by Susi Wright
“You have our word! We will stay together.” Timin's eyes took on a conspiratorial gleam. A natural leader, he gladly assumed responsibility for these few individuals, now entrusted with exclusive knowledge of a secret mission. The other nods of acceptance confirmed that Ardientor's present task here had been accomplished. His eyes conveyed his pledge to them, before he took off back to the clearing, secretly anticipating the flight of his life!
Descending into the meadow, he felt slightly affronted by the cosy sight of Espira, seated comfortably on the ground, leaning nonchalantly against the creature's outstretched neck. She had communed. The dragon's eyes were closed, as if he was taking a nap.
“I see you did not wait for me, then!” he complained lightly, approaching with care. Ra opened one observant eye.
So – not sleeping!
“Well, you were taking such a time. Someone has to get on with things!” She continued with a grin. “Anyway, lucky for you, he accepts us both – thanks to my bonding skills. We can be sure now, he won't buck you off!”
“Since you are intent on doing so . . . lead the way big sister! Let's just stop blabbing and get going!” He grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet. His mock bow challenged her to be first to mount the enormous beast. He knew Espira not only had a special empathy with animals, she was a proficient samblar rider. But this most definitely was not a samblar, nor like any other creature in Existence! Neither was there the security of saddle or bridle. “Show me how it is done – if you must!”
This occasion was historic. As such, it carried inherent ceremony. Espira sensed that the first ride had to be fully permitted by the creature; one could not commit sacrilege by saying his name out loud, so she made the request silently. Ra! Up, please?
He obliged by turning his great head to nudge them gently off their feet onto his muzzle and proceeded to lift them through the air, depositing both onto his broad back. In future, they would be allowed the liberty of using their air-cloaks to mount without permission.
Espira and Ardientor smiled at each other, each grasping a handful of long blue crest feathers, as Ra stretched out his wings, rose effortlessly high above the forest, and banked towards northern skies.
To Morvia.
To be seated on the back of this magnificent creature, rather than seem dangerous to either of them, felt elementally right. For one thing, it had brought brother and sister, children of the Fires, together again . . . to fulfil their destiny!
Chapter 20 : PENALTY
Shuul regarded his captor with cool disdain. He had rarely been thwarted in all his years as chieftain. Now it seemed, he and his clan were about to be sentenced to death. And, he guessed, there would be all kinds of magic to prevent their escape. Bitterly, he conceded that were he in this Gaian's position, he would do exactly the same. However, he did not feel ready to accept such a fate. Not while he still had his wits!
Luminor maintained a neutral expression as he assessed the tall Cymbian chief. Shuul presented an striking figure, physically strong and probably a good leader of his men, even though he had made a serious mistake thinking they could get away with robbery. And, the man was still clinging doggedly to hope that there was a way out of dying. Luminor expected no less from a clan-chief. He admired resilience. Logic and convention demanded certain actions but he had never favoured cold-blooded execution. He sighed, coming to a weighty decision and came to his feet to deliver it.
“I should end the nuisance you surely are . . . certainly not make unnecessary baggage of you and your men!” He frowned and paced a few steps before he turned to face Shuul once more.
“Fortunately for you, there are benefits in keeping you alive. You are familiar with Morvian territories, the recent state of things since the invasion and the ways of the barbarians. We could use that knowledge.
“Your sense of survival is strong. It will keep you in good stead. I cannot let you go . . . instead I shall make you an offer. We leave in a few hours and according to our scouts, the earthquake might have saved us days of travelling. They tell me we can reach Morvia in two days.
“Come willingly back to those lands . . . serve me, as guides and sell-swords, in exchange for food and my protection. If Fate allows, you might have the opportunity to return to the Known World with us. No shackles, no chains. This is an opportunity to make amends for all the years of raids on the Morvians. Help to rescue some of them, and perhaps win a new life of freedom into the bargain!
“You will have to change your ways, but there is gainful employment and much opportunity for those loyal to the Alliance. Until you earn my trust, I will not consider extending that benefit to you. Make no mistake – we can predict every intention, every move! I cannot promise that you will all survive, but your unique talents afford you a greater advantage than my human soldiers. I can promise, that if you or your men abuse this offer in any way . . . Well then, I definitely will kill you!”
Inwardly, Shuul fought the painful idea of having to return to face the flesh-eating giants. It was the last thing on his list of things to do. In fact, it was on his list of 'never-to-do'! At the moment, he did not feel particularly inspired by Luminor's version of Fate. Capture by Zorgs was a far worse way to die than the swift execution he imagined at Gaian hands. However, he was also a realist. He smiled cynically.
“Do I really have a choice? If there is a chance for us to survive, I must consider this. But what protection can you really give us? Some of your soldiers were just lost to the mountain. You obviously could not save them. And I heard that some of your 'special' warriors perished before, in Morvia . . . so a Gaian is not immortal, then?”
Luminor flashed an enigmatic smile. “Not quite. But this time . . . I am here as Supreme Protector! Believe me, that is the best chance you will get, my Cymbian friend!”
*
Trees and villages gradually became tiny specks; mountains and valleys blurred, before they disappeared beneath the clouds, as Ra carried the siblings higher and higher into the atmosphere. Espira felt an affinity with this creature stronger than any other in her life. She tested her control by thought, Slightly left, or, Right, receiving an immediate response when he banked carefully one way, then the next.
Ardientor revelled in his role as passenger, for once not minding the fact that his sister appeared to be in charge. It was enough to know that without his energy to complete the circle in the cave, they would never have been able to summon Ra, at least not while their father lived.
In a magnanimous mood, Espira ignored her brother's youthful exuberance and frequent whoops of glee. She was painfully aware of how much time during their childhood he had spent sullen or angry.
It was refreshing to see him so happy. Not only did he bask in the moment, but he now knew he played an integral part in the quest; her dear brother seemed entirely inspired by this new purpose. And who would not be impressed by this? Dragon-flight was beyond glorious! As they felt time and place consumed by it, they both experienced a surge of elation as never before. Ra's mighty wings beat slow and steady, but they were travelling at supernatural speed, flying the Ether as only a dragon can.
*
“I accept!”
Shuul had the best interests of his small clan in mind. At least, this choice gave them a chance to survive. He had decided that it would be safer to assume Luminor could read his mind; he would not gamble on lies. It was certainly true, that to endure their harsh nomadic lifestyle, Cymbians had become multi-talented and adaptable. The offered employment was familiar to them. Their lives had entailed many nefarious activities, as scouts, spies and mercenaries for any warlord willing to pay for their services in the vast lands beyond Morvia. For that they would need their swords. Shuul flashed an audacious grin. “When do we get our weapons back?”
Luminor smiled tightly and nodded.
“Ah yes, about that . . . You will be re-armed when we reach Morvia – before battle, for that is when you will surely need them!”
A short time lat
er, Shuul and his band were re-united within the confines of the camp, offered some food and a place to snatch a few winks of sleep by a fire. Duly briefed about their new position by their chief, the band accepted the penalty and these small comforts, a little wary but grateful. They were not exactly prisoners, but for the time being they would be under watchful Gaian eyes.
Luminor's senses were surprisingly positive about his decision. He detected a certain honour in the Cymbian character. Perhaps 'honour among thieves' as the saying went, but honour all the same. He could build upon that. And, despite the recent drain on his energy during the earthquake, he felt strong enough. Allowing himself a short respite to sleep with only a couple of hours until dawn, he was visited by dreams of a wondrous time, more than a decade before, when he flew as Ra, to view the fate of the tyrant Xian's pet wraith, saw into the depths of the Eternal Flame, and gained glimpses of the future for the nascent Alliance.
Luminor was among the first to rise. He had awoken completely refreshed from what most would consider merely a nap. Patches of clear lilac had appeared in the dawn sky. This morning, the clouds did not hold the common threat of snow and the wind was gentle, good signs for productive day's march. He wasted no time organising the departure, as soon as Gaian scouts had flown in with their reports.
It was good news. Morvia was now even closer than they thought. The massive peaks to the north had been cleft into a huge rift valley, almost all the way to the border of Morvia. A gift! It would make an easy day's travel for the ground forces and, if things did not change too much during the coming night, there was one last push over a high pass to the sheer cliffs marking the end of the Impossible Mountains, at least until their return.
The arrival in Morvia would only be the beginning. They would all face a deadly foe, completely unfamiliar to all but a handful of their number, a test, even for the best. But this mission had brought them so far, and they were as ready for it as they could be.
By now, the green recruits, Ji among them, had become proficient at striking camp. All the gear had been packed in record time. Before they had been accepted for enlistment in the Capital, every man had proven a certain proficiency with weapons and an ability to ride. A few, who had been new to riding the much larger, spirited samblars, had gained confidence in the early days of the journey as they became familiar with their mounts. Some were now almost equal in skill to their veteran comrades.
Recently finished with a small bowl of thin porridge each, they stood exchanging light banter with their peers, reins of their samblars in-hand, ready to mount up. Luminor's positive mood seemed infectious. Morale was high. To a man, they were all eager to be on their way, glad to be alive this day!
Luminor addressed Shuul and the other Cymbians at first light, allocating them some of the mounts who had thrown or lost their riders in the disaster. A line of more than a dozen of these animals stood saddled and bridled, apparently rested and calm, ready for their new masters.
“These samblars will be your mounts. Can you and your men ride?” Luminor sensed trepidation in a few of the Cymbian band. There was a rapid exchange of comments in their native language.
Quietly aside to Luminor, Shuul spoke for his gang. “We rode different creatures, florks, when we could steal some. We learned how to ride and control the stubborn beasts, but they were slow and lazy – never much use in a raid – though sometimes we used them for long journeys between settlements. More often than not, they would give away our presence, because we could not camouflage them. We have never seen a creature like this! Yesterday, we observed these . . . samblars . . . they seem far more useful, impressive – fast and agile. But my men are worried that these few must indeed be the most unruly mounts in your entire army, since they are the ones now without riders!”
Luminor responded with wide smile. “The spirited ones are often the best choice for battle – ask any experienced cavalryman! These animals are merely young with basic training, but once bonded properly with a rider, their great hearts will serve to the death. You are lucky this morning, the handlers have saddled them for you. After today, you will be caring for them yourselves in order to improve the bond . . . and riding, if you do not want to run on foot all the way to Morvia!
“I suggest you quickly select one, and acquaint yourselves with the creature by its name. The handler will supply you with that. Come now, I know you are courageous men who have fought and survived giant cannibals! Surely, you can not be defeated by a samblar's antics. Much of it is a confidence trick – so you should all be half-way there! Mount up. Perhaps, if you are occupied with staying aboard a spirited samblar, in order to stay with the rest of us, not to mention the only available food source, you will not be inclined towards mischief!”
Luminor turned on his heels to attend to other matters, leaving the Cymbians to save face by rising to his challenge. A group of curious human and Morvian soldiers had gathered to watch how the newcomers would fare.
Shuul prompted his men by example, taking the reins of the nearest samblar from the handler. It was perhaps fortunate that its human name was incomprehensible to him, as he repeated firmly but gently, “Whoa, 'Lightning',” and climbed on to its back in one fluid movement. His confidence helped considerably, when he gathered up the reins to master the animal and it responded obediently. He grinned proudly at his men.
It was lucky that none of them understood the names, always given to a samblar according to its disposition. The human handler barely hid a smirk, as he gave each of Shuul's men an animal and supplied its name. Torrent, Hurricane, Windfall and Striker were among them. Unaware, therefore confident, each of his men followed Shuul's success, all mounting their steeds without mishap, to join the Baramese ranks as they moved out and onward to Morvia.
The wily Cymbians clearly understood, however, that these samblars were all fast and agile. It promised an advantage. Clinging to that fact gave them hope. If they learned quickly how to control the animals, they could outrun the fearsome giants when the time came. If push came to shove and Gaian attentions were engaged elsewhere, perhaps they would outrun everyone and escape.
As Luminor flew ahead of his warriors, he felt positively buoyant. Gone, was the dragging feeling there might be trouble at home. There was no trace now of the underlying fatigue which had dogged him for the past few months. Perhaps the effects of the poison, despite its tendency to become progressively worse, had finally worn off after all. Sense-signs bode well for the success of the quest as he felt a new surge of energy which banished all doubt about his health. At this moment, there was no doubt that the Supreme Power was still his to wield. Fire and his loyal men would save the lives of their Morvian brothers!
After a long day of travel, the army camped at the edge of the border range, under the stars of a surprisingly clear night sky. Temperatures were still freezing but bearable without the wind. Soldiers and warriors alike took this opportunity to rest and relax, before the next day's final push into Morvia.
Earlier in the journey, a couple of the Cymbians had lost control of their samblars when a minor rock-slide had startled them. They were thrown from the saddle, but had quickly remounted. Both men continued to get used to their mounts as the day wore on, with encouragement from Shuul and some of the experienced handlers like Ji. When they dismounted at eventide, the worst injury any of the Cymbians had was saddle-soreness, but that was also common for many of the other riders.
Before he left to help set up camp, Ji schooled them on the routine care and handling of the animals, and later he rejoined them around one of the campfires, invited by Shuul to answer further questions about riding and the behaviour of samblars. In this, Ji was considered an expert among his peers; most of the cavalrymen knew the origin of their own mounts, many procured by the army from Ji's father, Simban.
As the Cymbians and their new acquaintance sat sipping on the last of the watered mead, hunger appeased by the evening bowl of stew, Shuul took measure of Ji. He had observed that humans, unlike their
Gaian friends, did not appear to have any magic at all, so it did not concern him to have a secret motive when he invited the young man to join them. As any spy would know, a friendly chat could turn up all kinds of information. Of course, it was useful to learn more about samblars, but he also wanted to find out more about the Gaians and their special talents. He was particularly curious about their supremely-empowered lord, Luminor.
Chapter 21 : SHUUL
The sky was a strange colour. Purple and blood-red streaked the horizon as dusk approached.
The Baramese army assembled on the top of a large plateau overlooking the land of Morvia. They had finally finished another long ascent and now their goal was in sight.
Xandor stood beside Stolis, regarding the scene far below with more than a little trepidation. “Well Commander, we are here. And this is really just the beginning! We'll camp here and go down in the morning, agreed?”
Stolis nodded and squinted into the sunset.
From this high point, apart from the sky, it looked much like any other land; one could see far into the distance. For leagues around, the rolling green hills disappeared into an apparently peaceful afternoon haze. However, everyone knew the reality on the ground was far from quiet. Down there, murder and mayhem reigned. Morvians faced an epic struggle to survive a terrible death, and it would soon become a Baramese battle too. Where these men were standing, in relative safety, they were grateful for one last bit of peace.
This milestone marked the end of the Impossible Mountains for a time. If Fate was kind, they hoped most of their company would return with rescued Morvian brothers and make the crossing back before winter set in.