by B J Hanlon
Edin turned. “Run Bliz… go find your pack.” He tried shooing the dire wolf. “Go.” The animal didn’t move.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw they were getting closer. A few hundred yards. Edin scooped up his pack and threw it over his shoulders. The ham was gone… no food. He found a single waterskin, barely half full. Edin sheathed his sword and looked up.
The air above seemed much colder.
Bliz howled behind him.
Edin glanced at the riders. At the center was the dark eyes and the bald head of the man who pervaded his dreams... helped to murder his family. Justicar Merik.
“Another time,” Edin said quietly and ran to the edge of the mountains. He heard a bark. Edin turned and saw his friend wasn’t following.
“Run, be free.” The wolf didn’t move. “Go,” Edin yelled, “get out of here.”
Bliz looked up at him and then at the approaching men. Bliz turned around and began sprinting into the tall grass. At least one friend would live.
Edin started to climb. He could barely feel his limbs as he pushed nearly straight up, higher and higher. The rumbling grew louder and he could hear random shouts.
“Loose.” Was shouted from one of them.
He didn’t look back. Edin kept going a foot at a time. An arrow hit the rock a half yard from his head. In front of him he saw a ledge. Edin reached it and scrambled up. It was a yard wide and deep. To his left though, was what looked to be a ridge, thin and precarious. Large and small rocks dotted it like nesting birds.
Edin crouched to make himself as small as possible. He heard another command of “loose.” Three arrows shot up at him. Edin watched them as his hand drifted to the blue stone around his neck. It grew cold, chilling the air around him. Then he remembered the canal in Frestils.
Edin reached out and the arrows dropped midflight, shattering on the rock face. Far beyond, in the hills, he saw a gray streak in the green grass. Hail.
“I can control water,” Edin said. He felt his powers… they were weak. Edin peered down over the ledge at the men as they drew again. Four left, the Justicar and three of his friends.
He thought about what Master Horston told him, the basic parts for water were around us at all times. In one of his dreams, he snuffed out the pyre.
He closed his eyes and imagined small dots in the air, beads of water forming small bubbles like rain drops suspended in midair. He felt the water condense into tight balls of ice.
His head thumped, his mind was straining. “Hail,” he whispered.
Edin raised his hands and the ice balls floated up like on a wave in the ocean. He slammed his hands down and watched as the hard projectiles flung down like meteors.
Merik dove toward a corpse as the other men were bashed and all fell to the ground in broken and bloody heaps.
Edin shivered. The cold around him started to bite. He watched the scene for only a moment then began to climb again. The ledge dropped away and he was met with another incline, steep but with many handholds.
He felt like a draugr. A barely alive version of himself. His vision blurred, his fingers were bloody though he couldn’t feel them. A cold ran deep in his body. Edin crested a small ridge.
His eyes could barely see more than a few yards ahead, though it looked like open air beyond it. Edin collapsed onto his back. His chest heaving.
Edin closed his eyes, he needed a rest. He was out of the reach of the Por Fen for now, but for the first time in his life, Edin was on his own.
II
The Timeless Keep
1
The Lonely Mountains
The wind pushed him forward like water down a sluice as Edin stumbled through a narrow gorge. He’d been in the mountains for about two days. Air constantly whipped through the pass bringing an unending shiver and constant gooseflesh. His shoulders brushed the walls as he climbed over broken stones and shattered bones.
A headache pounded as he put one foot in front of the other. He’d begun to try and block out the sounds of rocks clattering all around him. They gnawed at his mind causing a deep ache behind his eyes.
It was growing dark and the thick clouds hadn’t let up. While there hadn’t been any rain, he worried it may come. The gorge, with its twists and turns like a child’s drawing of a serpent would be a perfect death trap if a flash flood hit him. There’d be no way out.
A fallen boulder was wedged between the walls like a cork with barely a foot of space below it.
Edin wedged his foot into a space between the wall and the rock. He could barely grip anything, even with the wraps tied around his hands they were weak. Panting, he made it to the top and rolled over like a barrel being thrown off a gangplank. His feet hit the uneven ground and he tumbled into the stone wall with a thunk.
Edin pulled his blade from its sheath and set it next to him. Edin took the waterskin from his pack and drank. He barely had a mouthful left.
Pulling his cloak tight around his body, he curled up against the rock and stared into the coming darkness.
His eyes were heavy and closing on their own when the crack of a shattering rock exploded just before him. Edin jumped at the sound and then slowly grew still. This place was a dead zone.
Probably just wind he thought gripping the fang around his neck. It felt desolate as if all life had vacated this land for eternity and left it to the elements and the gods.
The cover provided relief from the wind but it was still a long and cold night. If he slept, he couldn’t tell when or for how long.
When the sun finally rose, Edin wrenched himself from the ground, joints creaking like a rusty wagon as he stood. The morning sunrays barely penetrated the floor of the canyon and offered no warmth. He would’ve given his arm for breakfast and coffee. His stomach was beyond growling now, it was just an ache that was barely noticeable with his pounding skull.
His head drooped as he walked, barely able to lift a foot off the ground. He nearly tripped over a small white animal bone.
That day, Edin didn’t think about stopping. If he did, he was liable to never get going again.
Somewhere around mid-day, the ridges above him either started to drop, or the canyon floor rose. He trudged on, his legs aching as if he’d done the Oret Nakosu, the granite manhood strengthening exercises, for days on end.
Slowly, the broken landscape appeared before him and he felt the sun on his face for the first time in days. He didn’t even realize the clouds had passed. Or if he did, it barely registered.
Edin closed his eyes and felt the warmth, the first real warmth that caressed him like tea just off the stove.
His dry mouth cracked when he tried to open it for a gulp of cold air. He dropped his pack and pulled out the waterskin slowly sipping. He didn’t have to shake it to know he had only drops left.
He took another step and a dizzy spell came over him. Edin reached a hand out to steady himself against a boulder. It was a period at the end of the canyon.
“Out…” he croaked and pushed off regaining a semblance of balance.
The sun was overhead when he crested the precipice and reached a small tabletop sized ledge. Edin fell to his knees and closed his eyes. For only a moment, the sun’s rays warmed him, then as if playing a joke, the mountains pushed gale strength winds at him. Edin moaned as the freezing air stopped his brain. He didn’t even shiver. He wanted to cry but had no tears to shed.
I failed, he thought before exhaustion took over and he remembered nothing.
A loud crash came from somewhere off to his right. Edin heard it, could feel a rumble, though couldn’t force his eyes open.
He slowly rolled to his side, then continued to his back. Edin’s pack stopped him like a door jam. Beyond his eyelids, he could see an orange glow. There were moments of silence followed by sheer rushes of a thick wind. It reminded him of someone breathing heavily.
Eventually, Edin was able to look and see the setting sun over the gorge he’d just came through. Somewhere in the distance were the corp
ses of his friends.
He thought about them for a moment, the first time in days, and he felt nothing. Maybe he couldn’t feel at all anymore. He slurped the last of the water and dropped the skin. There were no streams or rivers here… it didn’t matter anyway. He wished he still had the aleskin. He’d drink it down in a few moments, fall asleep and hopefully never wake.
What was that Edin… he thought. They wouldn’t want that though; they wouldn’t want him to give up. Grent, Horston, Dephina… his mother and Kes… probably.
It took everything in him to push himself to his knees. His nap… or whatever he could call it, did nothing for his exhaustion.
Edin shivered before raising his gaze to his surroundings. Surrounding him on all sides but the front were tall mountains with snowcapped peaks. But ahead, the land led to a broken up, broad expanse which he would’ve called a valley… but suddenly, it just dropped. The land disappeared like the last bit of earth at the edge of the world and inside Edin could see green. Beyond the greenery, he could see more mountains.
“What is…” He whispered. Then he started that way. It was slow moving toward the edge of the plateau. Slowly, he began to see the canopy of some forest below. A lush green land.
Edin tried to move faster, his foot caught a stone and he fell. His padded hands scrapping the rough rock. He caught his breath and stood, his legs shaking.
Edin had to get there. He got up and staggered forward to the edge and looked down.
His heart leapt. The world below was filled with life… with hope. Dark green trees rose next to each other, colored birds flittered in and out of the canopy. Edin heard the screech of some animal below.
There was no sign of a settlement. The land seemed to be untouched, what the world would be like if man never existed.
Suddenly, his hunger came back and hope grew, energizing his body. He had to get down there.
Inches from his toes, it was a sheer drop, maybe ten feet to a steady slope that descended for a hundred or so yards to the forest. The lushness made Edin certain there was water...
Edin sat and let his legs hang over the ledge. He swallowed as he looked at the drop.
There didn’t seem to be any place where he could land safely. Every inch was covered in strewn and cracked rocks. He had to land solid and catch his balance. Edin didn’t want to think of what would happen otherwise.
After a few deep breaths of the cool air, Edin summoned enough courage to push off. He was weightless for a moment. He felt something snag and his body tilted briefly.
He landed, then the worst thing happened, his ankle gave out on the side of a stone and his weight came down on top of it.
A sharp pain shot through him. His body collapsed and he rolled to the side. The pack stopped him from flipping all the way over, but the momentum carried him backwards down the slope.
Rocks sliced through his clothes, heard the ripping of his cloak. He could do nothing but scream though he couldn’t even hear his voice over the rumbling rockslide. All around him larger rocks that may have been there for hundreds of years were jarred loose.
They rumbled beneath him, digging into his body. A large stone bounded toward him and crashed into his chest like he was hit by Berka’s practice sword. His breath leapt from his body in an ‘umph’ and he flipped over his pack sliding down face first. The ground ripped at his chest as he sped toward the tree line fifty yards away. He tasted the dry hard rocks in his mouth.
Blood and pain pumped through his body like a blacksmith’s bellows. Edin reached out, hoping to find anything to grab on to. He dug his fingers into the ground and they felt as if they were being flailed, the skin ripping off as squirts of blood flew back in mists.
Something caught him in the palm, he spun again and felt something crack in his shoulder. He screamed as he was twirled like a top until he was completely disorientated.
He couldn’t see in the brown and gray cloud but he felt like he was going down backwards, his pack leading the way like a sled dog. Then he felt a soft thump and for a moment, he stopped.
Edin tried reaching for something with his bloody hands, the needle like stones, still descending, were blasting over his face like hail. Dirt and debris flew into his face. Edin tried to blink out the dust, he tried covering his face but his arms wouldn’t move. Everything was speckled, he blinked as tears attempted to wash away the alien objects.
For a moment, he watched a large stone tumbling toward him. He wasn’t moving, he’d be spattered between the two stones like a sandwich. It bounced and came toward him. He could barely breath, then something twisted in his body. A shimmering white light appeared around him. The boulder hit it and leapt over crashing to the ground like a ceramic pot being thrown against the floor.
Then it all slowed and stopped, though brown specs of dust floated down on him.
A few yards away he saw a bush reaching from the ground like a fragile hand waving at him. Then another.
Edin craned his head and saw trees looming over. Huge oaks and pines. He was at the tree line. His breathing slowed and the pain roared back.
A shudder of relief ran through him. Edin was broken, his body, his mind, and his will. He laid there for what seemed like hours not sleeping and not awake, but somewhere in between. He wasn’t sure if he’d die of dehydration or blood loss or a combination of the two.
In that state, he heard Grent’s words, ‘we forfeited our lives for you…’ It was painful and ridiculously hard to get going, but somehow, he knew he wasn’t going to let them die in vain. As he laid there, he thought of what to do next. “Take inventory.” He said, then move on.
It was dark and growing cold again when he gathered the strength to check himself. His shoulder ached and he knew it was broken, his ankle twisted and his entire body was bloody and or bruised.
The forest provided a little hope for him, maybe warmth in the undergrowth and probably water if he would he even be able to find it?
Edin sluffed off his pack and moved to his aching knees. The pack was torn like it’d been mauled by a crillio and the clothes and bedroll were gone. Edin glanced up the hill and saw trousers, tunics and undertrousers… he wasn’t going after those.
The necklace? His heart began to race again, as he reached with his bloody hand, and searched for the fang. It jabbed his palm, then he moved his fingers to the gemstone. He could also feel his sword because the hilt was jabbing into his thigh.
“Small blessings from the gods,” Edin said quoting his mother then hardened his jaw at the thought. If they offered blessing, they would’ve saved her and not condemned him. Edin spat, it came out as a thick blob of red and tasted of rocks.
He pushed himself to his feet and almost tumbled forward. One arm hung loose from his side, useless. Edin took a painful step down and reached the other out to a low hanging branch. It was sturdy.
Edin moved toward the trunk using the branch like a railing before wrapping an arm around it like it was an old friend. He cried out, or tried to. His body hiccupped and jerked. The exhaustion hit him like a runaway cart careening down a hill.
The sweet smell of trees wafted up toward him with a surprisingly warm breeze. The forest seemed almost to beckon him into its bosom. He could snuggle up on a comfortable bed of pine needles next to a roaring fire.
Edin hobbled down into the forest watching every footfall and gripping with his good arm. As he moved, sweat beads plastered his body stinging his eyes and the piercing scrapes and scratches on his face.
Above him, he heard the soft spattering of rain begin to fall. It cascaded down between leaves and branches landing on him like a cool wash cloth. Edin closed his eyes and pictured sitting on the front porch of the manor with his mother. Somehow, a smile came over him. They’d sit and listen to the pitter-pat of nature, read, talk about the world, or just chat about the local gossip.
The lazy days with his mother were gone. His heart thundered and Edin leaned his full body weight against a thick tree.
The
rain became colder, Edin spent more than an hour drinking from leaves and lightly rinsing his wounds. He had no soap so he could easily get a repeat of the last sickness. And this time, Master Horston wasn’t here to save him.
By the time he was done, it was too dark to delve into the unspoiled valley. The visibility was barely five feet in the gloom and he could barely make out bushes and trees.
Edin shivered and wasn’t sure if a tear had just run down his face before melding with the rain. He covered himself with his shredded cloak and closed his eyes.
As the night wore on, the rain ceased and slowly the locals came out. At first, it was hooting of owls or fluttering of bats from dark caves high above him.
Bushes rustled near him with snorts, hisses, and squeaks.
Edin’s eyes were barely open as a white moon began to push through the canopy. He began to unwrap himself, his good arm first. This was a terrible position to sleep in. Every movement was slow and painful.
As he pushed his legs out in front of him, he realized there was a moment of silence. A calmness that didn’t seem real.
Then, it was as if his knowledge of it broke the tranquility and a tremendous roar exploded from somewhere in the vale.
Animals screamed and a tree crashed with snapping branches echoing through the forest. Edin pulled his body back into a ball. Pain flared and gooseflesh ran down his skin. He was unable to look, unable to move.
Loud, pained cries followed. It was continuous with seemingly no breath between them.
Edin’s stomach dropped, he could almost feel the panic in the animal’s cries. It continued for what felt like an hour. Slowly, he moved his good hand to his ears.
As he was about to cover it, everything went silent.
The silence, like the cries, went on for too long. A dark, grim feeling settled in his mind, something had been hunted… and the hunter caught its prey.
The ground began to rumble, barely perceptible, but he could feel it. Then it was gone.