Legacy: Book #3, the Fire Chronicles

by Susi Wright

  *

  In the northern reaches of the Impossible Mountains, three Morvians were having their own doubts about survival. Finn had returned empty handed from the dawn foray to find food. He shivered, rubbing and blowing on his frozen fingers, as he warmed himself by embers of the campfire. “If I can just thaw my hands, I will try again!” he promised. “Stiff fingers spoil my aim!” He tried to smile through numb blue lips.

  Forming words was difficult, but it helped to get the circulation in his face going so he continued speaking, trying for the humour of which he was very fond. “As good as I am at tracking, hunting, skinning and eating, I can not wear mittens and use a slingshot at the same time! And, I swear the mountain rabbits up here have magical powers. Two disappeared before my eyes!” His audience did not seem amused in the slightest. He continued more sensibly to save face in front of Lelu. “Obviously, they are very fast!”

  Lelu put a tin cup of tisane into his hands. He sipped eagerly, soaking up the comfort provided by a few minutes of warm shelter and a drink. It was a weak brew, but it warmed his lips and hands. It would revive him enough to go out and have another try. Handing the empty cup back to Lelu with a grateful nod, Finn indicated to the still form of their guest, lying on the opposite side of the campfire. “How is he?” he asked hopefully of both his companions. The injured man remained motionless. “And, how is the babe?”

  “Arin's fever has not broken,” said Lelu. “Nothing has changed, except exhaustion keeps him quiet for now. Grandfather says it will flare again, but I refuse to let go of hope! Little Bilu is no problem at the moment. Mushroom juice seems to content him well enough. We must thank your uncle's experiments for that!”

  Finn acknowledged the news, both doubtful and good, with a very wide smile for Lelu which spoke of far more than friendship, and a nod to her grandfather which promised the second hunt would provide them all with a meal. The secret vision of Arin's fate hung sadly between the two men.

  Filling his pockets with loose pebbles from the cave floor, Finn squared his shoulders and ducked into the tunnel to leave their secret place and brave the cold morning once more, intent on bagging a pair of elusive mountain rabbits. He would not let one failure cloud his vision . . . and this time, he could actually see them roasting on the fire!

  Chapter 12 : SEEDS OF REVOLUTION

  It was dusk, almost time for creatures of the night to begin hunting.

  In the depths of a remote wooded valley of Baram's border ranges, five young men sat in a loose circle around a blazing campfire. Night was never a good time to be out here, even with a fire and their bows and arrows at the ready. Replete from a meal of roasted yams, they chatted at length about their plans and dreams, relaxing during the last hour of daylight. From now on, into the evening, they would have to be on their guard. Soon it would be past the time they usually headed back to the hut, where they could barricade themselves safely behind the heavy timber walls.

  They knew what danger lurked in the forest after dark. In the few months since taking up this life, they had all seen things beyond their imagination. Apart from becoming excellent hunters themselves, in order to survive, they had learned how to avoid falling prey to these things. It all came down to getting back to the cabin in time.

  They had fallen silent; they were staring into the flames, listening to the changing sounds of the forest, trying to reignite the excitement they had all felt when they set out from the hideout that morning. A few minutes ago they had heard a scuffle, then nothing. It was a few furlongs away, but sounds carried far in this forest. The nocturnal beasts were starting to hunt, and it seemed one had found a meal.

  Their strong sense of purpose about the rebellion, began to waver. It was hours past the time they had arranged to meet their leader and he had not yet shown up. None of them could avoid wondering if he had changed his mind, or his loyalties – or worse – if he had been prevented from his purpose by the mystical forces which seemed to be infiltrating every corner of their homeland. Mute with uncertainty, they exchanged anxious looks. What would they do now?

  They each reconsidered the commitment to their leader, their hatred of the new government and its ideology. The Alliance seemed to bring progress and prosperity, but beneath the shiny ideals, there lurked a subtle form of control which they found impossible to trust. Being human, they were powerless against the increasing reach of this power.

  Not one of them was older than seventeen summers; two had been disowned by their parents for their troublesome natures. The other three had run away from home in blind rebellion. Except for finding each other in their wanderings, they had come across very few who were remotely sympathetic to their cause; even fewer wanted to commit to it. Some even chased them out of town, threatening arrest or worse.

  At first in agreement that it was their only choice to avoid betrayal, imprisonment or lynching, they became outcasts, hiding and hunting in these isolated woodlands while they plotted. With the glamour and excitement of adventure uppermost in their minds, they saw themselves as brave outlaws, freedom-fighters. But after months of living under duress in the forest, arguments had begun, and worse, they were stalked by hungry beasts. Their cause had started to look a little shaky.

  That was until a few weeks ago, when he turned up. One who was personally experiencing oppression of the highest order; one who opposed the idea of control. His connections in high places might have made it worse for him, but still he seemed to resist, ignoring the implications of his actions. He had dubious blood-lines, admittedly, but he was on their side! His power and presence, his fiery rebellion, incited theirs to new heights; they were instantly attracted.

  Declared in the heat of anger, came his passionate commitment to the revolution, using all that was still in his power. This alone gave them reason to follow him. It seemed he could resist magic, endowed with talents far beyond their understanding; they believed his claim that he had successfully thrown off the yoke of control.

  Ordinarily that kind of power would have frightened them, but surprisingly, all they saw was a common belief. He understood them. His natural charisma reassured them; they had no objection to the fact that he had automatically assumed leadership. His help had been offered freely and, they had to admit, they needed his special skills. Before he became their friend, they had thought those people always stuck together, their magic an eternal tie, an unbroken bond. But, incredibly, he now led their crusade!

  That first strange meeting showed something of their leader's very useful perceptive abilities. In this remote and uninhabited woodland, there wasn't a beaten trail in sight. He had appeared out of nowhere, right in front of them, arms folded and a knowing look in those weird eyes, as if he had been expecting their arrival. With such a talent they could evade capture and plan effective strategies. More rebels would now be won over to the cause. Perhaps, in time, they could even overthrow the government. They couldn't wait to see just how far he was willing, or able, to go.

  At each new meeting spot for the last fortnight, he had been waiting for them, even if one or two of them got there early. Together, they discussed many ideas and plans for action, each time in a different location, around a campfire during late afternoon or dusk. Before night fell, he would end the discussion, mysteriously taking off into the trees, and they would make for the cover of their hut.

  It was not like him to be late.

  Another hour passed. Their doubts multiplied. Perhaps that strange influence, everyone was always talking about, had overpowered him after all!

  The silence of indecision was deafening. Had they been betrayed? Indignation warred with stubborn hope that the cause was not lost.

  After a while, it became too much for one of them, a gangly youth with freckles and a shock of red-hair. Timin stood up with a heavy sigh. Brave about most things, he was more than frustrated. He would never admit it, but he was very afraid of night beasts. “I think we might as well go back to the hideout, lads. We have been waiting four hours now. It i
s getting too late. He won't come now!”

  Mumbling their agreement, the others started to get to their feet. The youngest of them grumbled sullenly, “Typical! We should have known . . . those people are loyal only to themselves! They play with us humans, for fun!”

  “Now, why would you say such a thing?” The voice came from the trees above them. “I am wounded by it!” A dark hooded figure dropped down into their midst. From the shadow of the hood, only the white of his smile and two glowing green eyes shone in the darkness, but all five of the friends recognised him immediately.

  “I just saved you all from a zabuk leopard!” said the hooded one. “It stalked you not far from here! Did you not hear it? It was much closer than you knew! What would you do without me?” He laughed. “And, earlier, I simply needed some time to think. It would serve you well to take note of the value of meditation. That, my human friends, is the only way to come up with brilliant ideas!”

  This morning's swordplay, when Ardientor lost yet again to his conceited sister, had been the final straw. Cutting her could well mean severing ties to her and the rest of his clan. Good! His pride and simmering anger prevented him from going home. It had taken him many hours to contemplate what he would do next.

  With a flourish, Ardientor threw off his hood, grinning confidently at his peers. “And my decision . . . is brilliant!” Secretly, he was not yet sure of why, or exactly how, he was going to accomplish this idea.

  “I am going to summon a dragon!”

  Chapter 13 : TILL I LAY ME DOWN

  Six Elite, each with the benefit of over a century of experience, were seated silently around the meeting table.

  Aleana and Nerisse were among them, their heads bowed deep in thought. Espira, despite being younger than any of them by at least a hundred years, knew she had a right to be here. Individually, they were her tutors for the various arts, but rarely had she been in their collective company like this.

  She respected and loved them for their wisdom and fortitude. Humbled by their unquestioning show of loyalty and acceptance now, she joined them in a circle, a Gaian tradition which would never die.

  One of Espira's first insights came quickly, almost as soon as she opened her mind, and it was most encouraging.

  A moment later, Altor entered so quietly, he disturbed no one, yet all knew he was there. Together the eight sat, silent, in harmony.

  It was a while before anyone ventured to speak. Even the thought of words seemed to tarnish the illumination received from collective meditation. Had all Gaians been endowed with the gift of complete telepathy, such things would never be required. However, for reasons known only to the Ancestors, things were as they were.

  Consultation on the physical plane, verbal sharing, was always a necessary step for any important plan, even for the percipient ones. With the mingling of diverse races, effective communication had become an integral part of life.

  By consensus, the common language adopted had been the human dialect. Humans, the majority of the population, though due all respect for other qualities, had no mind-magic. Words were their domain; human lives would always be lived by them, so it had become an integral part of the growing Alliance. Much greater harmony had been achieved by a common tongue.

  Aleana spoke first. The familial Link gave deeper understanding. “No one disagrees that we need to find Ardientor, but it must be done quickly. While Luminor's restraints hold, we must work together to track the boy. And we can succeed against any shield my grandson might try!”

  Altor left his seat, fastening the clasp of his cloak at his throat. “I also sense the urgency, as does everyone in the room. I cannot leave my post at Capital Hall for long, so I suggest we leave immediately and find him tonight!” He smiled tightly. “None of us will be able to sleep anyway.”

  Espira's eyes shone with knowledge she had carried secretly for so long. “It is more now, than simply averting disaster for Ardi's sake alone! Yesterday the edict weakened briefly. I felt it waver, then strengthen again. I believe Fate, for her own reason, will have it fall . . . sometime soon. Papa is going to need us both at his side – with all your help – and more besides!”

  *

  Almost two weeks in the gruelling conditions of the Impossible Mountains was a severe test for even the strongest warrior. There was not one among them who did not feel extreme fatigue and other effects from the cold. The young human soldiers suffered the worst. Several had frost-bitten fingers, which had to be restored by the application of Prian ointment. Thanks to this new form of the magical herb, the old way of preparing it, by chewing into a paste with saliva, was rarely necessary. That had always been a very tedious but essential task.

  As expected, every nightfall brought with it a blizzard. Some storms were endured more easily. Other nights, they barely survived the freezing temperatures, saved wholly by Luminor's ability to produce fire by magical means, because in most places at this altitude there was nothing to burn. No wonder few had ever survived these mountains.

  At the end of the tenth day, close to dark, the men hunkered down in a snow-covered gully, where a few fires had been lit in the usual manner. A few cavalrymen busied about, unsaddling and tending to their mounts and the pack-animals. The warriors turned their attention to relieving the yak-beasts of their considerable burdens by unloading large cooking-pots, the last few potatoes and some dried beans. Topped up with melting snow, these pots produced the single, heartening meal of the day, served up to each man in a tin cup.

  As men began to sit, warming their hands at one blaze or another, they allowed themselves some rare time to relax, while the day's weather was was still blessedly calm; they chatted quietly or joked together, while they waited for supper.

  Luminor stood, a lone sentinel on a snowdrift at the far edge of the gully, his face tipped skyward as he assessed the coming weather. The evening sky was completely clear for the first time in days. Tonight there would be no storm. It would still be cold, but without a freezing gale to add to their woes. Fewer fires meant less drain on his energy.

  Suddenly, there was a stir. The two Gaian guides flew in from the north, returning from a scouting foray; they alighted on top of the drift, next to their leader.

  All eyes turned towards the ridge and every man strained his ears to hear the news.

  The flyers seemed in exceedingly good spirits. Elated, Tarin gave report, loud enough for his voice to carry across the gully. “We have found the cave with the hot springs. It is only six furlongs from here with one small pass to clear of snow . . . reachable by tomorrow night. It is large enough to shelter everyone. We are roughly halfway!”

  “Good news indeed, brothers!” Luminor smiled. “Please take your rest now – as will I.” He felt inordinately tired tonight and could hardly wait to lie down to sleep, as he ushered the two warriors to precede him down the slope towards the welcoming fires, a well-earned meal and blessed rest.

  *

  In the warmth of their small sanctuary, closer to Morvian territory, three other wayfarers were enjoying a tasty meal of roasted mountain rabbit. Finn had hunted for many hours, but eventually made good on his promise to succeed with the slingshot, bringing back two small but fat enough specimens, more than ample to feed them this day and the next.

  Before they found this cave, none of the three companions could remember the last time they had felt the least bit safe – certainly not for long enough to sit around, roasting meat on a fire, or to savour the eating of it. With their bellies full for the first time in weeks, they silently offered up thanks to the deities for this recent good fortune, in some small measure inclined to forgive what had been dealt to them previously.

  Finn spoke around a mouthful of juicy meat, the delectable grease dripping off his chin. His wide, contented smile faded. He had come to a decision. “Fate allowed me to keep my promise to find you food, but while I was out hunting, I realised that it is past time to face facts!” He finished chewing and swallowed. “I must stop dillying around
the truth!” He threw an apologetic glance to Lelu. “Other not-so-nice visions are going to become reality and we must make plans! Do you not think so, Elder Tobu?”

  Morvians generally communicated verbally in groups, saving their mind-to-mind pictures for intimate, or secret, interactions. Finn had wanted to pave the way slowly, let Lelu come to the understanding of the hard facts on her own. But now, he was certain that there was only this one evening left and he was out of time for tip-toeing. Plans had to be made for tomorrow when they would leave this place . . . without Arin.

  “I cannot agree more, Finn! We can only do so much. The rest is up to Fate,” said the old man, sagely.

  Lelu regarded the two men apprehensively. For some reason, her visions were not frequent, nor as clear as either of her companions. But she knew what they both meant. Perhaps, because she didn't want to lose hope, there were things she didn't allow herself to see. She glanced at Arin, still lying comatose on the other side of the campfire. The gashes on his leg were angry, purple-red and filling with pus. There was no salve to apply, so Lelu had tried several ice poultices, purely out of desperation. When one melted, she replaced it, but after almost a full day of trying, it proved useless. At her grandfather's insistence, she gave up the idea and took some food.

  The injured man's breathing was almost imperceptible now. It was hours since he had last stirred or took a drop of water past his lips. All the bathing had no effect on the fever. Even now, finally quiet from his thrashing, Arin's skin was far too clammy.

  Lelu had to admit the ugly truth. Sadly, there was nothing else to be done for him. Fate had over-ruled all their efforts! The man's life force was ebbing away. He would be gone by morning. Searching desperately for a happier thought, hope of a life yet to be lived, her eyes found Bilu, swaddled tightly in a blanket beside her. Perhaps her determination might still save him. He was also very still, but only in contented slumber, after another good measure of mushroom juice.