Heritage Of The Xandim

by Maggie Furey

They rode back in silence, deep in thought. As they left the woodland behind and headed up towards the stables, they were no nearer a solution. Then, just as they were passing Corisand’s paddock, Kelon’s expression suddenly cleared and he pulled his mount to a halt. ‘I’ve got it! The perfect solution - at least I hope it is.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Aelwen demanded, catching his excitement.

  A grin slowly spread across Kelon’s face. ‘I know a way for us to steal some of Tiolani’s flying spell. Once all the horses have gone up to the palace courtyard for the Hunt, we’ll follow them with our own beasts and hide them just inside the tunnel mouth.’ He was talking fast with excitement. ‘You’ve seen Tiolani’s flying magic in action. She lacks the control over the spell that her father had. The enchantment extends much further, and it’s very diffuse round the edges. Instead of having proper boundaries, it continues to spread until it eventually fades away due to a lack of targets. So if we hide our horses inside the tunnel mouth, when she casts the spell we should be in range.’

  ‘Kelon, you’re brilliant - absolutely brilliant!’ Aelwen felt excitement bubbling up inside her. ‘As soon as the Hunt leaves, we’ll fly away ourselves in a different direction, keeping low above the treetops. Before the spell wears off, we’ll be far away - and since they will be expecting us to have escaped on foot, they’ll never imagine we could travel that distance, and they’ll be looking for us much closer to the city. This could work, Kelon, it could really work. We might have a fighting chance to get away after all. Presuming that your wonderful plan works and we do escape, shall we head for Tyrineld and throw ourselves on the mercies of the Wizards?’

  ‘I think that’s our best option,’ Kelon agreed. ‘In fact, it’s our only option.’

  ‘Come on, then,’ Aelwen said. ‘Let’s not waste any more time. We’ve lots to do to get the horses ready for the Hunt tonight, not to mention putting together all the stuff we’ll need for our escape. Sunset will be on us before we know it.’

  They went out of the stable, leaving a stunned and horrified Corisand behind them. Aelwen and Kelon were leaving? Tonight? But now that Hellorin was gone, they were the only ones she could tolerate and trust. There was no alternative. Somehow, she would have to find a way to escape, as soon as possible. It they were heading for Tyrineld and the Wizards, she wanted to go with them, but as the hours wore on she found no inspiration. Hellorin valued his horses highly. He had made every possible effort to safeguard against their theft or escape. All too soon, the sun was dipping towards the horizon, and she was no closer to a solution.

  When Kelon came for her, she couldn’t have been more surprised. Driven by curiosity, and the hope that he might reveal more of his and Aelwen’s plans in her hearing, she let him put a halter on her with unaccustomed meekness, and suffered herself to be led from the far paddock that she had occupied for so long, leaving the mares and their foals looking curiously after her over the fence. She was taken up to the main stable block, which was bustling with the frantic activity that always accompanied the preparations for the Wild Hunt. But surely they couldn’t mean for her to join the Hunt?

  Apparently that was exactly what they were intending. She was so aghast that she actually let Kelon lead her into a stall and tether her, and he had started to groom her before it occurred to her to take any action. Corisand was furious. Why, without any warning, had she been brought in from the paddock? Why was Kelon grooming her so carefully? And why the saddle and bridle? Hellorin had not recovered - she had been listening very carefully to the talk around the stables, and if there had been any change, she certainly would have heard. That could only mean another rider - but these stupid Phaerie should know perfectly well that the Forest Lord was the only one who could ride her! Who else would dare to attempt such a thing? Corisand came to the conclusion that it could only be Tiolani, and this . . . this . . . travesty was the upshot of the girl’s visit to the stable that morning. It did not take her long to discover that she was right. Out of earshot of Aelwen and Kelon, she overheard the lowly human grooms making wagers about Tiolani’s continued good health, using what scanty items they possessed. From their talk, it was clear that the Hemifae were not the only ones who feared Hellorin’s daughter.

  ‘I hate that bitch. She gives me the shivers, the way she looks at us all. For two pins, I reckon, she’d have us all dead, like those poor buggers in the forest.’

  ‘Bet you my gloves that she doesn’t last more than a dozen heartbeats tonight.’

  ‘What? That long? I bet you my belt with the brass buckle that our Corisand’ll have her on the ground in five.’

  ‘Whose heartbeats? Yours or mine?’ Corisand heard laughter.

  Five heartbeats, eh? she thought grimly. She’ll be lucky if she lasts that long.

  When she was almost ready, Aelwen joined Kelon in her stall. Though they spoke in very low voices, Corisand strained her ears to listen above the stable’s raucous din.

  ‘What about the horses?’ he asked her.

  ‘They’re in the smaller stable,’ she replied. ‘They’re ready to go. Let’s get this lot moving out, then we’ll follow at a distance, so they won’t hear us coming behind. You take Corisand out for Tiolani, and I’ll wait in the tunnel mouth with the horses. I only hope this works, Kelon.’

  ‘It’ll work. It has to.’

  In that moment, a flash of inspiration came to Corisand. This was her own chance to escape - and even better, it was on the same night as Aelwen and Kelon intended to flee Eliorand. Her mind raced, as a whole treasure chest of possibilities opened before her. Why, if she thought this through, she might even be able to find a way to cause a distraction to help them get clean away! Somehow, it made her feel a great deal less alone to know that the two Hemifae would also be making a run for it. Maybe she could even find them, and play the dumb horse for a while longer while she let them take her with them to Tyrineld. If anyone could free her from this imprisonment in her equine form, surely it must be the Wizards.

  In the fading daylight, the Windeye’s excitement was like a blazing beacon - but its fire could not burn brightly enough to wipe out the shadows of her fear.

  25

  OUT OF THE DARK

  Iriana and her companions were late making camp that night. Over the last few days they had moved steadily onward into the heart of the forest, climbing all the time as the land rose steadily towards the flanks of the mountains. After following the course of the river for so long, the road had finally veered away and the look and feel of the terrain was changing as oak, birch and chestnut began to be mixed with aspen, maple, pine and spruce. Even the sound of the forest was different, Iriana mused, as her tired horse trudged up the trail. The flutter and rustle of the breeze through the broad-leaved trees was now mingled with a rushing whisper that rose and fell like the sound of the sea, as the cool, resin-spiced wind soughed through the soaring branches of the conifers.

  Though every one of Iriana’s senses combined with the vision of her animals in showing her surroundings of heart-lifting beauty, she’d had enough for one day, and wished with all her heart that Esmon would find a campsite and let her rest. Now that they were nearing the borders of the Phaerie realm - for tomorrow they would be entering that hostile territory - the Warrior was determined to find a spot in which the travellers and their horses would be invisible from the air. There would be no more comforting campfires from now on, either. Not while there was a risk of the Wild Hunt riding overhead.

  The sun was sinking into a leaden mass of dense grey cloud that was stacking around the southern and western horizon, and Iriana felt a shiver of foreboding.

  ‘We’d better hurry up and find somewhere to camp, Esmon,’ she said. ‘It looks as if there’s a storm on the way.’

  ‘We can’t stop until I find a safe place,’ the implacable voice floated back over Esmon’s shoulder. ‘We’re too near the border and I want us hidden from the Hunt. Better tired now than dead before morning.’

  Avithan sighed
. ‘We can’t argue with that.’

  Boreas, the great eagle, would be ready to land and rest for the night, and Iriana called him down to her arm, planning to transfer him to his perch on the back of the packhorse, which Avithan was currently leading. But to her astonishment, there was no response from the bird.

  This had never happened before. Iriana, concerned, abandoned the vision of her horse and flung her mind into the skies, searching for the errant one. He made the link with reluctance, barely acknowledging her presence, almost brushing her away. Grimly, she held on, looking out through his eyes, trying to see where he was and why he had strayed.

  Iriana gasped at the soaring white peaks that surrounded them in stunning grandeur. Boreas had sped north, to the mountains beyond the Phaerie realm. Iriana’s heart sank. Deep inside she knew why he had flown so far afield. She would do anything not to face the truth, but unfortunately, there was no choice. He had followed an imperative even more urgent than his loving bond with her. Whirling and tumbling around him was another eagle - and she sensed from his mind that it was a female. Boreas, the lonely, solitary creature who’d been taken so far from his natural home had returned at last. And he’d found a mate.

  He was going to leave her. Her heart breaking, Iriana remained a part of their dizzy courtship dance as the pair swirled and spun, looped and circled and soared, going higher and higher until even the mighty peaks looked like insignificant hillocks beneath them. Then suddenly they locked claws and fell together in a flutter of wings and racing heartbeats. Iriana tore herself away then, leaving them to find a suitable ledge and mate at last; to build their nest and rear their chicks.

  Eagles mated for life.

  He wouldn’t be coming back.

  ‘Iriana, what’s wrong?’ She felt Avithan’s arms around her, and the hot flood of tears that were soaking her face. ‘Esmon, stop. Something’s happened to Iriana.’

  When she choked out her news they were kind and sympathetic, but how could they possibly know how much this meant to her; how deeply she felt the separation? She had been closely linked with the bird since Boreas was hatched. Yet even as she grieved for her loss, Iriana felt a sense of immense pride. Boreas had found his own mate, his own life. In bringing him on this journey she had brought him home, to his own world. He had found a mate, and one day his offspring would wheel among the peaks, fishing in the sparkling mountain lakes.

  After a time, Melik helped her pull herself together by sticking his claws into her arm with high-pitched wails of irritation.

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Avithan demanded.

  ‘Shut him up, for goodness sake,’ Esmon added.

  ‘He wants his supper, and a nice, cosy tent instead of a moving horse,’ Iriana replied.

  ‘He has my sympathy.’ Avithan fidgeted and stretched in the saddle. ‘I want exactly the same things.’

  ‘Don’t we all?’ Iriana said ruefully. ‘Esmon, surely we can’t go much further?’

  ‘What do you want me to do? I can’t find a place.’ For the first time since they had set out on their journey, Esmon sounded worried.

  The clouds were moving inexorably towards them, and shadowy dusk lurked beneath the thick boughs on either side of the path. The horses were stumbling with weariness.

  When darkness fell, the Wild Hunt would ride, and they were out, unprotected, on the open trail.

  Iriana hesitated, then spoke. ‘Esmon, perhaps I can find somewhere for us. Seyka can look further off the trail.’

  ‘At this point, I’d be willing to consider anything.’

  Iriana let an impatient Seyka out of her basket. She stroked the bird, running her hands over the soft white feathers. At least Seyka had stayed with her. The white owl gripped the wicker rim with her claws, stretched her wings a time or two, and floated, silent as a ghost, away into the woods.

  Iriana pushed her horse alongside Avithan’s mount. ‘Keep an eye on Dailika, will you, please? I’m going to link with Seyka and take a look around, or we’ll never find anywhere to stop tonight. Maybe there’s a camping place further from the road.’

  Avithan nodded. ‘Do you want me to lead her?’

  ‘No, I can trust her to follow her companions - she’s trained to do that. Just be there to grab her bridle if anything spooks her.’

  Iriana let herself share the owl’s vision for a few moments as she hunted. The world lost its colour as she made the link, turning monochrome as she flew with Seyka, swooping and banking low beneath the trees. Every detail: each flake of bark, each vein of a leaf, every single blade of grass had become absolutely clear and distinct; the keen eyes of the bird searching for any unusual movement that might betray the presence of prey.

  With a little more difficulty, she concentrated hard and tuned into Seyka’s hearing, which was far more acute than her own. Each tiny rustle, each buzz of gnat and fly, the breathing and heartbeats of the horses, their riders and the tiny creatures in the undergrowth: all were magnified, and it was even possible to discern their distance and direction.

  Iriana was so immersed in the sensations of the flight and the hunt that she almost overlooked the sound of the river. It was different now, its tranquil murmur changed to bubbling laughter as the young stream skipped and raced along. ‘Esmon, stop,’ she called. ‘I can hear the river again, away to the right of the trail.’

  Up ahead, the sound of hoofbeats stopped, then started again as Esmon rode back. ‘You’ve found the river? Good girl. But are you sure, Iriana? I can’t hear anything.’

  ‘Neither can I, with my own ears. But Seyka heard it.’

  ‘How far away do you think it is?’

  ‘Not too far, but I’m not exactly sure of the location. It’s sometimes difficult to keep track of where she’s going when she’s swooping and banking through the trees.’

  Esmon thought for a moment. ‘Avithan, hang on to Iriana’s horse. Iriana, link with Seyka again. Can you get her to find the river?’

  ‘I’ve never tried with the owl,’ Iriana told him, ‘but sometimes I can get Melik and Bear to go to a place if I put an image in their minds.’

  ‘Well, let’s find out. I’ll head off the trail in that general direction, and when you’ve found the river, send Seyka to me and I’ll follow her back. If she can’t do it, give me a call in mindspeech. We shouldn’t be shouting this close to the border if we can possibly help it.’

  Iriana nodded and settled herself in the saddle. Casting her mind forth, she found the owl, who had just spotted a fat mouse scurrying between the tree roots, completely oblivious to her silent presence. She was just tensing herself to swoop when Iriana called her back. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told Seyka in mindspeech, ‘but you’ve got all night to hunt. I just need to borrow your eyes for a little while longer.’

  Reluctantly, the owl abandoned its prey and flew on into the trees. Iriana tried to send images of water into its mind, and after a few moments of weaving flight between tree trunks, she heard the sound of the splashing stream again. Seyka burst out of the trees into the open, and to Iriana’s delight, she had found the perfect camping place. It was not so much a clearing as a wide margin around a large pond that had been created by a beaver dam. The young river poured in from the north over a step of rock - about waist-high, it was too small to be called a waterfall - and flowed out across the tangled barrier of sticks at the opposite end of the broad, shining pool. On the side closest to the trail a massive chestnut tree grew, its broad, sheltering boughs overhanging the area between the water and the forest’s brink.

  Water, shelter, cover from the air. The place was perfect, and Iriana could not have been more gratified by Esmon’s nod of approval as he rode out of the trees, picking leaves and twigs from down the neck of his tunic, and looked around. She left the owl to continue her interrupted hunting, and returned to the very different vision of her horse. ‘Esmon liked it,’ she said to Avithan, with a big smile. ‘I could tell by his face. Oh, thank goodness we can stop and rest at last.’

/>   ‘Listen - he’s coming back now,’ Avithan said.

  The Warrior emerged from the trees onto the trail once more, mopping at the blood from a scratch on his bald head. ‘It’s something of a scramble to get there if you haven’t got wings,’ he said, ‘but the place is too perfect to quibble about that. Besides, there’s no harm in being fairly inaccessible from the road. Let’s get going, you two. We’re already losing daylight. Once we’re down, I’ll come back up here on foot and do my best to hide the place where we left the track.’

  Avithan and Iriana exchanged an uneasy thought. Now they were so close to the border, what had seemed like a light-hearted adventure to begin with had become deadly serious. As they turned their horses to follow Esmon, the Warrior’s posture and demeanour communicated a new sense of caution and the need for stealth.

  Esmon was right - it was something of a scramble, down a steep bank thickly overgrown with trees. Iriana, using her horse’s eyes to navigate the slope, had to crouch low in the saddle: not the ideal position under the circumstances. Every moment it felt as though she would slide over Dailika’s head, and the horse was finding it difficult to keep its balance with her weight thrown so far forward. The wild, hair-raising slither was soon over, however, and they were out in the open again on the banks of the pond. She straightened up gratefully, pushing her hair, which had been caught on twigs and pulled out of her braid, back from her face.