by J D Abbas
“I-I’m sure they will arrive s-safely.”
“I hope so. I also want to hear from Celdorn’s own lips that my father is truly dead and will trouble me no more.”
“D-do you d-doubt?”
“Yes. We were told he was dead once before. I want to know that Celdorn saw him die and buried him or burned him so that he can’t rise up. I want to know it’s finished. Perhaps when he’s gone the others will leave me alone as well.”
Braiden nodded, though his expression said he didn’t believe that any more than she did. They were both quiet for a time.
“Do you have family, Braiden?” Elena asked, startling him.
“Y-yes, I have a m-mother and four s-siblings living near Queyon.”
“No father?”
“M-my mother is married, b-but he’s not my father, though he is the father of m-my siblings.”
“What happened to your father?”
Braiden picked up the metal poker and shoved at the logs in the fire. “H-he’s a mystery. M-my mother w-won’t speak of him. N-no one else s-seems to know anything about him.” He twisted the poker in his hands. “I-I-I suspect she wasn’t w-with him b-by choice. Wh-whenever I ask her about him, I-I sense great shame and fear.”
“Don’t you accept her husband as your father?”
“H-he doesn’t accept m-me.” Braiden stared at the fire, and Elena felt intense pain grip him. “I-I knew when I was of age, I-I would train as a G-guardian. I had watched C-Celdorn with his men, and I-I longed to be a p-part of that. I-in truth, I-I was likely s-searching for a f-father in him.”
Elena smiled. “He’s a good man for that.”
“He’s been k-kind to m-me. I’m the m-man I am today b-because of his b-belief in me. H-he’s the one wh-who convinced me I w-would make a g-good healer and could s-serve the Guardians in that w-way. I-I owe him a great d-deal.” Braiden paused, and Elena noticed him wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I-I understand your f-fears about him n-not returning. Wh-when you spoke about the-the images from your dr-dream last night, a great s-sorrow consumed m-my heart. I desperately w-want you to be m-mistaken. It would b-be a grave wound to m-my soul to lose him, as I-I know it w-would to yours.”
“I pray I’m wrong too.”
Chapter 16
The morning came and passed as slowly as the night. Elena attempted to train with the men to distract herself but couldn’t focus. It made her a danger to herself and those that worked with her. Just before noon, one of the guards from the stair informed Haldor that a messenger had been sent ahead of Celdorn’s company to request they bring Elena to the bailey and prepare for his arrival.
As the six accompanied Elena and Sasha, who refused to be left behind, down the stairs and across the keep, Haldor reminded them of Celdorn’s warning. “The threat is not gone. We remain on alert even within our own keep.”
So they proceeded with Haldor in front of her, two on each side, and one behind Sasha and her, which Elena thought a bit ridiculous within the castle.
When they arrived at the entrance to the keep, there were many men already assembled outside to greet the returning company and assist with equipment.
Haldor led Elena and her guards through the main door. They paused under the archway outside the entrance, awaiting Celdorn’s arrival. Sasha sat next to Elena, bottom wriggling as if she sensed the excitement. From this vantage point they could clearly see the road and the rapid approach of the Guardians.
When the company reached the outer gate, Haldor led the small group into the bailey. Though she had never been allowed to venture out here, Elena had gazed at it many times from the upper windows. It seemed a brilliant expression of her fantasies. As the resilient wildflowers now caressed her feet, they seemed to enter into this moment of her joy, raising their petals to the sun, swaying rhythmically in the breeze, at one with her heart, which was full beyond measure.
Elena’s attention turned from the flowers to Celdorn and Elbrion. When they passed through the final gate and pulled ahead of the returning company, she broke free of her guard and raced across the field crying, “Ada!”
Sasha joined in her exhilaration, equally thrilled to romp across the field. The men behind her laughed as she raced toward her fathers.
Elena heard a buzz and felt something brush against her braid. She swatted at what she thought was a bee.
“Archers!” Celdorn shouted.
The tone of his word stopped Elena in her tracks, though Sasha trotted blissfully on. Elbrion had bow in hand and an arrow launched as soon as the word left Celdorn’s lips. She followed its path and saw a dozen bowmen atop the southern curtain wall.
Celdorn yelled “Elena, get down!” just as someone wrapped his arms around her and tackled her. A piercing pain tore through her upper arm, and she screamed. In seconds, the rest of her escort had surrounded them. She heard the others cry out, felt their pain in her body as arrows struck them. Sasha yelped and crawled toward her, nose to nose.
Haldor, the one who had tackled her, tried to climb to his knees, but an arrow pinned their arms together. Mikaelin grabbed the shaft and gave a sharp yank. White bursts of light exploded in her head, blinding her. Fabric ripped near her ear. Something wrapped around her upper arm and squeezed.
“That should hold it for now,” Haldor’s said with a gentle pat to her shoulder. When she looked up, Dalgo was wrapping a strip around Haldor’s bloody arm.
Elena rose to her hands and knees, stunned by the rapid change of events. Sasha whimpered and licked her shoulder as if wanting to help. Elena wrapped her uninjured arm around the dog’s neck and gave her a tight squeeze.
Elena’s gaze turned to Celdorn and Elbrion. Their attention was fixed on the southern wall. She braced herself on Sasha and had just started to rise when an arrow struck Elbrion directly in the heart and embedded there. The world lurched to a halt, and she let out an agonized shriek. Elena watched in horror as Elbrion fell from his stallion in slow motion, just as she had foreseen in her dream.
Her vision blurred. A meaningless cacophony pressed on her ears. Nothing made sense. An intense wave of pain washed over her. It blotted out the rest of the bailey and pulled her into its blackened depths.
But in grief’s wake, rage swelled. Elena sprang to her feet with a sudden, fierce energy. She slipped through the wall of her protectors and, with all her strength, charged toward the southern wall. “It’s me you want. Kill me!”
Sasha barked and soon was on her heels.
“Elena, no!” Mikaelin yelled from behind her.
“Stop her!” Silvandir called.
An arrow struck her right shoulder. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground. Sasha caught up to her, latched onto her shirt, and planted her paws. Elena tugged free of the dog’s grip and clambered to her feet. Sasha howled, and Elena screamed with rage as another arrow hit her thigh. Then another. Yet she plowed forward.
Mikaelin grabbed her from behind and turned her. In her madness, she twisted and pulled away from him, determined to make it to the wall. Then Silvandir gripped her waist with his massive hands and pulled her into his body, wrapping around her like a protective blanket. As they rotated, another arrow lodged in her hip. Something knocked into Silvandir and hurled the two of them forward. Silvandir curled, and they landed on their sides with a crunch that rattled Elena’s bones.
Silvandir scrambled to his feet and pulled her up in front of him, their backs to the archers. Mikaelin braced himself alongside Silvandir to shield Elena. As they yanked the arrows from her body, an Ilqazar approached. Silvandir tossed Elena into Celdorn’s waiting arms, and Zhalor sped off toward the castle.
Elena heard the thud of hooves skid to a halt behind them. A voice shouted, “Up, Silvandir. We need to get you to the keep.”
“Mikaelin!” The wail that burst from Silvandir sent chills through Elena. “Someone help him!”
Jolt after jolt pierced Elena’s body, as if she were being repeatedly stabbed. Someone else’s sensation. Not Mikael
in too. Please not Mikaelin.
Then only hoofbeats and the clamor of men.
“Elena, what were you thinking?” Celdorn embraced her as they rode toward the keep. “They would have destroyed you.”
“I don’t care, Ada. They killed him ...because of me,” she whispered through choked tears just before she lost consciousness.
~
Dahmid met Celdorn at the keep entrance.
“We got them all,” he said as Celdorn eased the girl into his arms. “There were ten archers. I don’t know how they were able to access the southern wall, but I’ll find answers for you.”
Celdorn dismounted and reached for Elena. He winced in pain as her weight shifted to his arms. “Thank you, Dahmid. Keep me updated.” He carried her into the fortress and up the stairs to his chamber. He knew the others would follow.
Celdorn laid her on his bed and ripped open her blood-soaked shirt to examine the wound on her shoulder. He lifted her and checked her back. The arrow hadn’t pierced through. The wound on her upper arm wasn’t deep. So, Haldor had taken the brunt of that blow. He pulled his belt knife and cut the leg of her trousers. She’d been struck twice in the right thigh. He rolled her. The lower of the two had torn completely through. A fifth wound was on her left hip, where an arrow had entered at an angle; the shaft had broken in all of the commotion, leaving the head imbedded in the fleshy part.
The other men arrived with much noise and shouting. Dalgo immediately came to Celdorn’s side.
“She was struck five times.”
“Braiden!” Dalgo called.
The young healer hurried over, wrapping his hand. The blood on his clothes indicated he’d been hit by three arrows. According to the elder healer, the one through Braiden’s left hand had unintentionally saved Dalgo’s back from a deathly blow.
“Before we waste time with stitches, see if you can heal these wounds directly,” Dalgo said.
Braiden took a few deep breaths then laid his uninjured hand next to the wound on Elena’s chest. He whispered in Elnar, and a shadow passed over his face. “I-I can’t heal these w-wounds. The arrows were t-tainted with some sort of d-dark potion. Th-the Jhadhela can’t r-reverse its effect.”
Celdorn’s chest tightened. “What can be done then?”
“W-we do the best we c-can to clean the wounds quickly b-before any more poison enters her b-body.” Braiden turned Elena over, pulled out his knife, and slit the skin covering the arrowhead embedded in her hip, not wasting the time to clean it first.
“G-get the alianthar,” he said to Dalgo. He pulled the head from the open skin and poured water into the gaping hole. When Dalgo returned, he handed the vial to Braiden, who sprinkled the medicine on the wound. It immediately started to bubble, and a foul smell rose as the alianthar did its cleansing work. Braiden placed a thick cloth over it and rolled Elena onto her back. He began washing the wound on her chest then glanced at Celdorn and Dalgo. “G-get more water and rinse the w-wounds on her leg and arm. Qui-quickly!”
Braiden called across the room, “All-all of you, c-clean your w-wounds immediately. The arrows were p-poisoned.” Then to Dalgo, “You’ll n-need to get the alianthar on them as soon as p-possible.”
“What about yours, Braiden?” the healer asked.
“I’ll t-tend them as soon as we’re d-done with Elena.”
“Do it now,” Celdorn snapped. The last thing he needed was a sick healer. “We can clean her wounds.”
Braiden startled, hurt bright in his eyes, but he stepped back with a nod and obeyed. Haldor assisted Braiden in tending to the injuries on the back of his legs.
Most of the men had injuries to their backsides from shielding Elena. Due to the poison, the wounds were excruciating. The men said it felt like the arrowheads had been lit with fire, one that continued to burn layer after layer of tissue.
Silvandir limped in, cursing at the pain. He’d been struck multiple times. One arrow grazed his neck and narrowly missed piercing it through.
Braiden returned to Elena. He laid his hand on her head and murmured some words. His hand moved back to her chest. “The t-tip of this arrow br-broke off,” he told Celdorn. “D-Dalgo, d-do you have y-your instruments with you?”
Dalgo tossed his satchel on the bed next to Elena.
There was a commotion at the door as four men carried in Mikaelin. He hung limply, a trail of blood in his wake. Haldor directed them to the antechamber.
“Dalgo! We need you in Elena’s room.” The distress in Tobil’s voice unnerved Celdorn.
“G-go ahead,” Braiden said. “I-I can m-manage this.”
More noise, more men in the corridor. This group bore Sasha between them. She was as limp as Mikaelin but left behind a bloodier trail. Tears blurred his vision.
“To Elbrion’s,” someone said, and the tumult moved on. Celdorn had seen enough battle injuries to know they would soon lose both Mikaelin and Sasha. The room swayed.
From a distance, he heard Braiden say something. Celdorn willed himself to swallow the pain and focus on his daughter. She might yet survive this. He had to believe that. He didn’t know if he could endure so many losses all at once.
Braiden chanted softly as he entered Elena’s chest wound, eyes closed, and let the Jhadhela lead the tool. He quickly made contact with the tip of the arrow, but removing it required effort. The malicious barbs carved into its head snagged on the tissue, shredding her flesh as he pulled it out. Braiden examined the tip to make certain no pieces were left behind. He cleaned the wound again and put the medicine in it. By then, Celdorn had finished with her other injuries.
“N-now I need t-to stitch the opening I-I created on her h-hip.” Braiden rolled Elena again. The bed was soaked with blood beneath the wound. Because the arrow had gone so far into the tissue and at such an odd angle, the wound was long and deep. Braiden decided to pack it and stitch just the surface of the opening. Celdorn nodded approvingly.
~
In spite of her unconscious state, Elena’s mind was still brutally active. Again and again, she watched Elbrion die. She frantically tried to reach him but was unable to move. Each time the image replayed itself, the pain in her heart grew more intense, slowly suffocating her.
Elena heard her father’s gloating laughter as Elbrion fell. “I’m not gone, just less visible. I will never allow you to have another father.”
Then, she was forced to watch Elbrion fall once more. Elena wailed as she lay paralyzed in the open field.
Chapter 17
When Braiden was nearly done stitching her hip, Elena began to wake. The healer placed his hand firmly on her back. “D-don’t m-move yet.”
Celdorn knelt next to the bed and put his face close to hers. “How are you, little one?”
Elena blinked. She tried to focus on him but her eyes crossed. Her brow scrunched and her gaze flitted away as if searching for something. When at last her eyes settled, tears formed. “I’m heartbroken, Ada,” she rasped and then swallowed convulsively. It took her some time before she could speak again. “When I watched Elbrion die, my heart fell with him.”
Celdorn pulled back, puzzled. “Elbrion didn’t die.”
“But...but I saw it.” Elena’s brow wrinkled again. “I-I watched the arrow strike him in the heart, and I saw him fall from Drendil.”
“An Elrodanar would never topple from an Ilqazar, little one,” Celdorn said with a smile. He lifted his head and caught Elbrion’s eye. “Elena needs to see you.”
In a moment, Elbrion knelt by her side, beaming down at her. Elena’s body jolted and her eyes went wide. “B-but I watched you fall ...” she whispered. “Just like in my dream.”
“I dismounted so as not to be such a large target. That is all, Sheyshon.” He took her hand between his and squeezed lightly.
“But I saw the arrow hit your heart and stay there.”
Elbrion nodded. “It embedded in the mail shirt I am wearing. It did not harm me at all.”
Elena erupted in tears, as if al
l the fear and pain of losing Elbrion released through her eyes. A lump formed in Celdorn’s throat as he watched them. He wondered how soon before he’d have to tell her of other losses.
Braiden laid his hand on Elena’s back. “I n-need you to breathe d-deeply and try to hold your b-body steady until I’m d-done.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“St-stop moving,” Braiden repeated more sternly. “I-I’m almost f-finished.”
“You were struck by several arrows, little one. He’s stitching the worst of the wounds on your hip. The others are near your shoulder, on your arm and two on your thigh.”
“I remember being struck by some of them.” She stared at the far wall as if trying to see the scenes. Her gaze returned to Celdorn. “Who else was injured?”
Celdorn’s throat closed off. He couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. Elbrion glanced at him then caressed the ridges from Elena’s forehead. “All were struck by at least one arrow, except for Celdorn and Dalgo, who managed to make it through unscathed.” Celdorn was glad he was giving her the truth a little at a time. She didn’t need more pain just now.
Soon Braiden was done, and Elena turned over. On her back, she noticed the blood-soaked bandages on Celdorn’s upper and lower arm for the first time. “Ada, you’re hurt!” She glared at Elbrion. “I thought you said he came through unscathed.”
“I wasn’t injured in the bailey. This is from the battle with Domar,” Celdorn explained.
Elena’s jaw hung slack. “Did his sword strike you there?” She pointed at his upper arm, hand shaking.
“Yes. Had it not been for my mail, the blow would most likely have severed my arm and opened my chest.”
Braiden’s head snapped up, and he and Elena shared a panicked glance.
Elena struggled to pull in a breath. “Th-that’s how it was in my dream. But you ...died.” Tears overwhelmed her again.
Celdorn pointed at his arm. “You dreamt of this?”