by Quil Carter
“Ahh, there they are!” Gorat said the morning of their departure. He was standing beside Korivander and a tall elf with flaming red hair and a pointed chin who Ben assumed was Lordling Grady. Behind them were the mason horses which Malagant explained were native to the Frey, the northern hold of Alcove. They were tall and burly horses with thick legs and an insulated long coat to protect them from the cold. The horses were built for trudging through snow and Ben suspected that even if they found themselves in another blizzard these horses would keep on walking.
The five horses were already saddled and ready to go, with gear and supplies strapped to their backs. There were three brown ones for Ben, Teal, and Malagant and two with fiery red coats which Ben knew were for the two Firemanes. He wouldn’t put it past it that those two horses were specifically bred for the highborn House.
“Hello, Gorat, Grady, Uncle,” Malagant greeted all of them with a small bow. “I hope the morning has found you well.”
“No matter where I hide, morning always finds me,” Gorat chuckled. He was standing beside his horse with his son beside him. Both of the Firemanes were incredibly tall but their heads just reached the horses’ heads. Ben was nervous about finding himself on top of such a large creature, he had only just gotten used to riding a regular horse, but the giant beasts seemed friendly enough at least.
“I apologize for not having my children here to send you off, but we do want to be as discreet as possible,” Korivander said. “Gorat, I am glad Kelakheva chose you to help our prophecy walkers. Any Serpent you come across will be running in the opposite direction.
Gorat nodded, his face looking serious. He got onto his horse. “We will guard them with our lives, Korivander. On my House name, I swear it.”
“Lelander thanks you, and may Anea bless you,” Korivander said. “And praise the gods for sending us this prophecy.”
“Amen,” Gorat said with a nod.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Uncle,” Malagant said embracing the King of Lelan. “It was great seeing you again.”
“I will do all I can from here to make your journey safe,” Korivander said after they broke their embrace, “the rest will be up to the prophecies.”
“We’ll send a hawk once we arrive,” Malagant said, getting up onto one of the giant brown horses.
And with that they were off, leaving Lelan Castle behind them.
It took some adjusting but Ben made himself comfortable on the horse. So far so good at least, as he had suspected the mason horses were docile and friendly, making slow but steady movements.
“Wow,” Ben heard Teal whisper. He looked over at his friend to see what he was talking about, and felt his breath get caught in his throat.
The grounds behind the castle were beautiful!
Because of the snowstorm that ambushed their small party, Ben hadn’t had the chance to look around when he had first come to the palace.
The red brick castle was overwhelmingly large, and stood with pride behind two grey marble statues of elves that stood four-storeys high. One was holding a bow in his hand, with long hair that draped over his face, the other with a sword and short hair. Everything had been carved in painstaking detail, there were even folds and wrinkles in the tunics and strands of hair that fell over their faces. It must’ve taken them centuries to carve these statues.
The castle itself was also something to stare at. It had tall towers with peaked green roofs that held the Lelan flag, and balconies surrounded by battlements with framed windows that held dark green curtains. Ben could also see what he knew was the dome skyscraper of the library, stained and forgotten but, hopefully, not forever.
Ben shook his head in awe, his gaze travelling to the snow-covered courtyard they were walking across. Like the small oasis in Jare the thick forest seemed desperate to overtake the flat courtyard, large trees curving in on themselves like a barrier was preventing them from claiming it and turning it back into forest.
There were even wooden watchtowers on the outskirts of the field with the silhouettes of sentries inside. And as their party turned a corner and started walking on the brick walkway that led out of the castle grounds, Ben could see Lelanders practicing their archery against red-painted targets.
To Ben’s own surprise, as he took in this beautiful castle he felt a sadness inside of him. This place technically wasn’t in Alcove, as part of the Lelander’s agreement with the four kingdoms of Al’Anea, but it was still surrounded by Alcove land and, as such, still at threat of King Erick. On top of that King Korivander and Lord Gorat seemed all too eager to start another rebellion to try and win back Alcove from the hands of the Draken King. King Korivander seemed as much of an Alcovian as he did a Lelander, and it was obvious to see he was fiercely loyal to King Calin.
This place was beautiful, it was peaceful – but it was also in a great deal of danger.
What would Erick do if he found out the prophecy walkers had stayed here? That King Korivander had aided them on their journey to overthrow the king? He would invade this hold, and apparently Lelan Island was leagues and leagues to the east. Erick could take over this hold with a snap of his fingers and all of this could be in flames before the Lelan army got here.
“I hope Erick never comes here,” Ben found himself whispering; his eyes fell to two Lelanders on horses, bows in hand as they chased what looked like a flock of large birds.
And as those words left his lips, Ben heard their echoing laughs.
Malagant, who was riding beside Ben, looked in the same direction. They both watched a bird fall from the sky, an arrow sticking out of its body.
“Me too, Benny,” Malagant said quietly. “Me too.”
On the Black Road.
Taelie Ahren, daughter of Arganti Ahren, the Hold Lord of Alathéa, was riding beside her father, his court, Taelie’s brother, and three soldiers acting as escorts.
They had left the Lelan Hold four days ago and from what Lord Arganti’s squire had said it would be another two weeks at least until they reached the borders of Alathéa.
Two weeks… Taelie sighed as she stared ahead. The journey from Alathéa to Lelan had gone a lot faster it seemed, but the excitement of being out of the castle and on the road had made the days pass quickly. Now however, Taelie had grown tired of the day-to-day life on the Black Road and she was quite looking forward to returning to her family’s castle.
Not only had it been rather boring riding down the road, but it had been quiet as well. There was no one to talk to or explore the terrain with. Her older brother Viradin used to explore with her and have a great time, but now he was older and had dismissed Taelie’s suggestion as child’s play, and had chastised her on being too old for such things.
Too old? Pah, I’m fifteen years old I’m not thirty. This may be my last opportunity to explore and have a good time, for all I know the next time I’m in Lelan Hold I’ll be married.
“What time do you think it is?” Taelie asked Viradin, hoping to strike up a conversation.
Viradin Ahren, Lord Arganti’s son and his heir, looked at Taelie with a stoic expression. His face was that of a hibrid who suffered no nonsense, least of all nonsense from his little sister.
“Mid-afternoon,” Viradin said. He gently stroked his trimmed beard before tapping a finger against it. “We have another three hours of sunlight I would wager. Still bored are we, little sister?”
“How can you tell?” Taelie said with a sigh. She looked around the sparse woods, hoping to spot some wildflowers she could pick, or even a squirrel she could chase but there was nothing but green forest and dense brush. “I wish Desa had come along, at least he’s entertaining.”
Viradin’s mouth pursed at the comment, knowing that it was directed at him, but he maintained his placid and serious look and instead kept his gaze fixed ahead.
“Perhaps a book? Gillfred has several in the covered wagon that Father is in,” Viradin suggested.
At this suggestion Taelie made a face. “I read so much i
n Lelan Castle; I think if I look at another book I might be sick.”
Viradin rolled his eyes at this. “Kirick will not like such a fidgety wife. Why don’t you scout ahead with Gillfred then?” Viradin suggested. “Perhaps you will find a few berry bushes, the snowberry is ripe this time of year.”
Taelie let out an exasperated breath. She leaned backwards on her horse until her back was resting against her bedroll and pack. “That’s even more boring, Viradin.” Why couldn’t those two hibrids have come along with them? Sure both of them were chayle but that only meant she could go on adventures with them without her father worrying about her running off with one of them. The most fun she’d had in years was sneaking those two into the library.
Perhaps that’s why I’m so fidgety. I tasted adventure and now I want more. Sure we were never in any danger but the thrill was still there. I wonder if they got what they were looking for.
“Well stop being so boring and maybe you’ll find some entertainment,” Viradin said.
Taelie scowled. “I’m going to go and see what Gillfred is doing.”
She rode her horse ahead of the escorts, and nudged her in her ribs to go faster. Taelie stood up in her saddle and leaned herself forward, making her grey mare speed up.
Taelie smiled as she felt the wind ripping through her head, and momentarily forgot about her boredom. A few moments later she spotted an old tall grey-haired elf who was riding a brown horse.
Taelie sat down in the saddle and pulled her horse’s reins, slowing the mare down. The gray-haired elf watched her approach with a kind smile.
“Bored, Lady Taelie?” the old elf asked.
“Bored stiff!” Taelie replied. “Anything out of the ordinary?”
“Nothing at all, my lady,” Gillfred said. “Not even a squirrel. It does look like it may snow again though.”
Taelie nodded glancing up at the snow clouds above them, the sun was just a shrouded orb in the sky. “I thought so too.”
“How is everything back there?” Gillfred asked, motioning to where the rest of the party was.
“Father’s complaining about the cold. Viradin is looking like he has a stick up his backside, and there is talk about pressing on even if we do experience some snow. Just so we can get to Alathéa before the worst of it comes,” Taelie said. She pulled the hood of her mink fur cloak over her head and rubbed her gloved hands together.
Gillfred smiled and opened his mouth to reply, when something stopped him. He closed his mouth, a curious expression appearing on his face.
“What is it, Gillfred?” Taelie asked.
Gillfred held up his hand for silence, and as he listened Taelie cocked her head to the side and did the same.
Far off in the distance she started to hear the familiar sound of pounding horse hooves. It seemed to be quite a few of them as well and they were in a hurry.
“Probably a traveller,” Gillfred murmured, “but I want you to warn the others anyway.”
Taelie nodded and quickly turned her horse around. She nudged her hard in the side and galloped towards the rest of the party.
“There’s some elves coming; we could hear horses,” Taelie said when she had reached the other group.
Viradin immediately drew his sword, his already serious face becoming graver.
“Put that away, boy,” Arganti said irritably. “It’s probably just some merchants or travellers, there are many farmers out here transporting their winter crops.”
Viradin reluctantly put his sword away, but his hand was resting near a dagger he had sheathed to his belt. Everyone looked nervous about the approaching riders but Arganti, who was sitting on his paint horse with a pestered look on his face.
Then the riders could be seen in the distance, making the horses give nervous whinnies, their harnesses jingling with their shaking heads. This made the nervousness growing in Taelie swell; she wished herself for her own dagger, but her father had never let her carry one.
And when the riders came into view, wearing the black uniforms and flowing capes of the Serpent knights, her stomach clenched and twisted into knots.
Everyone in the party fell silent. No one spoke as the dozen cloaked riders got closer to them, not even when they saw two dark accalites walking behind them.
Taelie’s horse shook her head and staggered backwards as the beasts came closer, and to her side her father’s paint horse pawed at the frozen ground.
“Accalites?” Viradin hissed drawing his sword again. “Father, what do we do?”
“We see what they want, boy. They won’t harm us; we already bent a damn knee to them,” Arganti said, his expression of irritation now shifting to anxiousness. He looked to his left at his personal guard but the Darcovian elf, dressed in full mail, was staring down the Serpents.
It was obvious that these were no regular Serpents. Although they wore chainmail shirts like standard knights, their jerkins and capes were trimmed with red instead of solid black. This was to show off their status of being the king’s personal knights, called the Sentinels. The best of the best of the best, not only trained in combat but powerful mages as well.
Why were they here?
“Good afternoon, Lord.” One of the knights stepped forward. He was carrying a black shield with the draken sigil on the front, an emblem also on the backs of their capes. Even the dark accalites sported breastplates and gauntlets of the draken sigil.
This was no ordinary patrol.
“Sir Knight,” Arganti said in an off tone. “What is your business?”
The knight steered his horse towards the lord. A clean-shaven elf with short black hair and blood-red eyes that did all but scream his Dashavian status. He also had black tattoos that crawled up his neck that were broken up by thick pink scars.
“My business? My business is right in front of me,” the Dashavian said with a menacing smirk. Then in a flash he drew his sword and pressed it against Arganti’s throat.
Everyone in Arganti’s party started to shout at once, the sounds of swords being drawn out of scabbards mixing in with the nervous squeals of the horses.
“Let him speak! Stand down, all of you!” Arganti said. His eyes were bugging out of their sockets, his neck stretched back but already holding a stripe of blood that trickled down the sword. “What is the meaning of this?”
The Dashavian’s face broke into a grin. “It seems you have something that the king wants, Lord Arganti, and unfortunately for you… we can’t have any witnesses.”
“Father!” Taelie screamed. She looked around at the group, wondering why the escorts, or Viradin, hadn’t attacked them yet. But as her eyes scanned each face she realized, to her horror, they were all staring ahead blankly.
“V-Viradin?” Taelie whimpered. Her dark-haired brother’s once stoic face was now looking deep into nothing, his eyes glazed and void.
She looked back to the Dashavian – just in time to see him swing his sword at her father’s neck.
The sword partially decapitated Arganti. Taelie screamed as her father fell off of his horse, landing on the frozen ground which was soon being painted with the steaming squirts of blood that gushed out of Arganti’s neck. The Hold Lord of Alathéa held a hand to his throat, his eyes rolling around in confusion, before, spooked by the activity, his horse shifted backwards, stepping on the lord’s face and dislocating his jaw.
Taelie screamed again, paralysed with shock. She didn’t notice the Serpents around her getting off of their horses and quickly dispatching everyone else in the party.
“Viradin? Viradin!” Taelie shrieked. Her brother got pulled off of his horse by a Serpent and thrown to the ground. She heard a click and, with a snarl, the two accalites started tearing the heir to pieces in front of her. They both grabbed onto an arm and tugged, the cloth of his jerkin tearing, revealing his skin underneath, that same skin then became white as it stretched, before finally splitting, revealing snowy white bone that quickly became bathed in red.
The accalites dropped the arms.
One then went to Viradin’s face which he promptly tore off with a flash of teeth; the other one attacked Viradin’s stomach, making long lacerations in the elf’s flushed skin which quickly steamed from the heat of his entrails meeting the winter air. The accalite dug into the open wound and intestines spilled around its muzzle like an overflowing pot of stew, colouring the ground red and grey and filling the air with a disturbing coppery smell.
Taelie couldn’t move, all she could do was stare.
“Dim down her mind. I don’t want the little bitch to scream,” the Dashavian said, his voice slippery and slick. “Move the bodies off to the ditch; the snow about to fall will hide the blood.”
“Yes, Mage Tseer,” one of the Serpents said with a nod, blood was streaked down his face, making his blond beard appear red. “Anything else?”
Tseer smirked, his tongue licking his lips free of the stray droplets of blood that stained them. “Send a hawk to Erick. I want him to know I was successful. Come, let’s get out of here.” And with a flick of his reins Tseer’s horse jerked forward, and galloped down the road.
The two accalites looked up from Viradin’s mutilated body. They both took into their jaws an arm each, before bounding down after their master, their leashes trailing behind.
23
Where can you go where the grass is green?
The drink is plenty and the food’s a dream?
A place along the way and down the road,
A place I call Al’Anea’s Alcove.
As the giant mason horses steadily made their way through the foot of snow, the Hold Lord of Valewind filled the forest with song. His voice was deep and booming and when they travelled down to make their way through narrow valleys it even echoed off of the rock faces.