by Chris Ward
‘You are Edenwhood, and you bear Elwand. You are changed henceforth.’
Then he sat once more and asked for ale and seemed no more than a travelling monk who had stumbled upon their camp. They talked of simple things for that was all he allowed; things of life and love and beauty, and of doing right and listening to the heart. After a time he stood.
‘I will be going now.’
‘Will we see you again?’ asked Rema.
‘That depends,’ said El-Arathor, and spoke no further on the matter. He paused and reached beneath his cloak once more and then laid a beautiful sheath and belt for a sword upon the root on which he had rested. ‘I almost forgot,’ were his parting words.
And then he walked into the night and was gone, and although they listened carefully they heard no further sound, and Rema knew there was no horse at all.
Andes held up Elwand in the light and swung the sword expertly.
‘You are a gift beyond imagining,’ he whispered to himself. ‘What fate awaits us Elwand?’ And Rema knew they shared the same thought.
They settled uneasily for the night; their minds were full of many things, but as they drifted into unconsciousness Andes spoke the last.
‘We have been travelling only one day, and all this has come to pass so I cannot imagine what tomorrow will bring. Fryn will hold you personally responsible Rema.’
And in the darkness Rema smiled.
The Beast sat upon its ornate but tiny throne. It quivered in anger as the two Wrythers before it did not give full obeisance. I would swat them as a human would an insect it thought, but they are as common as the sands and their replacements would likely be worse.
The Wrythers had no shape or form except when they were still and this was rare. Like two mating eels they danced before the Beast seemingly immune from his great power, safe behind their commonness.
‘The Mighty Lord Ungarit wants your word upon what you owe,’ the Wrythers sang in awful provocative unison causing the Beast to hiss for he hated the name of that which ruled all.
‘Tell my Lord that all goes well, ‘the Beast spoke with disdain, ‘but I deal with men and they do not obey as I would like. Lord Ungarit knows this. All takes time.’ It paused. ‘My land is sinking, the waters come too fast. Please tell the Mighty Lord that I am losing my Kingdom before I have ruled it, and then there will be no embodiment for those who desire to follow me.’ The Beast spat the words at the Wrythers who laughed gleefully and entwined about themselves all the more.
‘The Lord Ungarit measures your fear on this,’ they sang, ‘and says the land will cease to be eaten by the water when you have established the tribute which was agreed.’
The Beast roared in anger and frustration. The Wrythers became ecstatic at this display, and the Beast turned from that subject to other matters.
‘What news from the shadow one?’ it asked; loathing that it had to.
‘The evil has moved; the bow is gone. The other things as well,’ chorused the Wrythers, which brought an immediate response.
‘What! Where has it gone? I had it watched now near a hundred winters, and what news of those who we suspect?’ The Beast’s distress fed the Wrythers’ needs.
‘These two were at the heart when the Lord Ungarit released his fire,’ they sang ‘The shadow one reports they were destroyed. Their refuge is no more. Many died.’ The cackling creatures’ glee was obvious.
‘But the evil has moved,’ hissed the Beast, now increasingly agitated which encouraged the Wrythers mightily. A dark silence then grew, till...
‘What does the shadow one say on this?’ demanded the Beast.
‘We know little,’ came the tuneless reply, ‘but it hunts he evil now.’
‘And the road east has been closed.’ The Beast spoke for himself but the Wrythers had more to offer on this.
‘The Lord Ungarit released the quaking and the Town fell to the Lowlands. There is no longer a road. The evil cannot travel that way. The Highlands are cut off.’
And a great city which I might rule with many subjects has been destroyed and all I asked was for a road to be closed as a precaution, thought the Beast in a fuming rage. ‘And of the other shadow one?’ it asked the two writhing wraiths.
‘It guards along the escarpment, as always,’ came the dual reply.
‘Go now.’ The Beast dismissed them and the Wrythers sped off into another place.
The Beast sat still in thought upon its throne and slowly transformed into humanness, but its anger was not dissipated in the least.
I have long planned this return. Lord Ungarit promised me this land and I will not fail again. The evil is on the move and though the blade still stands against me, much has been achieved; but I am betrayed at every turn. They seek embodiment but will not allow me to clear the path. And then...
The human with the heart of a beast stood and walked out into the light.
Chapter 4
They rode hard the following day in good spirits for each had much to contemplate. Rema felt that his friend Andes could now see a reason for their journey, and indeed as he looked upon the giant man he could see the new confidence with which he rode; high in the saddle with Elwand at his side he seemed now to look beyond the horizon and perhaps, thought Rema, he will endure this separation from Fryn. Their encounter with El-Arathor had changed everything. He too felt a new focus, vindicated in his strange search for answers to questions about the travail of the land, and enthralled that they had met the one about whom his namesake had written with such awe. As Rema rode he realised that the world beyond The Safeness was far larger than he could have ever imagined.
And darker.
Perhaps we ride into a hornets’ nest, he thought grimly. Perhaps more than one.
They found the town of Ashe in turmoil. It was hardly surprising for to the southeast they saw a huge column of dense and billowing smoke rising high up. When first they caught sight of it, far off, Andes had exclaimed.
‘Ashe is burning, what sorcery is at work in Revelyn Rema, for all this destruction to come about at this time?’
But as they rode over the last ridge and looked down upon the town they realised that Ashe was safe; the smoke was far beyond, a score of leagues at least Rema thought.
‘It is another eruption,’ said Andes in awe.
‘The same column of smoke, the shape of it. Look, I can see lightning in the heart of it,’ replied Rema. ‘Half way to Lake Freya is my estimation.’ They sat quietly for a time.
‘Ashe is well named,’ said the great man sniffing the air. ‘The wind has brought the town a deadly gift if I am not wrong.’
Indeed as they rode into the town they saw that everything was covered in a fine layer of ash and the people were greatly agitated. Rema listened to the sound of the town, for he had a great sensitivity to the mood and emotion of a people. He caught bits of conversation, and a desperate fear and mourning as they rode into the heart of Ashe.
‘Where can we go?’ wailed a woman sitting on the ghostly ground,’ my children in Farview are lost; this new doom is our death.’
‘It is sorcery, mark my words...’ a dark and intense looking older man spoke as he stared ghoul-like at them, spitting out the words.
‘It will be alright my loves.’ A father and husband reassured his family, his arms about them but a look upon his face which belied his words...
All about was confusion, and to the south east towered the mighty column darkening the sky and threatening to bury the land in a cloak of deadly ash.
‘This town was my favourite place to visit,’ whispered Rema to Andes as they rode on. ‘Refr used to bring me here once a year for supplies we could not get in the mountains. It is dying Andes.’ His friend nodded but did not speak for the enormity of the situation was apparent. They could not buy food, and a new horse for Andes was out of the question. People were loading carts and any beast which could carry a load with possessions, and few would stop to talk; those who did gave only the same advice.
‘Flee young man... while you can,’ said a half crazed woman with wild eyes to Rema as they passed. She grabbed at his saddle momentarily. ‘There is evil in the air, and none can stand against such a thing.’ She kept glancing all the while at the towering column, as if under some dark spell, but it seemed she could not bring herself to look full at it, such was the fear and dread it offered. ‘Flee,’ she cried, running off into the crowd unnoticed by the throng for all were nearing panic and had not time for anything but the small tasks which they had decided upon.
Rema and Andes found themselves moving against the growing mass of the fleeing.
‘We must go that way.’ Rema indicated with his chin and a flick of his head toward the south and closer to the awesome billowing column. Andes nodded grimly but said nothing.
They rode out of Ashe and into an empty land. A land of footprints cloaked in grey; footprints going the other way and which cried one word. Flee! And for the first time Rema wondered if some greater force was trying to stop their journey before it had even begun.
They spent the night in a barn, halting their travel early for the darkness seemed to come before it should. But they were comfortable enough, plenty of hay upon which to lie, and warm too for the air was not cold at all. They found fresh eggs, although all the chickens had disappeared, and in the morning, as he woke groggily to the new day, Andes informed his friend that it was snowing.
‘That is not snow,’ said Rema grimly as he cooked some more eggs.
‘Do you hear the silence?’ Andes said after a time; they both paused to listen, and each shivered a little, for there was no sound at all. No morning rooster or the snuffling of hungry pigs. No birds calling or animals complaining. ‘The land is under a spell Rema,’ the giant continued, and we travel deeper into it.’
‘Here, eat some eggs,’ said Rema as cheerfully as he could, trying to break the gloomy mood. ‘At least we have found good fare and we slept well enough.’
‘I wonder what Fryn is doing today, ’said Andes half to himself as they ate, and Rema knew then that his friend was missing his love more than he might admit.
The road south was fair travelling at the start. Rema knew that the Swifft River lay several leagues to the west and at some point they would need to travel cross country to meet it, but not till they were much closer to the escarpment where it plunged down into the Lowlands in a mighty gorge. They passed a few poor travellers, all heading for Ashe. All news was of a land lost under the grey blanket which in places lay a cubit or more deep.
‘We must keep to the road as best we can,’ Rema advised, for we cannot tell how deep the ash fall is, and at least it is firm underfoot. But slowly the road disappeared. It became harder to tell where it ran, and in places where the land was still unsettled it became a matter of chance for there were no fields or hedgerows to mark the path. Twice Andes’ beast stumbled and fell, and he had to lead it quietly until it had recovered enough for him to remount. At noon Rema called a halt and they both admitted they had lost the road. Looking back they could see their lone tracks clearly in the ash; ahead, the grey carpet lay as undisturbed as the land was quiet, and to the east and now a little north, but much closer, was the great column of ash still billowing up, and towering above all else.
‘The wind takes it east for now,’ said Andes as he drank a little water, ‘but if it turns west we will be quickly consumed. Should we not head to the river now Rema?’ he wiped his hands across his brow leaving a smear of ghostly grey across his troubled face.
Rema looked around and considered their position. They were in a shallow valley which ran east. He took out a small map which he had carried with him since leaving Highton. After careful consideration he estimated their distance to the Swifft River gorge to be no more than ten leagues although he was not sure how far off the road they were. At that moment they heard a faint crying. They turned in unison and looked, for it came from the east, further up the valley, toward the danger.
‘Was that human?’ Andes asked, cupping one hand to an ear and turning his head about trying to locate the source. But Rema had heard more clearly.
‘It is a woman and she is in trouble,’ he said, standing in his stirrups and resting both hands upon the pommel, one ear turned toward the sounds. The two friends looked at each other, knowing immediately that each step eastward was perilous. They looked up at the towering column of death and then without a word rode toward the plaintive pleading. Within a short distance they came upon a village half buried beneath the ash. It was no more than a dozen small houses and assorted sheds and animals pens, grouped around a rough square. The ash was deep in places and many of the dwellings had collapsed under the weight. The crying had stopped so Rema and Andes stood looking around wondering where the woman might be.
‘Help me,’ came the faint cry once again and then Andes was running quickly towards the broken house from which it came. Rema leapt after him but took a moment to secure the horses knowing that without them their travel in such dangerous terrain was all but impossible.
‘Over here Rema, come quickly! ’Andes’ call was tinged with desperation.
Rema joined him in a trice and they surveyed the pitiful scene. The woman was young, no older then Fryn and beautiful in the manner of a lass who has spent her life beneath the sun and embracing any weather. She lay beneath a tumble of beams and ash, her leg trapped at an angle which both Rema and Andes saw to be impossible, other than that it was badly crushed and broken. Andes knelt by her side.
‘We are here, we heard your cry.’ He held her hand and the young woman opened her eyes wide as if in disbelief.
‘You came,’ she said in a weak and distant voice, her eyes unfocused. ‘I knew you would come Soren. My leg is hurting and I have lain here all night. Please help me.’ She closed her eyes and seemed to drift off into a far place.
‘I will help you,’ Andes whispered into her ear and then looked at Rema. Both knew that she was near death and did not know who was before her.
‘I love you Soren,’ the woman whispered softly squeezing Andes’ hand. ‘All night I dreamt of you. I knew you would come. Thank you.’ Rema saw the emotion in his friend’s face and knew he was thinking of Fryn. He knelt beside them.
‘Andes her leg is trapped; can you lift it,’ he whispered. Andes said nothing but placed the woman’s hand in Rema’s, and took hold of the beam which seemed most to rest upon the woman’s leg. He strained but could not move it at all. Rema watched his mighty strength slowly ebb away until he released the timber and swore in frustration.
‘There is too much rubble and other wreckage upon the beam. I cannot move it. Even together we could not move it Rema. We need to cut it.’ He looked about but there was nothing, not even an axe in sight. ‘I will look about Rema, stay with the poor girl, I will not be long. We cannot leave her.’ He darted out the nearest door and Rema waited with the injured woman who stirred every now and then and mumbled incoherently about her love for her Soren. Rema was greatly moved but knew that even if they could release her she would likely not last long. He broken leg was red and infected, and he thought she must have lain there for several days.
Andes returned dejected. ‘There is nothing Rema, everything is buried; perhaps we can dig her out from underneath.’ He started to pull at the rubble, which only caused some more unstable timbers higher up to fall down upon them all in a cloud of choking dust.
‘Wait, Andes!’ Rema cried, coughing mightily. ‘Let us think this through. You hold her hand and reassure her, you are better at that than I.’ Andes nodded and they exchanged places, but as they did another sound came upon them.
‘What is that?’ Andes asked, a look of great concern upon his face. They listened and could hear a faint but ominous rumble, as if someone was pushing rocks along a road. Rema suddenly went cold inside. He knew what it must be, some instinct screamed out the danger.
‘I will go and see,’ he said abruptly and ran off. In the square outside the collapsed house R
ema turned about until the sound was located. It is further up the valley from the east, he thought, which only further confirmed his fearful suspicion. He ran toward the sound and several hundred paces further on he came upon it.
‘Larva,’ he breathed in an agony of realisation, for a wall of molten rock as high as a horse was slowly descending down the valley. Everything in its path was bursting into flame or piling up in unstable heaps before being consumed by the fearful flow. In a moment Rema assessed the situation.
‘It will be on the village in a half a span,’ he whispered aloud, ‘for it is gaining speed. There is more behind driving it on. At any moment it will flood like a river, and nothing will outrun it then.’ A wave of heat came to him and he retreated as fast as he could to the village. He knelt beside his friend.
‘Andes, we are about to be overrun by larva which will destroy all of this,’ he said softy to the giant. Andes groaned for he too had guessed what was to befall them. They looked upon the girl who smiled up at Andes.
‘You are so handsome Soren,’ she whispered from her pain.
Rema and Andes felt a crushing hand squeeze their hearts.
‘We cannot save her Andes,’ Rema said firmly. ‘It is a dreadful thing but she is going to die.’
‘We cannot just leave her like this,’ said Andes as tears poured down his face. ‘She cannot be alone.’
Rema thought hard and made a decision, one which he did not want to speak of.
‘Andes, the horses are outside. You take them and lead them up the far hill. Go back north, I think it is the safest for the land is steeper that way and we will get above the flow.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Andes asked, his eyes suddenly wide and staring hard at Rema who took a breath.
‘What you cannot. Now go.’ And with that he gave his friend a mighty whack upon his back and forced him up. ‘I will need to know where you are so watch for me, I will be running.’ Andes paused, staring down at the poor woman who knew nothing of the dreadful approaching mass which could be heard quite clearly now. Suddenly the giant knelt once more and whispered into her ear.
