“Have we still not made contact with Kester?” Straiah asked in surprise.
“Not in any significant way. But Bowen is back with them. He'll explain things. You and Gwaren are free to choose among any of the soldiers to join you. One last thing. I don't know what you'll encounter. The beast, Arathama, we met in Thob Forest at Lake Enlath may be only a taste of the dangers that lurk there.”
Straiah smiled, remembering the encounter with the ape-like, amphibious beast. Monsters concerned him little. But he glanced back at the tent where Estrien lie sleeping.
“We'll give her the best of care while you're gone,” Sheabor said.
“I know. Some time apart might actually be just what we need.”
Sheabor didn't fully take his friend's meaning but he didn't press him. Then the two parted company, each on their own errand.
Estrien awoke to an empty tent, which was uncommon, for Straiah was nearly always by her side. Slowly, she pushed herself up, clutching her side, which throbbed in pain. After a few moments of dizziness, she was surprised to find herself hungry. It seemed like a lifetime ago she had wanted to eat. But this morning, she'd awoken ravenous. Straiah would've never permitted her to leave in her condition, but she took advantage of his absence and dressed for a walk in the cool air. Perhaps the midday meal was even being served.
Estrien raised her arms above her head and stretched, her side very sore but thankfully not the sharp, stabbing pain from before. Because it hadn't been allowed to heal properly, the healer said she would always feel it. That was good enough for her. It was time she got back to her duty. Straiah had kept her informed of all the happenings of the city, having healed much faster than her, for Gwaren had attended to his wounds immediately. She had lost much more blood than he, and had taken a fever.
Estrien stepped outside into the cool morning air, a chill immediately hitting her, freezing her to the bone. She very nearly returned to bed, but the warm aroma of food beckoned her and she made her way slowly with cradled arms. Coming not half way to the town's center, her side throbbed painfully and the gusting breeze stole what little appetite she'd mustered. But Estrien set herself to seeing her walk through.
Arriving at town square, the exertion warmed her body and the many passersby were elated to see her, which warmed her heart. Estrien came to the edge of the assembly but paused and rested her hand against a stack of wooden boxes, catching her breath until a chill once more threatened her bones. She sensed that someone was watching her and she glanced over to find Straiah standing close by with a plate of food already in hand, a surprised look on his face.
He wasted no time in coming to her side, wrapping his coat around her. She pulled it snugly with an embarrassed smile. It was warm and carried a hint of his familiar scent. She looked at him sheepishly, preparing to be chastised for coming out of doors without a blanket or something more substantial than a simple coat of homespun wool. But he showed an excitement in his countenance instead.
“You're out of bed!”
“I thought a nice walk might do me good,” she replied. “I'm very fond of the open air.”
He nodded and smiled.
“Has your appetite returned?” he asked, offering his plate.
“I um,” she stammered, knowing the morning meal was her true aim, but not wanting to take his provender from him.
But the exertion had made her quite weak, and she accepted his offering. He outstretched his hand toward a quiet place where they could sit, placing his hand on her back to lead her on. She felt a rush of mixing emotions not expecting to see him here. Though he'd been always near her while they both recovered, it was different now that she was on her feet.
He invited her to sit and then left for another plate. She ate slowly, the taste of food better than the smell had promised. When he returned, he sat opposite her and smiled, happy just to watch her enjoy a warm meal for the first time in weeks. She could tell he eagerly wanted to speak with her, but he refrained for the time being, allowing her the simple enjoyment of food, which she greatly appreciated. The last time she had truly been coherent, she had told him that she felt nothing for him, that they would never be together. But the way he was treating her now, it didn't make sense.
“Your color's returned,” he observed.
He opened his mouth as if to say more, but didn't, gazing at her warmly instead. She could tell by the way he was looking at her that he wanted to compliment her further, perhaps tell her she looked beautiful. But he stopped himself. Then his countenance grew troubled, as he seemed to search for words.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did in the forest,” Straiah said. “I couldn't see it at the time but your actions saved everyone. If Sheabor had died in that ambush...I would never have forgiven myself.”
Estrien nodded, but she felt another wave of mixing emotion, not sure how to take his offer of thanks. She had told him she was glad for what the leaders of Melanor had done to her, and that she didn't have any feelings for him. Was he merely thanking her for the outcome, or was he actually thanking her for breaking off their relationship?
What she had said to him in the forest hadn't really been true. She did have feelings for him. She opened her mouth to say so, but the notion struck her that it wasn't fair for her to tell him how she really felt. They couldn't have a relationship. Better to let things stay as they lay... let him try to move on.
“I'll be leaving here soon,” Straiah said. “First light tomorrow morning.”
“Where?”
“Sheabor asked Gwaren and me to begin patrolling the Westward Wilds, to make sure Corcoran doesn't establish himself on this continent.”
Estrien's gaze grew troubled.
“It's for surveillance,” he assured. “We won't engage their forces except to escape.”
“But you're not at full strength. They could ambush you. You'd be killed.”
“I know. It's a risk. But it's necessary. Gwaren and I have a better chance of surviving than anyone. And we won't go alone. I promise you. We'll have a small contingent with us.”
“I don't like it,” she said. “Corcoran has been a move ahead of us every step of the way.”
“I know,” he said, and took her hand in his. “But we've prevailed.”
They sat there for many moments, eyes locked.
“Straiah, I...” she said and paused, looking to the ground. She didn't have the right words to say and when she looked up again, his was a gaze of warm affection.
“I know,” he responded, squeezing her hands tightly.
The two embraced, and as they did, she felt him grow subtly tense, as the shock of some intervening force crept in between them. He brushed it off as though it were nothing, but it frightened her how their closeness affected him. He saw the anxiety in her countenance and stood to his feet. She arose as well, blushing awkwardly. But he quickly regained his composure.
“Just know that I'm okay with how things are,” he concluded. “You saved me from a terrible mistake and I'll never thank you enough for that.”
She only nodded with a smile and fought back the tears forming. She wanted desperately to know how he really felt, but couldn't bring herself to ask him. She knew in her heart of hearts that it was selfish of her to try and hold onto a man that she couldn't be with.
“Can I walk you back to the tent?” he asked.
“No, please. I'm going to stay here awhile. And I'm sure you're very busy preparing for your mission.”
He nodded, for it was the truth. He turned to her one last time with a sigh.
“I'm just so glad you're feeling better.”
He stroked her hand gently in his. Then he bowed and departed. Straiah hadn't selected any of the men for his scouting party. And if they truly were to leave in a day or two, it was unfair of him to wait any longer. Estrien watched him depart, wishing circumstances were different. She stayed on for the better part of the morning, the sunlight warming her face and invigorating her spirit, until weariness compelled
her slowly back to the medical area, a contented smile on her face for the encounter fate had brought her. Though she didn't know exactly where she and Straiah stood, she trusted that in the end, it would all work out. Then Estrien swiftly fell to sleep.
The Ocean
The wooden bow of a small boat creaked and heaved atop the rolling ocean swells, a motion Durian had finally grown accustomed to. He'd never had such a violent reaction on any of the fishing boats in Boreol Bay, but then, the bay was largely sheltered from the movements of the open sea.
After many days of unease, Durian awoke one morning feeling finally renewed. And now that his stomach had calmed, he found the rocking actually quite soothing. Pallin was managing the wind in their single-sailed sloop as usual, though the unseen current below did the real work of hurrying them toward their destination, the Banished Lands.
The water was a beautiful blue, different than the darker, grayish hue of Boreol Bay. Durian had never imagined he would find himself on the open ocean. Few in Suriya ever strayed beyond the sight of land, for tales of what lurked in the deep places of the ocean abounded. Pallin seemed unconcerned but that comforted Durian little, for Pallin often assured that there was nothing to fear, when in fact there was much to fear.
“Pallin, how long do you expect till we reach the Banished Lands?”
Pallin only shook his head.
“And how are we to return once we retrieve the orb with your powers?”
But that too remained a mystery.
“We may find something in the tomb of King Euthor to aid us,” Pallin offered. “And if not, then we will seek out Sheabor's people, the House, Cavanah.”
Durian nodded slowly, quelling his doubts over the obvious frailty of their plan, knowing things would work out in the end. Instead, he let his mind wander to something else which still greatly intrigued him.
“Pallin, tell me more about the old world. I still don't understand what led up to the Great War. What caused Madrigan to turn evil and become Corcoran? I remember you saying that there was growing discontent among the people of mixed heritage, but discontent is a far cry from open war, especially when they already had a country of their own to call home.”
Pallin's gaze grew distant.
“It was a very complicated time,” he said slowly. “But in some ways, I suppose the problem was quite ordinary and simple. You see, Sheyla was...”
Pallin took a deep breath and sighed, searching for the right words.
“Well, she was unique among women – unequaled in grace and beauty. She had a way about her I cannot adequately describe, and the prince, Euthor, was not, at that time, the only man who vied for her attentions.”
Durian recalled the form of Sheyla entombed in crystal...the same woman he had seen in his dreams. She was indeed strikingly beautiful but he didn't know what Pallin was getting at.
“A young man named Madrigan also desired a place in her heart.”
Durian's eyes went wide.
“King Euthor and Corcoran were both in love with the same woman?”
Pallin nodded slowly.
“It is not a well known fact,” Pallin said. “But in many ways, the Great War was really a struggle borne from two men after the heart of one woman. Sheyla was of humble beginnings, a farm girl. Madrigan came across her in his many wanderings, and was immediately taken with her. He thought she was a kindred spirit, preferring the open countryside and the beauty of the natural world to life in a crowded city. He would come to visit her often, convinced he could win her heart.
But fate soon brought a chance encounter. Once, when Prince Euthor was coming home from the outskirts of the kingdom, he was weary from travel. So he took a shorter route through the pasturelands surrounding Eulsiphion instead of taking the main road. This was unlawful to do, but he permitted himself the extravagance.
Sheyla was out working in the field and saw him. Instead of driving him away from her family land, she had compassion on him and gave him a drink of water from a nearby spring. He was dressed as a simple traveler and she had no reason to suspect him of being something more. He was surprised by her kindness, and taken with her beauty. He saw in her the compassion that would win the love of his people.
As time went on, Prince Euthor came to visit her again, still dressed as a modest traveler. He wanted to know if she felt anything for him before revealing to her who he really was. Only when he knew her feelings for him were true did he finally invite her to Eulsiphion to meet the king, his father, Cithran.
Madrigan learned of their attachment but could scarcely believe it. He thought her merely enamored by the prince's title. He didn't know the lengths Prince Euthor had gone to to determine her true feelings. Madrigan sought to win her back with a bold declaration. He wrote her a love poem:
Beneath the shadows of an old oak tree
There lays a place of memory;
By forest shapes and swaying shades,
Where all to stillness swiftly fades;
Where tender whispers fill red skies,
Bringing mist to thoughtful eyes.
Oh come, sweet girl, run away with me
From their empty high society,
To the place where lifetimes swiftly pass
Neath oaken leaves and windswept grass;
We'll catch the sunlight's final beams
And fade away to wondrous dreams.
And there we'll learn those mystic arts
Which mesmerize entwining hearts,
As sleepy stars come out to shine,
To wonder at what's yours and mine;
And all the seasons of life and change,
We'll watch and laugh and rearrange...
But he underestimated her feelings for the prince, and Euthor and Sheyla were soon engaged, Madrigan's declaration of love forgotten. It was then that Madrigan began speaking of the blessed realm, Eskédrin, that he saw in his dreams. And he began to gain a following, for Madrigan was a welcome guest in each of the Three Houses, since he visited each in his wandering. The discontent amid the Houses drove many to join him, dreaming of forming a new House.
Madrigan knew that fundamental to each person is the need to belong. A person will do anything to find a place where his skill and toil are appreciated and needed. He'll even make war if necessary to stay among those who value him. There were many in those days who lacked a place in the world. The Three Houses didn't mean to cast them aside, they were just so busy with their own affairs. When those of mixed heritage began to emerge, with new and strange abilities, the Three Houses simply didn't know what to do with them.
It was easy for Madrigan to gain them to his cause, telling them of the beautiful land he saw in his visions, the place where they could call home and build something unique and new. The Three Houses were more than happy to let them go. A sigh of relief erupted when Madrigan and his followers seemingly disappeared forever.
Sheyla and Euthor should have known it wasn't the end. For Madrigan left with his followers on the day Prince Euthor and Sheyla wed. But they always saw the best in people, to their own peril. Almost two decades passed as the forces of the now warlord Corcoran prepared for war. The Three Houses thought it impossible that they would return as conquerors. But war came nonetheless.”
Durian could scarcely believe it. What an amazing story. His mind was swimming with questions. Never in a hundred years would Durian have guessed that the Great War, which changed the face of their entire world, was really just a quarrel of two men over the same woman. It was unbelievable.
“How did Sheyla perish at the end of the war?” Durian questioned. “In my dreams, I saw a man riding up to find a woman lying slain in a field. Why wasn't she with him at the end?”
Pallin sighed.
“Just before the start of the Great War, murmurings of an evil stirring in the west were reported to the Three Houses. Though the reports were largely dismissed, Sheyla had seen how bitter Madrigan had become after her engagement to the prince. She left for the outlying t
ownships, seeking an audience with Madrigan, hoping she could forestall his plans. She thought she could convince Madrigan to stop his conquest before it began. But she never got the chance. She was too late.
War erupted and the land was thrown into chaos. One by one, the towns and villages fell. The forces of Corcoran had spent nearly two decades preparing for war in secret. The rest were ill-equipped to face them. Even I don't know exactly what happened next. Sheyla was cut off from King Euthor and the rest of the House, Cavanah. She tried to make her escape, but the forces of Corcoran had spread too quickly. She was overtaken and shot down by arrows on the plains of Cavanah as she galloped away. It was a senseless tragedy.”
Durian's eyes misted with tears as Pallin finished speaking, recalling the bitter grief of the rider in his dreams as he found his beloved lying slain in a field. It nearly overwhelmed Durian that he, a simple Suriyan, had been chosen to share in the gravity and intimacy of such events.
“It truly is a tragic story,” Pallin continued with a sigh. “Madrigan set his mind to eradicating the way of life of the Three Houses. He saw them as a stain on the world. It's nearly unfathomable that after twelve centuries, these two men are still quarreling over the fate of all.”
“Did Prince Euthor and Madrigan know each other?” Durian asked.
“They knew of each other, at least. Beyond that, I have no knowledge.”
“Do you think Corcoran knew that his forces had killed Sheyla?”
“I doubt he did. But it wouldn't have mattered. When Madrigan returned, he was no longer the man he'd once been...he had become Corcoran the Conqueror.”
Suddenly, so much was making sense – why King Euthor had inscribed his farewell poem onto the Hammer of Haladrin and left it with his progeny on the Banished Lands. That menacing weapon would ever cause havoc to the plans and purposes of Corcoran, while at the same time reminding Corcoran what he'd done to the woman he'd claimed to love. The thought raised another question.
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 57
