Illyan Daughter

by Bryn Colvin

  For a while Liss wandered from street to street, frightened by the absence of life and puzzling what to do. She supposed that perhaps they had moved on, but on investigating a few houses, found that the trappings of daily life were much in evidence. If they had gone, they had taken precious little with them and that seemed improbable. There were no signs of violence or attack, no bones or bodies and nothing broken.

  The central keep was as empty as every other place. A vacant crib stood in the room that had been Sena’s, but of the infant it was meant for she could see no trace. Her father’s sword and bow remained where he normally left them close by his bed and she took both, knowing he would not have departed without his weapons. The silence was oppressive and she wanted to scream just to shatter it. There was something monstrous about this mysterious desolation. She could think of nothing that might explain how a whole community had vanished away like so much mist in the sunlight.

  In desperation, she retreated to the one place that had been a refuge for her while she had dwelled within these walls. Like the other households, Flash’s establishment was devoid of life. Bowls and plates still stood upon the table in the cooking room and half-laundered washing mouldered in a bucket. Running lightly up the staircase, she pushed open the door to Dothrin’s room.

  Unlike everywhere else she had seen, this place had been emptied. There was no evidence of her lover; all of his travelling gear was gone and the bare boards seemed to stare back at her. He had left and taken his possessions with him. Her mind raced. Was this before or after the others vanished? Was it a reaction or a cause? Was he alone? Had he escaped from what happened here or had it followed him? There were no answers to be found in the bare wooden surfaces of the abandoned room. Taking off at a run, she sought her own abandoned inhabitation. This too proved largely untouched, but Blade and Arl’s rooms were stripped bare and her own room had been ransacked. She stopped for a while to make up a better pack, replacing her tattered skins with sturdy blankets, a bedroll and an oiled cloth that would make a shelter. She longed, as she had done frequently of late, for a horse.

  Liss wracked her brains, trying to think who else had been close to Dothrin and where they had made their homes. She wanted to check and see if others had left with him, but her memory proved hazy and, wandering around, she could not be sure which houses had never been inhabited and which had been abandoned intentionally. She searched until it was almost nightfall, then made her way out along the riverbank, looking for somewhere to sleep. The thought of remaining in the abandoned town filled her with inexplicable dread.

  Where would Dothrin go? She wondered. Would the mystery of his mother’s people draw and trap him just as it had her? There were many young people who owed half of their blood line to the dark-haired locals, would they have struck out to find the other half of their lineage? Annis had said that those who fled to the forests had survived. There was no knowing if that was more or less true than anything else, but her thoughts returned to those words. The idea of the forests drew her, with their dark secrets and hidden ways. If some disaster had befallen the others here, where else would they flee but towards the place where they might find others of their blood? There was nothing to do but walk.

  Chapter Two

  As evening set in, the camp buzzed with life. Meat roasted over fires and the succulent smells of its baking causing many a mouth to water in anticipation. Dothrin surveyed his small company with pride. They had left the community of their birth hurriedly, bringing what they could, but leaving far more behind. To look at them now, he supposed no one would guess how disorganised their commencement had been. They were flourishing. At first he had mourned the impossibility of taking horses, but once they reached the vast forests, he was glad they had none. The ground was so uneven, so full of rifts and chasms that any creature unfamiliar with it risked broken limbs at every turn.

  His small encampment in the forest was so very different from the great swathe of tents over which Math had ruled. Here they were few enough that they all knew each other. Here those who had once been dismissed as half-breed slaves had found their own place. He thought that almost every slave-born child from the old camp old enough to think for themselves had chosen to come with him. Only once they were free of the town did they begin to realise that they all knew something of the lands through which they travelled; secret lore whispered by mothers who had sworn never to forget. One would know a plant that could be eaten; another would remember the properties of a certain tree or how to spot the spoor of a certain animal. A few days in the forests had taught them that, for every piece of knowledge they had been gifted with, there were a thousand things they did not yet know. This realm of trees, giant boulders and small streams was a world apart from the plains and full of hidden dangers.

  The seasons had turned twice since that fateful day when they had made their escape. There had been an inexplicable mood in the town, one of threat and growing danger, of mayhem poised to explode into total destruction. He could not have said how he knew, but the necessity of escaping before the trap snapped shut and grasped them all had been apparent to him and never once had he regretted it. The disappearance of Math had been the start of it and that had never boded well, but there had been something in the air and every instinct screamed that the time had come to depart. He could not stay within stone walls when Liss was lost, presumed dead. At first he had planned to search for her, but there was no knowing even where he might begin.

  “Who has the watches for tonight?” Pell asked, approaching from one of the fires.

  “I’ll stand the first with Luth, Arl and Wyn have the second, Lew and Mai third and if you would see in the dawn with Rill, that would be well.”

  “Gladly. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure someone brings you food.”

  The early watch was the easiest, when the fires still burned brightly and the comforting sound of living was close by. Later in the night, when the fires were low and hunting beasts prowled amongst the trees, the forest could seem a far more sinister and alarming place. They had lost several of their company to predatory things, one carried off by a winged creature and another of whom they found only charred remains. That troubled Dothrin, for he had no idea what could strip a young lad to the bone so quickly. However unsettling the forest could be at times, at least it gave them a freedom of sorts and they lived well enough.

  As the evening set in he walked the perimeter of their camp, watching all the while for signs of danger. The sight of small companies huddled together companionably warmed his heart. There had been babies born to them, already and their gathering had the feeling of a true community, even if it did lack elders. After a life of taking orders it was still peculiar realising that there was no one to order him and that ultimate responsibility for this little band of renegades was utterly in his hands.

  The dull crack of a branch made him halt, straining his ears and peering into the gloom for some sign of the noisemaker. He supposed it was most likely a turley; they seemed to favour the dusk and they were not the quietest of nocturnal wanderers. Still, Dothrin did not like to take chances. He pressed himself against the nearest tree. After a while he heard the softest rustle of leaf-litter, as though something or someone was trying to move quietly. It clearly was not a turley then, he decided. Had one of those smelled his presence, it would most likely have ignored him. While they would eat almost anything, they seemed disinterested in live prey.

  There was very little light beneath the trees but, after a few more barely audible sounds of movement, Dothrin saw a tall, human form emerge out of the gloom. Not wanting to take any chances, he launched himself, crashing down into the stalker’s back and knocking the interloper to the ground. His captive put up some resistance, but was clearly unused to fighting and soon gave up and lay still. Dothrin held his prisoner down and listened to see if there were any others. The forest offered him no unusual sounds and, after a while, he relaxed, thinking there was no threat beyond this lone wanderer. He knew they w
ere not alone in the forests—that other small communities wandered its hidden ways, some openly hostile to his party, others uninterested. He removed the sword strapped across the intruder’s back, but left the roll of bedding and blankets that had almost hidden it from him.

  Dothrin dragged his prisoner towards the nearest fire so that he could see what he had caught.

  “Joy, Star, sunrise side, now.”

  His voice rang out through the camp and, in moments, two young women emerged from near the closest fireside.

  “Walk the perimeter for me,” he asked, “and watch out: I’ve caught someone, there may be others.”

  In moments others were at his side, faces grim and weapons ready.

  “Search the area,” he suggested, “I can deal with this one.”

  As soon as they were on their way, he thrust his captive into the light and kept the blade that he had taken in his hands in case he needed it. He could see at once that the individual he had taken was female. She was dressed largely in skins and leathers, her long hair a mass of braids and knots that fell to her waist. She staggered away from him, regained her balance and stood defiantly, her hand reaching for a smaller weapon on her belt. He cursed himself for not having checked her more thoroughly. Her hand froze before her fingers grasped the handle she had sought and he saw her eyes widen with surprise. She went to speak, but emitted only a horse croak. After clearing her throat self consciously, she tried again.

  “Dothrin?”

  He wondered whom in this place could know his name and if his fame had spread beyond the company he commanded.

  “Yes. I am he.”

  She covered her mouth and nose with both hands, her eyes shimmering in the firelight and then, without warning, she began to weep. Dothrin watched, bemused, as his prisoner dropped to her knees, great shuddering sobs wracking her body. He wondered if this was some sort of a trap or a ploy to win his sympathy. Trust was something he could not afford when dealing with strangers.

  “Do you need any help?” Arl asked, emerging from beyond the firelight.

  “I don’t know,” Dothrin asked, “is all quiet?”

  “No sign of anyone else; we checked as best we could.”

  “She seems distressed,” Dothrin observed, “any thoughts?”

  Arl scratched his head.

  “Maybe she’s mad. I would think wandering about this place on your own would do that very quickly indeed.”

  The woman’s shoulders had ceased shaking and with a tremulous voice she asked, “Arl, is that you?”

  Her words startled the young man and he took a step away from her, glancing questioningly at Dothrin.

  “Yes,” he said.

  She raised her head, then and the firelight illuminated her profile.

  “Liss?”

  She looked like a wan ghost, so thin and pale, but unmistakable. Dothrin stared in disbelief, remembering that he had spoken her name only a few days previously and wondering if he had thus summoned the wraith of his dead lover to haunt them.

  “Yes.”

  She stood hesitantly, “I thought I must be dreaming. Who else is here?”

  Dothrin looked around at the lights of his camp and replied, “Quite a few of us.”

  “What happened, how did you come here?”

  “I thought you, dead, or gone forever.”

  Their words overlapped.

  “Come and sit at my fire, eat with us and we can share our stories.”

  He took her hand and led her through the camp, Arl following in their wake like one in a trance.

  “How did you escape?” she asked.

  “We left a few days after Math returned from his fruitless search for you. There were some wild rumours flying about, but Sena thought you were most probably dead. Some of us had been planning to leave for a while. Whatever happened between you and your father, he couldn’t control things anymore, he went off and the community was in chaos, so we left while we could.”

  “You don’t know what happened then?”

  “No.”

  Liss unfolded for them what she had seen in the abandoned town and others drifted to the fire to hear her tale. Most had left parents or siblings behind and the news of their disappearance affected every ear.

  “I always thought we could go back if we wanted to, that it would all still be there,” Arl said.

  Dothrin and a few others nodded at this.

  “We are truly alone then,” he said.

  “There is no going back,” Liss whispered, “they are all gone and there is no knowing what became of them.”

  “How did you live?” Dothrin asked.

  “I do not know. There is so much to tell from all my wanderings and of the woman who destroyed my father, but I do not know that I can do that tonight. Will you let me join with you?”

  “Of course, Liss, you belong with us.”

  She smiled at him, wondering what had become of the passion they had once shared. He seemed troubled by her presence. For years only the thought of finding him again had sustained her. She had sought him through the woodland ways, learning smatterings of languages from other nomads and searching for news that might lead her to him. More nights than she could number she had drifted into sleep imagining herself in his arms or replaying in her memory the one occasion when they had made love. It had been her hope that he would welcome her with open arms, not violence and mistrust.

  “The forest has changed me,” she said. “I may not be who I once was.”

  “The forest changes us all,” he said.

  They ate together in amicable silence and, as the evening passed, old friends made their way to the fire and Liss found that many of the younger people she had cared for most were amongst Dothrin’s company. Of her father’s men there were none, nor were there any of the older women. She wondered, as she had so often, what had become of Sena and Vik, of Flash, Leaf, Gron, Noon and countless others. Most of all she wished she had some conclusion to her father’s bitter tale. She still did not know if she should mourn for his death or live in hope of being reunited with him.

  The fire burned low and the camp grew quiet as people withdrew to their small tents. Liss and Dothrin eyed each other thoughtfully by the fading light of glowing embers.

  “I’ve been alone since I lost you,” he said.

  “You didn’t take another lover?”

  “No. I thought you dead, but even so…”

  She smiled at this.

  “Where would you sleep tonight?” he asked.

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “If you want it to be.”

  “I would like to share your bed.”

  He reached across and took her hand, squeezing her fingers between his.

  The tent was small, a combination of oiled cloth and fallen branches, with an ample bed of leaves and blankets to give them comfort. It was low and there was little room to move in it.

  “It’s hardly the splendour of your father’s day, is it?”

  “Easier to carry, I should think and big enough for two; I could not ask for more.”

  Liss wriggled out of her clothing, unpinning skins and peeling off what remained of her old garments. Dothrin reached for whatever skin she bared, his kisses becoming ever hungrier as proximity to Liss rekindled the memory of a love he thought he had lost. Through the insistent pressure of his lips, she could feel the reawakening of his passion. Liss’s own heart had ached from loss and loneliness so that she had started to believe she would never feel anything purely joyful again. Every press of his lips and brush of his fingertips eased away the memories of those dark days and reminded her of better times.

  They sank into his bed, hands exploring familiar contours of skin. Dothrin was much as she had remembered him; tall, firm and lithe, with shoulders that begged to be bitten and a bottom she felt she had to squeeze tightly.

  “You have a bad scar on your shoulder,” he said.

  “A bitter thing.”

  “Tell me. I want no secret
s between us.”

  “Given by my father’s hand, taken in defence of a woman who claimed to be my mother, but who betrayed me. In this wound I lost both my parents forever.”

  The kiss to her damaged shoulder was tender, but Liss barely felt it. Her skin there was dead to all but the most intense of pressure. In the darkness she felt the warmth of his breath on her body and the strength of his hands as he gripped her.

  “Only the very young have parents here. You are in a community of those who can claim neither kin nor lineage. We belong only to ourselves and to each other.”

  Touched by his words, she held him tightly and rolled the two of them over so that she could straddle him. Liss applied her teeth and lips to his nipples, sucking and nipping at him. The memory of his rod pulsing deep within her body had sustained her for a long time. She feared that the recollections had gained fantastical proportions in the long period of her wanderings and that lying with him now would make a poor comparison. After so long living only on dreams of affection she hardly dared to trust the reality of it.

  Dothrin gave her little time to ponder these concerns. His broad hands reached between her splayed legs, guiding his erection along the line of her nether lips and up into her waiting cunt. She sank down upon him, taking his full length into her. For a while she lay still, overwhelmed with fullness and completion even at the outset of their congress. The profundity of her emptiness had never been so clear to her as when he filled her then.

  Pressing her cheek against his, Liss rested her weight upon her elbows and let one hand tousle Dothrin’s short hair. Her bum was in his hands and he thrust upwards from beneath her, allowing her to luxuriate in his embrace. The rhythm of his passion consumed her and she let it wash over her. It was enough simply to be the object of his desire, to be governed by his wants and appetites. It seemed easier to enjoy the ecstasy he found in their coupling, than to release her long-fettered emotions and risk what she might find there. His pleasure, she thought, would be enough for both of them.