Equilibrium: Episode 4

by CS Sealey

  Rasmus weaved his way through the tents toward the outskirts of the camp where the horses were tethered. He stroked the neck of his own horse briefly before continuing on. The influence of the Tareks who had joined them at the border several months ago, led by Prince Korrosus, was showing. They were deeply involved in building stronger defenses for the Ronnesians and applying their carpentry skills to housing as well. It was strange that the Ronnesians had never built a permanent barracks for their soldiers; in a few more weeks, it would be complete and then they could get started on the stables. Other groups of skilled workmen had been summoned from Calormen and Reison, and the southern shallows of the Divide were now lined with posts to prevent vessels bearing invaders from coming ashore. The previous afternoon, a great crack and explosion of white smoke had signaled the arrival of Emil and Tiderius. Rasmus had received his brother with great enthusiasm, for his visits were rare. However, the moment Rasmus had seen the expression on Tiderius’s face, he had known that something was terribly wrong.

  Angora had fallen into this very river, and the waters of the tributaries further up were treacherous and unforgiving. She had either been killed instantly by whichever spell had hit her, drowned in the rapids, or died instantly upon hitting the rocks, Tiderius had said. Regardless, the river had consumed her body in its white jaws and quashed her brilliant fire. She had been only a couple of months shy of twenty.

  Upon hearing his brother’s tale of the wedding, Rasmus had attempted to leave the encampment and swim across the Divide, his sword in his hand and revenge in his heart. But Cassios and two of his battalion had managed to restrain him. Weeping uncontrollably, he had let himself be dragged back to his tent and given a draft of something strong to send him to sleep. After Tiderius had returned to Te’Roek, the men had remained vigilant for several hours to make sure Rasmus did nothing stupid to either himself or anyone else. He walked over to a small copse along the bank of the river, sat underneath the wide boughs and looked up at the stars through the canopy of fresh spring leaves. Clouds were rolling in from the west with a storm following close behind, blotting out the stars one by one. A sudden flash appeared upon the horizon, breaking the calm, and he heard the distant rumble of thunder. Sitting under that tree reminded him of being in the castle courtyard and, unwillingly, he started to remember all the times that Angora had come to meet him there. He had seen her several times a week whenever he had been stationed in Te’Roek, but they had sometimes gone months without seeing each other. He took some pleasure in the memories and found himself smiling sadly.

  By the time he eventually stood up and began to make his way back to camp, it had grown colder and darker with the coming storm. A few droplets of rain hit his cheeks and he turned his face to the sky, feeling a deep ache in his heart. There was a bird circling high above him. He could just make out its shadowy shape against the storm clouds. He found it incredible that a predator would choose this moment to hunt and that it could see anything through the gloom. He drew his eyes away from the bird to watch a branch of forked lightning tear across the sky to the north, followed by a resounding rumble. Not wanting to be stranded during a thunderstorm, he quickened his pace. He glanced skyward again, but the bird appeared to have moved on.

  Then something grabbed him tightly around the middle and lifted him into the air. With a terrified shout, he saw the ground quickly disappearing below his feet. The wind was whistling in his ears so loudly that he almost did not hear the great thuds of two giant wings carrying them ever higher. With a sense of growing dread and fright, he craned his neck around and looked up at the thing that had caught him.

  He had never seen such a large creature in all his life. He was familiar with whales and everyone who had grown up in Nortica had heard the tale of the giant squid that had washed up on the beach during his grandfather’s youth. This great eagle was larger than any predator deserved to be. In the dark, its eyes seemed to shine bright blue, but its feathers were pitch black and glistened with rain. The talons were frighteningly large and sharp but were thankfully not piercing him. The wingspan of the eagle was no less than the length of an average trading vessel, making Rasmus feel very small and vulnerable.

  He saw the pinpricks of light from the encampment as he glanced back but the darkness quickly swallowed them up. The ground below him now was almost featureless but for the shining line of the Great River Divide. The eagle seemed to be following the river to the east, using it as a guide.

  “After over ten years in the military, who would’ve thought I’d be eaten by a giant eagle?” Rasmus said aloud with a touch of hysteria. “But I’m not going down without a fight, you hear me?”

  The eagle clicked its beak and continued to fly east.

  “The moment you land somewhere, I’m going to leg it!” Rasmus shouted. “Not so fast on the ground as you are in the air, I bet! Can’t swim either!”

  The bird uttered a quick screech, much like a sound of reproach, turning its head slightly in his direction. Rasmus had the strangest feeling it was trying to communicate with him. His brow furrowed. He had no doubt now that this creature’s intelligence was superior to that of a normal eagle.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying? Are you, uh, going to eat me?”

  The eagle screeched once more, this time with an ear-piercing quality that made Rasmus cringe.

  “Gods, I hope that was a no.”

  The wind was cold and blowing stronger than he had ever felt it; they must have been traveling incredibly fast. Time became a blur as they soared eastward but, eventually, the eagle began to descend. They crossed the river and began to glide smoothly only a few yards above the bank. Rasmus tried to free himself from the eagle’s grasp, realizing that this could be his only chance to escape, but the beast held him firm.

  The eagle swerved out over the river once more and dived. For a moment, all Rasmus could hear was water roaring in his ears. He was below the surface for merely a second but it was long enough to soak him to the skin and fill his open mouth with water. The eagle began to rise again, both its legs dripping, a miserable Rasmus spluttering and coughing.

  “Thanks!” he shouted once his coughing had subsided. “I really needed that! Nothing like a good bath when you’ve been abducted by an eagle! And what was that anyway? I didn’t know birds cared about whether or not their food was clean!”

  The bird definitely seemed to understand his jest and uttered an angry-sounding squawk. It was only then that Rasmus noticed the eagle’s other foot was now grasping something as well. It looked like a branch but it was perfectly straight, like some kind of walking stick. After rubbing water out of his eyes, he studied it more closely and realized that the surface of this stick was intricately carved. It seemed almost to shimmer in the darkness, as though reflecting a source of light that he could not see.

  “Angora’s staff!” he cried. He reached over and brushed the wooden weapon with the tips of his fingers. He could feel its power emanating through his skin like pins and needles.

  “How did you know where it was?” he shouted up at the eagle. “What do you know of Angora? Have you found her body?”

  The storm was advancing and a great rumble of thunder exploded above Rasmus’s head but he hardly noticed. The eagle clicked its beak again, lifted upon a breeze and continued to follow the line of the river. To the north, Rasmus could just make out the pointed peaks of the Boundary Ranges in the pale moonlight following the storm front. Then he noticed the river turning north where it widened into a natural lake. The eagle tilted slightly and continued to follow the Divide upriver.

  When they had left the lake far behind them, Rasmus felt the mysterious creature begin its descent for a second time. This time, instead of gliding across the surface of the water, it reared up and dropped Rasmus on the bank. His feet hit the damp earth and his legs collapsed beneath his weight. He fell onto his hands and knees and looked up as the great beast flapped its wings once, twice, then landed atop a collection of rocks a little
distance from the river.

  He slowly regained his feet and looked around, realizing that, for the first time in his life, he was in Leith. This was enemy territory. However, he could see no glows from campfires. The only real threat was the bird itself, but it had made no move to eat him and it was still grasping Angora’s staff.

  “Why have you brought me here?” Rasmus asked, glancing around.

  The eagle spread its wings and, for a frightening moment, Rasmus thought it was going to strike. However, it leaped from one rock to another and then a third before closing its wings and bending its head. Slowly and cautiously, Rasmus weaved his way through the rocks toward where the eagle was indicating. At first, all he could see was damp earth and tufts of grass, but then he spotted something else – a crumpled white shape lodged between the rocks.

  He stood there for a moment in stunned silence, staring at Angora’s body, but then his knees began to tremble and he released a violent sob. He dashed over to the figure and fell to his knees.

  A flash of lightning revealed that her wedding dress was severely torn and stained by the river. There were the unmistakable signs of old blood upon it, as well as mud. Her hair was lying across the rocks and silt, tangled but long and dark as ever. Her arms were bruised and scratched, as were her bare feet and what he could see of her legs. He put off looking at her face for a long time, for he did not want to see her lifeless features, swollen and bruised as they would be.

  “Angora…” he whispered, reaching for the hand that lay motionless across her middle. “It’s all right. I’m here to take you home.” Rasmus held the cold hand and cried unashamedly, spilling hot tears down his cheeks. The eagle stood above them like a dark statue, mourning its fallen mistress.

  “How can you still be alive,” he asked the eagle, his voice trembling, “when she lies here dead?”

  The bird inclined its head toward Angora’s body and gestured slightly. Rasmus turned back and looked down at her hand with an expression of confusion. No, he could not be imagining it. Beneath the cold and bruised skin was warmth. He pressed his fingers to her wrist. There was a pulse.

  “Angora?” Rasmus asked urgently, leaning forward now, anxious to see her face. It was not swollen nor was it lifeless, though several bruises did mar her beautiful features. “Angora, can you hear me?”

  “You found someone,” said Angora quietly, through pale, cracked lips. “Thank you.”

  The bird bowed its head in response.

  “Angora?” Rasmus cried. “Can you hear me?”

  “Rasmus?” Angora said quietly, moving her fingers slightly. “He fetched you?” She sounded a little confused but then sighed. “No, of course. Of course, he would have gone to you.”

  “Yes! Yes, it’s me!” he cried, putting his hand gently behind her neck and lifting her head. “You’ll be all right. You’re safe now.”

  “I feel…so weak,” she said, her eyelids flickering. “Where are we?”

  “Somewhere along the Divide,” Rasmus replied. “Are you hurt?”

  “I cannot feel anything at all,” Angora said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I cannot remember how I got here or how long it has been. When I woke, my haladrai was standing guard over me. His thoughts are mine, so he went in search of help and found you. It is some wonder he is still alive…I cannot explain that.”

  “Don’t worry about anything now,” Rasmus said, stroking her hair. “I’ll get you back to the camp and then the healers can see to you.” He grinned and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you alive!”

  Angora smiled weakly, tightening her fingers slightly upon his own, then she closed her dark eyes once more.

  *

  The journey back to the encampment seemed to take forever. The eagle was flying with more caution now that its mistress was with them. Rasmus wondered whether it could sense that its life was tied to hers, or whether it even had the capacity to think like that. He held on tightly to Angora, pressing her against his chest with one arm and desperately clinging to the eagle’s neck with the other. Angora’s staff was securely fastened to his belt.

  Somehow, he managed to keep them both on the eagle’s back and it came as an enormous relief when the bird set them down just out of sight of the camp. They had made two brief stops on the way back but, even so, Rasmus’s arms burned with exertion. Once they were safely on the ground, as though knowing that its duty was fulfilled, the eagle dispersed into thousands of tiny blue particles that shimmered briefly before gliding back into the tip of the staff.

  Inside the gates of the camp, Rasmus headed straight for the healing tents with Angora held tightly in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.

  She stayed in bed for almost two weeks, drifting in and out of consciousness for the first couple of days. It was almost a week before she was strong enough to sit up and talk. Rasmus visited her several times a day, almost as though he had to continually convince himself that he had not imagined it all.

  “Please, Rasmus,” she said the first time she woke, “do not send any messages about me being here, not to anyone.”

  “But, surely, everyone would like to know you’re alive! Why can’t I – ”

  “Please,” she whispered, “send no messages. I will let them know myself, but only when I am strong enough.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She paused and took in a shaky breath, wincing a little in pain. “Just promise me, Rasmus.”

  “I don’t understand but – all right, I promise.”

  On the fifteenth day, Rasmus helped her stand. Both her feet were still bandaged, covering the deep wounds caused by rocks in the ravine. Though Angora cringed with every step, her confidence grew and she was soon walking unaided. Most of her bruises had faded and the many cuts and scratches she had received were healed.

  When Rasmus asked her how she had managed to survive a fall that should have killed her, she could only give him guesses.

  “I had two summoned creatures in the sky at that time,” she recalled. “As I said before, our minds are linked. I don’t have to command my creatures to do my will, they already know it. One of them must have caught me and cushioned my fall.”

  “I don’t want to judge,” Rasmus began, then paused. He looked down at her with sad eyes. “Why in the world did you think marrying King Samian was a good idea? Were you forced into it? Tiderius is under that impression. He said that was why you didn’t leave with them, but I know well enough that, once you’ve set your mind to something, hardly anybody can stop you.”

  “Yes, I had made up my mind. I wanted to marry him.” Angora sighed and averted her eyes. “You would not understand, Rasmus. You are Ronnesian. The Ayons are the enemy and always will be.”

  “Tiderius said you agreed to marry him because of some agreement the king made to protect Teronia.”

  “Not just Teronia, Rasmus. All the islands,” Angora explained. “I expect Tiderius told you about Vrór’s attack on the castle?”

  Rasmus nodded.

  “I lured him away from the city and we battled in the skies, but he was too strong. He defeated me but instead of allowing me to die, he took me back to Delseroy. I fully expected to be executed but the king offered me a full pardon in exchange for my hand.”

  “Then you were forced into this!” Rasmus exclaimed angrily. “You had no choice! It was either life with him or death!”

  “It was not as simple as that,” Angora insisted. “I wanted to help the islands. I wanted to marry him.”

  “And you did,” he said sadly. “I can’t believe it. Still, you don’t have to go back to them, not now that you’re free.”

  *

  When the healers finally deemed her well enough to leave, Rasmus walked with her past the encampment outposts and then turned to face her. She was holding his hand, the one with the two missing fingers, and did not seem fazed in the least.

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough to do this?” Rasmus asked. �
�I could lend you my horse.”

  “I doubt Commander Tiron would allow that,” Angora said, smiling. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “Hey, what did I tell you? I have a weakness for damsels in distress!”

  She laughed. “Stay safe, Rasmus.”

  He leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “I will definitely try.”

  CHAPTER 40

  It was dark by the time she reached Delseroy but not so dark that she could not identify the shape of the city below. Pinpricks of firelight through hundreds of windows guided her in. She landed her eagle behind a scattering of trees on the plains before the city gates and sent it away with an appreciative nod. She had begun to walk toward the city before the sparks had completely disappeared into the staff head, her heart thumping hard and fast in her chest. She reached the city gates only just in time to enter before the guards closed the heavy gates for the night.

  “Come along, come along!” one guard said, a little irritated. “We haven’t got all night.”

  Angora hurried inside, heard the gates clang shut behind her, and then took a deep breath. The smell of the lower city was different to that of Te’Roek’s poorest district. Perhaps it was the smell of the Boundary Ranges, the pine forest that covered the peaks up to the snow line or the flower gardens that bordered the main street, hiding the smell of poverty. The streets were wide and the houses, though still forming tight lines on either side of the street, had more alleys, which allowed air to do what it could to circulate and disperse the stench of the filth thrown from the windows.

  The lamps had been lit in all the main streets and people walked leisurely, the working hours of the day having ended. Some walked arm in arm, others laughed and fooled around. There was life burning in the eyes of Delseroy’s citizens and happiness crackling from their bursts of laughter. This was a city that was proud of itself. Yet, behind this face was a definite sadness. She was quick to notice the black banners hanging from the roofs of the taverns, inns and workhouses. Each city guard she passed was wearing a black armband. She realized they were mourning the queen they had loved but never seen.