As Fire is to Gold (Chronicles of the Ilaroi Book 1)

by Mark McCabe

  Once the fire was started, Rayne produced an ingenious assortment of metal stakes and cooking equipment from his seemingly bottomless saddlebags. Within moments he had a cooking pot with some oil in the bottom slowly heating over the fire. To this, he added some wild onions, shortly followed by all of the vegetables and roots, as well as the herbs he’d collected over the past few days whenever the chance arose. With a final flourish, he threw in some of the salted coney he’d been keeping. After all this had been thoroughly mixed, he added some water from the stream. It all began to look very inviting to Sara and the aroma alerted her taste buds that this would be a meal worth waiting for.

  While Rayne continued to busy himself with the stew, Sara began to explore the small stream and the surrounding area. She quickly found a waterhole just below where they had camped. It was neither large, being perhaps several paces in length, nor very deep, and its sandy bottom, strewn with river rocks, could easily be seen through the clear water.

  Looking at the waterhole, Sara thought of how much she longed for a bath. In her cell, she had been able to wash herself down from the basin of water provided, usually doing so late at night with the lantern out while Ruz and Tug were asleep. It wasn’t the same as a proper bath, though. Even if she couldn’t wash properly, she knew that just to be able to fully immerse herself in water would be pure delight. She also knew it wasn’t just her body that needed a good wash, she was still wearing the same clothes she’d been given that first night. Although she’d become accustomed to the odour, she knew they must stink. She dreaded to think what Rayne must think of her smell.

  To her relief, he readily agreed when she asked if they could stop long enough for a swim and a chance to clean up. He suggested she have a wash and a swim while the stew was cooking, saying it would take some time before it was done. Sara decided to push her luck a little further.

  “I’d dearly love to wash out my clothes,” she said forlornly. “There are a couple of large rocks I could dry them on in the sun and I’m sure they’d dry quickly but . . . I’ve nothing to put on while they dry.” The last was said with a shy look towards her feet.

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” replied Rayne, suddenly very concerned. “I didn’t think of that. I’ve got some spare clothes. I can lend you some to wear. Not just while your clothes are drying. I mean as a spare set. You’ll probably have to roll the sleeves and trousers up a bit and pull in the belt, but they should do.”

  “Why, thank you, Rayne. That’s very kind of you.” Sara almost felt guilty for having manoeuvered him into the offer. Of all the people to run into here in Ilythia, she wondered if she could have happened on a kinder spirit.

  For not the first time, Sara felt herself admiring his qualities. The girls back home would crawl over hot coals for a guy like him, she thought, especially when you added his looks to all his other attributes. As she watched him, he rose from what he was doing and proceeded to remove a rolled up cotton shirt and a pair of linen trousers from his saddlebags. Both had been dyed the pale green colour which matched that of the shirt he was wearing.

  “Here. You might find these useful as well,” said Rayne, passing Sara a small cake of purple soap, a wooden comb and a small glass flask with a cork stopper.

  “Soap . . . and a comb!” squealed Sara. “Oh, you’re wonderful. What’s in the bottle?”

  “Terrin’s wife gave it to me as a parting gift. She told me to save it for when . . . for a special occasion. I think she meant for me to use it, not to give it to someone else, but you’re welcome to use it. It’s apple scented oil for your hair.”

  “Oh, Rayne.” Impetuously Sara reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. You are such a treasure.”

  As Rayne flushed in embarrassment, Sara felt the blood rushing to her own cheeks. What in the world did she think she was doing? Taking the proffered items and quickly turning, she headed for the waterhole. It was downstream a short distance and discreetly obscured from their campsite by the intervening trees. How embarrassing, thought Sara, not daring to look back as she rapidly made her way off through the trees.

  A few minutes later Sara was squatting naked over the rocks on the downstream side of the waterhole, merrily scrubbing her buckskins with the soap Rayne had provided. She felt strange being naked, right out in the open like that, but she knew it made good sense. She had to wash her clothes first so they would have time to dry and she didn’t want to put on the clean ones until she’d bathed. Besides, there was no one else around except Rayne and he didn’t seem the type to be a peeping tom. Once she’d scrubbed the grime and the stains of a few weeks wear from her clothes, she laid them out to dry on the large boulders beside the stream, with her fresh clothes nearby. She then slipped into the water herself.

  The icy water made her gasp at first but nothing was going to deter her from this chance for a bath. Within a few moments. she was totally immersed, seated on an underwater rock while she washed her hair with the sweet smelling oil.

  Determined though she was to be clean of the smell of her cell, she was careful to conserve both the soap, which smelled strongly of lavender, and the oil, not knowing how precious Rayne’s supply of either might be. By the time she’d thought to ask, she’d been too embarrassed to go back and do so.

  After a luxuriating wash and a small paddle, Sara climbed out of the pool and lay down on the grassy bank in the sun. She still felt a bit self-conscious, the only time that she had ever skinny-dipped before was with two girlfriends late one night in the local pool. She tried to relax though, telling herself she would soon dry off enough to don the new clothes Rayne had so generously provided.

  As she lay there, soaking up the warm sun that beat down on her pale skin, she couldn’t help but think of her plight. Although she felt wonderful lying in the sun, having just bathed and washed her hair, she knew reality still lurked close by, waiting to be dealt with.

  Like Rayne, she felt that she’d left Ruz and Tug far behind. Her problem now was where could she go, and what could she do? Rayne would take her to Keerêt, but what then? From what she had learnt and seen, it was obvious that she’d been brought to Ilythia by magic, as wild as that might seem. Taking the thought further, that meant there were only three people who would have the power to return her home, the so-called Guardians that Rayne had told her of. Clearly, Golkar was out, so that left the other two. The only plan that seemed to make sense was to somehow convince one of them to help her to get home.

  The problem was, she didn’t have the first idea how she might do that. Rayne had said they only dealt with those at the top. That must mean the nobles. He’d also told her there was a queen in Keerêt, Queen Elissa he called her. Once Sara got there, she would have to find a way to approach her, if that was possible for an ordinary person, and see what happened then. Anything beyond that was too vague at this point.

  Sara knew that all of this might prove futile, that there might, in fact, be no way back home. Golkar was clearly not what Rayne had believed. Far from being a protector, he was evil. It wasn’t just what he’d done or planned to do to her either. She’d seen the dead girl in his study. Protectors didn’t kill people. It was quite possible the other two wizards were equally untrustworthy. And even if they wanted to help her, would they be able to? Sara didn’t want to pursue that line of thinking too far. The thought of being stranded forever in this world wasn’t something she wanted to deal with unless and until she had to, it was just too frightening.

  Sara’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her name being called. It was Rayne, shouting from upstream.

  “Yes?” she shouted back, quickly hopping up and beginning to dress.

  “I was concerned about you,” came Rayne’s voice from beyond the bushes, in the direction of their campsite.

  “I’m okay. I’m dry now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Quickly dressing, Sara found she did need to roll up the sleeves and the trouser legs on the clothes that Rayne had lent her. Nonetheles
s, though the shirt was a bit loose and quite long, the clothes fitted her well. She still had the leather moccasins she’d been given that first night and she put them back on. They’d served her well thus far and she saw no need to discard them. The clothes she’d washed were still damp so she left them where they were for the moment, turning them over to assist the drying process.

  Returning to the camp, she found Rayne checking the stew with a ladle. He stood up as she arrived and took the soap and oil she held in her outstretched hand.

  “Thank you, Rayne,” she said with a smile. “I needed that badly.” As she spoke, she took the comb from her pocket and passed it to him as well.

  “You’re welcome,” replied Rayne with a grin as he walked past her, heading in the direction that she’d come from. “It’s my turn now. I can’t ride with you like this now that you smell so lovely.”

  Nell stepped slowly and cautiously down the steep and rocky trail as it snaked its way through the towering beech trees that lined the cool mountain stream. They were almost down to the rock ledge and the roar of the waterfall was much louder now. Rayne had known there were falls somewhere near their trail and had managed to find the spot without much difficulty. They’d caught glimpses of the valley below as they’d come over a ridge an hour or so earlier. They’d made good progress over the last few days but were still deep within the Western Wilderness.

  The path disappeared as it opened on to a wide granite ledge, devoid of trees. Before them lay a wide expanse of rock, worn smooth over the years and littered with boulders of varying sizes. The bubbling stream that flowed out from the trees sparkled in the sun, spilling over the rocks beside them and plunging out into the void some thirty to forty paces away from where they had halted. The roar from the valley below rushed back at them, muffling the sounds of the forest. Ahead of them, beyond the cliff’s edge, stretched countless acres of woodland, a carpet of green, speckled with silver, that undulated in the gentle breeze, dotted here and there with the contrasting colour of a foreign species struggling to gain a foothold in the sea of beech. The scene was both breathtaking and exhilarating to the two weary travellers.

  Rayne jumped down from Nell and helped Sara alight. “I know this is out of the way,” he said, half apologising. “We’ll have to backtrack to get down, but I thought you might like this.”

  “It’s beautiful,” cried Sara, skipping nimbly over the warm granite surface, keen for a closer view.

  Rayne led Nell a few strides away from the trail and tethered her in the shade of a tree. Grabbing his bow he hurried after his young companion.

  “What’s that for?” shouted Sara over the roar of the falls, as he joined her at the cliff’s edge. The stream plunged over the rocks beside them, falling some fifty metres to a large pool below before it ran on, rippling over rapids and around rocks. A bend in the distance took it from sight, the endless trees swallowing it up, disgorging it for a brief glimpse again further on as it twisted once more. The pool below them, its inner edge concealed by the overhanging rocks, broiled from the force of the water cascading down from above. As Rayne had expected, a person could climb down with some difficulty, but a mounted traveller would have to take the long way around.

  He leaned over closer to Sara, raising his voice so she could hear him. “I was hoping there might be some game down below. Certainly later in the day, this would be an ideal spot to find deer.” They could see no sign of prey on the mossy banks of the glistening pool far below them.

  As Rayne turned, looking along the escarpment for the most likely path down, an arrow whizzed by his right ear. Spinning around he spotted its source quickly. A swarthy looking man, bow in hand, sat astride a horse, at the very spot where Rayne and Sara had emerged from the trees. As the man reached over his shoulder for another arrow, an elvish looking male was dismounting beside him. The elf was gesticulating as he shouted something at the man who had fired, but there was no way that Rayne could hear what he was saying. The din of the falls was blanketing all other noise. Two more mounted figures could be seen lurking behind them.

  All this Rayne took in in an instant, dimly aware of Sara’s scream from beside him. As their two assailants remonstrated with each other, Rayne quickly raised his own bow and fired. His aim was true, the man falling from his horse an instant later with Rayne’s arrow buried deep within his chest. Instinctively Rayne reached for a fresh arrow, darting for the cover of a boulder as he did so. He was grateful for Sara’s alertness as she scrabbled across the rocks behind him. His blood pounded in his ears. He’d never shot a man before.

  Peering out from their cover, he felt Sara’s trembling hand gripping his leather jerkin tightly as she huddled closely behind him. Somehow her fear calmed him. Her life, his life, was in his hands. Any doubts of her story evaporated instantly. These men were clearly in league with her kidnappers. The elf, more likely draghar as she’d said, may be one of the very ones that she’d talked of.

  He watched as their attackers spread out. There were three of them now, the one that he’d shot hadn’t moved from where he had fallen. All three had bows. He also noticed swords sheathed at their waists as they moved. Loosing an arrow and drawing another he realised the futility of their situation. Their attackers were alert now, moving from cover to cover as they spread out. He had to do something quickly. Within moments they’d be able to pick him off. There was nowhere near enough cover to conceal them from all three of their attackers at the one time.

  Rayne knew what he had to do. Throwing down the bow, he grabbed Sara’s arm, shouting into her ear. “We’ve got to jump. They’ll surround us. We have no chance here. Don’t let go of my hand.”

  She nodded in reply, still trembling with fear. There was clearly no time to debate the matter.

  With a nod from Rayne, they both rose and dashed for the edge, leaping out into the void as another arrow whistled between them. As they plunged downwards, Rayne realised he hadn’t asked Sara if she could swim.

  Moments later their bodies sliced into the icy waters, spearing down into the darkness. Rayne held Sara’s hand firmly in his, his lungs bursting as they descended. When their downward momentum finally halted, he kicked with his legs, up towards the light far above them. To his relief, Sara kicked too. Above him, he could see the light of the sky and the boiling area where the falls breached the surface. He headed for the darker, stiller water behind that cauldron.

  A few moments later, they burst through the surface, both gasping for air. Rayne quickly paddled to the rocks behind the falls, grasping hold of their slippery surface while he pulled Sara out beside him. Allowing only a few moments for her to get her breath back, he started to move across the tumble of rocks at the foot of the wet cliff face, motioning for Sara to follow him as he did so. They both knew that speech was pointless in the deafening roar that surrounded them.

  Slipping and falling over the rocks in the constant spray of the falls, they slowly made their way around the cliff face at the back of the pool. Emerging from behind the curtain of water and cautiously peering up, Rayne realised that he would need to move further, away from the tumbling sheet of water beside him. Moving along, a bit further away from the spray of the falls, he satisfied himself that he still couldn’t be seen from above and then started to scale the wet cliff.

  Looking behind him, through a mist of fine spray, Rayne saw that Sara had made no move to follow. She still stood, drenched and bedraggled, at the bottom of the cliff, looking up at him with a frown on her face and shouting something that was impossible to hear so close to the falls. Rayne knew they had no time for debate, time was of the essence. Waving vigorously for her to follow him, he continued to climb, moving cautiously up the slippery surface, carefully picking each foothold and handhold as he went. When, after a few moments, he looked behind again, he was gratified to see that Sara was now following him. The girl sure has pluck, he thought to himself.

  As Rayne climbed, he hoped he hadn’t sealed their doom through his actions. His pla
n depended on a number of things, successfully negotiating the slippery cliff face being the least of their difficulties. The ruse was one his father had once used. Rayne had thought of it, remembering his father’s story and not thinking how soon he might use it when they had looked over and seen the pool disappearing out of sight below them behind the overhang of the rocks.

  He had to hope their attackers would be taking the longer way, rushing to get their horses down so they could cut off escape from below. He also had to hope they’d left no one behind. He and Sara could be picked off easily on the cliff face once they came into view. The clincher was that they had to be up and out of sight from below before their attackers could get down. Rayne had no idea how long it would take them to get down with their horses, but he knew it was critical that he and Sara beat them. It would set the men a pretty puzzle and give him and Sara at least some start before they backtracked and worked out what had happened.

  Looking down again, Rayne saw that Sara had moved up behind him. She was a better climber than he was, despite the slippery surface. Slowly but surely they moved on. The cliff face, though steep, was not sheer and abounded with spots to gain purchase. The fine spray of water that covered the rocks, however, made the surface treacherous and ensured they pressed on with agonising slowness.

  About halfway up the face, disaster befell them as Rayne’s feet slipped from under him. A granite outcropping that he was using as a ledge for both feet flaked loose, leaving him hanging perilously by one hand. The other had been reaching up for a fresh hold. He heard Sara’s squeak from below as the loosened rock caught her on the shoulder as it fell. Rayne’s feet flailed in the air as he frantically sought for support. Realising that his fingers were slipping and could hold him for only a few seconds longer, he shouted down to Sara.

  “I’m going to fall. We both will as I’m right above you. Cling close to the face and I’ll push out from the wall so that I fall into the pool and not onto you or the rocks.”