by Jenny McKane
She listened. What was that faint noise, coming from the tops of the trees? A high-pitched twitter. She had never heard anything like it in her life.
Suddenly, she tensed. There was a rustle in the grass, just outside the tree. Soft. It didn’t sound like footsteps.
She gasped. Two eyes were staring in at her. A strange, small creature. It was covered in brown fur, with pointy ears and a long nose. Its long tail flickered slightly, but it didn’t move, simply regarding her, its head cocked on its side. Avalon took a deep breath, reaching slowly for her dagger.
At that moment, it scurried away. She let out a breath of relief. What was this strange place? And what was the creature?
She thought again of Everard, telling her about the Stromel stories, tales of strange creatures. She had scoffed, believing them proof of the Stromel’s child-like nature. They weren’t real. No such creatures existed in their land, and she had never been told of any that ever had. It wasn’t in the Essential History or mentioned in the Grey Book.
But she had just seen one, with her own eyes. It had been real.
She gazed down at the ground. Was there movement? Yes. She peered closer. An army of tiny black creatures were scurrying beneath her feet, oblivious to her. She reached down, holding her breath and picked one up on her finger. It scurried along her skin, but she could barely feel it. She flicked it off, fear taking hold of her.
She had to get out of here. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She knew that her commander wouldn’t blame her when he heard what had happened. What was she supposed to have done? It had been her only course of action. There had been no other shelter from the barrage of arrows that were raining down on them.
Still. It was a forbidden zone, and she was dressed like a Stromel woman. If she was discovered here, it might be assumed she was one. She knew how it worked. Someone could see her and attack her, asking questions about her identity later.
If Grey Guards inhabited the Outlying Zone. She simply didn’t know.
She grabbed her bag, stuffing her things back into it. Her dagger she rested inside her left sleeve, ready to be pulled out quickly. She would have to run back towards the High Area and cross back over, and hope and pray that whoever had been shooting arrows at her had gone.
She was just about to pull herself out of the hollow when she paused. There was more movement, outside. Footsteps? If they were, whoever was walking was trying to be quiet. She held her breath.
“You might as well come out. You are surrounded.”
It was a man’s voice. Avalon froze, her mind spinning. She could burst out, her dagger at the ready, but she didn’t know how many people were out there. It would probably be safer to assess the situation first.
Suddenly, a face appeared at the hollow, staring in at her. Two vivid blue eyes in a slightly olive-tinged face. A man. He smiled slowly. Avalon could see he was dressed in warm winter clothing. His light brown hair was shaved high on both sides and pulled back off his face into a long ponytail down his back. Strange blue symbols were tattooed on his neck.
He held out his hand toward her. What choice did she have? She took it, and he pulled her out of the hollow so quickly that it made her dizzy.
He stood close to her. Two other people were nearby. One was a woman, with pale skin, and flowing auburn hair. She had the same tattoos etched into her skin. The other was a man with a long brown beard. The man who had held the sword to her neck at the inn at Blaimri. Their swords were drawn and pointed at her.
“Drop your weapon,” he said. “Your dagger.” She slowly pulled it out and threw it on the ground in front of him.
“Your name?” He smiled suddenly, a flash of white against the darkness of his skin.
Avalon shook her head. She had to keep up the pretense that she was mute, a traveler who had simply lost her way.
He took out his sword, pointing it into her chest. “Your name,” he repeated. “You can stop pretending that you can’t understand me, or that you can’t speak. I know you can. I heard you talking with your friend in the High Area.”
Avalon’s heart stilled. “I am Iselin,” she said, looking him in the eye. “I am a traveler from the south, journeying with my brother. Have you seen him? If you could help me, I would be so grateful.” She held her breath, waiting for his response.
The woman holding the sword sighed impatiently. “Enough. Kill her, and let’s be on our way.”
The man pressed his sword harder into her chest. “Wrong. How about you tell me the truth, this time.” His blue eyes sparkled. “Last chance.”
Chapter Five
Avalon held her breath. What should she do?
Her eyes narrowed, she quickly assessed how far away the woman and the other man were. Not that far; she could span the distance in five steps, but she only had her dagger, and they had swords. She would have to be deadly accurate, and there was still the man who held the sword to her chest. He would be on her in an instant.
No. The timing was not right. Best to play along, for now, until a better moment presented itself.
She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.
“You are right,” she said. “I am not Stromel. I am a Grey Guard.”
“I knew it!” spat the woman, her face creasing into lines of hatred. “Even the way she walked wasn’t right. Even the way she wore her veil.”
“What is your name?” the man with the bright blue eyes repeated.
She sighed. “Guardian Avalon Lund,” she said crisply.
The man considered her, cocking his head to side. “Well, Guardian Avalon Lund,” he said slowly. “You realize where you are?” He looked around him, up to the trees.
“The Outlying Zone,” she said. “I had no choice when you attacked us.” She swallowed painfully. “Where is my companion?”
The man shrugged. “Running away, I assume,” he said. “Or in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death. He will be found, have no fear on that score.” He smiled slowly. “And when he is, he will be killed. We do not take kindly to you impersonating us, Guardian.”
Avalon stared at him, her eyes filling with hatred. She said nothing.
“What was your mission?” he asked, mildly.
Avalon was silent.
He laughed, as he drew nearer, so that his face was only inches away from her own. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her face.
“Kill her,” said the woman. “We do not have time for this.”
“Perhaps.” He stared into her face, considering. “I am not sure…”
Suddenly, there was noise in the distance. Avalon could hear footsteps crunching on leaves, and a low, guttural sound. Short, sharp sounds, running together. She felt a chill run down her spine. Whatever was making that sound wasn’t human.
The group stilled. “Kill her!” repeated the woman. “We must go. They are not far away.”
“They know the boundary has been violated,” said the bearded man.
The man with the bright blue eyes grabbed Avalon. “We will take her with us,” he said. “She may be useful.”
The woman opened her mouth to protest, but the man silenced her with a sharp look.
“For the love of the Goddess,” hissed the bearded man. “Let’s go!”
The man with the bright blue eyes bound her hands with rope quickly, then started running, leading her. She was forced to run behind him. The woman and the bearded man followed.
The strange noises pursued them. The forest became a blur of brown and green in Avalon’s eyes as they sprinted.
What was she going to do? She knew that the woman, at least, wanted her dead. And the man who had bound her wasn’t convinced that she should stay alive. Perhaps she should try to negotiate for her life. Promise to give them information, if that was what they wanted.
Her mind thought quickly. Yes, that could be a plan. Pretend that she had completely surrendered and was willing to co-operate. Only, she wouldn’t give them the right information.
It migh
t work. It was all that she had for the moment, unless an opportunity to escape presented itself.
The man pulled roughly on the rope, causing her to stumble. She stared at his running figure, hate sweeping over her.
And what had happened to Everard? Please, Agnor, let him be alive, she begged.
***
Everard sat back in the cave, sweat running down his face. He didn’t even have the energy to wipe it away.
He had been running for hours, it seemed, managing to stay slightly ahead of his pursuers. It had been rough going. And then, he had spied this cave, just below a ledge. He had jumped down, falling onto his face, but he had managed to crawl into it, collapsing gratefully into the darkness.
He had heard his pursuers passing overhead, and then continue onward. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe, but not for long, he knew. They would double back when it became obvious that he was no longer ahead of them. He had to think what to do.
Everard gritted his teeth and turned to the arrow lodged in his right arm. It would have to come out now before it started to kill him slowly. He held his breath, then yanked at it, stifling a scream of agony. It came out relatively clean. He ripped pieces off his cloak, winding them around the wound quickly. Blood seeped through immediately, but at least it was dealt with. For now.
He knew the chance of infection was high. He would need to find ribwort bark. He had seen the tree growing in this area. His nursemaid had often used it on various scrapes and scratches when he had been a child.
He leaned back against the cave wall, wincing. And then, the thoughts that he had pushed aside in his desperate flight suddenly crowded into his mind. Avalon. Where was she? Was she alive? He had seen her heading toward the Outlying Zone, but then he had lost sight of her. Had they killed her?
The thought of it overwhelmed him, and he could barely breathe with the pain. They should have been more careful, he thought desperately. They should have taken the longer route, through the villages, where it would have been harder to be attacked. They shouldn’t have talked, at all. He had told her that there were eyes and ears everywhere. He knew the Stromel, and they were even tougher and warier in the Far North than where he came from.
They had failed, and because of that, there was a high chance that Avalon was dead.
He had grown to respect her in the short time they had been together here. She was tough, a true warrior. She hadn’t let his taunts defeat her, despite the temper that had led them both here. He was dismayed at the tenderness he felt as he thought of her.
He didn’t want to feel tenderness. It only led to pain.
And Everard Varr had enough pain. He thought of his upbringing. He wasn’t from a high-born Jarle family, as he had claimed. Only he knew the truth of his origins. He had made tough decisions to fulfil his dreams of becoming a Grey Guard. To win the respect of his father. Everard scoffed to himself. Not that it mattered, anymore. The old man was dead.
It was probably why he had reacted so fiercely to Avalon. A girl from a high-born background, whose father was the Minister for the Military. She wouldn’t have had to fight to become a Grey Guard like he had. Everything would have been handed to her on a silver spoon. Or so he had imagined.
She wasn’t like that.
Everard felt his eyes closing. Sleep was overwhelming him. He fought to stay awake; he could not afford to pass out here. It wasn’t safe. He needed to keep moving. He needed to find Avalon.
But it seemed he had no choice. His eyes fluttered, then closed firmly. Maybe just a little sleep, he told himself before he drifted away. Just to get his strength back.
***
“We have to leave,” the woman hissed to the man dragging Avalon, over her shoulder as they sprinted. “We have to cross back over.”
The man nodded quickly. Avalon could see the snow and barren rocks of the High Area in the distance. They were heading towards it. The man dragging her approached it a rapid pace.
“Hold tight,” he whispered to her. And then, they were leaping through.
Searing pain convulsed her body, the same as when she had passed through the first time. She could see the man trembling, but his grip on the rope didn’t lessen. He didn’t stop for a minute but continued leaping through the terrain. Snowflakes filled the air. The temperature had dropped dramatically.
Her lungs felt like they were about to burst. How much longer could they keep up this pace?
But there seemed to be a purpose to where they were running, now. The group headed determinedly through the snow, scrambling down terrain until they were at the mouth of a large cave. Huge rocks covered its entrance, but the group didn’t hesitate for a moment. They climbed deftly, edging their way through a narrow space at the top. Avalon was dragged through, and then she hit the ground with a thud.
Darkness overwhelmed her. She blinked, twice, trying to see.
The group lay on the ground, breathing heavily. The man loosened his grip on the rope which bound her, collapsing back. She moved suddenly, to run away, but the man casually gripped her leg. She stared back at him, glaring.
“Don’t bother,” he said, panting heavily. “Even if you run, I have people ahead. You can’t escape, Guardian.”
The woman glared at her. “You have made a mistake, Skyresh. You shouldn’t have brought her here.”
“It was my choice to make, Minna,” he replied shortly.
The woman named Minna turned to the bearded man. “Back me up, Brunn,” she said. “Tell him that we cannot afford to have a guardian of the realm here. She must be killed, immediately.”
Brunn chuckled. “It is not my place, Minna,” he said. “We must trust that Skyresh knows what he is doing.”
“I do,” laughed Skyresh. He stood up suddenly. “We should keep moving. If they have crossed over looking for us, they might hear us, so close to the entrance.”
They travelled through the cave. Avalon was surprised at how deep it was; it seemed to go on forever. At the start, it was narrow; they had to press against the wet wall to get through for what seemed an eternity. But then, it opened dramatically. Avalon gasped.
Huge formations of sparkling stalagmites hung from the roof. Avalon had never seen anything so beautiful. They seemed to glow like crystals. But that was not the most surprising thing.
There were people, everywhere, milling about. It looked like a small community, with sleeping blankets and cooking utensils. Small firepits dotted the ground, off into the distance, and she could see the flames from torches licking against the walls where they had been placed.
The man named Skyresh gazed at her astounded face, staring at the scene.
“You weren’t expecting this, were you?” he grinned. They walked further down the rocks, until they were amid it.
Avalon felt a stab of excitement. This must be it! The rebel’s headquarters! If she could only escape and manage to get back to Vyheim Castle, she would have so much to tell the commander. But she would have to find Everard first. It was going to be challenging.
People greeted them as they walked through the camp, staring at her curiously. Eventually, they got to an area against a far wall and sat down.
Minna pulled off her boots, rubbing her feet. “So, what is this plan of yours, Skyresh?”
“All in good time,” Skyresh replied. He turned to Avalon, his vivid blue eyes shining in the dim light. “Are you hungry, guardian? That was quite a run, and it builds an appetite.”
“Some food would be welcome,” she replied, meeting his eye.
Minna made a disgusted sound. “I do not know what game you are playing, Skyresh,” she said. “But I know it is a dangerous one.”
“Minna,” he said mildly. “We are not children anymore, and I outrank you, do not forget.”
Minna shot him a dirty look. “More’s the pity,” she said. She got up and walked away.
Brunn chuckled. “Women,” he said.
Skyresh grinned. “Just so, my friend. She will calm down.”
; He turned back to Avalon, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at her.
“We shall eat,” he said. “And drink. And then, Guardian, you must make a choice. Talk, or die.” He smiled suddenly. “Too easy.”
Avalon swallowed, but returned his smile. “I think that we can come to an arrangement.”
“Good.” He picked up some bread and tore the loaf apart, offering her a piece. “Freshly baked, this morning. We know how to treat our unexpected visitors.”
Avalon chewed on the coarse bread, thinking. Brunn ate quickly, but Skyresh picked at his bread, staring into the flames of the fire. He picked up a water flagon and poured drinks, offering one to her.
She took it. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head, politely.
“Why are you here?” he said suddenly.
Avalon swallowed the last of her bread. “I am searching for information,” she said carefully. “About a man named Gwalen.”
Brunn chuckled. Skyresh silenced him with a look. “What do you know of Gwalen?” he asked her.
Avalon took a deep breath. “I know that he is the leader of the rebels,” she said. “I know that he is quick and has evaded capture many times.”
“Nothing else?” A small smile played over his face.
“Not much.” Avalon took a long, slow sip of her water. “I do not know what he looks like, or where he is. That is why my partner and I were searching.”
“Ah.” Skyresh nodded. “Your companion, who we still seek.”
Avalon digested that information, relief washing over her. They hadn’t caught Everard, not yet anyway.
Skyresh turned to Brunn. “Escolen was suspicious of them, straight away?”
Brunn nodded. “Everyone was,” he said, staring at Avalon. “A tall story, of a man and his mute sister searching for their uncle. The woman is obviously not Stromel, although the man was convincing.”
Skyresh looked at Avalon. “No, she is high born,” he said. “Where are you from?”