The Heartstone

by Lisa Finnegan

  "Ok, I’ll do it," she said, "I don't seem to have much choice."

  "Thank you Stonebearer." Kievran said.

  Rua said nothing but bowed.

  "Ariana,” she said.

  "Pardon, Stonebearer?" Jarod said.

  "Call me Ariana. I insist."

  "Very well, stone...Ariana. Now to business, this must be secret. Rhysin has many spies." Kievran said.

  "Who is this Rhysin?" Ariana asked. Since she was committed she might as well find out as much as she could. Kievran and Jarod both looked at Rua. She smiled wryly, stepped to the center of the room and began.

  "No one knows whence Rhysin came. Between twenty and thirty years ago he appeared in the western lands. He was young, charming and brilliant. He was incredibly learned about the natural world and manipulating the gifts of the land. He is a genius metalsmith.

  He used his magic to create creatures of metal and stone. We call them soul eaters. They do not live as creatures of bone and muscle do. At first the people were enchanted with the gifts that he brought them. Then they grew dependent on them to do their work. No one knew about his evil powers until it was too late.

  There was a darker side to the creatures. In order to keep working they needed energy, soul energy. Rhysin found a way to siphon off the soul essence from a person and feed it to his abominations. It leaves a man an empty shell used as Rhysin’s slave. He uses this evil to intimidate and terrify his subjects. In every occupied town and village once a year there is a mandatory tithe.

  “My god that’s awful why don’t they fight back?” Ariana said.

  “He was subtle. He kept his work a secret. After he has taken over a town or province it is too late. His towns produce bumper crops and the people appear healthy and plump with good living. But they pay a terrible price.

  “He had most of the provincial lords imprisoned or killed replacing them with his lackeys. Then he grew bolder and poisoned the high king Tynan and usurped the throne. Those loyal to Tynan have battled him ever since. But Rhysin’s troops are everywhere.

  “He has taken the north and eastern provinces but Dun Caer still holds out against him. There are pockets of resistance in the western provinces as well as people who believe in freedom even under his yoke. But they are in terrible danger. If he knew the Heartstone was here he would stop at nothing to gain it for himself. The stone’s powers would feed his evil creatures forever and his power would as a god’s. Once it returns to Galancarrig he won't be able to take it."

  “Why not?” Ariana asked.

  “Galancarrig is where the stone was born. It is there that it holds the balance and none but a guardian of the blood my approach it when it is restored. He is not of the blood.”

  “So even if he found me now…” Ariana said relieved.

  “No, “interrupted Rua, “Until it is restored he could use you and the Stone for his own ends.”

  “How?”

  “By causing you such pain that you would do anything to stop it.” Ariana winced at the image, "So now what?" she asked.

  Kievran thought for a moment. "Jarod will undertake your arms training. Then, Cerynus will instruct you in basic matters of magic. Speed is our only weapon. I will leave our ever-imaginative bard to conjure a reason for the Stonebearer’s presence. Jarod will immediately find you better rooms." Jarod nodded agreement still looking dazzled by his good fortune. Kievran looked at him and sighed.

  "Time is essential. We'll send an armed contingent; she'll get to Galancarrig in six months while we decoy Rhysin’s forces giving her a chance." Kievran said.

  Armed forces sounded good to Ariana. She opened her mouth, “That sounds…”

  "No father, no army. The two of us can move much more quickly and quietly." Jarod said decisively.

  “Must you defy me at every turn boy? I tell you a small troop will be strong and mobile enough…”

  “You are wrong father.” Jarod retorted.

  Rua coughed and looked at then both eloquently.

  "We’ll discuss it later. For now let us go to bed for what remains of the night." Kievran waved them out the door. They left.

  "He doesn't seem happy about all this." She said.

  "He finds it hard to believe this is really happening, lady" Rua said.

  "Join the club,” she murmured. Rua looked at her questioningly but smiled at her tone.

  Jarod turned to her he still looked dazed. "Come, I will take you to your new quarters and get you some proper clothing. Good night lady Rua." He nodded at the bard. Rua smiled at Ariana and said softly “Be strong.” She left with a graceful bow.

  Following Jarod, her mind felt numb. There had been too many changes in twenty-four hours. They walked through the great hall and down a short corridor. At the far end, a door was open and servants were making the bed and lighting the fires to chase out the chill. The dawn was just creeping up. "I’ll leave you to eat and rest for a while. Bide here for me." She nodded. He left.

  She walked over to the fire and sat down letting the warmth thaw her chilled hands. The wood floor was covered in woven rushes. Ornamental carvings of swans trimmed the lintels of the diamond paned window and the mantle of the fireplace. The bed was on a raised platform embellished with stylized swans, a huge white fur draped over the bed.

  She felt the bed, firm, almost hard. A hysterical giggle escaped her. She was in a strange land with some maniac after this stupid stone and she was worried about the bed. She flopped down covering her face with her forearm. Trapped, it hit her like sledgehammer, hopeless sobs bubbled up like acid. When she had no tears left she rolled over, eyes red-rimmed, stomach hurting. She'd agreed. But she'd do her own experiments. If she could remove the Heartstone she would. She'd give it to Jarod and go home on her own. This was his world anyway. She squashed the niggling guilt ruthlessly. Feeling a little more in control she fell into the first real sleep she'd had in two days.

  Chapter Three

  Ariana snapped awake. Where was she? Her sleep-befuddled brain took in soft furs, scratchy wool blankets, whitewashed walls and sunlight shafting through the window. She heard bird song not traffic. Her heart sank. It wasn't a dream. She stretched and rose to look out the window. At least she was rested with some idea of what was going on. Opening the shutters, she looked out at the spring morning. Beyond the cooking fires smoke the timber wall rose, then rolling hills covered in lush grass merging into the deeper green of the forest. She looked down at her clothes. They were in awful shape. Someone knocked at the door. It was a young girl; russet hair braided back, hazel eyes wide with curiosity.

  "Fair morn, lady."

  "Good morning" Ariana said.

  The girl had a pile of clothes in her arms, a long linen shift, and a blue woolen dress to wear over it and a braided leather belt.

  "You must have had a terrible journey. The lady Rua said brigands stole your clothes, how awful." She put the pile on the chest resting at the foot of the bed. She stared avidly at Ariana.

  "I am to be your tiring woman since your bondmaids fled."

  "But I don't..." Ariana said.

  "Oh I’m sorry, I be called Sona."

  "No, I mean..."

  "Now shall you dress?" Sona came forward to help Ariana.

  "No, please. I can dress myself."

  "But the lady Rua said..."

  "I don't care what Rua said."

  "Have I displeased you lady? I have never been a tiring woman before; mayhap I did something to offend." Her eyes filled with bewildered tears.

  Ariana sighed; she hadn't meant to hurt Sona’s feelings. "No I’m pleased. I just don't need any help right now. I'll call you when I need you."

  "I’ll be outside, lady," with a final doubtful look the girl left. Ariana sighed and turned to the pile of clothes. They were big for her but she used the belt to pull things together. She put on her sneakers, wincing. Her feet were swollen; blisters throbbed. As she finished dressing, someone knocked at the door.

  "I don't need any help Son
a," she said.

  "Fair morn, Ariana" Jarod walked in. "You need no help?" He looked at her ensemble, and stifled a grin. She looked down. She was a mess. There were no buttons or zippers in the clothes, everything tied or laced. She had done what she could but it looked bunched up in some places and tight in others.

  “Sona, please come in and help the lady Ariana." Jarod called. Sona came in. Her eyes widened at Ariana’s attempt at dressing. She covered her mouth to stop the giggle bursting out.

  "I’ll leave you now." Jarod bowed.

  Quickly and efficiently, Sona helped Ariana dress. "How cunning,” Sona marveled at Ariana’s underwear. She helped Ariana into the white cotton shift that went under everything. Then came the heavy overskirt, yards of wool bunched around a drawstring tie, over that went the bodice of intricate embroidery laced up in the front, making breathing difficult. She felt unreal as if she were an actress in a play or going to a costume ball for Halloween.

  Sona picked up a brush and looked at Ariana’s hair. “Milady, why is your hair shorn so?”

  Ariana thought for a moment, “The um, brigands cut it when they attacked me.”

  “That is awful, you look like a boy.”

  “Actually it’s very comfortable.” Ariana said.

  Sona looked doubtful. But she brushed Ariana’s hair and tucked it behind her ears. Ariana was ready. She opened the door to find Jarod waiting for her. He looked well rested and ready to conquer the world. He didn't look like his feet hurt. He smiled his appreciation of her new look.

  “You shall need proper clothes for riding and fighting, plus some proper boots." He looked disparagingly at her sneakers.

  "Am I allowed to eat, or won't that fit the schedule?"

  "My pardon, of course you may eat."

  There was that small smile again. They went to the main hall, bread, fruits, and porridge sat next to pitchers of water and a hot drink. Ariana ate the fruit and slathered the bread with butter. She was starving; it had been hours since her last meal. If she kept eating like this she was going to be as big as a house. She sipped the drink. It reminded her of herbal tea. She thought she could get used to it. For a few minutes there was silence as they ate. Then Jarod rose, brushing off crumbs.

  "Shall we begin?"

  "Lead on, my lord." Ariana said rising.

  "Jarod” he corrected, amused. He led her through the main hall out a side entrance, which she had missed last night.

  "This is the yard," he said, pointing out the large open square. It was filled with people and noise. Young men and women practiced sword drills in one area. Servants carried baskets of produce and game, cheese and buckets of milk into the great kitchen. Ariana glanced inside. On a spit turning over a fire a huge pig roasted surrounded by birds and something that looked like a sheep. A well surrounded by women filling pitchers and gossiping occupied the other corner of the yard.

  Jarod led her to the tannery. It was set far back in the woods because of the stench. Quickly, Ariana found a pair of soft brown boots that fit. They fled to the armory.

  "How do they stand it?" She asked. Jarod shrugged. It was cool and dark in the armory, weapons piled on the floor, draped on pegs and bursting from rough-hewn shelves. Along one wall leaned pikes and spears; oiled swords sheathed in ornate scabbards rested on the shelves. The arms master walked over.

  "She needs a short sword, dagger and a bow." Jarod said.

  The arms master brought items for inspection. Jarod decided on a leather jerkin and leggings for her. He added a plain scabbard, a short sword, and a bow with a quiver full of arrows to her pile. How was she ever going to carry all that stuff?

  "These are yours. As soon as your gear is ready, we begin. We have no time to lose. I expect you every day at the riding arena, one hour after cockcrow, after riding, sword practice."

  For the rest of the day Jarod showed her around Dun Caer. Then it was time for the main meal. By now, Ariana was hungry again and looking forward to the feast. Jarod sat down gesturing for Ariana to join him. People filed into the great hall taking their places at the table. A few glanced at the stranger but at Jarod’s stern look, they turned away. Women bustled around setting out the food and tankards of ale. The great pig Ariana had seen roasting earlier dominated the table. Wooden bowls of grains, vegetables, and baskets of fresh baked bread covered the table.

  Laughter and easy banter filled the air; a group of young men strode into the hall. Dressed like Jarod in green and brown they filled the table with noise. With a great clatter of boots and daggers, they took their places opposite Jarod and Ariana. One man looked curious but as he opened his mouth Jarod rose. Everyone else did the same as Lord Kievran entered and sat down at head of the table.

  Ariana didn't know what to do, before her sat a shallow bowl, and a small knife. A servant had filled the bowl with food. The savory smell of the roast made her mouth water. She watched Jarod. He sliced then speared pieces of roast pushing the vegetables onto the flat of the blade, sopping up the juices with a hunk of bread. Ariana tried to follow his example, awkwardly eating the thick slice of roast along with the crusty bread and vegetables. It tasted delicious but she ended up using her hands more than the knife.

  The feast lasted well into the evening and once the meal was finished the entertainment began. There was silence as Rua entered the hall with a harp. She settled herself in front of the fire and began to play. The beauty of the music mesmerized Ariana. Then she began to sing. Her voice was clear and true and soared through the silence of the hall. Ariana couldn't understand the words but the melody entwined itself around her heart. Tears prickled and she remembered her mother’s face in her vision. Even though her mother had been frightened there had also been a strength and resolve in her face. She wouldn’t have let anything stop her. The stone rested against her like a living creature, warm and very much alive. Her tension and fear eased as she listened. All too soon it was over and the woman rose and with a nod left the hall to wild yelling and applause. People were dispersing and Jarod led her back to her chamber.

  "Good even, Ariana."

  "Good night."

  She went inside and Sona helped her undress despite her protests. The music must have soothed her more than she knew because she fell asleep as soon as she lay down.

  During the night she had the dream again. Her mother fleeing the tower but this time she turned to her. She looked beseechingly at Ariana, holding the stone out toward her. Ariana felt tears prick her eyes at the sadness in her mother’s face.

  Then Ariana saw a dark slender man behind her mother. His black eyes stared avidly at her. His face was pale and handsome marred only by the arrogant twist to his mouth. He seemed to catch sight of her, his eyes narrowed. His gaze was so greedy and malignant that she shrank back instinctively. For a moment his gaze held hers then his face transformed into a raven’s beady eyes and deadly beak. Ariana sat up with a gasp and looked around the darkened chamber. It was still and empty. She settled back down into the bed with a sigh.

  The next morning Sona brought the new fighting clothes and her gear. These were much more to Ariana’s liking; she'd never liked skirts or dresses. Once she was dressed in the soft leather pants, tunic and boots, she went to meet Jarod.

  They began with riding. As a teenager, Ariana had been horse mad and taken riding lessons. She had even been in a local horse show where she took third place. She'd always wanted her own horse but her stepmother had vetoed the idea. It had been a long time since she’d ridden. She hadn't had much opportunity in New York. She mounted quickly and even though the saddle was different from what she was used to she seemed to pass muster. Jarod only nodded his face impassive.

  "Now you learn how to handle a sword."

  They went to an open field screened by trees for privacy. He showed her the basic stance; one foot behind and at right angles to the other, He gave her a wooden sword and showed her how to hold it. Then he showed her the basic positions for cut, thrust, block, and parry. Ariana felt as if h
er arms were going to fall off. Finally, he let her stop. She was drenched in sweat; her hair hung in clumps from her head. Jarod looked as fresh as he had that morning. It wasn’t fair.

  "Tomorrow morn, we begin at the archery field." He pointed out a close-cropped field nearby. She nodded.

  "Until tomorrow." He said.

  "Where are you going?" She asked.

  "I’m on patrol." He said.

  Limping her way back toward the keep, she spied a servant hurrying by and asked about bathing. The servant directed her to another building. She walked up to the bathhouse and peered inside, empty. A hot spring bubbled up into a tiled mosaic pool. The water was pea soup green from mineral deposits. There was a slight tang of sulfur in the air. Ariana wrinkled her nose, and then dipped her hand in the water. It was heavenly. She stripped out of her smelly clothes and stepped own the shallow steps into the pool, luxuriating in the hot water. Closing her eyes the bath soothed her tired muscles. She washed her hair twice with some herbal soap. It wasn’t as good as shampoo but it would do. Then she scrubbed at the grime of the last few days. Feeling restored she walked back toward the Dun.

  The clank of the smithy caught her attention. It gave her an idea. Jarod was gone. She might never have this opportunity again. She still wanted to get rid of the stone; she didn't believe this mumbo jumbo. It was just a chain. A blacksmith would be able to break the flimsy silver. No problem. Hope rose as she thought of her freedom. She'd take off the chain binding her here. Give it to Jarod. He could go chase glory, she'd say goodbye and find a way home. The niggling thought that without the Heartstone, she'd have no magic and no way home, she ignored. She smiled at the thought of his face when she gave him the Heartstone. She looked down at it. It was so beautiful. Her steps slowed. No, she wouldn't be dragged into this. She didn't belong here. This wasn't her fight. Her fingers clenched around the cool metal.