Emerald Fire

by Kathryn Blade

  Few safe passages existed on the southeastern portion of the river. At least three known tributaries branched from the river, increasing its danger. Loriann and Kaegan’s party turned northwest, riding alongside the turbulent waters as they searched for a safe crossing. A half day’s ride after their journey started, a scout returned with news of safe passage to the northeast.

  Kaegan sat astride a bay destrier surveying the potential river crossing. The churning water, tinged with reddish brown sediment from recent rains, looked less than promising from his viewpoint. The destrier pawed at the earth, tossing its head as if sensing Kaegan’s unease.

  “Loriann?” He sought her opinion on the crossing as the innate wisdom and prudence she had demonstrated in the past had set the men’s nerves at rest.

  “Not much better than what the river has shown us to the southeast.” She watched the rust-tinged water flow by.

  She only revealed her powers to those who represented a threat. Most of the men had observed her powers in the sparring match at Waelcombe Keep several weeks before. The river crossing was an integral part of their journey. Without it, their paths would turn southwest to detour around the river. The route would force them to travel through the wetlands and Manswall Glade, a torturous haunted swamp that had ended many a life.

  “We can’t lose any more time,” she called out to the men. “Steady your horses.”

  Loriann dismounted, handing the mare’s reins to Kaegan. She walked forward, pausing less than a foot from the river’s edge, then squatted as both hands swirled the chilly water. The water solidified into ice, cracking and creaking as it stilled the current’s roar.

  Although the men had observed a prior demonstration of her power in the sparring match, they unprepared for the sight that beheld them as Loriann stood. The frozen river ran as far northeast and southwest as they could see. Many of the less seasoned horses grew nervous, heads tossing, hooves stamping hard enough to tear grass from the rich, dark earth.

  She took the reins from Kaegan, mounted the mare, then urged the horse onto the ice. A hand stroked the mare’s withers as her hooves touched the frozen surface. “Come on girl, that’s it. Gently now.” Loriann urged the mare forward until the mare’s hooves found the solid ground of the far bank.

  “Quickly now, cross over, single file, one man at a time. It won’t last forever,” she called across to the men.

  A man paused beside Kaegan, head nodding toward Loriann and the group of men who had joined her. “I’m not so sure we need those allies to the south, Kaegan. I’ve seen her wield ice and fire as well as we wield a blade and shield. I saw her tear the earth apart in Vadhen, then this. Is there any of her powers we’ve not seen?”

  Kaegan grinned as the men rode past him to attempt the new river crossing. “Not that I’m aware of. But we haven’t met Cedric or Willem on the battlefield yet either. Who knows what she has planned for those fellows.”

  “Gods be with them,” the man replied in a low voice. “I’m glad she’s on our side.”

  “As am I. What’s say we cross this river before Loriann’s ice bridge melts?” The two men joined the others.

  All the men who had pledged their sword to Loriann’s mission let out a cheer of triumph when all were safely across. The circling githok joined the men as their screeching cries echoed across the land.

  ***

  Ebin’s journey south to Riverpoint was without incident. It was as if the gods knew of the urgency of his mission. The weather remained temperate and roadways clear of threats. The beauty of Riverpoint was something he knew of through conversations with others who traveled to the remote fishing village. Words did little to express the allure of the wind-swept land.

  Stilted huts sat along the pearly sands of the beach or on the bank of the river. The aquamarine waters of the calm river flowed directly into the sparkling sapphire waters of the sea.

  Darkly tanned, muscular men and women strode about as they fished or attended to other daily duties necessary to ensure the village’s survival. Children ran and played on the paths twisting through the village, along the beach, and on the riverbank. Their angelic laughter carried on the ocean breeze. Ebin and his men sat motionless, eyes darting from one site to another, entranced with the simple beauty of this place.

  The children were the first to welcome them as they rode into the village. A girl of no more than six years with a wild mane of gold-kissed curls waved at Ebin as he passed. Other children ran toward the group of men, their sing-song laughter and chatter filling the air.

  “Hallo! Hallo!” Each child joined in the greeting as they lined up along the path leading toward the center of the village. All visitors and travelers received a warm welcome from the children.

  Ebin dismounted as his men did upon arriving at the center of the village. He directed the men to tend the horses but remain watchful. A man with greying blonde hair called out in greeting, beckoning for Ebin to join him.

  “I am Ebin Quidell, an emissary from his majesty Derek Rainer, king of the southern holds,” he bowed to show his respect for the man.

  “We know who you are, Ebin Quidell. Loriann Astus and Kaegan Vaith have told us many stories of their time with you in Astor. I am Haymo Molnar, leader of this humble village. How can we be of service to you?” Haymo continued to examine a fishing net, repairing areas of netting as he spoke. The movements of his hands were rapid, occurring almost intuitively as the shuttle passed in and through the netting.

  “I come to ask for your allegiance in the war with King Cedric.” Ebin hoped his voice did not reflect his nervousness. He only hoped to be almost as skillful as Loriann was with negotiating with potential allies.

  Haymo paused, holding the net in his hands, staring at the children as they ran and played. “We are not a large village. There would be none here to protect our women, children, and elders if someone sought retribution.”

  “Anything would help our cause, my lord.”

  “I am without noble ranking. Call me Haymo,” the man said with a smile. He beckoned for Ebin to join him on a bench sitting beneath a palm tree. “Have Loriann or Kaegan shared with you what happened here?”

  “Someone tried to assassinate her. I’m glad they were unsuccessful.” Ebin accepted a mug of ale from a village woman, nodding in thanks before taking a sip.

  “It was much worse than that,” Haymo replied. “They do not speak of it. The pain is still too great.”

  Ebin could not imagine what had occurred in the village all those months ago. Archmage Orizahr told him only that an assassin sent by Willem Jarin attempted to end Loriann’s life. “Would you tell me what happened?”

  Haymo sighed, a drawn-out sound that bore a dark tone. “The assassin came as a peddler, selling trinkets and food. The children loved the dates he gave them, as any child would. Loriann came to see what type of trinkets he might have. Something perhaps for the baby after it was born.”

  “A baby? Gods! They never mentioned a baby.”

  “The assassin gave Loriann poisoned dates. Thankfully, she realized it before swallowing it. She lived, but the child did not. Diota Swann, our midwife for many moons, came to render aid. It was too late.”

  A coldness filled the pit of Ebin’s stomach, an ache growing within his heart as he thought of the pain Loriann and Kaegan had experienced that day. “What happened after that?” unshed tears choked his voice as he thought of his dear friends.

  “Only the midwife was there to witness those final moments. Loriann held the baby as it died in her arms. Kaegan built a pyre in their fireplace. He placed the baby’s ashes in a small carved chest, not once did he shed a tear. I fear his pain was as great as Loriann’s. They remained here until Loriann was strong enough to travel. Kaegan burned the hut before they left. I wonder if it was not his way of trying to destroy the pain of those events.”

  Haymo took a long drink from the mug. Unshed tears shimmered in his eyes. The events of that day saddened the villagers. It was a dark memor
y carried by all who had witnessed it.

  Ebin remained silent, unable to speak, his throat clogged with a silent sob. He now understood Loriann’s hatred for Willem Jarin and King Cedric. One man had placed a bounty on her head, the other had taken her baby’s life.

  “Gods! How could someone do that? How?” Ebin found his voice at last.

  “Only a man with no heart would harm a woman carrying child. We cannot provide men for the war, but we have other things as valuable.” Haymo stood, clapping Ebin on the back.

  “Come, let me show you.”

  Haymo led him along the path to a hut nearly three times the size of the others. It sat amid several palm trees that protected the hut from the sun’s bright rays. The bamboo door creaked open, revealing nearly three dozen barrels. Haymo removed the top of one barrel to reveal dried fish packed in a thin layer of salt.

  “Each day, my friend, we catch much more fish than we can eat. We dry the rest and pack it in salt. We sell and trade, but there is always plenty left. Those who fight need food.”

  “Splendid!” Ebin exclaimed, a smile returning to his face. He no longer thought of past horrific events.

  “That is not all,” Haymo added. He opened the top of a cask sitting on a stool in a corner of the hut.

  Dried crimson mushrooms mottled with yellow specks lay inside the cask. “I’m not sure I understand what these are for,” Ebin admitted. “More food I suppose.”

  A toothy grin appeared on Haymo’s face. He placed an arm about Ebin’s shoulders, leaning close to speak in the man’s ear as if sharing a closely guarded secret. “Loriann found these while she was here. They grow in abundance where palm trees grow thick near the river, farther upstream. She taught us how to harvest and prepare these.” Haymo slapped Ebin’s hand away as he reached to touch the mushrooms.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ebin muttered.

  “No offense, Ebin Quidell. I only did that to save your life. Loriann found the poison that lies within these things. Only I and one other know the secrets of preparing tinctures from this. It kills within seconds, and there is no remedy to reverse its effect.”

  “I’ll be damned. She astounds me!”

  “Loriann Astus has knowledge and an understanding of things wise men can only hope to grasp. Perhaps she can save our world from King Cedric and his king’s guard.”

  Ebin watched as Haymo carefully closed the cask. Loriann excelled with alchemy while she studied at Baeliton Keep. He knew just how the poison could help their war. The visit to Riverpoint was fruitful beyond his imagining.

  ***

  Chapter 13

  Torgough Woods

  Kaegan and Loriann rode side by side toward the thick forest known as Torgough Woods. The rolling hills continued endlessly in all directions. Oak, pine, and other trees replaced thick grass and wildflowers. Derek’s men followed behind them. The githok circled overhead, occasionally swooping downward to fly directly over their heads.

  The outskirts of the forest appeared before them less than half a day’s ride from the river crossing. The sparse trees on the outskirts thickened considerably deeper within the forest. Birds called out from their perches higher up in the leafy canopy.

  Kaegan ordered scouts to travel ahead of the party to find a suitable place for camp. The scouts returned to report they had located a suitable site nearby. The men set up camp, built fires, and set a schedule of sentries to keep watch throughout the night.

  Loriann sat with her back against a massive oak tree. She scanned the trees overhead as a sense of unease built within her. Kaegan noticed the change in her behavior. He sat beside her with his back against the same tree.

  “What troubles you, Loriann?” His hand enfolded hers within its grasp.

  “Something stalks us,” she whispered. “Not close enough to harm us yet, but close.”

  “I can double the number of sentries. That should get us through the night safely.” He squeezed her hand before leaning over to press his lips against hers for a second. “You should rest.”

  “There will be no rest tonight. I must stay awake to protect the men.” Her emerald eyes continued to scan the leafy canopy overhead.

  “The men can protect themselves, Loriann. All of them are capable fighters.”

  She stiffened then stood up and walked to the southern perimeter of the camp. Kaegan followed close behind. He called out to the men to be ready. He was thankful that none of them had fallen asleep yet.

  A volley of arrows landed within inches of Loriann’s feet. A wall of emerald flame raced outward from her body past the camp’s perimeter. It blackened the wood shaft of the arrows piercing the ground. The fletching of each one smoldered.

  “I don’t know who you are but do not threaten these men,” Loriann called out. “Do not hide in the darkness. Come face me.”

  Kaegan drew his sword as he called out to the men, “Weapons at the ready!” Anger grew inside him when he saw how close the arrows had come to her feet.

  “You need not worry about me, Kaegan. I’m always ready to take on cowards who hide in the darkness.”

  “I always worry about you, my lady. I’ll kill any man who dares harm you.”

  “If I don’t kill them first,” she laughed as another wave of emerald flame danced outward into the forest. “Speak to the men. I think the flames have them rattled.”

  A man’s voice called from the darkness. “We do not know you. Only fools enter the Torgough Woods. We protect what is ours.”

  “My name is Loriann Astus, and I am no fool,” Loriann replied. “Let us talk, there is no need of bloodshed.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” the man called out. “You wield flames as we wield bows and arrows.”

  Areas of the forest remained on fire. Small bushes flickered with flames. The forest’s rubbish covering the ground turned to blackened ash. Loriann made a graceful, circular motion with a raised hand. A wave of ice and frost crackled across the burning ground. It extinguished the remaining flames.

  Loriann spoke to the unknown man, “The flames no longer threaten you. Come join us by the fire in camp. No harm will come to you. You have my word.”

  A tall man with long blonde hair appeared from the smoke and darkness. He carried a carved wooden bow in one hand. He wore a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. He wore leather breeches and a leather shirt. He bowed as he spoke. “I am glad we could find a peaceful resolution. My men did not want to fight you, Loriann Astus. I am Garyson Dwighte, leader of the folk that live in Torgough Woods.”

  Kaegan bowed and introduced himself to the man. Loriann nodded and smile. The men who milled about moved aside as Kaegan, Loriann and the stranger walked toward the campfire.

  They sat on the ground cross-legged. The man in charge of cooking offered them bowls of stew.

  Loriann took the first bite of stew, chewed and swallowed the mouthful. She smiled at Garyson. “It’s not poisoned. Please enjoy some stew while we talk.”

  “We’ve heard rumors of what goes on in the world now. King Cedric drinks himself into a stupor every night. Willem Jarin has gone mad. King Derek plans to overtake the Olde World,” Garyson replied. “Why do you come to here?”

  “We need your help. Willem Jarin may be mad, but he is a skilled commander and warrior in his own right. King Cedric is the wealthiest man in the Olde World. He can afford to hire cutthroats from across the land, possibly from the New World.” Loriann took another bite of stew. She continued to search the darkness for more of Garyson’s men.

  Kaegan hoped he could add his voice to the negotiations. “As bad as King Cedric is, imagine what our world will be like if Willem Jarin takes the throne. We know firsthand of his cruelty. He will do anything to take power in the north and eventually in the Olde World.”

  Garyson spoke after he had swallowed the mouthful of stew. “Tell me how you know of Willem Jarin’s cruelty.”

  Loriann’s face became flat and emotionless. The only sign of emotion came
from the depths of her shimmering emerald eyes. “King Cedric put a price on my head for no reason other than the rumor regarding the prophecy. I would have been happy to live my life with Kaegan, thinking nothing of war and the troubles between rulers. Willem Jarin hired an assassin to take my life.”

  “Yet here you are, my lady. Obviously, the assassin was unsuccessful,” Garyson replied.

  “The assassin took something more precious than my life. Kaegan and I lost our child that day, a babe that was not ready to face the harshness of this world.” Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. One escaped and ran down one cheek. “Do you know what it’s like to hold your babe in your arms at your breast only to watch the life leave his body? Do you?” The bowl of stew fell to the ground. She stood and fled to the relative safety of a massive tree on the perimeter of the camp.

  Kaegan’s eyes, bright with unshed tears, followed her. “That’s the first time she’s talked about what happened. I’d wager we’re all lucky she didn’t allow the magic to get out of control. The pain is still deep and fresh in her heart. Think about what she’s said, Garyson. You and your men are welcome to join us. We’ll talk on the morrow. I must go to her.” Kaegan rose to his feet and joined Loriann.

  Garyson watched as Kaegan joined Loriann. The giant of a man took the slight form in his arms. No one dared disturb them as they relived the painful memory.

  Garyson’s men joined him in the camp. The men who accompanied Loriann and Kaegan provided them with food. The two groups of men exchanged pleasant conversation as they sat by the fire. An occasional man ventured to the place where Kaegan and Loriann sat against a tree. Garyson could see that only Kaegan spoke. Loriann remained silent, eyes staring out at the darkness. They spent the night comfortably warm by the fire.

  Calling birds welcomed dawn’s first light. The men roused themselves from the warmth of their bedding. Kaegan and Loriann came to sit with Garyson and his men by the fire in the center of the camp. Loriann did not speak or take food. Dark circles marred the pale skin beneath her eyes.