by J D Abbas
“Elena, while we are permitting you to again ride, you must also exercise caution and restraint as we proceed.” He matched his warning with a stern face, but when she smiled down at him, the corners of his mouth twitched.
She giggled, and Celdorn frowned.
“Elena, I’m serious.” He strengthened his tone. “If you experience any sharp pain in your hip or notice any bleeding, I need you to tell us immediately, so we can address it. We’ll stop frequently, so that you ...”
Elena wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on the north road. She imagined open fields of wildflowers where she was free to gallop, the wind flowing through her hair.
“Elena!” Celdorn snapped.
She jumped. Icy fear swept over her, and her smile faded.
Celdorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I frightened you, little one.” His tone softened as he gently clasped her calf. “You don’t need to fear when I raise my voice. I won’t hurt you,” he assured her. “When it comes to your health and safety, I require your full attention; that’s all.” He bent low, to meet her eyes which were fixed on Nakhona’s withers. When he caught her gaze, he smiled and patted her leg.
“I know you are excited to be with Nakhona again, and I don’t wish to take that away from you. But you must be cautious on this first day, so that you don’t re-injure your hip. You’re not accustomed to being on horseback, and it will require some time for your body to adjust. Will you please practice moderation and inform us of any difficulty?”
“Yes, Ada,” Elena replied, duly chastised.
“Now enjoy, little one.” He smacked the filly’s hindquarters, sending Nakhona into full motion.
Elena let out a squeal of delight as the two circled the clearing again. She was going to enjoy this day very much.
~
The hours on the road were not nearly as pleasurable as Elena had anticipated. The required slow pace was not at all to her liking, and she didn’t have the thrill of the ride to distract her from the discomfort of joints that weren’t accustomed to being astride a horse. Even with the thickly padded blanket beneath her, she seemed to feel every bone in Nakhona’s back. After two hours, she was all too willing to dismount and walk for a time.
For the next week, Elena alternated between riding and walking, slowly developing the endurance to remain longer on Nakhona. There was nothing the filly could do to assist her on that count. And though the injury to her hip ached greatly, it didn’t reopen or inflame. Her body was growing stronger by the day.
Celdorn took every opportunity to point out landmarks and give Elena impromptu history lessons although he grew more solemn the closer they got to the Pallanors.
Elena’s dread increased as the mountains drew ever nearer. She couldn’t yet see the peaks as the foothills were blocking their view, but Celdorn assured her that by tomorrow when the road pulled away from the slopes and moved more directly into the plains, they would be clearly visible. Elena was uncertain why she had such misgivings about the mountain pass, but it seemed to be the focus of her trepidation. Perhaps it was due to Celdorn’s story of his return to Shefali and what he had witnessed from that summit. She had vividly imagined again and again the horror he must have felt when he realized his family’s village was on fire and the helplessness of still being too far away to do anything about it.
Elena grew restless as her apprehension increased. She began to ride Nakhona back and forth the length of the company, gradually picking up her pace with each pass until she was doing circles around the group at a full gallop. She found herself laughing with abandon as the wind whipped her hair and the speed made her feel as if she were flying, utterly free.
“Elena!” Celdorn shouted as Zhalor eased in front of Nakhona with a whinny and a snort.
She reined in Nakhona and immediately hung her head. The tone in Celdorn’s voice frightened her.
Celdorn dismounted, moved to the side of Nakhona and lifted Elena from her back. He was quiet for several moments before speaking, his chest rising and falling, as if working to gain control of his anger. Elena waited, heart pounding.
“Am I in trouble again?” she finally asked, focusing on her boots.
She heard him give a soft snort. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you are going to be the death of this filly if you don’t stop this frenetic behavior,” he scolded. “There’s a reason we move at a slow pace, Elena. It is for the sake of our steeds. We’re approaching a very steep climb and if we expect them to bear us up those slopes, we must work to conserve their energy.”
“Oh.” Elena studied Nakhona for the first time. The filly was soaked in sweat and her sides heaved. “I didn’t even think of that, Ada. I’m sorry.”
She stroked Nakhona’s neck. “Forgive me, my friend. I didn’t understand.”
No apology necessary, my lady. I enjoyed it as much as you, Nakhona replied.
My Nakhona is equally prone to such lack of prudence, Zhalor added with his own snort. The rashness and invincibility of youth, I suppose. She has not been called upon to make long journeys and does not realize what may yet be required of her.
Elena glanced at Nakhona sideways and grinned. “We understand now. We’ll behave ourselves, Ada, Zhalor.” She bowed to each as she spoke.
Celdorn chuckled and shook his head. He called the rest of the company to a halt, and they set up camp for the night.
~
The next morning, Elena rose in the grip of terror. She didn’t know if it followed her from her dreams or its source was outside her. She just knew that as she mounted Nakhona, she found it difficult to breathe.
Elbrion, sensing her mood, eased Drendil alongside her. “What is it, Sheyshon?”
Elena didn’t want to speak of it, not wanting to make it worse, to make it more real. “I’m fine, Ada,” she lied. “I’m just tired this morning.”
“Sheyshon, you forget that you cannot deceive me.” Elbrion smiled. “What is troubling you?”
She couldn’t look at him. The fear wrapped around her chest and squeezed. “Death,” she finally blurted out. “I sense it near, but I don’t know who’s at risk, what it is I’m dreading.” Speckled light danced around the edge of her vision as she gazed up at him. “Who is next to die because of me?”
Elbrion reached for her hand. “We will move forward with caution, Sheya. And do everything within our power to remain safe. The rest is in the hands of the Light,” he replied, his tone soft and even.
His steadiness calmed her. “And it does no good to worry, does it?”
“Fear is our warning. It is an ally sent to prepare us. It is not to be our commander. To give in to worry is to let fear lead.” Elena frowned as she struggled to decipher his words. Elbrion smiled again. “So, yes, you are right, it does no good to worry.” He tugged at her hand. “Come, we will inform Celdorn of your warning before we move forward.”
~
Celdorn and Zhalor were in the midst of a discussion with the help of Silvandir when Elena and Elbrion approached. Elbrion dismounted and related what they had been discussing.
“I awoke with the same dread,” Celdorn said. “I was just speaking with Zhalor about that very thing. Zhalor likewise has felt the need to have the Ilqazar lead the way from this point. He senses something approaching.”
Elena shivered. Silvandir walked over and stood by Nakhona, gently patting Elena’s leg. He grinned up at her. She took a deep breath and returned the smile. These men, and Ilqazar, were so calm. They sensed the same things as she did, but they were so steady and untroubled. What was wrong with her?
Zhalor shook his massive head. There is nothing wrong with you, my lady.
Elena gaped at him, eyes widening.
This is what we do. It is for this very thing the Guardians and Ilqazar train. As you continue your training as a warrior and face continued uncertainties, you will find that you too will develop an inner strength.
You heard me? She didn’t speak the question aloud, testing to
see if it was in fact the case.
Zhalor turned his head, ears pricked forward. You are not the only one who can hear thoughts, Elena.
Silvandir studied the two of them with puzzlement. She was fairly certain he couldn’t hear her thoughts, but was only hearing Zhalor’s half of the conversation.
Nakhona’s ears turned toward Elena then back to her father. She shook her head with a nicker.
You too? Elena’s face went hot.
No, my lady, we do not hear all thoughts, Zhalor assured her. I do not know why that is the case. It seems the Jhadhela assists us in hearing certain things while blocking others. As you know from your own experience, if one hears too many thoughts at once it can be overwhelming.
Elena stared at him, dumbfounded. How did you know that? You were not even in the Great Hall. You were far from there. A shiver ran through her at this revelation. “How much of my experience are you aware of?” she asked aloud.
Celdorn and Elbrion turned their attention at the sound of the distress in her voice. They gazed back and forth from the girl to Zhalor. Silvandir stepped toward them and explained.
You have nothing to fear with me, my lady. I apparently know only what I am to know. I cannot explain why it is revealed to me or what the connection is between us, but, yes, I was aware of what happened in the Great Hall, and, no, I was not aware of what happened in the privacy of your own room.
Elena didn’t believe him. She suddenly felt overwhelmed and exposed, as if, once again, she had no place of her own, no place to which she could retreat. Even her most private thoughts were no longer private. She turned Nakhona and kicked her sides, wanting to escape, though even in doing so, she realized the futility. Zhalor had heard her thoughts over a distance. No matter how far she ran, she was no safer from him than from Anakh and her kind.
At Elena’s urging, Nakhona galloped away from the road and out into the open prairie. Moments later, Elena screamed in agony. Nakhona skidded to a stop, and Elena slid from her back, gripping her ears as she curled up in pain.
Nakhona gave a sharp whinny. What is it, my lady?
~
Celdorn and Zhalor arrived in moments, quickly followed by Elbrion and Silvandir. By then, Elena was thrashing on the ground, arms wrapped around her head as if trying to hold it together.
Celdorn dismounted and ran to her, pulling her into his arms. “What’s wrong, Elena?”
“I can’t stop them,” she screamed. “Help me, Ada. Help me.”
Celdorn cradled her close as she continued to writhe, at a complete loss as to what was happening. Elbrion put his hands on Elena’s head. With a cry, he let go and gripped his own head, his light pulsing wildly.
She is hearing Anakh and a host of other voices, Zhalor informed them through Silvandir.
Celdorn looked up at the stallion. “What do we do?”
Zhalor shook his head. That I do not know.
Silvandir’s eyes went wide. “Don’t say that, Zhalor. There must be something.” He dropped to his knees beside Elena. “Think!”
I am sorry, Silvandir. I have never encountered this before.
Nakhona pressed herself against Zhalor as Elena screamed out again.
Elbrion took some deep breaths, steadied his light, then again placed his hands on Elena’s head. Gritting his teeth, he held on and began to sing. With each note, he increased his volume until Elena stopped writhing and lay still in Celdorn’s arms.
Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at Celdorn, as if fighting to come back from some distant place. “You are safe, Elena. I have you.” He smoothed the hair back from her face.
Silvandir gripped her hand, tears of relief sliding down his cheeks.
“She was calling to me. Just like in my nightmares.” Elena turned her face into Celdorn’s chest and started sobbing. “She’s calling me home.”
“Elena, that is a lie,” Celdorn said sharply, grabbing her chin. “We are your home. We are your family. Don’t believe her lying, malicious voice.” His words punched as he squeezed her tightly. “We are your home, little one; we are your home.”
Chapter 51
It had been an excruciating and exhausting hour for Elena and those battling for her sanity. When finally she was quiet and the voices in her head had ceased, the small group rejoined the rest of the company to prepare for the day’s journey. Zhalor let out a loud whinny and Ilqazar appeared from every direction. Celdorn and Zhalor had decided that the Ilqazar would go before the Guardians and flank both sides of the company. More than two thousand Ilqazar made an intimidating vanguard.
Throughout the morning, the company moved continually east, away from the foothills. Just before noon, they came around a bend in the road that skirted a rather large peak and before them stood the heights of the Pallanors, looking down on them menacingly.
Elena immediately reined in Nakhona and stared at the view. On the one hand, it was breathtakingly beautiful with jagged, saw-toothed peaks still tipped with snow and verdant lower slopes that looked like soft velvet in the afternoon sun. But on the other hand, it was daunting, with cliffs that rose eight thousand feet above them. The pass was engulfed in dark, angry clouds.
Celdorn and Elbrion drew alongside her, taking in the familiar panorama in silence. They smiled as they watched her reaction. She knew her mouth hung agape and her eyes were wide, filled with curiosity and wonder. The Mongar Mountains were nothing compared to these. Although her adai had traveled this way countless times, the view still seemed to evoke awe in them as well.
“That is Mount Gremont to the east and Mount Neshon to the west,” Celdorn explained, pointing out the peaks to Elena. “The one through which the pass moves is named Mount Bashon, which translates as the Mount of Sorrows. There is a long history to the name, but you know its meaning for me.”
He fell silent. Even now, nearly a quarter of a century later, Elena felt the sharpness of her ada’s pain and a renewed flood of guilt. Visions of the destruction of Shefali exploded in her head: the razed structures, the mass of dead bodies, and worst of all, the bodies of Celdorn’s mother and father side by side, hewn in pieces, and his infant sister’s burned remains in the rubble of the family home. The potency of the vision twisted her stomach.
Celdorn glanced at Elbrion. “I wonder if my brothers still live,” he said, as if expecting that Elbrion knew the flow of his thoughts. “If so, they would be in their forties now. I want to know if they ever broke free of their captivity. Did they have opportunity to have families? Did they try to return home?” He slammed his fist into his thigh. “Ah, so many unanswered questions.”
“The same tormenting questions that arise each time we pass this way,” Elbrion replied. “It seems I was so naive back then, idealistic. I was sheltered inside Queyon, even with all that transpired there. I was not prepared for the cruelty of which humans are capable.” He sighed.
Elena knew the pain her adai carried in their memories, knew that the descent into the Tralori Valley would be difficult even after so many years. The one good thing that had come of the destruction of Shefali and the surrounding villages was that Celdorn and Elbrion had found each other, a partnership forged in the very fires of that brutal invasion.
Elena looked around, searching for Mikaelin. He, too, bore the scars of Shefali, having lost his parents in the invasion. That loss had left him susceptible to the brutality of an uncle who forever changed his life. He was nowhere in sight, but she felt his increasing torment.
Haldor and Shatur had been damaged by Shefali as well. Haldor had been gone during the invasion, but the aftermath to which he returned devastated him. Though she knew little of his story, Shatur has escaped being taken captive by the Ice Men because of his missing hand. He suffered some sort of brutality, but he never discussed it, never dwelt on sorrows. He was a man who chose laughter and embraced the lighter side of life. She could use a few lessons from him.
Her eyes returned to the pass. What would it be like for these men as they made their descen
t on the far side of this massive mountain?
Elena suddenly gasped and felt woozy and cold, as if the blood had drained from her body, drawing Celdorn and Elbrion’s immediate attention. Without a word, she raised a shaking hand and pointed to the summit. The thunderheads had parted as if blown away by a gale, and behind them appeared a horizontal black line that seemed to pulsate on the elevated horizon. As Elena watched, shivering with dread, the line widened like a mouth opening to consume. There were no clouds, no color, no movement in the space, just a lifeless void—a void she’d seen too many times. A loud hum filled the air, and Elena knew it emanated from there.
Softly it began: the internal voice whispering for her, urging her on. It had a strange, mesmerizing sweetness to it, beckoning her. Come home.
“No!” Elena cried into the air. “Home is here. You lie.”
The whispers grew louder. This is your destiny.
“No, you’re calling me to everlasting shadow and torment,” Elena argued. “I won’t. Never. Do you hear me? Never!”
“Good work, little one.”
“Stand firm, Sheyshon.”
Haldor approached at a gallop and reined in his horse alongside Elena. His eyes were fixed in the distance, listening. As if on signal, he and Elbrion began to sing until light completely engulfed Elena.
“She will not win, Elena,” Celdorn encouraged her. “We must move forward.”
Elena nodded and took a deep breath. She nudged Nakhona, and they moved toward Elena’s greatest fear. For the remainder of the day, she rode between Haldor and Elbrion, bathed in the light and protection of their incessant melodies.
When the sun set and the void was no longer visible, Elena’s dread subsided. The men set up camp, and she dropped onto her mat and immediately fell into a deep sleep.
~
The night passed uneventfully, and the company rose with the sun, prepared to move on. When Elena woke, Celdorn and Elbrion were seated nearby, watching her. It was a comfort to learn they had kept vigil all night. Their faces remained etched with concern even when she informed them that she’d slept peacefully, with no nightmares.