The SoulNecklace Stories

by R. L. Stedman

  “We’re on hard turf now,” Will said. “Hoof prints won’t show so well.”

  Jed shook his head. “A good tracker will still follow us.” He turned in his saddle, looked back behind us. The sky, the land were empty. “They’re still far behind. Let’s look for a river. They can’t follow our tracks through water.”

  “Maybe they’ve stopped?” I said, hopefully.

  Will shook his head. “I doubt that. This moor will be as good as a highway to them. They’ll have spare horses; they swap mounts to keep them fresh. The only thing we can hope for is to hide.”

  My stomach twisted, and for a moment it felt hard to breathe. What would happen when they reached us? I hoped they would kill me quickly. Would they use spears, or swords to do it?

  “Or move faster.” Jed looked at my face. “Cheer up, Princess. You’re not dead yet. Will and I have out-run these folk before, you know.”

  “One moment.” N’tombe unlaced a clinking leather pouch from her saddle. Upending it, she poured coins and gems into her cupped hand. The gold gleamed in the sunlight. “I must give you this. In case we become separated.”

  Jed caught his breath. “A King’s ransom here, lady.”

  “It is pretty, yes?”

  Carefully, Jed picked a gemstone from the small pile. A square-cut diamond, it seemed to have an orange hue. Or maybe that was the gold, reflecting in its faces. “You have had these with you, all along?”

  She nodded. “The Guardian gave them to me before we left.” She wrapped her fingers around the handful of coins and precious stones and pressed her fist into Jed’s palm. “For you.”

  He stared at her. “Me?”

  “We may be parted. Who knows? If that happens, you will need this coin.”

  He shook his head. “No. No.”

  But she opened her fingers and the money poured into his palm. Reflexively, he closed his hand around it.

  “Do you have a bag?” she asked.

  He touched a piece of gold with a finger. “Ain’t never held so much coin.”

  “A bag, Jed?”

  “Ah. Yes. Yes.” He untied a pouch from his own saddle, poured the money and jewels into it. He swallowed as he tied it back on. “Don’t think I’ll need it though,” he muttered, as if to himself. “Can’t see us getting separated.” He pushed back his hat and stared at N’tombe with bright eyes. “Is that what you see?”

  She didn’t answer the question, just gathered up her reins and kicked her horse. “Let’s ride.”

  We reached the edge of the moor by afternoon. Below lay a steep, forested valley. Walking slowly, heel-toe, heel-toe, the horses tripped their way down the hill. Water trickled beside us, forming muddy ponds.

  Jed scratched his forehead with a dirty fingernail. “Best follow the stream.”

  The horses splashed their way downhill. Out of the wind the sun felt warm, and soon the horses shone with sweat. Turning awkwardly in the saddle, I stared behind us. The ridgeline remained clear.

  Gradually, the watercourse widened as it flowed toward the trees. It was a relief when we finally walked beneath their branches – I felt hidden, less of a target. The air grew cooler.

  N’tombe sucked in her breath. “We need to move.”

  “Where are they?” asked Jed.

  “Following our trail,” she said, “and coming fast.”

  We traveled downstream, not speaking. The tree branches met over the waterway, obscuring the sky. All I could see were faint wisps of dust-colored cloud. It was hard to sit so calmly, yet there was no point in rushing; the ground was too uneven to move quickly.

  The banks of the river widened, flattening to gray shingle. Ferns grew in the river bank, tree roots tangled in the edges. They looked like ancient bones. Dimly, I heard a roar of rushing waters, far ahead. Rapids.

  “Ah. Now, the land changes.” N’tombe sounded relieved. She turned to Jed. “You must go on.”

  Jed stared at her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Listen to me!” she said impatiently, “You and Will – you must keep going.”

  What was she talking about? She had said nothing of us parting. We all stared at her.

  “You want us to go ahead?” asked Will, uncertainly.

  “Jed and Will must lead the army. But do not fear – they will not be able to follow you. Jed, watch the trail carefully; be wary. And take your weapons.”

  “You want us to go on foot?” said Will.

  “At first you may ride, but with caution. Later, yes, then you will need to lead your horses. Trust your instinct. There will be a path.”

  “You got nothing else to tell us, save to send us away?” Jed asked.

  She glared at him.

  “Lady. I trust you. You know I do. Please. You must tell us more than that.”

  “Jed. Do as I say.” She stretched a hand toward him. “Old friend. You were the first to speak to me when I came to this world. Did you know that? I was reeling with the strangeness of this place. I felt as though I was walking through a nightmare. Then I met you. You smiled, remember? Please, trust me now.”

  “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? When you gave me that coin?”

  “It was a possibility, no more.”

  “A possibility,” he muttered. “Seems like foretelling to me.” His blue eyes sparked. “If you can see the future, tell me. The lad and me – will we be safe?”

  “You will both be safe. Make for the coast, for the inn.”

  “An inn, is it?” He smiled briefly. “That’s not prophecy. That’s a certainty – always an inn in my future. Come, Will. Seems we’re to be the vanguard, you and I.”

  I stretched for Will’s reins, trying to hold him back. He touched my cheek gently. His fingers were rough. “So long, Princess.” He tugged his hat brim down to hide his eyes and turned to follow Jed. As they passed under the trees they seemed to vanish into dappled light.

  “Dana! Come.”

  I pressed my heels to the chestnut’s side. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Always,” she said.

  Our rough track wound about gnarled, low-growing oaks, passed around lichen-specked boulders. N’tombe seemed certain of her path.

  “I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it be safer if we were all together?”

  She said nothing. I stared at her back, so upright and small in the saddle. She still moved like a block on horseback. It was not fair! Why did she always split us up? I thought of the pond, and Will’s hands on my thighs and shivered. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps she worried we might become too … friendly. Don’t be silly. There’s an army behind us. I’m sure she’s more worried about that than Will and I being together. But still, I wondered.

  On this surface we would leave no tracks, but it was hard going for the horses. My mare stumbled, threw me forwards onto her neck. I patted her gently. She tipped an ear, either in apology or in warning.

  N’tombe passed a gray rock. “In here.”

  Smothered in ferns and lichen, at first it looked just like a stone outcropping. But then I saw the narrow hole that marked the cave.

  “The horses can rest here,” N’tombe said.

  But the animals had other ideas. My chestnut baulked at entering the cave’s darkness and N’tombe’s gelding tossed his head angrily.

  “Dana, can you help?”

  Dismounting, I placed my hands gently over my horse’s eyes, closing my own, so as to see the world through her senses. To the animal, the world arched about her, spinning, and oh, how anxious she was: the shadows, the movement of the trees, the rustling of the ferns in a sudden whispered wind. A herd animal, bred for speed, perpetually wary. But not of me. To her, I was the center of the world; her leader. She would follow me through fire, and worse. Did I deserve such trust?

  I threw a cloak of black across her vision and walked backwards into the cave. Obediently, she followed. The gelding trailed behind.

  “Thank you.” N’tombe sounded grateful.

>   High enough to stand upright in, the cave stretched into blackness. The ground underfoot was broken with stones of varying height and pitch. N’tombe pulled the packs from the horses, dumped them near the rough opening.

  “What is this place?” The whisper sighed upwards, echoing off broken rock.

  “Can you not tell?”

  “There’s something.” A feeling of waiting, of suspense. Of being apart, and yet within. I stood in the dim light of the doorway and felt foolish. I was imagining it. There was nothing.

  “No.” She sounded annoyed. “Feel with your heart.”

  I shut my eyes, restricting my vision as I’d done with the horse, to the golden light that leapt from all living things; a web of energy, shared by all creatures. N’tombe flared like a torch against the cave’s darkness. Her light shimmered as she placed nosebags of oats over the heads of the horses. The cave felt like an emptiness. Void.

  “You feel it, then?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” I was too worried to care about the inside of a cave. “What have you done with Will?”

  “He’s the hare to draw the hounds.”

  “You’ve set Will and Jed as bait?”

  “The land changes,” she said, cryptically.

  “You can’t! There’s an army coming. I saw them – there’s hundreds, horsed and weaponed. You can’t leave Jed and Will to run loose in front of that mass of men, while we hide in this cave.”

  I wouldn’t be the princess who sat in a tower, watching men kill themselves over her.

  “Dana! Put down your weapons.”

  I snatched my hand guiltily from the tops of my knives. “I should be with him.”

  “You need to be here,” she said. “Sit down. Calm your mind, child. You’re floundering like a fish pulled from water.”

  The beads on my wrist stirred, as if in agreement.

  I stomped to the side of the doorway, plonked down onto a rock. “All right. I’m sitting. What do you need to tell me?”

  N’tombe squatted beside me. “What do you feel?”

  “Nothing,” I said, crossly. “Just you and the horses.”

  “There are a few places in the world that can only be found by noticing things that are not. This cave is one such place.”

  “Like a break in the gold?”

  “Is that how you see the world? Golden light? That must be very pretty.”

  I wasn’t about to talk about esthetic views of the world. “Why are you doing this?”

  N’tombe touched my bracelet gently. “Dana, I cannot fight that many magicians. You know that.”

  “This cave. They can’t see it, can they?”

  Her breath brushed my cheek like a puff of wind. “That is right. It is a no-place. A good place for hiding.”

  “So why did you send Will ahead?”

  “Their trail pulls the army onwards. Their magic workers will be straining to guide the army to their prey, but they will not see us, lurking in the cave like bats.” She stood up. “I need to weave a net, child. Watch for me.”

  She settled onto her saddlebags. In the dim light of the cave she seemed to be reclining on a sofa. Her breathing calmed in a most irritating fashion. I was to squat on a rocky, dusty cave floor while my tutor drowsed and Will fled into danger? Such inaction is not my way. I did not want to be hiding in this dry darkness while outside an army searched for Will.

  But N’tombe danced to drums I could not hear and to go against her wishes would be foolish. I sighed. I would have to do as she said; watch over her, wait and hope.

  Crossly, I gathered up my own saddlebags and settled onto them, trying to pretend that I was not in a dry and dusty cave but on my bed; that the hazy light above me was filtered through curtains, not forest leaves. N’tombe breathed heavily and stirred, the horses munched and sighed, and a light breeze blew through the forest outside. Somewhere, a brook trickled. Inside the cave all was quiet. It was as though this place existed outside of normal time.

  I did not mean to sleep, but sleep found me nonetheless. Abruptly, I began to dream.

  If I had been aware that I was dreaming, ah, then I would have roused myself. But at first I didn’t even realize I was sleeping; in my dream I sat on stiff leather, in a dim cave. N’tombe’s sighing breath, the swish of the horse’s tail were unchanged. Boring. Thoughtlessly, I pushed myself out of the cave, into the golden-green light of the trees. I did not see my body, asleep below. In my dream, I was not aware of any separation.

  Silently I traveled back along our trail, found the place where we’d entered the stream and up the grassy slope, back to the edge of the heath. I stared east across the moorlands. I was looking for something. I didn’t know what.

  In real life, one thing happens after another, in sequence. The distance between two points always takes the same time to travel, regardless of whether the travel is dull or exciting. We know this, because we section up time, measuring it by the movement of shadow, or the passing of sand through a glass. Yet, we know also that some days fly past, while others linger. So it is with a dream. In a dream, perception becomes reality.

  In front of me the heather stretched wide as a sea, broken only by the tracks of small animals. A track, darker and fresher than the others marked the trail of our passage. Far in the distance, a cloud of dust hung across the horizon. It looked like smoke. The army!

  As I watched, the sky turned gray. Thick clouds gathered and grew, heaving and lifting as though the very air was about to boil. Spiraling upwards, birds called in harsh voices. Grass hissed like a raging sea. And out of the darkness came the army; a horde of men and horses, dark as night’s underbelly, pouring toward me across the moorlands. With a sudden shock, the wind struck. The air smelt of snow.

  I turned, flew back toward the forest. Behind me, tumbling down the steep rocks, came the soldiers. I tucked myself behind a boulder.

  These were not ordered ranks of legionaries. Their dark eyes gleamed, their braids tossed in the wind. They were well-armed; curved swords hung at their sides and they wore quivers and bows across their chest. They were dressed in vests of chain mail; their helmets were topped with bright spikes. Packs hung at their saddle bows and they called to each other with deep voices.

  All the soldiers had known hardship; their faces were lean and haggard, encrusted with grime. Many bore scars. Their smell was overwhelming; a pungent mix of horses and sweat and layers on layers of filth. At the front of the army rode the scouts. Smaller than the others, they were less encumbered and lightly clad. They did not seem to notice me.

  At the forest’s edge, where the ground was smooth, the army moved fast through the trees, flitting from light to shade like gaunt ghosts. But as the slope increased and the rocky ground was damp and slippery their pace slowed.

  The scouts found our tracks easily. It seemed to take them no time at all to find where we left the water. But they didn’t notice the path N’tombe and I had made – instead, they gestured in the direction Will and Jed had taken.

  It was like being at a hunt, at the moment when the dogs have a clear scent. The soldiers shouted to their horses, kicked at their hollow flanks. “Go faster!” they seemed to say. Hundreds of men rushed eagerly down the steep slope, out of the forest, into a clearing.

  Far below lay distant plains, dotted with houses and crossed with thick hedges. The sun was setting, and in the low light it looked like a golden counterpane. The army saw all this, saw the land opening up and the peaceful world below. In the light of evening, this far-off land appeared rich, prosperous and unfortified. Easy to conquer, and easy to reach, for hill seemed to continue on, toward the farms and the villages.

  The soldiers pointed, calling to each other. They did not watch their feet, and they did not watch for rocks or obstacles in their path. They paid no mind to the land about them. The land that changed, abruptly, suddenly, with no warning at all.

  Laughing and singing, the scouts were at the front; the infantry and officers behind. Their tossing hair min
gled with their horse’s manes. For a moment they seemed to hang, suspended; a crowd of men bathed in sunlight, aglow with purpose. If they had not been hunting my friends, the sight would have been glorious.

  Time snapped back. The host swarmed forward. They were too fast. At the forest’s edge, red cliffs stretched, sheer, to the plains below. And the army, reckless in their riding, charged over the edge.

  Following behind them, I halted. It seemed as much like a dream as any I had ever had; the horde of men, galloping from the forest, into the clearing and with barely a pause, dropping like stones in the empty air.

  The singing stopped.

  Men cried. Horses screamed, cries of sudden surprise, of anguish and despair. Desperately, they wrestled empty air, sought firm ground. Too late. Men and horses together tumbled, falling like puppets.

  Far below, they landed on sharp rocks, broken.

  Chapter Six

  The Dark Man

  I watched as the men fell. Saw them clutch at the empty air, screaming, searching for something, anything, to hold on to. What had N’tombe done? What had I done? It was my tracks, set so plainly in the heather that had led them here. Yet this army had to be stopped, before it could destroy other towns, other lives.

  Heartsick, I turned away. And realized - not all the soldiers had fallen over the escarpment. The rear-guard had managed to rein their horses in, just in time. But horses are creatures of instinct; their custom is to stay with the herd. Their heads tossed, their tails swung, they wanted to follow their herdmates to destruction. They fought their riders and their riders fought them. None of them noticed me. To them, I was invisible. A ghost.

  I rested a hand against a tree. Its trunk was hard and creased like the skin of an old man. In the dreamlight it looked like a tower of gold.

  I heard a cough and a harsh voice, speaking strange words. Behind the tree, more men on horseback regarded the army’s destruction. Unlike the rearguard, they appeared calm, almost oblivious to the death about them. One of the riders lifted his hand, brushed the mane of his horse. The man’s hand! My heart paused. Those fingernails! Long and curved and tipped with bronze, they seemed more like talons, or knives than the tips of a man’s hand. These nails meant one thing - a magician.