by Geno Allen
Molly let out a sobbing sound as she pushed through to speak. “It’s Raine, Zam. It’s Raine.... You’ve painted an exact likeness of my daughter.” Another sob. “It's beautiful.”
Galwen pushed aside tears, “That’s even the dress she wore the day they took her. That courtyard is in the slave market east of Valkiliar. I know it well. That is where my first master purchased me… before losing me to Alanak in a tournament.”
Zam reeled at learning the girl in the painting was Raine and that Galwen had once been a slave in that very place. How can I have painted such things?
Somewhere inside himself Galwen was walking around the slave market, reliving unpleasant memories. He continued, only half-present, “In that courtyard I lost my mother. She was sold, and I was left alone.” His face grew more grim. “Do you see the flag hanging from the arch there? It is the standard of Coriaer, traders from across the sea. When it is flown, the market is rife with slavers peddling Coriaeran women. Some were harlots in their homeland, and others were stolen from their homes and brought to the market. Cairemian women are taken back to Coriaer to serve also in that ignoble profession. Again, some willing, some not.”
Zam’s heart dropped. He stared at the painting… the beautiful young woman with long, amber hair. She’s Raine? He had to let that sink in. That radiant smile would not be her expression if she was found in that courtyard.
When he first painted it, Zam believed the courtyard something of his imagining, but it existed, had a history, and an unpleasant one at that. He pondered this as he traced every part of the painting. The banners he had painted were in fact a sign that Raine was in danger. Her beauty and spirit were such that she would be one taken unwillingly.
That can be the only reason I would have painted her in this place with that heraldry behind her. Before he knew it a passion began to rise inside him, building almost to a rage. “Galwen, she cannot be made that sort of slave! It... it would break her.” Overwhelming sorrow flooded through him. “She cannot be made to live that life. I must go there.” He turned to Molly. “I swear, if it is in my power to do so, I will keep her from this fate. I will leave tonight!” He turned to Galwen. “But… I need direction. Can you show me where the Great Bridge lies?”
Raine’s plight swirled in Galwen’s mind and for a moment he could not speak, but then an encouraging thought dawned. He placed his hand gently on Zam’s shoulder. “There is yet some time, Zam. You need not leave tonight. We will plan this. You will leave tomorrow once we have made preparations and found my old maps. This painting tells me Raine will be in danger, not that she is. That standard flies in autumn.”
Galwen's calm eased some of Zam's fear.
“The slave traders used to say the Coriaeran standard heralds the best warmth that can be had in winter. There was vile intent behind the saying, but remembering it serves us now: they sell in mid-fall to prepare for winter. We have more than three months before Raine is in real danger.”
Galwen looked at a map hung upon the wall. “Were you to take well-traveled roads, you would arrive mid-winter if you arrived at all. The Heights are perilous even in autumn, but the road through Darlandis will bring you there more speedily providing no fell creature impedes your progress. Tonight we plan. Tomorrow you take this next step.”
Zam’s mind still raced at the peril before Raine.
Galwen smiled. “It seems you are yet bound to the Dorria family.”
Molly agreed. “Two daughters imperiled, and one young champion sent to bring them back. You bear the heaviest weight of our family as if it were your own, Zam. If for nothing else, for that our hearts are with you.”
Galwen placed both hands on Zam’s shoulders, looking him squarely in the eyes. “And Zam, I don’t believe this deed is the end of your quest. I love my granddaughter, and I am grateful that you are the one sent for her, but there is something greater yet in all of this. What? I do not know, but there is more.”
“But, I'm afraid, Galwen. What if I fail? I could not bear that. To know the sorrow my failure would bring….”
“Son, do not worry about that which is far off. You have been called to this by Elyon. And you battle with your heart—with all your heart—for that reason, I believe you will succeed.”
Zam’s gaze dropped. “It is strange, Galwen. I fear this more than my battle with the dragon. It saddens and frightens me in a way I don’t understand.”
Galwen pulled him into a fatherly embrace. “Son, you bear this burden so closely to your heart that it lightens mine. Were any other man to take up this quest, I could not trust his heart to act as mine would, but yours will. In that I take comfort.” He pulled back and lifted Zam’s face to meet his own. “Now, if we’re to plan this right, I need to find my old maps.”
The morning was solemn and sorrowful. Zam had shared with the family where he was going and why, and there were a great many sad and tearful faces as the children said their goodbyes. Each one fairly well demanded that Zam return unharmed.
Keerin gave Zam an apple. “Who knows when you will next find wholesome food.” Laise and Tannis hugged him from either side and told him to beware of dragons.
Little Keer jump up and wrapped his arms around Zam’s neck, whispering, “You killed a dragon before, so I’m not worried, but some of the family is worried, so… just don’t take too long… or they might think you’re dead.” Zam smiled at that and Keer continued with a frown. “And… um… I’m gunna miss you.” he gave Zam's neck a squeeze and jumped down. When he did Rheen ran up, hugged Zam, and told him to “Be safe.” then ran back to the rest of the family.
Next was Tearis. She looked at Zam with that hero look again and left her mother’s side. As she approached he knelt down to meet her face to face. “Thank you for believing in me, Tearis.”
She smiled cheerily “You’re welcome, Zam. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome as well.”
She put her arms around him and held tight, sadness filling her voice. “Don’t forget my song….”
“You mean this part, ‘May it be little time till I return to you’?”
Tearis nodded.
“I won’t forget.”
“And, Zam, bring my cousin back with you. And tell her I’ve missed her.” Tears started welling up in her eyes. “And I will miss you, Zam.” She hugged him tightly.
“I will miss you too, little girl with such faith in me.” Tearis let go and looked at him in a different way, as if searching him.
I wonder what this new look means?
She smiled. “You will be a while before you return to us. But that’s all right… It’ll be worth it.” With that she squeezed his hand and ran off to her mother’s side.
Zam smiled again. Sometimes she just knows things.
Dorrin was the last of the children to say his goodbyes. He and Zam took a walk as Galwen packed the last of the provisions.
Dorrin started in. “So, first you save my sister from a dragon, and now you’re off to free my cousin from slavery… and what of me? I get the adventure of staying home. You leave me few heroics.” Mischief played in his eyes. “I think I will be angry with you for a while. Then, at some point, I may find it in my heart to forgive you. Perhaps by then you will have returned.”
Zam smiled. “I hope your anger doesn’t last too long. I hear that can upset ones stomach… or was it their mind? Or perhaps it was both. I would hate to see your stomach and your mind set against you when I return. It might give me the advantage in sparring, and that could be uncomfortable for you.”
Dorrin rubbed the spot on his back that Zam had struck so hard that day by the stream and they both chuckled at the memory then a more serious look came over Dorrin. “Zam, I do wish I were going with you. Your bravery in Darlandis amazed me, but I fear you passing farther into the dark wood. I wish I could go with you… to aid you in this quest.”
“To protect me I think is your true aim, since you know you’re still a better swordsman than I. An
d I thought it was the fact that I survived, not my bravery that amazed you. I thought you knew I was brave, just unskilled.” A wry smile crossed his face.
“Well, there is that.” Dorrin grinned, then hugged him. “Just be sure to remember all Grandfather and I have taught you… and come back to us.”
“I will, Dorrin.”
Galwen, Molly, Barea, and Darik—the farmer who had cleared the watchtower of its unsavory occupant—waited to say farewell. Barea repeatedly thanked Zam for all he had done for her and the family. Darik told Zam he would miss their times talking by the watchtower.
Zam smiled and looked from Darik to Barea and back, then wished him luck, and Barea looked quizzically at them for their interchange.
Molly embraced Zam. “Remember, there will be help along the road, and hearts to welcome you when you return.”
He held her embrace for a long moment, and her motherly affection filled him with strength.
“I will bring Raine back, Molly… if Elyon decides.”
She kissed his forehead. “Then may Elyon decide in your quest.” At that she turned and went back to the others.
Only Galwen remained at Zam's side. As they walked alone to the edge of Rivertowne, Galwen said, “There is so much I wish I had time to tell you, but alas, time is not our ally this day. I feel haste in leaving is your greatest asset. If all goes well, you should arrive at the slave market with at least a week to spare, providing you make constant progress.”
Zam nodded. When they reached the beginning of the old path past the blacksmith’s, Galwen stopped and Zam turned to say his final farewell before re-entering Darlandis. Behind Galwen he saw seven children standing in a row far down the road watching and waving. He returned their wave and Keer hopped up and down.
Galwen embraced Zam as a father would. “Take this.” He handed Zam a small sack of coins. “It isn’t much but it might help you bargain for Raine. I have been saving it for just such a time.”
Zam took the coins.
“My heart goes with you, Zam. Would that I could join you, but that is not my path. I have known for many years that I would never return to Darlandis… or if I did, that my life would end there.” He smiled a bit and added, “Which is well enough since I have no great desire to cross that way again… save to see you safely through. I don’t know what trials you will face on the road. That is not in my hands. But I know your heart. You will do well. And when you doubt your ability to fight through, just remember... you were chosen for this task, and Elyon will decide.”
“Thank you, Galwen. I'll remember.”
Galwen handed him a bag of rations. Zam smiled and took it.
“You have your sword?” Zam nodded. “The staff the messenger gave you?” Again Zam nodded. “Your book?”
Zam smiled at Galwen's repeated concern. “Yes.”
Then Galwen asked his most profound question yet. “Are you ready?”
Zam pondered that a moment. How far I’ve come from tending sheep. Me—shepherd-turned-dragon slayer—setting out to rescue a ‘fair maiden’ His life suddenly paralleled the stories Galwen’s grandchildren loved so much. He did not know the battles ahead, but he was certain this was his quest. This was the time. And….
“Galwen, I believe I am ready.”
Galwen smiled. “Good. Then take with you this last word of advice: Sometimes the best course of action might seem, on the surface, the most foolish. For some reason I feel that might serve you in this quest. But remember this, you must know when. I’d hate to see you rush off and do something foolish because you only thought and did not know.”
That is an odd bit of advice. “I will keep that in mind.” He clasped Galwen’s arm. “Goodbye, Galwen... for now.”
Galwen returned the gesture then Zam turned and took the next step.
CHAPTER SIX: INTO THE DARK WOOD
Zam plodded along the path, following the crude map Galwen had made all those years ago. It looked as though he would pass very close to the clearing where he had battled the dragon. How many dragons must live in this wood? It gave him pause to realize he had no idea, nor did he really know what other sort of creatures he would likely encounter… save possibly Sinji' Grimmals and the Seritheen.
Mile after mile stretched out before and behind him. The dark soulless trees loomed all around, and every now and then he saw the fiery trees that glowed and shimmered as if producing a light of their own. Those and the brilliant emerald trees he'd seen before were the only things to kindle hope in him, but this time they seemed to spark determination as well. You will succeed. That is what they seemed to be saying to him as the breeze swept through their boughs.
After much travel that first day Zam arrived at the clearing where he had defeated Crimthorn. Many black scales were strewn here and there, as well as what was left of the dragon’s frame lying in a large circle of charred earth. He picked up one of the scales, a memento to always remember what he had accomplished. It was about half the size of his palm, shaped like a small shield, hard as steel, and polished like glass. He wondered whether it had been polished that way by the blaze that had consumed the beast or whether some other force had left it in this state. That thought sparked another: What set the beast ablaze and left it in this condition? Can another dragon have taken residence in Crimthorn's home? He quickly looked about the clearing then tucked the scale into his satchel. There seemed to be more of the fiery trees encircling the clearing than there were before. And once again they reminded him to hope.
He got his bearings and set out northeast. This part of the wood was lighter, filled with more of the fiery and emerald trees. The path branching ahead seemed dark one moment, but brighter and filled with a few more of the brilliant emerald trees at second glance.
Many more hours he traveled, passing through light woods then darker, over hills and small streams that trickled down into the Great River Moriella—as it was called on Galwen’s map. After some time the landscape shifted and Zam found himself traveling uphill. Given his lack of experience with maps, he assumed he was approaching the Great Bridge that spanned the chasm in eastern Darlandis. He didn't know it at the time, but he wasn't close at all. The urgency of his quest was ever present in his mind. Night began to fall, and still he had not reached the bridge.
Long shadows fell from the trees, and the great shafts of light bursting between them dwindled as the sun crept down beyond the hills. Soon there would be no light at all and he would be forced to stop for the night or risk greater dangers. As the light ebbed he began to hear a rustling in the shadows and recalled some of Galwen’s advice.
“In some woods a campfire is a greater danger to you at night, leading enemies to you, places that such a fire would bring nothing good, but Darlandis is not such a place. There are things in that wood that cannot stand the light, and regardless of what the fire may draw, what it keeps away will be well worth it.”
Again Zam heard the rustling, and stopped. The sunlight was not altogether gone so he quickly gathered some dry wood and began to build a fire. Time and again he tried to light it as the sun crept lower. More rustling, closer this time. Zam clicked the flint and rock together numerous times, and fire sprang up at last.
As firelight filled the woods, shadows shot back from the trees driving with them the creatures that had been creeping up. The rustling sounds hastened and moved farther into the darkness in every direction. Zam sat near the fire with his sword drawn and peered out into the dark wood. Nothing… no sound out of place… no shadow that danced too much. Zam pulled some dried meat from his satchel and tried to set his mind to other things.
The forest loomed about him and he felt uneasy. He stared into the fire and rubbed his hands together as he realized the ferocity of the cold that was setting in with the sun down. A moment came when a fear of what the fire might draw began to creep into his mind. Suddenly the breeze was a villain, the sound of every swaying branch a fiend.
Zam pulled out Graffeon's book and began to read, trying
to keep his mind from telling him ghost stories. The exhaustion he'd earned from a hard day’s march soon overcame him. He began to doze. Each time the fire began to dwindle, the rustling beyond the trees began again, seemingly closer. Blearily he asked himself, is it really drawing closer or is the wood simply playing tricks on me?
Suddenly there was rustling very nearby. Zam leapt to his feet with sword drawn. The fire was almost out, and the movement he heard was only a few yards away. He cautiously stoked the fire—never dropping his guard—and the creatures in the dark moved away once more. He was now determined to stay awake, and each time he heard the rustling he stood with sword drawn. And every time the fire dwindled, the creatures returned. This is how Zam Windwater spent his first restless night in Darlandis.
The sun crept over the horizon and Zam, having not slept a wink, was grateful to hear the unseen creatures rushing away as quickly as the sun broke through the trees. The fierys and emeralds seemed to amplify the light in the area surrounding him, giving him a long awaited sense of safety. The soulless trees seemed to shrink away from the sun’s onset.
Maybe I can finally get some rest without fear of whatever was hiding in the dark. A deep, resonant growl rose behind him. He quickly spun to meet the sound, but it seemed behind him yet again. He surveyed the area with a wary eye and realized the growling was bouncing from the ground, the rocks, the trees, playing tricks with its direction. He couldn’t determine its source or distance.
His fears whispered to his mind. Whatever it is, Zam, it may be right behind you. He shuddered and hurriedly gathered his belongings. Looking over his map, he set out in the direction Galwen had said to go. He swallowed his fear, not knowing whether the creature was before or behind him.
He kept his sword drawn and staff handy, intent that he would stab or smash anything that tried to attack. For a long while he walked cautiously. After a short distance the growling stopped. When Zam was certain he had left the creature behind, he sheathed his sword and walked more freely. A while longer and he was paying more attention to the landscape than the land he was traveling through. After another hour or so he reached the bald crest of the hill he had been climbing and had seen for miles before that.