by T P Sheehan
“Did you see that?” Magnus’s fears caused Breona to jump and lose her concentration keeping to the path. He apologised to her and kept his feelings to himself.
They were both exhausted and Magnus knew they needed rest. He encouraged Breona to stop, and dismounted. Breona foraged for grass while Magnus paced along the road for a moment, feeling the soft pine needles beneath his boots. He looked to the trees, observing how the large trunks speared upward, narrowing gradually as they reached toward the sky overhead without a hint of a curve. He marvelled at how tall they were compared to the Crescent Woods back home. He took several deep breaths to calm his mind. Magnus became aware of the silence within the forest that was broken only occasionally by the call of a bird overhead whose song would be answered by another far away.
Magnus looked around to be sure no one was near then returned to Breona. He removed the pack from the saddle that Sarah had prepared for him. He laid it on the ground beside Breona and unravelled the neatly bound blanket before kneeling beside it and taking inventory of what he had. He arranged the assorted foods neatly to one side. Magnus had enough food here for a tidy feast. He took a chunk of bread from the loaf and used a paring knife to cut off a piece of cheese. Knowing he had many days of travel ahead, he spared the rest. The package also contained a small hessian bag he had not noticed before, in which there were several carrots. He fed two to Breona, who crunched them in delight. He then drank sparingly from the flask.
Satisfied, Magnus rolled up his belongings tightly into the blanket once again and looked to Breona who was resting amongst the soft undergrowth beside the road. He decided she had the right idea—they needed rest. His only concern was how visible they were to the left of the road they travelled on. He had the enchanted blanket that Sarah said would afford him cover, but this would be of little help to Breona. On the far side of the road however, the forest was more than adequate to hide them.
Magnus walked across the narrow road and peered through the trees beyond. He could see a good fifty feet before the light disappeared altogether. He looked back at Breona then took a tentative step into the trees. Magnus considered—I doubt the Valley of Shadows starts for many miles deeper into the forest than here, and who is to say where the Valley starts and ends?
Magnus suggested to Breona that they find shelter amongst these trees.
“South is the Valley. It is darker and scares me.”
Magnus appreciated Breona’s honesty and understood her fears. Still, they could not afford to lie exposed to the elements where they were. He considered that they could take turns resting whilst the other was on watch but dismissed this idea, as they were both too tired to stay awake much longer. Breona was not altogether convinced but nevertheless moved cautiously across to the darker side of the road. Magnus decided they would venture no further than was necessary and would stick together.
In amongst the thickness of the trees, Magnus relaxed a little. It seemed less dark here than it did from the road and the trees here were thicker, many of them old oaks and a mixture of pine and ash. The undergrowth was thick with ferns and various other plants Magnus had never seen before. Perhaps the Valley is not so bad after all, he thought to himself.
Confident they were hidden from the road, Magnus put his blanket of belongings on the ground beside the thick base of a tall ash, then removed his sword from over his shoulder and lay beside Breona, resting the sword upon his lap. He looked around at the wildness of the forest and out from the trees to the path that weaved its way onward through the forest. At first he tried to resist falling asleep but as he looked deeper into the darkness of the Valley around him he wondered if there was a secret world beyond the darkness—a sanctuary where he could live happily ever after. Soon, exhaustion won him over and daydreaming gave in to sleep.
CREATURE OF THE VALLEY
The sun had shifted through the sky and sat low in the west when Magnus awoke. He was curled up on the ground beside the ash tree, using his rolled up blanket as a pillow. He sat up with a start. Looking around he caught sight of Breona who had returned to the other side of the road and was chewing on grass. Magnus scanned the area but there was no sign of anyone or anything about. Resting his head back against the tree he gathered his thoughts and glanced upward along the trunk of the tree. Only a few feet above him was a creature clinging to the side of the tree. Its eyes were locked on Magnus.
Magnus froze. The creature edged closer to him, maintaining eye contact. Magnus drew a deep breath, ready to scream, but as he opened his mouth the creature stopped, tilting its head to the side as if curious about what he was about to do. Magnus hesitated and looked the creature over in more detail. He was unsure where the tree ended and the creature began, for it was so perfectly camouflaged. In fact, Magnus was sure that if it weren’t for its large, green, staring eyes he would not have seen it at all. It looked almost human-like. Its face seemed to be that of a young woman but the surface of its skin changed in complexion and colour as it moved slowly down the ash tree. Atop its head was an entanglement of twigs and leaves, spiralling shreds of bark and threaded vines, giving the appearance of voluminous, curly hair. Its body followed the same theme and Magnus found himself blushing as he observed the creature’s naked, womanly shape resting against the tree.
As if reading his mind, the creature removed her eyes from Magnus, looking herself over before returning her attention to him with a subtle smile. She pushed out from the tree with her arms, revealing the shapeliness of her upper body. Her complexion changed to a human-like milky white colour. Her lower body however, remained camouflaged against the tree.
Magnus took some heavy breaths. “Wow…” he whispered, unable to take his attention away from the creature. She placed two fingers against her now red lips and kissed them before reaching her hand toward him. Magnus watched as her delicate fingers touched his face and warmth surged from her fingers through his whole body, making him feel relaxed and content.
The womanly creature whispered to Magnus in his mind. Her voice was the most soft and gentle thing he had ever heard. All urgency and fear vanished from thought and was replaced with her promise to completely satisfy him. Magnus thought of everything that made him unsure of himself. None if it mattered any more. He no longer felt the need to hope for anything, for the instant gratification she gave him made the need to hope disappear. There was no need to hope his parents were safe, no need to hope Lucas would recover, no need to hope he would see Catanya again…
No need to hope… Magnus thought to himself.
No need to hope…
A vision of his father came to mind. He dug deep into his mind where the beautiful creature was yet to infiltrate and thought of his father’s words—
“Hope…
Hope for the best…
Assume the worst…”
Suddenly Magnus knew—he was being manipulated, his mind poisoned—just like the wyvern had tried to do. He pulled his head away from her and she smiled, reaching for him again. Magnus scampered back from the tree. Finding his sword, he unsheathed it and stood, pointing the blade at the creature. The smile left her face and was replaced with sadness. Magnus lowered the blade, feeling guilty for upsetting her. She moved away from the tree toward him. Her body’s camouflage changed again. She was now completely human, naked and seductive. She smiled again, her green eyes sparkling and Magnus smiled back to her. Reaching him, she wrapped her arms around him, embracing him, and began to infiltrate his mind once again. Everything she shared with him was so appealing. Magnus felt as if he could live in this moment forever.
“Assume the worst…”
His father’s words wrung through his mind again. Magnus tried to shake her free but she had a firm grip on both his body and mind. Her arms wrapped around him repeatedly, like fast growing vines would do to a tree. He peeled his eyes away from her seductive gaze and saw her limbs changing shape, taking the form of long strands of vine, wrapping around his body tightly. Twisting and pulling, he could
not free himself. Her mind was frantically trying to dominate his, permeating through every thought and memory he had, trying to make him replace every belief with just one—“You need me…”
“Get away from me, you witch!” Magnus screamed with his mind, unable to speak with her vines wrapped around his neck. For a moment she withdrew and Magnus sensed that he had offended her. Seizing the moment, he thrashed his body about, trying to cut the vines with the sword he still held in his left hand, but she had him bound too tight.
Digging deep into his own mind, he muttered the Fireisgh spell his father had taught him,
“Fara gin parshin-ar!”
Instantly a flash of pure white flame shot down the length of his sword. He felt the heat sear through his leather pants, and the creature let out a high-pitched scream that echoed through the forest. She pulled back from Magnus and glared at him, her green eyes now threatening rather than seductive. She looked at her own body, still naked but with a long scar down her right side from Magnus’s blade. Magnus raised the blade again, swinging it toward her. She glared and crouched to the ground. Magnus shouted angrily at her and swung the sword again. She backed toward the tree, turning her wounded side from Magnus and hissed as she looked at the sword.
The creature reached the ash tree and embraced it with one arm—still glaring at Magnus. She looked around, spotting his rolled up blanket at the foot of the tree. Lifting it up, she examined it, all the while careful not to look away from Magnus for too long.
“Damn it!” Magnus said, thinking he would lose everything that was neatly packed away in the folded blanket. Suddenly, she threw the baggage at Magnus with such might that it hit him in the stomach, throwing him back into an oak tree behind him. He struggled for breath, winded from the impact. Taking a grip of his sword again in one hand and his belongings in the other, he stood as quickly as he could. Looking back to the ash tree, he caught one last glimpse of the creature. She flashed her green eyes for the last time then closed them, blending completely into the tree.
Magnus fled back through the trees and across the road to where Breona was. She was still happily chewing on grass, oblivious to what had just happened.
“Shall we move on?” Breona asked, without a hint of concern.
Magnus looked at her closely then back over the road and into the dark woods beyond. “Did you see that? Did you hear that, Breona?” Magnus sensed some slight confusion from Breona but nothing more. It seemed that she was oblivious to his struggle with the seductive creature in the forest.
“We had best be off.”
“Aye,” replied Magnus, fastening his belongings onto Breona’s saddle. They were barely a day into the forest and already he had nearly lost himself to a creature of the Valley of Shadows. Magnus felt stupid that he had fallen for the enchantments of the forest so easily.
He slung the belt of his scabbard across his back once again and climbed back into the saddle. “Hope for the best, assume the worst,” he repeated to himself, vowing to be more focussed on his surroundings from now on. They set off once again along the road through the Outer Rim.
EAMON
Night came rapidly in Froughton Forest. Magnus cursed himself for sleeping as long as he had, for travelling in the dark was difficult. In the end he had to walk ahead of Breona to try and discern where the road lay. He dared not make a torch to light the way—other creatures of the forest would see him coming long before he knew of their whereabouts.
On more than one occasion they wandered off the road and wasted time backtracking. After several futile hours Magnus decided to stop, only this time to the left and away from the Valley on the far side of the road.
The quiet and still of the night left him alone with thoughts of the horrors of the previous night. The most haunting memory was the Quagman attacking him outside his burning house. In that moment, all his training with Ganister accounted for nothing. The dark warrior with his two black blades was not playing games. He was trying to kill me… and I was helpless against him. He pictured Ganister blocking the Quagman’s heavy blow and finally driving his sword into the man’s back. Magnus had never considered such brutal work in the act of swordsmanship. To him it had always been as much a show as anything else.
Magnus thought of his father. He had felt such disdain toward him. He shook his head in shame. What do I know of my father’s past and of the battles he’s fought? What horrors has he seen? Who am I to judge him? Magnus cursed himself then began to panic, thinking that he would never see his parents again. The Quag warriors wanted them dead—he was sure of it. And they wanted him dead too. “You are Bonstaph’s son.” Ganister’s words troubled him. Had his father done something years before to elicit such an attack? But what do they know of me? Magnus wondered.
The night passed without incident. The morning sun found a small gap in the forest canopy to throw a single blade of white light across the dirt road. Magnus ate sparingly and gave the remaining three carrots to Breona before setting off again at a good pace that they maintained throughout the day.
As night fell on them for the second time in Froughton Forest, Magnus was convinced they had travelled a good distance. “Another day’s travel and we’ll be clear of the forest.” He sensed Breona’s pleasure in that. They soon came upon a small clearing that seemed an ideal place to spend the night.
Resting in the quietness of the forest, Magnus heard a sound. It came in waves—a humming passing between the trees so naturally Magnus could almost believe the trees themselves were singing.
“Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm,” it sang. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm,” it repeated with breaks suggesting a breath between each melody. “Hmmm, aaah, hmmm…”
Magnus hummed to himself quietly along with the tune. He recognised it somehow, as though it were something from his past long forgotten. It made him nostalgic, remembering his childhood. Magnus stood and stopped mid thought—This is another forest enchantment. The forest tries again to seduce me. He peered further along the road as best he could in the darkness. The humming still resonated throughout the forest. Walking down the road a little way, Magnus could see a faint, shimmering glow of light in the distance. A fire? Has someone made camp in the forest?
Leaving Breona to rest, Magnus checked his sword was still securely strapped to his back and dared himself to wander a little way along the road in the direction of the light. He reasoned that he would not be able to rest knowing someone was camped nearby. In truth, he knew it was curiosity that urged him on.
Further down the road, the melodic humming grew louder and the light could be seen through the trees to the north. In almost complete darkness, Magnus stepped through the soft pine needles of the undergrowth, heading in that direction. Feeling for the trunk of one tree after another, he directed himself onward, the glow becoming brighter and brighter and the humming more focussed.
Magnus judged he was no more than fifty feet from the source when he heard the sound of wood crackling in a burning fire. Still, the deep voice hummed the same familiar tune. From where do I know that song? As he drew closer he grew ever more curious.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice spoke. Magnus froze on the spot. “Yes… I’m talking to you.” The voice was coming from the direction of the humming. Magnus was unsure how to respond. He slowly drew his sword. “That won’t do you much good.”
“Who are you?” Magnus called out.
“You need be only concerned with yourself.” It was a man’s voice—an elderly man perhaps. “Move around to your right. That way you’ll keep both your legs,” he continued.
Magnus thought of running but the harsh reality sank in—he had been caught. Conceding, he sheathed his sword and did as he was told, moving around to his right. After a minute’s walk, Magnus arrived at the edge of a clearing. At its centre burned the fire that threw a yellow glow across the forest canopy. In the clearing there was an array of things—strings tied between trees with clothes hung upon them to dry, a camping tripod with a simmering pot
suspended from it, a collection of books and scrolls resting upon a blanket. To the right of the fire there was a donkey, happily chewing on a collection of discarded vegetable cuttings—no doubt left over from the meal brewing in the pot. To the left of the fire, a man sat on a large fallen tree trunk.
Magnus considered the man for a moment as the man did him. His most noticeable feature was his weathered, short-brimmed hat that drooped lazily over his face. Sticking out from beneath it was a stout smoking pipe whose embers glowed when the man drew back on it and blew smoke into the air. He appeared completely relaxed, wearing what appeared to be his undergarments. He raised his chin up and folded the front of his hat back so that he could get a better look at Magnus and in doing so revealed his long, grey beard and long, grey hair.
“Good evening,” the man said. He raised his hat above his head and held it there, waiting for a reply.
“Um… good evening,” Magnus replied.
The man placed the hat beside him and looked back to Magnus, eying him up and down. Magnus guessed his age at about seventy but it was hard to tell with all the hair. He felt a little uneasy staring at a man in his undergarments, although he still wore leather boots leaving only his knobbly knees bare as he sat there.
“I apologise if I startled you before, but I’ve set a few traps about.” The old man pointed in several directions. “You were headed right into one. Like I said—your legs.”
“My legs?” Magnus was confused.
“If you’d walked into that trap, you’d have lost your legs. Make it hard to travel after that. Where are you headed?”
Magnus was not sure how to answer, so he remained silent.
“Hmph.” The old man placed his pipe next to his hat and stood, grunting from the effort. “Ah, winter approaches… a curse on my bones.” He walked over to the fire and held his hands out to warm them. He looked back in the direction Magnus had come from then back at Magnus. “Guame. I’m guessing you’re travelling to Guame, yes?”
