He smiled again. “What do you mean? Killing this old bitch? Why was I doing this? I hate to disappoint you, but it was just for a bit of fun. I was bored, and I needed something to do. Don’t look so shocked. She was old, she’s lived long enough. No one will miss her. Or do you mean, why did I hurt you? Well, you didn’t do what I’d asked you to. That wasn’t polite, was it. So you had to be punished. That’s understandable, is it not?” He grinned at me, a predator grinning at his prey before he rips out its flesh.
“If you mean, why have I lured you here, that’s just as simple. You did something there, in your little show, that mustn’t be. You know what I speak of, don’t you? You moved a little too fast, too quickly over that rope. It wasn’t natural. And it wasn’t legal. The King himself has forbidden it. And of course, doing something the King has placed a ban on must be prohibited. Unfortunately, this means bad news for you. The penalty for using magic is death. And as his representative, I am put in charge of enforcing the King’s laws.”
The king. There was only one king in this area, and that was King Gynt of Fer. But we were not in Fer now, it was still more than a two days’ ride to the border. Why would a servant of the king be in Ashenfields? Was it chance? Or had he waited here? It did not matter. He was here now, and I was in his power.
He would kill me. I had never thought about dying before. No, that wasn’t right. Once before, I thought I would not see the next day. Back then, I had been a child, half-starved, dirty and alone. It was a long time ago, but now my feelings echoed those that I had experienced all those years past. Again, I was alone, with no one to hold my hand in my last moments. No one would even know what had happened to me. Would they look for me? Or would they assume that I had run off, leaving them and thereby doing that what I had planned to do for years?
I did not want to die. But there was no strength left in me to keep on fighting. The King’s men were too powerful. I had seen what had happened to the old woman. The brute had made me watch her decay, and now I was wondering whether he would do the same to me. Would I become a pile of dust, lying in this abandoned house, with no one the wiser to what had happened?
Better to lie down now and die. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. I lay down on the floor, curled up like a cat in front of the fire, and waited for death to come. Forgetting all about the two men, I drew back into myself, getting smaller and smaller until I was a tiny flickering flame. I danced with the flames of the fire around me, getting closer and closer to them until I could feel their heat mix with my own. I let go, becoming one with the fire, burning without getting burned. There was no pain, no sorrow, no tears. I simply became something else. I left my body behind, and with it, all that I was.
But there was something holding me back, a small strand of ice that came towards me, like a glittering string. It began to wrap around me, quenching my flickering dance, until I could no longer move with the fire. The ice’s coldness hurt, and with that pain, I slowly became aware of my body again. The icy string pulled me back, further and further away from the beckoning flames, until with one final snap, I flowed back into my body. I lay there, hurting from some stabbing pain in my chest, unmoving. The strand of ice was still wrapped around me, cooling my mind. It felt threatening, yet I did not know what to do about that. The stabbing pain became bigger and bigger. Breathe, a chilling voice in my mind said, breathe. I opened my mouth and took in a big breath. The pain subsided. Panting, I rolled onto my back. When I opened my eyes, I was looking straight into the man’s eyes. He was bent over me, his face a grimacing mask.
“How easy it is to manipulate you. Have you no control over your abilities? Did no one teach you to guard your mind? Oh, I forgot. You’re an orphan.” He spat at the word, making it sound ugly and despicable. I must have frowned, wondering at what he meant when he laughed coldly.
“Pathetic. You didn’t want to die. It was me making you. I just wanted to see how far I could push you. And it seems that you are so weak that I can push you all the way, even to your death. It’s easy to plant a seed of thought into people’s minds, if you know how. And it was easy with you. Making you think that you had lost your way. Getting you here, following that woman. Convincing you that you should come in with her. Easy. Far too easy. I am already bored by your ignorance and weakness. But I am to get you to my master, and so to my master you shall go. And when I say go,” he smiled viciously and motioned to the other man who was now standing behind me once more, “I really mean be taken.” And that was the last I heard because the next second fireworks exploded before my eyes, and I was no more.
3
Blue Militia
After the invaders from the barbarian lands in the west had taken over the former country of Elasia during the Fifth War, a warrior lord by the name of Fer had a large castle built on the top of a large hill. He then crowned himself the King of Elasia, renaming the country as the Kingdom of Fer. When King Fer died, his oldest son became king, yet he died suddenly only days after his coronation. Some say he was murdered, some say he was weak and sick. The next heir to the throne, Prince Gynt, not only took over his older brother’s throne, but also created his personal honour guard, a group of soldiers and mercenaries that later become known as the Blue Militia.
The Blue Militia quickly turned to become a powerful police force that not only saw to the enforcement of their king’s will but also to deal with people that opposed him. One of the tasks assigned to the Blue Militia was the searching of magically inclined people. It is often said that their only purpose was to kill those magicians, but there are some who say that they only made them disappear, to be used in some other way. This is only speculation, and it has never been proven to date.
- A History of Fer, Jonas de Tourtur
There are only fragments left of this journey. Waking up, breathing in the wooden smell of my coffin. The swaying movement of the cart I lay on. The scratching of the cloth that was over my eyes and in my mouth. The stink of my own waste that I was lying in. The noise of several men talking, yet the words always out of my reach. Once, the sound of water flowing, when we crossed the Eternal River over to Fer. The restless sleep, that seemed to come from nowhere and would only last a short while. The stale bread I was fed from time to time, the mucky tasting water they made me swallow. And always, the feeling of being on a mental leash, with icy barbed wire curling around the outer edges of my mind.
One evening, they opened the wooden coffin and pulled my limp body out onto the grass. They removed the gag from my mouth, bound my hands behind my back and sat me in front of a tree. My shoulders, hurting from the claustrophobic position within my wooden prison, leant gratefully against the trunk of the tree. Someone came and a metal spoon was pushed to my mouth. Hungry as I was, I swallowed the slimy mush they fed me, but far too quickly, the spoon disappeared. I was left sitting there, still blindfolded. I heard them start a fire, but its warmth did not reach me. The late summer evening was chilly and I was shivering in my short dress. I could picture me there, wearing a tattered, soiled dress, grime and dirt covering my entire body, my hair filthy and unkempt. What a sorry sight I must make. The rough rope that bound my hands chafed and scratched. Still, it was great to be outside again, being able to breathe the fresh summer air.
The cooler it got, the more my guards seemed to talk and drink. They did not come close enough for me to understand what they were talking about, but I was glad to have some privacy. The food and drink, though the aftertaste was making my mouth taste foul, had given me back some of my energy. Left to myself, I had time to think. The cool air seemed to drive away the fog that had cluttered my mind ever since I had been hit on the head at the end of that horrible night when they had captured me. At some point during the journey here, more men had joined the two others. By the noise and talk I heard, I estimated them to be at least five. The magician with the soft voice had travelled with us, his icy leash was a constant reminder of his presence.
Suddenly, I noticed that this was no longer th
e case. The band of ice around my mind was not as strong as it had been earlier today. It was still there, yes, but there were small fissures appearing. The leash was thawing. Maybe the sorcerer was no longer travelling with us, or he had become careless. No matter why, I would try and use this new development for bettering my situation.
I relaxed and carefully extended my conscience to feel for the weak points of my mental shackles. There were many to be found; some cracks were small, others almost large enough to severe the icy bond. When I touched them with my mind, it hurt slightly, but not enough to keep me from exploring them. There was one large crack, its edges thawing slowly. Soon, the band would break, I was sure of it. And when it did, I would be ready. My guards had made one vital mistake. They had sat me leaning against a tree. A tree.
Night had fallen by the time my bonds finally dissolved. I had used the past hours to convince myself that I did indeed have a chance to escape. And I had come up with a plan. I didn’t know whether I could succeed. So far, the only special skill I had discovered was how to slow down time. Tonight, I would have to try out something else. Ironically, the tricks the sorcerer had played with my mind had given me confidence that I might have the power to do more than to play with time. While he seemed to be able to conjure power from thin air, I relied on borrowed energy from plants. And my bound hands were touching the thick bark of the tree behind me.
I slowed down my breathing and focused on the cold air flowing into my lungs. Once I had found my inner centre, I began to ignore the world around me, retreating into myself. Calmness was all I aspired, being mirror-like lake in the midst of chaos. Slowly, I extended my senses. I could feel other people around me, and I carefully moved my mind towards theirs. Six consciousnesses burned like silver flames in the darkness. I could not make out their gender, but I assumed they were all men. It would be easy to quench those flames, had I got enough energy at my disposal. Instead, I pulled back and once again extended my senses, searching for the tree. I was looking for something as large as a tree, but there was nothing. The more I searched, the more I felt my energy being depleted. I turned my focus to the ground. There were flickering dots of energy, the half-squashed blades of grass on which I sat. Taking their life force would cost as much as it would gain. Still, there was no sign of the tree. I had never tried using a tree for energy before, there was no experience to fall back onto. I tried a new strategy. Centring myself on my own body once more, I felt my back lean against the tree trunk. There, our bodies touched, there I might have success.
In my mind, I imagined a tree, high and wide, a majestic crown of leaves around its branches. Its thick bark was its best defence against threats of any kinds. Its leaves were too many, I would not be able to get much energy from them. But down below, deep in the earth, I could feel its searching roots, spreading through the ground, changing their width from as thick as my body to as thin as a human hair. I chose one small root system and followed it up to where it met others. The root was tingling with water it had claimed from the earth, and I took this water from it, pulled softly until not just water, but pure life energy was flowing towards me, taking up speed until a stream of energy was washing over me. It threatened to overwhelm me, there was nowhere to store it. The hard-won energy fled back into the ground, leaving me tired and exhausted. This would not work.
I leant back against the tree trunk and took some deep breaths. My guards had forgotten to put the piece of cloth that served as gag back into my mouth. But calling for help was useless; it would only draw their attention to me. I tried to discern what they were doing by sound alone. Some were talking, another made some noise that sounded as if he was cleaning or putting away the dishes.
One more try, I told myself. Then I could sleep. Not now, one more try.
This time, I searched for the mind of one of the guards. I focused on the silver flame burning and wrapped my consciousness around it. Maintaining this state was wearing me out. With another tendril of my mind I went down into the ground, once more searching for roots. When I had found some, I slowly began to sap its energy. Instead of taking it for myself, I channelled it through my body until it reached the flame in my grip. Carefully and very slowly, I began to quench the flame until it flickered softly. Somehow, I instinctively knew that the man was asleep now. Killing them was not an option, I would not take the chance of killing one and then not having enough energy left to deal with the others. I pulled back and chose another flame to quench.
After making five of the six men fall asleep, the tree’s energy was almost depleted. I could feel it ache and shiver at the effort to transport water up the stem. Taking the tree’s last reserves, I quenched the last man’s flame. Just when I wanted to pull back again, the tree died. Its life force flowed into me, and with it came pain that slammed into me. Instinctively, I let it pass through me and into the man. He screamed, a high-pitch sound that made me shiver. It filled my heart with dread. I had done this; I had caused his suffering. Then, it stopped. I searched for his flame, but deep inside I knew: I had killed a man.
I needed to leave, now. I wiggled on the rough ground until my face touched the bark of the tree behind me. Pressing my head against the wood I managed to slide the blindfold up until I could finally see again. I spotted a knife lying next to one of the unconscious men and let myself fall forward until I was lying on the grass. Using my bound legs to propel me forward, I crawled until I reached the knife. A moment later, I had cut the bonds that secured my hands behind my back. Stretching my aching arms, I felt tired and worn out. But I could not stay there, I had to move on. Around me, there were five men lying on the ground, all looking like they had collapsed where they had stood or sat before. Their sleep seemed deep, but I took no chances and tiptoed around them, avoiding any unnecessary sounds. I picked up a sheath and belt for the knife and attached it around my waist. After a quick search of the camp, I had made myself a bag filled with dried meat, a few apples and a bottle of fermented wine. There were two horses that stood some distance away from the camp, bound to a lonely birch tree. They were stocky animals, not used for riding but for hard farm work. Their harnesses lay on the ground next to the cart. On the cart, a long box was secured with ropes; this was the coffin I had been kept in until earlier tonight.
If I took one of the horses, I would be much quicker than if I were travelling by foot. But horses were difficult to hide, and while I could change my own appearance, I could not change that of my mount. One of the men snored loudly, and I jumped. I had lingered here too long already.
I hung my bag over my shoulder and started to walk away from the camp. Assuming that we had really crossed the Eternal River and were in Fer now, I had to turn west to get back to the river crossing and therefore the way back to the Plains. Maybe Luca and his company had stayed in Ashenfields after I’d vanished, maybe they were looking for me. I had talked about leaving them for so long now that maybe they thought I had finally taken off. I wasn’t a child that they had to search for, I had seen twenty-five summers already. They probably assumed I had just dreaded to say goodbye. But then, I hadn’t taken any of my clothes or belongings. Surely they would be looking for me. Surely.
I looked up at the stars. Ever since I had been a child, sitting on the vardo at night with Mara, I knew my way around the night’s sky. Finding all four directions was easy if you knew which stars to look at. There were the nine stars that made up the bear, which during summer appeared on the southern horizon. Close by was the child, my favourite constellation. If you looked closely, the stars formed an infant lying curled up on its side. But tonight, I was looking for the serpent. Her stars shone brightly, the only thing more resplendent was the moon, a perfect half-circle. She would guide me on my way home.
I ran and ran until I couldn't run anymore. Then I walked as quickly as I could, dragging my aching body through the darkness. My bare feet had stopped hurting some miles ago, now numbness was spreading through me. But I continued on, driven by the sardonic smile of the magic
ian whose laughter was echoing in my mind. On I went, and on, until I was limping, and still I walked, following the serpent in the sky.
With me, I took the image of the dead man lying on the grass, behind him the dead tree, its brown leaves splattered on the ground, its brittle branches swaying in the light breeze. I had killed today. What that would mean for me, it didn’t bear thinking about.
When traversing a spread-out corn field, I fell face forward onto the ground. The stubbles of harvested wheat plants pricked me; it felt as if a thousand knives were stabbing me. I was lucky that none of them hit my eyes. I couldn’t walk anymore, so I crawled. Until this day, I do not know how I had the energy to keep going. Maybe I instinctively used the energy of the plants around me, something that would save my life on several occasions later in life.
When I had crossed the field, I reached a small stream. Thankful, I crawled to its edge. With both hands, I scooped up some water and drank until my stomach would not take any more. Then, I let the cooling water run over my face and my arms. It took away some of the pain, but not my tiredness. I slowly managed to sit at the banks of the stream and let my legs hang down into the water. I lay back, feet still immersed, and looked up at the night’s sky.
Once, long ago, I had looked up at the same sky in the same despair I felt now. I sympathised with my younger self, as I relived that moment.
I had been walking all day, while all the time looking for food on the sides of the road. I had passed the last village days earlier, but when trying to steal some fruit at a market stall, I had been chased away by dogs and screaming children. That had been the last time I had met other people. I had avoided every settlement that I saw in the distance. I was alone and the presence of other humans would only make that fact even more unbearable. The road had become my home, the evening wind my grandmother’s embrace. I had lost everything. There was no one I could call family, no place to call home. Nowhere to go, but on and on. What I was looking for, I could not say. A better life, maybe, but how that should come to pass was hidden in the shining stars above.
Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1) Page 4