Shadow Soul

by R. Michael Card

  She shook her head. This was why she didn’t want any male attachments. It always got messy and complicated and frustrating. She hadn’t approached Volf about the possibility of helping her with a child, but the option was gaining some support in her musings. Over these past two weeks, Jais had seemingly grown closer to Elria and had seemed more standoffish with Caerwyn. She’d found it hard to talk to him with the other woman around and ended up frustrated more often than not. He just seemed… erratic. She couldn’t believe how he was fawning over Elria, and not even two months since his previous lover had died. It vexed her and stung a little. She’d thought she and Jais had had a connection. Something deeper than just being friends. They were both drahksani. Didn’t that mean something? But what did it mean? They’d never defined it. She just wasn’t sure of where they stood with each other, and that bothered her.

  So, she’d been spending more time with Volf, who was quiet and reserved. He seemed to be taking all the change he’d been going through in stride.

  Men. She doubted she’d ever understand them.

  She kicked the other two awake. “We’re going to head out soon. Get ready.”

  “Are we training this morning?” Volf had joined them in their morning and evening combat training sessions. He had a long way to go before he’d be anywhere near competent, but gods he was light on his feet and agile. He could bend and slip out of the way of nearly any attack.

  Caerwyn didn’t want to stay, she wanted to be moving, but it would be good for all of them to get the training in.

  “Yes. Once Jais gets back we’ll run through things, but quickly, I want to be on the road.” Not that they were on any road at all. They’d followed a bit of a road north out of Cold River, but after it had led to a few farms, it tapered off to a path, then nothing at all. They had sold their donkey and wagon at a small village over a week ago, for some provisions and supplies. They’d move quicker over the uneven terrain without it. Since then, they’d been trekking across rolling hills, higher and higher, with no sign of any one around at all. It was beautiful country, wild and lush, but as they rose into the foothills, the trees had noticeably changed. There were fewer, if any, of the trees with leaves. They had been replaced with tall pointy trees of the prickly leafless variety. Elria called them by various names, though the one word she’d used “evergreen” seemed to describe them best to Caerwyn.

  “Where’s Elria?” Barami asked as he started working on a fire.

  “We don’t know. We think she’s gone off to find her own people without saying goodbye.” Her tone was curt and hard. She didn’t want to snap at her old friend, but just couldn’t seem to settle herself.

  “Doesn’t seem right.”

  “I know!”

  Barami looked up at her. “You doing well?”

  She shook her head crouching next to him. “No. I can’t put my finger on what’s bothering me, and that’s bothering me even more. Elria leaving just seems wrong, and Jais doesn’t seem that worried.”

  “Certainly seems rude, and that’s not like the young woman. She was always polite.”

  “Were you that fond of her too?”

  Barami chuckled. “Oh, is that it?”

  “Is what what?”

  “You’re upset with Jais for getting close to the girl?”

  “I…” She moved her lips for several long moments with no sound coming out. Curse Barami. He knew her too well. Knew what she was feeling even when she didn’t. “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps? Just perhaps?” He chuckled some more. “You keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll believe it someday.”

  “Men!” She rose and stalked away.

  Breakfast was a silent affair.

  Training was rough. She was harsh on Jais and Volf, and neither appreciated it. Barami ended it after only a few bouts, and she was glad for that.

  By the time they’d been on the move for a few hours, she was only just beginning to feel her anxiety ease. The movement helped as did the crisp mountain air.

  That’s when they encountered their first human life in over a week. They were following a river along a valley floor as the valley itself rose into the mountains. They came around a rocky outcropping, and three burley men stood in their way. It was clear from the surly expression on the men’s faces as well as their weapons, out and ready, that they were not going to be friendly.

  They were all brawny men with beards that were braided into several long ropes and hair which grew long and shaggy. One of them had hair similar in color to Elria, fiery red. The other two were blond.

  The men called out to Caerwyn and the others as they drew close.

  “This be the land of the Dronnegir!” the tallest of the three shouted. “You be not permitted here. Turn back now.”

  Caerwyn raised her hands, empty. “Stay here,” she hissed over her shoulder to the others, then approached slowly. “I wish only to speak.”

  “Speak from there!” one of them responded. They didn’t raise their weapons, which was a good sign, but they didn’t look particularly inclined to talk either.

  “We are just passing through. We are in search of…” Should she tell them? If she remembered correctly Volf had said that his rumor had started with this clan, the Dronnegir. Would they be willing to help Caerwyn find the dragon? It didn’t look like it. She tried a vague approach. “In search of truth, high in those mountains.”

  “What truth?” This from the largest one again.

  She sighed. “Our quest is our own,” she said, her frustration from earlier that day returning.

  “We care not. If you wish to head north from here… you cannot.”

  Caerwyn shrugged. This was going nowhere. She dropped her hands and returned to the others. It was Volf she addressed, her voice low. “Do you think it wise to mention to these men we are in search of a dragon?”

  Volf looked a little stunned. He shrugged. I have only heard tales of the Dronnegir, and from all I’ve heard they are very private people. I don’t know what they might accept or not. Sorry.”

  Caerwyn put the question to the group. “What do we think? Tell them of the dragon? Fight them? Go back?”

  She didn’t want to go back. Though that would be just the perfect way for this particular day to go.

  “I wouldn’t recommend fighting,” Volf said. “One of the things I have heard about the Dronnegir is that they are brutal warriors.”

  “Great.” This from Jais.

  Barami seemed the only one with a level head. “Tell them of the dragon. See what they say. Perhaps they know of it? If they do not, perhaps this is a fool’s quest?”

  The resonant beating of that implacable sense of something north of here in her gut told her this wasn’t a fool’s quest. It had only grown stronger over the past two weeks. But she took Barami’s advice.

  She turned back to the men.

  “We seek a dragon! Do you know of one near here?”

  All three men seemed quite surprised at the mention of a dragon. They muttered among themselves for a moment, which was the most activity out of the group she’d seen. The largest one, probably the leader, responded after a moment.

  “No.”

  Well that ended quickly.

  “Thank you for your help!” she called out to the men. It was mostly sarcasm, but she hoped they wouldn’t take too much offence at that.

  She returned to the others.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  “I have an idea,” Volf said. “For now, let’s all turn around and leave before any or all of them get antsy.”

  “There are only three” She felt comfortable that her group could win an encounter with the brutes.

  It was Barami who told her. “Take a look back, but up on the ridges on either side of the valley. We didn’t think you’d seen them.”

  She glanced back, looking upward this time. On either side of the valley, just above where the three men stood, there were more burly men and women. Each side seemed to have a gr
oup of three or four or more; it was hard to tell from this angle. She wouldn’t have seen them if she’d looked up from her previous vantage point, but the Dronnegir had a good angle down on all of them.

  “It seems,” Barami said softly. “They really do not want us to go past this point.”

  But Caerwyn could only wonder. Elria was of these people, that was obvious enough from the look of them all. Had she fled in the middle of the night to tell her people that Caerwyn and her group were coming? Was she the one behind them being blocked?

  That itching at the base of her neck returned as did her surly mood.

  This was not going to be a good day.

  12

  “They’re hiding something. Did you see the way they whispered to each other when you mentioned the dragon? They are trying to keep us away.” Volf was adamant.

  The feeling in his gut, the deep beating of some heady call, had only been growing as he headed north. It was too much now to ignore. He glanced at Caerwyn and he saw it in her eyes too.

  “That did seem odd,” Jais said.

  They were all well out of earshot of the barbarians now, heading back out of the valley they’d been in.

  “Exactly. I say we find another way around. Skirt this valley, give it a wide berth, and head north.

  It was the dark-skinned human, Barami, who spoke next. “I don’t know what you’re all feeling but let me remind you that those men back there didn’t seem the understanding type. If they find us in their lands again I doubt they’ll be as… friendly as they were this time. I’m not saying we shouldn’t go, I’m saying we should consider our next actions carefully.”

  Volf had to agree. He wasn’t usually one to run in without being prepared. Yet he did find himself anxious to get going, to find whatever was pulling at him.

  “I have ways of keeping myself hidden, perhaps I could scout ahead and make sure the way is clear?”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Caerwyn said. She was smiling at him and he felt his whole spirit lift with that look. There was so much about her which was different from other women, and that spoke to a place deep within him. He too was far different than anyone he’d ever known. He felt a certain kinship with her and hoped she shared it.

  “What is it you two are feeling?” Jais asked softly. There was something in his voice, a curiosity? No, perhaps more of a concern or uncertainty.

  Caerwyn replied, “It’s hard to describe, it’s like…” She put a hand over her stomach. “A heavy feeling here. But more than heavy, it beats in time with my own heart, but stronger somehow. And it feels like it’s pulling me… northward somewhere. Why?”

  Jais stopped. “I think I might be feeling it too.”

  Caerwyn also stopped. “Really? But you’ve never felt any pull to drahksani before.”

  He grimaced. “I am well aware of that, which is why this feels so strange. I had to know what you both were feeling to see if perhaps I was feeling it too. I think I am, but it’s still faint for me. But it’s like you say, a throbbing… here, in my gut, pulling me.” He too put his hand over his stomach.

  Volf watched as something in Caerwyn’s eyes gleamed to life at Jais’ words. Yet those glimmering eyes turned to him just a moment later.

  “Then we must be on the right track. If Jais can feel it, it must be something stronger than a drahksan. It has to be a dragon and with all three of us, I’m sure we’ll be able to find it,” she said, with an urgency in her voice which echoed what was in his soul.

  “Yes,” was his only reply.

  Barami sighed heavily. “Well come on then, let’s find another way around and see if we can’t bypass these redheaded brutes.” There was something in the man’s voice. Volf turned to him, as they continued on down the valley.

  “You almost sound like you want to get caught by these men?” he asked the man.

  “Caught? No. And I don’t want to fight them either, but…” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. I won’t bother you with the details. I guess I was just hoping they would be more welcoming. I’d thought…” He let out a long breath then grimaced. “It’s nothing, don’t worry yourself.”

  Volf shrugged; he wouldn’t.

  Volf’s heart was pounding.

  It was late afternoon by the time they’d found another way north which they hoped would take them around the barbarian’s lands. This time they were moving along a high ridge where the western side fell away steeply. Some spots were a sheer cliff, but most of the ridge was a grassy incline up to the tip. The eastern side fell away much more gradually and that’s the side they traveled along.

  They hoped the barbarians, which were to the west now, wouldn’t see them moving along the higher ground if they stayed on the eastern side of the ridge, but that didn’t stop Volf from worrying. He wasn’t a fighter and if those men found them…

  He wasn’t using his ability to go unseen at the moment. It was always a little harder to do during the day, in full light. He hoped that the ridge between them and the barbarians would be enough to keep all of them from sight.

  The sun set in the early evening in the mountains, falling behind the jagged peaks to the west. Light still lingered for a while before full dark, as the mountains themselves seemed to glow from behind.

  Caerwyn had said they’d keep moving until near dark and would forgo training, perhaps even a fire, so as not to draw any attention with noise or light.

  The entire group was tense as they slipped farther and farther north. The mountains to the east seemed quite close. The eastern side of the ridge they traversed descended into a valley thick with evergreen’s, then up the other side ascending to a gray peak far above them. From what Volf could determine the mountains around them seemed to be funneling them to a single point somewhere north and west of them now. And that was where he was being pulled.

  Perhaps it was the pull, or the fading light, or his desire to glance over at Caerwyn when he could, but he was completely caught off guard when a tall woman rose from behind some large rocks to his right and grabbed him.

  Even as it happened, he heard Caerwyn’s voice behind him. “Ambush!”

  Instinct, years of escaping and evading, kicked in.

  The barbarian had a hold of his arm, her hand like a vice. He shrugged, shrank, and slipped from her hold. The ‘shrinking’ wasn’t truly him entirely reducing in size, it was more a way he could move… within himself. He’d made his arm smaller for just a moment. He could do this to his entire body if he needed to fit into tight spaces, small places, but that took a lot of energy. Once he was out of her grip, it was easy to evade her.

  He slipped into his shadow-self and she backed off with a clipped yelp. Then he tumbled away to a small copse of trees, keeping his shadow-self extended around him.

  When he turned back to the others, he saw them in a pitched fight.

  Once he was safely at the trees, he dropped his shadow-self and hid normally behind a tree, watching his new companions.

  “We don’t wish to fight you or hurt you!” Caerwyn called out. The three of them were surrounded by eight of the barbarians, they were being compressed into a smaller and tighter space as they fought only defensively. Volf gaped a little at the battle prowess of his friends. He knew that he was a long way off in his training from being where they were, but that hadn’t fully sunk in until now.

  Barami made wide slashes with his long, thick blade, keeping the attackers at bay. That wasn’t as impressive as the simple fluidity with which he wielded that large weapon with only one hand. He looked calm, relaxed even, and his motions were smooth and easy. Volf had the feeling Barami would be able to keep this up for a while.

  Jais had less finesse. There was a certain flow and style to his twin swords, but he was more erratic and frantic than Barami. Perhaps that was part of that style or his lack of experience. Volf didn’t know which.

  Then there was Caerwyn. She was perfection in combat. Her sword was shorter than any she was going up against, but in a de
fensive action that seemed to work just fine. She wasn’t trying to get in close and score a hit, only make sure their blades didn’t get anywhere near her. And at that, she was masterful. Between her sword and shield, the blows raining down on her were shed like rain off a tin roof.

  “Please! Stop!” Caerwyn called again. “We do not wish to fight you, but we will if you force us!”

  One of the attackers shouted out. “You ignored our warning. You had your chance to turn back. You will see no mercy!”

  So, these ones knew about the engagement earlier that day. Their communication between patrols must be impressive.

  “Stop!”

  This wasn’t from Caerwyn, but one of the barbarians. The tall woman who had grabbed him initially had only just joined the others in the assault but hadn’t even started to fight. She’d taken one look at Barami and called out to the others.

  There was a pause in the fighting.

  “What is it Hildr?” one of the men asked. Everyone was tense, ready.

  Volf wasn’t going to wait.

  He slipped into his shadow-self once again and sprinted out to where the others were. Once there, he slipped up behind Caerwyn and touched her. Concentrating, he included her in his shadow-self, making her vanish within wisps of shadow, at least that’s what the others would see.

  There was commotion, shouting

  “Trust me,” he whispered to Caerwyn now that she could see him. “Come, this way!” He ran off again, and she followed. It did not take long to reach the copse of trees again. Once there he dropped the shadow-self.

  “Can you go back for the others?” Caerwyn asked looking back.

  Volf hedged. He could but… “I can only take one at a time. Also, if we wanted to flee farther from here while still unseen, I wouldn’t be able to hide us all.” He peered out past her. “I don’t think they are in any danger now. It seems they’re talking. We can keep an eye on them if we need to free them.”

  “Suur’s sweaty sack!” Caerwyn swore under her breath.

  Volf raised a single brow at the profanity.

  “I only came with you because I thought you could get us all to safety. I should be back there with them. They won’t last long against so many hardened warriors.” Caerwyn was upset. He’d hoped she’d have appreciated saving her, but she was loyal to her friends. That was a concept he had little experience with having lived alone for so long.