Beyond The Vale

by Brian D. Anderson

  “You look…stunning,” he finally managed to whisper.

  She gave him an inviting smile and gestured to the pillows. “Nelwyn clothing suits you. I hope you’re hungry. The Nelwyn helped me prepare it.”

  He could not tear his eyes away from her.

  “Come on,” she urged when he did not move. “They went to a great deal of trouble. It would be rude not to enjoy it.”

  Drake nearly tripped over his own feet, only just preventing the wine from spilling.

  “So you approve of the dress?” she asked. Her movements were slow and sultry, her eyes filled with lustful desire. - Drake nodded - “In Nelwyn tradition, when a woman chooses her mate, a meal is prepared and a dress made from what is called zalis cloth.”

  Drake took a sip of wine. “You learned this while I was away?”

  “I learned many things. The Nelwyn are a very open and friendly people.” “And what happens once the meal is over?”

  “That depends on whether the mate she has chosen accepts her. If he does not, the dress is burned and another made when she chooses someone else.”

  “If he accepts?” His heart was pounding so fiercely he could barely hear her voice. “Then she allows him to keep the dress. Or better put, she allows him to take it.”

  They ate in silence, gazing into one another’s eyes, each bursting with carnal anticipation. When they finished, she rose and placed the dishes just outside. Drake got up to help, but she smiled and pushed him playfully back onto the pillows.

  “You’ve served me for as long as I can remember,” she said. “Allow me to return the kindness.”

  Drake’s desire was bordering on painful. Every step, every tiny motion she made was perfection. When the remains of the meal were cleared, he could no longer contain himself. He stood and wrapped his arm around her waist and crushed her lips to his. He could feel her body respond, yielding to his touch, the beating of her heart matching the ferocity of his own, their hands searching one another as if for the first time.

  When they parted, her eyes were closed and her head fell back. Drake felt dizzy for a moment, lost in his passion. His breath came in short gasps.

  As if waking from a dream, her eyes opened and she smiled up at Drake, brushing her hand across his cheek. “You have no idea how lonely I felt, not having you with me.”

  Drake slipped his hands up her bare arms. “Then I will never leave you again.”

  As he pushed the dress from her shoulders, she reached up and stopped him. “If you do this, you are mine,” she said, with a mischievous tone and lighthearted smile. “The Nelwyn consider this a spiritual bond. In essence, one more move of your hand and you will have wed the Queen of Vale. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Taking her hand, Drake kissed her palm. A moment later the dress fell to the floor.

  How long their passion lasted he could not tell. Consumed by their mutual desire and love, time lost its meaning. It wasn’t until the faint light of the coming dawn crept through the thin opening at the tent’s entrance that their lust was slaked. Even then, they refused to release one another from their embrace, bodies glistening with sweat, contented in a way Drake had never thought possible.

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” said Lenora, her head nestled against him. “I wish there was no such place as Vale.”

  “So do I.” He pushed a stray hair from her face and kissed her brow. “We could just run away. Find a little plot of land and hide.”

  She smiled, moaning at the temptation. “It would be wonderful. But I think they’d come looking.”

  “Yes. But it would take them a while to find us.” “If only we could.”

  “Maybe one day,” he said, to himself as much as to Lenora.

  He knew it was an impossible dream. Still, why ruin it? They had this time. This moment. Even if there were never another like it. He would keep its memory alive in his heart – every image, every sensation, until his final breath.

  * * *

  “Lenora.”

  Drake wanted it to be a bad dream. Surely it was not time. They had both just closed their

  eyes.

  He peeled open one eye. Lenora was still asleep, her arm draped across his chest. “Are you awake?” the voice persisted.

  Lenora stirred and groaned drowsily. “No. Go away.”

  “I’m sorry. But you asked me to come if you were not back by midday.” Lenora grabbed a pillow and pulled it over her head. “Make him go away.” A head poked in. It was Krigar. He smiled at Drake.

  “You’re alive.”

  Drake frowned in return. “You won’t be if you don’t get out.”

  Lenora slapped him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be bad-tempered. He’s right. I told him to wake us if we were not back by noon.”

  “He can still get out while we get dressed.” Krigar laughed and made a hasty retreat.

  “I guess it’s time to rejoin the real world,” said Drake sourly.

  Lenora stretched and yawned. “A pity. I wasn’t quite done with you when you fell off to sleep.” She reached over and pinched his ribs.

  Drake chuckled. “I guess I’m not the man I once was.”

  “You are more than enough for me.” She waved him away. “Now get dressed. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

  Drake put on the Nelwyn clothing, though chose his boots over the soft shoes. Lenora donned a shirt and trousers more suited for travel, though she made a point of folding the dress and giving it to Drake.

  “You have to keep it as proof of our union,” she told him.

  Drake placed it carefully in his pack, and together they exited the tent. Six Nelwyn, two men and four women along with Krigar, were waiting patiently.

  “So this is the one you have told us about?’ asked a tall red-haired woman with a stern disposition.

  “This is Drake Sharazi,” announced Lenora. “He is mine, according to your traditions, so is to be treated as such.”

  Drake had no idea what this meant. But as each of them bowed, he did so in return.

  Lenora recounted the events in the Bomar camp, explaining the peace arrangement decided

  upon.

  “Time will tell if they live up to their word,” said Krigar. “But that is a concern for another day. Our people are gathering for their march on Vale. Maliel will lead them to the edge of the wastes and wait for us to arrive.”

  “You’ve been busy,” remarked Drake.

  “Once it was clear the Bomar were finished, the Nelwyn decided to begin preparations,” Lenora explained.

  “You should go,” said one of the women. “You’re not coming?” asked Drake.

  “They’re here to receive the Bomar message and take it to our people who are watching the towns,” said Krigar. “But I will be coming.”

  They all bowed once more to Lenora and Drake and then began taking down the tent. Krigar waved for them to follow, but the tall woman caught Lenora’s arm and whispered something into her ear. Lenora stiffened, a strange look on her face.

  “What did she say?” asked Drake, once they were underway. “Nothing important,” she replied, clearly distracted.

  Drake knew better than to pry, so he changed the subject. “Back at the Bomar camp, you said you failed with the Nelwyn.”

  “I did,” she affirmed. “That is to say, I found that they could not learn to use mana as we

  do.”

  “So what was the new weapon the Bomar said they had? I assumed it was magic.” “It was. But not what you’ve seen before.”

  Drake raised an eyebrow. “New magic?”

  “In a way. You see, mana flows through the Nelwyn differently. They use it to keep crops healthy, to purify their drinking water, and to cure disease and treat injuries. And their connection is many times stronger than I guessed at first. But where I draw mana from the air around me, theirs is centered in the earth. It’s why they can control the vex crystals – keep them stable or allow them to rupture.”

  “So you w
ere using vex crystals?”

  She shot him an irritated look. “If you will stop trying to guess, I’ll tell you.” Drake smiled apologetically.

  “Now, then. The way Nelwyn use mana may not seem to be useful in a fight. But that is only because their concept of war was learned from the Bomar. It simply never occurred to them to use it for anything other than survival. I was trying to teach them to channel mana in a way they could not. But once I learned how they did it, I understood what I was doing wrong. Instead of creating fire and lightning, they only needed to focus on the thing they had been focusing on for generations. The earth.”

  “I still don’t understand? How did they use the earth as a weapon?”

  “It was easy. After I had explained what they needed to do, they sent people out to find the Bomar. When they did, they caused the ground to open up and swallow them whole. It was quite terrifying the first time I witnessed it. Four hundred soldiers gone in a manner of seconds. Not a trace of them left behind.”

  Drake’s jaw went slack. “Four hundred? How could anyone channel so much mana?” “No single person can. But that’s another thing they can do that we cannot. The Nelwyn

  can combine their power. It only took ten Nelwyn to defeat four hundred Bomar.” The implications were staggering. “How many can combine at once?”

  “I don’t know. Ten was as many as I’ve seen. But I suppose there may be no limit. If there isn’t, with enough Nelwyn, it’s possible they could bury the entire city of Troi.”

  Drake shook his head. “All that power. And they never knew.” It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. And enemy like that could reign unchallenged. They would make Salazar look childlike by comparison.

  Lenora could see his unease. “I’m only speculating. There very well may be limits to how many Nelwyn can combine their strength. So far there’s been no reason to find out.”

  “My people would never give you cause to fear us,” Krigar interjected.

  “I know,” said Lenora. “But the people of Vale are like the Bomar in one important respect.

  When they gain power, they use it. They will not understand that the Nelwyn would not.” “And yet you hope to save them?”

  “Yes. But more than that, I hope to change them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “It’s right behind us,” came the frightened voice of the young girl staring through Shel’s rear window. “It’s going to catch us.”

  “The hell it is,” said Samuel.

  The hellspawn was about fifty yards back, spitting and snarling, its clawed feet churning up hunks of rock and clay with each long stride.

  He could easily outrun it. The damn things were fast, no question. But Shel…nothing could outrun her. Of course that would mean leaving the cargo truck just ahead of him carrying twenty men, women, and children to be torn apart. The three girls in the back and two boys up front ranged from six to sixteen years old. He was regretting putting the older children behind him at this moment. Neither of the young ones could steer or reach the accelerator.

  He pressed the mana pad and brought up the map. Still two miles to go. Damn, damn, damn. The pistol tucked between the console and the seat was nearly empty. Three shots left…he thought. Maybe two. Either way, it wasn’t enough to bring the beast down. The dusty gravel that led to the barrier was slowing the truck. In a few more seconds he’d need to make a terrible choice. “Why are you slowing down?” shouted a dark-haired girl, the oldest among his passengers.

  “Keep quiet,” he shot back. “I need to concentrate.”

  He eased off the accelerator a bit more, drawing the creature closer. The children were frantic, but he forced himself to ignore them. He’d seen what a hellspawn could do, having discovered the last truck one had caught. He would never forget it. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it happen again.

  The black soulless eyes were bearing down on them. There was nothing but untethered rage in its corrupted mind. He had felt pity for them when he’d initially discovered what they were, but not anymore. There was no time for pity. Only survival.

  He veered left once it was within ten yards of catching them. For a moment he thought it had worked, the hellspawn following for a few strides, but then it turned back to the truck.

  There was only one thing left he could try.

  “I want everyone to listen,” he yelled over the roar of the tires on gravel. “Whatever happens, do not get out of the car. Do you hear me? No matter what, stay inside Shel.”

  He pushed Shel faster, taking a hard left then turning back around in a wide loop. He’d need to time it perfectly. He rubbed his hand across the dash. “Sorry about this, girl.”

  The hellspawn was rapidly gaining on the truck. The passengers were huddled together, screaming and crying as their death approached with relentless persistence. It wasn’t just that the hellspawn killed that inspired fear. It was the way they did it – ripping bodies apart one piece at a time, then pounding and thrashing their flesh until they were unrecognizable as ever having been a living person.

  He stomped the accelerator to the floor, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. “Hang on. It’s about to get bumpy.”

  The hellspawn was almost able to reach out and touch the tailgate. An odd little thought rushed through his head. Father is not going to be happy. This drew a smile and a short laugh.

  Even on the soft terrain, Shel was fast. Hopefully fast enough to do the job. He let out a feral yell just as the hellspawn turned its head. The impact threw him forward, smacking his face and torso against the wheel. Shel slid sideways, two tires lifting from the ground, and then slammed back down again. He turned left, trying to regain control, but something struck the passenger door,

  sending her into a spin. After a few more yards, Shel came to an abrupt halt. Had they hit something? The answer rose from outside the door, back into their line of sight. Rather than flipping over the top, the hellspawn had been pushed along the ground. Black fluid oozed from its arms and body from multiple injuries. But it was far from being incapacitated.

  Samuel put her in reverse, but the hellspawn rammed its body into the door. The force was enough to raise the wheels, denying the tires traction. Another blow sent Shel completely over. The children were screaming wildly, the younger ones calling for their mothers. Shel’s body shuddered, and the hellspawn pounded on the undercarriage and kicked at the doors. In seconds the windows shattered. The pistol had slipped from between the seats and was lying on the roof beside his head.

  “Oh, well,” he muttered, blowing out a hard breath and grabbing the weapon. “I guess there are worse ways to go.” Though he couldn’t think of one.

  Shel’s tough exterior would keep the hellspawn out for a little while, but not indefinitely. If it reached for the door, it was over. It would yank it free, and the children would be torn apart. Luckily the beasts were not too bright, and it hadn’t figured this out yet.

  Samuel twisted his body until his feet were pointed to the window. He kicked with all his strength. But the mana-enforced glass was too strong. “Cover your ears.”

  He pulled the trigger. In the contained space, the shot was jarring. On the plus side, it had shattered the glass, and with a few more kicks he was able to slide out and crouch down where the beast could not see him.

  His hands were trembling, and his adrenalin was threatening to send him into a panic. Lowering his head, he took a quick look at the children. He needed courage. But looking at the terrified faces of those he was trying to save didn’t work.

  Then I guess you’ll die crying, he thought.

  He stood and shouted: “Hey, gruesome! Come and get me.”

  He spun and burst into a run toward the barrier. But after only a few steps he realized the hellspawn had not followed. It was still intent on reaching the children.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Leveling the pistol, he took careful aim. Not the head, he thought. Skull is too thick. He squeezed the trigg
er. The bullet tore into its flesh, but not where he’d intended, missing the heart by several inches. But it was definitely enough to get its attention. Samuel fired again, but there was nothing but the click of an empty chamber.

  “I guess it was two shots left,” he said, dropping the weapon as he turned to run.

  It was a pointless exercise, and he knew it. The ground shook as the hellspawn gave chase.

  It would only be a few seconds until it was all over.

  A strange calm washed over him, and Samuel stopped and turned back around. Better to face death head on, some quiet inner voice told him. In the end, you can’t outrun it.

  It was nearly upon him when a shot rang out. Thick black blood splattered across the beast’s face as a bullet hole appeared in its left cheek. In rapid succession, three more wounds opened up in its chest. The hellspawn stumbled and veered right, waving its talons in a wild fury. Five more shots, and it dropped to its knees with a heavy thud. It blew out a snort and heaved a grunt, then collapsed face first to the ground.

  Samuel staggered back. He could hear voices shouting behind him, but could not turn around. Less than thirty seconds, later two men raced by on foot toward Shel, and a pair of firm hands touched his shoulder.