Rivalyn

by Rachel James

  Alys tutted. “Really you two, you’re as bad as each other.”

  Niall turned to face Cabal and narrowed his eyes in warning.

  “You just wait,” grunted Cabal.

  They reached the pathway by midday and continued toward the rope bridge.

  “Shouldn’t be long now,” said Cabal.

  Alys glanced across at him. “How well do you know this area?”

  He quirked his bottom lip. “I grew up in these parts, my lady.”

  She paused. “You are a Wealdman?”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “Not really. Mayhap we were once, but certainly, before I was born.” She stared at Cabal. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty.”

  She scratched her head. “So, you were raised with the forest folk?”

  He nodded.

  Niall glanced between the two of them. “What am I missing here?”

  “In the days of the monarchy, all of Rivalyn were Wealdfolk. But, when the Shieldoks came, and the Kingdom of Dyrah became our overlord, some Wealdfolk refused to comply. Eventually, they fled to the forests.”

  “As outlaws?”

  “Aye, I suppose. Wealdfolk keep to themselves. My father always sought peace, but there is often trouble where differing opinions are concerned.”

  Cabal folded his arms. “What she means to say is, Wealdfolk hate the Rivalians for cowering under Shieldok rule. They want their independence.”

  “So, I take it they don’t look favourably upon your serving in the palace guard?”

  “Nay. I haven’t returned to my people for years.”

  Alys frowned. “We may run into a little difficulty then.”

  Niall scanned the area. They hadn’t seen a soul since they had entered the forest, but he sensed a presence, as they powered through. “And how are they likely to treat the princess of Rivalyn?”

  Cabal grimaced. “We might not want to tell them that.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Weylin’s Belt was centuries old and had been repaired many times, but in the last twenty years, had been left to rot. Alys shook the rope tentatively, and a flurry of birds flew away and down into the ravine. She swallowed. Surely not all three of them would make it across at the same time.

  She sat beside Niall and Cabal.

  “It’s a test,” said Cabal.

  Niall pulled a face. “How? Aloedia planned this over a score past. How would she have known the bridge would be neglected?”

  He exhaled through his nose. “True.”

  Alys turned to Cabal. “If you are from the forest, how did you cross? It couldn’t have been that long ago.”

  “I didn’t. I went by the river.”

  “Oh,” she said, dismayed. They needed to follow the exact route. Frustrated, she leaned back on the rock and stared up into the sky. “I wonder why the apostle Paul called it the belt of truth.” Her gaze dropped to the girdle that kept her sword in place. “Truth holds everything together?”

  Niall turned his face toward hers. “Aye. The belt not only secures the sword but also the breastplate and protects the loins—the foundation of our protective gear. Without the belt, the armour is ineffective. In the same way, without truth, our efforts are futile.”

  “Well, the truth here is, we’re stuck,” said Cabal.

  Alys burst into laughter and got up once more. She tried her foot on the first plank of wood which creaked but held her weight. She turned to the other men. “I weigh less than you both. I’ve more chance of making it across.”

  Niall cleared his throat. “You’re not going alone.”

  “Nay, I didn’t mean that. Look, on the other side of this bridge...see where the vine dangles? If I can get across first, I’ll tie the rope to a tree or something, and bring it back to you. We could use it to swing across and climb up.”

  Niall ground his jaw. “I should go first.”

  “You’re too heavy.”

  “I’m responsible for you.”

  With clenched fists on her hips, she spoke more firmly. “I’m a big girl.”

  He exhaled. “I know it,” he mumbled. “But I made a promise to your father...”

  She took his hands in her own and stared into his eyes. “Niall, this is something I must do.”

  He sighed. “Very well. But wait—” His gaze lingered at her girdle. “Take off your belt.”

  Reluctantly, she obliged him. He took her sword from her and passed it to Cabal. Then, he tied the leather strap around the top railing on the bridge and wound it around her arm. “Hold on to this. Should the plank snap, this will stop you from falling.”

  A good plan, so long as the rope didn’t break, but she wouldn’t give Niall another reason to prevent her from trying.

  The strap slowed her down, but it gave her added security. She slowly edged forward, keeping a wide stride so as not to put an unnecessary strain in the middle of the planks. They creaked as she walked, and she swayed slightly. She gripped the belt tighter and moved cautiously to the end. Her hands began to ache, and she gritted her teeth to dull her senses. The bridge was not long, and she reached the other side with immense relief.

  She collapsed, never so thankful to see grass. She glanced across at Cabal as he approached Weylin’s Belt with speed, his feet barely touching the wood as he skimmed his way over. Alys marvelled at his stealthiness.

  He was only a few feet away from her when a slab gave way. His arms flailed in the air as his legs slipped through. Alys gasped and reached out to him, but to no avail. Cabal clutched at another piece of wood, but it crumbled. He now hung on to the bottom rope with one arm. He tried to swing himself up, but his strength grew weaker by each impending moment.

  Frustrated, Alys cast her gaze to Niall, who stood helpless on the other side of the bridge.

  “Alys, use your belt!” shouted Niall.

  She blinked. In all the commotion, she had forgotten it was still tied around her wrist. She loosened it and flung out toward Cabal. It missed. She tried again, this time Cabal grabbed it, but Alys lost her momentum and was yanked further down herself. Frantically, her foot caught around the rope before she fell off the side of the cliff. Cabal used her belt to climb back on to the bridge, and once he was within reach, they both climbed back to the edge. Alys’s hand trembled with the shock, and she clung to Cabal, never so glad to see him in all her days.

  “My lady,” he said. “Are you well?”

  She laughed. It was either that or burst into tears. “Aye. I was not the one dangling over the cliff. Are you injured?”

  “Nay, only my pride.” He sat up—his shoulders hunched over to catch a breath. “I am your guardian, and yet you saved my life,” the disbelief showing in his tone.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied. “I was only after my sword.”

  He stared at her, with a blank expression, and then broke into a chuckle, reaching into the sack tied to his back. He produced her weapon.

  “Thank you. I’ll hang on to it from now on if you don’t mind.”

  He harrumphed. “Seem to be worth more to you when I carry it.”

  The sound of Niall clearing his throat echoed and Alys glanced up. “We forgot about Niall.” She surveyed the bridge with dismay. Many of the planks had fallen away.

  Niall tested his foot on the first step, and it crumbled beneath him. He tugged on the rope. It seemed to hold enough. Forgoing the steps, he climbed on to the outer part and edged his way along, shimmying his feet together. Alys swallowed as the twine groaned in protest. “First thing I will do when we get back, is to order the restoration of this bridge.”

  Cabal sighed. “They neglect it for good reason. The Wealdfolk fear the Shieldoks. I’m surprised they even left it in this condition. We might be doing them a favour if we cut it down completely.”

  As Niall neared them, Cabal stretched out his arm to help him the last bit of the way. Niall glanced down at his hands, red and raw with rope burn. Alys gasped. “Come, let’s take a brea
k and see to your ailments. I think we could all do with respite.”

  They continued until they reached a small clearing in the woods and settled themselves down by the stream. Alys took Niall’s hands, washed them in the water and broke up some yarrow leaves to make a poultice. “This should sooth them for a time before we journey onward.”

  “I need no fussing, Alys. My body has seen much worse.”

  She gazed into his deep blue eyes, and she saw such pain. “You have, haven’t you.”

  He swallowed. “What makes you say that?”

  She pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. Even though Ariana had braided it well, their adventures had loosened the style. “You’ve experienced much loss, I think...you were married before?”

  Niall’s face, void of all expression, confirmed her suspicions. She must tread carefully. “Your wife...she...she passed?”

  He grimaced. “Aye. In childbirth.”

  She caught her breath, “And the bairn?”

  “With her mother.”

  Alys closed her eyes. Death was so cruel. “Is that why you have wandered to Holmorra? You are running away from your grief?”

  “On the contrary, I am searching for...wholeness.”

  “I think you will only find that in the Almighty, and he is everywhere.”

  He nodded. “Perchance, I am seeking purpose. I used to be so sure of my destiny...”

  Cabal returned with firewood, and Alys pulled back from Niall. He got up and gave some excuse about scouting the local area and was gone before she could draw another breath. She’d been getting too familiar with her bodyguard of late.

  Strange, she didn’t look at Niall like he was a normal soldier. She knew there was far more to him than that. Was it the mystery that she found so attractive, or the man himself? Mayhap both. It didn’t matter. The entire notion was a frightful one. She had to get herself together and refocus on her mission.

  She leaned over to help Cabal with the firewood, just as a series of spears whizzed through the air and surrounded them. Alys froze. Shadows moved amongst the trees, and the sound of rustling leaves was the last thing she heard.

  Chapter Seven

  The forest darkened as sunlight faded. Niall picked up another piece of wood and added it to his pile. He wandered off a little farther than intended, but he wanted to scout the territory. He always trusted his instincts, and they were shouting at him that something was wrong.

  Suddenly, he heard shrieking. Had he imagined it? Alys was safe with Cabal—or was she? He sprinted down the hill, following the river round. His foot tripped on a branch, and he stumbled, grazing his hands to break his fall.

  He was still quite a distance from camp, but a flash of green clothing caught his attention. Wealdfolk? He quickened his pace, but he was too far away. Keeping low, he followed the shadows until he glimpsed Cabal and Alys with their hands bound behind their backs as they were dragged through the forest.

  The settlement was deep in the heart of the wood, with huts built directly within the trees themselves. A fire was positioned in the centre with watchmen patrolling the outer boundary.

  Niall grimaced as Alys and Cabal were thrust into cages and hoisted in the trees. Two guards stood at the bottom of them, and without a weapon, he’d be unable to get to them in daylight. Mayhap he could wait to rescue them at nightfall.

  Glancing around, he opted to hide in the sty. No one ever paid attention to the pigs, and at least there, he could keep watch and listen out for anything untoward.

  Peering through the gaps in the fence, he spotted sight of Alys’s sword lying on a table. Several people surrounded it, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other. One of them made large hand gestures, pointed to Alys, and back at the blade, then toward the hut. Soon afterwards the folk left, taking the sword with them, into the nearest tree hut.

  Now, what should he do? He needed both Alys and the sword, who were in opposite directions. He opted for the sword, for Alys was in no immediate danger.

  He glanced around, could he make the distance without being undetected? Leaning his arm out from inside the pen, he undid the fence that let out the chickens. As hoped, the chickens caused a commotion, giving him time to release the pigs from their sty. The distraction drew the guard’s attention away, and he sprinted over to the central hut. He went around the back and lifted the window shutter ajar.

  “She is the princess, I tell you. This is Aloedia’s short sword.”

  An older man, with long greying hair, examined the sword’s inscription and ran his hand along with the intricate markings.

  “’Tis the Rivalyn symbol, the same as your buckle.”

  He removed his belt with a silver buckle encrusted with dark blue gems. Indeed, the inscriptions seemed to match that which was on Alys’s sword.

  “Which proves naught. She could be a thief.”

  “What would you have us do with her, Turi?”

  Turi sat down, his hands kept inside his bell sleeves. “We’ll see if she passes. Wait until after supper, and night has fallen. Then bring her down to the assembly. They will be the judge and decide her fate.”

  “And Cabal?”

  “Him too.”

  The wooden cage shook, and Alys woke with a cramp in her leg, her back ached and her vision was disoriented.

  “My lady...Alys...”

  It took a moment for her to realize she was trapped, and someone was calling her name. It was night, and she was still very much a captive.

  “Alys.”

  This time she turned toward the sound and squinted her eyes to decipher the dark form that sat perched in a cage opposite her.

  “Cabal,” she whispered, her breath fast and ragged. The walls encroached upon her. She tried to calm down her breathing as her world began to spin.

  Cabal reached out his hand and grabbed her own. “All is well. Niall is here.”

  She opened her eyes. “You’ve seen him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Why doesn’t he get us down?”

  “He won’t need to. We will be summoned before the tribal assembly shortly.”

  “How do you—”

  “’Tis the Wealdic way.”

  Her eyes jolted toward him. “You are a deserter to them...what will they do with you?”

  He sighed. “They have never met you, my lady, but if they think you are of Rivalyn nobility, and I am your protector, they may harm us both.”

  She swallowed, looking down at her attire. “I cannot pass as common folk.”

  Suddenly her cage jolted, and Cabal’s hand yanked away as she was hastily lowered to the ground. They dragged her into a village meeting around the campfire. At one end sat the chieftain who was surrounded by armed men. The rest of their tribe waited in a circle, and she was dumped before their leader.

  They tied her hands behind her back, and her hair tousled loosely over her shoulders. The chieftain rose and put his finger under her chin, examined her face, but said naught. Alys stared at his belt buckle, bearing their royal symbol. At first, she thought it was her sword but realized it was something else.

  Surely it couldn’t be. “The Belt of Truth,” she whispered to herself. Was this another clue? Whom was this man, and how did he come to possess it?

  Recognition flashed before the old man’s eyes, and he stared intently at her as if trying to read her thoughts.

  “What is your name?” the man asked.

  She hesitated and glanced over at Cabal, who still hung in the tree. Her gaze darted around the assembly, searching for Niall. She closed her eyes and petitioned the Almighty. God give her wisdom and boldness.

  “Alys,” she answered him.

  “Daughter of...?”

  She swallowed. If she revealed she was the praefect’s child, she put Cabal in danger, but she could not lie either. She looked into the chieftain’s eyes. He seemed a man to be feared but trusted at the same time.

  “What brings you to our parts?”

  Alys d
rew out a long breath. She could say she was fleeing the Shieldoks, but as she stared at his belt buckle, she knew the truth would give her the answers she so desperately needed. God help her. “I travel in search of my mother’s sword. My quest brought us here.”

  The chieftain’s eyes widened. “And who is your mother?”

  She glanced toward Cabal and back to the chief. “Aloedia, the last queen of Rivalyn.”

  There were several gasps around the assembly.

  “Prove it.”

  She blinked. “I cannot. Which is why I seek to find the Sacred Sword of Rivalyn.”

  “Finding the sword does not confirm your bloodline, child, only your worth.”

  She exhaled, exasperated. “’Tis my only hope to save my people.”

  “From what?”

  “The Shieldoks. They’ve infiltrated the palace and taken control of the city. The Sacred Sword is the last hope. I wish to claim my title and stand as ruler of Rivalyn.”

  The man sat back down and rubbed his jaw. “Well, folk? What is your verdict?”

  She looked around at the crowd. No one made a sound, but there were a few nods amongst them.

  The chief watched her every move. “Take her back to her cage, and bring me, Cabal.”

  Niall changed his squatting position as his legs turned numb. How long should he hide out here before striking? He thought about snatching Alys when they brought her down for examination, but he could not get Cabal without causing a stir.

  And now Cabal stood before the people, his head hung low as they questioned his reasons for leaving and now returning.

  “Who is she?” Turi said.

  Cabal shifted his feet. “Why do you ask?”

  “I wish the truth.”

  “She’s just a common orphan.”

  “If so lowly, why are you with her?”

  “’Tis dangerous in these parts for a woman by herself.”

  “What of your station at the palace? I presume you still serve there?”

  Cabal cleared his throat. “I left after the Shieldoks invaded.”

  “Where is your lady friend going?”