Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1)

by Smith, Jacquelyn

  “We dare not light the fire again,” Lysandir said.

  “How am I supposed to see?” asked Hidar, who was still on watch duty.

  “I will keep watch until dawn,” Iarion said. He was awake now anyway and could see far better than a Lesser Man in the dark.

  “Do you think it saw us?” Hidar asked.

  “If it did, we would already be dead,” Lysandir said. “Now get some rest while you can. We must reach Dwarfwatch tomorrow at all speed. It could have been a routine circuit, but we cannot take any chances.”

  Everyone settled on their bedrolls, trying to shake the terror they had just experienced. In a matter of moments, Iarion could hear Barlo’s snores. The elf made himself comfortable and stared out into the night. Sinstari padded over and stretched out beside him. Iarion laid a hand on his warm fur.

  The hours between midnight and dawn passed quietly. Iarion roused the others as the first pale fingers of light crept over the eastern horizon. Everyone seemed recovered from the events of the night before. They ate a cold breakfast and saddled their mounts, riding north once more. The snowcapped Mountains of Wind rose before them in the distance. Iarion hoped Dwarfwatch would be the haven they needed before crossing into the dark lands.

  They rode for several hours without rest. As they approached the southern branch of the Sunset River, Iarion found himself looking at the sky. It was a cool, clear day. Only a few white clouds drifted overhead. Other white forms appeared. Iarion frowned. They were gulls.

  He was reminded of the one he had seen when he, Barlo, Lysandir, and Silvaranwyn had set out from Melaquenya. What were they doing so far inland? It was beyond Iarion’s understanding. The gulls seemed to follow their path as they rode.

  When the group arrived at the river, they dismounted to water their horses. Sinstari also took a long drink of the cool water. The gulls circled overhead.

  “What do you make of that?” Iarion asked Lysandir, drawing him aside from the others.

  Lysandir squinted. “Strange. I do not know what they mean, but Saviadro does not use gulls as spies. My brother, Feoras, does, but his domain is far to the east. If he sent them, the birds would approach us, not circle like that. Silvaranwyn?” The Learnéd One beckoned the Linadain over. “Can you make contact with those birds?”

  Silvaranwyn looked up. Her golden eyes unfocused and a small creased her brow. After a few moments, she shook her head.

  “They are beyond my reach.” The words came out in a breathless rush, as though even this small task had taxed her.

  “What do we do?” Iarion asked. The others were beginning to notice the birds as well.

  “Although I hate the thought of delay, I think we should stay here and rest for a while to see how they react. I do not like the thought of our passage being tracked.” The wary tone in Lysandir’s voice gave Iarion the impression the Learnéd One suspected something.

  “Is it really a good idea for us to stay put?” Hidar asked. “We are in open country here. What if they are circling above us to reveal our location to someone nearby?”

  “As you say, we are in open country,” Lysandir said. “We will see anyone long before they approach. I wish to find out whether the gulls will move on if we stay put. Once they do, we will continue on our way, unwatched. I do not want to arrive on the doorstep of Dwarfwatch with an army on our heels.”

  They waited. With their horses watered and now grazing, the group ate a brief meal. The gulls continued to wheel overhead. It was unnerving.

  “Could you not just shoot one of them to scare them off?” Hidar demanded. “We are being held hostage by a flock of birds!” He looked to Iarion.

  “I dare not draw even more attention to our location,” Iarion said. “And we still don’t know whether they were sent by friend or foe.”

  “This is madness.” Hidar leaped to his feet and shook his fist at the gulls. “Leave us, stupid creatures!”

  Iarion rose to calm him, but the gulls did one last circuit before flying off to the east.

  Was their departure linked to Hidar’s outburst? There was no way to tell. Regardless, Iarion was relieved they could move on. They mounted and continued on their way, scouring the area for any sign of the gulls’ master as they rode.

  They found nothing.

  Iarion let out a relieved sigh as they reached the southernmost arm of the Mountains of Wind.

  Then the Forsworn One flew overhead.

  – Chapter Twenty –

  Chance Meetings

  The Forsworn One was a dark blight in the clear blue sky. The horses bucked and reared. Linwyn was the first to dismount, having learned from her experience on the battlefield at Belierumar. The others followed her lead, taking hold of their horses’ bridles and speaking calming words. The Forsworn One seemed to be looking for something. To see such a dark creature aloft by day was a dangerous sign. It circled overhead, searching. They had not caught its attention.

  Yet.

  Silvaranwyn passed her reins to Iarion. She had already managed to calm her horse. The Linadain stood apart from the others and tilted her face upward, closing her eyes. No one dared ask what she was doing. They were all too busy with their own mounts. A frown of concentration creased Silvaranwyn’s face. Golaron was watching her, heedless of his panicked horse.

  Silvaranwyn seemed to struggle with some invisible force. Beads of perspiration broke out on her furrowed brow. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides. Iarion could sense an internal battle being waged and cursed his helplessness.

  Moments later, the Forsworn One’s drake veered to the east with a harsh cry, and flew out of sight. Silvaranwyn collapsed to the ground. Golaron was the first to her side. Everyone gasped as he helped her to her feet and she slowly raised her head. Her skin had lost its golden hue, having faded to the same bronze complexion as the twins. Her hair was scattered with dark strands. And her eyes… Her once golden eyes were now a bleached-looking silver.

  Golaron grasped her by the shoulders, giving her a shake. She was limp in his arms. “What have you done?” The words came out in a horrified whisper.

  “We would have been found.” Silvaranwyn’s voice was ragged. “I forced myself into the mind of the drake. It was almost too strong for me. But I could sense it was hungry and tired, so I enhanced those sensations until it disobeyed its rider to return to Nal Nungalid.”

  “You should have let it find us!” Golaron snapped. “Lysandir has already dealt with two of the creatures, and the rest of us could have helped.”

  “She was right to do as she did, Golaron,” Lysandir said. “If we had been forced into a confrontation with a Forsworn One up here in the northlands, so close to our enemy’s stronghold, it would have only drawn attention to our location. Our best defense lies in secrecy. And I already told you, the Forsworn cannot be killed. I only destroyed their mounts in Belierumar, a task that nearly killed me.”

  “Better you than Silvaranwyn,” Golaron muttered. If Lysandir heard his words, he pretended otherwise.

  “We must take advantage of the time Silvaranwyn has bought us,” the Learnéd One continued. He gave Golaron a pointed look. “Do not let her sacrifice have been in vain.”

  Iarion tied a lead rope between Silvaranwyn’s mount and his own. Golaron had already helped her onto his horse and swung up behind her. She was in no condition to ride on her own.

  “He killed two of the drakes?” Hidar asked Iarion, his eyes wide. Iarion nodded. “That is no small feat.” The man looked at Lysandir with newfound respect as he mounted.

  Lysandir dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and led them off once more. They skirted the foot of the mountains by veering northeast. It was only when they reached the northern branch of the Sunset River that they were forced to turn south to reach the ford and make a crossing. Everyone except Silvaranwyn and Barlo dismounted to lead their horses across. Silvaranwyn remained on the back of Golaron’s mount, clinging to the horse’s neck.

  The water was icy cold as
it churned southward out of the mountains to eventually fill Sky Lake in the heart of the Upper Daran Nunadan. Sinstari leaped from rock to rock to cross. Once they reached the opposite bank, it was only a short distance to the Great North Road.

  “Must we take the road?” Hidar asked. “It feels too exposed.”

  “I do not like it either, but it is the only way into the mountains,” Lysandir said. “If there is another passage, it is known only to the dwarves who live there. We have no choice but to chance it.”

  They remounted with nervous glances southward toward enemy-held Nal Nungalid. A cloud of dust appeared before them as they neared the road. Iarion drew his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Linwyn and Golaron’s swords rang free of their sheaths. Behind him, Iarion felt Barlo shift to free his ax.

  Iarion leaned forward, trying to see through the dust. Shadowy forms took shape and sharpened. He slung his bow back over his shoulder.

  “Lower your weapons,” he called to his companions. The others frowned, but obeyed. He dismounted and approached the road on foot.

  Now that they were closer, the others could see as well. It was a ragged group of human women and children traveling on foot. The few men that accompanied them were either elderly or wounded. They were all Greater Men. Iarion held out his empty hands in a gesture of peace as he approached. The men drew ranks around their charges and held their swords ready.

  “I mean you no harm,” Iarion said in a calm voice, speaking the Common Tongue.

  “You are no Wild Elf,” one of the men said. “What dark trick is this?”

  “My name is Iarion. I am what you would call a Wood Elf from the forest of Melaralva to the south.”

  “You are far from your home then.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

  “You are fleeing Nal Nungalid,” Iarion said. The man nodded. “Tell me what happened there.”

  “An army of dark creatures and men fell upon us from the east. They were led by a Forsworn One. We had no warning. Most of the men defending our city died in battle. Once they had taken Nal Nungalid, the dark ones turned to the women and children, raping and slaughtering anyone they could find. We are all who managed to escape.

  “We have been making our way north ever since, trying to reach our allies at Dwarfwatch. But it is slow going with such a group. We have had to stay off the road as much as possible and live in the wild to avoid being found.”

  The man’s haggard expression attested to the difficulty of their journey. He refocused on the elf. “You still have not said what your business is in these parts.”

  “I am no friend of the dark creatures,” Iarion said. “And if I wished you any harm, I would only have to call over my friends.” He gestured to the rest of his group, who remained at a distance. “We are also traveling to Dwarfwatch. We have been to Nal Huraseadro. The reason you had no warning of the attack is because most of their men died trying to defend the Pass of Stars from an army even larger than the one in your city. Lord Andiraron likely tried to send warning, but I suspect his messenger was waylaid.”

  “You bring evil tidings.” Iarion’s words spread through the group. “We had hoped Nal Huraseadro would come to our aid.”

  “I’m afraid the best you can hope for is that the dwarves will give you refuge.” Iarion allowed his regret to color his voice. “My friends and I would try to help you regain your city, but we have pressing matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps we can escort you as far as Dwarfwatch, since we are going in that direction anyway.”

  “We do not need your pity,” the man sniffed. “Besides, what could be more pressing than our situation?”

  “Something that could destroy the Fallen One and his armies,” Iarion said. “And my suggestion was not based on pity, but common sense. You look like you could use the help.”

  As the leader debated this quandary, another cloud of dust rose from the south. Iarion shaded his eyes to look.

  “You have run out of time,” he said. “A scouting party of dark creatures is headed this way. There is no time or place for you to hide.”

  “It seems we have no choice but to trust you,” the man said. He and his companions turned to face the approaching enemy.

  “Then send anyone unarmed to flee for the mountains. Let them run to Dwarfwatch while we hold off the enemy.”

  The man nodded his agreement and spread the word. Iarion whistled for his horse and trotted back to his companions to tell them of what had passed.

  “We can meet them here and gradually fall back to the mountains, buying them time to escape,” Linwyn said after Iarion had finished explaining.

  “I do not like compromising our secrecy,” Lysandir said. “But I suppose we cannot ride onward and allow these people to be slaughtered. I cannot help you, or the Forsworn One will know for certain we are here. Let us hope it does not return. I will take Silvaranwyn to the mountains with the others.”

  “Here,” Iarion said, tossing his pack to the Learnéd One. “Take this.”

  If he should fall in the coming battle, Lysandir and Silvaranwyn would have to continue on alone with the Levniquenya. Although this was Iarion’s quest, any elf could bear the touch of the Quenya. Iarion could only hope Silvaranwyn would not have to go in his stead.

  Golaron surrendered the elf woman to the Learnéd One, helping her onto his horse. Iarion dismounted and lowered Barlo to the ground before remounting. Iarion had no desire to share a mount with him when his friend would be swinging his ax.

  Iarion bent low and made eye contact with Sinstari. The cat looked up at him with curious eyes.

  “We hunt,” Iarion said in Elvish. He pointed at the dark party rapidly approaching. “Them.” Sinstari lowered to a crouch and growled.

  Satisfied he had done all he could in the time they had to prepare, Iarion pressed his heels to his horse’s flanks and rode toward the enemy, not even looking to see if anyone followed. Sinstari loped beside him with long strides. Iarion drew his bow and nocked it as he rode, guiding his mount with his knees. As soon as he was within range, his arrows began to fly. He heard shrieks as each one found its target.

  Iarion emptied his quiver before any of them got too close. He swung off his horse and drew his knife to meet the onslaught on foot. None of the enemy was mounted. He spared a few words for his horse in Elvish, telling him to flee. Trained by the Beliadar, the beast didn’t hesitate to obey.

  Sinstari crouched at his side, waiting for the enemy to come to them. Linwyn, Golaron, and Hidar arrived on horseback. Their longer weapons had the reach Iarion’s knife did not. Barlo huffed behind them, trying to catch up with the armed men of Nal Nungalid, who were beginning to pass him. Iarion waited perfectly still and allowed the tension to mount as the enemy rushed toward them. The dark creatures had already spotted them and drew foul weapons of their own.

  The snarling mass drew nearer, and still Iarion did not move. Finally, sensing the moment had arrived, he charged into the fray. The others followed.

  Iarion collided with a hairy ogre. He ducked its fierce tusks. The stench of the creature’s foul breath washed over him. He slipped behind it, spinning to deliver a hard kick to its back. It toppled to its knees with a grunt. He followed through by sliding his blade into the flesh at the base of the ogre’s skull, twisting. The ogre hit the ground with a surprised grunt.

  Iarion moved on to the next creature. And the next. And the next…

  Beside him, Sinstari was holding his own. The wildcat pounced on an unwary goblin, tearing out its throat. The cat’s dark muzzle was dripping with blood as he turned to rake his claws at his next target.

  A Darkling Man fell to the ground with a gurgle, Barlo’s ax buried in his chest. Linwyn sang a battle song as she trampled her enemies beneath her horse’s hooves and charged any dark creature that crossed her path.

  As always, Golaron was her shadow, protecting his twin from any attacks she failed to see. Hidar was also impressive, laughing and taunting the enemy from horseback in
his own dialect while skewering them with his spear. Soon the dirt of the road was soaked with blood.

  The men of Nal Nungalid fought with fierce desperation, but they had been fleeing for days with limited supplies. Many of them fell under enemy blades and tusks. A troll waded into the midst of the battle, sending friend and foe alike flying with its giant mace and fists. Iarion finished off the goblin he was facing with a slice to the throat and raced to meet the stupid thing, killing any dark creature in his path. Sinstari and Barlo followed.

  Iarion leaped in front of the raging troll and waved his arms to get its attention. Barlo circled around behind it. Sinstari held off any other creatures who tried to interfere.

  It took a few ineffective slashes from Iarion’s knife to get the troll to focus on him. It bellowed, sending a thick gob of spittle to land on Iarion’s shoulder. Iarion grimaced in disgust. It lifted one of its huge feet to trample the elf.

  Iarion was faster. He rolled out of the way at the last moment. As he rose to his feet, he saw a flash of metal as Barlo’s ax fell in a downward arc. The troll’s cry was nearly deafening as it toppled to its knees. The ground shook with the impact. Barlo had severed the tendons behind the creature’s knee.

  They had to take advantage of the situation now that the troll was vulnerable. Its tough skin gave it protection from most attacks, but Iarion had an idea.

  As Barlo circled to face the troll, Iarion clambered up its back with a nimbleness only an elf possessed. The troll tried to dislodge him, but Barlo and Sinstari forced its attention elsewhere by attacking from two directions at once.

  Although they couldn’t do much damage, the tactic worked and Iarion was able to scramble up to the troll’s shoulders and neck. He used the rough skin as footing to climb even higher until he was atop the creature’s head. It was only his heightened sense of balance that kept him from falling.

  Iarion drew his knife and lowered himself to his hands and knees in a crouch. At first, the troll tried to dislodge him, but Iarion remained fixed in place. After a few more attacks from Barlo and Sinstari, the creature forgot about the elf.