Dark One Rising

by Leandra Martin

  “No time for play, Lila, we have to go now.”

  She swung up into the saddle and snapped the reins. “Go girl.”

  They took off through the woods, heading west. She raced between the trees, zig-zagging around them. She was about a mile when she heard the echo of hoof beats behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw the three men chasing her. They were still a good way back but they were gaining fast. She had to make it to the river. She couldn’t understand how they had gained on her so quickly. She also prayed nothing had happened to Conor. She prodded her horse faster but realized she was weighed down too much with supplies. She had to make a decision, and fast. She decided she’d rather risk starvation and cold than the hand of Fallon. She took her knife from out of the bag that was tied to the pommel and cut through the ropes that held the other two bags to the saddle straps. They fell to the ground with a thump, and she watched as they rolled a ways, then stopped in the dirt. She prodded her horse again and picked up speed. She peered behind her again and found that they were still gaining on her.

  “Damn! I’ll never make it to the river with these guys on my tail.”

  She raced further ahead and saw a small glen up ahead to the right. When she reached it, she reined her horse and sharply turned, racing ahead through the meadow. If she remembered correctly, there was an outcropping of rocks which climbed up a few degrees and dropped down into the river. If she could get up a ways, there was a cave. She could hide out in there, then leave after they had passed. No, that wouldn’t work. If they were smart, they would figure it out, then she’d be trapped by the cliff and have nowhere to go. She continued on through the meadow then zipped her way through the trees again. The forest was getting denser the further in she got. If she went in too deep, she’d have to slow her pace in fear of running right into the bole of a tree and knocking herself off her horse, or worse, blacking out and falling right into their hands. They weren’t going to get her without a fight. She continued on her pace, hoping if she zagged enough, they would lose her trail, or be confused and have to split up. She rode as fast as she dared, hoping no surprises jumped out at her. The trees here were so dense, she could hardly see the sun (not that the clouds allowed her to before), but it was dark in here, and colder. She pulled her cloak tighter, her hood covering her head, and hunkered closer to her saddle, using the heat that emanated off her horses skin for warmth. She rode on, peering behind her every few minutes to see if she was still being followed. There was another outcropping of rocks ahead of her, and she looked from one side to the other for a way up. She didn’t remember a cliff face this far over, but here it was just the same. She cursed under her breath. Not good. It seemed as though she would be trapped anyway. Well, she thought, she had to get to the river somehow so she could cross it. Maybe from the height, she’d be able to see another way down. She prodded her horse forward, the outcropping looming over her, higher and higher the closer she got. She spotted what looked like the likeliest trail she was going to find and headed in that direction. When she reached it, she tried her best to get her horse to go up, but she kept rearing her head and snorting. The horse was frightened. The only way she was going to get up there was to get off of her and lead her up. She slid from the saddle and tossed the reins over the horses head. She grabbed them and started to pull. The horse wouldn’t budge. She pulled again, the horse snorting and stamping her feet. Melenthia looked around her and could see the men, a ways off still, but not for long. She had to start climbing. She nuzzled her horse and cooed.

  “Come on, Lila. I promise I won’t let you fall, girl, but we have to go.”

  She rubbed the horse’s nose and tried again to get her to move. She slowly started forward, testing her hooves on the rocks. A few loose stones slid underneath, and that was enough for Lila. She reared again and almost knocked Melenthia off her feet. She looked up the cliff face and decided there was no way a horse could go up that anyway. There were several spots where it was straight up with nothing but scree and scrub to hold on to.

  “You’re right, Lila. I understand. I guess I go alone.”

  She led the horse backward a bit, into a small copse of trees this side of the meadow to keep her hidden. She tied her reins to one of the smaller trees and untied her remaining bag from the pommel. She flung it crossways over her back and rubbed Lila’s nose again.

  “I’ll come back for you, girl.”

  She could hear the sword calling to her as if warning her not to leave it behind, but she shook the feeling off. Climbing with a sword on her hip would be difficult. “I will come back for you,” she promised in her mind. The sword must have believed her because it hummed no more.

  Melenthia trudged to the outcropping and looked up. She swallowed. It was high. Maybe they wouldn’t follow her up. “Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll believe it. Up we go.”

  She started the climb up the outcropping. Some of it was easy, but at times she could barely find a flat enough spot to put her feet, and the loose rocks and dirt constantly kicked up dust that got in her eyes. She slid back a couple of times, moved forward a couple more. It was slow going, but she was halfway up when she heard the echo of her horse’s nickers below her. She looked down and saw the men below and frowned. She wondered if they were going to climb or try to come up on horse back. The leader started forward on his horse, the other two reluctantly following. I guess that answers that, she thought. She picked up the pace and climbed higher, faster. She could see the top from where she was and didn’t want to look down unless she absolutely had to. It was a long way down, and the altitude made her a bit dizzy. She continued forward, the cliff getting shearer as she got closer to the top. The three men were gaining on her more than they had on flat ground, and they were almost on top of her. She cursed again. She reached for a handhold, a root in the rock face. She pulled herself upward, using the root for security. Her foot slipped, and she gripped the root tighter. She hung like that for a couple of minutes then tried again to get a foothold. Her foot slipped again. The men were only a le-vel below her. She tried again to find a foothold. She found a semi-level spot and pushed her boot into the crevice stabilizing herself. She pushed with her leg and was able to move upward. She grabbed another root and pushed some more, her foot balancing on the previous root she had grabbed a few moments before. There was a small tree growing out of the side of the outcropping. She grabbed a hold of it to pull herself the last few feet. The tree started to bend; she hoped that it would hold her weight. She pulled and the tree creaked a bit, but held. She scrambled up and over and lay on the top for a quick moment to catch her breath. She stood up again and ran to the other side of the cliff. She looked down, the dizziness coming back. She breathed deep. She had to find a way down. She looked from side to side and saw a small trail that led down the far side. She headed that way, and as she was reaching it, one of the horsemen popped his head over the edge. She was startled. How did they get their horses up the shear face of the outcropping? She ran to the trail now, afraid that she would be caught if she did not get moving. She approached the trail and looked down. It wasn’t much of a trail, really, just dirt and rocks winding down the side, but there was a landing some feet below, where she could rest a moment and assess her next move. She started down the rock face, her feet slipping and sliding under her. She squatted and slid down on her behind, the dust and dirt choking her. She coughed but kept on. She risked a quick look up and saw the men climbing down after her. The third man, the leader, who was now climbing behind the other two, looked down at her. His hood was tight on his head, but she could see red eyes looking down at her. She shivered, feeling a chill all the way to her very soul. She was all of a sudden more frightened than she had been in the last two days. She slid further. She was almost to the landing. From there she didn’t know what she’d do, but she needed to figure it out soon. The two men were gaining in speed, sliding down behind her, kicking up more dust, which stung her eyes and coated her mouth. She finally reach
ed the landing, jumping down onto it and almost going right over it with the impetus of her jump. She flattened herself up against the cliff wall, breathing hard, calming her racing heartbeat. She stole forward a bit to look down the side. She was about a half mile up from the raging river below. That river was her escape, because over that was the province of Isamar. If these guys caught up to her, she’d never get away. She looked up. One of the men was scrambling down toward her. He lost his footing and started to fall down to the landing. He hit the flat spot, rolled with the momentum toward the edge. He grabbed her bag’s strap to catch himself and pulled her off her feet. She slid with him toward the edge. If she didn’t loosen it from around her, she would end up going over the cliff with him. She tried to find a foothold as she slid closer and closer to the edge. She wiggled and twisted, finally getting the strap over her head and letting it go. The man kept going and disappeared over the edge, screaming on the way down. She scrambled backwards, panting. She flattened herself against the wall again, then heard a voice.

  “There’s nowhere for you to go, Princess. If you fight us, you will end up going over the side just as he did. We don’t want that and neither do you. Come up, and I promise we won’t hurt you.”

  “Then what?” she answered back, not for once believing anything he said, just trying to buy some time in order to decide what to do.

  “Then we will take you back to your fiancé who is waiting for your return. He’s worried about you.”

  She peeked over the side again. It was steep, but there was another landing quite a few feet below, and from there, she’d be closer to the water. She could jump without hurting herself. She looked down at the raging, cold water. She was an excellent swimmer, but the water was fast and strong, and the cold would probably stiffen her joints so much she wouldn’t be able to move them. She didn’t care. She’d rather take her chances with the river than with Fallon, or that guy. When she looked at him, she felt like he was looking straight through her. She felt violated. She shook away the fear and swallowed it back. Courage.

  “I’ll bet he is. Why don’t you tell him that you lost me over the cliff and be done with it.”

  “I have been enlisted to find you and bring you home safely. I cannot go back empty handed.”

  “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but he’ll have to keep waiting and worrying.”

  She started to clamber down the side of the cliff, this one much steeper and more treacherous than the one above. She slid on her bottom again, trying not to build up too much speed where she wouldn’t be able to stop. The dust was flying, and the loose scree was sliding down the cliff face and falling over the edge to the water below. She was close enough now that she could hear the roar of the water making it’s way southward. She finally reached the landing and grabbed a hold of another root, stopping herself in mid-fall. She let go and slowly fell to the level spot. The other two men were sliding down behind her and soon would be upon her. She looked over the edge and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the long fall. She removed her cloak; the loose material would surely wrap her up, and she would drown. She looked up at the remaining two men again and smiled.

  “There’s nowhere for you to go, Princess. Come back up here; my promise still stands,” the man with the red eyes said.

  His voice was the same but the tone was different. It had a lisp to it now, almost as if he were hissing out his words.

  “I’d rather take my chances with the water.”

  “The cold of it will kill you. You’ll die before you could ever swim to shore.”

  “But at least I died on my own terms, by my own choice, not by his.”

  She was still building up her courage, when the man-at-arms fell from above and landed behind her on the perch. She turned quickly and looked at him. He smiled at her.

  “There’s nowhere to go but over. It’s a long drop.”

  She backed up and felt her heel reach the edge of the landing. She peered quickly over her shoulder and looked down. She had to make sure she jumped out far enough or she’d kill herself on the rocks below. She smiled back at him and turned from him, jumping out and over the cliff. He tried to grab her as she went, but could not get a hold of her. She braced herself for the impact, took a deep breath in, and hit the water, hard.

  The man looked down as she fell into the water, making a splash that reached high in the air. He turned and looked over at Jaron, who was frowning at him.

  “Are you going to go after her?” the man asked Jaron.

  Jaron stared at the other man, and the eyes behind the hood grew brighter. He lifted his arm and held his scaly black hand palm side out to the man. “No, but you are.”

  A surge of energy emitted from out of his hand and struck the man on the chest. His body flew backward and over the side of the cliff, falling to the rocks below. Jaron looked out over the river then turned and climbed up the cliff, back to his horse waiting at the top.

  ***

  Melenthia felt her body racing down the river and tried getting air into her lungs, but the water was pulling on her. Her head bobbed up and down as she struggled to keep her face above the water. Her limbs were cold, almost numb, and she was getting stiff fast. She moved her arms as best she could, trying to make progress toward the shore. She kicked her feet when she could, but the powerful water made moving fluidly almost impossible. She gasped again when her head rose above the rapids and brought air into her aching lungs. She had to get to shore or she’d travel so far down river she’d never figure out where she was. She looked up to the cliff behind her; the men were gone. Somewhere in the raging swirling water, a body was floating. She hoped she didn’t see it. She flapped her arms some more, trying to move, trying to keep the feeling from leaving them completely. If her limbs froze up totally, she’d become a human log in this large, long river. She went under again, and the water swirled around her, choking her and flipping her over. She struggled to right herself but hit her head on a rock. The sharp pain seared through her head, and she wanted to cry, but if she opened her mouth even a little bit, she would take in too much water. She felt dizzy and nauseous, but she refused to pass out. She kicked her legs, and her head popped up out of the water. She gasped for air. A trickle of something thick ran in her eye, and she looked at the water, now red with her blood.

  She spotted a sandy expanse of shoreline and fought to get close enough to reach it. She kicked her feet and moved her arms, every move hurting her aching limbs. She inched closer until she was able to grab a hold of a branch that was broken on a small tree hanging over the water. She snagged it with her left hand, the rest of her body moving with the water downstream. She held on tight trying to pull her legs back enough to move herself to the edge of the water. She grabbed the branch with her other hand now and heaved. She swung around and got one foot on the sandy berm, then dragged the rest of her body, willing it to do the same. She had both feet on the sand, and, with one hand still holding the branch, she swung as hard as she could and flopped her numb body onto the sandy shore. When she was sure she was secure, she let go of the branch, lying back on the sand panting, her heart racing, head throbbing with every beat.

  She reached a shaky hand to her head and touched the tender spot, her hand coming away with blood which ran down her fingers. She tried to sit up, but she reeled and dry heaved. She had to move into the woods and keep hidden. She didn’t know what happened to the men, but if they were still looking for her, staying out in the open would not be a good idea. She crawled into the brush, just enough to keep her hidden from the other side of the bank, or from the cliff, and lay back down to stop her head from spinning. She breathed in and out and did her best to keep from shaking. She was cold, and her head needed attention. If she bled too much she would surely pass out from loss of it. She needed to get somewhere and deal with her head, get fresh supplies and sleep.

  She rose slowly to her feet and trudged into the woods, her body shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. She felt another trail
of blood run down her head and drip into her eyes. She had to try and stanch the bleeding somehow. She tried to tear a strip of fabric from her shirt, but, because it was wet, it was too springy to tear. She realized then that her sword was still strapped under her horse, and her knife had been in her pack, which was now lost to the river.

  “Damn it!”

  She had been too busy trying to get away, she never went back for the sword. She had to go back for it. She would, but one thing at a time; the bleeding wound was the first priority. She would have to improvise. She hoped the men didn’t bother with her horse and leave her to walk across the leagues of desert sands on foot.

  She looked around for a rock. She found a medium sized one and leaned over and picked it up. When she rose again, she reeled and fell over. She sat up and hit the rock on another larger one. The rock broke in half, leaving a jagged edge on it. She took off her shirt and laid it out on the large rock, using the rough edge of the other one to saw away at the material. It took a long time to get a long enough piece, but eventually she had a strip long enough to tie around her head to keep the bleeding contained. She hoped it would clot after a bit, long enough to at least get somewhere safer to give it a good cleaning and a proper dressing. She tied it around her head, tight so it wouldn’t come loose, then put what was left of her shirt back on, shivering as she did so. She plodded along through the woods, the feeling starting to come into her limbs again, and now they ached. She felt as if she had been beaten to a pulp, every inch of her was sore, and, probably in a day, would be one big bruise. She continued on, wishing she hadn’t left her horse behind, or her sword. Wishing she had her bag with clean clothes at least. Wishing for a lot of things that might never again be was a waste of energy. She was out here alone, bleeding and hungry, because her father chose Fallon over his only daughter. She started to cry. She knew it was the pain and cold and the fact that she was so very tired, but it maddened her to be doing so anyway. She slapped the tears away. She was not weak, but she was human. She looked up to the sky, her cheeks wet, although with her hair still dripping, she couldn’t be sure if the wetness on her face was tears or river water. The sun was three quarters of the way across the sky now, making it late afternoon. Had she really been gone from Garreth’s that long? She shivered again. Even though the skies had cleared for the time being and the sun was out, it was still cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them, trying to warm herself. She came to a trail in the woods, a definite cleared away path that wound through the trees. She hoped that it led to a town, or a village, or even a house. She was thirsty, too. She cursed herself for not drinking some water from the river before she headed out. She had had so much water get into her lungs that drinking was not on the agenda at the time. Now she felt parched all of a sudden. She would’ve squeezed some water out of her shirt if it wasn’t filthy, so, doing her best to make saliva in her mouth to at least wet it, she continued on.