by Susi Wright
The ability of the samblar to outrun any land creature in the Known World, and probably outside of it too, could well be useless if they were unable pull the heavy travois at speed, or to carry the dead weight of a comatose man in addition to its rider. In a sudden attack from a hungry predator, even mind-sight would give them almost no time to lash their charge across the back of a samblar.
Ardientor had been considering options for the last two hours and one idea was becoming more attractive by the minute.
The air-cloak of a Gaian flier with average ability would usually only work if the passenger was able to hang on. Otherwise, it was more dangerous than it was worth. Even Ardi, with all his training, was only marginally better at it than most. Consequently, he had joined the vote for the travois, the best choice for Luminor's comfort and dignity. It would still be most suitable, if it were not for the sense of foreboding, nestling gradually into his gut.
As the night wore on, so did the nagging feeling. For Ardi, there was no intrinsic fear so, before too much longer, he took it as a forewarning, signalled a halt and reined in his samblar.
The other two men responded quickly, joining him to listen for unusual noises, while Ardientor cast his mind-sense around.
The only sounds, the intermittent snorts and fidgeting of their mounts, echoed in the enclosing darkness. As it had been during this last hour before moonrise, the road ahead remained silent, empty, wending into the pitch of the night.
Behind them, a swirling mist was beginning to gather, more eerie here in Morvia, due to its luminous blue tinge as it refracted light from twin moons. It was truly a phenomenon how certain things in this land were similar, yet so much was different, to life on the other side of the Impossible Mountains.
The sheer size of the larger moon demanded notice now, rising fully over the craggy horizon, with its sapphire attendant suspended directly in front of it.
Looking over his shoulder, in the direction they had come, Ardientor caught glimpses of this strange sight through the passing clouds: a huge luminescent disc, perfectly framing its brilliant blue companion. It was almost impossible to look upon directly. The light emitted was as blinding as the sun, so the covering of mist afforded a bearably muted view, which was no less impressive.
The silver-blue moonlight threw long dark shadows from leafless, gnarled trees which lined the road behind, creeping fingers in their wake, clutching and vying for purchase against bright shafts and shifting mist.
Somewhat absently, Ardi committed the marvellous sight of the dual-moonrise to memory as one of the wonders he had seen so far in his short life. But his attention had not really left the immediate environment. The growing sense of urgency contradicted the fact that he could not detect a single living presence within his range.
A glance exchanged with Lor added nothing more. Aware of the limits of his experience, trained in the laws of Nature as they applied to the Known World, he struggled to understand this incongruity. Perhaps here, the same principles did not always apply. Of course, the supernatural had limitless possibilities. He focussed as sharply as he could, casting out for the unfamiliar.
Shadows and silence surrounded them.
Strange moonlight, mist, nor the changing shadows posed a threat, but there was something sinister about the silence. Nothing present . . . it was a deep absence.
“Silence is a screen!” he whispered urgently, with sudden insight, leaping from his mount. Instantly alert, his companions moved just as quickly, joining his efforts to untie Luminor from the travois and release the big samblar from the harness. Between the three, they hoisted Luminor aboard the animal's broad back and set about lashing him securely there.
The sight of his noble, powerful father, now resembling nothing more than a sack of yams, seemed somehow profane. With a sudden pang, Ardi realised how much he missed his father's constancy. At this moment, Luminor's instruction meant so much more: train in what is known, but always expect the unknown. If acted upon, intuition can defeat those things.
A rare occurrence, Lor spoke. “Admittedly, this is not the best way to travel, but I doubt Lord Luminor gives any mind to comfort or ease right now. It is for the best!”
“That is surely the truth!” agreed Ardi. “We are going to have to push on, there is no sense in waiting here. But be ready for anything. I am sorry, I can not describe it. Whatever happens, Beris, no heroics, make sure you take my father and run like the wind! I mean it – do only that! You know the way to the hideout?”
Beris nodded once. “Due south, brother, it's not difficult to keep those bloody great mountains in sight. We can leave the road, go cross-country. The samblars can handle it.”
The three were already astride their mounts, Beris leading Luminor's animal. Swiftly, they moved off the road into the bare cover of leafless trees, where dancing shadows would prove more friend than enemy, leaving the travois abandoned in a ditch.
Ardi let his intuition lead the way. His mind sharpened by the hour, similar to when he had first perceived the coming of the dragon. Secretly, he was excited, suspecting this was the birth of a glorious new talent, hungering for its fruition.
Every new insight served to settle the mantle of responsibility more comfortably about his shoulders. He was after all, his father's son, bearing the blood of chieftains. The mental battle between doubt and certitude was won. Pride swelled above jealousy as he reminded himself of reality: he, Ardientor, son of Fire and co-summoner of dragons, now protected the Supreme Protector!
The fortitude of self-assurance flooded his veins; he turned in the saddle, to add in a low, urgent tone, “And, you, brother Lor, help them before me. Any predator – if that is the threat – singles out the weakest. You know we must see to Father's safety, above all. If we are attacked, trust in the speed of the samblars.
“Once Beris is safely away, fly back if you can. Perhaps you will aid me, although this is surely mine to deal with. We have a little time, I think, so we shall continue south. In the meantime, I shall try to understand more about the menace. For now, nothing else is certain, except that darkness stalks us . . . and it draws closer!”
Chapter 32 : EBB AND FLOW
Espira woke well before dawn with a slight headache.
Sleep had not come easily that night, despite her weariness. Apprehension of the pending battle was ever-present; the enemy would be upon them in a few short hours. However, it was self-reprisal which kept her awake for hours. As soon as she left Ji to find her bedroll, feelings of guilt had assailed her. What had possessed her to be an accomplice in a beating?
She lay staring at the night sky, absently watching the twin moons rise behind a screen of blue mist, trying to come to terms with what amounted to a stupid, childish and spiteful prank. She imagined how Shuul would be feeling when he regained consciousness and winced inwardly.
As she mulled over the events of the evening, she could see how the realisation of her true feelings for Ji had sent her emotions into complete disarray. She was not surprised by this. It was one of the reasons for avoidance, until last night. A love affair was dangerous in many ways. Some aspects she regretted, others she did not.
Hours later, she still reeled with the effects of their kiss, the stir of passion. She had wanted to give Ji the assurance he craved before the battle, almost to the exclusion of all else. Saved by his sense of honour, she had been reminded of reality, brought back from the brink of a possible mistake. She railed at her weakness. She saw an inner strength in Ji, which she applauded. In return, she had wanted to give him at least his moment to demonstrate his need to protect her, undeniably flattered by it. Has my body, or my heart, betrayed me, on the eve of battle?
The worst of it was that Shuul had irritated her from the moment they met; she'd felt an inexplicable desire to slap the arrogant grin from his face and Ji had effectively fulfilled that dark wish. Now, she was flooded with feelings of guilt. An amorphous menace, which she guessed to be her own conscience, stalked her soul. Was this another
danger to worry about? Had she orchestrated the entire thing?
The only way she could finally allow exhaustion to take over, to fall asleep, was to plan her first act on waking. She would make restitution.
When she opened her eyes, it was pitch dark; the moons had found repose beyond distant peaks.
Ra still appeared to be sleeping, replete from his last hunt. Soon, it would be time to commune with him and there was much to reconcile before the day began. She quietly rolled and tied her blanket, leaning it against a large boulder. There were a few sounds of individuals, sniffling or stirring, some going off into the woodland to relieve their bladders.
She crept between boulder and tree, making her way towards the Cymbian encampment and hurried past the dragon's resting place, with no misgivings about her present intentions; she could return here in a few minutes to prepare for the day ahead with a much lighter conscience.
Attentive to the stealth of her passage, she did not notice behind. The huge body remained motionless, but Ra's eye opened slowly, wise and forbearing, to follow her every movement through the camp on her pre-dawn mission. Not much escaped his observation; all things were ordained to happen, much of it dangerous. For that reason, his watch would never end.
Another hundred paces brought her to the sleeping Cymbian group. Shuul was stirring, groaning quietly as his discomfort began to register.
Espira crouched at his side, to calm him and the others. She placed her hands on his face and channelled a small amount of healing energy. His eyes fluttered open, swimming with confusion and pain. A brief flash of recognition brought an attempt at a grin, before the sting of a split lip put an end to it.
Espira gave careful measure to how much she would give, stopping short of complete healing. He would still feel the discomfort of a few bruises, but the torn ear required more than Prian, so she concentrated on that injury. There would be no scar, except to Shuul's pride.
I am not going to make it too easy for you Shuul. You must learn respect, if you wish to join our cause! Satisfied, she finished her ministrations as she placed the indelible thought in her patient's mind, then left as quietly as she had arrived. On the walk back, she noticed an added benefit to the use of healing energy. Her headache had gone.
On her return, she found Ra fully awake. His gaze received her, patiently indulgent. Conscience salved from her recent mistake, she made no apology as she placed a hand on his neck and settled down beside him. One concern was out of the way, but her first battle loomed. Before full dawn, she needed to deepen her bond with Ra, draw his strength to appease not only apprehensions about the battle, but other yet-undetermined worries.
Between them, it was certain the engagement would be under-way in less than an hour. Espira felt a grim resolution about how it would play out. There were always a few rough edges of uncertainty about any situation. Cosmic powers were volatile and even the Elite made mistakes.
She thought of her father, reassuring herself he and Ardi were safe. The distance or other factors were bound to reduce her perception of them. Even Luminor had found it difficult to maintain his influence in two distant places at once, especially with other demands on his energy. The ebb and flow of mystic power constantly opened and closed doors of possibility.
To deny there was danger in any mission would be naïve, however, Espira could not detect an immediate threat to father or son. She admitted that when it came down to it, she would have to trust Ardientor and his companions with the task. She had Ra's encouragement on that.
Around them, the camp had come alive. The watchmen had signalled the enemy was in sight. Men mounted up and moved off to their positions of engagement. Espira didn't bother to look for Ji, knowing she had missed the departure of his squad, the first to go. A brief supplication was all there was time for now.
Keep him – keep them all – safe!
Ra rustled his scales, calling his rider to action; Espira took a deep, fortifying breath and climbed lithely atop his back. As he unfurled his mighty wings ready to take flight at her command, she was humbled to know this magnificent creature was hers. Together, they would save innocent lives, but there was always a cost: something given, something else taken away – ebb and flow.
Poised on the brink of this momentous task, Espira considered some of its significance. This mission represented her coming-of-age, the stark reality of battle sweeping away all childish, romantic notions in a tide of inevitable death and destruction. Destiny had made it hers to ride this tide and soar beyond it into a new age. The Alliance which her father established was the beginning of something wonderful, yet to be fully realised.
So much was unknown . . . but the time had come to learn more!
*
The light of dawn and the lifting mist did nothing to dispel the ominous feeling which followed Ardientor and his companions all through the night. Comprehension that the threat was in disguise was particularly unhelpful, although Ardi was now certain that something knew his father was vulnerable. This plan had to work!
Early morning appeared, almost as ghostly as night, grey and still. The companions rode on overland through lightly wooded terrain. It was the end of Morvian autumn, and just as in parts of the Known World, every tree had shed its leaves. Dry and black, this decaying carpet crackled beneath the samblars hooves, impossible to pass through quietly. Now more than ever, Ardi wished for the ease and silence of cloak-flight. Forced to accept the sense of inevitability shrouding them, he continued to scan the environment.
Between the three travellers, not one of them was familiar with Morvian fauna. Nevertheless, one could make an easy assumption that if anything carnivorous still survived in this land, after the giants had consumed practically everything with a heartbeat, it would be ravenous. Months of starvation could create all manner of diseases, turn a simple wild animal into a crazed monster. Perhaps that explained why the threat was hard to envisage. There was a worse possibility . . . a pack of such beasts!
Bare, grey timber skeletons stood all around them, branches clawing outwards towards each other to lock overhead, the enclosure seeming more like a cage than a canopy.
There was an increasing sense of entrapment.
Ardi and Lor exchanged an apprehensive look, neither able to gain more than a nebulous glimpse of peril. Lor gave up at that point. His concentration went into guiding his samblar with knee-pressure while he knocked an arrow into his bow, prepared for a possible ambush.
Despite his increased efforts to focus, Ardi could not fix on one direction for the menace. It seemed to change like a breeze, one side to the other, then all around them; advancing closer, and then dancing away, almost playfully. It was there; then it was gone.
Beris' veteran gut told him something was amiss, even if he had not seen the look shared by the other two. Ready to spur his mount to a gallop at Ardi's signal, he wound the lead-rope of Luminor's animal more tightly around his wrist. He could not risk losing hold. The samblars were getting testier by the minute, baulking at shadows.
This forest harboured an unnatural and deadly force.
The instant the thought formed, No warning! it happened.
“Now – go now!” yelled Ardi, gesturing sharply into the trees.
Beris charged away, lead-mount in tow. Samblar hooves thundered through the underbrush into the distance. Lor followed them, but circled back.
The clearing became unnaturally quiet.
Then, a spine-chilling howl rang out. Out of the underbrush on every side, burst huge wolf-like creatures, massive fanged jaws snapping and dripping with drool. Their paws made no sound in the dry leaves, as if they moved on air.
The pack closed in.
The largest one skirted around the clearing, as its unblinking yellow eyes assessed a target, but Lor's arrow also found a mark, embedding deep in its mangy, grey flank. The beast yelped and faltered, but the wound which would have felled any other hardly deterred this creature at all.
Lor's mount reared in terror as a sma
ller beast leapt for him, tearing his cloak off with its teeth as it fell back. He struggled to control his samblar, when the rabid animal sprang up and attacked again.
The strange inability to focus made it impossible for Ardi to take measure of the attack. Needing more agility, he leapt from his mount. With a sharp smack to the rump, he sent it off at a gallop, and swirled his air-cloak.
Quickly in the air, he avoided the fangs of another beast, swooping down to deal a death-blow, a deep thrust of his sword into its spinal cord. It slumped instantly. For some reason, that seemed too easy. Ardi glanced around for more, surprised to see there was only one other wolf.
It was fixed on Lor.
Thrown from his mount, the warrior fought the thing at close-quarters. The animal was fast, but Lor's sword was clearly faster. The copious blood all over its hide proved it was badly wounded. Then, Lor tripped and fell backwards. The wolf-beast coiled, a little unsteady on its haunches, but ready to spring.
Ardi moved to help; then froze. The biggest beast was gone. At once, he sensed it, almost upon its target. No time. His father needed him more! He swore loudly.
Breathless, Lor yelled, “Go! I have this!”
Ardientor took off, hot on the trail of the alpha, satisfied that Lor could easily kill the remaining beast, now abandoned by its leader; its malevolent presence, cleverly spread between three, had appeared like a dozen.
Starved and mindless with disease, the wolves made easy hosts for something much more sinister; no longer animated by it, they were simple shells of skin and bone.
The real danger pursued his father. Suddenly, Ardi had a single entity to focus on, and he understood what to do.