Origin

by Samantha Smith

  Just as she reached Gemma, Elwyn heard a sharp whistling noise, as an arrow whizzed by just missing her arm. She turned and glanced back toward the campfire and could just barely make out four figures creeping out of the shadowy woods beyond their camp. Three were bunched together creeping toward Thane, and the fourth was attempting to nock another arrow to, most likely, take a second shot at her. She shouted a warning to Thane and quickly untethered the morden. Raffe’s hooves thundered as he raced to provide Thane with some protection. Elwyn jumped up on Gemma’s back to get a better vantage point, nocked an arrow, and let it fly toward the archer. She quickly followed the first arrow with a second. Her aim seemed true. The shadowy figure fell and lay motionless on the grass, but not before dark billowing smoke seemed to rise from his location masking him, his companions, and Thane from view. She urged Gemma into a gallop as she rode to help Thane who was woefully outnumbered trying, with Raffe’s help, to battle the other three assassins.

  Without a second thought, Elwyn jumped down from Gemma’s back as they drew close to the camp so that her mount could join Raffe in fighting one of the assassins. The scent of blood was almost overwhelming, but, as yet, there was none to be seen. Thane was on the other side of the campfire trying to fend off two of the assassins with his sword. Elwyn drew her short sword from its scabbard and rushed in to help, drawing the attack of one of the assassins to her. As she fought the muted green cloaked killer, she tried to remember all the tricks Rhys taught her during their many sparring sessions. Sparring with Rhys always felt to her like some form of formal dance with moves and countermoves that took on a rhythm and a pattern of their own. Elwyn had no doubt, however, that the dance she was currently engaged in was a dance of death for at least one of them.

  As she fought, her anger grew, fueling her strength. She lost all track of time and focused solely on her attacker. It felt as if his red eyes were boring right through her, and his flat expressionless face was one that she knew would haunt her for a long time to come. Her attacker was very skilled. She had to give him that. She searched through her inventory of moves many times for ones that he wouldn’t be able to immediately counter. The exchange of blows went on and on until Elwyn felt herself slowly beginning to tire. The stress of the past few days had taken a toll on her stamina. She realized that she had to gain an advantage soon, or die. As if by instinct alone, she drew her skinning knife and threw it at her attacker while parrying his thrusts. The small knife hit home, striking the soft flesh at her assassin’s throat. His sword arm dropped for just an instant, allowing Elwyn to pierce his chest with her short sword. The killer fell dead at her feet, blood gushing from a large open wound in his chest.

  Elwyn quickly took stock of how Thane and the morden were doing in their fights. The two morden were trying to keep one of the assassins occupied so that he could not join the second, who was engaged in fighting Thane. She knew immediately that she should join Thane in his fight, as he was probably tiring by now as well. The morden were much stronger and, as long as their thick hide didn’t get pierced, could hold their own. As Elwyn joined Thane in the heated battle against his attacker, she heard or felt a shrill keening. Keroc, back from his hunt, swooped in to aid the morden. Elwyn felt upset with herself because she knew she should have thought to contact him earlier.

  As Elwyn joined in the fight against the assassin who was attacking Thane, she quickly realized that he was probably the leader of the squad. He was taller, stronger, and better skilled than the killer she’d defeated. And unfortunately for the two of them, he also fought smarter. Elwyn recognized immediately that she would be unable to fool this opponent with a simple knife trick. His blood red eyes and flat expressionless face danced between Thane and herself, taking in their every move, and anticipating the next. This dance of death went on for much longer than her first fight.

  Even with Thane and Elwyn matching the assassin strike for strike, he never seemed to tire or falter. Suddenly from behind them there was a loud commotion. Elwyn had to fight hard to keep her focus on the enemy in front of her, especially when she heard Keroc suddenly scream in pain; a sensation she also felt in her head. As if by reaction, her head started to turn in the direction of Keroc’s scream. As it did, Thane leaped across and in front of her. The eyes of the assassin they’d been fighting followed him, looking for an opportunity to strike. This left Elwyn a small opening while his attention was elsewhere. With all her strength she lunged and thrust her sword into his throat. The assassin fell at her feet, his blood spurting from the artery she’d severed, soaking into the ground around her. His hand still clutched his sword. At Thane’s insistence, she leaned down over him and quickly cut his throat, taking great care to avoid his blade.

  She turned to find Keroc nowhere in sight, and Thane hunched over holding his leg. In her line of sight, she saw the assassin she thought she’d killed earlier standing up preparing to fire another arrow into their tightly clustered group. Elwyn reached down, picked up Thane’s bow from next to his bed pad, got an arrow, and in less than a breaths time sent it flying toward the enemy archer. She followed up even more quickly with another shot. Her aim seemed true, and the assassin fell to the ground for a second time from her arrows. Just to be sure that this time he would stay that way, she ran over and finished him off with her sword.

  By the time she ran back to help fight the final assassin, he was lying on the ground battered, bruised, and bloodied from the strikes of the morden hooves and the deep wounds inflicted by the missing drakenhawk. The assassin lay quietly on the ground unconscious and barely breathing. Elwyn knew that there could be no prisoners or survivors left to report back to King Stefan, but the idea of taking yet another life made her shutter in revulsion. It was as if the smell of death in the air was seeping into her soul and forcing her to see herself in a new light. As if he knew how she felt, Raffe stepped over to the fourth assassin, reared, and brought his heavy hooves down on the enemy’s head, crushing his skull. Elwyn shuttered, but was grateful that it was not she who had to finish the job. The shadow squad struck and they had died, but at what price? Elwyn sadly knew that it was now time to assess the damage.

  Chapter 16 – Unexpected Delays

  Ayron was interrupted from his meal by the sound of Clayre urgently shouting for him and Galdor. After quickly eating her dinner, Clayre left them and took a bowl of stew and a piece of fresh baked bread to Rhys, hoping the food would help strengthen him. She also wanted to share with him Ayron’s plan to travel through another night. As anxious as Rhys was to see Ayron leave and go join Elwyn, she thought the news would cheer him. Clayre leaned over Rhys’ sleeping body and touched him lightly on the shoulder. Rhys did not stir at her touch. Puzzled, she reached up and felt his forehead. The heat radiating from his head felt almost hot enough to scald her hand. Quickly she ran to get a pan of cold water, shouting for Galdor as she ran. Clayre hurried back to Rhys and put cold compresses on his forehead, chest, and arms.

  When Galdor arrived, he confirmed Clayre’s suspicion that an infection had set in and was raging throughout Rhys’ body. While Clayre talked to Ayron, Galdor stripped Rhys so that they could apply cold towels all over his body in an attempt to lower his dangerously high body temperature. Galdor was racked with guilt. He’d checked on Rhys several times that afternoon, but since Rhys always seemed to be sleeping peacefully, had chosen not to try to wake him. Unfortunately that resulted in them not catching the infection until it had taken a firm hold. Galdor was sure that there was a significant amount of fluid in both of Rhys’ lungs. As he listened, he could hear crackling noises in Rhys chest as he labored to breathe. The healer was determined to use every tool and talent he possessed to save this man.

  For some reason Ayron was having trouble getting Keroc off of his mind. He was thinking of trying to contact him again, just to check in, when Clayre came running up with tears flowing freely down her face.

  “Oh Ayron,” Clayre said, choking out the words. “We can’t leave tonight. Rhys
has developed a serious infection and any travel now will kill him. I know that you want to get underway so that we can get to Amarni as soon possible, but we can’t travel until his temperature drops.”

  “Try not to panic, Clayre,” said Ayron sensing her terror at the prospect of losing someone she loved so much. “We will do whatever you think is best for Rhys. I think we are fairly safe from attack sitting here right outside the city, but we are capable of protecting the two of you in any case. You go back to Galdor and help him try to save Rhys. If you find that there is anything else that you need from the medicine shop, I will send a man to fetch it, even if he has to wake the entire city. In the mean time, I will have my men gather more firewood, keep broth and tea on the fire, and set up some shelters to protect us from the storm that is brewing. Please try to remember that Rhys is a strong man and a fighter. I have to believe that he’ll come through this, if only for Elwyn’s sake. Now go, sweet lady; tend to your family.”

  As Ayron watched Clayre run back to where Rhys lay, he signaled his soldiers to cluster around him. He briefly explained to them why they would not be traveling during the night as planned. He informed them that based on the speed of the dark clouds approaching their location, he was expecting the storm to reach land and be over them in about two hours. He ordered Stuart to gather more firewood and to move the fire to a more sheltered location under the trees. He also asked him to find a safe location out of the way of any hale or lightning for the morden, the horses, and the wagon. He then asked Kormir to make sure that he kept plenty of hot tea available to drink, had a kettle of hot water available for the healers to use if needed, and to make a plentiful supply of broth to warm and nourish them all. Ayron ordered Alea to assist the two healers and make sure that they had plenty of cold water from the stream available to help bring down Rhys’ temperature. He sent four of his soldiers to post a guard surrounding the camp, and explained to them that they would be relieved in four hours, when another team of guards would replace them. Finally, he ordered the rest of his soldiers to put up shelters for Rhys and Clayre as well as for the rest of the troops, making sure to tell them to anchor the structures securely in the ground. If he was correct, the storm moving in their direction was going to be a bad one, with lots of rain, hale, and powerful winds.

  Preparations for the storm were completed just as the first strong gusts of wind accompanied by a light driving rain, hit the campsite. Ayron kept himself busy by going to each area and offering his help in making preparations. He knew that there was little he could do to help the healers as they worked on Rhys, but at least he could ensure that they had everything they needed, and were as sheltered from the storm as possible. He continued to hover and check on each person in the group because he cared and felt it was his responsibility to keep everyone safe. As the evening went on, the storm grew in intensity. The horses and one or two of the morden became restless and anxious at the thunder and lightning. Ayron had to ask Stuart, who was the most talented of his soldiers with animals, to go and stay with them and try to keep them from panicking.

  Ayron stopped by the shelter where Clayre and Galdor were frantically trying to keep Rhys body cooled down and, at the same time, feed him broth containing a variety of herbs that would help fight the infection. They seemed be using the cool water as fast as Alea could bring it from the pond. He noticed that Alea looked tired and was sure that she could use a rest. His preference would have been to relieve her, but everyone was occupied and he had no one to take her place. He felt a real surge of pride as he saw Alea marched back and forth to the pond carrying the heavy bucket in the raging storm, hour after hour, never once stopping to complain.

  After four hours passed, Ayron went to wake the guards that were to replace those already on duty. He knew that they hadn’t had time to get much rest and cautioned them not to get complacent and to stay alert for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. He checked on Rhys one more time and after being told that things were the same, he went back to his shelter hoping to get some much needed rest. He took off his soaked uniform and put on some dry clothes that he could sleep in. As he did that, he reflected on the day and how his plan had somehow seriously fallen apart. Here he was with Rhys who, probably because he had to travel so soon after being injured, was in danger of dying.

  Before falling asleep, Ayron reached out to check in with Keroc. He was puzzled by his inability to solicit a response, even though he could sense the link between them; being life-bonded to a companion allowed each of them to always have a sense of the other. If Keroc died, Ayron would have been immediately aware that the bond had been broken. Since that hadn’t happened, he couldn’t figure out why Keroc was silent. He definitely had the feeling that the silence was not a good thing, and it caused him to worry about what might be happening to Elwyn and Thane. He’d been too busy to try to contact Keroc earlier and now felt guilty that he hadn’t followed his own instincts. Ayron tried to reach him a few more times, but to no avail. Keroc was silent and unreachable. Ayron hoped that his little drakenhawk had not been harmed in any way. Ayron was frustrated by his inability to find out how the other group was faring and if something had happened to them.

  As Ayron lay there, trying to relax, he thought of the times he’d interacted with Keroc during the day. He had been shocked and a bit dismayed by the image Keroc sent him while he was eating food from Elwyn’s bare hand. Keroc seemed to laugh at his surprise and scoff at his concern that she wasn’t wearing the thick leather glove that was always used when handling a drakenhawk. Ayron found himself feeling a bit jealous and, to be honest, a tiny bit put out at the intimacy his niece was able to establish with Keroc so quickly. These feelings intensified when Keroc shared with him an image of her stroking his head and back. The image was difficult for him to watched knowing that, as much he loved Keroc, he’d never dared touch him with his bare hand. He felt determined to spend some time with Keroc after all this craziness was over and find out more about his drakenhawk’s likes and needs.

  Later that same afternoon, Keroc sent him several mental images of Thane and Elwyn discussing strategy, setting up camp, and finally of him being ravenously hungry, but planning to scout the area thoroughly before going off to hunt. When he’d contacted Keroc again while they were waiting for dinner, Keroc had been on his way to hunt for food. That was the last time Ayron tried to contact him until he settled in his tent.

  This was the first break he’d had all evening. He desperately hoped that Keroc hadn’t been injured while hunting and was lying somewhere alone and unable to summon help. He also hoped that Thane, Elwyn, and Keroc had come to no harm from some type of attack. As if his worries about them weren’t enough, he wasn’t sure what to say to Rhys and Clayre. The first thing they were going to ask the next time he checked in with them was how she was. He knew that the only news he had to give them at this point would be bad for Rhys, especially given his current condition.

  Chapter 17 – A Battle With Despair

  Assured that the immediate danger was past, Elwyn went to where Thane sat slumped on the ground. After examining him and seeing just a small scratch on his upper arm where his tunic was torn, she was encouraged. That feeling was short lived however, as she listened to his words.

  “I fear that this wound of mine is fatal, my friend,” he said to Elwyn sadly. “I would have enjoyed accompanying you on the rest of your journey and getting to know you better. I fear that Keroc has succumbed to his injuries as well. I am so sorry that you will have to finish your journey to Kren alone. You have been through so much, and now it appears that Keroc and I are leaving you to fend for yourself.”

  “Hush Thane,” she said, the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I am going to save you. Clayre packed some medicines in my saddle pack for just such an emergency as this. I’m sure that there is something in there that will help to disseminate this poison.”

  Over the next three hours, Elwyn worked feverishly to save Thane from the poison that continued to slow
ly spread throughout his body. During that time, he told her that she should finish her journey to the village as they discussed. He also recommended that she just ride straight through and not stop to camp, because it would be the best way to avoid another assassination attempt.

  “Thane, do you remember what happened?” Elwyn asked with tears freely flowing from her eyes as she worked feverishly to stop the spread of the poison.

  “I saw the archer stand up in the meadow out of the corner of my eye and aim for you. I realized then that he’d not been mortally wounded and regained consciousness determined to help his companions.

  Then I heard Keroc, who probably noticed him too and was preparing to attack, scream in pain. He must have flown directly into the path of the arrow and was hit. I was afraid to look away to see what happened to him.

  I realized then that I would have to split my attentions between the assassin we were fighting and the archer I saw standing in the meadow. I saw the archer fire off another shot in your direction, and tried to jump in its path, and knock it down with my sword. I am very happy that I was successful, but a bit sad that the assassin’s arrow grazed my arm in the process.”

  Elwyn cursed herself for not having ridden over and checked on the archer after she saw him fall, rather than just assuming that he was dead. She had one companion dead and another dying and realized that it was all her fault. Her heart heavy with grief, she apologized to Thane.

  “You did well today. Do not spend unnecessary time berating yourself. The lessons of warfare are not learned suddenly but over time, as experience teaches us more with each battle. You have been thrust into a very difficult situation and I, for one, couldn’t have been more pleased with how you behaved in combat.”