Journey to Aviad

by Allison D. Reid

  “We’re not safe here, even now,” he continued to whisper. “Follow me … softly.” There was nothing to do but follow. It didn’t occur to Elowyn that it might be unwise to follow a strange man to an unknown destination. There was something about him that she instinctively trusted. She was amazed by the way he deftly moved like water across the ground, blending in perfectly with the woods around him, making not so much as a single leaf stir as he passed. Elowyn had taken great pains to learn how to move swiftly and silently, when others went tromping through the brush so clumsily that half the wood must hear them. Many times she had sat frozen in place, observing with great interest travelers who had camped by the stream. Not once had she been caught, nor even roused suspicion of her presence. But this man’s skill was far beyond hers. She felt a thrill of pleasure at being able to mimic his movements, correcting the flaws in her own.

  Elowyn felt her connection to her surroundings deepen so intensely it was almost unbearable. Her heart surged with longing, enticing her to stop, close her eyes, breathe deeply, and just melt into everything around her. The sun was finally rising, licking the sky with bright orange and gold, setting the whole wood ablaze with color. But she did not have the luxury of stopping. If she took her eye off the man for even a moment, she would no doubt lose sight of him. It was difficult enough to keep up with his long stride and still maintain the stealth of her movements.

  He suddenly ducked around the edge of a low-ridged hill, and vanished. That was her first moment of awareness that she really didn’t know much about this man, or where he was leading her. This was a part of the wood she did not know. She pressed against the exposed rock of the hill, and looked around anxiously.

  “Come, this way,” came his whisper from somewhere behind her. His face peered out of a small opening, masked by the rock face and an overhang of tree roots. She crawled in after him, finding herself in a dark corridor made of rock and packed earth. It was barely tall enough for her to stand in, and narrow enough that she could touch both sides.

  “Feel your way forward carefully. At the end of this tunnel there is a larger room. There we can talk.” Nervously, Elowyn did as he instructed, shuffling her feet along the floor, her hands extended along the walls as they twisted and curved, the whole time sloping downwards until she knew she was well underground.

  Elowyn greatly disliked dark underground places because they cut her off from the outside world. Morganne’s warning suddenly ran through her mind, “One of these days, you’re going to get in trouble out there, and what then?” Yes, what then? She had already nearly met her death once that morning. If this man’s intent was to hold her prisoner in this hole, who would ever find her? The passage suddenly grew wider and the air became less oppressive. The soft sounds made by her movements changed, and even without the ability to see where she was, she knew she was now standing in a rather large space.

  “Step forward a bit,” the man said in a low whisper. As she did so, she heard the sound of a heavy door closing behind her. It took every ounce of courage she had not to scream and try to claw her way out if she had to. In the midst of that unforgiving blackness, her eyes were suddenly drawn to the comforting glow of a hot coal, and then to the brighter flame of a small candle. Moments later, the room was lit from end to end by many lanterns. “Better?” the man asked. Elowyn nodded, holding her tongue so that he would not hear the quiver in her voice.

  “I do apologize, little Maiden. Forgive this inadequate dwelling,” he bowed with casual politeness. It was the first time Elowyn had heard his true voice, which was strong and melodic, with a slightly bitter edge. “I would much rather be out in the open myself, enjoying the sunrise and a low fire, with a breakfast of fresh fish cooking in the embers. But, alas, the times do not allow it. By the way, you need not worry that I have shut you in. I have in fact shut everything else out. There is no point in attracting unwelcome visitors. Here, we are safe from everything, save famine.” Elowyn relaxed and looked about the cavern, which was completely empty. The walls were rough. She could see where they had been carved by hand. This was not a natural place; someone had built it, though for what purpose she could only make wild guesses.

  He took off his cloak and spread it on the floor. “I am afraid there is no water for washing up, and this is the only seat I have to offer you. Truly a young maid of your beauty and grace deserves better. Perhaps in more peaceful times I shall be able to show you better hospitality.” Elowyn blushed. She was not at all accustomed to being spoken to in this manner. She knew she must look frightful, with mud smeared all over her face and thoroughly soaked into the front of her dress. But it couldn’t be helped.

  “Now to business,” the man said, once Elowyn had settled comfortably onto his cloak. He sat on the bare floor a respectable distance away from her. “You came very near to perishing this morning. Though it was an incredibly foolish thing to do, had you not called out, that beast would have had little girl for breakfast.”

  Elowyn finally found her voice. “Thank you,” she said, shuddering. “I don’t know what I would have done…”

  “You would have been dead,” he replied matter-of-factly, “or worse. That entire area has been swarming with Alazoth’s Hounds the last two nights. You might say they have taken it over completely. The one you encountered was merely a scout. He must have sensed you. A large pack of them was lying in wait across the stream. That is why I brought you here, though in doing so I break faith with those who wish this location to remain secret. To rescue you from one Hound, only to send you off to be torn to pieces by the rest, would have made me a murderer. At least here you are safe, for the time being. I mean not to pry, but what was a maid so young as yourself doing that close to the Shadow Wood alone?”

  “I am often there, both day and night. But I have never before seen such a beast as that, nor heard their name spoken.”

  “Well, if you continue to frequent that place, especially by night, you are likely to see many more of them. And no one may be there next time to save you. You have never seen one before, because up until recently, they have been neatly contained within the Shadow Wood itself by the river. Somehow they have found a way to cross it in significant numbers. They are attacking anyone they find.

  “Please, I owe you my life, and I do not even know your name.”

  The man smiled. “Aye, very true little maiden.” He stood up and bowed. “I am Einar, son of Thaine, at your service. But to most of my friends, I am simply known as Einar. Have I yet earned the pleasure of knowing yours?” His lips curled with amusement.

  Elowyn nodded solemnly. “Elowyn,” she said, shifting uneasily in her seat as she felt him waiting for the rest. “Just Elowyn …” her face flushed, though he most likely couldn’t see it beneath all the mud.

  Einar dusted himself off, extending his hand to help her to her feet. “Well then, ‘just Elowyn,’ it is time we get you safely away from here so that I may return to my duties. Though I would love nothing more than to spend the day indulging myself in the pleasure of your company, I have serious matters to attend to this day.”

  Elowyn didn’t quite know how to take this man. His compliments lavished so freely upon her were flattering in their own way. Certainly no one had ever called her a beautiful young maid before. Yet everything he said was diffused through the bitterness in his voice and the gleam in his eye. She could not tell if his words were sincere, if he merely spoke them out of courtesy, or if he was mocking her.

  “I will take you close enough to Tyroc that you can find your way safely home. I strongly suggest that henceforth you remain within the protection of the city walls.”

  The look on Elowyn’s face was one of intense pain. “Oh, but I can’t!”

  “Can’t?” Einar seemed perplexed at first, then a flash of understanding passed over his features, and he smirked in what she was discovering to be his usual way. “How is it that one of your youth has already found the disfavor of the Sovereign’s sons?”

  It was
apparent that he had misunderstood her completely. This was nothing unusual; Elowyn was used to being misunderstood in just about every way. He thought her aversion to the city was because she was a criminal of some kind. Turning red, she tried to explain. “No, it’s nothing like that. But the city … if you told me that I must spend my life locked up behind a wall … I would prefer death,” she said emphatically.

  He laughed in a condescending way that irritated her. “Strong words for such a young girl. What do you know of death? Though I am certain that it could be arranged—no doubt the Hounds would oblige your wish.”

  Elowyn grew sulky. “You don’t understand; I belong out here, among the trees and the wild beasts.”

  “Have you no home then? Are you an orphan?”

  “No,” she said, grimacing. “I am no orphan. I live with my mother and two sisters in a small cottage on the road outside the East Gate, but I rarely sleep there. I much prefer a tree branch under the stars for a bed. That place … where you found me … that is my favorite place, or rather, it was. I shall miss it.” Elowyn’s mournful expression caught Einar by surprise and some of the bitterness faded from his heart. Lost in thought, he seemed to be remembering a former time, a former self perhaps. For just that moment, he glowed with a luminous, child-like wonder, and Elowyn found him to be fascinatingly beautiful.

  But then something disturbed his thoughts, like a pebble thrown into a still pond, dragging him back to the present. The dark thought spread until it had crossed the whole length of his mind. His jaw hardened and the bitterness returned. The smirk she was beginning to dislike was back, smothering that lovely glow until it was thoroughly extinguished.

  “But things have changed, haven’t they,” he said to himself. It was more a statement than a question. He sighed, and shook his head regretfully as if his spirit carried a heavy weight. “Like it or not, the city is the only secure place for you. Even if I should show you areas of the wood that are safe right now, I cannot guarantee that they will remain so for long. I want no part in hastening your death. If against my advice you do go beyond the gates of Tyroc, and I can see by the look in your eyes that you intend to, at least remain close and stick to the north as much as possible. Carry a weapon.”

  “But I have none.”

  “Not even a dagger?” He seemed shocked by the thought that she habitually roamed the wilds alone with no weapon. It was not something he would imagine doing himself.

  Elowyn shook her head in response. Where was she supposed to get such an expensive object? “But I did find a bow,” her eyes brightened as she remembered.

  “Oh? You found a bow?” He asked inquisitively.

  Feeling insulted, Elowyn stiffened. “Yes, I found it, lying in some tall grass. The same beasts that attacked me killed a man and hauled his body away. They left his bow and helmet behind. I didn’t steal anything.” She folded her arms indignantly.

  “Nay, little maiden,” Einar’s tone softened, “I meant not to accuse you of it. What can you tell me of the man who was killed?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid. I never actually saw him.”

  Einar appeared to struggle with his thoughts for a brief moment. His curiosity intensified, and a look of great desire crossed his features before he regained his composure. “If you wish, I will teach you how to use it. It is a pity that a young maid should have to think about such matters, but in this dark age …” his voice trailed off.

  “Why do you speak so?” Elowyn’s tone became somewhat irritated. “You talk as if the whole world were coming to an end. It can’t be all that bad.”

  “But it is.” Einar grew solemn and edged closer to her, looking about nervously. “Don’t you feel it? You are no ordinary child—that is plain to me. Have you not sensed the darkness encroaching? Have you not felt the fingers of evil reaching out from the depths?” Elowyn’s scalp tingled, and the hair rose on her neck. He drew so close to her that she could feel his breath upon her ear as he whispered, “The emergence of the Hounds is only the beginning.”

  The wild look in Einar’s eyes made her wonder if he was a bit mad. His sudden change in demeanor thoroughly startled her, yet even as she backed away from him, she knew exactly what he meant. She had felt it. She had felt it at the stream when she discovered the bow. It was what had made her race at break-neck speed to seek the protection of the very place she most loathed. She had felt it in the growing darkness; she had felt it in the wind; she had felt it in the height of the storm. And most of all, she had felt it deep within her soul, at the first knocking on the door.

  Elowyn’s expression turned to one of immeasurable fear, as she recalled the night’s events that had impelled her to come to the stream that morning. Only instead of leaving the coin behind as she had planned, she had been attacked by yet another evil presence, one that was entirely new to her. Her fear intensified as she realized that there was no way to return the coin to the stream. What if the vision she had seen haunted her again, and again, every night without respite? Her breathing quickened and she began to panic. Frantically she made a dash for the door. She could not bear feeling trapped in this cave any longer. She needed to feel the sunshine and know that it was more real than the darkness, that it was indeed real at all.

  Before she could lift the latch, Einar gently blocked her and said in a soothing voice, “My apologies, little maiden; I did not mean to frighten you so. Shame be upon me and my children forever for my carelessness.”

  In a trembling voice, Elowyn asked, “Is there no way at all to get near that stream where you found me?”

  “Nay, I am afraid not. I was only there looking for someone, but it is obvious he is not there. Even I would not dare return, lest I had a whole army at my side. The other bank of the stream is blackened with Alazoth’s Hounds. Though by day they sleep and stay in the shadows, for it is my understanding that they cannot bear the sunlight, to go anywhere near them is a risky business. Once the sun has set, they will follow your scent. That is partly why I brought you here rather than escorting you straight home. If a Hound does track us to this place after sundown, it will not find anything. Your home would be another matter.”

  Elowyn’s heart fell.

  “Come child, it is time that we leave this place. I must resume my search, alone. It is highly important that I find my friend, now more so than ever.”

  “Will I see you again?”

  Einar paused and considered her question thoughtfully. “Aye, I believe you shall. I cannot promise you when, but it will be soon. Now, follow me again, silently.”

  The return journey was as glorious as the first. Again, Elowyn mimicked his fluid movements with sheer delight, and even made up a few of her own in order to keep up with the pace of his adult stride. It seemed to her that he was very much aware of her attempts, and that he purposely threw in difficult moves just to watch her reaction. Not to be undone, as they neared their destination, he disappeared into the brush, leaving her standing in the middle of a clearing, searching for any sign of his form. She found it increasingly disturbing that another human could be so close, yet remain beyond her senses. She heard nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing. Had she not known better, she would have thought herself quite alone.

  After a few moments he emerged with a glimmer of amusement in his eye. “Well, at least you cannot mimic that one yet.” She took his comment as the compliment he intended it to be. He did not realize how many months she had spent, figuring out how to move stealthily through the forest simply by trial and error. His motions were highly perfected, yet he made them seem so simple. His skill completely awed her. She had never met anyone so adept.

  “Just through those trees, you will see the city wall. It is here I must take my leave. Farewell, most worthy Maiden of the Wood, we shall meet again. Remember all the things I told you, and stay to the North of Tyroc if you must leave the city. There you will be watched after.” Then he bowed to her, slipped silently into the trees without stirring so much as a leaf, and was gone. />
  Vision of Darkness

  News reached the cottage three days later that a member of the renegade group had been caught. Such a thing had never happened before. Everyone had begun to believe that this mysterious group was completely impenetrable, beyond capture, injury, or even death. The latest rumor going about was that they weren’t people at all, but an elusive band of evil spirits. Whether they were made of spirit or flesh-and-blood would be revealed soon enough. By proclamation of the Sovereign’s sons, all were required to attend the renegade’s execution. This was a momentous victory for the two sons, and they wanted everyone to know it.

  Elowyn worried that their mother was going to throw the crier out on his ear when he came knocking at the door. She had just settled at the loom with some newly spun, fine linen thread and was beginning the rhythm of the weave. Interrupting her weaving hours was dangerous, usually resulting in a backhand across the face. But the crier was not at her mercies, and even their mother realized it was ill-advised to oppose his demands. Irritated though she was, there was nothing she could do so long as she lived under the rule of Tyroc. So when the time came, she grudgingly dropped her threads and dragged Morganne, Elowyn, and Adelin out the door, grumbling the entire way.

  To their mother, this execution meant nothing more than time away from her loom she could not afford to waste. She cared nothing for the politics of Tyroc, but she was keenly aware of the games the nobles often played with the simple tradesmen and artisans. Even the slightest delay or variation in what they asked for could give them cause to claim that they did not have to pay. She in turn would have little recourse against them. Considering that she had borrowed heavily to purchase the velvet and other materials she needed, if they refused to pay her, she would be ruined. But if all was precisely to their specifications, and the money was paid in full, this order would bring more wealth than she had seen in her lifetime. The risk made her anxious, which had the effect of making her more cross than usual.