Dark Embers

by R. L. Giddings

  “And it’s all dying,” Macrory reminded us.

  “What about the city?” Millie said. “You said it was ten miles away but I don’t see any signs of it.”

  “And you won’t do until we’re nearly on top of it, “Macrory said. “Now, come on. Let’s look sharp.”

  We moved off together, following the easiest route through the tangled undergrowth. The trees on the way down were small and stunted but as soon as we entered the forest the trees began to show their true age with twisted trunks vying for what little light made it down to the forest floor. The atmosphere was darker and heavier under the canopy, with a sense of stillness that was unsettling.

  If Macrory felt it, he gave no indication as he beat his way through the underbrush with his staff, making a path for us to follow. Millie trailed after him, head down, her pony-tail flicking from side to side as she walked.

  We were an hour into our journey when we found ourselves on a rocky out-crop overlooking a wide valley. The trees down there were much more widely spaced out, suggesting that the area had been harvested for timber at some point.

  It was as we were making our way down to the floor of the valley that we heard the horn again. We stopped and scanned the area around us. We were beginning to wonder whether we were hearing things.

  We were halfway across the valley floor when the horn sounded again. And this time, there was no mistaking it.

  “Over here,” Macrory pointed to a tree surrounded by brambles. “Quick.”

  Our initial hesitancy disappeared when we saw that the ground to the left of the brambles had collapsed into a kind of crater and we could shelter there. It was the ideal place to hide. If we crouched, we could see over the top of the brambles or we could simply lie down and disappear.

  Edwin spotted them first, over to the west. I scanned quickly across the broken ground and saw the rows of spears, stiff and regular, rising up over the brow. We gawped at one another and then turned to watch as the lines of men started appearing through the trees. Rank upon rank of them, marching perpendicular to where we were sheltering, helmets glinting in the sunlight.

  They moved quietly for such a big group but as they drew closer, it was possible to hear the individual rattles and clanks they made as they walked. Men in polished armour, moving in clearly defined units. This was much more than a regular hunting party.

  “How many do you think?” Millie whispered.

  “Hundreds,” I said.

  “Thousands more like,” Edwin observed.

  And he was right. The longer we watched, the more of them appeared.

  I felt a chill in my blood even though the nearest man to us would bypass us by a good few hundred metres. It was an unbelievable sight. I’d never seen anything like it though I doubted that anyone outside of Arcadia had either. It was easier to pick out individuals moving on the periphery of the ranks now, men in studded leather taking care to keep their pikes vertical. Beyond them, what looked like the infantrymen in their heavy armour many carrying their swords aloft? Interspersed with the infantry were lines of archers armed with bows of blackened horn.

  The pristine organisation with which they moved was spoiled only by the fact that they had to break formation every dozen paces on account of the varied terrain which made up the valley floor.

  “Look at these!” Millie squealed. “There’s more of them.”

  Another horn sounded in the crisp air and I looked across to see the first ranks of the cavalry, looking marvellously serene on their pure white mounts. I held my breath as row upon gleaming row broke through the trees, lances raised.

  Next thing, Macrory’s hand was on my shoulder, gently pulling me down.

  “What’s wrong?” we were all huddled together, shielded by the nettles.

  “I wasn’t expecting cavalry.”

  I pulled a face. “But you were expecting something?”

  “The Winter Queen was never going to sit idly by while one of her princes languished in jail. She has to come up with some response, plus it gives her an excuse to utilise her troops.”

  Edwin said, “She’s mobilising her forces. We’ve come too late.”

  “Not necessarily,” Macrory said. “We just need to figure out what all this means. It might just be an exercise in sabre rattling. I doubt that any of her troops have crossed over yet or we’d have heard about it. Anyway, we’d best make a move.”

  Edwin said, “Wouldn’t we be safer just sitting tight?”

  There was a nearly invisible tightening of Macrory’s jaw.

  “Look, if they’ve got cavalry then they’re going to have outriders covering their flanks. And that’s where we’re going to find ourselves in a minute or two. We need to move, and quickly.”

  Edwin squeezed between myself and Millie, regarding Macrory with a new found respect.

  Millie said, “What is that awful noise? Can anyone else hear it?”

  We all looked at one another. It wasn’t so much a noise, more of an undertone, and a worrying one at that. Macrory looked like he’d just received bad news.

  He climbed out of the crater and then, on hands and knees, scurried over to a stand of trees. Once he was secure, he motioned for the rest of us to join him. It took only a couple of minutes for the rest of us to make the journey.

  We now had a slightly elevated vantage point making it possible to get a better look at the troops’ formations.

  Just ahead of the cavalry were three teams of five men. They didn’t appear to be armed but were pushing some kind of rolling contraption ahead of them. Each one consisted of a broad spindle which gave off its own lambent glow as though lit from within. These cast strange, spectral shadows on the faces of the men servicing them. The machines appeared to float just above the ground but it was the sound that they made which was most unsettling. A high-pitched keening noise which sounded as though a flock of birds had become trapped in the device’s inner workings and were slowly being torn apart.

  “We need to get going,” Macrory said, his eyes wide. “We’re not safe here.”

  “But you said…”

  He shut me up with an abortive gesture. It was clear from his expression that he was deeply troubled by what he saw.

  “What are they? Some kind of weapon?”

  He nodded, gravely. “They’re an abomination. One of the Kingdom’s darkest secrets. I hoped never to see them myself.”

  “Really?” I was appalled yet intrigued.

  “Sidhe magic is different to earth magic. Powerful, yes, but not so easily controlled. The Harvesters – that’s what they’re called – were designed as a way of weaponising two opposing fields of magic. Adnan magic and that of the Sorei. The two mages involved managed to combine two very powerful alternating magical currents. It cannot be fully controlled and so the magic leaks out. The damage it wreaks on the environment is immeasurable, the mages you see operating them will be dead within weeks, months at best. The Harvesters were only used once before, to end the Millennial Wars. The victory did not justify the enormous loss of life. There were rumours that the Winter Queen was trying to find ways of utilising them again.”

  “Heay, something’s happening,” Edwin was pointing through the trees we were hiding behind. “Look at that.”

  A deer had wandered out into the clearing, no doubt disturbed by the movement of the troops. It was a young animal, clearly confused by what was going on and, without the guidance of an adult, seemed unsure of how to react. The Harvester team nearest us spotted it first and cut across to intercept it.

  The Harvester appeared to go into over-drive, the central spindle spinning so fast that it quickly became a blur. The light emanating from it had turned an unnatural orange but it was the terrible rattling sounds filling the glade which I found most disturbing.

  The animal darted this way and that but somehow its attention kept being drawn back towards the terrible orange light.

  As the Harvester approached, the dear just stood there, shuddering. At first, I tho
ught that it was petrified by fear but then I realised it was, in part, the action of the machine itself as long, bloody welts started to appear in the animal’s coat. Light bled from the wounds and the dear struggled to stay on its feet. A large chunk of flesh on its rear flank simply fell away. The animal, staggered before the rapacious machine and there came the clear sound of snapping twigs before it finally fell in upon itself only to be consumed by the light.

  Millie had watched this open mouthed. Then she turned on Macrory as if all of this were his fault.

  “And they’re going to use this against humans?”

  Macrory’s shoulders slumped. He looked devastated. “It’s indefensible, I know.”

  “But that’s… that’s horrible. We can’t let this happen.”

  She was right, of course, but nobody said anything. We were all too badly shaken by what we’d just seen. We’d known that SIdhe magic was different, of course. But these Harvesters were like nothing we’d ever seen before.

  A horn sounded through the woods and we took that as our cue to fall back into the trees. It was several hundred metres before I felt safe enough to speak.

  “We have to go back. Warn the council, tell them what’s coming.”

  “I wouldn’t be so hasty,” Macrory said. “We still have the advantage of speed on our side. They’ll have to make camp in another few hours and from there it’s a two day march to the Caverns of Glawn.”

  “Glawn?” Edwin interjected. “Sounds like something out of Lord of the Rings.”

  “What’s there?” I asked.

  “There are numerous void-spaces spread about The Kingdom. Places where the membrane between worlds is weaker than in others. I’d imagine that, as the magic fades, they’re frailer than they’ve ever been before. That’s where the generals would hope to cross their troops into your world.” We still have time to get to the queen and put a stop to this madness.”

  “What about that stretch of river where we came in?” Edwin asked.

  “Too small for an army that size. It’d take weeks to get them all through. The caverns are a natural phenomenon. You could get a lot of men through there but it would take several days. We still have time to get through to the queen and put a stop to this madness.”

  “Okay, but where would these troops come out?” I said. “Not in London itself, I’m guessing. Somewhere out in the country perhaps?”

  Macrory blinked, surprised by the question.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m not prepared to tell you where they’ll come out. I’ve said too much already.”

  “What you talking about? You said yourself that we need to stop this.”

  “And we can do that without me betraying my countrymen. The Kingdom is still my home. It doesn’t matter that I don’t live here anymore. This is where my loyalties lie.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous!” I was starting to raise my voice and Millie indicated for me to calm down. “I thought that we were working on this together. Now it turns out you’re having second thoughts. Didn’t you see what they’re capable of?”

  “I’ve already said too much, I am not going to compromise the Sidhe further by revealing where they’re going to emerge. If they were to be ambushed, I wouldn’t want that on my conscience, that’s all.”

  Edwin and Millie looked at me in astonishment. Where did that leave us? Could Macrory even be trusted?

  I said, “I thought we’d at least be able to trust one another by now.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. But I refuse to betray my own side over an issue like this.”

  I decided that it was best if I didn’t respond to that but there was no denying it, we had a problem brewing.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  We walked for the rest of the afternoon, eventually passing through the forest. It was a thrill just to be able to look around now and not to feel completely hemmed in by the trees. Eventually, we found ourselves approaching a flat rocky plain where the only vegetation was a scattering of birch tree saplings. Edwin was against us marching out across such a barren landscape in daylight. After our encounter with the troops that morning, Edwin had grown increasingly vigilant and suggested that we wait until dark before tackling such a barren landscape. If we were caught out in the open, he argued, we’d have nowhere to run. But Macrory, growing more and more impatient, refused to listen and pressed ahead anyway, leaving the three of us behind.

  By the time we’d finished arguing about how we should proceed, Macrory was a tiny figure in the distance.

  *

  We heard the sound of running water long before we saw it. There was a thin ravine over to our right accessed by a narrow pathway which ran parallel with a fast running stream.

  We followed the path down for maybe half an hour before stopping on a ledge which would allow us to draw water from the stream. We were anxious to catch up with Macrory but we also knew from past experience that you had to re-fill your water bottles whenever you got the opportunity.

  Then we set off again down the path, our route often blocked by trees sprouting out of the bare rock. As we brushed against them, their thin, papery leaves would just break off, falling to cover the pathway in a thin, pulpy paste.

  The ravine narrowed as we proceeded downwards, the sound of rushing water reverberating off the cliffs which rose up on both sides. Sheets of grey stone, sheer and impossible to climb began to dwarf us as we continued down. Overhead, dark shapes flapped and whirled about, calling to one another. It was odd, but I didn’t remember seeing any birds before, even in the forest. I found their presence to be strangely unsettling now.

  We kept on moving down the slope. It was sweaty and demanding work. There was a lot of loose scree under foot so you had to keep a watchful eye on where you placed your feet. In winter, with ice on the ground, the trail would have been lethal. The air was cold and fresh with all the moisture thrown up by the stream but this had combined with the fallen leaves to create a thin mush which was devilishly slippery under-foot. It would only take a moment’s inattention for you to misjudge your step and you’d have a long way to fall before hitting the bottom.

  So it was with a real sense of relief that, two hours later, we finally reached the end of the path. We stood to one side and admired the waterfall which cascaded into the pool below. The path opened out here into enormous stepping stones which had been carved into the rock.

  “Oh, that’s beautiful,” Millie said taking care to stay away from the edge.

  She was looking back up the way we’d come and I held onto her waist as I stepped around her. My legs were aching from the descent but weren’t as sore as my neck where I’d been constantly checking the path. It was nice to have a break and so we stood for a moment taking it all in. Beyond the pool, the river itself curled away to our right but directly ahead of us were open fields, partitioned off by precise hedgerows. Gone was the tangle of self-seeded trees fighting for light. The land had obviously been cultivated, which suggested we were nearing civilisation.

  That notion was confirmed when you looked off in the distance. The roofs of a vast city glistened in the fading sunlight.

  But still there was no sign of Macrory.

  Coming down the path, it had been all too easy to forget about everyone else and just to focus on where you were putting your feet. But now, his disappearance was starting to make me feel more and more anxious. If he’d made it down to this point, surely he would have waited for us. It didn’t make sense.

  That’s partly why I started off down the big stone steps. I wanted to find him but, at the same time, I was eager to get a better look at the city.

  Edwin caught up with me then and matched me step for step.

  “Do you hear that?”

  I shook my head. It was difficult to hear anything over the roar of the waterfall.

  “Over here. Come on.”

  He started heading off to our left. I checked to make sure that Millie was following and then set
off after him. I had no idea what he’d heard but I’d noted the tension in his voice and my first thought had been Macrory. The queen’s guard might have found him. It might already be too late.

  We ran across the wet rocks, slipping and sliding in our haste. As we got to the fields, our route was blocked by a solid hedge but Edwin found a way through and I followed, the blood pulsing in my head.

  I heard a scream, quickly cut off and then a high pitched squeal that sounded like a pig being butchered. I urged my aching legs not to fail me as Edwin increased the pace and I struggled to keep up. I kept check behind me, to make sure that Millie was still there – we didn’t want to lose her as well – but every time I did so, she seemed to be falling further and further behind. A fallen tree trunk lay in our way and it took all my energy to scramble over it. A stitch was developing in my side, I couldn’t keep this pace up for much long.

  We passed fields of sickly looking crops as we ran. My breathing was becoming more and more ragged now and the pain in my side was impossible to ignore. I told myself that I’d keep going until the next hedgerow and then I’d have to stop.

  All that changed though when the screaming started up again but this time in earnest.

  Was that really Macrory? It sounded too high-pitched. But then, if he really were in trouble…

  I followed Edwin’s lead as he negotiated the uneven path, watching which way he swayed and kinked.

  He disappeared through a hedge and I followed blindly, bursting out into a clearing, my breath coming in tight gasps.

  We had somehow found our way back to the river. The area we found ourselves in felt dark and closeted, shielded from the sun by tall, skeletal trees which spoke of indescribable age. It was absolutely still under those trees, the river inky black and foreboding. There was no wind, no birds, no noise.

  Edwin stood in front of me unwrapping a small package.

  Macrory was on the far bank, halfway up a tree.

  I was about to ask him what he was playing at when the boar charged. It struck the base of his tree a thunderous blow, releasing a shower of leaves. Macrory was struggling to hold on. He hadn’t been able to climb as high as the branches and was holding on as best he could. He wasn’t going to be able stay up there for much longer.