Ancient Voices: Into the Depths

by Allison D. Reid

  “I remember when it happened,” Cailean said sadly. “Wyman and his brother were always very close. Wyman wanted them to run the tavern together, and they tried it off and on. But at heart, his brother was a miner and an outdoorsman who loved to hunt. He couldn’t stand being trapped indoors. At the first signs that spring was near, he would grab his pick and disappear into the foothills, even if there was still snow on the ground. No one is really sure what happened. A late mountain storm rolled through unexpectedly, a pretty bad one, and he got caught out in it. When the storm had passed and he didn’t come home, people went out looking for him. Weeks later, one of the other miners found him dead at the bottom of a steep cliff. Wyman is pretty well respected in Minhaven, but everyone agrees he hasn’t been the same since.”

  “I wish I had known him before,” Elowyn commented. “There always seems to be a shadow of sorrow hidden beneath his laughter. I want to wipe it away but don’t know how.”

  “I don’t think anyone but Aviad can wipe it away,” Cailean mused thoughtfully. “I guess I can’t fault him. My father had a close call once...got his leg pinned beneath some fallen rock. But I was there with him and ran to the village for help. Took the strength of five men to get him out. If I hadn’t been there, he probably would have died that day, and I would now wear the same shadow Wyman does. Mining may be honest work, as my father so often reminds me, but the mountains aren’t safe.

  “More than once we were robbed at sword-point of our smelted ore as we were hauling it into the village. Each time it happened I froze, terrified that my father would be cut down before my eyes, and that I would be run through shortly after. I can’t even tell you how many nights I relived those terrifying moments in my sleep. The thieves may be gone now, but not the fear they left in me...of not knowing what to do...of standing there helpless, unable to defend myself or my father.

  “Glak will surely never know how grateful I am that I have been allowed to train with his men. I’ve worked so hard, not because I am eager to spill my blood against the beasts, but because I cannot bear to live with the fear any longer. Next time, I’ll be ready, and if I choose to fight back it won’t be about ore. It will be about dignity—about seizing the fears that have tormented me all these years and casting them out. I’d rather chance an honorable death than live and continue to suffer with the shame.” Cailean stopped walking and took a moment to stare up into the trees and into the depths of the sky. Without turning towards her, he spoke again, so softly she could barely hear his words. “I have never confessed that to anyone before. Not even to my father. I hope you don’t think the worse of me for it, but somehow I feel better having told you.”

  “Why should I think worse of you?” Elowyn asked. “We are all afraid of something. At least you are honest.”

  “I hope we can always be honest with each other,” Cailean said earnestly, turning to give her a searching look. As much time as they had spent together, and as well as Cailean knew her, she had kept remarkably silent about her past. No doubt he had been curious for some time as to where she had come from and why, though he had never pressed her for information. The unspoken rule of not asking too many questions had shielded her thus far. But that rule was meant for strangers and acquaintances, not friends...and certainly not very close friends.

  “So do I,” Elowyn said truthfully, wanting to unload the burden of her secrets as much as he wanted to know them.

  Cailean gazed at her expectantly, waiting for answers. “You want to know my story, how I ended up here.” It was not really a question, but Elowyn felt the need to say it aloud and confirm what she already knew in her heart to be true.

  “Don’t you think I’ve been patient enough?” Cailean asked in a hurt tone. “I know you must have run from something pretty horrible to have sought refuge here. So many have. That’s not what I care about though. I just want to know who you are. And I guess I need to know that you trust me.”

  “I do trust you—more than anyone—and I so want to tell you everything.”

  “But you can’t,” Cailean said with such disappointment in his eyes that Elowyn could hardly bear it.

  “Not yet,” Elowyn said. “The secrets I keep are not mine only. Some of them...you might one day wish I had never told you. I often wish that I could forget.” Elowyn’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. She was finally beginning to understand the pain endured by many of those who had sought refuge in Minhaven. She would eventually have to choose between her secrets and her need for human companionship. Even at such a distance, Braeden and her mother could still ruin any chance she might have to live a normal life.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I knew it must be bad. I didn't mean to hurt you; it has just been hard to watch you struggle under a silent burden that I am forbidden to help you carry. You may not know it, Elowyn, but there is a shadow of sorrow beneath your laughter too. And I would like to be the one who wipes it away.” Cailean reached for Elowyn’s hand and held it tightly. This time the gesture had been a deliberate one, and there was no question as to what he meant by it.

  Elowyn was stunned. Her heart raced with both excitement and anxiety. She had begun to suspect Cailean’s true feelings, and now that he had made them plain to her, she could no longer deny her own. She loved him. What to do with that love mystified her. Certainly she, Morganne, and Adelin had loved each other as sisters. She even understood to a certain degree the depth of love that men like Gareth and Jadon had reserved for the Ancients alone. She had always longed for parental love, and had more than once indulged that longing by basking in the affections of an imaginary father. But this was different. What did she know of the kind of love she saw in Cailean’s eyes as he boldly interlocked his fingers with hers, desperately hoping she would not recoil from his touch? She did not pull away. Instead she clung to the warmth of his hand, grateful for the strength and comfort he was offering.

  If Elowyn could have stayed forever in that place, that moment, she would have. But they both knew by the sun’s position that they couldn’t tarry much longer. They continued to walk together, hand-in-hand, quietly enjoying each other’s company until the difficult terrain forced them to let go. All too soon they could see the roof of Cailean’s cottage below them. His father was still working over the pit with coals and making minor repairs to the bloomery. He welcomed them back and asked Elowyn in a light-hearted manner what she thought of the mountains. His love for his home was obvious, as was the pride he felt for his work, and his only son.

  “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” Elowyn responded truthfully. “I am so glad that Cailean brought me—I’ll never forget this day.” She smiled, turning her face away in the hopes that Cailean’s father might not notice the glow of her cheeks and brightness of her eyes. Knowing they would be hungry, he fed them broth with leeks, bread, and onions before sending them back on the path toward Minhaven. Elowyn thanked him for his hospitality, and he welcomed her to come back and visit again.

  Compared to the rocky slopes they had just scaled, the way back to the village now seemed as tame as Tyroc’s gentle woodlands. Elowyn took care to memorize every detail so that she might find her way back again. They talked and laughed lightly along the way until Cailean knew they were nearing the village. There he stopped and grew serious again for a few moments before continuing on.

  “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come see you again. Now that winter is over, Father will need my help. He won’t admit it, but this work is getting harder for him by the year, especially with his bad leg. I worry about him going out alone. But I’ll try to keep up my training, and whenever we bring in a load of ore I’ll come find you.”

  “I understand,” Elowyn said sadly. After spending so much time with Cailean at the granary every day, his absence would be difficult to adjust to. Though he could have parted ways with her at the edge of the village, he insisted on walking her home so that Morganne could see he had kept his promise. They were surprised to see a flurry of
Kinship activity going on at the tavern and stable as they approached. Elowyn recognized the signs.

  “They are preparing for battle again,” she said anxiously, wondering what that meant. Glak stood near the doorway, giving instructions to two of his men.

  “Organize a group of couriers to seek out all the other Kinship leaders. I want them to report back immediately as to the goings on in their regions and what they know. I’m going to inspect the horses first, then meet up with the men at the granary to finalize our strategy for tomorrow’s battle. You can find me there if you need anything further.”

  “Is the Kinship going out to meet the beasts again, sir?” Cailean asked as the men turned away to carry out Glak’s orders.

  “At sunrise,” Glak responded.

  “If you think I am ready, I would go with you,” Cailean volunteered bravely. “You and your men have invested much in my training and I am willing to serve the Kinship in the protection of my home.”

  Glak seemed to take the request seriously, and to Elowyn’s horror, she thought for a moment that he was going to accept it. But then he seemed to change his mind and said, “Not this time. Your skill and tenacity have impressed me greatly, but I’m not ready for you to join us just yet. Soon though, your hard work and patience will be rewarded. For now, I would have you remain here in case Brant needs you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cailean said, respectfully accepting Glak’s decision. Clearly he was disappointed, but Elowyn was relieved, as she was sure his father would be also. Though she had always known Cailean’s goal was to join the Kinship one day, the reality that he could be whisked away to battle, without any warning, came as a sudden shock. Despite the training she had received, she knew this was not a risk she would ever be expected to take. She reminded herself how little that mattered here. That dusty little village she had seen from above earlier that day was just as vulnerable as Solis had been. Their only hope was that the strength of the Kinship was enough to hold the beasts at bay.

  As soon as Elowyn entered the tavern she was overcome by all the different smells coming from the kitchen. She suddenly realized how hungry and tired she was from spending the whole day walking outdoors. It was an old, comfortable feeling that she had missed. Morganne paid Wyman to have a large meal prepared and brought to their room for dinner, a rarity that Elowyn always enjoyed.

  As they sat down to eat, Morganne asked about Elowyn’s day. The special meal was apparently a sign that Morganne wanted to talk. Elowyn spoke lightly about the beauty of the mountains, and of how kind Cailean’s father had been to her. She could sense that Morganne was waiting patiently for something more, but Elowyn was not ready to share the intense jumble of emotions filling her heart at that moment. She was still struggling to sort them out for herself and was at a loss as to how to express them to the expectant Morganne. But there was one pressing matter she could not avoid discussing, and the sooner it was dealt with, the better.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can keep silent about where we came from,” she said abruptly.

  Morganne was startled. “What does our past matter?” she asked defensively. “I had hoped that here, of all places, people could accept us as who we are now. I don’t want to look back.”

  “Neither do I. You know I never really found my place in Tyroc,” Elowyn said. “People thought I was strange, and so I stayed away, which only made them think worse of me. It doesn’t have to be that way here. But how close can I get to people when I can’t tell them anything about who I am, and how I came to be here?”

  “Cailean wants to know?” Morganne asked pointedly.

  “Yes,” Elowyn said, feeling her cheeks flush. “I need to be honest with him, as he has been with me. But it is more than just that. I fear the silence will surely destroy me like a slow-working poison. Look at Bane, or some of the other men who lurk in the dark corners of the tavern. They come here to be near other people because they are lonely, but they say little, and befriend no one. Maybe they tried once and found it too difficult, I don’t know. Their secrets have become a prison from which they will never escape, though the door is unlocked and guarded by no one. I don’t think I can live that way.”

  “So many times I have almost revealed things to Jadon that I promised myself I wouldn’t,” Morganne confessed. “But our freedom is still so new, and fragile. What if by revealing our past, we destroy the lives we’ve made for ourselves here? I still sometimes have nightmares that Mother has found us. I can’t go back, Elowyn, not ever.”

  “Glak knows our story. Don’t you think he and the Kinship would protect us? The Sovereign’s law doesn’t mean much out here.”

  “Perhaps. I still want to be cautious. But some things might be safe to reveal...to a very select few. I think we could trust Cailean and Jadon. No one else though—not yet. And I know I don’t need to remind you of our oaths to Glak.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Just please...be careful...and not only with our secrets.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our freedom is not the only fragile thing that needs protection.”

  Elowyn nodded in understanding, grateful that nothing more had to be said. Her body was sore and spent, but her heart and spirit soared weightless as she drifted off to sleep. She slept soundly that night, dancing across mountain meadows in her dreams, with her fingers closed tightly around a fistful of wilted, yet still fragrant, yellow flowers.

  An Unexpected Reunion

  Elowyn was startled out of sleep by a rapping on the door. She opened her eyes and looked up to see herbs and dried fish hanging from the rafters above her. She was lying on a mat next to an open hearth, and there was a large loom against the far wall. Her mother’s loom. She sat up and looked around. She was back in Tyroc. Morganne and Adelin were not there, and the knocking at the door was becoming more forceful by the minute.

  Her heart jumped as a huge clap of thunder suddenly shook the cottage, and a torrent of rain began to dash against the walls and roof. She stared at the door, terrified. Had the apparition of Nevon returned to torment her? Or was something more sinister lurking on the other side of the door? Another crack of thunder erupted from the sky, then rumbled low and long like a throaty growl. As the thunder trailed off, Elowyn thought she could hear something sniffing and scratching at the crack under the door. The banging continued more urgently, now made by something much harder than a human hand. The intruder was no longer knocking, but trying to break the door down.

  The coin! Elowyn snatched her pouch from its hook on the wall and held it tightly to her chest. She had to make sure the coin nestled within it was safe. She flung aside the heavy curtain that led to her mother’s sleeping area, prepared to face her wrath. But her mother wasn’t there. The cottage had vanished, and Elowyn found herself standing in a cold, damp place, blinded by sheer darkness. She reached her hands out and a rough stone wall greeted her fingertips. After a few moments of fumbling with her tinder box and a stump of candle, she managed to light a small flame. She was in the underground shelter that Einar had once shown her. The heavy door on the other side of the room was barred shut from the inside.

  Another deep boom of thunder and the pelting sound of heavy rain filled her ears. Something was very wrong. So far below ground, surrounded by thick, impenetrable walls, she should not have been able to hear either. Besides, this place was no longer safe now that Braeden knew about it. Elowyn began to panic. There was nothing to sustain her here—no food, water, blankets or source of heat. What frightened her more was the thought of what might be lying in wait on the outside. Were the Hounds camped just above her, waiting for her to emerge?

  “Einar!” She called out in desperation, clenching the coin tightly in her fist. “Where are you?” Elowyn’s strained plea echoed off the bare walls, met only by an empty, frightening silence. Einar was not going to come...not this time. She was utterly alone, and no one who could help her knew where she was.

  Suddenly there was a slow, ominous t
apping at the door. Elowyn refused to answer, silently pressing herself into the farthest corner of the shelter. The tapping turned to persistent knocking, then banging, then pounding, so hard that even the massive door of the shelter shuddered with the force of it. Elowyn covered her ears to no avail as the pounding grew louder and louder. Boom!

  Elowyn finally woke with her heart racing. Her throat was dry, but the rest of her was drenched in a nervous sweat. A storm was raging outside; a real, mountain-made spring storm, not one conjured by Braeden. One of the shutters had come loose and was banging hard against the wall. She got up and managed to secure it even though her hands were shaking. Morganne and Adelin were enjoying a deep, peaceful sleep, completely unaware of the turmoil going on around them.

  Elowyn’s nerves had been on edge since the morning she had lurked in silence at the back door to the tavern, watching the Kinship disappear onto the western pass. They were no longer a nameless band of warriors in armor to her—she knew these men. She had trained alongside them...listening to their banter, watching their brows drip with sweat, and sometimes blood. Elowyn feared for them more than they feared for themselves, yet she had come to greatly admire their resolve, and their courage. They willingly faced death and pain in the hopes that she, and the rest of the village, might not have to. She wondered how much worse her nightmares would have been if Cailean had ridden out with them. That was an eventuality she was not ready to accept.

  Morganne unknowingly added to Elowyn’s anxiety. She had given herself some time away from the tomes, and had engaged Jadon in some intense, philosophical discussions that seemed to have helped her temper her own fears. Armed with a clearer perspective, she was now working on the tomes again with renewed vigor. In her excitement, she would often read passages to Elowyn that she found particularly insightful, or that seemed to confirm their own experiences.