“Aye, my lady. I’ll keep my eyes open for her.”
The coach rode comfortably along the rutted streets of Lux Enor. Lady Shey sank back into her padded seat. So this is how royalty rides, she thought. She had almost fallen asleep when Rodraq pulled the reins on the four white horses to stop the coach. A few moments later, she heard the familiar sound of the metal steps and the coach door opened to admit her elven passenger.
“It’s good to see you—” Shey began.
“No, my lady, careful with your greeting. I am an unassuming traveling companion. Simply call me Sylvalora, dear. In fact, why don’t you call me Sylvalora until I tell you otherwise.” She winked at Lady Shey.
“Of course, I understand.” Shey reached out her hand to help Sylvalora take her seat. “But it is good to see you.”
“And you, my dear. It has been entirely too long since our last meeting.”
Rodraq peered through the coach door. “On now to Old Symbor, my lady?”
“Old Symbor?” Sylvalora asked.
“That would be fine, Rodraq,” Shey said. “I hope you’re not easily frightened, Sylvalora. There have been reports coming from the Sacred Land.”
“I never have been easily frightened before. Don’t plan to start now. Are we going to the Sacred Land so you will not be easily detected?”
“Aye.”
“Good. Let me know if we run into any patrols of Defenders. I should like to have a word with them.”
“I’m sure they’ll stop us after we enter the Sacred Land, anyway.” Shey heard the sharp crack of the reins, and the coach lumbered forward. “So, Sylvalora, I was surprised to get your message.” She tapped her temple. “Does your wanting to join me have anything to do with the highlord’s death?”
“I have an interest, aye. I know what you’re getting at, and no, the Silver Drake probably will not be choosing a new highlord anytime soon.”
“Oh, and why is that?”
“The Silver Drake is inaccessible at the moment.”
Lady Shey grinned. “Well, I certainly hope the Silver Drake does a better job of choosing a highlord than it did last time.”
“Highlord Stowe had his merits.”
“Aye, and he kept them where no one could find them.”
“Amusing. No wonder you got along together so well.”
Shey adjusted herself in her seat to get more comfortable. “Now, on to business.”
“Hold on a moment,” Sylvalora said. “Let me secure the coach.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment. “All right, we can speak freely now.”
“The Sacred Land is reawakening, but you already knew this or you would not be here right now. Am I correct?”
“You are correct. What else do you know about it? Why are we really going to Old Symbor?” Sylvalora asked.
“Toborne. When I was an apprentice, he and Morgoran used to experiment with essence and little jade figurines, remember?”
“I was there. I remember.”
“The highlord used to keep several of these statuettes on a table near the throne for decoration. After he was assassinated, I noticed they were gone. They were there when I left him for my chambers. The assassins took them. The highlord just liked them because they were intricately carved depictions of elven maidens. He had no idea what they really were.”
“So you are hoping to find a clue about them beneath the White Tower?”
“It was the last place I saw any of them.” She cleared her throat. “The highlord’s council had him assassinated. I’m fairly certain.”
“They will notice you are missing and send someone after you.”
“Not necessarily. They will only send someone after me if they think I’m a threat. I think they will see my escape as a move of self-preservation. Drakkius will think he has the upper hand.”
“I will keep an eye out for you, anyway, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Sylvalora.”
Chapter 5: Defender Patrol
Shey could see the bleak, barren plains and dead forests of the Sacred Land in the distance. Low grey clouds began to accumulate the closer she traveled toward the border villages. Shey felt the familiar oppression and general feeling of despair that always pervaded her when in proximity of the dead land. Shey tried to remember the names of the border villages they would be passing through shortly, but she couldn’t recall them. They changed and shifted populations too many times over the seasons. The road became rough from mud hardening into ruts. The coach lurched and bounded. She was about to tell Rodraq to take it slow when she felt the coach slow down without her intervention.
Sylvalora slept opposite her, almost in a fetal position, across the whole of the coach bench. Shey wondered briefly how Sylvalora could sleep during such a rocky and jolting ride.
“My lady,” Rodraq called down from the driver’s seat. “We are approaching a group of men on the side of the road. They appear to have injured, but I can’t be sure from this distance.”
“What colors do they display?”
“White, gold, and red, if I am seeing them correctly.”
“Defenders’ colors. Most likely a patrol,” Shey said.
“This far from the Sacred Land, my lady?”
“If they have injured, they may have moved away from the borders for some reason. Stop beside them. Sylvalora and I wish to talk to them.”
“Aye, my lady,” Rodraq said. He reined the coach to a stop and hurried down from the driver’s seat. He lowered the steps and opened the coach door for Lady Shey.
Shey carefully approached the Defenders. “I am Lady Shey from Lux Enor. Who is in charge here?”
A fierce Defender stood up and brushed off his uniform. His features were chiseled and seasoned, his face wind-bitten. “Our commander was killed near the border villages. I am Juran, the senior-most officer.”
“I bid you greetings, Juran. We are to travel through the border villages. What news do you have of the place?”
“If any other asked me, I would turn them away and send them back to where they came. The border villages are being evacuated as we speak. The Sacred Land is giving up her dead from the War of the Oracle fought so many seasons ago. It isn’t safe. That being said, a wielder of your renown might find it interesting that there is a rumor of a young boy in one of the villages who is keeping the walking dead at bay. They say he has the sight of the Oracle himself.”
“You know who I am, then?”
“Aye, my lady. You are well known amongst the Defenders of the Sacred Land.”
“Very well, Juran. In which village is this young seer rumored to reside?”
“The village of Valwall, my lady.”
Shey thanked the soldier and turned to her coach. “Get us to Valwall, Rodraq.”
“Aye, my lady.” He snapped the reins.
She entered the coach just as it began to move, sat down, and eyed Sylvalora, who stared back at her grimly from the opposite seat. Sylvalora’s grim expression changed to concern. “The Oracle reborn?”
Shey took a deep breath. “I certainly hope not. Could the renewal of the Sacred Land also bring back the Oracle?”
“Who knows? This is the first time anyone has ever seen such a place as the Sacred Land regenerate. If the Oracle foresaw he would be reborn, it would explain his disappearance during the War. The ranks of wielders have been wiped out due to the law against magic. Mindwielders are almost nonexistent. It would be a superb time for him to come back. There is almost no one left to stop him.”
“There is, but it’s a long shot at best. After we investigate this child seer, we will need to continue on to the White Tower in Old Symbor. I remember Marella and I came across some old books of prophesy in the archives when we were girls.”
“Merely fairy tales and fiction,” Sylvalora scoffed. “I doubt those books have anything useful in them.”
“There is Toborne’s old laboratory chambers beneath the tower as well. He was also fond of collecting stories and prophecies. H
e may have left something behind. He collected the ramblings of the seers of old and some of the Oracle himself.”
“They would have to be magically sealed to have survived this long. I know Enowene protected the tower archives, but would Toborne remember to do the same?”
“I suppose we will find out,” Shey answered.
The first of the five border villages did not appear out of the ordinary until Lady Shey’s coach entered the wooden gates. The people scrambling about were not going about their daily tasks but were instead preparing to leave. Wagons were piled high with belongings, and families packed themselves into the fold of the wagons wherever they could. The streets appeared to be in chaos, with men directing their wagons around others that were stalled for one reason or another. Shey ordered Rodraq to continue through the village without stopping. She and Sylvalora already knew why the villagers were leaving. Word had reached them from the Sacred Land; the sins of the past were coming back for the living.
“What are we getting ourselves into?” Lady Shey asked Sylvalora.
“We will need to push onward. Once we get deep into the Sacred Land, I’m sure the danger these people are running from will no longer be a problem for us. If we are lucky, maybe we can avoid trouble altogether.”
“The next village is situated directly on the border. Do you think we should avoid it and go around?”
Sylvalora glanced out the coach window at the villagers scrambling to leave. “It’s difficult to say. We would have to leave the coach and travel on horseback if we did. I think for now we should travel the road and hope for the best. We don’t know what we’re going to meet out there, whether it be by road or traveling in the wild.”
Shey nodded. She opened the small window on the coach door. “Rodraq, continue on road to the next village.”
“Aye, my lady. You do realize the next village is Valwall, do you not?”
“Understood. Aye, take us to Valwall.”
Chapter 6: Valwall
When the coach came within sight of the village of Valwall, Rodraq commanded the horses to halt. Shey heard him set the brake and climb down. The coach door opened, and Rodraq lowered the steps. “You might want to see this,” he said.
Shey stepped out of the coach and helped Sylvalora down. They peered into the distance at the medium-sized village. Even though the sun had not yet set, the village was surrounded by the abominations of unlife. The dead of the battles and atrocities of the War of the Oracle had risen, and they walked, hovered, and floated around the perimeter of Valwall.
“Are they looking to get in or is something holding them back and keeping them out?” Shey asked.
Sylvalora squinted to get a better look. “I would say something is keeping them out.”
“Something in that village is attracting them,” Rodraq said, “something they are trying to get at.”
“Which means we should be able to ride past them and enter the village unmolested. But, just to be safe, wait until there is a break in the line around the entrance and then drive the coach through,” Shey suggested. “That way if the abominations do come after us, they will not be able to follow us into the village.”
“A wise plan,” Rodraq agreed.
“Let’s get in there and find this seer boy. I have a feeling he is both the source of the attraction and the force keeping those things at bay,” Sylvalora said as she stepped back into the coach.
Shey pulled up the hem of her dress and stepped onto the first step. “Drive on, Rodraq. Be as cautious as you can.”
“Aye, my lady. I will see us safely through the gates.”
As Lady Shey had commanded, Rodraq waited at a distance from the gates until there was a break in the line before taking them forward into the village. Once they had passed the gates, they were safe. The creatures surrounding the city could not enter. Lady Shey changed from her dress into breeches and climbed up the outside of the coach to join Rodraq in the driver’s seat. The village seemed abandoned as they traveled its dirt and cobblestone streets. Most of the buildings were in disrepair and appeared to have been assaulted of late. Windows were broken and doors were torn from their hinges.
“Go to the village square, Rodraq. The people might have relocated to a central, defensible location,” Lady Shey suggested.
Rodraq complied and took the coach down what he thought might be the quickest path to the middle of the village. “The sun is on its way home,” he pointed out. “We will be here, stuck in the dark.”
“As long as the abominations stay outside, I am not too worried about spending the night here.”
The coach rounded the final corner and entered the village square. At the center, sprawled out and tied to scaffolding was a young, blond-headed boy of about ten seasons. Strewn out around on the ground before him were the villagers. They appeared from Lady Shey’s angle to all be dead, save for the boy who was moaning.
Rodraq reined in the horses. “What in the name of evil happened here!”
Lady Shey climbed from the coach and went to the nearest villager. She put her ear close to the woman’s mouth and listened. “She’s not dead. I hear her breathing.” She moved to the next man and found the same. “They are not dead . . . yet. Rodraq, check the others while I see about the boy.”
The big man set the brake and climbed down from the coach. He went to the closest villager and began turning over bodies, checking for signs of life.
Sylvalora followed Shey to the boy. “Don’t take him down yet. We need to find out what happened here first.”
“I will not leave a boy hanging up like a scarecrow in a field!”
“Leave him, Shey! Now you listen to me this time. We don’t know what is happening here.”
“I know they are abusing this child!” Shey reached up and severed the rope holding him with one of the daggers she carried. He slumped down into her arms, and she helped him lie down on the wooden platform.
Sylvalora stood over Lady Shey’s shoulder. “A fool thing to do when we know so little.”
Lady Shey ignored her.
“My lady, this villager is conscious.” Rodraq was helping a young woman walk to where Shey tended to the boy.
The girl looked at the boy and started clawing at Rodraq. “No, get me away from him. Put him back up where he belongs.” She was terrified, and Rodraq let her go when she feebly tried to pull away from him. She took two steps and collapsed to the ground. Rodraq went to her aid.
“Put him back where you found him,” Sylvalora said, expressionless.
“I will not!” Lady Shey said.
“The girl is dead,” Rodraq announced. “I think she may have been frightened to death.”
Lady Shey looked up from the boy to see what Rodraq was talking about. The girl pushed herself up behind him. “She isn’t dead. She is standing up behind you.”
Rodraq turned around. “Missy, I thought you stopped breathing.” He reached for her. She whirled around in a singular, fluid motion. She leaped at Rodraq, screeching. Her mouth opened wide, too wide. The sides of her mouth ripped, and blood ran down her chin as she gurgled and spat, trying to get at him. He reached for his sword, pushing her away with his free hand. He pulled his sword free and hacked the creature’s arm off as she reached for him again. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down at an angle, slicing through the former girl. Once she fell, he finished her off.
Shey looked at the boy. He was moaning and moving his head side to side. “They are coming for me,” he whispered.
“Prepare yourself, Rodraq,” Lady Shey said. “I think we unleashed the creatures outside the gates.”
Sylvalora took the initiative and grabbed the boy. “Help me get him back up on the scaffolding.”
Lady Shey reluctantly helped the elven woman put the boy back where she had found him. “This is so barbaric, Sylvalora. We are supposed to be civilized people.”
“There is no civility among the dead, Sheyna, nor is there reason, compassion, or empathy.”
“He is drawing in essence!” Sylvalora said.
“I think he is taking the life-force from the villagers!” Shey said.
Sylvalora moved to take action. She held up her hands, and bolts of lightning came from her palms, striking the boy.
Shey was horrified. “What are you doing? He is a boy!”
Sylvalora let the lightning bolts fall. “Look.”
Shey looked at the boy. He appeared unharmed. He was crying as if he didn’t know where he was. The villagers who were killed remained where they fell, while the villagers who still lived began to stand.
“What did you do?” Shey asked Sylvalora as she went to let the boy down from the scaffolding again.
“I must have jolted out whatever force was controlling him.”
One of the village women approached. She recognized the boy Shey was trying to help. “Get away from him! What are you doing to my son?” She ran up to Shey and yanked her hands away from him.
“He is the young seer is he not?” Shey asked.
The woman took her son down and held him close. “Of course he isn’t. He is innocent. The boy you seek was run out of town. He is rumored to be dead. There is a cabin about a mile into the Sacred Land. If he lives, the Defenders guard him there.”
“What has happened here?” Sylvalora asked.
“We are all trying to leave. The dead from the wars of the Sacred Land have been invading our village with evil. Our children take ill and are tortured. They have the nerve to call this land sacred!” She took her boy up in her arms. “If you know what is good for you, you will leave this forsaken land!” She ran with her boy toward some of the dwellings.
“Looks like we travel into the Sacred Land, then,” Lady Shey said.
Sylvalora nodded. “Find where Rodraq has gotten off to; I will meet you at the coach.”
Shey surveyed her surroundings. Where has Rodraq gone? she thought.
Defenders of the Sacred Land: Expanded and Re-Issued (The Sacred Land Legacy Book 1) Page 4