by Chris Ward
He was announced by the guards and entered. He handed his sealed pouch to the Commander who nodded in acknowledgment but did not speak. Lord Petros and Zelfos were both present. He did not look in their direction but waited to one side for further instructions.
Leander opened the pouch and read the note hastily scrawled on a crumpled parchment.
‘What does it say Commander?’ Lord Petros demanded. Zelfos said nothing.
‘This is two, three days old,’ Leander replied. ‘The archer has been seen. He has been tracked from Waterman to the west, through the Plenty Mountains and was lost under the cliffs of the Eastern Upthrust. He was travelling with a party of four or five. The Tall one was with them.’
‘The Tall one?’ Zelfos snapped, ‘Who is this?’
‘It’s what we called the Wolver who has betrayed us.’ Leander continued seriously, ‘He has made contact with the archer Bowman.’ Petros and Zelfos swore.
‘Nothing more Commander?’ Petros inquired.
‘Nothing Lord Petros.’ Leander handed the communication to his King. ‘This news was sent by carriave to Ramos from Waterman. This couriias has ridden two days and nights to reach us. He turned to the rider, and returned the empty pouch. ‘Thank you soldier, you are dismissed. Get refreshed, we may have need of you in the morning.’ He spoke calmly to the man who saluted, and with a sense of relief went to eat and sleep, and perhaps enjoy the camp; for it was large, ten thousand strong he had been told. There were always many followers who travelled with the soldiers, most likely many women, and there would be good food and ale. Before a battle, life in camp was one of great indulgence if the officers were willing to turn a blind eye.
Why not enjoy myself a little, he thought, I’ve ridden two days straight, and Ramos never offers me such pleasures.
He pushed aside a sudden thought of his grumpy wife to a place where it no longer troubled him, a skill he had developed well in recent times, and disappeared into the throng of camp life which was indeed a small town in all but name.
‘This news is not encouraging Commander,’ Zelfos hissed for he was sorely troubled by this new development. ‘How is it that the Wolver has joined force with the archer Bowman. They had no way to find each other. He was with the woman. Perhaps they are now all together.’
‘No they are not.’ Commander Leander interrupted. ‘I received word this midnoon that she has returned to Wildwood. The small garrison there was overthrown by an unknown force and they fled. She was alone, although a force of about three score armed riders has since joined her there.’
‘That is no army which we might fear.’ The King spoke contemptuously.
‘No it isn’t, but can you not see that this new information had introduced the possibility of something far more deadly?’ Zelfos snapped. Both the Commander and his King looked at Zelfos blankly, who gave a frustrated toss of his bald head.
‘Where did they disappear, this Bowman and his company?’
‘By the cliffs of the Eastern Upthrust.’ Commander Leander replied without any understanding of what Zelfos was alluding to.
‘The upthrust, who lives upon it, who is the mortal enemy of all Revelyn?’
King Petros scoffed. ‘Surely you can’t mean the Edenwhood Zelfos, that is too farfetched an idea. They are not interested in the affairs of the Lowlanders, and have lived apart from us for generations. You cannot seriously think they would join with Bowman and the Wolver against us?’ He looked hard at Zelfos, expecting some confirmation that his words were true, but Zelfos glared back in such a manner that he was greatly unsettled.
‘Come Zelfos,’ he said in a more placating tone, ‘This is not possible surely? They would have no reason?’
‘None that you might understand?’ Zelfos muttered and turned away. The king frowned for he was confused by this. He turned to Leander.
‘Commander, what is your opinion?’
The huge soldier shrugged. ‘I would not have thought it possible, but if by some fate they do fight against us, it will demand brave men to stand and defeat such as these, for who knows what sorcery they might bring to the battle field.’ He turned and paced the tent letting his military calculations fill the air about him.
‘What I do know is this. We have six thousand men now; a thousand on horseback and five hundred archers. Aaroghant has finally arrived with his cohort, well equipped and he has all the silver arrows he can carry; Hafldan has surprised us, his men seem better trained than I thought possible and may well give a good account of themselves. The three thousand of the standing forces are well trained and will not turn and flee. All the Wolvers are with us, not quite four score. We are well provisioned, and can take to the field as we wish; there is no force but a fraction as large in all the land. I still feel we are jumping at shadows. My officers keep asking where this enemy is. I am hard pressed to give an answer which will satisfy them.’
‘Their satisfaction is of little concern commander,’ hissed Zelfos, revealing a level of agitation which the other two had not previously witnessed. ‘All they need to know is that their obedience is demanded, for when the time comes there will be a foe arrayed against them, you tell them that.’
Once more Leander felt annoyed at the manner in which this man kept speaking for his King, and was about to speak his mind but Zelfos smacked a fist into the palm of his right hand with a fearful crack, and continued in a growing anger.
‘You do not understand what stands against us.’ It was not clear whether he spoke to the Commander alone, but the sense seemed that he included both men in his address. The King felt immediately irritated but had no opportunity to reply for Zelfos was not to be stopped. ‘Things do not bode well. When we passed through Sheldon did we not discover that the prophecy of which we have previously spoken has been circulated in that town? Three men on pain of death admitted to some role in this and a scribe openly confessed that he had gone to some lengths to assist them. Is this not true?’
Leander and Lord Petros nodded.
‘If in Sheldon, then where else?’ Zelfos looked at them wide eyed.
At this point Commander Leander finally interrupted. He would not allow these mad ramblings to interfere with his job, and his fear was not with the chanting masses wherever and whatever magic they might conjure, for he had an army encamped and was about to go to war; he had other worries on his mind, not least was the morale of his men who did not need the superstitions of some mad sorcerer putting the fear of the devil into them. To fight against flesh and bone, iron and armour was fearful enough, but Zelfos’ mutterings had begun to unsettle several of his officers. It had to be stopped. He took a deep breath and spoke his mind.
‘Let us stop this talk this moment.’ His boldness took Zelfos by surprise, and a dark anger rose within him.’ Commander Leander held up a hand. ‘No, I will speak. I am the Commander and it is I who will send men to their death. Let me do my job. I cannot deal with the talk of this magic prophecy. It is as though I fight two enemies, one on the battle field and one of evil superstition. Whatever your fears of this prophecy Zelfos, what is done is done. Talk of it will only make it worse. Let us have done with it.’
He stood firm before the other two as though some line had been drawn in the dirt between then. Zelfos burned with a white anger at the man’s arrogance to speak against him, but he knew the words were spoken truly. More talk would only work against them.
‘I have warned you both on this,’ he hissed. ‘I will say no more.’ And with this he swept his cloak about him and disappeared out into the night.
Leander turned to the king. He knew that now was his only chance.
‘I have another matter which needs to be put before you sira.’
Lord Petros had enjoyed seeing Zelfos bested by another and was impressed by his commander’s courage.
‘Speak your mind Commander,’ he said, and took a seat on a large and comfortable couch, glad that Zelfos had left, for the tension in the air had now disappeared.
Command
er Leander glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone and spoke with a lowered voice.
‘He has three of those creatures with him. Who controls these beasts, for no human can get near them; none but he can speak to them? They appear in the shadows, in the darkness, they are not of this world Lord Petros; can you not see that this creature Zelfos has his own plans. Desire, do you not fear what he wills?’
The king frowned. He poured a drink of the best wine from a beautifully polished travelling jug, and offered it to Leander. He politely declined. Lord Petros drank it then, in one motion, before wiping a hand across his dripping lips, and fixing the huge soldier with a sullen glare.
‘I fear many things Commander Leander. Not least that we lose this coming battle. Those creatures may well turn the tide for us if things go badly, for they are fell beasts indeed, and are worth a thousand men perhaps. I need them now. After the battle is won I will see to it that Zelfos has them depart. Now Commander I will rest. I am sure you have other matters to attend to.’
Leander understood then that the King was lost to Zelfos. He nodded and left. The words just uttered were no answer to his question, and they both knew it. He muttered to himself in the night as he went.
‘No enemy to fight, a mad sorcerer rules the king, fell creatures from the darkness appear which none can speak of, and a prophecy which chanted makes magic fall upon us all; and I am expected to go to war with all this.’
He did not sleep well that night and in the morning as the army moved further north over the massive grass Plains of Amrosi and under the growing shadow of the Eastern Upthrust, huge eagle’s could be seen high above them soaring majestically in the clear morning air.
Zelfos saw them and shuddered violently, overcome with a great hatred and loathing, for he alone in that vast army understood what they meant, those eagle’s eyes which watched from above.
*
They had ridden hard since leaving the Western Gate, and bidding farewell to the Edenwhood. The five companions travelled west and north towards Wildwood, for it had been decided that they should first secure the safety of Sylvion Greyfeld, heir to the throne, before any attempt was made to give battle to the King’s forces which crept slowly north across the Plains of Amrosi. Reigin had promised to return to Sylvion by the next new moon, and their stay in Anderlyn since securing an alliance with the Edenwhood had left but a handful of days to make the journey. At first he had suggested that he travel alone, but in the end it was decided that they would all go, for Rema desperately wanted to see Sylvion once more.
The Elders of the Edenwhood had first offered ten score soldiers, mounted and well armed, plus provisions and those to support, but Rema had argued that this was not enough against a force of many thousand. He had then discovered that the Edenwhood did not have a great army for they had no need of one, their mighty cliffs prevented any attack and when clans fell out it took but a small force to restore order. In the end they were promised twelve score and Elder Anderlorn had said this would be enough, especially as he was to lead them.
‘I cannot stay here in safety when my people venture forth to do battle in the lowlands,’ he had said, standing with Rema on the great platform looking out over the vastness of Revelyn. ‘This has not been done since before the Great Separation, this doing battle with other men. I will lead my men, and we will win, for when my sword Anderwyn is unleashed it has never been defeated, but there will be a heavy toll for we Edenwhood are human in the end.’ He had spoken with a great sadness and his equal the Eldres Kreilliorn had wept silently at his words as though she knew a great grief would be upon their people whatever the outcome of the coming days.
It had been agreed that the small army of the Edenwhood would meet with Rema and whatever forces he was able to muster by the ruins of Fellonshead, three leagues north and east of the mysterious mountain called the Vaudim within six days. Anderlorn had given the five companions a caller, a small and intricately carved Orax horn, so named for it gave the one who used it the magical ability to bring one of the eagles from wherever it soared. One horn for each eagle, and the horn which was given called only Estreedian, the one which bore Rhyander who was the son of Rhynos. Such a thing could only be used by the Edenwhood for the magic was given to them alone, and so it was Reigin who was chosen to bear it.
‘The Eagles will watch the enemy by day,’ Anderlorn had stated, ‘they cannot fly at night, but should you need to know their number or in what direction they travel, this small tool will be a great boon. Use it wisely.’
Reigin had accepted the horn with deep emotion for it seemed that this small token was also given as an acceptance that he was one of them; one of the Edenwhood. At last he had a home.
The Western Gate was deeper and wider and more cleverly hewn than the one by which they entered AlGiron, but it opened in a similar manner into a deep and hidden cleft in the base of the massive cliffs where the forest still grew thickly for several leagues down to the plains below. There they had taken leave of AlGiron and using the trees for cover had ridden hard for Wildwood.
Rema found it difficult to concentrate on the travelling for his mind was now well ahead in Wildwood with Sylvion, and for the first time in his relationship with her, he felt an anxiety which he could not resolve no matter how he tried. He knew that she had been through great trials without him, and had done amazing things. Reigin had recounted their fantastic escape from the Vault as they sat on the balcony of the Elder’s Hall two nights before, and he had realised that she had abilities beyond anything he had previously understood. He felt a pang of jealousy in that she had shared with Reigin and not him in that amazing and dangerous adventure. For the first time then he had begun to think upon the implications for their future, for he realised that Sylvion’s claiming of the throne of Revelyn loomed ahead like a crossroad from which only two paths led onward. Either they would die in battle and their life together destroyed before it began, or else she would become the Queen of Revelyn and would live in Ramos, and he had only ever wished to live simply in the Highlands. And with these thoughts and understandings he felt a growing pain in his heart, and no matter how he looked at the future it seemed darker and unknowable. He was troubled further at the edges of his mind, by the knowledge that somewhere in the land he had a brother; one who had loved and cared for him until violent events tore them suddenly apart. It pained Rema that he had no memory of this lost brother who had at last come to look for him and had never returned. Since riding out of Waterman he had formed the unconscious habit of reaching up and touching the small whale bone sword which hung at his neck, as though to remind himself that wherever his brother was there was still something of his family remaining.
He rode now with a grim look upon his face which was not missed by Serenna who travelled at his side.
She had stood alone with Rema on the Great Platform of the Elders, not three days past and in the clear night air had savoured his presence and lost herself in the moment, for it was all she had, but she too feared for the future. She had declared her love for him aboard the Scoria that ugly night Lethyne Tyne had played his hand for her and lost, and yet Rema had not seemed moved at all. Indeed she was glad, for he was loyal to Sylvion and this was how it should be, but her heart ached for his love and she knew that the days ahead would change all their lives forever. She had left him once and she doubted she could bear losing him again, even if it was to the most wonderful woman in all the land. She held no vain anger in her heart towards Sylvion Greyfeld, she just wished so desperately that it could be different.
Serenna did not know that as she had stood there, leaning on the parapet and gazing with Rema out across the land, he too had struggled hard with many emotions. He knew now that the beautiful woman with whom he had experienced so many adventures was not his cousin and this changed everything. At times found himself entranced by her, but his heart lay elsewhere and he knew that all his energies must be focused on saving Sylvion. When he had learnt from Reigin that hi
s help had not been needed, that she alone had crafted a most daring escape and carried it off, he felt in part proud and elated, but also less needed. He had placed an arm around Serenna and she had enjoyed the closeness, until unable to remain like that, so close and yet so far apart, she had turned to him and lifted her face to his. She had kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered.
‘Rema I do not know the end of all that is to come, and I fear many things, but we are different people now, and I cannot walk out of your life again. Death I do not fear, so wherever the fighting is hard, I will be there, for I care not what happens to me from this moment on.’
And she had left him then, standing alone with those words of doom echoing in his ears, and had gone off to prepare for what was to come. She gave him no chance to reply, for there was nothing he could have said; she had spared him that powerlessness.
Scion rode as one who had done little of such an activity. His life spent on the sea, he had no skill with horses. With mighty thighs he held to his poor steed with a vice like grip to ensure he did not fall. He found the motion rough and unpredictable, so unlike the gentle motion of his old mistress, the ocean; but he had no regrets at leaving that which had called him when just a boy. The mystery of the sea for him had finally played itself out in that last and violent storm when he feared they would all perish, and now he knew his life lay elsewhere. He had quickly fallen under the spell of those with whom he travelled. The quest which had somehow taken him in seemed strangely exciting, and his new friendship with Rema and Serenna had transformed his otherwise predictable life. Deep down he was unsettled by talk of war, but he had faced death and believed he would give a good account of himself, and his thoughts found comfort in a better future for himself.
