by Matt Heppe
The guards ran towards him. “How many?” one asked.
“Four that I saw. Just around the corner. A peasant revolt, I think.”
“Come, men!” The guard waved the rest of the men forward. As they ran towards the burning cart, Sulentis sprinted for the stairs. Telea dashed forward past the torches and started climbing.
She took the stairs as fast as she could. A dozen stairs passed. And then a dozen more. They would make it.
“Stop! Get off the stairs!” The shout came from below.
“Come on! We have to move!” Sulentis said from right behind her.
Telea legs burned as she ran up the stairs. Something cracked by her head and splinters of stone struck her face. She glanced below and saw two crossbowmen, one taking aim.
Think of shadows. You must focus.
I can’t! She shrank down next to the wall, her eyes still on the crossbowman. She saw him pull the trigger, but then a blast of wind whipped past her and sent the bolt into the wall above her head.
Two more men ran up the stairs behind them. “Keep going!” Sulentis shouted. There was a crash behind her and the sound of falling stone. The stairs shook, and she looked over her shoulder. Sulentis was there, coming after her. Just behind him, four stairs had collapsed, falling into the alleyway. The first of the guards balked at the gulf facing him.
They climbed higher. The two crossbowmen shot again, but Sulentis drove the bolts off. They’d almost made the parapet when a guard appeared above them. He held a poleaxe in both hands.
“Move aside,” Sulentis ordered.
The guard lowered his weapon at them. “Surrender.”
Sulentis squeezed past Telea and climbed a few more steps until he was just out of reach of the axe. He raised his hand and moved his fingers and Telea saw music gather around him. It looked as if he was singing the high air, but there was no sound. The colors, though a different pattern than she had ever seen, were clearly the same as those she saw in song.
Then she saw him throw the music at the guard. The song formed a tight funnel and struck the man in the chest, throwing him back, just as she had seen with the other guard.
Elementar magic and the magic of song are one and the same. She saw it more clearly now than she had before. She gasped at the thrill of her discovery.
They are poison, the voice said inside her. She pushed it away.
They ran up the last few stairs. There was a tower to their left, the door ajar. Sulentis took a few steps but then stopped and bent over. Sweat poured from his brow, and he breathed deeply, as if he had just run a long sprint. The guard lay stunned on the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Telea asked.
“Out of practice.” He waved her closer to the crenellations. Far below, she heard the crossbowmen calling up to the tower, warning them. “Time to leave.”
He looked out over the edge. “Same as before,” he said. She joined him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close with his left arm. The drop was much further than before, and this time it ended in the lake-like moat.
“Can you do it?” she asked. He seemed exhausted.
“I don’t have a choice. Ready? Jump!”
They leapt from the tower. They fell much faster this time, though the wind still rushed up to greet them. Telea saw the music around them and the way Sulentis curled and twisted the wind to cushion them. But as they fell, the magic of his song grew weaker. They hit the water with a tremendous splash.
There were shouts above them. Telea struggled to stay afloat in the long robe. New colors sprang up as Sulentis plucked at the magic of song with only his hands and his will. The colors filled the water, buoying them up and then propelling them across the wide moat. Something splashed in the water near them. It might have been a crossbow bolt, but if it was, no more followed.
Sulentis’s music pushed them all the way across the moat, but as soon as their feet touched the bottom, it stopped. He sagged beside her, and now it was her turn to support him. The bottom of the moat was muddy, clinging to her shoes and calves and slowing them. Sulentis was too weak to stand and finally had to crawl. Telea supported him as best she could, her arm burning with pain where Haran had cut her. They dragged themselves to the edge of a ripe wheat field.
“What do we do now?” she asked. “They’ll come for us soon.”
“I’m too weak. I shouldn’t have broken the stone.” He paused to catch his breath. “I should have just thrown him off.”
“We shouldn’t kill when there are other means.”
“It might cost us our lives.” He took a deep breath. “Damn. I spent my magic frivolously.”
“Where do we go next?”
“I have a friend in a village very close to here. He’ll have horses for us.” Sulentis struggled to sit up. “He’ll have heard the alarm and have the horses ready.” He got to his knees but couldn’t stand.
Telea cleared her voice. She could help. She had to, if she could. Taking a deep breath, she let out a long deep water note. Warmth spread over her as the deep blues of the song gathered around her. She smiled even as she sang.
Without warning, she choked and couldn’t breathe. Stop. You’re hurting me. I won’t let you cast me out.
I must heal him, she replied. I must sing for him or we will all die.
There was a pause, and then the demon said, Sing for him, but if you turn your song upon me I will stop you. You will regret it.
Telea’s heart thudded in her chest. How much power did the demon have over her? How long until it took her completely?
I agree, she thought. I won’t turn my song on you.
When the demon didn’t reply she took a breath and started the Song of Life.
The song is death, the demon said, but it did nothing to stop her.
Telea turned her song on Sulentis, letting the music wash over him. He stared at her, wide-eyed and smiling. “Wonderful! Wonderful! I thought only your companion could sing.”
She didn’t reply but stayed in the song, strengthening it with every note. She resisted the urge to sing with all her voice, for fear of attracting attention.
Even as she sang, she considered changing tunes—switching to the Song of Light.
Do not try to harm me. I will stop you. Listen, Creature of Forsvar, I can teach you. I can teach of everything you need to know about—
I don’t want to know what you can teach me. It’s vile.
I can help you. I can cloak you with shadows. I can hide you from harm. We can do great things.
Sulentis stood and stretched out a hand to her. “Your magic is wonderful. You truly are a healer? Those demons you summoned—”
“Were out of desperation,” Telea said, stopping her song. She took his hand and let him raise her to her feet. “I’m a healer. I know some of the chants the summoners use. I only use them for healing though. At least, I only did before....”
“We do what we have to. Come, let’s get to my friend before they send men out the gate.”
Weighed down by sodden clothes, they trudged through the thick stalks of wheat towards the lights of the village. Her clothes weighed heavily on her, and her arm throbbed from where Haran had cut it. She took off the scholar’s robes. They were just too heavy and burdensome. When she took off the robes she saw blood flowing from under the rag Sulentis had bound around it.
“We don’t have time to treat it,” Sulentis said, regret in his voice. He cut away a section of the robes and used them to wrap her wound. “We’ll take care of it as soon as we can.”
“I’ll be fine for now,” Telea said. “I can do a healing later if I must.” She doubted the words as soon as she said them. She’d need rest first, and who knew when that might come? And what of the demon in her? Would it even allow a healing?
Behind them the alarms still rang. She looked over her shoulder towards the city gates. They would be coming soon, and when they did, there would be no hope of escape.
“This way,” Sulentis said as they p
assed the nearest cottages. There were people out on the street, staring off towards the city.
“What’s going on?” someone asked as they passed. A farmer, Telea thought. The man, distracted by the distant bells seemed not to notice Telea’s appearance. She’d come to expect it from every Saladoran she met.
“A fire,” Sulentis said, without stopping. “Fire in the city.”
“But that’s an alarm.”
Sulentis didn’t reply. He took Telea by the elbow, propelling her towards a large building. The three story stone house had a sign out front with a goose painted upon it. An inn, she realized. There was a walled courtyard behind the building and a stable there.
From further up the street three riders appeared. Sulentis’s grip tightened on Telea’s arm. “Hurry,” he said. They ran the final paces into the courtyard. Six saddled horses stood there, three with heavy bags across their saddles. A man stood by the closest horse. Even in the dark, Telea saw the glint of armor and the dark shield he wore on his arm. A mail coif covered his head.
“I was worried when I heard the alarm,” he said by way of greeting.
“For good reason,” Sulentis said. He nodded to the horses. “Well done. We must go.”
“This is the elementar you went to save?”
“Not exactly. This is Telea from the Empire of Belen. We’ll explain later. We have to leave—there are horsemen coming.” Sulentis waved his hand towards the other man. “Telea, this is Escalan.”
“Take this horse,” Escalan said to her. He wasn’t a tall man, though he was broad shouldered and wore his armor easily. He had sharp features, but she couldn’t make out much more in the dark. “You can ride?” he asked.
“I’m no expert,” she said, “but I can ride.”
He cupped his gauntleted hands for her to step into and lifted her into the saddle. The horse was tall, not a small riding horse, but a destrier. She glanced at Sulentis and wondered what kind of scholar could afford six fine horses.
Sulentis pulled himself into the saddle. “I’ve used myself up, Escalan,” he said. “I’ll be of little help.”
The leads of the three packhorses were tied together and then to Sulentis’s saddle. Escalan led them as they turned their horses toward the gate.
A man, the innkeeper by his looks, came out a back door. “You’re certain you’ll be leaving now? Ah, your friends are here. Why not stay for the night? Who knows what the alarm is about?”
“Thank you, but we must go,” Escalan said. He pulled his helm over his head.
Before they could leave, the three riders from the street rode in the courtyard gate. “What’s happening here?” one of the riders demanded. “Who are you?”
“Just travelers,” Escalan said. “Getting an early start on our journey.”
“I am the sheriff of this village. Where did you two come from?” he asked, motioning towards Sulentis and Telea. The courtyard was dark, lit only by the light coming from the inn’s windows. Despite the darkness Telea saw that the sheriff wore mail and had a sword at his waist. The other two riders wore aketons and one had a crossbow.
“We heard the alarm and went to see what had passed,” Sulentis said. “We were just returning to the inn.”
“They aren’t guests here,” the innkeeper said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You’ll stay where you are,” the sheriff said.
“Escalan,” Sulentis said. “We must go.”
Escalan nodded. “Sheriff, you are a good man just doing your job. So it will bring me little pleasure killing you and your men. But that is what I’ll do if you don’t let us pass.”
The sheriff paused, clearly thinking of how he might reply. He had two men with him, but Escalan wore a coat of plates and carried a shield.
“You’ll shoot that bolt into the ground and give me your crossbow,” Escalan said. “I’ll leave it at the edge of the village for you.”
The crossbowman looked to the sheriff who fidgeted in his saddle. The third man put his hand to his sword, but even as he did so, his horse shied away.
They didn’t want to fight. Telea saw it clearly. It was one thing to wear armor and carry a weapon. It was another to face death at the hands of someone who clearly knew his business.
“Enough, Escalan. Kill them,” Sulentis said.
The sheriff put up his hands. “We yield. I don’t even know what this is about.”
“The city watch will explain it.”
“Loose that bolt,” Escalan said, edging his horse forward.
The man aimed the crossbow away from them and pulled the trigger. The bolt dug deep into the ground. Escalan took the crossbow and ordered the three men to back off.
Sulentis waved for Telea to follow, and they cantered down the street and then out of the village. Escalan looked over his shoulder and tossed the crossbow deep into a wheat field.
“How much trouble are we in?” Escalan asked as they cantered along the dirt road.
“More than we’ve ever been in before,” Sulentis said.
“How many will they send after us?”
“All of them.”
Escalan nodded. His gaze swept their surroundings. It was just fields and scattered villages lit by a moon that had just emerged from behind a cloudbank. “We don’t have much of a lead.”
“We’ll ride through the night,” Sulentis said. “Our horses are fresh, and we’re well supplied. The first pursuers don’t even know we are mounted.”
They rode quickly and soon came upon another village. There were a few people out, all looking towards the city. The alarm bells had stopped now, or they were too far away to hear. “What’s happening in the city?” one man asked.
“A fire,” Sulentis said as they rode past.
“But they’ve lit the beacons,” the man called from behind them. Sulentis gave no reply.
“We’re letting everyone know which direction we’ve taken,” Escalan said.
“Speed is our friend right now.”
“They’ll know we’ve gone for Landomere. We could bring war to them.”
“We won’t be there long. And then, for good or ill, things will be resolved.” Sulentis rode slumped in his saddle. Telea saw the fatigue weighing on him.
“You heard me tell Duke Braxus what’s happening in Belen,” Telea said to Sulentis as they left the village. “Will you go there? Will you help me bring Forsvar?”
Escalan gave Sulentis a sharp look.
Sulentis shook his head in reply. “I want to hear your tale in full. But, yes, I think something must be done. If your story is true, we’re all in peril.”
Despite their circumstances, Telea’s spirits rose. She’d found an elementar, and he would help—she was certain she could convince him. But would it be enough? Their mission had to bring an elementar, Forsvar, and the Orb of Creation.
“There’s a rider coming up behind us. Two of them,” Escalan said.
“Faster now,” Sulentis said. “No stopping.”
They pushed their horses as hard as they dared. When Telea glanced over her shoulder, she couldn’t see any pursuers, although she was certain they were out there. They started up a long, shallow hill.
At the crest of the hill, Sulentis rose high on his stirrups and gave a long, hard look behind them. He glanced around more quickly and then called out, “Follow me.”
They slowed their pace, and then Sulentis led them off the road. There was a forest here, and he led them into it. They rode well out of sight of the road, and then slowed to a walk. After a short time Sulentis stopped them near a shallow stream. He sagged in his saddle and took some deep breaths.
“You need rest,” Escalan said.
“We can’t rest. Not for a long time yet.”
“You’ll fall from the saddle.”
“Then tie me onto it. Let’s change horses here. They won’t know where we left the road.” Sulentis dismounted and Telea followed his example.
“They’ll know soon enough,” Escalan said a
s he dismounted. “The village of Paronas is just ahead, and they’ll know we haven’t passed.”
“There’s nothing to be done for it. Let’s switch the packs.”
They transferred the saddlebags from the spare horses and then watered all of the horses at the stream. “Drink. Eat something,” Escalan said. “We have to keep our strength up.” He offered Sulentis and Telea each some jerked beef.
“I can help,” Telea said.
“How?” Escalan said. “What can you do?”
Telea ignored the scorn in his question. “Each voice has its purpose. Water singers bring succor to their friends.”
“Each voice? You are going to sing to us?” Escalan scoffed.
“There’s magic in Belenese songs,” Sulentis said. “How does it work?” he asked her.
There was a water flask on her saddle, and Telea took a long draught. “Like this,” she said. She let out cleansing breath and then launched into the Song of Hope. The aura of music surrounded her, and she let it fill her before sending it to Sulentis and Escalan.
Escalan’s frown of doubt disappeared as the aura touched him. He grinned and nodded at Sulentis, who smiled in reply. Telea let the music grow and sent it to the horses as well. They looked up from their feedbags and watched her.
It had been too long since she had truly sung. Was it in the mountains, clinging to the side of the cliff? Even there, she hadn’t been able to sing as she could.
She wanted to give herself entirely to the song but held herself back. How far away were the nearest pursuers? She didn’t dare risk bringing them on her.
Telea let the song trail off after four verses. The Song of Hope was a song of restoration of body and spirit. It was the most important of the water songs.
Escalan applauded her as the last notes died away. “There was magic in that. I’ve never heard singing that beautiful.”
“I saw it,” Sulentis said. “You touched the aether and restored me.”
“Just as I saw you touch music when you knocked down the guard,” she replied.
Sulentis had a broad grin on his face. “So much makes sense now. The ancient texts speak of elementars going into battle supported by singers. I didn’t know the purpose before.”