Illyan Daughter

by Bryn Colvin

  It was clear to Liss that the woodland was not large enough to hide them for very long. There was no sign of the riders who pursued them and she chose to strike out across this exposed land in the hopes of reaching the first cover, a mile or so away, before her father’s men found their way through the dense trees. It was illogical to break cover and so she reasoned that, as long as they were not visible when he emerged from this woodland, he would be more likely to carry on his hunt through the narrow ribbon of trees than guess her true direction.

  Though her body still ached and she had already spent the greater part of her energy, Liss ran, her feet pounding into the soggy ground. She scanned the landscape continually, looking for anything that might aid them. The plain was not as flat as she had first believed. There were streams running through it and shallow ditches that might just hide a person. These occasional features made the going harder. Annis ran close behind her, the older woman’s short legs slowing her progress. One of the pale hounds emitted a low growl of warning, and looking back Liss saw the first of the riders clear the trees. They had been too slow, the gamble had failed and Math would run them down.

  Liss stopped then, too exhausted to go further and forced to admit it was hopeless to try.

  “Please go, I can delay them,” she appealed to Annis, “there is still time.”

  Annis shook her head, her breathing laboured.

  “If you love me, go, I do not want to see your blood shed and I doubt I can protect you in face of six armed riders. My father will not spare you for my sake.”

  Again Annis shook her head. Liss watched the horses struggle with the boggy ground and knew that there was no more time.

  The six formed a circle around their quarry. Liss looked up at her father, trying to read his expression and finding it coldly empty of feeling. She wondered if he would ever be able to understand or forgive what she had done. Instinctively Liss moved closer to Annis, trying to protect her from the arrows that might come. With a low whistle and a brief command in a tongue the young fighter did not recognise, the crow-woman sent her hounds racing off through the long grass.

  Noon raised her bow, but Math said, “Let them go, even if they are more than they seem.”

  Math slipped easily from his mount: his stance predatory, his face dark with anger.

  “Liss,” he ordered, “On my horse, now.”

  She stood still, able to see that his attention was almost entirely upon Annis. A painful, gut-wrenching feeling caught hold of Liss and she stumbled, clutching her stomach and grimacing. She was caught between the two of them, conscious of a mutual desire poisoned by the blackest hatred. All that she could do was wonder what they truly were to each other and to herself. She doubted that either had been entirely honest with her. Math snarled.

  “Give her up, Annis, she isn’t yours.”

  “The girl chose freely,” the crow-woman said—her voice chillingly calm.

  “What lies have you told her?”

  Liss could see that her father’s anger had almost mastered him. His gaze flickered briefly and she glanced in time to see that Fith had dismounted and was approaching from behind. Annis put her arm around Liss’s waist, protectively and, after a moment’s hesitation, the girl returned the gesture, standing defiantly against her father. Fith stopped a few paces behind the duo and remained motionless, clearly awaiting some signal from his leader.

  “What did she tell you, Liss?” Math asked, his voice bitter.

  Liss said nothing for a while as she found she did not know how to speak to him. There was no way of tidily meshing together what the two of them had imparted and she no longer had any sense of what was real. The encounter was bringing out the very worst in her father and, with his capacity for violence and brutality made so very apparent to her, Liss could understand how there might be truth in Annis’ words.

  “She’s said something to steal you away. What was it? Are you supposed to be a child stolen from her people? What?”

  Liss found her voice.

  “She told me she is my mother.”

  Annis grew tense beside her—barely breathing. Math rolled his head back and laughed bitterly.

  “If it wasn’t so stupid it would be an insult. Your mother was a distant cousin of mine. She died a few years after you were born, carrying our second child. Walk away from her, Liss. I won’t punish you for this—I know her lies can be convincing. I fell foul of her once myself.”

  He had been the only parent and family Liss had known for most of her short life. He had watched over her growing, nurtured her and seen that she was provided for. Liss had never considered it to be a close relationship, but she had trusted him. She wondered then how a stranger, with no proof of anything, had made her think she had found her mother. She supposed it was because she wanted it to be true. Her dark hair stood as testimony to the improbability of her being pure blooded, but she knew that proved nothing.

  “I’ll tell you who this woman is,” Math said, his tone chilled. “She’s a ghoul. She’s got no people of her own, now and I think she’s been following us ever since the day she betrayed her own people for gold. I think she wanted more than that, but she never got it, did you?”

  Annis was still, her stance firm and defiant even as she held on to Liss. Math advanced upon the trapped women. There was nowhere left to run and they could only wait. He grabbed his daughter with one strong hand, tearing her away from Annis and throwing her roughly to the ground. She was staggering to her feet when she saw the blade in his hand. Annis made no apparent move to resist this danger but, penned in as they were, there was little she could have done. In one last, desperate attempt to prevent blood shed, Liss threw herself in front of the crow-woman and felt the sharp pain of metal cutting through her clothing and into her flesh. Caught by the force of Liss’s dive, Annis was knocked from her feet and the two fell together.

  For a while everything was still. Math’s dagger was lodged in Liss’s shoulder and the five riders he had brought with him were silent and motionless. Liss rolled into a less exposed position, fighting back the pain and forcing herself into action. She expected Math to draw a second weapon and use this chance to kill his sworn enemy, if not his traitorous daughter as well. When she raised her head and stood unsteadily she found he was staring at her, his hands held away from him as though they had betrayed him.

  “Liss,” he said, “are you? I didn’t…”

  She could hear the fear in his voice. The sound of it made her sick to the core. Annis rose to her feet, still dignified despite the dirt and the fall. Liss stared into her father’s face, holding his knife in place and trying to staunch the bleeding with her one working hand. Even as she tried to make sense of what was happening, she wondered if that arm could ever be used again and if she could ever hope to hold a bow with it. She knew the wound was quite deep and that she was losing blood rapidly. There was not much time.

  “Who am I?” she asked.

  “Liss, please…” but whatever he meant to say died in his throat and he turned from her, to remount his steed.

  “I need you to tell me. Whose daughter am I?”

  “You are mine,” Math offered softly.

  “And mine,” Annis echoed.

  “Is this true?” Liss asked, staring at Math.

  “Would you believe me if I denied it again? You are not this woman’s daughter, you do not belong to her.”

  Liss tried to digest these words and to decide which she most wanted to believe. The truth was clearly unavailable, lying somewhere between their words perhaps. Both of them had secrets to keep, both had lied, no doubt and told their own truths. Which truth did she want? The father she knew and loved and the life that belonged with him or the exotic, magical mother whose world seemed strange and alluring?

  In the time that she took hesitating Math spurred his horse and, without a sound or signal, his men filed off behind him. Liss stood in the trampled grass and watched until the small party was swallowed up by the woods. Then
she sank to her knees. She had been going to choose him, but he had not given her time.

  Annis pulled the blade from her shoulder and dressed the wound with enough skill to halt the bleeding and ease the pain. Liss supposed she would heal in time. Experience suggested that her body did not take long to recover from such damage. So long as nothing vital had been damaged, she would be well enough in time.

  “Am I your child?” Liss asked, her voice dull with pain and loss.

  “You need to ask?”

  “Yes.”

  “In some ways you are a lot like him,” Annis said, sorrowfully.

  “How could I be otherwise?”

  Liss wondered what she would have done if the crow-woman confessed to a lie.

  “Sleep now,” she said, “talk about it in the morning. You cannot move as you are, poor child, I will make a camp around you and call the hounds back.”

  Chapter Eleven

  In the dream there was a tower made of stone, taller than anything in the town and far more beautiful. Upon its roof stood twelve figures carved of stone. Six were rendered in perfect detail, four were barely identifiable as people and two were somewhat more complete. Liss wandered between the figures and, as she passed each one, they called out, ‘who are you?’ Some asked with mockery, others with kindness, but none would speak beyond uttering those few words. Even in the dream Liss knew they were familiar, that she had seen them before, but she could not remember when or where. The words came from no-where and everywhere, filling the air like a flock of tiny birds, their sounds battering against her mind as she dreamed them.

  “Mythmaker.”

  “Kith maker.”

  “Come to us.”

  “Forest child.”

  “Your blood is your future.”

  “Your past is your destiny.”

  “Blood speaks.”

  “Come home, forest child.”

  “Come home, Illyan daughter.”

  “Kith maker.”

  “Come and wander the dark roads.”

  “Mythmaker.”

  “Future maker.”

  ~*~

  The sodden meadowland was still in the first light of dawn. Birds sang in the nearby woodland, their voices faint. Breezes stirred the marshy grass. As awareness of the pain in her shoulder returned, Liss screwed her eyes up tightly and tried to resist waking for just a little longer, but to no avail. With a feeling of melancholic resignation she opened her eyes and found herself alone. Woman and dogs had vanished in the hours of darkness, leaving her the oiled skins she was wrapped in and a skin of water. For a long time Liss remained still, contemplating her situation. By noon she was still alone and could no longer deny that Annis had abandoned her. She wondered if it was a consequence of her doubts or if it had truly been no more than a plot to wound her father beyond all healing. Liss had not meant to betray him but, injured and weary as she was, it had been impossible to think clearly enough. All she could do was try and find her way back to the town and ask his forgiveness.

  The passing of time lost all real meaning for Liss. She measured experience in single footfalls, with the longer stretches becoming a blur of pain and fatigued hunger. Annis had shown her a few edible plants in their time together and these kept her alive. She was too exhausted to hunt and her aching shoulder meant that she had little scope for this anyway. The landscape of rolling hills was confusing and she became lost readily. After a while she tried following a stream, hoping it would eventually find its way to the river she knew. She supposed she could only be a few days travel from home, at most, but did not even know if she was walking in the right direction.

  It was the first time in her life that Liss had ever been alone for more than a few hours. She found the isolation oppressive and the nights fearful. When she forced herself to walk, she moved in a haze of pain, letting her thoughts drift through memories of happier times. Grief and loss gnawed at her, as she remembered her one afternoon of lovemaking and the glorious beauty of lying in Dothrin’s arms, pressing her body down on his.

  Chapter Twelve

  Leaf watched the commander that he had followed for more than half his lifetime. The man had been walking the walls for hours, just has he had done on the previous day and for too many days before that. His eyes looked haunted—ringed black as they were from sleeplessness and touched with red. He had barely eaten and where before he had been strong and powerful, now he looked both gaunt and broken. He seemed far too much like a man contemplating throwing himself into death’s welcoming arms.

  Gron and Flash approached together, both men bowed down with new troubles.

  “The same?” Gron asked.

  Leaf nodded despondently.

  “He’s not said anything?” asked Flash.

  “Not a word, not even to Sena,” Leaf replied.

  “What do you think Gron? You were there.”

  “Nothing beyond what I’ve already told you. He struck Liss and she refused to return with him. He hasn’t uttered a word since then. I tried to talk with him on the way back, but he turned his back on me every time.”

  “It was Annis then, you think?” Flash asked.

  “It must have been. From the description.”

  “None of us three can rule in his place, I doubt we could manage it if we all worked together, even. We don’t have his power of command, we never did,” Flash mused.

  “There is no one else, Flash, it’s you, me and Gron, or nothing. None of the others have the will or experience.”

  “Some of the youngsters are talking of leaving. There are rumours,” Gron replied.

  “We can hardly stop them. No doubt we’d have done the same at their age,” Flash smiled.

  “There won’t be enough of us left to hold this place and if we lose the young blood, in a few years time things will be truly dire,” Leaf observed grimly.

  “I think the adventure is over,” Flash said, “I’ve lived a lot longer than I expected to and had far more fun. We were always too few to build a proper life here.”

  “Are you proposing we just let it fall apart around us?” Leaf asked.

  “We should try and rouse Math,” Gron suggested.

  The mention of their commander’s name caused all three men to look back at the place where he had been standing on the walls. There was no sign of him. Gron dashed to the place where Math had been, looking down at the river below. There was no sign of him there either. The walls were empty, save for a duo patrolling on the far side.

  “He must have gone below while we were talking,” Flash said, trying to sound optimistic, but finding that a numb fear had taken hold of him.

  Although they searched every last corner of the town, none of them ever laid eyes upon him again.

  Part Four: Illyan Daughter

  Chapter One

  The warmer weather brought flowers to the wild countryside and made the nights almost bearable. Liss had no real understanding of how she had managed to live for so long. Some use had eventually returned to her left arm, but it had lost much of its strength. She could use her sling well enough to take occasional small birds and mammals, but lack of food had wasted her muscles and left her a gaunt shadow of her former self. She existed from day to day, no longer able to think much beyond the issue of her immediate survival.

  The rocky summit of a hill gave her a considerable view out over the landscape. She could see miles of smaller hills and beyond them, a wide plain through which a glittering river traced its journey to the sea. With her eyes, she followed the curves and contours of this distant landmark, until, almost at the limits of her vision, she made out a form that did not seem to be a natural part of the landscape. She strained her eyes, half shutting them against the strong light to try and see more clearly. Although she hardly dared believe it, Liss thought she must be seeing a town. It might even be her own town. For the first time in weeks, hope began to grow within her heart.

  Liss remained on the hilltop for a long time, studying the landscape and commit
ting to memory every landmark and contour that might help her find her way through the maze of hills towards her home and family. She guessed that if she could make her way to the river that might only take a few days from where she then stood and, once she had found it, the town would not take her so very long to reach. With the river to guide her, it would be easy enough. Looking back the way she had come, she guessed that she had set out in entirely the wrong direction and also suspected that Annis had been leading her away from the river, not towards it or the distant town.

  With fresh vigour in her steps, she clambered down the incline. She had long since stopped believing that she would find a way home, having thought that some wild creature would take her or that simple hunger would finish her off. Health and strength were returning, as the weather grew warmer and at last she had some genuine focus for her existence beyond the immediate task of staying alive. She would make her way home over the next week or so, make peace with her father and reclaim her old life. After so many days in the wilderness she thought she could even greet Rina with open arms and heartfelt joy.

  ~*~

  Liss waded the ford. The mighty current that had carried her off at the start of the season was gone and now the river ran low and gently, bearing away what little rain had seeped through the distant hills. There was no sign of anyone out on the bank and this surprised her, given that the weather was clement and the day still young. She could hear no sounds from the far side of the walls as she approached and there was no evidence of a guard at the gate. She entered, unchallenged, by the same rout she had when first she came to this place as its attacker. On this balmy day there was no one to prevent her entry and the streets were empty and silent. The joy she had felt on first approaching dissolved into profound foreboding.