Shadow Soul

by R. Michael Card

  Caer was more and more evasive and standoffish these last few weeks. Actually, she’d never really been that close to him. She was always a little prickly. As hard and… independent as she was, he found her quite hard to read. She didn’t need him, and didn’t really want him, except to possibly make a child. That’s not what he wanted. The physical act of making a child — as interesting as that might be — wasn’t what he wanted. He sought more. He wanted a life with her… well with someone.

  Elria was exactly like Caerwyn in many ways: independent and aloof. Yet with Elria, he shared an interest. He’d thought they’d grown close, but if they had, then why had she run off to her family without even warning him of what lay ahead? Yes, family was important, but… Well, it just showed that they still had a lot of secrets from each other. At least Caerwyn didn’t have any secrets. Well none he knew of. Yet with Elria, he felt like there was room to grow, to learn about each other, and have some sort of a relationship. He didn’t think he’d ever have something like that with Caer.

  “Gah!” He huffed out an exasperated sigh.

  Suddenly being still, lying on the furs, wasn’t comfortable. He got up and pushed himself off the sleeping pad, standing on the earthen floor. The four men all twitched a little watching him.

  “Easy,” he said raising an empty hand to calm them. “I just need to move around a little.”

  So, he paced around the fire-pit, though that only succeeded in making him hot and sweaty and more uncomfortable.

  He moved a little away from the firebox. There was a cool breeze blowing through the longhouse which helped to cool him. But standing still just seemed to make him more fidgety and agitated.

  “Jais.”

  He nearly jumped at his name. Turning, he saw Elria entering the longhouse.

  His emotions did a strange dance within him, at the same time upset at her and happy to see her. Yet his agitation got the better of him and he snapped at her.

  “What’s going on here?” There was just too much he didn’t know, and some certainty would go a long way.

  She blushed, looking ashamed. “I be sorry, Jais.” She spoke slowly trying to work through the words, breaking the usual cadence of her language. “When clear it was, that you be heading for the Dronnolund, my homeland, I had to warn my people. Not tolerant of strangers are they, as you now see.”

  “Why didn’t you warn us… warn me?”

  She grimaced. “I knew not what to say. You gave no reasons for coming north. If nothing serious it were, I thought you might turn back, when confronted with our Bariongurd.” She sighed and looked away for a moment. When she looked back, there was an odd intensity in her eyes. “But, seeking the dragon! That… I know not what I would have done, had I known. Tried to prevent you, I might have. You do not understand—”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He heard movement behind him as he stepped in toward Elria. He saw her wave away someone. Probably those guards that had been watching him.

  She spoke in what he guessed was her native tongue. “Voen Hiyvn, haan eya ol ukah. Antakaa meille hetki.”

  Jais glanced over his shoulder, uncertain what she’d said.

  Two men had drawn closer, but then nodded at her words and returned to the others.

  “Come,” she said and took his hand.

  He let her draw him away to the door of the longhouse. There was a stronger breeze here, and it cooled his body and his temper just a little. It helped that Elria seemed genuinely distressed at all that had happened.

  She took a long moment before she spoke. He leaned in the doorway glancing at the new stars above. She stood outside.

  “My people be Dronn Egir,” she said slowly.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that mentioned,” he said. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with any of this.

  “It be more than a name. It be our title, our purpose. We are Dronn Egir.” This time he heard the separation of the words.

  He repeated them. “Dronn Egir?”

  “Yes. In our tongue it means Dragon Protector.”

  He sounded it out. “Dronn… Egir.” He could see how that might translate. “So, you keep people from the dragon? Why?”

  “It is what we do, what we have always done.” That wasn’t much of an answer, but he didn’t interrupt in case she had more to say. She did, but it took a little time for her to begin in earnest. “Our stories tell of a time, long ago when we were a few families herding sheep in these hills. The dragon came to us and we bowed to its greatness. It had found a home in the mountains and wished to make a pact. In return for protecting it while it slept, it would grant us boons. We agreed.” Her voice was wistful and distant. She turned back to him with a long breath.

  “That was…” She shrugged. “Many many years ago. A hundred generations, or more, of our people. We know only that it be passed down to us from those who came before, that we must protect the dragon. It is our calling, our quest. Do you understand?”

  He did.

  He sighed heavily. “And we come seeking that very thing you wish to keep us from.”

  She nodded.

  “The moot of elders meets now to discuss your fate. Before I came here, I tried to tell my father that you be… good people. I know not if he listened or if that will sway anyone.” She stepped in and her green eyes looked up intently into his as she laid a soft hand on his chest. “I am trusting that you be here only to seek the wisdom of the dragon, not to harm it.”

  It wasn’t a question. He got the feeling she didn’t want it to be a question because she didn’t want to risk that his answer might be something other than ‘yes,’

  He nodded. “Yes. We seek only more information of our kind, and knowledge of what we are.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Your friend called you…” She hesitated, perhaps trying to recall the word. “Drack—?”

  “Drahksan,” Jais finished for her. “Do you not know what that is?”

  She shook her head. “My father and uncle know, but tell me, they would not. In Cold River, you said a sacred being had touched you? What does this word mean drahksan?”

  He grimaced. “As far as I can tell, drahksan seems to mean that I have dragon’s blood. My ancestors were born of dragons. Something like that. But that’s the problem. We don’t really know. It’s one of the reasons we want to talk to the dragon.”

  She nodded. “But I have seen your abilities. You are a true healer. There be something special about you.” She stepped closer, very close now. Her body brushed his, and he suddenly grew quite warm again despite the night’s breeze.

  He put a hand on her shoulder, partly to increase the intimacy and partly to keep her from getting any closer. He was so uncertain what he wanted in that moment and yet didn’t want to lose the moment either. She felt both strong and fragile beneath his thick and heavy hand. There was more to her than to most women and he felt the not insignificant muscles of her shoulder move under his touch.

  “Elria…” he began but didn’t know what to say. “I…” He hoped words would come, but they didn’t.

  She seemed to sense his hesitation and apparently decided to act. It wasn’t that quick of a move, he could have stopped it, but it was quick enough that he couldn’t decide if he wanted to or not before she’d completed her action. She shifted in, just a little, lightly pressed to him and found his lips with hers.

  It was a quick kiss, a chaste kiss, but it said volumes.

  She withdrew quickly and instantly her cheeks flushed crimson. “I be sorry.” He got the feeling she was apologizing for so much more than just the kiss, but everything happening. She looked down, away and shook her head. “Sorry,” she repeated at a whisper and this time he felt a cold feeling in his gut.

  He thought he knew what she was saying: that this ‘moot’ she spoke of would not go well for him. He was suddenly quite curious and afraid of what might happen if it didn’t.

  “Elria, if the others decide we are trespassing. What will happen to us
?”

  She swallowed. “Perhaps you will be expelled?”

  He didn’t like the question in her voice and his hand on her shoulder tightened just a bit. “Elria?”

  She lifted her head, but still couldn’t bring her eyes to meet his. Her lips pressed together for a long moment before she spoke. “You know of the dragon. That be a secret the others may not wish to be spread.”

  “We wouldn’t tell anyone!” he hissed softly, but then wondered. Would they? If they met other drahksani, would those people not deserve to know of their… ancestor up in these hills?

  “They would want to be certain.” Her voice was choked up. Tears coming to her eyes.

  Jais voice was hard, his hand falling away from her. “We would be killed.”

  She nodded.

  Well that wouldn’t be a particularly great end to his day.

  The cold feeling in his stomach grew. He wanted to ask how it would be done but couldn’t bring himself. It was too much to contemplate. He was trying to be strong and not break down, begging for his life. He didn’t know if she’d have any say in it anyway.

  “Return I should, perhaps I can speak for you. I…” she shook her head and trailed off. “Goodbye,” she whispered and turned to go.

  She nearly ran into a large man heading their way from the leader’s longhouse.

  The man looked at her, then toward Jais.

  His voice was even, unreadable. “The moot has decided.”

  15

  Caerwyn kept her breathing even and slow.

  She and Volf were well hidden. The barbarian patrol passing only a few feet away had given no indication of having seen them. The three warriors walked slowly, glancing around themselves, but their gazes never locked onto where Caerwyn and Volf crouched amid some brush.

  Caerwyn couldn’t help but find it fascinating that this culture had women warriors. One of those in the patrol passing them was a woman, tall and well built, like Caerwyn herself. And there had been three in the patrol that had taken Barami and Jais.

  Fascinating.

  It was true that Caerwyn’s experience of the world was limited, though much more encompassing than most. She’d lived in Domara, in the northwest as a girl, then Afgen, in the south, and now had traveled back north again years later into what was the central northern part of the continent. In all that travel, she’d never once encountered a culture that accepted women as warriors, at least not easily. The only reason she’d been accepted in the South was because of her superior skill and ability, but mostly because she’d been the adopted daughter of a prince, which had given her expanded opportunities.

  Yet from what she could tell of this strange Northern culture, women were accepted as equal combatants. The one women — Hildr — had even looked to be in command of the party that captured Jais and Barami. Such thoughts were a distraction. She should be concentrating on freeing her friends, but she kept wondering what it would be like to be so accepted.

  “They’re well gone now,” Volf said in whisper near her ear. She felt a slight thrill at his soft voice and warm breath, as one can only get from such near contact.

  She nodded. “This way.” She rose and looked quickly about for any other patrols before moving on quietly.

  They had lost sight of their friends with the need to move more cautiously. Volf had said his ability to hide himself was limited, that he couldn’t do it for an extended period of time, especially hiding both of them. If it had just been him… maybe.

  So they’d had to move with care through the high rolling hills. They’d spotted the village on the plateau before it became full dark and it was easy enough to find now as it was well lit. They were still some distance from it however, moving strategically to avoid as many of the barbarians as they could.

  In her mind, Caerwyn worked through the problems they’d face as they drew closer. First would be increased patrols. These people knew she and Volf were out here somewhere. Second were the lookouts at the village itself. Third would be the wooden wall surrounding the area and its single gate — that she’d seen. She had to assume the gate would be guarded. That meant they’d need to most likely scale the wall at some other location while avoiding the patrols and the view of the lookouts. It was full dark now and that would make it easier, but by no means guaranteed. There might be a stretch of time where they’d need to use Volf’s ability, though she didn’t know how well it might work on them while climbing. She should find out.

  She stopped to hide in a thicket of pine trees, which crowded close, filling the air with their fresh, tangy scent.

  She took a moment to listen just in case any patrols might be near but heard nothing except the noises of night.

  Volf had told them some bits of what he knew of his abilities in the days as they’d traveled north, but specifics hadn’t been needed until now. “Your ability to hide yourself. How does it work, exactly?” she asked. She didn’t look at him, keeping a wary watch out beyond their hiding spot instead.

  “Ah… well I’m not sure I’ve really thought about it much.”

  “But you can use it when you wish?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know how it hides you?”

  “Ah… yes, I think. I’ve always called it my ‘shadow-self,’ I just thought I was being particularly sneaky, enough that others didn’t see me even when I was close. I hadn’t started thinking about how until just these last few days. I know that I can…” He harrumphed, perhaps searching for the right words. “I can flash it on and off and that seems to scare people. I don’t know what they see, whether I’m there then not, or whether some shadow jumps over my form. I know that the world dims a little, as you perhaps recall from your time hidden as well.”

  This was easily solved.

  “Very well, do it now and I’ll tell you what I see… or don’t see.” She turned toward him. He was quite close. She’d known that from feeling the heat of his body near hers, but now she found his face surprisingly close to hers. She didn’t flinch or fear the closeness, in truth he had rather pleasant features especially when he was grinning under that hawkish nose of his, as he was now. He’d been eating well since they’d met and his once ‘bony’ cheeks had filled out a little. It was still a little awkward being this close though, almost nose to nose.

  “Very well,” he said softly and then vanished.

  It was hard to tell because she had only the dim light of the moon filtering down through the pines, but it had seemed like he’d been swallowed by the shadows around him. She reached up, tentative, and felt his arm where it should have been. He was still there, just not visible.

  He chuckled softly, a sound from nowhere, then was back.

  This time she did flinch at his sudden nearness, despite knowing he was there, despite her hand on his arm.

  “Well?” he whispered.

  “It—”

  His fingers were on her lips, covering her mouth and silencing her as his head suddenly cocked to one side.

  What had he heard?

  She listened.

  Voices, low and near.

  She froze.

  The words spoken by those who approached became clearer after another moment. “…think are in there? A few dozen? More?” someone asked.

  “No one knows much about the Dronnegir. They’re big, live secluded up here, and are fierce warriors.”

  “Do we think that’s where they are?”

  The voices stopped nearby.

  “I…”

  Caerwyn peered out through the pines as this person spoke and saw his face illuminated by the moonlight.

  Gosse. Her hunter.

  And even as she looked out he turned toward her. She ducked back behind the trunk of a tree, hoping the sudden movement hadn’t given her away.

  How could he have known?

  “What is it?” one of the others with him asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure if they’re in there, but…” He grumbled a little bit. “Nothing, you’re
probably right.”

  There was a high-pitched sound, odd… like a laugh or chuckle, then from the same voice, “A stronghold of hardened warriors. I haven’t had this much of a challenge in some time. This should be fun.” The way the man said the word fun sent a chill down Caerwyn’s spine. He wasn’t afraid. He was actually anticipating this. What sort of man wanted the carnage of battle?

  The sort of man Gosse had banded up with.

  Yet from the little she knew of Gosse, he’d never been one for bloodlust. He’d never endangered others to get to her. When she’d been in the South, he hadn’t threatened her family or the people there. Instead, he’d exposed her to get her to leave so he could face her alone. It had only been the anger of her father at losing his daughter that had saved her. He’d demanded Gosse stay as his ‘guest’ for several weeks. There hadn’t been any debate.

  What was the man up to now?

  The men moved on, their voices fading away.

  A touch on her arm made her flinch. The second time that night. What was happening with her?

  “Who was that?” There was concern in Volf’s voice. “You looked…” He fumbled for words for a moment.

  It was only then that she realized her heart was racing, hammering in her chest.

  “Scared?” she ventured the word.

  She saw the faint nod of his head in the dim and dappled moonlight.

  “I was.” She sighed. It only occurred to her then, that she’d gotten Volf into a whole new world of trouble by involving him. He had a right to know. “That man… one of those men is hunting me… us”

  “What?”

  Suddenly she felt the need to move. She crept to the edge of the pines, feeling their needles scrape along the skin of her cheeks and hands, brushing over her clothes. She ignored that.

  At the edge she peered out, looking in the direction the men had headed. The direction she’d been headed. She could still see their forms moving in the darkness, they weren’t that far away yet. There were six of them.

  They descended into a valley and out of sight, and she emerged from the trees turning back to Volf who’d followed her.