Ossian spoke. “Mother, father, who did this to you? Why, why?”
Q’uaina’s heart understood in that moment that the bodies strung up in front of them were Ossian’s family. Her spirit ached, her memory flashed painfully. In another time and place, she looked inwards and saw herself as a child. Her mother and brother lying, stricken and claimed by the sickness that had come that summer. No one new why the taint had chosen them, just that it had been heralded by a black swan. Other families had been affected, many others had died. It was then that Q’uaina had known pain, loss and fear. She had never forgotten, it was always with her.
She felt Ossian’s pain and knew what would come next. Terrible anger and a need for revenge. Something stirred within the embers of her memory, something foreign and new.
This is all because of the Shiffante, they are the reason. Others seek to take Shiffante power; they are building strength against the Shiffante realm. It is they who have done this. It will never cease. Shiffante destroyed my people. They will eventually destroy you and yours. We must destroy them first. Follow this trail, it will be easy to find. Death walks in their wake. I will be here within, waiting.
The stirring calmed. Q’uaina shivered, contact, direct contact. Confusing, a message she did not understand. She did not panic, did not run. She had been waiting for this moment, this connection all along. She breathed and thought. Her mind turned the word over and over examining it from all sides. Looking for clues, looking for knowledge. Shiffante. Shiffante. The word tasted black, bitter, laced with hatred.
Chapter 7
Shattered Hills
“I will find them, whoever did this. They will suffer, they will pay. I swear this on my family’s spirit.” Ossian spoke in a clear, firm voice. He stood and went to the bonds that bound his parents’ wrists. He released them from the gallows and gently laid them down.
“I will send them to the sky the proper way, not like this.” Ossian spent the rest of the morning building a funeral pyre for his parents. He placed their bodies with great care on top of the wood and sprinkled fragrant meadow blooms between them. He then lit the fire at sunset. As the final rays of light departed from the Erthe, so were his parents’ spirits released to join their ancestors above.
Q’uaina sensed Ossian needed space and so she searched the rest of the village. The story was the same elsewhere. Bodies strung up and partially burned from fires beneath their feet. Murder, on a scale she could not comprehend. She tried to steel herself against the sights, the smell of death. She retreated to the horses after salvaging some unspoilt food from the village souterraine.
She had come across strange animal prints throughout the village similar to the ones they had found earlier. She wondered what manner of beast walked the Erthe in these parts and where had it come from. One thing was clear; Ossian’s assertion that this was not the work of the Reavers. If not them then who was responsible? Who were these Shiffante? Who were these others that her inner voice had alluded to?
Ossian did not return until the next morning. Q’uaina had returned to the horses back in the forest and had slept beside a stream a good distance from the village. Ossian had kept a vigil throughout the star filled night beside his parents’ funeral pyre. He had ensured their place among the ancestors. His tears were finished. He washed in silence beside the stream then joined Q’uaina for breakfast. She sensed his mood and they ate in silence.
Finally, Ossian spoke. “I would like to go with you to the Shattered Hills, maybe there’s an answer there. It’s as good a place to start as any, perhaps the light walkers you seek may know something of what has passed in these parts. I need to find those responsible and visit retribution upon them. This is my clan duty, my blood path.”
So speaks Ossian, so speaks the man. What a right of passage, mused Q’uaina.
“Yes, come with me to the light walkers, I’d welcome your company Ossian. Let’s go now.” They broke camp, packed their few supplies, and set off on their way.
Ossian took them northeast over rolling, grassy hills. Streams winding between the soft undulations filled the air with liquid sound. Birds sang in the trees and the sun shone above. All seemed right with the world, except they knew some new evil walked the Erthe.
“Look, there are those prints again.” Ossian pointed to one side.
“Like nothing I’ve seen, maybe a wildcat but much larger,” Q’uaina added.
“Wait! I remember something, in the bone fields, to the north. I recall my father saying there were ancient animal remains trapped in rocks. He saw their tracks in the same rock. What does this mean, could these be the same?”
“Strange things have been happening, the Erthe, she is restless. I can sense it. When did your father visit these bone fields and can you remember any other detail of what he told you? It may help us,” Q’uaina said.
Ossian thought a moment. “My father went there for his coming of age, he walked through the bone fields and returned with giant lizard teeth. They were made of stone but still sharp. He described fearsome skeletons locked in the rock, they had become one with the rock, their flesh gone. He also came across huge prints, again in some of the rocks. He mentioned large ones like these. When you said wildcat it reminded me. He thought the same too.”
“Something has made these forgotten beasts return, but for what purpose?” Q’uaina said.
They made good progress for the next two days and nights and finally came to a distinct change in the landscape. The rich soils of the verdant grasslands gave way to a broken, barren landscape, empty of life. The sky loomed close and glowered down on them. The wind picked up and blew small dust devils around their feet. It was noticeably cold.
“There, the Shattered Hills.” Ossian indicated a range of jagged peaks in the distance. “Distances are deceptive here, things are not as they seem. We should make them by nightfall.”
They pressed on walking for long stretches to rest the mare. She was performing well and seemed to have a deep well of strength. Her foal was good natured and strong, it had formed a bond with Ossian. When not butting his mother for attention it would flit back and forwards between him and the mare.
“The light walkers do not take kindly to strangers it is said, do you have currency here?” Ossian looked seriously at Q’uaina.
“Not exactly, but Morvaine, our clan healer gave me a mark that may let us pass unmolested. I need to find someone, the Beekeeper she told me. It’s him that I need to talk to.”
Ossian nodded and kept silent lost in his own thoughts. Some hours later they came to a good sized river and began searching for a safe place to cross. The sun was low in the sky and as Ossian searched the riverbank for a suitable spot he stopped. He felt an intense sense of familiarity, of memory and looked up. For a split second, as the sun’s rays danced on his eyelashes he saw, or thought he saw six translucent figures astride equally translucent horses on the far bank watching them. He looked directly at the apparition and it disappeared.
“Did you see…?”
“Yes, I saw something too,” Q’uaina replied tension lacing her voice.
“What do you want to do?”
She paused. “Well this is their territory, they can challenge us at any time. I suggest we carry on as we are and show no fear. They’ll let us know soon enough if what we do displeases them.”
From behind, they heard a growl. They turned. There, tensed to spring on the foal a short distance away was a cat like beast. Ossian felt his insides turn to liquid. He had never seen such an animal. It was huge with massive jaws and long, sabre like incisors. Its eyes were intent on the foal.
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