Hunter's Moon

by D A Godwin

  They knew the sun would rise every day, didn’t they?

  Hush.

  “…the people beseeched Azaru for another, for who could worship all the stars? And given to us came Eluria, born of Azaru, the sun, and Iniach, the earth, to shine Her light and protect us from being swallowed by the dark.”

  Kayala studied their reactions as she spoke. Shalindra listened intently, absorbing everything. He paid every bit as much attention, not missing a single word, but with the skepticism of a non-believer. It mattered little—she had to reach through to the girl.

  “For an age, there was peace. Eluria’s followers grew across all the world, for who can deny Her wonderful influence? But every age comes to an end. The blood moon rose, and war raged throughout the land and the sky.

  “To protect those who worshipped her, Eluria chose from among her followers a special person, a Guardian. She armed her champion with a mystic hammer and armored her with a suit of silver mail, each forged by the ancient elves from metal delivered from the heavens. The first Guardian took up Her weapon to defend her people and see them through the chaos. Thus, it has always been that during times of peril, each…”

  Wouldn’t it make more sense to prevent the peril in the first place?

  I am trying to listen.

  “…we have seen such signs again. The Three Monkeys cast a ball of fire to streak across the heavens, and the moon shone red in the west for half its path. Portents such as those may occur thousands of years apart…”

  I didn’t see a red moon this year.

  I did, just before meeting you. Stop interrupting.

  “…but Her warning was clear. There are times when such revelations become known, and they must be acted upon. It was only a few days after the prophesized warning revealed their message to us that I found myself spiriting away some of our most precious relics. Yet even with all our precautions, we were pursued, and it seemed all would be lost. If not for assistance from those who walk the Sixfold Path…”

  Do you see what’s glowing behind her?

  I asked you to… by Eluria’s light, what is it?

  “…of those who began the journey, Marie and I are now the last…” Kayala stopped talking, painfully aware that both sets of eyes were focused on something behind her.

  “Forgive me, Sister,” Shalindra said. “But what is in that chest?”

  Kayala’s breath caught in her throat. Surely, Shalindra couldn’t see it, but the girl was looking in the right direction. Perhaps she could show them one of the other relics, not the relic. “This one? It contains one of the items that I must see safely to its new home. As I was saying…”

  “No,” Tormjere said curiously. “The other one behind it.”

  Kayala’s eyes widened. Could he see it too? That wasn’t possible. This was not going at all as she had planned. She hesitated, then bent down behind the chest and moved several smaller boxes aside. When she straightened, she held a long, thin box of plain wood bound in leather straps, which she sat on the table.

  Shalindra gave her a questioning look, then stepped forward and lifted the lid.

  Kayala held her breath as Shalindra reached into the case. If she had been wrong about the girl…

  Shalindra’s eyes lit up as she withdrew a small warhammer. A spherical ball, pure as the moon, was set between identical rounded heads. No spike or hook marred its almost delicate curves. Soft lines of silver traced simple but elegant patterns in the metal, and the smooth, round metal shaft ended in a leather wrapped handle.

  “Shining Moon,” Sister Kayala said with reverence. “The Guardian’s weapon.”

  “This is incredible,” Shalindra breathed.

  Kayala felt her control of the situation slipping away. She had never meant to show it to her. She had yet to even mention the actual prophecy, and what of the test? Was there still time? As Shalindra and Tormjere both studied the hammer, Kayala steadied herself and, with a silent prayer, reached for Shalindra’s mind. She felt it easily enough; it radiated with a strength that seemed out of place in one so small. She just needed to—

  Tormjere’s eyes snapped to hers suddenly, breaking her concentration and severing the mental link she had been building. Had he known what she was doing? Was that even possible?

  Shalindra handed Shining Moon to him.

  Too surprised to stop her, Kayala could only stare in mute panic as his fingers wrapped around the handle, but neither of the two noticed. She struggled to regain her composure. Eluria help her, this was all so wrong.

  “It’s impressive,” Tormjere agreed, and offered it to Kayala.

  Kayala dropped her eyes and took a half step back, arms firmly at her side. “I may not.”

  With a shrug, Tormjere passed it back to Shalindra. “Your guardian carried this?” he asked.

  Kayala nodded. “Yes. It is one of the most precious artifacts we possess, but few outsiders ever learn of its existence. Sisters of Eluria are guides and healers, friends to all and servants to none. We are neither warriors nor adventurers. Yet occasionally we have need of something—someone—more.” She looked at Shalindra and swallowed hard. “It has been over two hundred years since this was last brought forth. Yet I feel it more than coincidence that both it and you have found their way to me now.”

  “Where were you taking it?” Shalindra asked.

  “Fallhaven.”

  Shalindra looked at her in surprise. “Then we must help you see it safely to its home.”

  Kayala shook her head. “I believe it is already there,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes sought Shalindra’s. So impossibly blue, and so unbelievably strong. “Only the champion of Eluria may wield the hammer, as those who are unworthy cannot bear its touch.”

  Shalindra met her gaze, watching with concern as emotions cycled through the older cleric’s eyes. She could tell Kayala was unsettled, almost frightened by what was happening, and even a touch apologetic. They mirrored Shalindra’s own uncertainties, and as she imagined the trials Kayala had been forced through to bring Shining Moon this far she felt a sudden connection to the woman.

  She regarded the hammer again. It was light and balanced in her hand and seemed to hum with a quiet strength that made it much more than a simple weapon.

  It suits you.

  “What am I to do with it?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” Kayala replied. “A border war between kingdoms, even with the use of demons, seems a small matter. No, there must be something more.”

  Shalindra pulled a white leather belt from the case. She wrapped it about her waist, and secured the hammer to her right hip.

  Kayala started to say something, seemed to reconsider, then forged ahead. “My child, I am sorry, for I fear I may have placed your feet upon a road filled with more sorrow than certainty.”

  “I do not understand.”

  Kayala’s eyes misted. “The Guardian’s path is never easy, and rarely has it ended in happiness.” She seemed to struggle with her emotions.

  “Perhaps we should speak again tomorrow,” Shalindra said kindly. “We have all been through so much these past few days.”

  Kayala managed a nod and turned from them.

  Wishing there was something she could do to ease Kayala’s mind, Shalindra led Tormjere from the tent.

  Marie started as they stepped outside, clearly surprised that they were emerging so soon. Her eyes grew wide as they fell on the hammer, and she rushed inside the tent almost before they had moved from her path.

  Tormjere raised an eyebrow, but Shalindra thought it best to leave the women to whatever conversation they were having.

  Now that you have a weapon, do you think it will help with any more demons?

  It was a valid, practical question, but Shalindra’s concerns ran far deeper. Kayala’s vague warning echoed in her head as they walked.

  We do not know that more demons will come, nor do we know what it can do.

  It has to do something.

  I wond
er more about the pain she spoke of. Could that be part of this prophecy she spoke of?

  Every prophecy speaks of pain. If it promised flowers and gold, no one would believe it.

  She shook her head at his blasphemy, even as she found herself chuckling at the truth of it. If only she had made it to Fallhaven before all this had happened, or if it had never happened at all. Her education was so incomplete. Kayala and the other Sisters spoke of prophecies and precepts as if they were common knowledge, yet she had never heard mention of any of it.

  And what of the portents? She had noticed the blood moon—anyone who had looked at the sky that night would have seen it clearly—but Kayala attached special significance to it. Why? And what could it possibly have to do with her?

  Her hand brushed against Shining Moon. The weapon she had carried on their flight from Jonrin had been a heavy, ugly piece of metal that was awkward and uncomfortable. It was almost frightening how easily Shining Moon sat on her hip, unnoticeable unless her hand brushed against it.

  She came to a stop, realizing they were wandering through the camp with no clear destination.

  I wondered when you would figure that out.

  She fixed him an accusatory look and turned towards the tent which held the wounded.

  The fires that were lit burned for the sake of light, not warmth. Soldiers lay asleep on the ground or huddled together in conversation. Shalindra was met with friendly greetings and nods of thanks as she passed. Some were from men she had treated, and some were from those she had restored. Others had seen her facing the demons, perhaps, or heard of it from their friends.

  Many bowed their heads and treated her as the royalty she was, though none knew it. In the darkness, few seemed to notice the warhammer at her hip.

  After all she had done to remain hidden on their journey here, the attention was unsettling, and she was thankful when they reached their destination.

  She felt Tormjere’s amusement and fixed him with a stare. “You think I should not be worried? Someone could still be looking for me.”

  “Would it matter if they found you now?” he asked as he opened the tent flap for her. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  Shalindra shook her head and entered the tent, and he closed the flap behind her. Putting his back against a nearby tree, he settled in to wait.

  He had not been there long when Enna emerged from the tent and hurried into the woods. After she had been gone for some time, he rose and slipped quietly after her.

  He found her in the middle of a small clearing, face upturned to stare at the moon hanging high in the clear night sky. Though he couldn’t understand the words she whispered, the question they carried needed no translation.

  She fell silent, the slightest shift in her posture telling him that she was aware of his presence.

  “You’re troubled?” he asked.

  Enna lowered her head. “No, I…” She struggled to find the right words, discarding each that came to her mind.

  “You don’t think she should carry the Guardian’s hammer.”

  She turned to face him, and he saw redness around her eyes. “No, that would be… I am not jealous. But there was no ceremony, and no… How can she be Guardian without the rites being performed?”

  “You’ll forgive my ignorance, but neither of us have heard about any ceremony, or this prophecy.”

  Enna couldn’t hide her surprise. “Have humans lost so much?” she asked more sharply than intended, and instantly regretted it. “Forgive me. There is little reason for you to have known, but Shalindra…”

  “…is equally unaware.”

  Enna rose to her feet. “She truly does not know? The prophecy was recorded by the first Guardian and is thought to pertain to her eventual successor. Only a handful of Sisters have ascended since then, but none have fulfilled her words. Many have died in the attempt.”

  “That explains the sorrow and unhappiness part. What does it actually say?”

  Enna took a deep breath and recited words that she had known almost since birth.

  When Her gifts follow the blood moon west

  A Guardian shall ascend

  To walk as two where only one may tread

  And with the wisdom of the fallen

  End that which should never have begun

  “Shouldn’t it rhyme?”

  Enna gave him a frustrated look. “It is more poetic in the original, though it is a dialect that even we rarely use.”

  “Seems like you’d need something more specific. If that’s all you have to go on, why do you assume she’s the one?”

  “She must be. Only the Guardian may wield Her hammer or even bear its touch.”

  Tormjere decided not to mention that he had held the weapon without any problems. “But?”

  “But without the blessings of the Manalathlia, she cannot ascend. It has ever been that way.”

  “The who?”

  “Manalathlia is an elvish word. It translates to what you would call a Mother, but with some additional context. Though there is no central figure in Eluria’s church and all who follow Her are considered Sisters, many consider the Manalathlia to be the ultimate mortal authority on spiritual matters.”

  “Why?”

  She studied him again, but the question was without guile. “Elves are an older race than man. We were here long before the first human arrived on this shore. Once, we and the other fairy folk held sway over all the lands from the sea to the mountains, until…” She stopped, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Until humans took it from you?”

  Her eyes met his with a touch of recrimination. “You expand, and you conquer. What is this war but another such endeavor?”

  “And yet, here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  He raised an eyebrow. Not mocking, just curious.

  Her confused silence was the only answer he received, but she had already told him so much. Kayala hadn’t even mentioned the actual prophecy.

  “Regardless of the reason, I’m glad that you’re here,” he said. “It seems there’s much she needs to learn, and few who can teach her.”

  “I will do as I am able.”

  Uneasy Allies

  Tormjere stood on the rocky outcropping, surveying the plains below as they were scoured by blowing sand. Across from him stood another demon, massive, with wings. It spoke to him in a deep voice with words he did not recognize but whose meaning he knew well. Were he able, he would sink his claws into the other demon and tear him apart, but he dared not disobey. They were important things, these things he must do. He felt the pull. He wanted to kill something this time, to justify the humiliation. He was dragged from the ground, his body twisting and compressing painfully as it sped towards…

  His eyes snapped open and he sat up, hand on his sword. For a brief moment he seemed to exist in two worlds, until the aroma of dried leaves and ferns brought him fully awake. He looked to his left, towards where Shalindra slept with the other clerics in one of the few tents that had been erected.

  A messenger had finally made it through to them, bringing word that Halisford had fallen and thousands of Ceringions were now streaming north. They had broken camp in the middle of the night, leaving the fires burning as a ruse while the army made for Tiridon. They had marched all night and through the entire day, stopping just before sunset. Around him lay dozens of soldiers quietly, and some not so quietly, sleeping. Sentries stood watch around the perimeter of the hasty camp. The Ceringions seemed to have been caught off guard by their rapid retreat, but no one knew how quickly they would follow.

  Tormjere let his senses expand through the area around them but could feel only the jumble of men in the Kingdom army.

  You had another nightmare.

  So, you’re watching my dreams now?

  Only when they are so intense. You must…

  …be careful. I know.

  These are dangerous thoughts you are having, and we do not know where they are coming from.
/>   They could be memories, or simply dreams.

  Either way, they cannot be a good sign.

  It may not be any kind of sign. Get some rest. I promise I’ll have nothing but pleasant thoughts for the rest of the night.

  * * *

  Tiridon was a bustling city packed into a crook in the western bank of the Shardlow River and encircled by a curtain wall some twenty feet high. Almost the entire city was crammed inside that wall, with only a few farms scattered in the surrounding fields. Soldiers could be seen standing atop the rounded bastions which protruded from the wall’s smooth face every thirty paces.

  Shalindra eyed the large whitewashed castle rising above the buildings crammed around it in the center of the city, praying that she could avoid it, and its occupants, entirely this time.

  Despite her trepidation, the fortifications would be a welcome sight to the dispirited army that marched towards the city. The Ceringions had refused to allow them another peaceful retreat, harrying their rear with constant attacks. Edward had offered to let her ride with him, but she had elected to remain beside the other clerics so as not to call further attention to herself.

  She was also concerned about Kayala. The older cleric had remained silent on the subject of Shining Moon, though she had done nothing to avoid speaking. She seemed more upset with herself than anything, but it was difficult to tell.

  The cart they were riding in bounced over the hundredth rock of the day, making her reconsider Edward’s offer of a horse. Apart from being uncomfortable, she had little idea what was happening.

  Tormjere bounced unhappily on a horse nearby, much to her amusement. He maintained his unreasonable dislike for riding, and the animal he had been given seemed to share his sentiment.