by Tim Flanagan
‘They are too heavily guarded and our slings would not fire large enough boulders to sink them I’m afraid,’ replied the black soldier.
‘Could we not create a dam higher up the Redwash?' suggested Ralphina who noticed the brief look of disgust that flashed in the eyes of Wolfram as he glanced at Ralphina disapproving of a woman making suggestions on matters of war. She turned her eyes away from the black Caniard and addressed her father. ‘Without the water, their progress would be made all the more difficult and we could release the water to wash away some of the armies as they approach.’
Ulfric nodded. ‘Take your men and block the Redwash. Listen for the screaming arrow as a sign to release the dam at the appropriate time.’ Ralphina had heard of screaming arrows before: the piercing sound was created by a series of holes around the arrow tip and used as a way to signal to others over a long distance. Wolfram bowed his head and walked out of the hall with his scarred black wolf slinking across the floor, low like a cat hunting its prey. Ralphina had never known a wolf so closed and suspicious as this man’s. Despite her father’s trust in his blood cousins from the north, she was less than convinced that Wolfram would fight in the battle as if it were truly his own.
‘The Green Huntsmen are gathering their forces deep within the forest and have agreed to stand alongside us but won’t be here for at least another day, My lord,’ continued Lyall. The Green Huntsmen lived within the forest high in the canopy of the trees far above the Caniards and moved on thin rope paths and wooden bridges between the trees. They relied on the forest for their survival as much as the Caniards did and had responded positively to King Ulfric’s messengers to their leader asking for assistance in the oncoming fight.
‘The orcs will move swiftly as will the donestres and will be with us before the Huntsmen arrive,’ said the thin robed figure of the king’s minister. He was the only member of the Caniards that did not have a wolf companion as it was believed that his connection was with the Gods instead. They would need the luck of the Gods if they were to survive this attack.
King Ulfric stood and addressed the gathering of people inside the Golden Hall. ‘We are vastly outnumbered, many of our people are still sick or weak from our depleted harvest, but we have the cunning of the wolf and the protection of the forest on our side. Until we have reinforcements, send a line of cloaked swordsmen into the forest to meet the orcs and slaughter them as they walk. Make fires either side of the approaching enemy and restrict their advance to the river. We will then give the signal for the dam to be broken to cleanse the forest of the queen's army. Restrict their advance to the east side only of the Golden Hall where they will be met by the ferocity of three rows of our best archers. If that does not make the battle fairer, we will resort to hand to hand combat on the ground of our forefathers.’
Ralphina remembered hearing the passion in her father’s voice designed to encourage confidence in his people and drive out the fear and doubt that they all felt, but she could also see the worry in his eyes, betraying his own fear. She knew him better than anyone else.
The following day the first team of soldiers that were sent out was destroyed by the larger than predicted numbers of orcs and donestre. The hyenas could smell the approaching wolves and so the element of surprise had not worked. The screaming arrow was shot desperately into the sky in the direction of the north, but no torrent of water cascaded down the Redwash and into the approaching army. Wolfram had fled with his people and abandoned his cousins to their own fate.
That evening she heard the first silent whistle of a boulder as it flew from a Trebuchet and cut through the air, followed by the deafening boom as it collided with the stone wall of the Golden Hall. She found her father as he leapt up a staircase on his way to the main hall.
‘Ralphina, the battle has arrived at our door, but this is just the start of a much greater fight,’ he took her hands gently in his own and held them against his chest. ‘The gift of a Caniard to see into the future is an honoured and magical one and as you know no one possess that foresight greater than myself and your sister. I have seen a human traveller with ancient strength and wisdom to rival the throne of the faerie queen and bring peace to our world. Whatever happens tonight, you must take yourself into the forest and disappear. Await his arrival and the Caniards will rise once again.’ Ulfric lifted a necklace out from beneath his leather overalls and placed it into her hands. ‘When all appears dark, this will give you the power to move in the right direction.’ He gently kissed the forehead of his daughter and continued up the staircase. Ralphina remained standing where she was and opened the palm of her hand. Shining brightly was the Light of Angelist, the payment she had given to Bothelgrit for passage across the water.
Within hours the hall was nothing more than a pile of rubble. Orcs and hyenas flooded over the top to destroy the Caniards and end their growing power. Ralphina fled into the forest and could only watch from afar as the army took as much gold as they could carry back down the hill and across the water to their queen. When she went back to the dusty ruins, she searched desperately for her father. Beneath the rubble of an inner wall she found his body, bloody and cold which she removed and buried within the peace of the forest. Over the coming days she received news of her sister and other Caniards that had survived, but she knew that she had to wait in the forest for the human traveller. By the time Edgar and the children arrived, she had begun to forget what her father had said but now she was beginning to understand the importance of her fellow companions.
Sitting on the rock at the edge of the marshland a tear fell down her cheek and onto her lap. She hadn’t wanted to give the ground dweller the Light of Angelist, it was like giving up the last piece of her father, but if it was the beginning of a path to freedom for the Caniards and many others in the faerie world, then it was a small price to pay.
‘Sir Edgar must be the one my father spoke of,’ she whispered to Raelyn within her head.
Maybe, but how can we be so sure? Raelyn’s thoughts came to her.
‘No one speaks of the ancient times of King Arthur or carries one of the twelve swords of power without being of ancient wisdom and strength.’
What about the small people?
‘There is wisdom in the girl and strength in the boy,’
I have felt it too.
‘For them to arrive at the time of the Council of War is also surely a sign.’
What about the other small person they talk of, the one they came to find?
‘We can do nothing to save him until the queen is overthrown. All we can do is get them safely to the Council of War and let events unfold for themselves.’
At the moment they all need rest. Given time, the boy will come through his fever.
They walked once more along the tree line this time looking at the plants that covered the ground. Ralphina occasionally knelt down to examine a plant more closely until she found the one she was looking for. She plucked a handful of green leaves and took them back to the cave.
11. Morgan's Landing
The rocking weightless feeling of the raft on the surface of the water made Max's head heavy and his eyelids a dead weight. He found himself staring up at the sun as it began to overpower the night sky and announce the dawn of a new day. The sound of the water lapping against the edge of the raft seemed peaceful and calming and reminded him of the shallow paddling pool he used to dip his feet into during a hot summers day in the back garden at home. Max wanted to hold onto that memory and feeling for as long as possible even though the stinging twine around his wrists reminded him where he actually was. He closed his eyes. The light from the sun shone pink and orange through his eyelids and he stumbled back to sleep.
The darkness of sleep didn’t last for long before he jumped to attention and opened his eyes with a start. As he waited to adjust to the brightness of light he immediately noticed that the sound of water had been replaced by a busy mixture of voices talking many different languages all at once. As he looked up
from the raft he could see two of the three rafts were now approaching a small port. Narrow and uneven wooden jetties extended from the stone harbour into the water for boats to tie up to. Some rafts similar to the one he was in where already moored up along one of the jetties, whilst on others, some small fishing boats bobbed harmlessly riding the gentle waves that reached the port.
Max’s eyes were drawn to the furthest jetty which had a much larger and impressive ship anchored by thick ropes tied to posts that protruded from the shallow depths. The side of the boat was made of long beams of wood the colour of a deep red that stretched the full length before tapering upwards sharply at the bow. Along both edges of the hull was a black burnt piece of wood that had delicate patterns carved into it. At the front of the ship it entwined with a similar but thicker piece of carved wood that emerged from beneath the ship in the centre of the wide bow. All three pieces then swept upwards high out of the water to form a carved head of a fire serpent as if it was drawing back ready to strike its prey. Tied to the wooden frame and the central mast were a series of burgundy triangular sails all overlapping each other and all bearing the black symbol of a fire serpent. On the jetty alongside this elegant boat stood an equally elegant looking man wearing black carved leather clothing, his hair pulled back and hanging in a tail down his back to tuck into the lower curve of his spine. His face was narrow with wide eyes, dark skin and a thin straight nose but the most unusual feature that Max noticed were his pointed ears. Across his back was a leather pouch containing an elegant bow and a clutch of arrows, whilst from his belt hung a small curved sword. He appeared to be having an argument with the Harbour Master indicating something out in the sea but Max couldn’t hear what was being said above the chaos of the port. Max lifted his head more and followed the direction that the thin black-clothed man was pointing. In the sea at least five more identical boats were anchored facing the port waiting to come ashore, their sea serpent heads menacingly facing the land. Max realised that their cargo was not likely to be food or clothing for sale, but troops of soldiers waiting to fight for the faerie queen.
The donestre rafts drifted into a space beside some of the other boats and Max was lifted onto the jetty. The donestre leader said something in their own language to the others then moved down the jetty and into the crowd of people around the market port. A dwarf that was as wide as he was short was walking along the wooden jetty towards them; his braided hair hung down alongside his expensive blue and gold clothing, both of which dragged along the floor behind him. His hands seemed to be hidden within the deep sleeves of his gown but as he brought one hand out he held a rolled up piece of yellow paper and checked the donestre off it. Max realised that all movement onto the queen’s land was being closely monitored. The dwarf looked up at the tall donestre then examined Max with his marble like eyes peering out from beneath his thick hairy eyebrows.
‘What are you?' asked the dwarf in a deep throaty voice.
‘I’m a human from the other world,’ said Max. He had been thinking about what he should do whilst he was on the raft. Considering that he hadn’t been eaten yet he assumed that he was to be kept alive and used for some purpose. Max had realised that he had something to trade with the queen for his life: information. All the time he had information that the queen was interested in, he would be safe. If Max could speak to the queen, maybe he could also make contact with Peter and find his way back home.
‘The other world you say?’ the dwarf said, suddenly interested in Max. ‘It’s been a long time since we’ve seen anyone from the other world and then we get two small people arriving within days of each other.’ He paused carefully looking at Max, ‘Not a coincidence, I would say.’
‘I demand to see the queen,’ Max said confidently to the dwarf who grunted disapprovingly to the donestre. After some thought the dwarf bowed in a mocking way and took a step backward. A small thick fingered hand came out from within the folds of the cloak beckoned him past as if he were Max's humble servant. Before Max had chance to move forward he was pushed in the back by the donestre causing him to stumble along the jetty to the sound of the dwarf’s cruel sniggering behind him.
‘But the queen will want to speak to me,’ Max said looking over his shoulder to the dwarf.
‘Don’t worry, your highness, you will get the chance to speak to her,’ spat the dwarf with a false laugh.
At the end of the jetty the market port was alive with tented stalls and wooden structures; some cranes lifted boxes of goods from ships whilst another hung a net over the sea draining water from a fisherman’s catch. Goats and dogs roamed freely amongst the different types of people that filled the maze between the stalls, everyone fighting for space, all trying to move forward at the same time. Each stall trader announced their goods in a loud voice to compete with his neighbour until nobody could actually tell what anyone was saying. Max noticed a fruit stall with woven baskets piled high, each of them holding a different coloured fruit - shiny and fresh and in varieties that Max had never seen before. In another a tall elf, similar to the one Max had spotted next to the fire serpent ship was watching him suspiciously from behind a table lined with small ceramic bowls, each filled with exotic coloured powders. Another had meat hanging by hooks from the wooden frame and it reminded Max how hungry he actually was. He then saw a large ugly orc dressed expensively in furs watching him with a twisted sneer on his face. Beside him three small children were standing each joined to the other by a metal chain that was clamped around their necks by a thick iron choker. Their dirty skin was naked except for a small leather cloth they wore across their middle. Max noticed some of the children had thin lines of blood across their backs and legs, marks left by a cruel whip that taught them obedience. Max could feel the children’s eyes watching him as he was pushed through the throng of people, pleading for him to help them, or maybe pitying him, knowing what his fate would be. One of the children shouted something to Max that he couldn’t hear over the noise but the boy was quickly silenced by the back of the orc’s hand as it smacked him across his cheek, knocking him to the ground.
The slave child stall was quickly hidden by many different types of people all there to either buy or sell. There were people dressed in furs and skins, others with tall hats and short hats, people with black skin and others with ghostly white skin. Some people were arguing about money, some stuffing their faces greedily with food, but all looked suspiciously at Max as the towering figure of the donestre pushed him forward through the crowd. Everyone seemed to stare with a certain amount of fear at the donestre who didn’t need to tell people to get out of his way; just a snarl from his lion-like mouth was enough for them to notice before backing away from his confident and aggressive figure and shrinking into the shadows hoping that they had not displeased the queen.
Eventually the sound of the market port faded as the donestre led Max around the back of the port where the stalls were replaced by stone buildings, crammed together with very little space between them. He was taken up an alleyway that was deserted and Max began to feel afraid - afraid that he was going to be eaten by this creature or that he was going to end up on the orc’s stall with the other children, sold like a piece of meat to the highest bidder. At the end of the alleyway the donestre roughly pushed Max through a doorway into a room that had steel barred cages constructed along one side. It was cold inside with very little light except for the small amount that came through a square window high above the doorway. On the floor was straw, some of which seemed to have red and black splashes on and occasionally Max noticed a dark stain on the stone floor that had not been successfully washed off.
Max was forcefully turned around to face his captor who pulled a small dagger out from within the leather belt that crossed over his chest. At that point, realising that he was about to die, Max began to think of his family and wished that he hadn’t left them to follow Joe and Edgar on an adventure he had never really wanted to start. As the donestre pulled Max's hands nearer to him, he closed his
eyes not wanting to watch his own death. A salty tear welled up behind his eyelid and forced itself out to fall across his cheek. Then he felt a warm throbbing sensation in his fingers as his blood began to pump back into his hands through the arteries that had been constricted by the twine binds. Confused, Max cautiously opened his eyes and saw that the donestre had cut the bonds from his wrists. Once again he was lifted to his feet and pushed into one of the steel cages. He fell with a sigh of relief onto the straw covered floor as the cage door was swung closed and the metal bolt slid into the frame with a loud clang. For now Max was alive but he was still uncertain what his fate held. He lay back on the straw and rubbed at his wrists, tracing the grooves left by the twine that had bitten into his flesh.
12. Pendreich's Bane
‘What’s that?' Edgar asked Ralphina as she handed him a clump of green leaves she had collected.
‘It’s a herb called milfoil,’ she replied. ‘It may look like a simple plant but it has great powers of healing.’ She held a green stem in her hands with small yellow flowers. Plucking the flowers with her fingertips she pulled the seeds out and collected them in the palm of her hand then cast them into a small fire that burned on the stone floor. As soon as the seeds landed in the hot flames they burnt and released a sweet smelling yellow smoke into the cave.
They inhaled large lungs full of the scented air and instantly felt relaxed and carefree. It was like they were floating above their own bodies and bathed in a warm comforting liquid. Edgar opened his eyes to see Ralphina leaving the cave once again.
