Ravenshade

by C S Marks

  This young animal was much the same. Unlike her beloved Finan and gentle, worthy Siva, the grey had little dignity about him. He would not stop nuzzling and nibbling and snatching at her with his teeth, rubbing at her with his large, boney head, following her everywhere and grabbing at her things. He had stolen a comb from her pack and was now walking around the enclosure as though he had taken a great prize. Well, fine, thought Gaelen. Let your mane remain tangled, then!

  She called to him and he turned toward her, still carrying the comb in his mouth. She smiled in spite of herself, but quickly regained her serious attitude and called him to her again. Might as well get this over with…

  The grey still carried his prized comb, flipping his head up and down while chewing on the handle, as Gaelen grasped his unkempt mane and swung onto his back. She gave a small grunt of effort—this horse was much taller than she was accustomed to.

  Typically, as with most of her kin, she experienced an immediate bonding between rider and horse. Yet this one felt large and strange beneath her, and she did not feel a part of him. He did not respond in the way she expected; he was still fixed on playing with the comb and paid her little heed. He began to wander around the paddock, though she asked him to stand. And now, here were Nelwyn and Khandor at the rail to witness the humiliation.

  Gaelen muttered under her breath. “You huge, ridiculous puppy, attend me at once, or we shall have harsh words!” How dare he take me so lightly? How dare he be so beautiful, yet so…wrong? How dare he try to replace Finan!

  Her frustration welled over and she did a most unusual thing, digging her heels into the grey, startling him. He reacted by leaping forward, unseating Gaelen, who did not have her seat and was not expecting the speed and power of his response. She did not even land on her feet, but hit the ground spraddle-legged, raising a sizeable cloud of dust. Both Nelwyn and Khandor gasped in surprise, and then winced. That landing hurt—no question about it.

  “I have rarely seen Gaelen unseated in all the years I’ve known her,” Nelwyn muttered. “This is far worse than I thought.”

  “Give her time. She’ll come around,” whispered Khandor. “That rascal has a way of getting to you. It’s almost as if he annoys you into surrendering.” He called out to Gaelen. “Are you all right?”

  Gaelen was already on her feet, and her face and ears flushed. She had treated her friends to a sight they had thought never to see. The grey stood facing her, waving his tail gently, regarding her with large, soft eyes. He lowered his head and chortled at her, his message clear. I’m sorry…I did not mean to unseat you, but something startled me. Will you not ride again?

  He walked up to her and offered his head to be scratched.

  Gaelen obliged him, rubbing his ears with her long, clever fingers. “I know better than to startle you. I don’t know what came over me…this is not your fault. And now, though I would just as soon never mount you again, I must do so, for my friends are watching and I know they expect it of me. I promise not to startle you again.” She sighed and patted his smooth, shiny neck, then walked around beside him and swung aboard. He stepped off immediately, striding forward with grace and power, as she stroked his neck and spoke encouraging words.

  “Open the paddock gate,” she called to Khandor. “I cannot try him properly in such a small space.”

  “Are you certain of this?” asked Nelwyn, who worried that her cousin might end up on the ground again.

  “No, I’m not certain, but I need to try this animal, and I cannot do it in a small space. Besides, as a friend once said, one must die of something!”

  She quirked a half-smile at Nelwyn and urged the grey forward. He responded well, engaging his hindquarters and moving off at about half speed. Gaelen headed for the harbor; there was a long stretch of flat going where the ground was not too sandy, yet it was soft. It would be an excellent place to try him.

  Neither Nelwyn nor Khandor would see Gaelen for many hours. She returned as evening approached, flushed and in good spirits. The grey had been playing in the surf for over an hour. Gaelen had given him a good run and then thought to soak his legs, but he insisted on trying to leap into the approaching foam, chasing it as it retreated. This game had worn him out, and he had actually unseated Gaelen once more as he leaped sideways in the churning water…she was still wet. She handed the lead-line over to Khandor. “You have a swift horse, and he will be a worthy mount…if he ever settles down.”

  Khandor bowed before Gaelen and closed the paddock gate. “My thanks, but your task is not ended. Please train him and make him fit, so that he can prove his worth. It’s my belief that he will make the perfect mount for Lord Salastor, but not without a rider that has the skill to educate him. Please, will you be his teacher?”

  Gaelen thought for a moment. “I will see what I can arrange,” she said. Before she left she turned to the grey, who was standing quietly by. “Thank you for lifting my spirits, young one. You have given me some happiness this day, against all expectation. Perhaps tomorrow I will return and we shall continue our lessons. Remember, not so foolish the next time!” She patted him once more, shaking her head as he tried to grab her sleeve.

  Nelwyn and Rogond both noticed the change in Gaelen when she returned to their chambers and took supper with them. She was lighthearted, with more energy than they had seen in a long while. Nelwyn smiled to herself. There was one thing that would put Gaelen right quicker than any other, and that was a good ride on a fine horse.

  Radeef stayed in the Sandstone only as long as required. He sold his dromadan, acquiring enough silver to provide for himself until he could gain news of the Company’s path. In response to his inquiries he was advised to seek out Hari, the horse-provider, for some of the strangers had been in his employ. Radeef and Hari knew one another by reputation, for they shared the same trade, though they were on very different sides of it.

  As soon as Radeef entered his yards, Hari disliked him. The horses stood disquieted with tails raised; a few snorted and struck at the ground, alerting the others. This man was not welcome.

  Undaunted, Radeef introduced himself, bowing before Hari, who called to his horse-breaker, for he didn’t want to be alone with Radeef for some reason.

  Though the horse-breaker was a stout, strong man, Radeef was not the least bit intimidated. “I understand you might have news of some friends of mine,” he said. “They passed this way some months ago, and I have been following after them, for I would bring news of the man they are seeking.”

  “What strangers? What were their names?” asked Hari.

  “I do not know their names,” Radeef admitted, for neither he nor Kotos knew them. “But they were seeking a man named Hallagond. They will want the information I have to give. Will you not aid me?”

  “I know of you, Radeef,” said Hari in a cold voice. “I cannot imagine that you would go to any great lengths to help anyone other than yourself. I do not trust your intentions regarding my friends, and since you do not even know their names, I doubt they are friends of yours. There are those here who would pay to harm them. I’m sorry, but I can tell you nothing.”

  “Ah, well, at least I made an effort,” said Radeef. “Perhaps you will be convinced when I show you this amulet, which once belonged to the man they seek. Look upon it…is it not of great worth?” Radeef took the amulet from around his neck and extended it toward Hari, who marveled at its beauty.

  “Go on, take it,” said Radeef. “I trust you will give it back. A thing of such beauty comes not often to one’s eye. Take it and look with care.”

  Hari could not stop himself…he wanted to look closely at the amulet. He wanted to hold it and feel the cool smoothness of it. He wanted to see the beautiful, intricate engraving. He wanted to possess it.

  The moment Hari touched the golden thing, Kotos could see into his mind. He flowed from Radeef into Hari, who had not expected such things and was taken aback, clutching at the amulet and gasping.

  “What devilry is this!” said H
ari’s horse-breaker, thinking that his employer had been bewitched. Hari stared blankly ahead, then swallowed hard, blinking as tears started in his dark eyes. Kotos left him, flowing back into the amulet, commanding Radeef to place it once more about his neck.

  “What devilry?” Radeef replied, composing himself as he once again shared consciousness with Lord Kotos. “Your master was obviously overcome by the beauty of the amulet, nothing more. It can affect some folk that way. You see? He has recovered his wits already. Since you will not provide me with the information I seek, I will take my leave of you. But if the Company returns to this place, and they still have not found Hallagond, tell them of the amulet, won’t you?” Radeef smiled and bowed, and then he left them.

  Hari would remember nothing of the amulet other than its beauty, and when he returned home that evening he said nothing of the encounter with Radeef to his wife. He insisted on washing not only his feet, hands, and face, as was customary, but his entire body. Despite this effort, he still went to his bed feeling as though he would never truly be clean again.

  Kotos had learned what he needed to know in his brief encounter with Hari. Honest men did not guard their thoughts, though this one had been wary. Although he had not known of the Company’s path when they departed in haste from the Sandstone, Hari had since learned from those traveling to and from the Chupa oasis that the Company had gone there, and so Radeef would leave at once. He stole a dromadan, earning himself a death sentence should he ever encounter its rightful owner, and headed out into the starlit night.

  It took longer than expected to reach the Chupa oasis, and by the time he did, Radeef was in a bad way. Both he and his animal were exhausted and nearly mad with thirst, for they had pressed hard day and night, and had taken little rest. Radeef had underestimated the amount of water he would need, and to make matters worse, one of the water-skins had leaked. He had hoped never to feel such thirst…it was as if his guts had shriveled inside skin that now hung on him like a wrinkled parchment. His throat was nearly glued shut, and his eyes felt as though they would be rasped away inside their sockets.

  His dromadan had fared no better, for it had been laboring hard. Now its steps were halting and its breath whistled in the dusty air. It had acquired a deep, dry cough that told the tale…without water the beast would die within a day.

  Kotos still urged Radeef forward, for to rest now would probably mean the death of his host. He was disgusted with the weakness of this man, supposedly so wise to desert ways. How could the fool have attempted this crossing without sufficient water? Now water must be obtained, to the exclusion of all else. I must get him within sight of the oasis, so that if he drops in his tracks he will be seen by a new host. He must not die alone, to lie with the amulet until discovered by chance.

  The dromadan lifted its head, thick white froth coating its half-open mouth, eyes glazed with thirst. It gave a sort of half-hearted bellow, scenting the air, and all at once its expression grew brighter. There was water nearby, and the clean, white dwellings of the Chupa oasis could now be seen. Radeef smiled, then a cracked, hysterical laugh came forth. In truth, it was Kotos who laughed, not Radeef, for the possession of a new host was now assured. Both Radeef and the dromadan would make for the oasis, and there they would remain.

  Kotos knew he would need a stronger host for the next step in the journey. That was well, for he had grown weary of Radeef’s small mind. Though it was easily controlled, it was tedious. He preferred a host that would occasionally challenge his abilities, and he had learned that such a host, one that kept at least the vestige of an independent mind, took far better care of itself. Lord Wrothgar had warned him that the ultimate challenge would soon be faced.

  Gorgon Elfhunter had never allowed his thoughts to be controlled, had never knowingly permitted the invasion of his senses nor interference with his own desires. Kotos hoped that his next host would present more stimulation, for he would need all his skills to achieve a rapport with Gorgon. It would not do to have his wits dulled inhabiting a simple-minded scoundrel like Radeef.

  The next host chosen would be a man both fit and capable, with a ready but innocent mind. Such men were not wary of Kotos until it was too late, but once inhabited they presented challenges, for they would try to reassert their own wills. For brief and rare moments they would succeed. In those moments they would make intelligent decisions regarding their own welfare, and Kotos would thus allow them to regain their wits from time to time. He intended to stay in the Chupa until he found the right host.

  Radeef made his way into the settlement, staggering into the nearest sanctuary, a tavern with the proprietor’s name, “Haifa,” engraved on a wooden plank over the front door. There he collapsed in a dry, dusty heap. The patrons regarded him with mild disinterest until one of them actually recognized him. He was given water and revived, but when it was discovered that he had no coin, he was laughed out of the tavern. “Come back when you can pay, Radeef!” said Haifa. “Water you may have, but no wine this day.”

  No matter, wine was the last thing Radeef needed. What he needed was a cool, quiet place to rest, some food and water, and a hospitable host. Radeef had been to the Chupa before, and he knew of the inn known as the Golden Fig Tree.

  The proprietor, a man named El-morah, was known to offer aid to wayfarers in need. He fed and clothed Radeef, allowing him to wash the desert from his body, and in exchange he was given Radeef’s half-dead dromadan and the promise that he would work to pay his debt. El-morah would have little use for the dromadan, but laborers were always appreciated.

  El-morah’s wife, Mohani, was not pleased with this arrangement. She did not trust Radeef from the moment she beheld him, and she knew him by reputation. El-morah, however, had not seen the same man his wife had seen, for he had looked into the bewitching eyes of Lord Kotos the Persuader, and all of Mohani’s admonitions would be in vain.

  Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Estle sat atop the Great Wall, looking out to the east over the moonlit land. The stark, white bones of the dragon glinted in the pale light, casting dark stripes and curves of shadow that made an eerie, dark counterpart upon the stony ground. One could still smell the decay, though it was no longer so stifling that the men on the east watch required cloths covering their faces to blunt the stench—a little aromatic oil on one’s mustache would suffice.

  Estle passed a skein of liquid to Nelwyn, who sat beside her.

  “Take this, both of you, and try it! It’s a wine made from honey. I expect you’ll both find it delectable.”

  “Wine made from honey? What an appalling notion!” said Gaelen, whose courtesy had abandoned her for the moment. “You mean to say that someone actually took honey, which is the most perfect and precious foodstuff to be had, and…and fermented it? That would destroy all of its uplifting qualities, at least it does so to other sweet things that are fermented. But perhaps I am wrong. I will try some to be sure.” She and Nelwyn each took a hefty swallow of the honey-wine, and turned their faces aside so that Estle could not see the grimaces they made.

  Estle chuckled at them. “That good, is it?”

  Nelwyn had a difficult time regaining control of her facial expression. When she finally did, she turned to Estle. “That does not taste like honey. What it does taste like, I will not say, although I’m not ungrateful to you for sharing it. It was a thoughtful gesture.”

  Gaelen said nothing, but made a small sound that might have been a suppressed snort of laughter.

  “Well, I like it, and therefore I’ll drink it,” said Estle as Nelwyn handed the wine back to her. “You must both go thirsty, alas.”

  “Don’t be concerned,” said Gaelen. “We are not dismayed. Nelwyn and I have brought our own provisions and they are quite satisfactory, if I do say it.” She drew forth a small clay vessel filled with wild forest honey, the kind that is nearly black, and a skein of clear wine. She carefully added the honey to the wine, and mixed it well. The result was a deep amber fluid that would bring cheer to any Wood-elf.<
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  “Do you remember when you asked me whether I could feel the effects of wine, and I replied that it depended on the wine? Well, both Nelwyn and I will feel this!” She passed some to Nelwyn and they both drank heartily. They shared with Estle, who agreed that the mixture was appealing, though it was very sweet.

  Something in the combination of honey and spirits will affect a Wood-elf much more than honey alone. Estle had never seen Elven folk quite so tipsy. In fact, Nelwyn, who was usually beyond graceful, attempted to dance atop the battlement and nearly fell from it. She was grabbed by Estle, who hung on to her right arm as she dangled precipitously, laughing so hard that she could do nothing to aid herself.

  Estle panicked, calling to Gaelen for assistance, but the little menace was so bent over with mirth that she was not even remotely helpful. Fortunately, Nelwyn recovered her wits enough to struggle to safety, laughing all the while. Estle shook her head. “All right, Gaelen, I take your point. It does, indeed, depend on the wine!”

  The two Elves stopped laughing and stared at Estle in silence as though she had just said something frightfully important. Then they both fairly roared with laughter again, falling together in a heap. The stars distracted them, and they lay on their backs, their wide eyes filled with a thousand tiny jewels of light, chuckling and snickering every so often until they finally calmed.

  “You two are not nearly as formidable as you would have us all believe, you know,” said Estle. “I could have taken you both with no effort at all…so much for the invincible Wood-elves!”

  “But, Estle, you are our friend,” said Nelwyn. “We do not need to be invincible before you...is that not so?”