by Chris Ward
Sylvion was before him in an instant. She wielded her Shadow Blade with two exquisite and deadly strikes as he stood there confused and trying to make some defence, he suddenly saw he was without his hands and deep within knew he could cast no further spells or use his sorcery to strike back. Sylvion saw that no blood flowed from his severed arms but only a dripping black ooze which confirmed that this man was no longer human but possessed of something deep and evil. As the high Priest began to scream, for he felt the pain of his wounds both the physical, and the searing knowledge of it, Sylvion went quickly to the stupefied assembly of half-men in their hooded robes, and with deadly force she slew them all. One strike one death, and then she looked upon her handiwork and knew her heart was cold but she did not hesitate for she knew what she did was right.
Her companions saw it all unfold, but in a fog which would allow no understanding until all had been finished. They marvelled at the speed and deadly beauty of Sylvion’s revenge but could do nothing save to look on in awe. And when all in the assembly lay dead Sylvion returned to the High Priest who stood alive but in a great agony of pain and fear upon the platform high above the sea, and she allowed the light to fade and she lowered her Blade and stood before him. Then as the first loose rocks from high above slammed into the stone floor, she spoke in a voice which filled the amphitheatre with truth.
‘Your evil ends this day, sorcerer,’ she cried in anger white and pure. ‘No longer will you take human life and offer it to some demyn god who seeks blood and offers nothing but death and futile superstitions in return...’
‘But he lives!’ the High Priest wailed as his black ooze stained the sacred platform at his feet, ‘he is real...’
‘Then you will go to join him now, for I am sure he will welcome one so valuable as you, although in truth you are blemished now,’ Sylvion replied, and with a cruel laugh she kicked his severed hands into the void as the High Priest looked on in horror. And then in words spoken slowly and with deadly malice, Sylvion gave her final orders.
‘Now walk out upon the slab you love to tread with others in your thrall,’ she commanded, and when the pitifull creature did not move she used her Shadow Blade to prompt him and so with great wails and pleadings he finally did as she wished. He stood upon the long thin rocky slab and teetered above the void.
‘Now call upon your evil lord,’ Sylvion commanded and by using her blade she forced him to chant his sorcery until the sky turned yellow and the seas receded to a place far below and the evil wind whistled throughout the amphitheatre once more, and then with a single slice Sylvion cut the man’s throat and with a fearful kick launched him into oblivion, and they all saw him fall and only a final scream lingered momentarily as his last offering to his fell kingdom of blood and evil human sacrifice. And then Sylvion allowed her anger to subside and she looked upon her handiwork and trembled for it was indeed awful to behold.
It had taken but a few brief moments, and now the others stood in quiet and solemn silence and as the fog within their minds dissolved to nothingness, they began to realise just what had come to pass.
Sylvion did not linger, for she was already thinking of what next they must do. She sprang up the stone steps and in a moment released the other three from their bonds.
‘We leave now, look no more upon this,’ she cried, ‘there will be others in the tunnels no doubt and I have no wish to slaughter more, although in truth I will do so if required.’ And so they followed her into the tunnel and ran back to where at last they entered the massive temple to Ungarit. There she paused and took breath. ‘I would destroy all this if time allowed,’ Sylvion hissed as she surveyed the mighty place...’
‘My Lady I have all the weapons safe.’ Orcxyl was the first to speak and his words brought some normality to their emotions.
‘Ah Orcxyl,’ Sylvion said with great warmth, ‘we cannot talk now but we are once more in your debt. Please let us recover our weapons and flee before more violence crosses our path.’ And so Orcxyl gave Sylvion her sheath for the Shadow Blade which had been belted upon him, and then he led them quickly to the stairs by which they had entered the mighty hidden temple and which gave access to the world above. They paused upon the stone landing some flights above and Orcxyl went with Rema up a side flight of steps to the gallery where he had hidden, and they soon returned with the weapons. As they took them, the sudden sound of pursuit came clearly through the temple chamber and the tunnels they had just passed through.
‘We know not what further sorcery awaits in this evil place,’ Sylvion cried. ‘Let us not wait to lose all again. Come we must flee.’ There was no argument with this, and so in short time they returned up to the light and discovered their horses still standing as they left them, in the lee of the great rock which gave protection from the howling wind which seemed far stronger than ever before. The sounds of a desperate pursuit carried clearly to them upon the winds and so taking a fearful chance they mounted and let their horses pick a path across the fractured tortured rock until once more the wall and open gate was seen ahead. Looking back, an angry force of what looked like half-man, well armed, ran with amazing agility and fleet footedness toward them, howling as they did so.
‘They are faster than us,’ Reigin said, ‘They know this place, and our horses are fearful of a fall.’
‘We will not stand here to fight,’ Sylvion commanded, ‘let us get through the gate and turn and fight them there if we must.’ And so their desperate flight continued whilst the maddened throng behind came ever closer. It was a near thing indeed but they swept through the gate and dismounted fifty paces on, and with weapons drawn they waited. It then dawned upon them suddenly that there was no longer any wind and the sun shone and gentle animals of the meadow abounded; the grass was green and long and welcoming. It was a different world. Looking back they saw the evil half-men stop at the gate and scream in anger at them to return and fight, but not one seemed able to cross out into the land beyond the headland where the wall divided two realms.
‘They are bound to that place and cannot venture forth,’ Rema observed. ‘We will not need to fight them.’ But even as he said it Gravyn loosed an arrow which travelled truly and dropped a creature dead.
‘Enough,’ Sylvion ordered but without anger for she understood the archer’s want to take some action against the evil he had seen. ‘Enough Gravyn. We are free from that place. There will be time enough for your skill to have its place.’
‘My Lady,’ Gravyn, said quietly in honest acknowledgment of her authority, and so he stood back and lowered his bow.
And then they turned and rode west toward the mighty forest which stretched away unbroken five hundred leagues or more.
‘Where do we travel now?’ Rema asked once the headland behind had been lost to view and the last cries of anger and frustration from the evil half creatures no longer came to them on the breeze.
‘We go to Svalbard,’ Sylvion replied firmly. ‘We go to Svalbard.’
‘Wherever that is,’ Reigin said quietly. ‘But yes we must go to Svalbard.’
‘Let us put some distance between us and this fell place,’ Sylvion continued, ‘and then we will stop and talk about what has come to pass, but not yet, for I need some space to think upon what I have done.’ She spoke with such an open honesty that the others felt deeply for her, and realised that what they had seen was not without cost to the one who had delivered it.
And so no more was said, but all rode on with many thoughts on which to ponder.
Chapter 15
The sun was warm and the travelling easy. They rode west passing the road which led up from the abandoned city and on three leagues till they encountered a division where three paths led off to the south and west and north. An old stone building stood there and as the company knew not which way to go they rested, finding good shelter in the ruin of what seemed to all, to once have been an Inn. A fire was soon roaring in the ancient hearth which stood as though unchanged for half an age. The roof above o
ffered only partial cover, for the thatch was long gone, but as the weather seemed warm and any rain unlikely it mattered little. Sylvion summoned them all once the horses were fed and watered; this too proved an easy task as the feed was abundant and close by a stone water trough held recent rainfall. Orcxyl lingered with them and ensured they were no longer distressed. He spoke to each animal as a friend and they greatly enjoyed his voice and soft hands upon them.
‘Come Orcxyl,’ Sylvion called a second time and soon they all sat before the fire and shared some simple fare and turned their thoughts once more to what had came to pass. At Sylvion’s request Orcxyl told his story first. He looked at each of the others for a moment before he did so, as if to find the words, which when they came, were bold and clear, and Rema thought, you speak as you hunt my friend.
‘I saw you bound by some spell,’ he said. ‘I did not follow you into the temple. I went up into the gallery and waited for I thought the situation dangerous and required more caution that you cared to show.’ At this criticism Gravyn had a mind to give some retort but Sylvion silenced him with a glance and in truth he knew the hunter was right. They all did.
‘I waited till you had been taken off,’ he continued. ‘Then I came down and recovered all the weapons which in great ignorance were foolishly disregarded. Two creatures returned for them soon after, but they were stupid and did not know what to do. In fear they planned to say nothing. This was good for us.’ They all nodded in agreement at this as he went on. ‘I planned to follow and if possible set you free, but instead I was overtaken by some enchantment and fell into a deep sleep. I did not wake for a time, indeed it was a very long time for when I did it was a new day, this very morning, and the night had passed although I was not sure how long I had been unconscious.’ Orcxyl took a small drink of ale and then a bite of some bread and munched thoughtfully before once more continuing. ‘I returned to the temple as soon as I woke and carried only your weapon My Lady. The sorcery I had seen was beyond my simple bow and arrows. I thought that our only chance was to get the blade to you.’
At this Sylvion smiled and spoke warmly. ‘You were wise indeed Orcxyl. But how did you find us?’
‘Well I used the sheath, which had been close upon your person My Lady. It carries your scent. I filled myself with this and then your footprints in tunnels stood clear enough. I found a passage to one side where you had been taken, but your trail was stronger going on from there and I believed you had been brought back and taken elsewhere, so I followed this clearer trail. It was easy enough, and I came upon the gathering from high up in the amphitheatre where I saw what was to happen. I was almost discovered by a creature coming late, but, forgive me; I used your blade My Lady and slew him. I took his robe and when the time seemed right I came to you.’ And with that Orcxyl took another bite of bread and drink of ale and said no more.
They were all amazed at the simplicity with which he spoke, knowing just what importance his faithfulness and his skill had meant to them all.
‘You saved us Orcxyl,’ Sylvion said humbly, ‘and we all are in your debt.’ Orcxyl then looked puzzled as if no further words were needed on the matter.
‘It was not hard My Lady, and I have given my word to you. I will serve you till the evil which took my Freya is defeated.’
‘Well done Orcxyl,’ Reigin said and Rema too gave his thanks, but Gravyn sat without a word and Sylvion wondered if he felt any shame for the harsh judgment he had given on the man the day before, but she could not tell, his face was a mask. They talked for a time and Sylvion and Reigin explained now to Orcxyl and Gravyn their belief that Andes was dead. This news once more brought a sombre mood to the group and an air of unreality for the words did not seem enough to make it true. They discussed the evil sorcery from which they had just escaped and the amazing ruined city, but in the end Sylvion brought them back to their immediate future. As the fire roared and filled them all with a deep and welcome warmth, she spoke of what was to come.
‘My daughter Rayven lives,’ she said quietly looking into the flames. ‘At least it seems that this is true, but she faces the same fate as Lars, and in a place we do not know, but from what Lars said it must be at the heart of what has been happening to Revelyn for many seasons now.’ She looked then at each in turn. ‘We could return to Ramos and fight what evil stands against us there. In truth we might turn things about now that we know Gryfnor to be some evil agent in that place and throughout the land, but...’ and she paused with all hanging upon her words.
‘... I cannot.’ She spoke with the firm assurance of one who had made up their mind. ‘I must do what I can to save Rayven, and if in this Svalbard there exists the source for all the evil which afflicts us, then that is where we must go.’ She looked at them again. ‘I need you all.’ This last was said without the least sense of request but rather came clearly as a command and one which they each knew came from the Queen of all the land and who had just shown by her hand upon the Shadow Blade that she had the right to give it. Reigin stood and kicked a log back into the fire.
‘We will be by your side My Lady,’ he said in quiet agreement. ‘We have work to do, and so let it be.’ And the others too nodded and gave their word once more that it should be done.
‘I thank you my friends,’ Sylvion replied in a more gentle tone. ‘I grieve that I did not listen to Rayven with more attentiveness when she spoke of many things to do with evil in the land. She has proved right thus far, that Gryfnor is evil and the sinking of the land and the human sacrifice are linked. Whether this is truth or not is yet to be revealed but surely we have just witnessed some in these parts who believe with all their hearts that one Lord Ungarit demands such things to preserve the land and keep it from sinking into the sea.’
‘Did the Wisden ever speak of such a one?’ Rema asked suddenly, ‘...of this Ungarit?’
It was a question which seemed to jolt Sylvion for she looked suddenly into the fire and did not speak for a time.
‘Yes,’ she said at last in but a whisper. ‘Rayven told me that this one was mentioned, but I did not show any interest, for it was but a new name and one unknown. I was too preoccupied I think, with matters in Ramos...in the land.’ She picked up a stick and threw it fiercely into the fire. ‘It was at the heart of my disagreement with Rayven. She said that a deeper evil existed and that I should seek it out, not turn my back upon it. She argued hard that Gryfnor was a part of it. She said my Shadow Blade should be wielded against this Ungarit and that I needed to leave Ramos and seek him out.’ Sylvion stood then and paced with some agitation as she spoke further, not looking at any but allowing her thoughts to align with what she had known, but not accepted. ‘I forgot that Rayven was part Wisden in gift. She tried to convince me, but I looked upon her as a daughter, not as one who had a deeper sight. We disagreed, but she would not let it be and in the end I forbade her to raise it with me further.’ Sylvion thumped her sides angrily with clenched fists. ‘I have been blind, but now I see something further. Rayven left Ramos to have me follow; surely this is true. I am the bearer of the Shadow Blade. It cannot be left to sit idle whilst evil builds. Rayven needed me to follow.’ Sylvion repeated this to herself again as this new revelation seemed to dawn upon her. ‘And it has cost lives, and now poor Lars who rode with her has been caught up in this... which perhaps I could have prevented had I only been willing to open my ears and see!’
Those listening were quite taken back by Sylvion’s words; that she knew deeper things which she had not revealed, and that now perhaps Rayven had a plan beyond merely seeking out the remnant of the Ravelin in the ruins of a lost city. Rema went to speak but he had no chance.
‘Which way to Svalbard?’ Sylvion demanded suddenly, her eyes wild and her thoughts far off. ‘We must leave now. It is in Svalbard that we defeat this Ungarit or whatever evil he has visited upon this land. Which way to Svalbard?’ she turned to Orcxyl and asked again. ‘Show me Great Hunter. Which path before us leads to Svalbard?’
Th
e request seemed wild and without any possible answer, but Sylvion ordered them all out into the sun and to the splitting of the paths by the ruin in which they had rested.
‘I need you to track my daughter Orcxyl. This is why I brought you along, and though you have proved yourself to us as most worthy, and a true companion... and friend, now I need your deepest skill.’ She pointed to the three divisions in the way before them. Which road Orcxyl? I need to know.’
‘Sylvion you cannot expect anyone, not even Orcxyl, to know which road.’ Reigin interrupted her in a voice which revealed he had sudden misgivings about the manner in which things were now unfolding, but Sylvion ignored him.
‘Orcxyl come here, and do my bidding.’ Sylvion’s voice carried the full command of the White Queen, the bearer of the Shadow Blade, and they all were suddenly reminded of her deadly action not long before. ‘Come!’ she repeated and Orcxyl obeyed without further hesitation, and went and stood before her. ‘I know I ask much Orcxyl and we are all in your debt, but three roads lead from here. We travel in a far land now, where sorcery is strong and time is short. The summer solstice approaches and with it great evil. Three roads Orcxyl, which one did my daughter take?’ She looked hard at the Great Hunter and in her eye he saw a mighty resolve. He took a breath.
‘I need some scent My Lady,’ he replied. ‘I cannot track without some mark upon the ground and this comes from scent. Have you anything which might bear Rayven’s scent?’ The two stood looking from a moment and then Sylvion seemed to sag a little.
‘No,’ she replied hollowly. ‘I have nothing.’
‘Then this looks to be too great a puzzle My Lady,’ Reigin said hoping to relieve the great tension which seemed to hang in the air. ‘Perhaps we can think upon it, there are only three roads. Which one would seem most travelled?’ But Sylvion persisted.
