by V K Majzlik
Jaidan was a strong swimmer and was easily able to tow Nechan’s limp body, but he too was starting to run out of air. He kept going, almost to the point of passing out himself, until he felt hands grasping him, pulling him up out of the water. To his relief he broke the surface, and gasped the air. It was stale, but he inhaled it in gratefully, replenishing his lungs. Disorientated, he thrashed about, trying to climb out of the water, groping for Nechan in the darkness.
“Calm down. Stop struggling.” It was the deep, throaty voice of Gaular. “We will pull you out!” Jaidan let his body go limp and allowed himself to be pulled from the water.
“The boy…….Is he alright?” he gasped as they pulled him out of the cold water onto a ledge. To his joy he heard coughing and knew that Nechan was still alive.
“Where are we?” He struggled to look around him, but was met with pitch-blackness. It must have been a monstrous cavern, hollowed out by centuries of running water; the sound of gurgling water reverberated all around them.
“I’m not sure. We’re all here, though!” It was Eilendan, lost somewhere in the dark.
“No, we’re not!” coughed Nechan. “Where’s Tavor?”
“He’s……. He’s not coming!” Jaidan paused. “He stayed to give us more time!”
A deathly silence fell on the group. They all knew Tavor had given up his life for them.
“The ledge seems to continue, at least for a while. Perhaps we can walk out?” suggested Eilendan, breaking the frozen silence. “If we hug the wall, we can try and find a way!”
Formless arms helped Jaidan and Nechan up. They were both still trying to catch their breath, their lungs still burning, with cold, wet clothes, clinging to their bodies. Reaching out they found the wall and together the group began inching their way along the rocky ledge.
“Do you think they are following us still?” asked Nechan, clutching Jaidan’s arm.
“I doubt it. They are more likely to try to meet us on the other side.”
“Where do you think we are, Gaular?” quivered Nymril, feeling the blackness closing in on her.
“These walls are not manmade. I can also smell sandstone, so we must be right under the foundations!”
Gaular’s words gave Nymril no comfort. She was not used to being encased in such oppressive darkness.
They continued to fumble in the endless gloom with only the cold stony wall to guide them forwards.
“It sounds like the water is moving faster now!” said Jaidan.
They listened and it was true.
“Stop!” he shouted.
The group came to an abrupt halt, bumping into each other.
“The ledge has come to an end. We can’t go any further this way!”
“What are we going to do?” There was a hint of growing panic in Nymril’s voice. Elves did not deal well with being underground.
“We will have to get back into the water!” came Jaidan’s sombre voice.
“The water! I don’t think I can!” Nechan was starting to panic as well. The thought of replaying his near drowning experience filled him with terror.
“We have no other choice. We have to keep going forward. Just stay close to me!” Jaidan took Nechan’s hand, reassuring him, and together they climbed back into the cold water. They could feel the current starting to pull them away from the ledge, forcing Nechan to let go.
The current grew stronger, and above them they could hear the echo become more muffled, a sure sign that the ceiling was becoming lower. They clung together as a tight group for as long as they could, but as the water became more turbulent they were helplessly ripped apart.
Rocks and boulders battered their limbs as they were dragged past. Frequently they were sucked under the surface and had to fight their way back up for air. The comrades were defencelessly tossed around like rag dolls. Suddenly, the current pulled them under, barely giving them time to take a breath. They were travelling very quickly now, and even in the darkness their minds felt the world whirring past in a blur.
It was only a few seconds before they were thrown back to the surface again and into the blinding whiteness of daylight.
The comrades looked around blinking and to their relief realised they had made it. They smiled and laughed with relief as they swam back into a huddle, clinging together once more.
Their celebrations did not last very long. The roaring sound of water grew louder still. Gaular was the first to notice the line of water abruptly ending. He shouted for the group to swim backwards, but it was too late. Even with his immense strength, the dwarf was unable to fight the current as the group was dragged over the edge of a tall waterfall. They fell nearly forty feet through the air before they plunged deep into the pool below, the pounding water forcing them even deeper.
Battling against the weight of water the comrades surfaced one by one, some distance away from the waterfall. With battered, bruised bodies, gasping for air they swam towards the shore. Jaidan helped Nymril, who lay back in his arms as he towed her. The adrenaline had worn off and she was now paying the toll.
Exhausted and relieved they reached the shore, and one by one pulled themselves up onto the muddy bank. Gaular helped Jaidan haul Nymril out and then they all lay back and breathed deeply, pleased no longer to be in the darkness or the cold.
“We can’t stop. We have to keep moving!” Jaidan panted. “Tavor said there was a horse-breeding farm near here!”
“Let’s hope he was right!” replied Gaular, showering his friends with water as he shook his body.
“I think he earned our trust.” Jaidan sighed as he thought of the last few moments with Tavor. He still felt guilty for leaving him to fight alone. “He was right about everything else!”
The comrades forced themselves to stand, fighting the urge to curl up and fall asleep. They had landed in a large lake, the water still murky green, encircled by muddy shores and patches of tall, browning reeds. The surrounding lands were flat and open, covered in short, dark green, lush grass, with not a tree or bush in sight. In the distance they could make out the faint shape of a barns and farmhouses, and they quickly realised they must be the breeding farmsteads Tavor had spoken of.
Chapter 35 – Farmstead
There was no sight of anyone around the farmstead. It was completely quiet except for the mares and foals grazing and galloping in the paddocks as the comrades slipped past. Once they were within sight of the farm buildings they halted under the cover of some thick shrubs.
“We need to do this quickly.” Jaidan was crouched down low, watching the farm buildings closely. “They will probably keep the newly trained horses in the stables over there.” He pointed at a one-storey wooden building.
“Agreed! How do you want to do this? They could be waiting for us,” whispered Eilendan as he too studied the area looking for anything out of place.
Jaidan paused for a moment, thinking about what was best to do. “It’s unwise for us all to go. We cannot afford to be slowed down.” He looked at Nymril slumped on the floor, still conscious and listening to every word, but unable to muster the strength to sit up.
“You and I will go. Gaular will stay here and look after Nymril and Nechan,” replied Eilendan decisively.
Nechan looked up. “No, it should be Jaidan and me, you’re injured. This is something I can do, I’m good with horses!” He smiled nervously, surprised at himself for volunteering.
“The boy is right. We would make the faster team, Eilendan.” Jaidan prepared to leave, continuing to check for any signs of soldiers lying in wait.
“Are you certain, Nechan? This could be dangerous.”
Nechan nodded at Eilendan, attempting to appear confident in his decision. “I want to do this. I need to help in some way.”
Eilendan understood, quietly impressed by the boy’s sudden bout of courage. “Take this. Don’t shake your head!” The elf removed a short dagger from his belt, handing it to Nechan. “Let’s hope you do not need to use it!” he smiled, as Nechan ner
vously took the silver dagger.
“We need to go, now!” Jaidan whispered, motioning for Nechan to come forward and join him.
They crawled forward on their stomachs, trying to keep as low as possible in the short grass and tufts of weeds. There was little cover to help them reach their target. They would be forced to make a run for it.
Jaidan sprinted first, crossing the yard nimbly, finally coming to rest amongst several bales of hay. Once certain the coast was clear, he beckoned Nechan to join him. The young Hundlinger mustered the courage and left the safety of cover. As he dashed towards Jaidan he nearly tripped, but somehow regained his footing before he fell. Sweating profusely, he launched himself into cover behind the hay next to the older man.
“You are doing fine. Take a deep breath.” Jaidan was already scouting out the next section of cover.
“Can you see any soldiers?” whispered Nechan.
Jaidan shook his head, peering above the bales. “No, but I can smell them. It’s their leathery armour, and sweat. Unmistakable.”
“What? Where do you think they are?” Nechan turned visibly pale at the thought.
“They might not be from the fortress. It’s possible they are guards stationed here.”
“Well, let’s hope we don’t find out!” Nechan said, trying to sound light-hearted.
Jaidan’s steely face broke into a grim smile. He had been concerned about bringing Nechan, and if truth were told, would have preferred to do this alone, but the boy was not proving a hindrance. “Are you ready? We are going straight in there!” Jaidan pointed towards the open stable door. “We grab horses, and tack if possible, then we get out.”
Nechan nodded and prepared himself to run again.
Jaidan crossed the yard first, disappearing in a flash into the stable. A few seconds later he poked his head around the open door and signalled Nechan to follow. Double-checking the coast was clear, he joined him quickly. His heart was in his throat and pounding fast as adrenaline surged through his veins.
The stable had a musty smell of sweat, leather and manure. It was dimly lit, with streaks of sun highlighting the dust in the air. Each stall held a well-groomed, black horse, calmly munching on hay, shuffling their hooves in the sawdust that doused the floor. They were both relieved to see tack hanging by each stall.
There was still no sign of anyone. There were no guards and no stable hands. Jaidan entered the first stall, motioning for Nechan to enter the one opposite. Nechan opened the stall door and slipped through, whispering calmly to the horse. It looked at him inquisitively with large, brown eyes. Nechan held out his hand, allowing the horse to sniff him with his soft nose. Sensing he boy was not a threat, he patiently allowed his bridle and saddle to be slipped on. Jaidan had the same success with his horse. The next two animals were just as well behaved. It was clear that these horses had been well trained by patient men rather than rough-handed soldiers.
An inaudible noise alerted the horses, making their ears prick up. Jaidan caught Nechan’s attention, gesturing for him to stay out of sight. As he peered through a crack between two panels of the stall, he strained his ears to listen.
The stable door swung open, letting sunlight flood into the dusty barn. Two stable hands came trundling in with wheelbarrows and pitchforks. They opened the first stall door and while talking to each other began cleaning out the sawdust around the horse’s hooves. The young men were oblivious to the presence of the strangers hidden two stalls down.
Jaidan realised they would be forced to make a surprise move before they were discovered. Nechan, peering between the legs of the horse in his stall, saw him signal to mount the animal. Nechan immediately realised they were about to make an escape. He shook his head, mouthing the words wait, but Jaidan ignored him. Now he had no choice.
The horses whinnied in surprise as riders leapt into their saddles. Before the stable hands could shout, Jaidan and Nechan had kicked the stall gates open and, leading the other two horses, cantered towards the open stable doors. The two farmhands grabbed their pitchforks and vaulted the stall door, shouting profanities as they chased after the riders, but they quickly disappeared in a cloud of billowing red dust.
Nechan could hardly believe their luck as he clung tight onto the horse, feeling its smooth, rhythmic movement beneath him. They had escaped. He could already make out the small thicket where their fellow comrades lay in wait and looking behind him there was no sign that they were being followed.
Hearing the sound of approaching hooves, the comrades scrambled out of their hiding place, relieved to see Jaidan and Nechan riding frantically towards them with two horses in tow. They were reunited seconds later in a frenzied cloud of sweat and dust.
“We need to go now!” Jaidan glanced back over his shoulder and then jumped down.
“Were you seen?” Eilendan asked as Jaidan helped the injured elf into the saddle. He was still weak and his normally pale face was unnaturally flushed.
“I’ll explain on the way. There’s no time now!” Jaidan replied hastily, looking back towards the farmstead. The distinct sound of alarm horns could be heard, their cries carrying in the wind. He turned to Nymril, who was still sat pale-faced in the grass. “Nymril, you will need to ride with me.”
She looked up at Jaidan and then at Eilendan, as if asking permission.
“He’s right, Nymril,” Eilendan sighed. “You don’t have the strength to hold onto me and I do not have the strength to hold you.”
Jaidan jumped nimbly into his saddle and then held down his arms to guide Nymril up, with Gaular’s help, until she was sat in front of him. Once she was steady, Gaular mounted his own horse. Turning the four horses round, they set off together at a fast pace, heading towards the distant hills, knowing it was important to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the farm. There was a lot of open land to cover before they reached the safety of the hills.
“How long ago was this?” Govan demanded.
He and his men had arrived to find the farmstead in disarray, with babbling farmhands running back and forth in a state of urgency and confusion.
The soldiers had not reached them soon enough. If they had some way of warning the farmstead more quickly, they would have been on the look out for the escaped convicts. Instead, they had gone about their normal, relaxed, daily routine. The intruders had caught them off guard and there had been nothing they could do.
“It can only have been about an hour ago!” stammered the first farmhand, still clutching onto his pitchfork.
“An hour at most, sir!” continued the second nervously.
Govan frowned at them, disapproving of their apparent feebleness. Working with horses had clearly made them soft. He was frustrated that the prisoners had managed to break into the barn and get away unscathed and with four horses. Now they were on horseback his job was going to be far harder.
“They only took four horses, so there must be two riding one. This will help to slow them down.” Govan was thinking out loud. “It should be possible to catch them up, but we will need to leave right now………..Javil?”
“Sir, they only have three horses ready to ride. The others have not even been broken in yet. What do you want to do?” Javil reported, anxiously.
“I need two men to ride out with me. Who among you are the most able riders?” Govan looked impatiently at the small gaggle of ragged soldiers before him. They all shrugged their shoulders nervously, looking at each other, waiting for someone else to volunteer. Two men eventually stepped forwards.
“Javil, take the rest of the men back to the fortress. We will start following the convicts, you follow on behind as soon as you can.”
“You heard him, let’s move!” bellowed Javil hoarsely. The remaining men jumped to attention, forming two columns and began a quick-paced march back to the fortress. The farmhand brought out the remaining horses, already wearing saddles and bridles.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Mount up, men!” Govan pulled himself up int
o his saddle. The horse bucked nervously several times, but he quickly got the animal under control and spurred the horse on in the direction the convicts had fled.
The two men mounted and followed reluctantly behind Govan. Neither of them was thrilled with the prospect of riding with him. This captain had a nasty habit of turning on his men when he was in a foul mood, and today was such a day. They knew they would have to watch their step and words around him.
“Do you think they will catch up with them?” The first farmhand leaned on his pitchfork, pleased to see the back of the soldiers.
“I just hope they are able to bring those horses back unharmed. They were nice animals!” replied the second lad, shaking his head and chewing casually on a blade of grass.
They both picked up their wheelbarrows, returning to their routine as if nothing had happened. As long as they were able to keep the Empire happy by supplying horses they knew they were out of harm’s way.
Jaidan had hung onto Nymril for hours. She had collapsed, exhausted from the escape and the riding, and had now fallen into an uneasy sleep. Jaidan was growing more and more concerned, knowing her Inner Light was fading.
“We need to stop!” Jaidan rode up alongside Eilendan, who was also showing signs of fatigue and fever. He nodded in agreement and signalled to Gaular and Nechan.
Finding a small knoll of old ash trees they halted, taking shelter under their bare boughs, the leaves now scattered and windblown about the floor. There was nowhere else that could offer better cover in the vast, barren landscape of the arid plains.
“Let me take her,” Gaular offered, reaching up to lift Nymril gently from the horse. Jaidan eased her down slowly, guiding her head. Her body was completely limp and she did not stir. They laid her in the thick leaf litter, the cold, biting wind whipping round them.