Child Of A Guardian And Of The Free (Book 3)

by Dan O'Sullivan

  ‘I didn’t hold Kelian’s thoughts for very long when he called out to me, so I don’t know a lot,’ said Callian. ‘And I don’t think he’s conscious any longer. Do we have any sort of plan if we get to Emerald before they do?’

  ‘I’m working on it,’ said Dale vaguely. ‘We’re not far from Muraban. Last time I was near Muraban-’ He gave a start as a strange but familiar sensation rushed through his heart. He spun around to Eibhear who was staring at him with a look of disbelief.

  ‘I can’t believe it!’ cried Eibhear. ‘Dale, I...’ He shook his head as if to clear it and then tilted it sideways, listening intently.

  Dale was frozen, but poised as if to run. He had first experienced this sensation in Weema, and then several times since, both in Nyinaku and in Alkira. Both Callian and Eibhear had previously confirmed that the woman who was reaching out to his heart was of the fallen. For Dale, the feeling was like a soft feather brushing across his heart caressing his emotions and his soul. Nothing had ever drawn from him such an intense feeling of belonging, and on the occasions Eibhear and Callian had forced his heart to be hidden and the feelings had disappeared, the strange associated grief had been intensely painful.

  ‘She’s definitely the same woman,’ Eibhear confirmed.

  ‘I know,’ said Dale. ‘How do I know that?’ he wondered aloud.

  Eibhear shrugged. ‘It’s... powerful. Her feelings towards you are quite incredible really.’

  ‘But she can’t have been waiting here in Alkira all that time. Surely she hasn’t.’

  ‘But I think she has,’ Eibhear contradicted. ‘I think that’s exactly what she’s been doing. After all, why shouldn’t she?’

  ‘But I’ve been gone for so long!’ Dale shrugged and raised hands.

  ‘Not for my people,’ said Eibhear. ‘Time doesn’t mean as much to us.’

  ‘What should I do?’ Dale imagined himself rushing through the forest looking for her.

  ‘You should concentrate on finding Kelian and getting him back to Alkira,’ said Eibhear firmly, knowing this would keep Dale’s mind on their task.

  ‘Eibhear?’

  ‘Mm?’

  ‘Does it matter if she can...?’

  ‘…get into your mind?’ Eibhear finished.

  Dale nodded.

  ‘It matters, but only if she manages to lead you away from us. Humans don’t generally survive a relationship with the fallen. Don’t be deceived.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Dale glumly and he sighed heavily as the beautiful sensation disappeared. He knew Eibhear was once again shielding his heart, and though he didn’t resent the warrior for this, he wished it did not have to be the case.

  Dale was exhausted by the time they neared what little remained of Emerald. They had abandoned the horses at Muraban and Dale had alternated between short bursts of jogging alongside the warriors and long periods of being carried on Milgorry’s or Eibhear’s back. His arms ached and every muscle in his body felt strained. Callian had no further success in reaching Kelian’s mind, and though Dale felt he was in all probability still alive but being kept unconscious, worry was ever present. Every day Dale became increasingly focused. He had come up with a good plan for how they might rescue Kelian, which he felt had a fair chance of success and as they drew near to the ruined city he felt more and more confident. He went over and over his plan in his head, knowing that each of the guardians and warriors would be listening to his thoughts, and though none of them made any comment he would on occasion experience feelings of optimism and encouragement emanating from one or another. As they neared Emerald they left the forest and made their way up the road. Dale was now finding it difficult to remain calm. He glanced ahead and behind repeatedly, as if expecting to be overtaken by the fallen at any second. A startled wren flitted past his ear, and he flinched like he’d been narrowly missed by an arrow.

  ‘Can anyone see anything unusual up ahead?’ Dale was trotting along beside Rudiger and gaining pace as they neared the remains of Emerald.

  ‘Uh oh,’ said Milgorry softly. The warrior sprinted forward. Dale could only watch with escalating trepidation as he disappeared around the curve in the road. He returned fifteen minutes later wearing an expression of disgruntlement.

  ‘They’ve already passed Emerald,’ he stated bluntly, ‘and a lot more than a few hours ago. I think you can kiss your nice little strategy goodbye, Dale. You are going to have to start planning again.’

  Frustration, anger and failure overcame Dale. He let forth a bellow of rage and broke into a torrent of curses. With a vicious wrench, he tore off his bow and his quiver of arrows, flung them to the ground and kicked them hard. The quiver shot forward, scattering arrows as it tumbled. He swung his boot again, sending a spray of pebbles into the air. After another growl of fury, he clamped his teeth together and drew a few deep breaths. He turned and glared at each of the guardians and warriors in turn, knowing that without him they could have easily outpaced the fallen. Everyone stood looking at him guardedly, never having seen him lose his temper quite so fully. He stood in the middle of the road with his fists clenched, and then he walked off to the side and sat down on the grass. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes. After an enduring silence he spoke.

  ‘I’m going to need a horse.’ Eibhear turned to leave. ‘Not Eibhear!’ said Dale forcefully. Eibhear turned back and eyed Dale curiously. ‘Wait a moment. I need to think.’ He lapsed into silence once again until Eibhear cleared his throat. Dale gave the warrior an impatient glare before continuing.

  ‘We’re changing our plan entirely. From here it’s going to take us at least nine days to reach the Ice Coast, and that’s if we have horses and can cover enough ground each day, and we’ll need food for ourselves and food for the horses. And we need a lot more gear if we’re going to cross the Ice, at least I do. There are farms near Emerald Lake and farmers who will probably be willing to help us. Some of them might remember me. I want enough horses to get us to the Ice Coast. And I want a cart. We will only use it until we reach the ice coast, if the terrain allows, and we can stay on the roads where possible. A cart will slow you all down, but it will speed me up significantly. I can sleep in it and it can carry some food, water, blankets - you might not need them, but I’ll freeze on the ice regardless of the season. And I want to take some wood. We’ll have to be careful if we need to make a fire, but I daresay you will be able to find isolated hiding places where it won’t be seen.’

  ‘There’s no way we can overtake them if we’re dragging a cart,’ said Rezon.

  ‘We’re not going to overtake them,’ Dale replied. He raised his hand before anyone could object. ‘Not unless you leave me here.’

  ‘No.’ Callian folded his arms. ‘We’ve made that mistake before.’

  ‘How so?’ asked Ben.

  ‘You might not have noticed, but whenever a bunch of guardians have any sort of conflict with the fallen, whichever side has a strategy formulated by humans has a distinct advantage in the ensuing fiasco. I don’t intend to lose that advantage.’

  ‘We’ve lost too much already,’ agreed Ben. ‘How in all hell did they manage to make it through Emerald before us?’

  ‘They must be moving a lot faster than any of us expected. I don’t think they’ve stopped at all,’ said Callian, his forehead furrowed in frustration. ‘We’d be lucky now if we even catch up before we reach the Ice Coast.’

  Dale considered his words. ‘So, we no longer work on overtaking them before they leave Alkira. We stalk them all the way back to Nyinaku. Eventually they have to stop somewhere. When they do, we take Kelian and leave.’

  ‘It’s as simple as that?’ Callian’s face was somewhere between incredulity and alarm. He gathered up Dale’s scattered arrows and placed them in the quiver before handing it to Dale along with his bow.

  Dale’s face reddened. ‘Thank you Callian.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I wish we could go a less obvious way than across the Ic
e Coast. But we don’t have a lot of choice from here.’

  ‘True. Let’s get some gear,’ said Eibhear holding out his hand and dragging Dale to his feet. As they walked west, Eibhear and Dale gradually fell back until they were a hundred paces behind everyone else.

  ‘You wanted to say something to me back there,’ said Eibhear.

  ‘I just didn’t want you wandering around by yourself. You might get yourself returned.’

  ‘Are you joking Dale?’

  ‘No.’ Dale didn’t look Eibhear in the eye.

  ‘You’re going to have to explain what you’re thinking. Callian has your thoughts entirely hidden.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I’ve lost a lot of people in my short life, Eibhear. Some I’d known for what felt like a very long time and many I loved so deeply it pains my heart to think of them. And I don’t want to lose the best friend I’ve ever had.’

  ‘We’ll do everything in our power to bring him back.’

  ‘Thank you. I appreciate that because Kelian is one of my best friends. But I wasn’t talking about him.’

  Eibhear stopped walking and his face was more serious than Dale had ever seen. ‘Strange isn’t it? If someone had told me a year ago that a human would become like a brother to me I’d have laughed in their face. And yet here we are.’

  ‘Just don’t get yourself returned. I’m completely fed up with losing people I love. When Charie went I didn’t want to...’ Dale blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard. ‘Anyway, don’t get yourself returned,’ he repeated. ‘It would be damned inconvenient for everyone!’ Dale spoke gruffly as he ran his hand across his eyes.

  Eibhear slapped Dale on the shoulder. ‘I won’t get returned and I won’t let you get killed either Dale. I’d also find that very...inconvenient. Let’s catch up to the others.’

  Dale found a friend at the very first farm they visited. They crossed a huge field of neglected sunflowers, taking care to do as little damage as possible, then climbed over a fence and made their way past a herd of rather undernourished sheep. There was a gate at the far end of the field and a worn track leading to an old, partly dilapidated barn. The track forked part way along and lead away to a small home perched on a rise. It was built of stone and was very old, with weather stained window shutters and a rag covering a huge hole which had been smashed in the front door. The small yard around the house was entirely unkempt. Tall weeds were growing out of control, vegetable gardens were disappearing under aggressively invasive grass, flowering plants alongside the home were dry and thirsty and part of the yard fence had fallen or been pushed over. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. On a hard old chair right next to the broken front door sat a man not much older than Dale. As they approached, a wineskin fell from his hand and he looked up at them with bleary eyes.

  ‘Ave y’ come back to kill me as well, y’ murderin’ bastards?’ he asked in a rasping whisper. ‘I thought y’ might.’

  ‘Leslie?’ Dale couldn’t believe his eyes. This had been Leslie’s parents’ farm when Dale had first arrived in Emerald. Leslie was their youngest son. The other children had married or moved away but Leslie remained on the farm after his parents died. Not long before the attack on Emerald he’d married a girl called Salia, who lived on a neighboring property and Dale was sure she’d been carrying his child even before they wed. They were a hardworking and honest pair. Leslie ran the farm as well as his father had, and Salia kept a neat and happy home. Now Leslie looked as far from happy as Dale could imagine. He reached over and pushed his head back and Leslie blinked at him a few times before falling sideways from the chair.

  ‘Let’s get him inside,’ said Dale, kicking at the partly broken door as he grabbed Leslie by the hands. The door rejected his effort so he kicked it a bit harder and the remaining portion disintegrated and fell into the house. Dale’s jaw dropped. There was so much mess inside the house there was no way he was going to step inside, let alone take Leslie in there, and even had he managed, the stench would have driven him outside very quickly. Instead, he dragged Leslie away from the door and left him lying on the edge of the little patio.

  ‘Supreme Majesty,’ Dale whispered. ‘What in all hell happened here?’ Not one piece of furniture inside the home was intact. Even the big old wooden bed which stood in the corner of the one-roomed house was bent in the middle as though it’s back had been broken. The bedding was torn and dirty and straw was spilling from the mattress and pillows. A small stool which had stood beside the bed lay on the floor with all three legs broken and the items it had held were scattered across the floor. Parts of broken chairs and table were flung around the room, amongst piles of smashed crockery, broken wooden bowls, cooking utensils, old aprons, clothing that had once been washed and folded before being ground into the debris, old hats, worn out shoes, and more than a few wooden toys. Dale picked his way through the wreckage. He lifted a holey, woolen blanket and pain seized his heart and began to squeeze. Under the blanket was a tiny silver bell attached to a thin cord of leather, a gift for a newborn child. When Dale peered more closely he could see that the leather cord was three fine strips of slightly different colors which had been plaited together. It was beautifully made. He turned the bell around and read the name engraved on it. Elysia. His fist closed tightly around it. He looked at the debris desperately, terrified of what he might find considering the terrible smell, but his terror was unfounded. The smell was coming from some pieces of old mutton, left to rot amongst the rubble. He took the necklace outside and showed it to Callian, and then he knelt beside Leslie and gave him a sharp slap on the face. Leslie didn’t move.

  ‘Callian, I don’t know if you can do this but can you sober him up enough to find out what happened here?’

  ‘Probably not,’ said Callian. ‘But I can try.’

  ‘There’s water in that feeding trough,’ said Milgorry, pointing across the yard.

  Leslie was a small, thin man and Callian picked him up as easily as he would a child, carried him across the yard and dunked him headfirst in the trough of dirty, cold water. Leslie came up spluttering and groaning. Callian dropped him to the ground and placed his hand firmly on Leslie’s forehead. After a few seconds he seemed to gain control of himself. He slapped Callian’s hand away and rolled over, dragging his knees under himself. He stood up and as he did so, his eyes fell on his smashed front door and the piles of debris inside. An expression of pure anguish came over him and his shoulders sagged forward. He stared at Callian for a few seconds then his eyes moved to Milgorry. With a scream of fury he hurled himself at the warrior. Milgorry stepped aside expressionlessly and caught Leslie by the arm. He twisted it behind Leslie’s back and drove the man to his knees, ignoring his strangled screams and curses.

  ‘I didn’t do this,’ Milgorry growled in his ear.

  ‘We can’t help you unless you tell us what happened here,’ said Dale. ‘Where’s Salia and Elysia?’

  ‘The bastards took ‘em away! Murderers!’

  ‘The fallen? When?’

  ‘Ahh Dale, I should’ve done as y’ said. I should’ve let ‘em go to the Dwellings, but I thought we’d be safe enough down ‘ere. An’ now they’re gone!’ Milgorry let go of his arm and he sagged forward miserably.

  ‘So this happened when they attacked Emerald?’

  ‘No. It was after that. I was down checkin’ the sunflowers and then Salia was screamin’ an-’ He gave a huge shudder. ‘There’s only one thing that can make a woman scream like that. By the time I got back to the house, Salia and Elysia were gone and the house was - well y’ saw it. I tried to find ‘em. I went everywhere tryin’ to find tracks or someone who might’ve seen ‘em, but it was like they just disappeared into the ground.’

  ‘Leslie, they’ve taken Kelian, his Majesty the King,’ said Dale, and Leslie’s eyes opened in wonder. ‘We have to track them to Nyinaku and bring him home, but we haven’t got any gear or any food. And we need a cart. We were going to a
sk you for help but-’

  Leslie stood up and took a couple of deep breaths. ‘Come ‘ere,’ he said, walking around the side of the house. At the back of the yard there was a large stone building. The building had a set of huge wooden doors at the front and a smaller one at the side, and two tiny windows. Leslie pushed his head through one of the windows then wriggled his shoulders through. He squirmed forward until his body disappeared. Seconds later the huge doors opened and Leslie gestured them inside. It was very dark after standing in the glaring sunshine. Dale waited for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A neat cart stood in the center of the floor. Against the wall from floor to roof were wide shelves, bending under the weight of the goods they held. There was everything Dale could imagine on the shelves. Preserved and dried food, wooden boxes containing blankets, unused lamps, cloths sacks of clothing which had been washed in a solution of camphor oil to deter moths, a neat row of old boots, a basket of knitted gloves and scarves also smelling strongly of camphor, lengths of rope, old washing boards, sacks of grain, drums of flour and oats and clay jars of honey, new straw brooms and brushes, and to everyone’s amazement a small jewelry box holding a couple of strings of glass beads, two silver rings, one thin gold ring and one delicately fashioned brooch.

  Callian looked knowingly at Leslie. ‘It seems you weren’t as confident of your safety as you would have us believe.’

  ‘I moved a lot of stuff in here after the attack on Emerald.’ Lesley bore an expression of desperation. ‘Part of me wondered if this might ‘appen, but I didn’t want to believe it could. I thought if they came, I could fight ’em off. Now Salia’s dead and little Elysia,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, ‘and it’s my fault.’

  ‘It’s not your fault the fallen attacked your family,’ Callian contradicted. ‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have gotten your family into this building. I see the windows would be far too small for any of the fallen to climb through, and those doors would defeat anyone.’