The Stone of Mercy

by M. J. Evans

  “Yes, I do, Higson,” she said. “I need your help now more than ever. I don’t understand any of this, and I’m frightened.”

  “To tell you the truth, Carling,” her friend said, “it scares me, too. It scares me a lot!”

  Chapter 11

  Adivino

  The old Centaur stood by his desk. He dipped his quill pen in the little bottle of ink and carefully formed the letters of the Centaur alphabet. Slowly and beautifully the words took shape under his hand, adding to the Centaurian history. Today, he was continuing the account of the conflict that was erupting between the Minsheen herd and the Heilodius herd. At one time, they had been united as a strong and beautiful race. But that had been when there was peace in the land. Those days were gone as the faction that desired to rule the land separated itself from the Minsheen. The Heilodius herd had taken upon themselves the name of the mountain from which the rightful ruler of the land would one day govern. But they, along with all the other races, had been unable to maintain control as they fought against the Cyclops and Ogres, who also desired to hold the throne of leadership atop Mount Heilodius.

  The members of the Minsheen herd who continued to wait and watch for the promised bearer of the silver breastplate, the rightful ruler of the land, tried to remain out of the battles, taking up arms only when it was necessary to defend themselves. The Heilodius herd mocked and belittled them for putting their faith in myths and legends. The split in the Centaur race saddened the Minsheen as they watched their brothers participate in the conflict for power. It was a heartbreaking story that Adivino, the keeper of the records, was now writing.

  The historian’s pen suddenly stopped scratching on the scroll. “I’ve been expecting you, Vidente,” Adivino said, having sensed the Wizard’s presence without turning around.

  “Ah, my old friend. I am glad to see you,” responded Vidente warmly.

  The Centaur turned and stepped forward, extending both arms. For a moment their hands touched, palm to palm, and Adivino felt a warm current flow through him.

  “Is the queen beginning her quest?” he asked. “Is it time?”

  “Yes. It is time,” replied the Wizard, his voice lacking enthusiasm.

  Adivino cocked his head. “Why so down in the mouth? I would think this was cause for celebration.”

  “I just worry that we may be placing too much on the shoulders of one so young.”

  “What would you have me do to assist her?”

  “I need two young, strong Centaurs to carry the future queen on her journeys.”

  The old Centaur nodded. “Do you need them for their speed, protection, or wisdom?”

  “All of those qualities, Adivino. All of them.”

  “Will you at least tell me who the queen is that I may make the correct selection?”

  “It is the Duende named Carling. And she will be accompanied by her friend Higson.”

  “A Duende?” Adivino was surprised. Quickly processing this new information, he nodded. “The Duende are a noble race to be sure. And Carling certainly seems to have the qualities of a leader. Though she is still so young….” He let the rest of his thought hang in the air while rubbing his ink-stained hands on his apron.

  Gathering control of his thoughts, he said, “Yes. Yes, of course. That makes perfect sense. The brave and beautiful Carling. While I did not anticipate the queen would come from the Duende race, this makes perfect sense indeed. And Higson is a very impressive young man as well.” He paused and gazed up toward the ceiling of his charming little cottage. “Well,” he said after a time, “that tells me who I should send on this perilous journey.”

  Chapter 12

  The Quest Begins

  The next morning, Carling was awakened by the birds and squirrels scolding one another in the trees. The early morning sun was painting the eastern sky a bright pink. But none of nature’s beauty around her stopped the memory of her parents’ death from crushing her. The weight of it made her feel small, weak, insignificant. She pulled the blankets over her head to make a cocoon to shield her from the world. She remained there a long time. Finally, getting her labored breathing and pounding heart under control, she stretched her tired body. Pushing back the blankets and turning her head, Carling let her gaze rest upon the silver breastplate, the object that filled her with such varied and extreme emotions. She had never imagined herself as anything but a weaver’s daughter, a citizen of the village of Duenton. She had never desired power or riches or even the honors of men. She wanted nothing more than to continue the life into which she had been born…except, perhaps, a little more time to go hunting in the forest with Higson.

  Now her life had completely changed. Her parents were gone and, in her mind, it was her fault. In addition, a Wizard had come into her life, telling her she was to become the queen of Crystonia. She continued gazing at the silver breastplate, the tangible proof that all of this was real. She couldn’t just write it off as a very bad dream. But even in the presence of the breastplate, the sixteen-year-old Duende found the truth it reflected impossible to comprehend.

  She tried to gather her thoughts and focus on the task at hand: to complete the queen’s breastplate by finding the four stones of light. The Wizard named Vidente had given her information on just one of the stones, the Stone of Mercy. So, for today, that was what she needed to concentrate on. Yes, today was a new day in every way. Today, she needed to begin the quest to find the Stone of Mercy.

  She grabbed her leather pack and began removing items she wouldn’t need. The pack was old and well-worn and covered with streaks of black ash from the fire, a constant reminder of her sorrow. She grabbed her bow and quiver and hung them on the sides of her pack, in easy reach in case she needed them. She made a mental note to remind Higson to bring his weapon along as well.

  The packing was completed quickly, for she had very little to take. Carling washed and dressed just as quickly. She paused and gazed at her reflection in the little mirror hanging on the wall. Strange, she thought as she brushed her wavy auburn hair. I look just the same. But I certainly don’t feel the same. She turned away from the mirror and stepped over to the breastplate. As soon as she reached down to pick it up, it opened along the sides of its own accord. Clearly, it knew its owner.

  She placed it on her body. Carling felt a strange sensation as the breastplate melted against her and latched itself. Perhaps she felt taller, maybe a bit bolder, and clearly safer. However she chose to describe the feeling, she liked it. She caressed the silver carvings that now covered her body and smiled to herself.

  The young Duende pulled herself out of her self-diagnosis long enough to cover the breastplate with a pale green tunic. Not even Higson’s parents knew about the breastplate, and she had the overwhelming feeling that it should remain that way for their own safety. She carried her pack through the main room of the farmhouse and placed it just outside the front door. Then she quietly shut the door and turned back into the house.

  Just as Carling entered the kitchen and began greeting Higson’s family, the sound of pounding hooves approaching the cabin filled the room. This was followed by a knock on the front door of the quaint little cottage. Two Centaurs greeted Higson when he opened the door.

  “Hello, Hero Higson,” said Tibbals with a giggle, her arms opened wide, her eyes sparkling. “My brother, Tandum, and I have been sent by the leaders of our herd to help you.”

  “Find the stone?” answered Higson with surprise.

  “Well, they didn’t exactly tell us what you needed,” Tibbals answered, “just that we are to help you. So if you need to find some sort of stone, we’ll help you do that.”

  Higson’s parents looked back and forth at their visitors and one another but said nothing. They seemed to know, by their silence, that things were changing and Higson and Carling were to be a part of it. Discreetly, they stepped out of the room.

  At that moment, Carling brushed past Higson. “Tibbals! I’m so excited to see you again.”

  T
ibbals reached down and wrapped her arms around Carling. “Oh, beautiful, wonderful Carling.” She stood back up and introduced her brother.

  Carling blinked, stunned by the handsome features of the Centaur colt standing before her. Tandum, unlike his palomino sister, was a glowing chestnut color, the hair of his head and his equine body the color of polished copper. His skin was darker than his sister’s but radiated the same youthful glow. His chest, though covered with a pale blue shirt, was obviously well muscled, as was his entire body. Duende men and boys, though kind and thoughtful and a bit handsome in their own way, were nothing like this! Carling couldn’t trust herself to speak.

  “It is certainly a pleasure to meet you,” Tandum said with a bow. “I regret missing the celebration that was held in your honor. But now, let’s get to the purpose of our visit. My father and one of our herd elders, Adivino, have sent us to help you with some special assignment you’ve been given.”

  Carling forced herself to pull her eyes away from Tandum and look over at Tibbals. “You don’t know what the assignment is?” she asked, remembering Vidente’s admonition. The last thing she wanted was to put Tibbals in danger.

  “Higson said something about finding a stone,” said Tibbals.

  Carling glanced over at Higson and raised her eyebrows. Her friend smiled sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.

  Tandum jumped in. “They didn’t tell us, it is true, but it doesn’t matter. After what you did for Tibbals and her friends, we will do anything for you.”

  A voice entered Carling’s head, a voice belonging to the Wizard. Show them.

  Carling opened her tunic, exposing the silver breastplate. Tibbals and Tandum gasped.

  “That is so beautiful. Where did you get it?” asked Tibbals, awe in her voice.

  “The Wizard of Crystonia gave it to me.”

  “Vidente?” asked Tandum. “You met the Wizard Vidente?”

  Carling nodded.

  “Could it be? I’ve heard about a silver breastplate….” He paused and his eyes opened wide as realization dawned. He stared at Carling, his mouth falling open. “You?”

  Carling nodded again. She could feel a deep blush spread over her face.

  Tibbals looked back and forth between the two. “So, is someone going to fill me in? Or are you going to let me remain oblivious?”

  “The bearer of the silver breastplate is the rightful ruler of the kingdom,” Tandum said, without taking his eyes off Carling. “Our herd has been waiting for its appearance for over a hundred years.”

  Tibbals caught her breath. “Carling? You?” For a moment, she just stared at her new friend. “Forgive me for being so surprised but you’re a…a…Duende!”

  “Don’t worry,” Carling said, looking down. “You aren’t nearly as surprised as I am.”

  “Wow. That makes this assignment much more interesting.” The filly reached down and placed a hand on either side of Carling’s face, lifting it up.

  Carling pointed to one of the holes in the breastplate. “I am to find the Stone of Mercy to place in the breastplate.”

  “Were you told where to find it?” asked Tandum.

  Higson stepped in. “Vidente said the eagle, Baskus, has been guarding the stone. Do you know where we can find him?”

  twinkled. “Let’s go visit Adivino. He is the wisest of all Centaurs. If anyone knows where to find Baskus, he will.”

  Tibbals took hold of one of Carling’s hands and pulled her out of the cottage. Carling grabbed her pack once they were out the door. The filly lifted Carling to her back as Tandum placed Higson on his. Carling noticed Higson’s bow and quiver full of arrows attached to his pack and smiled to herself. She didn’t need to remind Higson of anything. A feeling of gratitude for this life-long friend surged through her.

  The two Centaurs turned and cantered away from the little cottage. Just as she had done the first time she rode a Centaur, Carling looked back. She saw Higson’s parents watching them, a look of concern on their faces. She raised one hand a waved to them. She was filled with the awareness that her life would never be the same. The knowledge was painful. Slowly, and with much regret, she turned and faced the future.

  Chapter 13

  Meeting Adivino

  The companions entered the clearing that surrounded Adivino’s picturesque cottage. Round windows adorned the exterior. Flowering vines growing up the sides and along the roof added bright splashes of color. A large door, big enough for a Centaur, stood ajar. Once her Centaur friends came to a stop, Carling heard birds trilling in the flowering trees that surrounded the glade.

  The shimmering signs of spring did nothing to quell the storm clouds of emotion that were building inside Carling. Fear and doubt dominated but were mixed with a small amount of excitement and eagerness to test herself. She looked over at Higson, trying to read his expression. No Luck. Higson sat stoically upon Tandum’s back, his unblinking eyes looking directly ahead. His mouth was set in a straight line, his jaw firm.

  Just as the four approached the front of the cottage, a very old Centaur stepped out to greet them. He wore a broad smile on his heavily wrinkled face. His gray hair was unkempt, as though it hadn’t met a comb in several days. The muscles on his once-strong equine body now sagged from disuse. But the twinkle in his eyes told Carling his mind was still sharp.

  “Tibbals and Tandum, you’ve brought the infamous Carling and Higson to meet me. I couldn’t be more pleased,” he said, running his ink-stained fingers through his wild hair in a futile attempt to make himself more presentable.

  “Adivino,” said Tandum, “you sent us to help Carling with an important assignment.”

  Adivino nodded, the smile still on his face. “I did indeed. Tell me what help you need from me, my dear Carling,” he said as he stepped up beside Tibbals. The old Centaur looked directly into Carling’s eyes.

  Carling forced herself to return the gaze. “I have been sent by the Wizard Vidente to find the Stone of Mercy.”

  “Ah. The Stone of Mercy. A very valuable stone. Do you know the holder of that stone will become the possessor of a forgiving heart? Mercy is one of the qualities of a great and noble leader. He or she knows how to balance justice and mercy.” Adivino scratched the stubble on his chin and switched his thinning, gray tail. He patted her knee. “Yes, Carling, there is a time and a place for both. Neither should negate the other. The leader who forgets to be merciful becomes a tyrant, and her subjects suffer immensely.” He winked his right eye.

  “I will remember that. Thank you,” whispered Carling.

  Tandum, always efficient and focused, stepped up. “Adivino, the Wizard Vidente told Carling the eagle Baskus has been guarding the stone.”

  Adivino clapped his hands. “So, that’s where Vidente has hidden it! That clever old Wizard. I suppose I should have guessed. Baskus owes his life to Vidente, after all. But that’s another story.”

  “Do you know where we can find him?” asked Higson.

  “Not precisely. But I do know the eagle likes to build his nests in Manyon Canyon.”

  Tibbals gasped. “Manyon Canyon! That’s on the far side of Crystonia. It will take us two days to get there.”

  “The shortest way is through the Forest of Rumors and across the Echoing Plains,” advised Adivino.

  Tibbals glanced at her brother. “Will this be okay with Father?”

  Tandum brushed his sister’s question aside with the wave of a hand. “Father told us to fulfill the assignment,” he said. “And we will do whatever it takes to do so.”

  Carling looked from one Centaur to the other, her eyes wide with wonder. The thought of going to Manyon Canyon frightened her. Until this time, she had barely wandered outside the little village of Duenton. Her forays into the forest with Higson had been adventure enough. Then the day came when she was taken to visit the great Centaur city of Minsheen. She shook her head. That seemed like such a long time ago, and yet it had only been a few days. What a difference in a life a few days can make, she
thought to herself.

  Her thoughts returned to the present and she felt herself get tense. Here she was at a stranger’s cottage, being told she needed to travel a great distance through strange lands. She had heard many stories about the Forest of Rumors and Manyon Canyon, none of them good. She had been told of frightening creatures who inhabited the forest, a forest that was always dark. She had also heard stories of creatures who had entered Manyon Canyon and never returned…or did return, and were forever changed. Now they were to go to these foreboding places. She cocked her head and wondered why her companions’ only concern seemed to be the distance. Perhaps those were just silly stories, she told herself.

  Chapter 14

  The Forest of Rumors

  The sun was still new to the day when the adventurers set off for the Forest of Rumors. No one knew exactly how the forest had received its name…only a bunch of rumors surrounded it. But only Tandum had been to the densely wooded area before. That was with his father on group hunting expeditions. At that time, he had felt safe and protected by the stallions around him.

  The Forest of Rumors was the stuff of childhood nightmares: ancient trees that tore at your face and clothing, thick undergrowth that tried to pull you down, and unidentifiable sounds that came from all directions at once. As Carling approached it with the others, she was sure her friends felt the same amount of trepidation she did, but no one said anything.

  The beautiful, warm day disappeared the minute they entered the forest and were swallowed up by the thick canopy overhead and the ferns and vines that covered the ground. The entire forest smelled wet and musty, the air thick with humidity. At times, the forest would be silent, except for the sucking sounds as Tibbals and Tandum struggled to pull their hooves free of the mud. At other times, there would be sounds all around that caused the travelers to jump first one way, then the other. Carling took several deep breaths to try to calm her pounding heart. She wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her tunic.