by Nicole Burr
XXVI
This would become the pattern of Esra’s next days, waking a few hours before nightfall to practice with vigorous intensity for as long as she could stand it before collapsing in their temporary camp, attempting to steal a few moments of sleep before they continued their ride towards Fira Nadim Forest. Almost every inch of Esra’s body was covered in angry purple bruises. Fynn made her various Herbal remedies, which he would heat in a small pot by the magickally invisible Fire before dipping strips of cloth into the mixture and wrapping the poultices around her sore limbs. Esra was infinitely grateful for these sometimes foul smelling concoctions, as they did much to ease her pain and allowed her to endure the long ride through the night.
On days when they were severely pressed for time it was dried, magickally imitated meat and cold stews. Esra didn’t mind much, as Fynn’s Herbs kept it flavorful. And Meshok usually appeared at meal times, devouring any scraps left behind and rolling over to let everyone rub her eagerly exposed belly.
They would also practice Tur before beginning their journey, having Esra call up certain maps and locations using the ancient language. A few nights before Fynn began to instruct her further on the use of Tur for communication.
“Instead of Orro Wey, which are the words fer sight magick and knowledge, ye need te say Orro Ken fer sight magick and communication. This is followed by the name of whoever ye want the Tur te be sent te. The other thing about using Tur te communicate, as if squiggly little worms on yer arm ain’t creepy enough, is that the person receiving the words must say Alor Etta, which is the spell te accept the message. It doesn’t jes show up on yer arm.”
“And ye said before that I could speak the message out loud or in my head in Tur or my language, right?”
“Aye, but the message will always appear in Tur.”
“How do I know when someone is sending me a message?”
“Ye know that strange itchy, burning sensation ye get when ye call up a map, jes before the lines appear? Ye will feel that.”
“And how do I know who it’s from?”
“The person’s name will appear in the top left corner.”
“Alright,” she said slowly, remembering the awful sleepless nights last winter she spent scratching and rubbing the insatiable rashes covering her arms.
“Ye’ll get used te it in time. Let’s practice. First I want ye te accept the message I’m going te send ye. Remember, ye can use one arm or both.”
Deciding it would be easier with one, Esra held up her left arm and remained still for a moment until she felt the familiar burning itch. She was relieved that it was much more subtle, like a map was trying to appear, just as Fynn had said. She whispered the words he had taught her. “Alor Etta.”
Slowly the script snaked its way across her arms to reveal a short sentence in Tur. Arland is a Bug eating scoundrel...
“I can see it,” Esra exclaimed, proud her first attempt was successful. “Yer a scoundrel.”
“If I want te send a long message, it will appear in multiple phases. There will be a symbol that looks like a Sun at the end of the line te indicates there is more. Ye will need te say Terna te continue reading. It’s almost like turning the page of a book. In fact, that’s how ye can remember the word, Terna fer turning.”
“I see it. Terna.” As she spoke the black words disappeared and reformed into a new illuminated sentence.
…who doesn’t know I’ve poisoned his stew so I can marry his sister.
“Fynn!” Esra reprimanded him with a playful swat on the shoulder. She focused all her energy on sending him a message, saying the spell lowly under her breath. Orro Ken Fynn…
He looked up at her and grinned, realizing that she was trying to communicate with him and whispered the acceptance spell.
She’ll never say yes to a brute like ye.
“Ah, yer breakin’ me heart, Es.” He held his hand over his chest in a mock swoon. She continued to practice, whispering the spell to speak with the others in her Assembly. Over the next few nights Esra would be interrupted by their communication attempts as they tried to teach her to recognize the subtle tingling sensation of the spell. That was proving to be the hardest part, especially if she was distracted by some other task.
In addition to her lessons with Tur, Esra continued to practice using her shield as they moved on to defending with the sword and hand to hand combat. The days became blurred together as she fought against fatigue and aching muscles, overcoming them gradually to gain strength and endurance. It was a different strength from what she had acquired working on the farm and she could feel it steadily growing.
As her skill level improved they continued to add new lessons, moving on from defensive maneuvers to offensive exercises. The shortsword that Baelin had made for Esra could not have been a better fit. It was as if the sword itself had an influence on her training, willing her to learn and adapt at a steady pace. Soon she was able to deflect a few of their attacks with her shield or sword and could occasionally land a blow herself. Rotating through the different sparring partners and their various weapons helped her gain new perspectives on how different warriors fought and kept her from getting too comfortable with one opponent or fighting style.
As they moved south towards the forest, the rolling hills of the Jade Gardens had gradually morphed into a flatter terrain. The lush dark green Grass was beginning to be replaced by thinner, lighter fields with less vegetation. Under normal circumstances the hunting would have been sparse at best, but thanks to Fynn’s expert gathering and the magickally created meat, they had no worries over food. Esra watched with interest as the new land exposed itself before her, trying to burn the images of the countryside into her mind so that she would remember them later. If she ever did get to see her grandparents again, she couldn’t wait to tell them all about this.
Even with her heightened attentiveness, it greatly startled Esra one morning to see the vague horizon of a Tree line as she was dismounting Roja.
“Is that Fira Nadim Forest?” She asked Nadia with surprise.
“Aye. And it’s likely the Unni already know we’re on our way.”
“How?”
“As ye recall, the Unni are not fond of visitors and keep their boundaries well-guarded. They’ve probably already sent a scout back to the main camp at Shadow Glenn to warn of our possible arrival.”
“Is that good?”
“I’m not sure,” Nadia answered mildly. “Let’s hope so.”
After falling asleep under a small cluster of shaded Trees for the day, Esra awoke at dusk to the low rumbling voices of her group members. She pushed herself up and stretched, reaching for her sword as Baelin called to her.
“No need fer that tonight, Esra. Come join us.”
She nodded and approached the low Fire, grateful for one night’s respite from her lessons but curious as to why they should cease with such little time left. Plopping down between Arland and Nadia, Esra yawned largely as she waited for them to continue their previous discussion.
“We’ll be at Fira Nadim in the early morning,” Baelin explained. “So we’ll sleep a little later tonight te gather our strength, as we will probably not be able te rest during the day tomorrow.”
“Alright,” Esra nodded drowsily. “So what’s the plan?”
“Well, there will probably be a scout or two before we even reach the Tree line. I think we should approach unarmed, with our weapons tied te the Horses in plain sight but out of easy reach. This will hopefully give any awaiting Unni scouts the impression that we come in peace.”
“Hopefully?” Esra raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, hopefully. Ye must remember that we have not attempted te communicate with the Unni in almost a hundred years, so we must be very cautious, as they will most certainly be suspicious. In the event that anything should go wrong, please don’t say anything and just follow my lead. I will most likely be the one able te exchange a few successful words with the scouts since I am part Unni. And Arland w
ill do what he can te help ease the situation with his skills.”
Esra glanced over at Arland who was looking at the ground, deep in thought. She remembered that Nor, the Great Keeper of Strength, had told her there was a story behind why Humans were now shunned by the Unni people.
“What happened?” She asked tentatively. “A hundred years ago, I mean? Why do they hate us so much?”
Everyone was silent for a long moment before Nadia began to speak.
“Hundreds of years ago, when the Stronghold was still being used by all the races fer learning, Baelin’s grandfather was the Unni-se, chief of his race. His first wife was a strong Unni warrior who had borne him a son they named Zakai. After her early death the chief fell in love with a Human woman and decided to take her as his second wife. Marrying a Human was something that had never happened before in the history of their kind, at least not fer a chief. Marriage is considered a spiritual as well as physical journey, so once an Unni takes a wife or husband, they very rarely ever take another unless they are widowed. Most did not mind the mingling of the races, as this was still a time of peace and sharing, when the Stronghold was being used fer the exchange of knowledge. And Baelin’s grandmother was a greatly respected Human among the Unni, even before she was married to the chief. But there were a handful who were angry at the Unni-se fer what they saw as a weakening of the blood lines. Baelin’s grandfather also knew that his Human wife would not live nearly as long as an Unni woman, who as ye know can live to be almost a thousand, but he loved her very deeply and accepted this fate.
“The chief’s Human wife gave birth to a half-Unni son who would later become Baelin’s father. The full blooded older brother Zakai resented this new addition to his family, but this was due mostly to grief from the loss of his own mother, not hatred fer his new family. At about this time the thirty first King came into his reign, King Rїvan. I assume that Cane told ye about his treachery and how he stole the throne from his older brother Prince Haylore?”
Esra thought back to the vivid account of LeVara’s history that Cane had told her a lifetime ago. The story of a vicious younger brother, about the murdering of women and children. The poisoning of The Naduri River that killed an entire army and its peaceful King.
“Yes, he told me.”
“Well, King Rїvan had been able to kill off most of the Human army and end any resistance when he poisoned the river. But there was still the Stronghold. He knew that the races had come together fer centuries now to learn from one another, and that this unity was the one thing that could destroy him. Not wanting to risk a direct attack so soon, he instead devised a plan to cause trouble in these harmonious relationships. He would destroy them from within. And the first step was to capture the Human wife of the Unni-se.
“Baelin’s grandfather was so distraught about the kidnapping of his beloved new wife that he called upon the aide of the Humans, Shendari and Elves to free his love. Sensing a trap, a War Council was hastily assembled to discuss the matter, with representatives from the four races in attendance. There was much debate on whether a rescue should even be attempted, which greatly upset the Unni-se. The Elves believed we should not rush in to Rїvan’s lair to save one person, as the fate of the entire Kingdom now depended upon our cohesive action. The Daughter of the Shendari felt that a small group of volunteers should be sent to try and recover the Unni-se’s wife while the rest of the Stronghold members planned fer a war. And the Humans, angered at all of the murders and treachery that had recently plagued LeVara, wanted revenge.
“It was normal fer the War Council to disagree. Healthy debates were always encouraged and there had been battles before, mostly minor ones between tribes. What didn’t normally happen, however, was that the Humans grew tired of waiting and convinced the Unni to join them in launching their own attack on Rїvan before the Council could reach a unified decision. Many warriors died that day, including the great Unni-se and his wife. Stricken with grief at the loss of their leaders, the Unni resented the Shendari and Elves fer not aiding in their cause. The Elves and Shendari were upset at the Humans and Unni fer not respecting the laws of the Council and ruining any chance of a unified attack. The Humans and Unni continued fighting amongst themselves, as the Unni also blamed the Humans fer convincing them to go. No matter that it was the Humans who fought alongside them at the attempted rescue. Some took it even further and decided it was the treachery of a Human wife that had brought this disaster upon their people. In their blind anger they claimed that the wife of the Unni-se must have used sorcery to seduce their leader, intending all along to lead him to his death. And wasn’t it also a Human that was causing such chaos in LeVara? This attitude of mistrust began the slow dissolution of the unity of the races. Eventually, all of the races returned to their respective homes, full of resentment and mistrust. And the Keepers emerged in their stead. They were those who decided to stay at The Gardens and work together.”
“How did everything go so wrong?” Esra asked with sadness.
“They lost track of their true goals. One mistrust and wrong word led to another, until it grew into something so big that no one could stop it. It was like a runaway Horse. That was why the Keepers wrote The Five Laws. We hope to rebuild what the four races used to share and reclaim the hope that once lived in LeVara.”
“So what happened to yer father?” Esra turned to Baelin, who looked up slowly. The small Fire crackled loudly and he absentmindedly stirred it with his staff.
“My uncle Zakai decided te take up a wife, a strong Unni woman known fer her unmatched skill in war strategy. It allowed him te avoid the brunt of the resistance that came from a few of the members who disliked his father’s second marital choice. Zakai became chief and my father went te live at the Stronghold te become a Keeper. About five hundred years later the half-Unni that was my father fell in love with a Human woman and decided te take her as his wife. They were very happy together fer a long time. Like my grandfather, he was a very dedicated husband. Tallen killed my mother many years ago when she was discovered te be part of an underground scouting group among his ranks. She was young then, as I was only a child myself, but she had managed te penetrate deeper into his forces than anyone before her. My father died a few years later from an illness our most talented healers could neither name nor cure. I believe it was from a broken heart as he never truly recovered from the loss of his love.”
“How awful,” Esra admitted bitterly. She thought of Baelin as a child, first learning that his mother had been killed so senselessly, and then watching his father slowly succumb to the same fate. “Did ye ever live at Fira Nadim?”
“When I was a young lad we used te visit. But once my parents died that stopped.”
“So that’s why it’s been a hundred years since a Human’s been there.”
“Aye.”
“But all this would make Tallen very old though, over a hundred?”
“Actually, he’s almost two hundred now,” Arland offered. “No one is quite sure what kind of sorcery he’s using to do it, or if like Baelin he has ancestry in another race. There are different rumors, one of which is that he was able to capture a Shendari, who as ye know are immortal, and somehow adapt their longevity to his own body.”
“So then Rїvan murdered yer grandparents hundreds of years ago and then his ancestor, Tallen, killed yer mother? Ye must want to avenge them. And how is it that Tallen is a descendant of a King and yet we’ve never heard of him? Is he related to King Keridon? ”
“No, yer current King has none of Rїvan’s blood in him, thank the stars,” Arland answered. “King Rїvan ruled fer many years, but he was cursed by another fate. In his greed, he decided to take as Queen the most powerful woman in the country, a great sorcerer named Yuri. He thought that this would show the absolute power he had over the Kingdom of LeVara.”
“Wait a minute…Yuri. That sounds familiar. She was the enchantress that split the Naduri river into the southern fork when Rїvan poisoned it. She was a great
sorcerer.”
“Aye, that she was. The greatest.”
Fynn leaned over to spoon some stew into his bowl as he chimed in. “What Rїvan didn’t plan fer, was that Yuri was not a woman to be tamed. Reminds me of ye, Es. A feisty one, Yuri was.”
“That would be putting it mildly,” Arland laughed. “Instead of opposing the marriage, Yuri welcomed it as an opportunity to keep an eye on Rїvan and achieve revenge fer her people. The King was so conceited that he barely wondered why this beautiful sorcerer that had fought against him so fervently was now so eager to be his wife. And I daresay the spells she was using helped blind him further.
“Although Yuri was very powerful, the King had many advisors and scouts in her midst, and she feared she would never have a chance to enact her revenge. Many Moons went by until the Queen finally announced that she was with child. The Kingdom mourned silently, thinking that Yuri had finally given up and all had been lost. The King was overjoyed at the news that two of the most powerful sorcerers in all of LeVara would bear a child. In his vanity he never questioned Yuri’s devotion to him. While the Queen was giving birth, she allowed no one but her most trusted maidens and midwives in her private birthing chamber, which was customary practice. The moment the child was born it was exchanged fer another, the newborn of some simple farming folk with absolutely no magickal background. And Rїvan’s son was taken far away with another family to be raised in seclusion, never to know who his real parents were. Yuri had briefly contemplated killing the child, as the threat of him was still so great, but unlike Rїvan she had faith in Humanity and the power of true love. She hoped that the child would grow to be more like herself than his father in the care of loving people.”