Ancient Voices: Into the Depths

by Allison D. Reid

  Elowyn wanted to give up, to sleep for just a little while, but knew that she couldn’t. No matter what, she had to continue. She sung softly to herself under her breath, trying to remember all of the songs she had heard the monks sing in the fields and in the garden. She wasn't sure that she got all the words right, but at least the attempt kept her awake, while her body mindlessly complied with her demand that it just keep moving. The night grew deeper and the moon eventually began its descent. She stopped again to rest, closing her eyes though her muscles still convulsed as though they were going to walk on in spite of her. She had just begun to fall asleep when she felt a small pinch, then another, this time harder. The wisps were not going to let her quit.

  Elowyn roused herself and kept going, stumbling over fallen limbs, tangles of vine, and stones strewn across the forest floor. She twisted her ankle once, but managed to recover herself without falling. Though it ached after that, she could still walk, more carefully this time. Eventually the sky began to get lighter, unless it was her tired eyes playing tricks on her. No, it was definitely lighter, grayer, and then warmer as though the horizon might be showing the first signs of pink and orange, if only she could see it through the trees. The air became different too. Was the smell of the sea getting stronger? Surely she was getting closer. And then the wisps stopped abruptly.

  Elowyn’s mind and body were both spent. She was grateful to stop, but was not thinking clearly enough to question why. Were they finally allowing her to rest? She was not yet back into the outskirts of Minhaven, she was sure of that. The wisps floated around her, trying to get her attention, their musical voices calling out to her. She did not understand what they wanted her to do. They illuminated her path once again, but would not continue forward. They wanted her to go on from there alone.

  “But without your light, I cannot see! The sun has not risen enough yet.”

  Still they urged her to go forward on her own. She would have to trust them. Elowyn slowly felt her way forward into the dark, trying not to stumble or run into sharp branches. The light of the wisps grew distant behind her until they disappeared altogether. Why had they left her? She felt alone and afraid, blind in the deep gray morning of the forest. She was so tired, she just wanted to drop to the ground where she was and wait for full daylight. But she had come so far with the wisps help. Did she dare not listen to them once more? She went on a little more until she thought she saw a point of light flickering ahead in the distance. She rubbed her watery, tired eyes and peered intently through the trees. Was that fire light? Perhaps she had come to the edge of Minhaven after all. Or stumbled upon the camp of an enemy. She would not know which until she got closer.

  Elowyn inched forward slowly, doing her best not to make any noise even though she could not see where she was stepping. It was definitely a fire...and two figures...one sleeping, and one awake, feeding the small fire with fresh wood. But who were they? She could not tell. She inched closer. All was going well until she stepped on a brittle branch that snapped under her weight. The man tending the fire roused his companion and stood up, drawing his weapon. Her presence was known. Should she flee, or stand still hoping they would think it was just an animal and eventually settle back to their fire? The man drew back the hood of his cloak so that he could hear better. The firelight illuminated a head of wild red locks. It was Glak.

  Elowyn’s nerve finally broke. Fighting back tears she rushed forward, too exhausted to realize at first what a foolish thing that was to do while he stood there with his sword drawn, equally blinded by the darkness and light from the fire.

  “It’s just me, Elowyn,” she called out.

  Glak dropped his sword as she came bounding out of the trees and wrapped her arms around him, her small body shaking with sobs. She would not have normally dared to do this, but today was different. Her body, heart, and mind were all broken. She had tried to lose herself in the wilderness because she thought she needed no one. But her frightening encounter with the beasts had made her realize that she didn’t really want to be alone. Not anymore.

  She felt a blanket being wrapped around her. She looked up to see Bane’s concerned face peering down at her, which only made her cry more. If any two people in the world could protect her from the horrors she had seen, it would be them. The wisps had not guided her home, but they had taken her to the closest island of safety they possibly could have. How had they known?

  The two men sat her down by the fire and offered her food, which she gratefully took. But she could not rest yet. “As soon as it is light enough, we must leave this place,” Elowyn said with a fear in her voice that made both men take notice. “Minhaven...and the whole of the world...is in great danger.”

  Battle of the Dark Valley

  Elowyn’s stomach was tied up in knots as she darted in and out between the Kinship, barely avoiding getting pawed or shoved aside by their restless steeds. She hung their saddle bags, tightened girths, and adjusted stirrups, just as she had so many times before. But never had her hands shaken so unsteadily that she fumbled with the clasps and clumsily dropped the bags on her toes. Never had the tension seemed greater than now, when the fate of the whole world seemed to hang in the balance. Everything was at stake. The men knew it. The horses knew it. And most of all, Glak knew it.

  To make matters worse, Morganne was arguing with him, and right in front of his men, too. Glak scowled at her, but was held captive to her voice as she followed him relentlessly.

  “Please, don’t do this!” Morganne begged. “You cannot fight them this way—you cannot win this way.”

  “You don’t know that,” Glak snapped.

  “I do know it, because the Prophets have written it, era upon era! You’re walking into a massacre!”

  “I am glad that my men have more faith in me than you do,” Glak growled. Elowyn had never seen him so angry, or so full of purpose. She half expected his red hair to burst into flame, and the ice blue of his eyes to melt away in the heat of his fury. Elowyn understood that Glak was not going to back down, no matter what Morganne said. She was only fueling the intensity of his resolve.

  “My faith in you, and your men, is not the point,” Morganne said with exasperation. “This battle is happening on a level that is beyond all of us. Swords will not determine the outcome, they never have.”

  “Perhaps,” Glak conceded tersely. “But even the holy Varol, when his prayers had all been said, strapped on his armor, lifted his sword, and went into full battle against the enemy. As I have reminded you before, I am not Varol. Let others more worthy of Aviad’s attention pray for us. I will fight to the bloody end, whether it be mine, or that of the evil presence beyond the grey veil. That is all I know how to do. So I say to all who can hear me,” he raised his voice louder, “pray for us, fight with us, or get out of our way!”

  Glak brushed past Morganne, grabbing the lead of a horse from one of the stable hands. Turning his piercing eyes toward Elowyn, he asked, “Do you know how to ride?”

  Elowyn swallowed hard, her voice suddenly gone dry and silent. She shook her head in response. “Then you’ll have to learn along the way.”

  “Even if you insist on this madness, must you take my sister into it with you?” Morganne asked. The sense of frustration and defeat she felt was evident in her voice. This was a very old argument, and Glak had gone beyond the point of reason. She had no way to stop him, though every part of her being told her that she must.

  “She’s the only one who knows where the dark valley is—we need her to guide us. But I swear to you that she will not see battle. Once we are close, she will turn back. The horse she rides is well-trained and will know the way.”

  There was nothing more Morganne could say. She just stood there with pleading eyes, wringing her hands while Glak helped Elowyn use the stirrups to boost herself into the saddle. Elowyn had watched the men swing with ease onto the backs of their mounts countless times, but she had never done so herself. Like the first time she had shot with a bow, ob
servation had not prepared her for the real thing. She was higher up than she expected, and even through the saddle, she could feel every shifting movement of the horse beneath her. Feeling unsteady in her seat, she wanted to lean forward and grab the horse’s neck to hold on, but Glak told her she was more likely to fall that way.

  “Sit straight,” he commanded. “And hold on with your legs, not your hands. That’s right. But don’t press against his belly with your calves until it is time to move.”

  Elowyn listened attentively to every bit of advice Glak gave her while she stroked the horse’s mane and the side of his neck. She could only hope that he would be kind to a young, inexperienced rider.

  “Hold the reins loosely. I will keep the lead until you’ve gotten used to the movement. Try not to fall, and watch for low branches.”

  Before she knew it, Elowyn was being pulled forward across the field with Glak riding alongside her holding onto her horse’s lead. She bumped uncomfortably in the saddle until she figured out how to match the horse’s movement like the other riders. A day of riding turned out to be just as tiring as a day of walking, and made her twice as sore, though they were able to travel faster and with fewer rests.

  No one spoke, much to Elowyn’s surprise. She was accustomed to the good-natured banter and posturing of their training sessions, but their complete silence on this ride was unnerving. Were they always this way, or was this impending battle more ominous than any other? Elowyn reminded herself that this was no longer practice—it was real; possibly the last ride into battle for any one of them, and they were keenly aware of it.

  Elowyn glanced at Glak now and again, his jaw set and expression closed. None of the others knew the secret he kept, nor of the connection he had to the dark presence they were about to face. It was one that he had encountered long ago in his youth, and it had mocked him; deceived him to the detriment of all. What would happen to him if he was touched by that evil presence again? Would it recognize him? Would the veil he had endured over the years completely blind him and leave him foundering in the dark? What if the presence became so strong that none of them could move, even to flee?

  Elowyn had warned Glak of how she’d been affected on the cliff top, but she had not told him how she’d broken free. She wasn’t even sure herself. She had examined the coin many times since that day, wondering if her mind had only been playing tricks on her. Its cold, smooth surface and strange markings remained as silent and closed as Glak was on this day. Perhaps it was only an ordinary coin after all. Or perhaps it, too, was holding back secrets it did not want to tell.

  By nightfall they had traveled most of the way to the valley. An hour’s journey in the morning would bring them to the crossroads where the wisps had blocked Elowyn’s way. It did not take the men long to make camp—they had done so many times before, and each man knew what was expected without any direction needed. They took care of the tired horses, started fires, prepared meals, and arranged places for sleeping, all in a well-practiced silence. When Glak finally spoke in a low tone, it was only to tell Elowyn that this would be the end of her journey with them. In the morning she must ride back to Minhaven alone, as he had promised Morganne that she would.

  And Elowyn had good intentions to follow Glak’s command. In the morning her horse was saddled and supplied with the few things she would need for the return journey. Glak made sure that she knew how to use a boulder or fallen tree to boost herself onto the horse’s back without assistance, then sent her on her way.

  But as the distance grew between them, Elowyn began to wonder if she should turn back. Not to join the battle—certainly she was ill equipped to do that—but to watch from the cliff top. It was a ridiculous thought, of course. What could she possibly do, besides get herself killed, or even worse, dragged off to some unspeakable place as Nevon had been? Guilt needled her without mercy. She should have told Glak about the coin, but then he might have wanted to take it from her, and for some reason that thought had stopped her cold. Why? She did not know. Surely Glak’s life, and those of all the Kinship, were worth far more than this strange but otherwise worthless object she had pilfered from a stream. More than once she had been willing to throw it back.

  “What is wrong with me?” Elowyn whispered quietly to the horse plodding along beneath her, oblivious to her internal struggle. She couldn’t stand the thought of giving the coin to another person, even to Glak. Something inside her was crying out, no, no, no...it doesn’t belong to him...not to any of them. They can’t have it! Morganne had told her at the shrine in Evensong that Aviad would one day call on her to release the coin. Well, that day was not today, she was sure of it.

  And yet, what if the Kinship needed its light to break them free of the dark presence, just as she had needed it? What kind of guilt would she bear for the rest of her days if they all perished, and she was left to wonder if the coin could have saved them? Not that she was even sure herself of what had happened to her on the cliff top. For all she knew, the bright light could have been merely a reflection of the wisps, and they were not likely to appear before the Kinship. Either way, she realized that she had to go back. She would linger quietly behind, and take the ascending path once they had all passed the crossroads.

  Elowyn grasped the reins and pulled back tightly for a moment, bringing her horse to a halt. He flung his head in what have might been a gesture of surprise, maybe even annoyance. He knew what he was supposed to do, even if his young rider didn’t. He snorted and began to walk forward again, but Elowyn jerked the reins back, more forcefully this time.

  “We’re not going back, not just yet,” she said, hoping he would somehow understand. She tried to make him turn, but the beast protested and stamped his foot, turning back in the direction of Minhaven.

  Elowyn pulled the reins hard to the left to turn him around, trying to exude confidence, as if she had even basic mastery over the massive creature whose duty it was to ferry her home. “I have to go back,” she told him, “with or without you.” The horse pawed the ground in protest at first, but finally complied, plodding along with a guilty reluctance, as if he knew he was acting contrary to his master’s wishes.

  Elowyn rode at a slow steady pace until she eventually reached the crossroads. There was no sign of Glak or the Kinship, but she was sure they would have passed by already. So she started the climb upward, riding the horse until it became too steep and uneven for him to go any further. She tied him securely to a tree, and continued on foot to the very top, just as she had before. Quietly, cautiously, she peered over the edge. The beasts were still there, though not as many as the day when the shrine had been brought back to life.

  There was no sign of the cloaked figure, who Morganne had told her was probably a necromancer. Nor did Elowyn sense the heavy dark presence, much to her relief. Maybe the Kinship had a chance after all. But where were they? The longer she waited the more anxious she became. She had just about decided to turn and go back when she heard something that sounded like building thunder, and then on top of that, a chorus of powerful, gut-wrenching cries that made her heart race and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The Kinship came bursting out into the valley with a force and speed that shocked her, and took the beasts by surprise as well. They barely had time to lift their shields when the full force of Glak and his men rained down upon them. Within moments the valley was littered with slain beasts, and it looked as though the Kinship was going to enjoy a quick victory.

  But before they had completely cleared the valley, the lifeless heaps on the ground started to move. Their forehead markings began to glow as they rose, first to their knees, then once more to their feet. They picked up their weapons and shields and rejoined the battle as though nothing had happened. No matter how many times the Kinship knocked them down, the beasts rose up again. There was no need for the necromancer or the dark presence to be there; the shrine was guarded by an army that could not be defeated. Elowyn looked inside her pouch, and was somewhat disappointed to di
scover that the coin had remained unchanged, and there was not a single wisp in sight. No matter what happened now, there was nothing she could do to help.

  Glak and the Kinship continued to fight with everything they had. The clash of metal against metal rose up from the valley along with guttural cries from both beasts and men. Orders were shouted over the din by Glak and the other Kinship leaders. Had Elowyn been schooled in military matters, she might have been impressed by how seamlessly the Kinship worked together; how fluid their movements were as they covered each other, how they used the terrain to their advantage, and stayed in control of the battle despite their small number.

  But watching anxiously from above, Elowyn saw only the chaos of two armies pounding on each other relentlessly. As Cailean had been warned the day he started his training, the enemy afforded them no time to rest, and there was no mercy. If any of the men dared to pause, a beast instantly moved in to exploit the moment of weakness.

  Elowyn’s stomach pulled into painful knots and her palms were damp with sweat. She could hardly bear it. What if one of the men got run through before her eyes? The beasts’ primitive blades and spears were cruel weapons, with jagged edges designed to inflict the most pain possible. Even worse, what if all of the Kinship fell? How could she ever live with that vision haunting her memory?

  The battle continued on for what seemed like an eternity, with neither side giving in or slowing their pace. Gradually, the Kinship began to lose ground. Even when the beasts were brought down, they only returned to battle with renewed vigor, pushing the men further away from the shrine. They fell back to protect their escape route. Surrounded on three sides by sheer mountain, if the beasts managed block the path leading out of the valley, there would be no hope left. Exhaustion would eventually overcome the men, and they would succumb to a brutal death. As Morganne had predicted, this battle was a hopeless one, but Glak was too capable of a commander to allow it to become a massacre. He finally signaled his men to retreat.