Ellagine stepped forward, interrupting the sacred moment. She lifted a hand in a farewell gesture. “This may be the end of the Green Company, yet it is only the start of the salvation of our world. Long may you live. Long may you prosper.”
“Why is everyone leaving?” Wekin bemoaned.
Glashar turned away, unable to offer goodbyes in her sorrow.
Visra smirked. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”
Zhane walked forward, gripping Ellagine’s arm in farewell.
Idrithar saw the Silver Herd landing; it was time to go their separate ways.
“Idrithar? A word in private,” Indonesia walked up to him, breaking him out of his reprieve.
He followed her into the thicket, still carrying the sword. “I see you gave the sword of Crinte the Wise to Zhane,” he remarked dryly.
“I know you wanted it,” her response was flippant, almost taunting. “Yet it goes to Zhane. You hold power, in time, you will learn to control the blade of Alaireia, Keeper of the Clyear.”
“I am grateful,” he told her. “In fact, I am honored to carry the blade of one of the Five Warriors. I only thought as wise comes to wise you would see fit to grant me the sword of your father.”
“You are nothing like my father,” Indonesia interrupted, eyes flashing.
“You mistake my meaning,” Idrithar held up a hand, studying her expression. Indonesia had a way of getting under his skin and twisting his words, even after twenty-some years. It seemed she intentionally provoked him. He mentally prepared himself for her affront. “The sword of the last of the Order of the Wise should pass through a line of Watchers for generations to come.”
“Yes, generations to come,” Indonesia mocked him. “You said it yourself. Idrithar, you have no children. You don’t have a bloodline to pass the sword to.”
“Nor does Zhane,” he reminded her, holding up a finger.
Indonesia took a step toward him; he sensed her anger vibrating through the air. “No, he is much younger though, and more likely, after the world is at peace, to find someone. His destiny lies here in the west. I have sensed it, the Iaen have sensed it. Unless you find someone else, you are not destined for children.”
“Is it your intention to be cruel?”
“No,” her hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she had said. “I’m sorry. Idrithar, I didn’t to mean to be…” she trailed off, reaching for him.
He shrugged off her hand. “They have killed all the older people, haven’t they?” He sought confirmation for a known truth. Throughout his travels, he’d searched for people his age. He’d watched the White Steeds in hiding, and the Black Steeds grouping together to fight back. He’d seen males, females and their young children, none older than forty years. It only confirmed his suspicions. The Black Steeds, perhaps under orders from the Changers, were killing off anyone old enough to remember the days of Magdela the Monrage. Idrithar could only assume the elders had seen something or maybe even knew a dangerous secret. It was an unsettling truth to think he, in his forties, could be one of the elders of the South World, aside from the three Mermis. They were much older than him although they were intentionally vague about their age. Even the older Iaen had been frightened away, fleeing to the Pillars of Creation.
“We were airborne,” Indonesia replied. “I did not see people. Talk to me. What are you thinking?”
“Nothing we haven’t discussed before. We have achieved a great victory yet something is wrong.”
“Something is always wrong,” Indonesia muttered, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“Why are you mocking me?” he blew out his breath in frustration. “There is a reason behind every action, a reason the King of Spherical sent you and your cousins, the Blended Ones, away. There is a reason your great-grandfather was sent into exile in the Eastern World, although none explained why. The immortals are hiding something from the mortals, only those with longevity know the secret. Why?”
“Immortals versus mortals, you said it yourself, this is what is wrong with the world. Even the Wise Ones, such as you, attempt to divide people into categories. There are rich and poor, old and young, male and female, mortal versus immortal, the people groups and others. You wonder why there is dissension among the people and talking animals; you ask why the Changers rose to power, why they seek to rule the Four Worlds.” Her eyes grew earnest as she spoke, her face turning pink with passion. “I have traveled east and west, and now here I dwell in the south, because of the prophecy, and because of you. When I was young, I was naïve. I took action without asking questions; I did what I was told without asking why. A question I should have asked from the very beginning. As we grow older, a desire rises within us, a desire to right the wrongs of the world and fix old regrets. We look back on the past and see how we can create a future that benefits all. Don’t you feel it, the desire to rule?”
“Aye,” he agreed, physically relaxing. Indonesia knew how to provoke him, yet she knew him well. His secret relationship with Indonesia was one reason he’d kept silent when Dathiem and Glashar became openly affectionate during the past year. He could have stopped them, perhaps Dathiem would be alive if he had. Relationships between mortals and immortals often ended badly, yet Indonesia was the daughter of a great hero, Crinte the Wise. She carried the bloodline of mortals which made him feel less guilty. Although he kept it a secret because he was one of the Wise Ones, he was a leader; others should follow his example. His actions could be viewed in a negative light if others saw one of the leaders of the White Steeds trysting inappropriately with an immortal. Leaving her, and leaving her often, made it easier to carry their secret.
She placed her hand on his heart, listening to its rhythmic beating. “You desire peace and harmony, yet you desire to rule. As it goes, when we are young we are curious, we seek to learn the mysteries of the world. When we are older, we know what we can do to save the world, and we desire power. It is a cycle which plays out again and again. You have the Horn of Shilmi and the sword of the Alaireia, Keeper of the Clyear, what more do you want?”
“I want to know why the elders are slain and what the Green People are planning. I want to know why Eliesmore goes to Daygone, without the protection of the Green Company. I want to know why you have come and why you take the army away while the woísts are flooding the west."
“You are close to getting what you want, and I am close to getting what I want,” she remarked, deflecting his words. “The closer we come to achieving our goals, the further apart we become. Tell me, oh Wise One, what do you need from me?”
Her midnight blue hair shifted in the light. He let his gaze become warm. “Return to the fortress, build the ships, train the army. We will need them to defeat the Changers and their armies.”
“After the Changers are defeated, do you hope to rule the west?” She considered him, turning her head in a way that made him uncomfortable. He felt his blood boil.
“You ask about knowledge and power; you play with words. Indonesia, you know there must be Watchers in this world. We have discussed this before why do you keep testing me with your words?” He crossed his arms.
“It’s because you are perfect. You are always right, and you can do no wrong. Allow me some pleasure in twisting your words.” She lifted her face, taunting him. “Give me what I want so I can leave.”
Her mouth parted as her eyes fluttered between his lips and eyes. Kisses were the only way to appease her. She collected his kisses like tokens and used them against him. He covered her hand with his. “Careful,” she warned him, dropping her head to glance around the forest. “Someone could see us.” She threw his words from earlier back into his face.
He silenced her with a look, pressing her hand into his heart as he touched his lips to hers. She closed her eyes, but he kept his open as he kissed her, knowing they could be attacked at any moment.
She pulled back, a smile gracing her lips as if she’d won a great victory. “Would you like to borrow a winged a
ssistant for your journey?”
“No,” Idrithar stepped back as she let go of him. “I’ve had quite enough of air travel.” He lifted his chin, unwilling to let Indonesia see how nauseous flying made him feel.
“I will see even less of you then,” she turned on her heel.
He let her walk away, waiting for a beat before he followed her.
14
Arldrine
Year 943. (2 months earlier).
The Cascade Mountain Range.
Arldrine pulled the arrow tight in her bow, watching the woísts march toward her. She studied their hideous faces as they chanted.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep Black Evil.
Trouble. Trouble. Deep Black Evil.
Squinting she bit her tongue and let her first arrow fly, reaching back for another one as the arrow sunk into the eye socket of a woíst. It fell backward with a heavy thump, embedding its shape into the snow. The woísts paused, turning toward the tree of light, they marched toward Arldrine. She let two more arrows fly, licking her dry lips as the creatures roared, barreling toward her safe haven. Two more fell at the foot of the circle of light. A third lifted its battle ax and hurled it. Arldrine instinctively ducked out of the way as the blade zinged through the air. A whooshing sound accompanied it as it flew toward the tree. Before it hit the light, an audible shudder shook the ground, and the ax fell, useless, into the snow. Arldrine’s mouth fell open, and she reached for a branch, pulling herself to a better position to see what had occurred. A golden bubble wavered between the ground where the golden light began, and the snow ended. As if confirming the barrier, another woíst flung itself forward, intending to leap into the circle and chop down the branches until Arldrine fell. The barrier whined again, restraining the creatures as they roared in fury, struggling against the invisible force. Arldrine lifted her bow with renewed energy, unsure how long the barrier would hold. She loosened arrow after arrow, each one driving into her mark, maiming some but killing most. It wasn’t until her quiver was empty that she stopped, breathing hard from the exertion.
The woísts surrounded the tree and hacked at the invisible barrier. Gold sparks ignited, hurling them backward when they attempted to cross onto sacred ground. Arldrine dropped her empty quiver, watching it thump against the ground. The tree shook as she swung down, slumping against it as she watched the woísts. She was safe and warm, yet she was under siege. Alone. Her limbs trembled as the adrenaline from the attack faded. She did not understand; she was used to being alone, in fact, she preferred the forests of Truemonix to any other place in the South World. Why did she feel beret as if her heart had been ripped out? Why did she feel lonely?
Her body continued to quake until sobs poured out of her throat. She opened her mouth, gasping for breath as tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping off her chin. Leaning forward, she pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth as she cried. The years of pent-up emotion and unaddressed pain flowed from the depth of her being. She wept for her people, the Ezincks, who seemed to have faded from existence. She cried for the empty woods where life had forsaken even the plants. She wept for the White Steeds, broken and hopelessly striving to stand up for life when the world fought against them. She wept for the Green Company beset with trouble and tribulations. She wept for the pain in her lame foot and the creatures waiting to kill her. She wept for Zhane as he marched toward death. She wept until the tears came no more and her heart was hollow. Instead of keeping watch she leaned over and fell asleep.
When she woke, someone was holding her. Her eyes flew open in alarm taking in the gray skies, golden light and spindly branches of the tree. They wrapped around her body, holding her off the ground. Reaching out a hand, she touched an ebony branch feeling the heat that came from it. "Thank you,” she whispered.
In reply the branches curled away, placing Arldrine upright within the circle. Standing on her own two feet Arldrine knelt in front of the tree, reaching up her right hand to touch its trunk. It was alive. She could hear its spirit purring in contentment. "How long have you been here alone?” There was no reply from the tree other than the soft undercurrent, the persistent hum.
A pear fell from the tree, dropping into Arldrine’s hands. She sunk her teeth into it as she rose, noting her body felt new and fresh. Turning she took a step forward, unconsciously waiting for the numb pain to shoot through her toes. There was nothing. “Oh!” she exclaimed, looking down. She took another step, wiggling her toes as she did so. The buzzing pain was gone. Sitting down, she pulled off her boot and undid the bandage. Her foot looked fine, and even as she bent it backward and forward, she knew she was healed. Replacing her boot and standing she returned to the tree and placed her hand once again on its trunk. “What do you ask of me? I must repay your kindness."
The branches seemed to point, and turning, Arldrine saw the rest of the woísts. There were only half a dozen of them, standing, waiting for her to leave the circle. Occasionally one would step forward, testing to see if the barrier had broken. “I will slay them for you,” Arldrine vowed. She turned on her heel, pulling her dagger out of her belt. One hand balled up into a fist as she calculated how to slay the woísts. She had to be faster than them and anticipate their every move. Moving her arms away from her body she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowing everything down. She had to be sure, or she would end up dead, and the tree would be left on its own to defend against the dark creatures. She took a running start, her feet gaining speed up as she leaped over the barrier. Her hand with the dagger came out, catching the first woíst in the throat. It slumped backward, giving her enough time to spin behind it, using its dead body as a shield. She flung her dagger at a second woíst and kicked out her feet at third who was upon her. Snatching the battle ax from the dead creatures belt, she sliced at the third woíst even though she saw the other two coming up behind her. A blade whistled past her ear, so close she felt it slice through her hair. Whipping around she threw the battle ax, letting a roar escape from her throat. As she reached for a dagger from the dead woísts’ belt, the fist of a woíst punched her gut. A muffled screamed crossed her lips as she fell backward, crashing into the snow. She kicked her feet out, her bones colliding with the creature while her fingers tore through the snow, seeking something to save her.
The snow stacked up under her hands and, still kicking the creature away from her, she hurled a snowball at the one approaching. It momentarily paused, wiping snow out if its face, giving Arldrine the chance she needed. Kicking out hard she sprang up into the air, bounding upward she leaped on the back of the woíst in front of her, tucked her hands around its neck and tugged. An audible snap ripped through the air as its spine broke. The creature slumped forward as Arldrine let go, turning to face her last foe. Her hands shook from the graphic death she’d been forced to give the creature and she tossed snow out of her face. The last creature ran for her with a snarl. Arldrine bounded away as the creature dashed toward her. Flipping across the snow she hastily created another snowball, holding it up in one hand while she reached for a fallen ax. The creature eyed her, growling under its breath as it considered her actions. It picked up a dagger and flung it.
Arldrine ducked as the blade cut across her shoulder, slicing open her tunic to the skin. Cold air forced her skin to break into goosebumps as she hurled the ax in retaliation. The creature leaped out of the way, launching itself toward Arldrine. They went down together, arms flailing as they clawed at each other. Arldrine brought her knee up, slamming it into the creature’s mesh-covered chest. The woíst head-butted her, jarring her vision. Black spots danced before her eyes and warm blood dripped from her nose. Lifting her arm to block another blow she kicked her foot up, knocking the creature on its back. Her fingers came up, reaching for its neck but it slammed an elbow into her arm, breaking her concentration. Arldrine hissed at it, letting her fury take over. She lay blows around its head as it attempted to block them, finally using its size to toss her away. As Arldrin
e skidded across the ground, she saw her dagger sticking out of one creature. She scrambled for traction and reached out a hand, snatching her dagger back. Black blood oozed off of it, painting the white snow with grim horror. Running toward the creature she leaped and slashed, cutting its face open and driving the dagger into its skull. With one final swipe at her, the creature collapsed.
Arldrine rolled her shoulders back as she stood tall, surveying her work. Her eyes narrowed as intense determination gripped her, knowing she had to find her companions. Using the snow, she created a compress for her nose and cleaned her dagger before stepping back into the circle of light. Her foot stung again as she walked forward, while she knew a bruise was beginning on her abdomen. Her nose felt tender as she knelt in front of the tree, letting her heartbeat slow as she lifted her eyes.
The tree seemed to hold its naked branches higher as if thanking her. A glimmer filled the air, much like a mirror. When Arldrine blinked, a being stood before her. It was tall and stately, shaped like the tree yet it looked like clear crystal, so transparent the being was almost invisible in the golden light of the tree. Arldrine tilted her head attempting to see more of the seven-foot tall being. A vague glimmer appeared where it tented its branches, or was it hands, together and an outline bowed in Arldrine’s direction.
“You have traveled with the One?” a silvery voice shifted the air like the sound of a stringed instrument being plucked in a great hall.
Arldrine felt a sense of pure awe come over her. “Yes,” she confirmed.
Eliesmore and the Jeweled Sword Page 5