The Heartstone

by Lisa Finnegan

  She thrust the stone down the back of her shirt leaving only the silver links. She didn't want anyone to see the gem. The darkness inside the smithy made her blink. She could barely make out the man pumping the bellows to heat the iron he was shaping.

  "Hello?"

  "Fair even lady, I am Orin what can I do for ye?"

  "I um, I need you to cut through this chain."

  "Why? Tis’ very fair.”

  Ariana thought for a moment. Using her best Fifth Avenue sneer, she said. "I’m tired of it."

  "Very well, lady." He shrugged and gestured her closer.

  She walked to the anvil and looked at him. He was a bald giant with a sweeping moustache. Muscles bulged from under his leather apron. When one of his soot blackened, fingers reached for her neck she flinched. He held the chain delicately on the tip of one of his fingers. With the other hand he took a pair of nippers and placing two links between the cutting edges he closed the jaws. A second later he opened them. Ariana smiled in relief. She looked down expecting to see two ends dangling. The length was whole and unmarked. It wasn't going to be that easy, damn.

  "What..." The smith’s brow creased in puzzlement. "It must have slipped." Even more carefully he put the silver between the blades and pressed. This time she saw the muscles cording in his arms as he strained. He opened the blades but it was still whole.

  "Lady, this be magic. It is a geas chain; nothing I have here would break it. An more dishonor on you to try to escape it." He put the nipper away with a clang.

  "I’m sorry." Ariana thought quickly, she had to cover for this lapse. "It was put on me while I slept. I didn't know what it was or what it meant."

  "Well they are uncommon and mayhap the bards where you come from never taught you. I pardon your ignorance. If you would find out go to the lady Rua."

  "Thank you."

  The smith turned away grumbling about fools and magic. Ariana sighed. It looked like she was stuck with the stone. Maybe Rua would have some answers. She went back to her chamber and changed into her blue dress, by herself. She looked at her reflection. She'd gotten the hang of it she thought with a proud smile. She was ready.

  Ariana asked directions to Rua’s chamber and soon found herself at her door. She knocked. A melodious voce bade her enter. The chamber was large and airy. Rua sat in a large window seat holding a lute, strumming softly as she looked out the window. Without turning her head she said, "Lady I am honored. Your visit to the smith was unsuccessful?"

  How did she know that? The bard turned back from the window and looked at her. Ariana’s face must have shown her confusion. Rua laughed and gracefully gestured for Ariana to sit next to her. Picking up the lute she strummed an accompaniment to their conversation.

  "How did you know?" Ariana asked.

  "A leaf falls in the woodland and I know it. But enough of that, you must have questions. Jarod is a dear boy but his grasp of history isn't strong. Sit down child."

  Ariana looked at Rua. The clever pale face looked back at her. Patient but giving nothing away, Rua would be a good ally or the worst kind of enemy. She decided to trust the bard.

  "Alright," Ariana sat. Rua smiled, her face became beautiful.

  "You are right to be cautious. There are people even here at Dun Caer who consort with that whoreson Rhysin."

  "The smith mentioned a geas chain. What is that?"

  "A geas chain is the material manifestation of a promise. It is a spell cast by a mage. It cannot be taken off or broken until the task or promise is fulfilled. The chain you wear is similar."

  Ariana sighed; there was no way to get rid of the Heartstone. She was bound until this strange journey ended. She'd need information. "What is the deal with this guy Rhysin?"

  "As I said yesterday Rhysin is very powerful. He lives in the northland in a castle built on the blood and bones of his subjects. He has nine adepts who help him with his magic. We are one of the lone pockets of rebellion against his empire. Ten years ago he swept down onto the free provinces, imprisoned the strongest lords, and killed the king. Dun Caer is one of the last free provinces. There are still the horse lords in their western mountains and a resistance movement but it is weak. Soon he will sweep over Dun Caer and there will be nothing left."

  "If it's so inevitable, why fight him?"

  "He is the death of all hope." Rua's eyes blazed. “I come from Dun Tyrnas, where bards are trained and live before assignment to the lords of the provinces. We made ballads and spread them through the countryside. Our taunts infuriated him. He could never catch us at it,” her eyes sparkled and a militant air filled the room. Then she turned grave and her mouth twisted.

  “Rhysin’s forces came in and destroyed Tyrnas, the jewel of song. They burned the bard's school, smashed the instruments and to keep it secret they killed everyone."

  "You don't have to go on, “Ariana said.

  Rua ignored Ariana; her eyes black pits looking back.

  "I had gone on my first master's journey with my new lute. I arrived home a week after the massacre. Smoke fouled the air. I rushed home.” Rua stood abruptly and looked at Ariana.

  "Do you know what they did to him? To my Tuan, who could charm the birds out of the trees with his voice? They ripped out his tongue, blinded him and left him for dead. I found him. He died in my arms. I think I lost my mind then. I fled, hid in the forest with only the clothes on my back and after a while I found myself here." She gripped the lute until the wood protested. Rua gentled her grip stroking the wood in apology taking a deep breath.

  "My God,” Ariana said.

  "If he discovers what you have and captures it. There'll be no stopping him. But if you can return it there's a chance he can be defeated. Otherwise everything is lost."

  "Rua I’m sorry I didn't mean to make you remember."

  "My dear I never forget. You need to know what type of a foe you have here. Come to me on the morrow after your lessons with Jarod and we will talk more."

  Ariana got up. Quickly before she could think about it she hugged the older woman. Rua stiffened then hugged her back with surprising strength.

  "You have a good heart child." Rua said.

  Over the next few days, she learned the proper care of her mount and weapons. She had riding lessons, archery and sword practice in the morning. In the afternoons Rua taught her history and manners. By the end of the third day, movement didn't make her wince.

  She wasn't so pleased the next morning. A loud pounding on the chamber door woke her. Ariana sat bolt upright in bed as Jarod threw the door open. He was livid.

  "Do you ken the hour?"

  "N-no." He looked like he was going to kill her.

  "It is long past sunrise. It is almost midday. I waited an hour.” He ripped the coverlet off and threw it into the corner. She shrank back into the bed. Her wheeled and left the room slamming the door behind him.

  She leapt out of bed, threw on her clothes and ran to the practice ring. Jarod had a peculiar look in his eyes. He looked pleased about something. She gulped. For the next fifteen minutes, he was pitiless. When he let her stop she was drooping and drenched with sweat. He smiled.

  "I have a surprise. You are going to spar."

  "Spar... Spar who?"

  "Me."

  "Oh no."

  He just looked at her, implacable. Then went and picked up his wooden practice sword. Resigned, Ariana took the stance and waited. The tension in her arm quivered down into her belly. Nausea filled her. He was already mad at her. They circled each other. Nothing happened for a moment. Then Jarod’s stick swung low snapping into her bottom. Even through the heavy leather, it stung. Ariana yelped and dodged away. The stick came again stinging the side of her thigh. She tried to block. But the stick swerved and poked her in the ribs. She was always just behind his moves.

  "Ariana stop watching the stick. Look me in the eyes. Use your sword to block me."

  She looked up at his face and found it easier. By not concentrating on his weapon, she could
see what he was doing. She almost parried the blow that rapped against her shoulders. He swiped her feet out from under her and she landed on her back with his stick at her throat. She looked up at him, sweaty, dusty and aching. He hadn't even broken a sweat. He looked down at her; a slow smile creased his face as he reached down to help her up.

  "You’ll not be late again?" He asked.

  She nodded. “Let’s try again." She sighed and lifted the practice stick again.

  Two days later Ariana stood waiting in the dappled shade. Jarod had been pleased by her progress that morning and he’d said they would do something different. When she had waited a half-hour, she started out. Bent over searching the forest for clues, rich spring earth teased her nostrils, the buzzing gnats tried to distract her, but she kept looking. There a boot heel's deep imprint, a little further on a broken branch drew her along, then a metallic gleam.

  Slowly she pushed aside the branches. Jarod lay in the center of the small clearing. He rested on a large rock, one arm bent under his head, eyes closed. Ariana took her opportunity and studied him. His lanky but powerful body lay still on the sun-warmed rock, a sleepy panther. He turned his head and his green eyes gleamed as he caught her looking. She looked at the grass.

  "I heard you a mile away." He grinned and threw her an apple. "Come sit with me."

  She joined him on the rock. He had a bundle filled with fruit and bread and even wine warm from the sun. After they ate Ariana lay back on the sun warmed rock where he had been and sighed. The sun was so warm; all she wanted to do was sleep. She closed her eyes. Something tickled, wrinkling up her nose, she swatted the fly away. It came back. She opened her eyes and looked around. "Time to work," Jarod was tickling her nose with a long piece of grass.

  She smiled, stood up and brushed herself off. Jarod went over to the bundle and picked up something.

  "This is for you." He gave her a small bundle. It was soft doeskin. Eager, she untied the knots. It was a dagger. The steel gleamed in the sunshine and the bronze hilt was ornamented with a stylized wolf head. It fit her hand perfectly. She looked at Jarod. He looked anxious.

  "Do you like it?"

  "I love it. Thank you." Impulsively she jumped up and hugged him. He froze then put his arms hesitantly around her. They fit together perfectly. Ariana stepped back looking down at the dagger. Jarod turned to put the picnic away. After a few moments they turned back.

  "Well, let's start the lesson." He took his dagger out and began teaching her how to use her new weapon. For the next twenty minutes, he taught her different ways to use the slender blade. Whipping a throwing knife from his belt, he whirled; the knife glittered through the air. It quivered in a tree trunk twenty feet away.

  "Now you." He walked over, retrieving the knife.

  He stood behind her, showing her the proper way to hold the knife and correcting her stance with slight pressures on her knees and arms. Her first throw was wobbly and the knife plowed a furrow in the soft turf. Jarod leaned in and holding her hand, he guided her next throw. She was immediately distracted. She bit her lip and concentrated on the lesson. This time it hit the tree and scored a gash in the gray trunk. Then she practiced alone and after a few minutes, the knife was hitting the tree almost every time.

  Soon the afternoon sun was slanting through the branches and it was time to go. Jarod led her through the forest to where he had picketed the horses. He mounted his chestnut, Firebrand; bridle tossing as the stallion snorted energy in every movement. Jarod motioned her up onto her mount Starfall.

  “I had fun.” Ariana said. “Thanks for the dagger.”

  “You’re welcome“Jarod said smiling, “You did well with the dagger.” It would be a long time before she saw that smile again.

  They set out. The dapple mare followed the stallion sedately. A blaring claxon shattered the spring afternoon. The horses bolted. Taken by surprise Ariana almost fell off the galloping mare but quickly righted and grabbed the coarse mane. Ariana leaned down, dodging branches as the startled mare galloped blindly through the woods. Dimly she heard Jarod yelling something but she needed to concentrate on the runaway mare. Suddenly he surged up the trail and passed her. He was bent low over the saddle. His face was white. The horns blared.

  “What is it?” She shouted.

  “The alarm!” He shouted back over his shoulder. They galloped back to the castle. It was mayhem. Wounded men filled the courtyard. Groans and cries filled the air. Women hurried by tending to them. Ariana looked at Jarod. He leapt from his saddle and rushed into the courtyard.

  “What happened?” He asked a man limping by on a makeshift crutch.

  “Oh milord, they came at the outpost with all their strength. Only the few of us were able to come back to warn ye. Your brother lord Gareth, he was lost. Better to be dead.”

  “No you did right. We will make our stand here.” Jarod put his hand gently on the soldier’s shoulder.

  They hurried to the main hall. Rua was standing somberly in the corner. Kievran sat waiting for them. Haggard in the torchlight, his face was wet with tears. In his arms he clutched a tattered bloody dragon pennant. His hands clenched into the ripped flag. He crushed it to his chest and bowed his head. Jarod rushed to his side dropping to his knees. Kievran looked up; silently he held out an arm ring fashioned like a dragon eating its tail.

  “Where is he?” Jarod said. Kievran turned away. Jarod stifled a sob. Ariana turned away from their naked anguish. Kievran closed his eyes and wept great wrenching sobs that seemed about to break his ribs. They held each other for a few moments. After the first ravages abated, Kievran straightened and wiping his face with his hand looked up.

  “We can’t indulge in our grief. Dun Caer is at stake. She is the last stronghold of freedom in Ledrith.” He said.

  “What of the bastard’s forces?” Jarod asked.

  “They are two days away.” Kievran answered. “We are preparing the battle gear and provisions for the siege.”

  “I’ll take the men and…”

  “No Ser Jarod wait,” Rua stepped forward her eyes wet with tears, “You have a different task. The both of you must get to Cerynus. The stone calls Rhysin’s creatures like a magnet. But you’ll be shielded at Shady Vale.”

  “What do you mean calls the creatures?’ Ariana said.

  “But I…” Jarod protested.

  “Is she ready to go?” Kievran interrupted. He couldn’t look at Ariana. She stood stunned at the idea that she had drawn Rhysin toward Dun Caer.

  “No, we need more time.” Jarod said.

  “There is no time. Your supplies are packed. Ready your weapons. You leave for Shady Vale at first light.” Kievran said.

  “I won’t leave you here alone, father.”

  “You must. I know. You thirst for his blood. But, if the Heartstone falls into Rhysin’s hands, we’re all doomed. Duty is more important than vengeance.”

  Jarod opened his mouth to argue.

  “I know how you feel. But your duty lies with the Stonebearer.”

  “But father…”

  “As your lord I command it. As your father I ask it.” His red-rimmed eyes demanded obedience.

  Jarod was still. Jarod looked at his father’s unyielding face. Then he abruptly turned and almost ran from the room, hitting out at the wall as he left.

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” She wished she knew what to say. Kievran only looked at her, his face stoic. He turned away and left. Rua supported him as he stumbled out the door.

  Ariana went to her chamber and started packing. I’m not ready, thought Ariana; a thousand questions scattered in her mind. She’d brought death on all these people. People she’d never met they had died because she was here. Why me? She whispered to the silent walls. How would she ever succeed against someone who wiped out an entire garrison? How could she prevail against someone who used magical machines to destroy? Visions of the bloody wounds inflicted by Rhysin’s creatures filled her mind.

  I won’t think about it. I’l
l just concentrate on what I need to bring, she told herself firmly. She finished packing. Her hand caressed the bronze wolf head as she tucked it into a bundle. Poor Jarod, she knew how it felt.

  The next morning they met at the gate. Jarod bristled with weapons. The packhorse bulged with supplies. Firestorm and Starfall waited. Ariana came out wrapped in her dark green cloak, the dagger Jarod had given to her bounced on her hip. Her short sword and bow were strapped to Starfall’s saddle. She hadn’t eaten. She thought she was going to throw up.

  “Remember you must keep going northwest into the Serenvale Mountains. Somewhere in those mountains lies Galancarrig.” Jarod nodded, his face was stone. His eyes pleaded. Kievran turned to Ariana. “Cerynus will teach you how to use the Heartstone. All our hopes go with you child. Fare well.”

  “Thank You Sir.” She knew he didn’t trust her. But to lose one son and send the other away was a hard thing to do. She tried to look brave. He smiled faintly at her and turned back to Jarod.

  “Son, what happens here is fated. Do not come back. You are brave: temper it with wisdom. You won’t succeed if you die on the way. Blessings on your journey,”

  He hugged Jarod. His fingers dented Jarod’s shoulder. Jarod clung to him a moment then stepped back. Ariana looked for Rua. The bard was nowhere to be seen. They mounted and with a final wave, headed out. Ariana looked back once. Kievran stood alone watching them. Jarod didn’t look back.

  Chapter Four

  The first few hours Ariana jumped at each rustling bush or flitting bird, but tense excitement faded to cramping thighs and wandering mind. The mist had burnt away in the sunshine and a slight breeze rustled through the trees. Firebrand trotted ahead his swishing flaxen tail, a beacon to her flagging concentration.

  A metallic screech shattered the quiet. Starfall shied violently. Ariana grabbed her mane. “Stalkers!” Jarod dug his heels into the white-eyed stallion. Branches whipped around Ariana’s face. She bent low avoiding the branches trying to sweep her from the saddle. Her fingers tangled in the reins and the reek of horse sweat filled her nose. The mare’s labored breathing pounded her ears. A screaming snarl and a large body crashing through the undergrowth sounded behind them. She glanced back; a shadowy shape sped toward them. She leaned forward, gave the mare her head and prayed for speed.