by V K Majzlik
The stranger disappeared briefly from view but reappeared mounted on a black stallion. He charged past Tavor, nearly knocking him to the ground. Galloping at full pelt through the courtyard and down the lane, the stranger disappeared into the night, the sound of hooves echoing loudly in the silent air.
Tavor stood breathing heavily. He rested an arm on the barn door, supporting himself, coughing as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Nechan stared in complete silence, still hidden in the shadows, not daring to move in case he was seen. He did not quite know what to make of what he had just seen. In the back of his mind he could hear his brother calling him paranoid, but something told him there was far more to Tavor than they originally realised.
“I hope you enjoyed the show, Nechan!” Tavor shouted across the courtyard, without turning to look at the young clansman. “Don’t be surprised that I knew you were watching! Just be grateful our visitor didn’t!”
Nechan edged out of the shadows, revealing himself sheepishly.
“Three visitors in one day. Very unusual!” Tavor sighed heavily as he walked past Nechan. “Why don’t we have a little chat over a drink. Perhaps you would like to tell me why that soldier was looking for two young runaways, fitting your description?”
Nechan followed Tavor back into the farmhouse, closing the door behind him, shutting out the darkness. Tossing on an extra couple of faggots, Tavor stoked the fire. The flames burst into life again, licking around the new wood, throwing out warmth into the kitchen. From a hidden stash above the fireplace, Tavor removed a leather flask. He then found two small cups into which he trickled a brown, strongly smelling liquid.
“Try some of this! It will put hairs on your chest!” He laughed, amused by his own comment.
Tavor downed his drink in one, and immediately poured himself another. Nechan dipped his finger in his, and swilled it round, smelling it. It felt peculiarly warm on his fingertip. Cautiously, he took a sip and felt it tingle on the end of his tongue, followed by a choking, burning sensation at the back of his throat. He coughed loudly.
“First time drinking stanik? You need to drink it fast. Down in one! But watch you don’t get a taste for it, lad.” He laughed again, as Nechan obeyed, pulling disgusted face afterwards. Smirking, Tavor poured the boy another and sat back in his chair. “So, do you want to know what he said?”
“Actually, I would prefer to know what you said!” Nechan did not look Tavor in the eyes, instead he played with his drink, swirling the dark liquid around the cup, delaying his next taste. He was not normally one for confrontation, but he needed answers.
“You certainly know how to get to the point, don’t you? I’m guessing you’re the bright one of the pair!” Tavor drank another cupful and immediately replenished it again. “Perhaps you should start. Why are soldiers looking for you?”
Nechan felt his cheeks flush scarlet as he licked his lips nervously. He had no choice but to explain the situation. Afterwards, Tavor lent back in his chair, propping his legs up on the table.
“Well, you’re honest, I’ll give you that. But foolish to think you can escape the draft into that army!”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I sent him on his way. Told him you passed through, but several days ago. But, they will keep looking for you, mark my words, especially with all the trouble in the cities.”
“Trouble?”
“The uprisings and riots!”
Nechan sat up in surprise.
“What, did you think I wouldn’t know? Even I have my sources.” Tavor tapped his nose, indicating it was his little secret. “Anyway, they certainly sent the best after you. That man you just saw was a Karvathan Captain. Good soldier, but a vicious one!”
“You know him?” The surprises did not stop coming.
“Used to, before he conformed. The Empire has a nasty habit of turning good people. Make someone fear the worst will happen, that they have nothing left to live for, and anything will look like the better option, including servitude to the Empire and the Rjukhan.” He paused, taking another sip, rolling the cup between his hairy fingers. “He was a BrathuÜnder like me. You wouldn’t know it to look at him now.”
Nechan was intrigued. He sensed he was going to find more about Tavor’s secret past. He definitely appeared more eager and open to talking after a few staniks.
“What happened? Were you friends?”
“Govan and I?” Tavor sighed, his mind flitting through old memories. “We used to travel together, many, many years ago, but had to go our separate ways. Like so many I used to know, he couldn’t stand living in exile any more.” He laughed to himself, and then continued. “Are you sure you boys know what you are getting yourselves into? You do realise you’ve now chosen the life of an outcast.”
Nechan, his eyes downcast, did not reply.
Tavor leant back in his chair, and stared down at the stone floor, gently swilling his drink. “Anyway, Govan let himself get caught, turned traitor to us all. Although I am sure they beat him into submission first. Who knows, maybe the karzon did their mind-washing thing.”
Nechan squirmed in his chair, remembering his encounter with the karzon at the market in Ath’Garnoc. Tavor read his face perfectly.
“I see you’ve had an encounter with a karzon. People are never the same after that. Some go crazy after they have been in their heads. Others it makes stronger.” He leaned in towards Nechan and whispered, “I suppose you must be one of the lucky ones!”
“I guess I must have been,” gulped Nechan, shaking off the shiver that ran down his spine. He was starting to realise how fortunate he had been.
“Anyway, I think you should move on in the morning. Take my advice, it’s best not to linger in one place for too long. That’s how they will catch up with you.”
“You’re right.” Nechan winced as he finished his drink. “Thank you for all your hospitality, Tavor. I am sorry for the trouble we have caused you.” He stood to leave the table.
“Trouble? You haven’t caused me any. I was more than happy to lie to him and send him the wrong way! Besides, it was quite nice seeing an old face, even given the circumstances,” Tavor joked, smirking at Nechan.
“Aren’t you worried he will hand you in?”
Tavor shrugged him shoulders. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure I care if he does! It’s been a long, lonely life!” He shook his head.
“But you wouldn’t become like him, would you?”
Tavor paused and then looked Nechan in the eye. Under his darkened eyelids his eyes narrowed, the large pupils turning his eyes completely black. “Of course not. I’d rather die.”
Something about the look in Tavor’s eyes did not match up with his words, troubling Nechan. The friendly demeanour appeared to disappear, replaced by something far darker and more ominous. In that moment the boy felt threatened, but somehow he resisted the urge to take a step back. “I should go back to bed if we are to make an early start.”
Tavor nodded his head in agreement, and Nechan gladly left, heading back to his warm bed. Although part of him urged him to leave with his brother immediately without waiting until first light, he was tired and knew it would be a losing argument with his brother. He pulled the blankets up around his neck and tried to force himself to sleep.
Despite the churning thoughts in his mind and the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, somehow Nechan had drifted off to sleep. Before he knew it he was being shaken awake. In his sleepy confusion he thought for a moment that Tavor was there to harm him, but as the wafting smell of bacon hit his nose, he quickly realised the truth. Salivating with hunger, he sprang up and dressed. Unusually, Cradon was already up and nowhere to be seen.
“It’s still early, don’t you worry!” Tavor said, placing a plateful of bacon and eggs in front of Nechan. The bottle of stanik had been hidden again above the hearth mantle.
“What was that drink made of?” There was a dull ache in his temples, growing worse with the b
right sunlight and the clatter of pans and dishes.
Tavor laughed heartily, amused by Nechan’s question, guessing he was hung over. “I wouldn’t ask! You might never want to drink it again!”
“I’m already thinking that anyway!”
“Hey, Nechan, you’re finally up!” Cradon came crashing in, flinging the door open, and dropping a bridle and saddle on the floor.
“Must you be so loud?”
“You should be thanking me! I’ve just spent time cleaning our tack, grooming the horses and feeding them. Not an easy job by oneself!” Cradon helped himself to a chunk of bread and dipped it into one of Nechan’s fried eggs, trickling the yellow yolk over the table.
“I have good news!” Cradon mumbled with his mouth full. “We are going to have some company for a while.”
Puzzled, still sleepy, Nechan looked at his brother.
“Tavor is coming with us!”
Nechan’s fork slipped from his hand. “What? Why?” The events from the night before, and the strange visitor came flooding back, along with the worst fears that they conjured.
“Don’t get so worked up! We couldn’t ask for anything better. He says he knows these woods like the back of his hand, and I believe him. He will keep us away from any trouble and send us off in a safe direction!”
“I don’t think you understand. Last night…”
Cradon cut him short. “I know, I know! He’s already told me about the soldier, which is why I think it’s a good idea we have him help us.”
Nechan was surprised at this. He had thought Tavor was full of dark secrets, but if he had been so open with Cradon, maybe he could be trusted after all. Perhaps he was just being overly suspicious. “So, what do you make of it? Do you think they have somehow found out about what we have?”
“There is no way anyone could possibly know about that. How could they? There wasn’t anyone who could have seen anything. If there had been then they wouldn’t have been able to resist having a look for it that night, the same as we did.” Cradon gushed with confidence, quashing Nechan’s fears, at least for the time being.
“I suppose you’re right. I know you just think I am being paranoid. We need to dig up our things though. How do you want to do that without Tavor suspecting anything?”
“Already taken care of! I went early this morning, and just told him I was going to stretch my legs before all the riding. They were right where we left them.”
“And now?” asked Nechan through a mouthful.
“Wrapped up it up in my clothes, but I thought you might want to keep hold of this.” Cradon held out his right hand, releasing the silver chain and amulet that he had concealed in his clenched palm. It dangled in the air, shimmering. Nechan watch it, hypnotised for a second, then quickly snatched it from Cradon’s hand and placed it securely around his neck, out of sight.
“So, does this mean you’ re happy about Tavor travelling with us?”
“For a short while, anyway. We can always part company if it doesn’t work out.”
“That’s great!” Cradon jumped up, and sprang towards the open kitchen door.
“Where are you going now?” Nechan was still amazed at Cradon’s energy.
“I am going to tell Tavor the good news. He didn’t think that you would want him to come along. For some reason he believes you don’t trust him. Can’t think why!”
“Cradon, promise me one thing. If he starts to pay any interest to what we’re carrying, we leave him straight away.”
“Of course! But I don’t think that will happen.” Cradon disappeared into the courtyard to find Tavor, leaving Nechan alone to mull over his thoughts.
An hour later, the three clansmen had congregated in the courtyard. Nechan was pleased to see the sky a pale winter blue with no sign of rain. Danfur and Hindfel were packed and ready, both eager to leave, champing impatiently at their bits.
Tavor had packed various supplies, including food, hunting and camping implements, but only the things he considered essential. He had already made several comments about the amount of luggage that the twins had brought with them. It amused him how little they knew about survival in the wildness. His grey dappled horse stood several hands taller than Danfur and Hindfel, and was clearly a stronger, faster breed. To Nechan it looked more like a war-horse than a farm horse.
“So, you boys want to travel further east?” Tavor had mounted his horse, and was waiting impatiently for the twins. He seemed overly eager to get underway.
“Yes! The quickest and safest way, preferably.” Nechan placed his foot into Danfur’s stirrup and heaved himself up into the saddle. Hindfel was less patient and kept side-stepping or weaving out of the way as Cradon tried to mount him.
“The forest is definitely our safest option,” Tavor advised. “On the open road, spies of the Empire can see you from great distances and track you far more easily. Every person and animal that sees you could be a spy, or even accidentally tell the wrong ears what they have seen. But, enough talk, we have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall.” Tavor steered his horse round and began a nimble trot down the track, heading back into the forest.
“Cradon, are we sure about this? Don’t you think some of the things he says are strange?”
“Of course, but he has been living alone like a hermit for years. Anyone would be a bit strange after that. Even you!” Cradon turned Hindfel and set off up the lane to catch up Tavor with Nechan following closely behind. There was some truth in Cradon’s words. Perhaps he was just being his usual paranoid self.
Behind them, unseen, a dark shadow watched the threesome leave the farm, taking note of their direction. He quickly mounted his black steed and galloped off through the forest, travelling parallel to the lane, to report his findings.
Chapter 15 – Spies All Around
By dusk, the exhausted comrades had finally reached the start of the woodlands. Not only were they relieved to leave behind the rotting stench of the marshes, they were also grateful to finally find some shelter from any prying eyes of the enemy. The Empire had brought many things into its service, not only humans, but animals and birds as well. The companions were constantly aware of the smallest creatures scuttling in the undergrowth or branches high above them.
After travelling nearly another hour, deeper into the woods, they finally stopped, finding the place that seemed the most densely surrounded by vegetation. It was pitch black by the time they set up camp.
“Eilendan, I am going to find firewood and scout out the path ahead. I will not be long.” Jaidan could not hide the fact he felt uneasy, despite the relative safety of being in the woods.
“You should rest, my friend. We all should,” Eilendan suggested. “I know you are restless, but we need everyone to be as strong as they can be. I need your eyes to stay sharp. We both know it’s not over yet.”
In the dim firelight, Jaidan kicked the mossy grass at his feet, thinking about what Eilendan had said. “We will still need more firewood.”
The elf sighed as he watched Jaidan quickly disappear, merging easily into the grey and brown tree trunks, followed closely by Khar.
The moonlit woods were unusually quiet. There was hardly a chirp of a bird, or rustle of a vole in the leaf-litter. Normally, with the presence of a cunning predator like Khar, the woods would be alive with the chatter of animals warning each other, but tonight there was nothing.
Jaidan felt a strange tenseness hanging in the air as he silently crept forwards. Slowly, he strung his bow, keeping his gaze fixed ahead of him. He could not shake the feeling of eyes all around him. The woods might have been deadly quiet, but he knew there were creatures out there watching him. The Brathunder motioned to Khar perched high above him. She spread her wing, and in a single, smooth beat of her feathers disappeared into the canopy above.
As still as stone, slowing his breathing, the clansman waited patiently, hidden by the dense undergrowth. Fleetingly he caught a glimpse of a small, dark shadow dart into the vegetation. It
was difficult to see in the grey light, even for Jaidan’s keen eyes. Hardly moving, he brought the bow up to eye-line and in a fluid, silent motion followed the black shape with his arrow. It slipped out of sight amongst the undergrowth again. Careful not to break cover, he began to creep forward, heading to where the animal had disappeared.
It must have been watching him approach. The animal sprang out from the shrubbery and the hunt was on.
Jaidan could clearly make out the distinctive shape of a black fox, its brush tail and lean body easily identifiable. With effortless agility, it bounded between the trees and the undergrowth, knowing its life depended on it. Jaidan pursued it closely, his bow still raised, waiting for the perfect shot. They ran deeper and deeper into the still woods, Jaidan only just making out the movement of the fox amongst all the shadows.
He stooped and crouched for a brief moment, watching as the fox jumped over and in between some fallen trees and branches. Holding his breath, he pulled back the bowstring in anticipation. The fox ran up onto another fallen trunk, unknowingly placing itself in perfect line of sight for Jaidan. Without pausing, he took his shot. There was a high yelp, and the fox fell out of view.
Jaidan found the animal, still gasping for breath, collapsed on its side with an arrow sticking out of its flank. It stared at Jaidan, the whiteness of its eyes glinting in the darkness. With one swift flick of his bone-handled knife Jaidan ended its suffering. Khar glided down from the canopy and settled on a mossy tree stump. She preened her feathers and watched her handler curiously.
“You missed it! Where were you?” He spoke quietly, gently stroking the soft plumage down her chest. Khar cocked her head to one side, studying him with her bright, yellow-rimmed eye. He cleaned his knife, wiping the scarlet blood onto the moist moss underfoot. Khar hopped onto the warm carcass and began clawing at the matted fur. She pecked at the revealed flesh, but quickly turned her head in disgust, rejecting the easy meal. Clearly the taste of traitorous meat was not to her liking.