by E. V. Greig
Chapter Nine
Slo’annathorys was tired of walking. The tall grass hid a great deal of horse manure, in various stages of decomposition. After two weeks of travel he had come to despise the feeling and smell of it beneath his bare feet. “I hate horses. I hate wyrms, I hate horses, and I hate walking barefoot. I want new boots, a decent meal, and wine. When I find the others that is what I will see to next.”
He wondered what had become of the Living Rose. He had dropped the weapon as he was snatched from the cedars. Had the others found it? Do they suppose me to be dead? I should not wonder if they do: I have been gone for over half a season!
Ahead of him, he spied the tents of an Ullensian clan holding; the hides daubed with stylised images of rowan trees. As he watched, a thick mist descended and then rose. A mob of riders emerged in its wake: whooping and cheering. Their leader dismounted, dragging a familiar figure with him. “Make ready the mead and lay fresh furs in my tent! I have found my bride to be!”
The sylvanth cursed his luck as he dropped to his belly in the long grass. Ullensians are never without cold iron blades and arrows: I dare not risk an open attack. Perhaps I can use the shadows once dusk has fallen.
He heard Kaiwan cry out then: a mix of anger and fear as she was forced to her knees. The eldest woman of the clan daubed her brow with a mixture of honey and mare’s milk. “Once you are wed, you shall be given the markings of our clan upon your skin!”
“I shall not wed him! Let me go!” Kaiwan tried to cast again. The wind began to rise about her.
Naikran clouted her hard about the ears and tied a crudely worked amulet about her neck. “This will stop you from casting, ungrateful one!”
Kaiwan gasped and tugged at the cord. The knot was too tightly fastened to be undone: it would need to be cut through. She grabbed for Naikran’s dagger. The clan chief laughed and slapped her hand away. “I am more than able for you!” He caught her by the hair and dragged her towards his tent. “Stop fighting: you belong to me now!”
“You will not get away with this!”
“Ha – who is there to stop me? Your outlander friend is miles away from us, with my spear though his heart!”
She punched him hard in the throat and he collapsed. “I will stop you myself then!”
Naikran’s warriors laughed and formed a ring of spears to prevent her from fleeing. The clan chief got slowly to his feet and drew his dagger. “Hold her! I will carve the mark of the Rowan Tree clan onto your brow early, wife!”
Slo’annathorys stared helplessly. They will cut me down before I have taken two paces if I intervene! And I am no use to Kaiwan dead, after all. She will survive this: he does not mean to kill her; that much is obvious. I will wait until it is dark enough to nightwalk and then spirit her away with me.
He closed his ears to Kaiwan’s screams as the blade dug into her skin, and clenched his eyes shut as she was carried bodily into the tent. Putting his mind into a deep trance, the sylvanthi swordmaster laid still and silent in the long grass: awaiting the setting of the sun.
∞∞∞
Gilvaneous wondered what his estranged son was doing in Ullensia - one of the few places on Graymyrh where his powers could not penetrate. The Antlered God hid His chosen kingdom well from prying eyes. Gilvaneous was not truly a God himself, although he wielded much of Haph’s power. Still, Slo’annathorys was bound to leave that land eventually, and then Gilvaneous would be free to observe him once again as he wandered the world: playing at being a hero.
∞∞∞
Kaiwan struggled as Naikran bound her wrists behind her. “May Ullen strike you down for this!” The wind howled through the tent at her words, and lightning crackled up beneath Naikran: burning him to death from the inside out as it hurled him across the furs. There was the smell of wet horse and the sound of hooves stepping carefully. Kaiwan rolled onto her back and gasped at the being that stood over her.
He was tall: twice as tall as any sylvanth, and broad of back. His long hair was silver. It hung in a glowing curtain to His waist, where His smooth pale skin gave way to a pair of white furred legs that ended in cloven hooves. His ears were long and pointed, and His eyes were eternally shifting in colour. A pair of silver antlers emerged from His head. There was a sad look to the God’s angular features as He bent and lifted her from the furs. A wall of glowing mist engulfed them both, and Kaiwan lost consciousness.
∞∞∞
The spider watched the angry human male with the black carapace intently from the entrance to its tunnel. It sensed its God’s pain, and knew dimly that the human’s actions were a part of it. The creature was conflicted: Vethnorn commanded that the humans be protected, yet the humans rejected His gifts at every turn. Perhaps if one of the silk blooded could be found, then the matter could be resolved. But there had been none of such folk born within this region for almost a century now. The followers of Anyo had purged the race, perhaps into extinction.
Still, there were rumours: whispers upon the longest strands of survivors living in exile amongst the grelnathir of the north. If the spider could find one such, then they could talk to the angry male and explain the truth of Vethnorn’s gift to him. But then again, what if the black carapaced one had gone by the time that the spider returned? Or if the Anyosians attacked the silk blooded one?
There was only one logical solution to the problem. The spider would have to take the black carapaced one to find the silk blooded. He was maimed anyhow: perhaps a time cocooned in its silk would allow him to heal, although humans were not known for their ability to do so. Still, it could not hurt to try. So resolved the spider crept forward and waited for the angry male to come closer to its tunnel.
∞∞∞
Bandhir was halfway into the saddle when the glowing mist surrounded them. “Nala – is this the mist sylth that you spoke of earlier?”
“No; this is different, human! This is not the work of any mere mortal!” The ulnyr pulled Drithik and Saylii close to her side. “Keep beside me, both of you – it would be unwise for you to wander now!”
The mist faded and a tall, antlered figure stepped into view. Kaiwan lay unconscious in His arms. Her brow was covered in blood and her arms were bound behind her back. There was a crudely worked amulet tied about her neck. The skin beneath the cord appeared blistered.
“Who are you, stranger? What has happened to Kaiwan?” Bandhir held out his arms as he walked towards the newcomer. “Give her to me please. I shall care for her.”
The entity handed her to him silently and stepped backwards into the remains of the mist. Lightning sparked about His hooves and then He was gone. Drithik wriggled free of Nala and ran forwards to examine the spot. “What sylth is this?”
“That was Ullen Himself.” Nala trotted over to Bandhir and Kaiwan; Saylii following her. “How badly is she hurt?”
“She is bruised, for the most part.” Bandhir knelt and freed Kaiwan’s wrists. “And someone has carved a tree upon her forehead! The wound is shallow: it can be easily healed, although it may scar. No – it is this amulet that troubles me the most, for there is something strange about it and her neck is blistered where it has touched her.”
Drithik peered at the amulet carefully. “That’s a witch bane: it blocks sylth! She’ll go mad if it’s left on too long, or worse.”
Bandhir cursed and attempted to slide the tip of his dagger beneath the cord of the amulet. “It is too close to her skin! I risk killing her.”
The veldaan ran back to their campfire and fetched a glowing ember. “You can burn through the cord with this!”
“Well thought of, Drithik.” Bandhir seared carefully through the cord and the amulet fell away. He cursed softly as he examined the blisters. “These will need lancing! The one that did this to her shall pay dearly.”
Kaiwan opened her eyes. “Efrym?”
“You are safe now. Tell me who did this to you.”
She rubbed at her neck. “It was Naikran...but Ullen struck him down...there
was mist...!”
“There aren’t many that the Gods themselves will intervene for.” Saylii handed Bandhir a strip from her dress. “You can bind her head with that for now. The silk will keep it clean.” She set to work mending her garment with fresh strands of silk that she drew from the glands on her inner wrists and ankles.
Nala stroked Kaiwan’s hair. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“He wanted me to marry him. He tried to force me!” Kaiwan shuddered at the memory. “I fought, I fought as hard as I could, but they would not let me go!”
Bandhir wiped away the blood and bandaged her head. “Did he rape you, Kaiwan?”
“He was about to when Ullen stuck him down and brought me back to you.” She winced as he examined the bruises on her face and arms.
“Brave warriors indeed: so many needed to capture one unarmed woman!” Bandhir was furious. At least she remains unspoilt, for the most part, although that brand will scar.
Drithik had fetched a darning needle from his belongings. “I heated it in the fire to clean it. You can lance the blisters now.”
Kaiwan shrank back against Bandhir. “Do we have to?”
“I am afraid so: well, unless you are happy to die of blood poisoning?” The immortal took the needle from Drithik. “I can give you something to drink that will dull your wits a little, if you would like?”
She shook her head. “Let me try something else first.” The Ullensian cupped her hands over the blistered skin and closed her eyes. A pale glow spread out from beneath her fingers as the healing energies did their work. When she lowered her hands, her neck was once again unblemished.
Bandhir blinked and drew back the bandage from her head. “You are completely healed! That is a powerful ability indeed, my love.” Their companions uttered a chorus of whoops as he kissed her and lifted her up onto Seranor. “Come now: let us put miles between us and those fools that would harm you!”
“But the pass into Ixran is on the far side of the Rowan Tree clan’s grazing lands.” Nala frowned. “And if we go north, the shamans will be waiting for us!”
“Then we shall go east: into the mountains that divide this land from Anyosia.” Bandhir pointed. “They seem to run as far as the eye can follow. Presumably there is a route down into the desert from them at the southern end.”
∞∞∞
Slo’annathorys crept through the dark of the Ullensian encampment and entered the chieftain’s tent. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of charred flesh. Then his foot alighted on the corpse and he sprang backwards. He is dead! But where is Kaiwan?
Opening his mind to the shadows, he searched for her. To his surprise, she was miles to the north: sleeping under a stand of pine trees on the eastern mountains. Slo’annathorys supposed that she had found some way to cast after all: perhaps she had rid herself of the amulet whilst her captor was distracted by her body. I did tell Lonrari that she would learn of such things eventually. It is a pity that it had to be this way.
Still, she was alive, and that was all that really mattered. Draping the hide of a deer about his shoulders, the sylvanth gathered up a spear and shield. Then he allowed the darkness to swallow him once again.
∞∞∞
“Has anyone seen the boss?” Squeaky wandered through the camp. “Alyrra – is Hugo about?”
“No; he went for a walk. I think he was checking to see if there was any sign of the spider nearby.”
“He needs to get over that thing. It’s not healthy for a man to be so obsessed.”
The healer shrugged. “He won’t listen, you know that, Squeaky. Although he’s quick enough to hear your tales against me, I suppose.”
“Here now – what’s that supposed to mean?” The Anyosian man was indignant.
“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I want something that means more than a quick tumble? Did you not think that I might have been glad to put my old life behind me and perchance settle down with a good man?” She shook her head. “I’m not a whore, Squeaky. Not now: and before it was never my choice.”
Squeaky swallowed hard at her words. “I’m sorry, Alyrra. But he has a girl back at Briersburge anyhow: Kaiwan, her name is.”
“Aye, well mayhap you should let him decide which of us it is that he wants!”
“Alright, alright: I’ll keep out of it from here on in!”
“See that you do.” Her voice was suddenly cold and shrewd. “Unless of course, you want your own secret told?”
He backed away from her. “I don’t know what you mean, Alyrra. I ain’t got any secrets!”
She smirked at him. “I know what that pendant that you always wear is for, Squeaky. It allows a shifter to hold their human form. To guess by your nickname, you’re one of the spoilers: the gnawers – a rat that wears a human skin!”
Squeaky flinched at her words. “Please, don’t tell the others: I turned my back on it years ago, I swear!”
“Well then, you’d best stop interfering in business that doesn’t concern you, Squeaky.” Alyrra trembled as he ran from her presence. “I deserve my chance too!”
∞∞∞
Kaiwan curled in beneath the gnarled roots of the pine tree. There was no space for them to pitch the tent here, and Efrym was avoiding stopping anywhere for too long. He was patrolling with Nala at the moment: guarding against any further attacks. She glanced at where Drithik and Saylii were huddled beneath another of the trees. The dry needles were surprisingly cosy to lie upon. Still, Kaiwan was restless.
Something separated itself from the shadows of the boughs above her then and dropped to land at her side. “I have found you again, Kaiwan!”
She had cast instinctively at the movement and there was no time to prevent the spell from happening. “Oh no!”
Bandhir and Nala appeared at once, calling for Drithik and Saylii to wake up. The ulnyr reached her first. “What is wrong, Kaiwan?”
“My guardian – Slo’annathorys: he must have escaped from the wyrm somehow, for he appeared and spoke to me! But I did not realise that it was he at first. I panicked and have turned him into a shrew!” The Ullensian held up the tiny golden furred animal. “I do not know how to undo it!”
Drithik and Saylii were no help, for they collapsed with laughter at the sight of the clearly indignant little creature in her hands. Nala merely stared. “You can do that?”
Bandhir sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps, if we ever find a way to return him to his natural form, then he will know better in future than to creep up unannounced upon a sorceress!”
∞∞∞
Naomi stared down from the battlements at the approaching sylvanthir. “Misericord, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that their king?”
“It appears that their patron has arrived in person to pay a visit to you, my Lady.”
“I suppose there’s no way to avoid it then.”
“Doubtful, my Lady, although diligently shall I of course endeavour to divert him do you so desire it?”
“No, I’ll meet with him. It may prove fruitful, I suppose. At the very least, we may finally discover the real reason that Gilvaneous sought to ally with us.”
“My Lady mistrusts him?”
“More than slightly, my brave blade: I reckon that he is not the type to act without there being a benefit to himself.”
“Could he care for the fate of the hapless par’anthir within Briersburge, my Lady?”
“Given what Luath went through? I doubt it.” Naomi nodded to a nearby page. “Run and tell my uncle that the sylvanthi king has come to visit!”
∞∞∞
Kaiwan set Slo’annathorys upon her shoulder as they rode southwards along the mountain trail. “I shall find a way to change you back eventually.”
“Perhaps now is as good a time as ever to inform him of recent events?” Bandhir glanced down at the shrew. “Kaiwan and I are lovers, my friend.”
Slo’annathorys merely twitched his long snout. And what am I supposed to do about it – t
hrow a banquet? Threaten to kill you if you harm her? I am a shrew, you idiot skree’akh!
Bandhir leant forward and kissed Kaiwan’s neck. “He took the news well, all things considered, my love.”
“I hope that he can forgive my transforming him.”
“I am certain that he shall, sorceress.”
When I get my true form back, I shall enjoy beating you to death with your own leg, skree’akh. As for Kaiwan, no doubt Lonrari will want to have words with her!
Drithik cleared his throat. “You do know shrews have to eat constantly, and that they only live for a year and a half, at the most?”