Avalyne Series 02: The Easterling

by Linda Thackeray

  ‘You had better,’ she winked playfully but her tone soon became sober once again. ‘So what is it you do not wish to tell me?'

  ‘There is an ever growing threat in my mind,’ Aeron confessed. ‘I can feel it pressing against us. It is coming from the Gahara.’

  Melia stiffened immediately, her gaze following his own to rest on the plateau range in the distance. ‘I know of what you speak. I feel it too.’

  ‘You do?’ He looked at her.

  ‘Not in the way you do,’ she clarified quickly. ‘Since Tor Iolan I have felt the pull of something whenever I am close to the places my mother might have been. It is the same as when I went into the dungeons and was drawn to her cell. She is trying to speak to me. I can feel it.’

  ‘It is not merely that which concerns me Melia,’ Aeron continued. ‘Until Tor Iolan, I had not given much thought about certain accounts that have come from these lands since the end of the Shadow War. However after your revelation that a mage may have travelled to these part, I am revisiting those reports and looking upon them in a new light.’

  ‘Of what do you speak?’ She asked.

  ‘Since the war, the goblins have taken refuge in the canyons that surround us. What puzzles me is why have they not returned to their former home? The Gahara Plateau is the perfect ground for them and yet they do not go there. If anything they appear to be avoiding it. It was thought that perhaps the krisadors numbers have grown so many that it was no longer safe for the goblins but the goblins are a canny race. Could the numbers of krisadors be that much of an obstacle to them?’

  Aeron had a point and she too, wondered if there was not something else residing in the Gahara that was keeping them away?

  Could it be the Mage who used his magic on her mother and the other River Daughters? What exactly had he done to them that he needed to spirit them away like thieves in the night? How had he become so corrupted that he was no better than Balfure or his Disciples? Melia was almost afraid to voice her thoughts but in the end decided she needed to tell Aeron of them. He was risking his life to help her and he knew a great deal more about mages than she did. Perhaps together, they might shed some light on what had happened at Tor Iolan.

  ‘Aeron, what do you know of Balfure?’

  Aeron looked at her sharply. So much had already been said about the Shadow Lord and truth be told, some of the accounts were more myth than fact so he understood the question if not the timing of it.

  Balfure had been such a big part of their lives these many years that he forgot that not everyone knew the truth about him. No doubt in years to come, Balfure’s legend would see many distortions to his tale but Aeron was long lived enough to remember the facts of it. Melia’s people had only seen the facade that Balfure had presented to them to gain their loyalty. Indeed, he had deceived the Eastern Sphere into thinking he was a god and a kind one at that.

  ‘Before his corruption, he was a seraf, a trusted vassal of the Celestials Gods. The mages are serafs too. Balfure was seraf to Maelog when Maelog was still one of the Celestials. When Mael broke with them, Balfure joined him and was the first of Mael's Dark Three during the Primordial Wars. Following him were Syphia and then Attean.’

  ‘The Dark Elf,’ Melia nodded in recognition, having heard the tale of Arianne’s uncle who was disowned by his family when he became swayed by Mael’s promises to rule. ‘What changed Balfure? Was it simply loyalty to Mael that caused him to fall into darkness?’

  ‘Surprisingly no,’ Aeron continued. ‘Tamsyn does not like to speak of it much but he does tell us that Balfure did not set out to rule. He wanted Avalyne to remain untouched. He believed the world the Creator made was perfect enough without the ruin that elf, man and dwarf would bring. Initially he joined Mael to vanquish the elves from Avalyne so it could be returned it to its former glory. Of course as the power corrupted him, what noble purpose he intended to achieve was lost to his ambitions. Before the Celestial Gods banished Mael, Balfure disappeared into the Burning Plains, along with anyone who wished to join him. Some of these were the Disciples.’

  ‘Such noble intentions twisted so terribly,’ Melia shook her head, thinking that Balfure was not the only seraf who was susceptible to this particular conceit.

  ‘I do not think Tamsyn could even comprehend it,’ Aeron said sadly. ‘Balfure was one of his own and I think it was an affront to all the serafs that one of them could be turned so irrevocably. I think there is a moment when one must know what line not to cross and sadly for Balfure, he did not see it until it was far behind him. ‘

  ‘They say that he created the Berserkers, that he bred men and goblins. Is that true?’

  ‘I am afraid so,’ Aeron nodded, grimacing at the horror of it. ‘They said that he took prisoners of both races and use dark craft to create a new beast. I suppose that it was the only way left to him after Syphia was supposedly killed.’

  Melia winced and could see now how the Mage they were seeking in Tor Iolan fell into the same trap. While Balfure wanted to create a new type of soldier for his armies, this Mage had sought to create perfection. The hubris of believing himself to be the equal of the Creator in such craft had brought him to the same ruin.

  ‘Prince, I have always known that when I found my mother, she would not be dead. I knew this with utter certainty because in my dreams I feel her life. I was convinced that she was being held against her will and now that I know what has transpired in Tor Iolan, I understand what has befallen her.’

  Aeron saw Melia's eyes fill with emotion and understood that the realisation was still hard for her to accept, that finding her mother would not be an accomplishment but rather a terrible tragedy waiting to unfold. Astride his horse next to hers, Aeron reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. ‘Tell me,’ he coaxed gently. ‘What do you understand?’

  ‘The Mage wanted to create something better than elves and men. He wanted to be just like the Creator. I think Balfure learned of what this Mage intended to do and tricked him into fashioning something that has not walked the world before. I think that whatever he sought to create, he did so using my mother and the other River Daughters to do it.’

  The enormity of what Melia was suggesting horrified Aeron intensely for it was more than just abomination, it was twisted and evil in a way that sent a cold chill running his entire being. Sprites and serafs, like the Celestials were children of the Creator, intensely powerful with their power linked to the many aspects of the world, the sea, the earth, the wind and air. Each played a part in the Cosmic Thread the Creator had used to weave the Universe.

  What did it mean when one strand of that tapestry was corrupted?

  ‘You think that the Mage has turned your mother into a creature of darkness?’

  ‘Creature yes,’ Melia nodded. ‘Darkness, I do not know. I only saw that it was against their will that they were turned into whatever the Mage intended and after that he was afraid of their power. At first opportunity, he took them from Tor Iolan to prevent Balfure from unleashing them upon his enemies.’

  ‘If that is so,’ Aeron questioned, ‘where have they been all this time?’

  Melia shook her head and was about to answer when suddenly Aeron lurched towards her from his saddle. He toppled them over to land on the rocky ground with a heavy thud. Melia was about to demand what he was about when her horse reared up on its hind quarters, braying in pain at the arrow that was now lodged in its neck. She had just enough time to register the blood when another arrow struck again, causing the animal to buck with pain once more. Aeron's horse, sniffing the blood began to stamp its hooves in panic, wanting to bolt.

  ‘Goblins!’ Aeron declared, recognizing the crude workmanship of the arrow shafts.

  ‘Now?’ Melia exclaimed in confusion. It was still daylight! Then she realised that nightfall was not far away and if the goblins crippled or kill their horses, they would be forced to escape the Gorge on foot. They could not hope to get far enough away before the goblins tracked hem down probably in lar
ge numbers.

  Melia's horse, a grey mare, took the worst of the goblins' marksmanship. By now the animal had dropped to its haunches and was seconds away from succumbing completely to her injuries. Wasting no time, Aeron grabbed Melia's hand and pulled her towards his horse, aware that their survival rested in putting as much distance between themselves and the goblins who were carrying out their assault from the safety of the fissures and cracks in the canyon walls.

  Aaron mounted his horse just as another arrow flew past him and embedded its point into a nearby tree. Melia lingered long enough to retrieve her crossbow but she agonized at leaving a wounded beast to the ministrations of the goblins. However there were enough arrows in the poor animal to ensure that it would not be alive when the goblins came. Hurrying away from her mount to his, she caught Aeron's outstretched hand who pulled her onto the saddle with him.

  The horse bolted as soon as she was seated with arrows flying after them. One tore through the fabric of her breeches, cutting close enough for her skin to bleed. Melia winced in pain but knew the injury was minor. Her arms slid around Aeron's waist as he rode hard through the Gorge, intending to reach the river if possible. Another volley of arrows flew at them from a different direction, forcing the Prince to steer away from the path that would have taken them there quicker.

  Melia glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed the goblins moving in the between the shadows of the rocky hills, peering through them from cracks and shaded rock shelves. Her heart froze at just how many of them there were, waiting for the sun to go down before they swarmed the area in search of food. In search of them, she thought. The goblins were taking full advantage of the hilly terrain that surrounded them as they escaped the Gorge.

  Leaving the narrow passage did not aid their case as the rocky hills no doubt hid many places from which the goblins could continue their attack. As arrows flew at them, Aeron steered the horse away, hoping to move to higher ground. He could hear water rushing and knew that if they had to, they could use the river to escape. Goblins did not like water and most did not know how to swim.

  More arrows came at them and Aeron shifted their path again even though he suspected there was some method to the goblins' action. He and Melia were being herded. The arrows were forcing them to take the path the enemy would have them follow. As they went higher, he dug in his heels and forced their mount to burst through trees, determined to find an alternate route to the river and penetrate the goblin blockade,

  ‘Keep your head low!’ He barked at Melia who took refuge in his shoulder as he himself lowered his head to avoid the branches snapping at them as they rode past the trees.

  The horse thundered forward through the uphill track, past trees and rocks, a slave to its master's demands when suddenly it came to such an abrupt halt that it did not entirely stop. Too late did Aeron see what it was that made the animal halt so sharply but could do nothing to stop what was coming. In the split second before they went over the edge of the cliff, he came to the unhappy conclusion that perhaps goblins would not be the death of them after all.

  The fall would.

  ‘What's going on….’ Melia demanded when she felt herself being propelled forward by the combination of their great speed and the sudden stop that followed it. Her words turned into a scream as all three toppled over the edge of the cliff into the dark waters of the churning river below.

  ******

  Aeron's horse reached the water first, breaking the tension with a great splash before the braying beast disappeared under the frothing river. Aeron and Melia followed, plunging feet first into the water below. A blanket of cold water immediately swirled overhead and drove them to the bottom of the river. It was hard to keep stock of each other after such a tumultuous landing and all Aeron could do to get his bearings was to follow the direction of the bubbles escaping his mouth to reach air.

  When he broke surface, he immediately sought out Melia and saw their horse struggling to reach the embankment. He couldn't see any sign of the watch guard at all and that filled him with a surge of sense of panic. It did not help matters that the current of the river was strong and was sweeping them further down its winding length with each passing moment.

  ‘Melia!’ He tried to call after her over the churning white water.

  There was no answer for a few seconds and he was ready to call out again when he heard her voice crying frantically for him from behind.

  ‘PRINCE!’

  Aeron whirled around in the water and followed the direction of her frightened cry to find her not far behind him. She had managed to surface long enough to utter that terrified cry but he soon saw why she was so frightened, because she was trying to keep her head above water. It took but a second to realize that she was not swimming or threading water but frantically flailing as the water threatened to drag her under once more. She disappeared again, only her arms visible as rapids swirled around her.

  She could not swim! Aeron realised with another surge of panic. Melia could not swim!

  Surging ahead, he broke into powerful strokes as he fought the current to reach her. The white frothing waters around him did not make it easy and finally he knew if he continued this way, she would drown before he ever reached her. Taking a deep breath, Aeron dove beneath the waves, descending deep enough for the current’s strength to diminish so that he could swim towards her.

  The elf reached Melia just as she went under again, her body bobbing up and down as it struggled to remain afloat. Trying to call for help, Melia's efforts only succeeded in more water rushing down her throat. With far more speed than he thought himself capable of, Aeron wrapped his arms around her waist just as she became completely submerged in the icy water. Securing his arm around her, Melia immediately clung to his neck and held on for dear life as he used their collective buoyancy to push them both to the surface.

  When they broke the surface, Melia was gasping greedily for air she had been denied almost to the point of death when he had reached her. She clung to him tightly as he tried to steer them towards the embankment but her added weight upon him and the strength of the river would not allow them to break free of its powerful currents. Aeron tried to catch sight of their horse and saw that the steed had been born further down river.

  ‘Hold on,’ he ordered over the sound of the rushing water and she complied with a frightened nod as he let himself relax no longer fighting the flow of the river. The rushing water was more than happy to accommodate them as it swept them further down its length, until they were moving so fast that it was difficult to keep track of the enemy and almost as difficult to keep the river from claiming them permanently.

  The river carried them further downstream for how long, neither Melia or Aeron could say but the water had frozen their limbs beyond tolerable levels and it was very necessary for them to leave its cold behind or else be seriously chilled. Neither had any desire to have that especially when it felt as if they were on the edge of the world or beyond it perhaps. Aeron knew that if his elvish endurance was teetering to the point where he was unable to withstand their situation, Melia would be in even worse condition.

  It was still light but the day was fading and soon their pursuers would be out in force. He could sense danger all around them but not from any specific place so he could not tell whether it was safe to make an attempt to reach the embankment. Catching sight of their horse staggering out of the water, Aeron headed towards it as the steed appeared exhausted as its hooves dug into the shale beach. It shook the water off its body and did not appear uneasy as it had been during their flight from the goblins.

  He started swimming towards the edge, deciding that the nearest shore was as good as any to make their emergence. Fortunately, his bow and arrows had remained fastened to his body as well as did Melia's crossbow. If there were to encounter the enemy, at least they would be far from defenceless. After what seemed an eternity, they arrived at the shore, almost completely exhausted from the effort because the weight of their clothes and th
eir weapons had increased the load upon them considerably.

  Aeron was rather surprised that they had managed to remain afloat whilst battling the river but would not question what little consolation that was to be had from their present situation. Upon crawling onto the embankment, they collapsed heavily against the sand, succumbing briefly to their ordeal in the river. Melia was already starting to shiver thanks the icy cold water soaking her skin but she was doing her best to tolerate it.

  ‘How is it,’ Aeron asked through his exhausted breath when he finally turned to her, ‘that you can fight as well as any man, shoot a bow better than most and I might add curse like a Lenkworth sailor but somehow forget to learn how to swim?’

  Melia scowled at him, ‘I come from a dry country Prince. We used our water for bathing and drinking, not anything as frivolous as swimming!’

  ‘But you have been in Avalyne for some time, did you never think to learn?’ .

  ‘No!’ She declared defensively. ‘Do you know how to sew?’

  ‘No but I know how to keep from drowning,’ he retorted and earned himself a shove.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ she grumbled, wringing the water out of her hair and quickly scanning the surrounding trees.

  Aeron was already on his feet and striding towards the horse that had sighted his master and came in search of their familiar scent, waterlogged as it might be. For someone who was soaked to the skin, he moved with surprising speed and made Melia swear under her breath when she stumbled about like an infant on unsteady legs, in her saturated clothes. She needed to get warm but could not even think about anything resembling a campfire until they were well away from here.

  The sun was setting and the goblins would not be far behind.

  ‘The saddle is gone,’ Aeron stated as he ran his hand across the bare back of the animal. Only reins still remained but everything else was swept away by the river. Aeron was accustomed to riding without a saddle but was uncertain if Melia was capable.

  ‘You first,’ he stated as he took hold of the reins and steadied the animal.