Origin

by Samantha Smith

  Ayron and Elwyn walked back to camp, ate a cold breakfast, and got ready to depart. They were both eager to leave this land and reach Silvendil land. They moved slowly during the morning. They had to skirt several areas of deep swamp water and lead the morden through several miles of shallows filled with dark brackish swamp water. The drakenhawks flew in large circles looking for any sign of danger. By the time they reached a stretch of dry land large enough to take a break, it was well into the afternoon. The morden went immediately to the small pond nearby to quench their thirst. Elwyn and Ayron cleaned the mud from their legs and dried off their sweaty bodies as they drank. Elwyn, Ayron and Keroc were not as parched as the morden because they had been drinking from the waterskins during the morning as thirst set in. After drinking, the morden walked over to a patch of marsh grass and began to graze, while Elwyn and Ayron ate some jerky, travel biscuits, and dried fruit for lunch. After all too short a time, Gral signaled that it was time to move on. Even though the heat and humidity drained much of their energy, Ayron and Elwyn were anxious to depart.

  The afternoon turned into evening and the swampland slowly gave way to dry land. The little group found that they could travel much faster through the thick woodland with the werecats as their guides. Gral and Dras were always very patient with them. One of the werecats moved forward to scout the area ahead of them for danger, while the other always stayed within sight of Ayron and Elwyn, picking out the safest way through the trees. The moon was bright overhead and even though much of its light was kept from them by the thick forest canopy, there was enough light to see by. After a while, they noticed the forest started to thin out quite a bit. They crossed a large stream of running water that seemed clear and smelled fresh. The scent of decaying vegetation was no longer in the air. They were beginning to see some open meadows mixed in with the patches of thick woodland. The werecats stopped at an open meadow on top of a small hill. Elwyn could hear rushing water, but could not see its source. Gral let her know that they had just crossed the border into Silvendil. He suggested that the group make camp for the night and then continue their journey to Findara in the morning. He said that he knew it had been a long day for them all. Elwyn thanked him and Dras, and asked them to convey her thanks to Madrigal as well. Gral bowed before her and left silently, suddenly no longer in sight.

  “I wish I knew how he does that,” Elwyn said shaking her head. “It’s as if they just disappear. I would like someone to teach me how to do it. It might come in handy if I want to sneak off to be by myself or if I ever encounter another shadow squad,” she said with a laugh.

  “I would like to learn that technique as well and then teach it to my soldiers,” Ayron said thoughtfully. “It would certainly come in handy against any enemies we encounter.”

  “We have finally arrived in Silvendil, uncle,” said Elwyn as she slid down from Gemma’s back. “Gral said that Dras scouted the area and felt that this would be a good place for us to camp and get some rest before continuing on to Findara. He said that we might also be able to contact our friends from here,” she added as she stretched her sore muscles.

  “I know that I could use a rest and some food,” said Ayron as he dismounted from Gerrack. “I think I’ll wait until I have some sleep before I try to contact Kierra or anyone else,” he said with a sigh. “I’m so tired that I’m not sure that my mind is clear enough for serious conversation.”

  Within minutes they had unsaddled the morden, sent the drakenhawks to hunt, started a campfire, and were fixing something to eat. While the meal cooked, they unrolled their bed pads and took turns feeding Keroc. After a quick meal, both Ayron and Elwyn settled down to get a few hours sleep. They both knew they would need all their strength for the next leg of the journey home.

  Chapter 36 – Silent Killers

  Elwyn woke suddenly to an urgent whisper in her head. “Grab your weapons. The enemy is here and headed toward you”

  As abruptly as the whisper came, it left. Elwyn quickly jumped to her feet, put her short sword in its scabbard, strapped it to her waist, and grabbed her bow and quiver. She noticed that Ayron was doing the same. He motioned her over to him.

  “Elwyn, I think that we may be dealing with at least one shadow squad if not two, he croaked in a hoarse whisper. “We may only have moments until they are upon us. Try to make your way to Gemma and pick off the archers as you locate them and I will wait here for the swordsmen. Make sure to contact Toruk and ask for his help as well. Now go!”

  Elwyn started to speak but Ayron motioned her away. She knew that he wanted her as far from the campsite as possible by the time the assassins reached it. She quickly contacted Toruk who was already on his way back from hunting to join the three drakenhawks he left to protect them.

  “Who gave the alarm,” she asked Toruk, as she ran across the meadow to find the morden.

  “It was the werecats. They were keeping watch and saw them come from the shadows. There are eight of them. The werecats are fighting them now along with Raski, Morn, and Filn. I will be there in just a few minutes with Kamir and Nissl. We were hunting close by.”

  “When you return Toruk, please help Ayron at the campsite. He is trying to make a stand there by himself,” thought Elwyn as hard as she could.

  Elwyn ran over and jumped on Gemma. As she and the three morden started moving across the meadow searching for the assassins, she briefed them; only to find out they already knew what was happening. As soon as she realized that they knew about the attack, she sent Raffe and Gerrack to help Ayron fend off the swordsmen until the drakenhawks could join them. She and Gemma crossed the meadow and searched down by the creek to see if she could spot the enemy archers. She located the first one by following the arrows that were being shot at the drakenhawks and tracing them back to their source. The archer sat up in a small tree near the creek shooting arrow after arrow into the midst of the fighting. Elwyn was not even sure that he cared who got hit. She jumped up on Gemma’s saddle so that she was standing, took aim, nocked an arrow, and fired. The assassin fell from the tree. She quickly rode over to where he lay, jumped down from Gemma’s back and stabbed him in his heart. She shuttered as blood spurted from his wound, over his clothing and out onto the ground. The horrid metallic smell of blood in the air assaulted her nostrils.

  One of the assassins spotted her and ran over to where she stood, his sword drawn. Elwyn had forgotten just how fast the assassins were and was grateful that she’d had some time to rest. The fight ended quickly though because Gemma struck the assassin in the shoulder which knocked him slightly off balance. Elwyn took advantage of his loss of concentration to stab him in the throat with her short sword. As the assassin lost his balance and went down, Gemma reared and crushed his chest with her hooves. The smell of blood grew stronger as she jumped back up on Gemma and rode closer to the battle taking place by the creek.

  Ayron knew that he had little time to prepare before the assassins reached the campsite. He also knew that there were two shadow squads and not one attempting to assassinate the two of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gerrack and Raffe headed to join him. Just as three assassins crested the hill, he saw four drakenhawks dive in front of him facing the assassins head on. Ayron sent Gerrack and two drakenhawks toward the assassin coming from the left. He ordered Raffe and the other two drakenhawks to attack the assassin coming from the right, and he drew his sword and dagger preparing to fight the assassin coming directly at him. Ayron saw what he could only interpret as a look of surprise on the flat mottled green face of the assassin closest to him. Ayron didn’t know if it was because Elwyn wasn’t with him, or that he was not alone and easy prey. He hoped Elwyn was able to stay out of the heaviest part of the fighting. Since she was the assassin’s primary target, he knew that it would be difficult to keep her from being attacked. He hoped that by sending help to her, she would remain unharmed. Of course he hadn’t counted on her sending them right back to help him fight. Just as he drew his sword and prepared to mee
t the enemy, Keroc told him to relax because Elwyn had already slain two of the enemy. Ayron was now able to focus on the coming battle; he knew his niece could take care of herself.

  While Ayron prepared to face the three assassins, Elwyn was busy looking for the other archer. She and Gemma headed west along the bank of the fast flowing creek to where she could see the werecats and drakenhawks fighting two assassins. Elwyn pulled Gemma to a stop as she spotted the second archer standing on an outcropping of rock on the far side of the creek. He was trying to shoot at the werecats. The problem was that the assassins, werecats, and drakenhawks were so intertwined, that he was having a difficult time finding a target without the risk of hitting his own comrades. Elwyn hopped up to a standing position on Gemma’s back, thankful that they had practiced shooting this way many times. She quickly nocked an arrow, took aim and let it fly. Again, her aim was true and the archer fell from the rocks and landed in the creek. She rode over to the fallen assassin and jumped down from Gemma’s back preparing to slay him. Before she could, Gemma reared up and came down on his head with her hooves. Elwyn watched as the small whitecaps in the creek around them turned red from the assassin’s blood.

  A short distance away, the other two assassins were busy fighting for their lives against the two large werecats and the two drakenhawks. Elwyn sent Gemma to help Ayron and ran over to help the werecats. It was difficult for her to get a shot off with her bow, but she managed to shoot one of them through the chest while he was trying to escape to the trees. The werecat made sure that he never made it back to his people to either give a report or worse, to get more help. Elwyn reminded them that there were three more assassins at the top of the hill. The five of them attacked the remaining assassin ferociously. The swordsman was overwhelmed and quickly succumbed to his wounds. No one knew who struck the fatal blow; they just knew that he joined his comrades in death. Not even stopping to catch their breath, Elwyn and the werecats rushed up the hill to join in the rest of the fight while the drakenhawks flew overhead.

  Ayron wasn’t having an easy time of it. He was tired from his journey to Amarni, his grueling ride to Kren, as well as from the rigors of crossing Wheryn. He hadn’t been able to rest enough to fully recover his energy and he could tell he was tiring quickly. Unfortunately, the assassin knew it as well. To make matters worse, he tripped over one of the stones surrounding the fire pit and pulled a muscle in his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the morden and the drakenhawks battling the other two assassins. They seemed to be locked in a stalemate with neither side able to gain an advantage.

  Ayron forced himself to focus. Reaching deep down inside of himself, he called upon his seasons of military training and felt his adrenaline kick in. He quickly jumped up, and matched the assassin’s attack stroke for stroke. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep fighting like this, but he was determined to give it everything he had and more. Suddenly his opponent slowed and got a strange look in his eyes. Before Ayron could respond and take advantage of his opponents’ weakness, the assassin fell down face forward, almost knocking him off his feet. Standing on the other side of the assassin’s body was his niece and protruding from the assassin’s back was a dagger that could only belong to her.

  Elwyn nodded quickly to her uncle, turned, and rushed over to help the werecats, morden, and the drakenhawks dispatch the remaining two assassins. She nocked an arrow as one of the assassins dodged an attack and reached for his dagger. Her aim true, the assassin fell dead, but not before one of the werecats brushed up against the edge of his blade. The other assassin fell dead either from the critical wounds inflicted by his opponents, or from blood loss. It didn’t matter; the enemies were all dead and the threat of assassination had been eliminated once again.

  Elwyn ran over to check on the wounded werecat. She knew the moment she drew near him that it was Dras. He was sitting still and panting hard. Elwyn asked him to lie down and show her the scratch. He was so weak already that he almost fell at her side. He extended one of his forepaws and she could see a thin scratch that ran about two inches along the front of his leg. Elwyn told herself that she was unwilling to see another friend sacrifice his life for hers. She ran quickly to her saddlebags, pulled out some herbs, some clean cloths, and the bottle of medicine that the drakenhawks brought for Keroc. She asked Ayron to put some water on to heat and bring it to her when it was hot but not boiling.

  “What are you doing Elwyn; you must know that Dras is already dead. His body just does not know it yet,” she winced as she heard those words in her mind.

  She ignored Gral and addressed Dras directly, knowing that Gral would hear her as well.

  “Dras, you only have a slight scratch from the assassin’s blade. I am going to put some drawing herbs on it to draw the poison back toward the cut. Then I am going to give you some of the medicine that the drakenhawks brought me to treat Keroc, who was wounded by an assassin’s arrow. I will give you some that has been diluted to drink, and put some that is full strength directly on the wound. But you must also join us in fighting for your life. We are going to try to keep you hydrated by feeding you water. If you find you can’t respond any other way, you should be able to blink when I ask questions. Now remember, we must both fight this poison if you want to live.”

  Ayron brought Elwyn the hot water, and for the next five hours she worked non-stop determined to save the life of the werecat. First, she drew the poison back toward the wound, and then treated the wound with some of the medicine brought from Findara by the drakenhawks. During this time she also fed him water, the diluted medicine, and some broth that Ayron made from the salted meat. Dras did his best to cooperate but as the poison began to take effect, he had to focus all of his strength on just continuing to breathe. Dras’ fever rose higher with each hour that passed. Elwyn had her uncle go soak her cloak in the creek so that she could keep his body as cool as possible. Ayron did this same thing countless times during the five hours they worked to save Dras from death. The sun came up and still they continued to repeat the process, over and over again. Just as the sun passed directly overhead, and about twelve hours after they started the process, Dras raised his head and looked at her.

  “I will live and I owe you my life, little one.”

  Elwyn looked up at him from her position by his injured leg, smiled, and said, “No, we owe you ours. If you and Gral had not stayed and stood watch, we would all be dead right now. We are still in your debt, my friend.”

  “It is amazing how one that looks like a helpless cub, can do such wonderful things. I am in your debt as well, for Dras is my brother, communicated Gral gratefully as he looked deeply into her eyes.”

  Dras, still weakened from the poison, put his head back down and along with Ayron and Elwyn slept deeply until dusk. While they slept, the drakenhawks and Gral patrolled the area looking for signs of another attack. As the sun began to set, Dras got to his feet, stretched, and let out a roar that echoed through the valley below them. Elwyn felt sure that he was saying that he was glad to be alive. Even Ayron laughed.

  “I think it would be best if you and Ayron packed up and headed north. When the assassins don’t report back, they may send more,” Gral said to Elwyn in a series of graphic images. “Dras and I will shadow you for a few hours and then head back into Wheryn.”

  Elwyn shared Gral’s advice with Ayron, who was only too happy to pack up and leave their current location. None of them were comfortable with the dead bodies of the assassins lying around, and the air still smelled slightly of blood. Elwyn gave the morden a once over, looking for wounds. The morden seemed immune to the assassin’s poison, but they weren’t immune to infections. Ayron, in the meantime broke camp, packed up their things, and filled their waterskins. When he was finished, they both said their good-byes to the werecats, thanking them again for saving their lives. As the cats silently disappeared, they mounted the morden and headed north toward Findara.

  As they rode, Ayron deflected some overtures by E
lwyn to talk over the events of the past twenty-four hours. When she asked him if something was troubling him, he said that he needed to think some things through. Ayron didn’t want to talk, especially not to her. He had just witnessed his niece kill five out of the eight assassins sent to kill them. She did this without any military training or even competent combat training. According to Keroc, her accuracy with a bow was unmatchable and she would put even the best trained elven archer to the test. Keroc said that he had never seen her miss a shot. But, at the same time, he had also just witnessed her spending the last twelve hours fighting for the life of a werecat that should have been dead. His niece was an enigma to him. She was stronger, faster, brighter, and braver than anyone he had ever met, human or elf. Plus, she possessed the skills and the heart of a master healer. She was almost like a younger version of Lady Silvenna, who brought the elves out of the Unknown Land to settle in Silvendil alongside the humans that lived there. But Lady Silvenna was an elf of very ancient and powerful bloodlines. Although she was well over six hundred seasons old, she was definitely still a force to be reckoned with. He really wished that he could take Elwyn to her so that his grandmother could meet her and perhaps explain to him why she was so different than other half-blood elves.

  As Elwyn rode along on Gemma, she tried not to think about the attack the night before. She was so tired of having groups of assassins pop out of nowhere to attack her and whoever she was with. She hated to kill anything and was worried that having to kill these attackers was changing who she was. Elwyn loved and valued life and would rather save one than take one. She also wondered how much longer the attacks would continue now that she had crossed the border into Silvendil. Since she knew that no one here knew of her existence, the assassins had to have been sent by her mother’s uncle, King Stefan. She was still very puzzled as to why he was so determined to end her life. She was no threat to him and couldn’t see herself becoming one in the future. She hoped that Ayron could shed some light on the subject, but he seemed very preoccupied and not in the mood to talk. Maybe when they stopped to camp she could ask him about Stefan and why he seemed so determined to assassinate her.