“No, I suppose not. But the islands seemed safe just a short while ago, and by the time we left, everyone was preparing for war,” she recalled.
“It was your isolation, cousin, that afforded you the safety of which you speak. Like our brethren in the north, until recently you’ve been lucky,” Fallean said. “It’s only that the evil one is now stretching his arms further from Sedahar in search of what he desires.”
“That he is able to at this time is the difference!” Caryssa reminded them. “Pick up the pace. I’m uncomfortable being exposed the way we are.”
Breaking into a steady run in the direction of the hills they saw on the eastern horizon, they left the meager shelter of the sparse woods behind.
“Beyond there lies the town,” Fallean pointed ahead. “When I was a child and the winters grew cold in Seramour, we traveled to Tallon to enjoy the warmth and to bathe in the clear waters beneath it,” he remembered with affection.
“I thought it never got cold in the Heights?” Lana questioned.
“Not like in the northern reaches. The sun remains strong, but the air grows chilly,” he explained. Seramour, how his heart ached for home. He could practically see the sun rising over the vast fields of wheat, bright and burning through the low hanging clouds. He could see the spires of his parents’ home, smell the clean air. Only the waters of Tallon gave him as much comfort. “The flow from those hills over there mingles with the water beneath Tallon. Both sources are suffused with minerals and potencies of their own. It would cascade down after the spring rains, and the townspeople channeled it into large pools. Though I used to think they smelled awful, they rejuvenated the body and the soul. My mother had barrels of it brought to the infirmary in Seramour each season. To her, it was as precious as King’s gold.”
“My mother would feel the same way I’m sure. Healers value things differently than others do,” Lana said while jogging beside Fallean. Her mother was a stalwart woman, born in the harsh southern reaches of Merala da. When her grandfather pledged her mother’s hand to King Windstorm, she had never even seen a city.
“Beneath the town, deep in the earth upon which it’s built, the waters are like no others anywhere. The Lalas drink of the rivers of Tallon.”
“Literally, Fallean? You mean they actually drink from these pools?” Lana asked. She knew little about the Lalas aside from the legends.
“Though I’ve never seen the caverns below, my mother has. Whenever she described them to me, her eyes rose with wonder. She said it was one of the most incredible sights she ever witnessed. Little else impressed her that way,” Fallean recalled. Her respect for Tallon was great and her reverence for the pools was even greater. This was a special place, more special than most people suspected. It must remain safe at all costs, he thought. It wouldn’t be prudent to lead the enemy to Tallon. Am I making a mistake in heading there? Will our presence endanger it?
“For Aunt Elsinestra to say that, it must be marvelous,” Lana remarked. “She was never one to appraise things falsely.”
“I enjoyed coming to this town. Tallon was a friendly and open village. The townspeople welcomed our visits, and I have many fond memories of the time spent here. I hope some of the people I knew well are still there,” he said.
“Why? Was it very long ago?” Lana asked.
“They are human, Lana. I was a child,” he answered in way of explanation, and she understood at once. They aged so differently from the elves. Close friendships between the races were trying for both. Love between the two was even harder.
Lagging behind a few paces, Caryssa panned the horizon. The flock of birds re-formed over the woods, flying in frenetic circles overhead, looping and diving in turn towards the surface.
“They must have found something,” Lana said. “See how their patterns change?”
“Our previous captors, I suspect. Good. It will keep them busy,” Caryssa shrugged, unconcerned.
They ran in silence for thirty minutes, with still three miles remaining before they reached the foot of the hills. Picking up speed, Fallean glanced back to make sure they were both keeping up. Lana and Caryssa maintained the new speed with ease. Lana’s long, muscular legs carried her effortlessly over the dry surface. Soon, the parched earth beneath their feet softened and changed color. Shades of green replaced the washed out browns, and the ground sloped upward.
“I’ve been watching. If anyone’s out here, they haven’t seen us yet. We’re safe for the time being. We’ve been fortunate. I’ll feel better when we reach the cover ahead nonetheless.” She picked up the pace once more.
Scurrying up the pitch without breaking stride, they entered a sparse but welcome wooded area. Fallean halted beneath the largest tree he found, and the others joined him. Passing around a flask, the two women sipped in turn. He did the same himself, and hung it once more on his hip.
“Smart of you to remember to retrieve your water. I thought only of our weapons,” Caryssa said while reaching unconsciously for the hilt of her dagger. Her bow and quiver were strapped tight across her back. “How far is it to Tallon?”
“If we walk, another two hours or so. If we run, maybe an hour,” Fallean replied.
“Need we run now?” Lana asked. “I don’t mind, but it seems we’re sheltered once again from prying eyes.”
“I see no reason,” Caryssa answered. “If someone was going to attack us, they had ample opportunity out there.” She pointed toward where they had just come from. “We can defend ourselves more easily here if we need to. Let’s walk and gain our strength back.”
“I agree,” Fallean said. “There’s only about a half hour’s sunlight left regardless. No matter how fast we run, we can’t make it before it sets. It’s better if we approach under the cover of darkness anyway.”
The sky dimmed in the east, and the streaks of fading sunlight broke through the clouds and danced across the tops of the trees. Brittle and dry, the air was unlike Fallean remembered it from days gone by. In silence they continued on.
Noticing the sound first, Lana raised her head and looked to the right. Her vision was the sharpest of the three. Seeing her react, Fallean removed his bow from his back and knelt upon one knee, panning the horizon with an arrow already drawn. Arming herself, Caryssa crouched between them.
“I spoke too soon,” she whispered. “What do you see, Lana?”
“Seven riders,” she replied. “Armored. Four with swords, three with long spears. They’re hunting.”
“Seven is not many. Any signs of others?” Fallean asked.
“None. No trails, no dust,” Lana replied.
“Now I see them,” Fallean said, and Caryssa signaled her agreement. “They’ve not seen us yet.”
“No, but they will in a moment,” Caryssa replied. “Hunters from Sedahar, I suspect. Look at them. I do like the odds though,” she said, slowing down her heartbeat to prepare for what was coming.
Making a sharp turn, the leader of the group looked in their direction, yanking hard on his horse’s reins. Lifting the visor of his helm, he sniffed the air, then shook his head as if disappointed. He raised his sword above his shoulders and growled like the dark beast who’d sent him. They felt the earth tremble, pounded by the hooves of seven huntsmen.
They backed toward each other and moved as one, easily, effortlessly, as the attackers approached. From a conservative distance, the enemy fanned out around them, assessing its prey. Their big warhorses pranced in place, sweat gleaming from their sides in the last rays of the sun. With his whip ended, notched handled siege bow in hand, Fallean drew it to thirty two inches. Releasing the first arrow while they were still far away, it sailed straight and true. With a dull thump it pierced one of the riders clean through his studded collar just above his breastplate, and protruded out the back of his neck. Blood spurted all over the hunter beside him as he toppled to the earth, dead before he even realized what happened.
“Take the big one out,” Caryssa ordered. Her heart pumped and she was
sharp and focused. “He’s the one giving orders. Watch me. Now. Now!”
The remaining six approached with caution after their companion succumbed without a fight. They hadn’t anticipated elfin arrows, confident their forged plating and the distance between them would allow them to draw near enough to attack, fools that they were. Staying behind the others, the leader motioned to the man on his left. The hunter dug his sharp heeled boot into the belly of his destrier, his weapon in his right hand, the reins in his other. Rearing, the animal lurched toward Lana, the only one of the three without an obvious weapon displayed.
Approaching rapidly, the earth trembled in his thunderous wake. Lana raised her hand above her head and didn’t retreat. Holding a yellow jewel in her fingers that she removed from its case within her cloak, she stood in the warrior’s way. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten. The stone burst into flame. Blinding the horse and the rider with its light, it enveloped them both in a fog of confusion.
“Press together. Quick! I’m moving,” Caryssa said. She somersaulted twice, tumbling forward under the legs of the attacker’s disoriented steed. Rising to her feet in one fluid motion, she swiveled and slashed with her dagger, lopping off the enemy’s limb at the knee. It fell down with the boot toe still stuck in the metal stirrup, dangling grotesquely. The rider yelped in pain, reaching for its severed leg, and before it could turn its spear to attack her, Caryssa leapt up behind it onto the flat back of the animal. She reached across his chest and slit his throat. Shoving the lifeless body off the saddle, she turned to the remaining five and stared at them with her blood drenched dagger raised in the air, dripping scarlet globules onto the horse’s black mane.
The remainder of the enemy charged.
“The pair on the left are mine. Take the two on the right, Fallean. Lana, go for the big one in the middle. Move!” Caryssa ordered, and they sprang into action.
Fallean loosed another arrow, taking down the first of his opponents. The shaft ripped through the leather under his arm. Gurgling frothing blood, he fell. But before Fallean could set the nock of the next shaft to the string, the second attacker was upon him, swinging his heavy blade. He pulled his sword from its sheath and parried the first blow. Sparks flew as the weapons met and Fallean collapsed to his knees from the impact. Turning his horse in a precise circle, the rider came about again, ready to strike, certain Fallean’s slender elfin sword couldn’t withstand a second assault from his own heavier brand. He underestimated the Elfin-forged metal’s strength along with the prowess of its wielder. A fatal miscalculation.
With his gloved hand encircling the hilt, the powerful hunter raised his weapon while Fallean struggled to his feet. Aiming for the center of the elf s unprotected head, he slashed down hard and fast with his sword, ripping through the air.
“Lormarion!” Fallean shouted through clenched teeth while stepping sprightly to the side and disappearing from view, only to reappear a few feet away, his body glowing an eerie blue in the fading sunlight. Spinning around like a dancer on a stage, he watched his enemy’s black metal slice the empty air beside him, as he swung his own sword up and around. The arm of his attacker hit the ground with a thud, its fingers still clutching the blade’s blood-smeared handle. Fallean whirled again and hurled his weapon in the same motion. It penetrated his armor and chest easily, emerging between the shoulder blades, the tip glittering starlike in the darkened sky. The rider slumped face first across his horse’s withers. Reaching up, Fallean pushed him backward, raised his leg for leverage and pulled his sword out of the dead body. Smacking the animal on the rump with its flat side, it bolted off into the distance with its dead master still in the saddle.
Caryssa slid into the saddle after the rider she dispatched hit the ground, and, grabbing the reins in one hand, she pulled hard upon them. The animal reared and she yanked its head while it was still on its hind legs. It twisted in the air and came down facing the two charging assailants, directly in their path. Putting the reins in her teeth, she pulled another dagger from her belt. She rose up in the saddle, balancing on the tops of the stirrups, and raised both of her arms as the enemy bore down upon her. Focusing each of her eyes separately upon them, she hurled her blades.
The hunter on her left gagged as the dagger punctured his windpipe and lodged in his throat, before the second blade hit her other target. He rode right by her, dead in his saddle, his hands clutching the hilt and his eyes wide open. The second blade struck the other one on his left shoulder, not his chest. He shifted sideways, distracted when his partner shrieked, lucky for him. Yanking the blade from his flesh, he tossed it to the ground and rode hard upon her, his sword held in his still good arm. Leaning down, Caryssa pulled a fine string from her boot with a crescent shaped piece of noban attached to it. She threw it sidearm like a boomerang, and it sliced through the air with the speed of a comet, whistling in a piercing tone. Before the rider even reached her, it wrapped itself around his neck a dozen times, the gut slicing clean through the skin just below his metal collar and bringing him to the ground in a bloody ruin.
Lana was the most vulnerable again, with no obvious weapons on her person. The enemy leader approached her, expecting to dispatch her with speed and ease. Raising his visor, he exposed his reddened eyes and leered, then he smiled obscenely at her through a broken row of rotting, brown teeth. His tongue curled and flicked his lips. She stood motionless before him, as if too frightened to move. She focused upon his pockmarked face and waited. Without altering her expression, she reached inside her cape, under her arm, and removed the small, five pointed star from its woven holster. It was cold to the touch and it felt smooth and powerful in her fingers. Her enemy stepped toward her, confident, cocky, his red tongue still licking his swollen lips. From fifteen feet away, she hurled the star sideways and stepped to the right. Making a shrill noise, it accelerated toward him, faster than his empty eyes could see. It lodged in his forehead, penetrating the bone and collapsing his skull, and he sank backward in his saddle. His body flopped and bobbed to one side, as his horse darted into the woods behind her.
Seven assailants, seven dead.
“Interesting feint and jab, Fallean,” Caryssa said, standing up and tucking the tail of her blouse into her suede pants. “I’m impressed.”
“How’d you have time to see me?” he asked. “You were pretty busy yourself.”
“I was, but I have to look out for the two of you no matter what,” she replied. “Good job as well, Lana. You throw the star with a master’s precision.”
“I wish one was still alive so we could find out how many more of them are out there,” Lana said. Walking to the motionless body that lay nearby, she pushed it over with her foot so that it lay face up. Bending over, she put the sole of her boot on its face and retrieved the star with a steady tug. After cleaning it off with the hem of her cape, she replaced it in its holster. The fatal wound was hardly visible aside from the small line of red that framed it, but his eyes were bloody and bulbous. “A painful way to die. Do you think they were looking for us? They seemed surprised when they spotted us.”
“Who else would they be seeking out here?” Fallean replied.
“But the big oaf was let down when he smelled us. I saw his expression change before they attacked,” Caryssa said.
“So did I. When he saw me close up he was disappointed,” Lana concurred. “We weren’t the ones they set out to find, I wager. Let’s search them.”
“I’ll do it,” Fallean said. “Why don’t you two retrieve the rest of our weapons. We should get to Tallon as soon as we can. The sun is almost gone. More of them may be lurking about and they’ll be harder to spot.”
They each went straightaway to work without another word. Retrieving the arrows, blades, and Caryssa’s noban kylie, all were cleaned and put away. One of Fallean’s swallow-tail arrows that had gone straight through his assailant was imbedded too far to withdraw, so Lana broke it off at the head and put the tip only in her pocket. Digging a hole with her heel, she buried
the fletching and the remainder of the shaft under a clump of matted grass.
“Look at this!” Fallean shouted from where the leader had fallen off his horse a few yards ahead.
Walking to his side, Lana and Caryssa stood over the prone body and watched. Fallean crouched next to the corpse, holding something about three inches square in his hand. He laid it flat on a plot of smooth ground, and they crouched beside him. It was magenta in color and about a quarter of an inch thick. Its surface was burnished, and it looked like a stone of some kind, but appeared as if it were alive. Some power animated it.
“What is it?” Caryssa asked. “A weapon? Careful, Fallean.” She moved to protect him but he waved her away.
“I’m not certain what it is either,” he replied. “Lana?”
Lana brushed her fingers lightly over it and recoiled. She grimaced and rubbed her hands together.
“Take care. It’s from Sedahar, from the Dark One,” she said, leaning in but cautious not to touch it again. “Hmpff.” She bobbed her head. “Watch.” She removed the gemstone from her pocket that she’d used in the battle. Flaring brightly at her touch, she brought it close to the square stone. The yellow light reached it and the air crackled at the juncture, sending burnt amber sparks popping in their expectant faces. An image formed within the stone, an image of a face, an Elfin face, at first blurred and unclear. Leaning in to gaze upon it, it crystallized before their eyes.
“Alemar of Eleutheria!” Fallean gasped.
Chapter Fifteen
Davmiran sat cross-legged on the grassy hill, behind the north wall of the tower. His eyes were open wide, but they remained as silent and motionless as he was. His hands lay open, upside down atop his knees. Sitting straight-backed, his blonde hair tied behind his head by a simple rawhide cord, and clothed in a white tunic that hung loosely over his thin frame, he seemed at peace with everything. The storms raging beyond the walls of Parth were forgotten.
The Revenge of the Elves Page 14