by Aderyn Wood
Part III
The Borderlands
26
The young man moored Joy to the jetty and helped Dale out of the boat. He looked just as he did in her vision – tall, slim – elf-like.
“Dale, it is a great honour to finally meet you.” He bowed so low that Dale could see the golden braids at the back of his head.
“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you too, ah ...”
“Jaral.” He put a hand on his chest.
When he smiled he looked even more elfish. His eye teeth were extended, like fangs, much like Esme’s. His eyes were bright violet, like two amethysts set amongst dark lashes. Then she saw his ears. They came to a delicate fine point. My god, he is an elf!
“Is there somewhat wrong?”
Dale shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that … Are you an elf?”
He looked at her quizzically. “An elf? I’ve not heard the term. I am from Dryadalis. Have you not met one of our kind before?”
Dale shook her head.
“But surely they would have told you?”
Again Dale shook her head.
“Oh.” Jaral looked disappointed, then shrugged. “Come, you must be exhausted; I know I was when I first ventured here. What kind of tests did you have to endure?”
“Tests?”
“You can tell me all about it over a meal and wine. This way.” Jaral gestured with his hand and walked up the jetty.
Dale stopped.
“But, my boat.”
“Oh, yes, one minute.” He whistled and two fat yellow gnomes appeared. “Please take care of Dale’s boat. Fold the sails carefully and ensure that everything is stowed away, and don’t pinch anything.” The two gnomes saluted then skipped off to follow their instructions.
Cat clawed one of them as he walked past.
“Cat, don’t.”
Jaral laughed. “Is he your hysbryd? What is his name?”
Dale looked at him, a crease to her brow. “Hysbryd? His name is Cat.”
Jaral threw back his head and laughed. “What humour you have. You know, when I last left Dryadalis my mare had just foaled. Perhaps I should call the new born ‘Horse’. Makes sense.” He laughed again and Dale couldn’t help but stare at his fangs.
They left the jetty and the fog shifted. A little camp was nestled amongst a copse of trees; a proper camp with a green canvas tent, a fireplace and – she squinted – there were horses at the back. She could just make out their rumps amongst the trees.
“Where are we exactly? Are those horses? And what did you mean by hysbird before?”
Jaral bent to stoke the fire, then looked up at her. “You have many questions. Which is interesting in itself. But sit, be comfortable and eat some bread and cheese. Would you like a cup of wine or some warm tea?”
Dale sat on a chair made of leather and wood, and considered Jaral’s question. She suddenly felt ravenous. “Tea, please, and, yes, some bread and cheese would be – lovely.” Jaral was so polite, so formal. He seemed chivalrous, like the princes in the movies she liked to watch, although she detected a sense of humour too.
Jaral placed a pot of water on the fire and cut a thick piece of bread and cheese which he gave to Dale. “I baked the bread this morning. I’m not as skilled with the flour as Daktro, but it’s fresh and still warm. The cheese was made by Alf, the goat, and Dwynd, the cheese maker. You will meet them all shortly.”
Jaral cut a slice for himself and sat down. He looked at Dale steadily. “I must admit, I’m surprised by your questions. I had presumed you would already know so much, the way they speak of you.”
Dale munched on the bread. It was quite simply the best food she’d ever had. The bread was fresh, the cheese tasty. She tore into more and savoured it before becoming aware of Jaral speaking.
“Who do you mean? Who are ‘they’?”
“The queen. And the councillors, mostly. They don’t say it explicitly, but they infer your great power. Everyone has been anticipating your visit, wanting to lay eyes on you, and here I am the first to do so.” When he smiled his violet eyes sparkled.
Dale looked away.
“He told me of your beauty, of your eyes. Are you aware that I have never seen an Earthen with green eyes? But he did tell me they are the most rare colour in your people.”
Dale squinted. “Who told you?”
Jaral swallowed his food and looked at her. “Rhys.”
Dale’s mouth fell open. “Rhys? You know him?”
Jaral nodded. “But of course. He’s a fine sorcerer. We don’t always get along, but I can respect his abilities.”
Dale shook her head. “So where is he?”
“He is on a quest, a very important one I believe. But we expect his return any day. Now, tell me of your tests. What did you have to endure? The Borderlands always gives us some challenge; we can’t simply enter, like one would a market place.”
Dale let thoughts of Rhys slide from her mind as she focused on Jaral’s questions. “Well, I don’t know that I had a test really. I was pursued by a man. An evil man.”
Jaral nodded. “We heard as much from Ness.”
“You know Ness?”
“Yes, another accomplished sorcerer. Go on.”
Dale took a breath. “I believe he caused a storm that sent me to a deserted island. I had to fend for myself. I’m not sure if it was a test or not, but sometimes it was hard, especially when he returned and I had to hide. I slipped and hurt my ankle.”
Jaral frowned. “That island may have been on the fringe betwixt your world and this one. Well, I guess the Borderlands have taken that as your test. It certainly sounds like a challenge. Mine was a little more obvious.”
“What was it?”
“I had to fight a drinker.”
“What’s a drinker?”
Jaral looked at her. “They are an abomination. Very powerful and dangerous; they use blood to feed their power. When I first came to the Borderlands I came by way of the mountains. And there, one cold moonless night, a drinker appeared. His glowing eyes revealed him. He almost had me, but I won in the end. Not through sorcery; I had no skills then. It was through sheer physical fighting. After that I awoke to shifting fogs and made it to the Borderlands.”
Jaral was certainly tall and, while slender, Dale could see the tone of the muscle in his forearms revealing strength. Dale shivered. “Sounds terrifying.”
“My skills in combat are renowned.” He smiled again.
Dale’s eyelids grew heavy, and when she looked around she saw the day had grown darker.
“You must rest. I know you have many questions, Dale, but there will be time for talk tomorrow. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
“How long?”
“Two days by horse. Come, let me show you to your bed.” Dale followed Jaral into the tent and when she saw the pillow and blankets she went to them eagerly.
“Why am I so tired?“ She muttered.
“Because you are still shifting. And it’s exhausting.”
What’s shifting? Dale wanted to ask but her tongue wouldn’t form the words. Instead her eyes closed and her body fell forward. Strong arms caught her and laid her down.
“Good night, Dale. It’s been a great pleasure to meet you.”
27
Dale was woken by Esme pinching her nose. She laughed and sat up, then remembered where she was. In Jaral’s tent. In the Borderlands.
“Esme, where have you been?”
The little sprite clapped her hands and skipped outside.
Dale stood, and flicked her hair back over her shoulder. Wait a minute, she thought. Her hair was long, and red. How did that happen?
She opened the tent flap to a day just as foggy as the one before. A cup of tea sat waiting on the table, and a slice of bread with honey. No sign of Jaral. Dale sat by the fire and drank. It was some kind of herb tea that tasted delightful and the warmth flowed through to her fingertips. Esme stood off to one side dancing
like she always did. Dale watched Cat watch the sprite, but when he started to stalk her she called him off. “Cat, no.”
The feline began grooming himself as though he’d done nothing wrong.
“Honestly, why can’t you two be friends?”
Dale walked down to the jetty and Cat followed. The fog moved thick by the water but Joy was safely moored and the gnomes had done an excellent job of folding the sails and stowing everything away – even better than she would have done. She wondered if the gnomes belonged to Jaral the way Esme seemed to belong to her.
The water was dark like ink. Dale saw her reflection and shoulder-length red hair that had somehow grown back overnight. Her reflection frowned.
Cat jumped into the boat. The sound made her look up.
“We’re not going anywhere, Cat. At least I don’t think so. I don’t really know where we’re going.”
Cat looked at her, his tail straight up, “Meow?”
“C’mon, let’s go back to camp.”
When she arrived back at the fire Jaral had returned and everything was packed. The tent was gone, along with the table and chairs. The horses stood, twitching their ears, saddlebags full. Jaral held a bundle of clothing.
“We are almost ready to leave. I have some new clothes for you and you may like to bathe?”
Dale took the clothes. “My hair – it’s long again. How did that happen?”
Jaral smiled. “I should have known you would start the day with another question. In the Borderlands you take on the form of your true self, once your transition here is complete. And I see your true self has lovely red hair. I understand red hair is also rare in your land. You are a rare one, Dale.”
His violet eyes looked down on her, smiling. Dale felt the warmth of her blush threaten and turned to go. “Where can I bathe?”
“Follow your sprite. I will wait for you here.”
Esme led her to a waterfall in the woodland. The fog had cleared slightly and Dale noticed more of the environment around her. There were all manner of trees and plants, birds and butterflies and Dale resisted the urge to go exploring. Esme gestured toward the waterfall.
“Yes, I’m going to bathe.” Dale turned her head. “What’s the hurry anyway?”
Esme stomped her feet.
“Alright. Alright.” Dale undressed, folding her clothes into a pile on the bank. Her hand reached for her pendant and she remembered it was missing.
“Hey, where’s my crystal, Miss?”
Esme slapped her forehead and vanished.
“Infuriating minx!”
She washed under the fall, its water fresh and warm, as though from a thermal spring. She dried and dressed in the clothes that were not unlike Jaral’s – trousers made from a rough fibre, like the clothing sold at the crafter’s market in the city. The shirt was a fine material like silk. Then there was a vest, maybe wool.
The shoes looked like something out of a medieval text book, fine leather with laces and a curled toe. There was a comb too, made from wood with delicate engravings. Dale took it and combed her hair. She was glad it had grown back. She was beginning to feel more like her true self, just as Jaral said.
She packed up her bundle of clothes and headed back to the camp. Jaral had doused the fire.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He smiled. “You look …” He left it hanging there. “My gnomes, Tut and Spiros, will pack your old clothes in your boat for you. We best be off.”
Tut And Spiros took her clothes as directed and waddled off into the fog toward the jetty. Jaral brought the horses toward her.
Dale bit her lip. “I’ve never ridden a horse.”
Jaral raised an eyebrow. “You are full of surprises.”
He walked over and put his hand on the stirrup. “You put your left foot here.”
Dale complied. Then he grabbed her bottom with one hand and threw her leg over the horse with the other.
“That’s how you get on.” He stood there looking at her with a wide grin on his face.
“And how do I ride?” she asked, clearing her throat.
“You’ll work it out. I assure you, Stella is a gentle horse.”
Dale nodded. “I think you can remove your hand now.”
“Of course.” Jaral bowed and she felt his hand slide away before he took three long steps and jumped onto his own horse. He whistled and the horses took off.
Dale grabbed on for dear life. “Wait, what about Cat?”
Jaral whistled again and the horses slowed. “Your hysbryd will follow; he will know where you are at all times.”
“What do you mean by that word?”
“Hysbryd? I mean your animal, the creature that has bonded with you and that you may share skins with.”
Dale frowned. “I don’t think Cat is my Hysbryd. I think he was Gareth’s.”
Jaral turned his head sharply. “Gareth, of course.” He shook his head. “Such a shame. Don’t fear; he will know to follow you all the same.”
“You knew Gareth?”
Jaral looked straight ahead, as though he didn’t want to meet her eyes. “I knew of him; everyone knew of him.”
“What did you know?”
Jaral sighed. “That he was a great sorcerer, one of the best, and that he was tempted by love and then something else.”
“What?” Dale asked.
Jaral looked at her. “I think you best ask these questions of Queen Anwyn. She will provide you with more accurate answers than I. I’ve only ever heard it second or third hand.”
Dale chewed her lip. What had tempted Gareth?
“Tell me more about these his-birds.”
Jaral laughed. “A hysbryd is a fellow creature, an animal of some kind. All sorcerers have a hysbryd. We bond with them; we can even become them, enter their bodies and borrow them for a time.”
Dale screwed up her nose. “Do you have a hysbryd?”
“Of course. I am riding him, my stallion Belor.” He bent to pat his stallion’s neck; it whinnied in response.
Dale wondered if maybe Cat had become her hysbryd. They’d certainly become good friends.
“How do you know when an animal has become your hysbryd?” she asked.
Jaral smiled. “There is an undeniable connection, and you can communicate via your minds. You can feel them, too. Wherever they are, you know how to get to them.”
Dale closed her eyes and tried to feel where Cat was but she got nothing.
“I don’t think I have a hysbryd,” Dale said.
Jaral looked at her. “You will. Perhaps you will find your creature here in the Borderlands. That would be a great gift.”
In the late afternoon Jaral declared it was time to stop. Dale was exhausted. Her thighs, back and neck ached and burned. Riding a horse was not as easy as it looked in the movies. Jaral unrolled a mattress for her and placed a soft pillow on it and ordered her to rest while he set up their camp. She thought about protesting but her hunger for rest proved too strong.
She woke to the sound of a good fire crackling and the aroma of cooking. She sat up and saw Cat curled up by the flames, fast asleep. The tent was pitched and the horses appeared to be sleeping where they stood behind the shelter.
Jaral came out of the tent and placed a rug by the fire.
“Come, sit here by the warmth, Dale. Are you rested now?” His smiling eyes watched her.
“Yes, I feel better, thank you.” She stood and walked over to the fire, her hands reaching out for the warmth.
Jaral ladled two helpings of the broth that hung over the flames into a bowl and handed it to her. Dale sniffed it. It smelled of tantalising herbs and fresh vegetables.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s one of my inventions. Try it; you’ll like it. I give you my word.” He gave her a wink.
Dale scooped a mouthful and quickly scooped another. It was a sensation – warm and tasty. It seemed to heal every aching muscle.
Jaral laughed. “Told you.” His fangs
glinted in the firelight. She looked away quickly, not wanting to be rude.
“So, where are we going exactly?”
Jaral stood and stirred the fire with a long stick which he then used to draw a rough map on the ground beside Dale’s rug.
“You arrived here, at the Eastern Gate.” He drew a cross indicating the spot then a line to the west and another cross. “We travelled well today, although if m’lady was more accustomed to horse travel we would have covered more ground, naturally.” His sparkling eyes smiled again.
Is he flirting with me? Her blush did its usual trick and she was glad for the night’s darkness.
“So we are currently here, at a clearing in Wrenwood.” He drew another line from the second cross. “Tomorrow will be another long day of travel, possibly longer than today.” Dale groaned inwardly, her thighs and back would be worse tomorrow.
Jaral drew an arch. “We will follow the shores of Whistlers Lake for a while. Not long after that the mountains will come into view and we will begin a climb up. And then we shall arrive.” He drew a final cross on the map. “Arcadia, the jewel of the mountains. We should arrive at dusk, a truly wondrous time to see our beautiful city.” Jaral wasn’t smiling now, his steady gaze and set jaw conveyed the respect he seemed to hold for this place.
“I look forward to seeing it,” Dale said.
Jaral looked down suddenly as if remembering she was there. “Yes, you will fall in love, Dale.” His smile returned. “Still, it will mean I will have to share your company. I’m beginning to think it will be quite the sacrifice.” His grin widened into a full smile, once again revealing sharp fangs. Dale’s blush worked its way further up her neck and she turned from his stare. I think he is flirting with me.
She scooped another spoon of the broth and cleared her throat. “And who is this queen you spoke of earlier?”
Jaral put the stick down and ladled some broth for himself. “Queen Anwyn, she is our ruler. She is very old and very wise. It was the queen who ordered me to greet you at the Eastern Gate.”
Dale swallowed her food and considered this. “So this queen is a sorcerer too?”