The Stone of Mercy

by M. J. Evans

  Carling and Higson mounted their Centaurs and bid the Fauns farewell. The Centaurs left the canyon by cantering toward the spot where they had entered the evening before. It didn’t take them long to get to the mouth of Manyon Canyon and turn onto the Echoing Plains.

  The sun beat on their backs as the warm air blew hair and tails aloft and meadowlarks and mourning doves sang out a greeting. Carling noticed none of this, however. As her body moved in rhythm with her friend’s rocking gallop. Her mind was busy reviewing all that had just occurred. In many ways, she felt amazed by her own behavior. In other ways, what she’d just done scared her. She knew the stone she wore on her chest had caused her to behave in a dangerous manner, all in the name of mercy. Life was never going to be the same for her, she knew that for a fact. She felt like she was stepping into the darkness and hoped there would be a light to guide her.

  The Echoing Plains still carried the ominous sounds of the Cyclops across the rolling hills as the monsters forged and hammered their weapons. They were preparing for war. A shiver tickled Carling’s spine. She knew she would have to be involved. Not only that, but she would have to see it through to the end when someone would finally hold the ruling throne atop Mount Heilodious. She would not have chosen this life.

  As her thoughts went to her mother, Carling felt tears sting the backs of her eyes as her throat constricted in sorrow. In an instant, a new realization dawned and she knew her mother had understood what the silver breastplate would mean for Carling. Her mother had hidden it from her, not even mentioning it until she was dying. Clearly, she had wanted to protect Carling. Now she was gone and Carling was on her own…on her own except for her friends. Carling reached around Tibbals’ waist and pressed her cheek against the filly’s shoulder, letting her tears wet the Centaur’s billowing blouse. Tibbals reached back with one of her hands and gently caressed the Duende, even as she kept carrying her toward the future.

  Chapter 20

  A Night in the Forest

  Tandum and Tibbals kept moving long into the night, winding over hills and through gullies as they crossed the Echoing Plains by the light of the full moon. At long last, they entered the darkness of the Forest of Rumors. Carling had fallen asleep, soothed by the rocking motion of her Centaur friend’s smooth gait. She awoke when Tibbals slowed to a much-deserved walk. Carling instantly became alert as she looked around at the looming trees and the ominous shadows that surrounded them.

  “We’re in the Forest of Rumors! How did you cross the Plains so quickly?”

  Tibbals stopped and stretched. With a weary voice she said, “It didn’t feel like it went quickly to me!”

  Immediately shamed by her insensitivity, Carling leaped off her friend’s back. “I’m so sorry, Tibbals. You must be exhausted. What can I do for you?”

  “Just let me sleep,” Tibbals said with a weak smile. Looking down at her hooves whose sparkling polish was now chipped and dulled she added, “And some new hoof polish wouldn’t hurt either.”

  Carling smiled. “I wish I had some for you,” she said sincerely.

  Tandum and Higson moved ahead, searching for a safe place to rest for the remainder of the night. They returned shortly and led Carling and Tibbals to a well-protected, though tiny, glen. Carling walked alongside Tibbals, rubbing her sore, sweat-covered body as they followed Tandum and Higson to the little clearing.

  What the boys had found was the perfect hideaway in which to bed down for the night. It was accessed by crawling under a bent-over tree, the branches of which formed a pine-needle curtain. Once in the circular clearing, the members of the little group were protected by a thick wall of brush and a canopy of branches and leaves. For the first time since leaving Higson’s home, Carling felt safe.

  Tibbals and Tandum collapsed and instantly fell asleep, Tandum snoring contentedly, Tibbals humming in her sleep.

  Higson took Carling’s hand and led her to one side of the glen, where they sat down beside each other. “Carling,” Higson began, his dark eyes peering into his friend’s violet eyes, “how are you feeling?”

  “Frightened,” she responded.

  “I would be, too. The very thought of becoming the queen of Crystonia must be a heavy burden. I’d probably want to run away.” Higson said this with a smile, but concern shone in his eyes.

  Carling bit her lip. “I do feel like that,” she finally said. “I am not qualified to lead anyone, let alone a country. I feel so alone….” As her voice trailed off, she gazed up toward the branches that intertwined above their heads.

  Higson gave her hand a squeeze. “Oh, but you will never be alone,” he said. “Tibbals and I have already promised each other that we will stay by your side. I’m sure Tandum will, too. And now you have many new friends in the Fauns. Speaking of the Fauns, have I told you what a remarkable thing you did back there? Of course, I must admit, I did think you were a little crazy!”

  “It wasn’t me. It was the Stone of Mercy.” Carling pivoted her body so she was staring straight at Higson. “From the moment I put the stone in the breastplate, I felt a most remarkable power. It’s impossible to explain. But I know that what I said and did was because of the stone.”

  Higson nodded. “I believe you. If the stones didn’t hold power, the Wizard would not be sending you to gather them.” He ran his fingers through his thick, brown hair. “We still have three more to find.”

  “Yes,” Carling said. “That’s scary, too. The Wizard said there would be those who would try to stop us. Oh, Higson,” she added with a forlorn sigh, her body starting to tremble at the thought of what they’d just endured…and what lay ahead.

  Higson wrapped his arms around her. “Whatever happens,” he said, “we’ll face it together.”

  Tears choked off anymore words Carling might say. She wanted to tell her friend how much he meant to her, how much she loved him. But all she could do was cry.

  —

  The night was filled with visions of her parents being viciously attacked by the Heilodius Centaurs. The evil eyes buried deep in the grimy face of the Centaur that had bragged about killing her mother and father kept haunting Carling as she slept. When she whimpered and cried out, Higson moved close and wrapped his cloak around her. He stroked her hair in an effort to comfort her.

  Carling awoke to find her head cradled on Higson’s lap. The birds and squirrels chirping and chattering in the trees overhead seemed to erase any foreboding feeling that the Forest of Rumors usually elicited as well as the painful memories of her dreams. Carling stretched her sore muscles and sat up. Her movement awoke Higson, who had been sleeping with his back resting against a tree trunk.

  “Are you ready for a new day?” he mumbled groggily.

  “We shall see,” she replied.

  Tandum and Tibbals approached. Though happy to see her friends, Carling was not happy at all to hear the filly’s first words to her. “Tandum is going to take us to the hunting cottage,” Tibbals said, pulling Carling to her feet.

  “What if the Centaurs are still there?” Higson said, standing.

  “Then we will give them what they deserve,” Tandum announced boldly, his arms folded across his chest.

  Still shaken from the haunting dreams that had roiled through her mind, Carling didn’t know how to respond. She remembered the desire for revenge she had felt when they came upon the murderous Centaurs. But now, her feelings were different. The craving for retaliation just wasn’t there, as hard as she tried to resurrect it. She said nothing and climbed on Tibbals’ back.

  The two Centaurs moved through the forest but at a slower pace than the day before. Carling could tell Tibbals was still tired from the exhausting dash across the Echoing Plains. She assumed Tandum felt the same.

  As they moved deeper into the forest, it became darker and quieter. Branches hung low, obscuring their view of what lay ahead. Ferns and flowers gave way to brambles and tangled weeds, concealing any sign of a path. Tandum picked the best route he could and kept them progressing. He
seemed to be in possession of an internal compass that led them in the right direction. A few hours later, they stopped by the side of a stream for a much-needed break and a lunch of dried-out bread and cheese. Tibbals and Tandum let the horse part of them take over as they munched on some long grasses growing by the water’s edge. Carling watched with intense curiosity, wondering how much horse and how much human went into the Centaur race. Perhaps that would be just another mystery never to be solved.

  Refreshed and invigorated, Tandum trotted over. “Let’s go find these Heilodius monsters,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  Finding the Cabin

  It was nearly time for the sun to depart for the day when they reached the forest glen where the old cabin sat. All was silent. The cabin was dark. Nothing moved, other than a few branches dancing in the gentle wind.

  Tandum stopped at the edge of the glen in a place where he could observe unnoticed. He listened with his keen ears, watched with his alert eyes, and sniffed the air, searching for signs of danger.

  “Get down and wait here,” Tandum said to Higson. The young Duende did as he was told, sliding to the ground as silently as a leaf floats to the earth in autumn.

  Carling remained on Tibbals, afraid to move and certain she should not make a sound. She watched Tandum step cautiously into the clearing. With each step forward, he stopped, listened, and looked around. Seeing, hearing, and even smelling nothing, he took another step. Step by guarded step, the colt moved first around the clearing, then up to the cabin. The windows were open, but the door appeared to be tightly shut. Tandum pressed his large, beautiful body against the side of the cabin, waited, then peeked in one of the windows. Straightening, he walked boldly to the front door and flung it open. He turned and, with a smile on his face, motioned for them to come.

  Tibbals trotted forward, nearly unseating Carling, who was not holding on. Higson jogged along beside them.

  The group entered the cabin, excited and relieved to have a warm shelter for the night. Carling dismounted and looked around her. The cabin was old but solidly built. Beds designed for Centaurs lined the walls. A water pump and bucket sat to one side of the room, waiting to be put to use. Unfortunately, the previous occupiers, the Heilodius Centaurs, had left quite a mess. Discarded metal bottles and scraps of food littered the floor and side tables. One lantern had been knocked off its hook, the impact of its landing on the wooden plank floor causing shards of glass to scatter around the center of the room.

  “Oh, they’re disgusting,” snorted Tibbals. “What a bunch of pigs.”

  Carling agreed but said nothing. The thought that her parents’ murderers had been here made her feel a bit queasy. She decided removing the reminders of their presence would help. “Higson,” she said, “will you help me clean this place up?"

  Higson didn’t need to reply. He stepped over to the fireplace and retrieved a brittle old broom and rusted dustpan that were resting against the stones. Handing the dustpan to Carling, he started sweeping, sending dust into the air and out the open windows while Carling tried to catch what she could.

  While the Duende cleaned, the Centaurs shuffled through their packs for what remained of their food supply. In one bag they found some dried meat, in another a crust of bread. A few figs were found in the bottom of another. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to quiet their grumbling stomachs. Tibbals pumped some water into metal cups and set them on the table.

  As the sun set, the shadowy darkness that was always present in the Forest of Rumors deepened and became more menacing. Higson lit the only remaining lantern and Tandum built a fire in the stone fireplace. Carling and Tibbals went around the room, shutting windows.

  The four weary travelers sat down for their meager meal, Carling and Higson on stools and Tibbals and Tandum on bed-like benches built to hold a horse’s body. Carling had just put a fig in her mouth and was savoring its sweetness when a thunderous bang shook the house and the front door crashed into the room, splintering as it hit the floor.

  Before Carling even knew what was happening, Higson had shoved her under the table. On her hands and knees and breathing rapidly, Carling looked out between the table legs. A dozen mud-splattered hooves stomped into the room over the broken door. She watched as they and the burly legs attached to them came to a stop.

  “Well, well, well. What have we here? A feast? And you didn’t have the courtesy to invite us?”

  Carling’s heart jumped to her throat and her pulse quickened. She knew that voice. It was the same voice that had recounted the story of the vicious killing of her mother. It was the Centaur named Clank. Her body gave an involuntary shiver.

  From beneath the table, she watched the chestnut legs of Tandum unfold as he stood. “You may leave now,” Tandum said boldly.

  The Centaurs laughed boisterously.

  “Well, I can see the king’s son has inherited some of his father’s arrogance!” said Clank.

  “For your information,” said another Centaur, “we will be sleeping here tonight. If you know what’s good for you, you should leave.”

  Carling watched the first set of legs turn back toward the others, then heard Clank’s derisive snort. “What?” he said. “You want to let them go? Don’t you know who this is? These are the king’s children. They are worth a lot. They can help us with our cause. We need to keep them as hostages.”

  The Heilodius Centaurs began debating this idea…and their other options. “Kill them,” said one.

  “No, we can use them,” Clank repeated. “They’re worth a king’s ransom!”

  “Let’s not be bothered,” another Centaur responded. “Just send them on their way,”

  From her hiding place, Carling watched as Higson stood. She felt panic building inside her. She needed to remain calm and rational. She needed a plan. Her eyes darted around the room. She saw her pack with the bow and quiver of arrows resting against a bed, but it was too far for her to reach. She looked the other way and saw the sword in its leather sheath that belonged to Tandum. Again, it was too far away to be reached…unless…A plan began to take shape in her astute mind.

  Chapter 22

  Fighting the Heilodius

  While the Heilodius Centaurs continued arguing loudly, Carling crawled under the table and lowered herself to her stomach. She slid between Tibbals’ legs, hoping the filly wouldn’t move and step on her with her sharp hooves. She wiggled under the bench upon which her friend was sitting. Tibbals had chosen to sit in front of the fire for warmth. Leaning against the stones of the fireplace was the straw broom that Higson had used earlier. Carling kept her eyes focused on the broom and scooted swiftly but silently toward it. Reaching it, she grabbed hold of the bristles and pulled the broom toward her where she lay, half concealed under the bench. She turned the broom around until she was holding the wooden handle. Then she slid the rest of her body out from under the bench, hoping no one had noticed her. Leaning forward, Carling placed the straw end of the broom into the glowing red coals at the base of the fireplace. Immediately, the straw caught on fire and Carling jumped to her feet.

  “Leave, now!” Carling ordered, jabbing the flaming broom toward the intruders.

  The Heilodius Centaurs stopped their argument, whirled around, and gasped when they saw Carling coming toward them with a flaming torch. The horse half of the Centaurs was desperately afraid of fire, and this fear caused them to freeze just long enough for Higson, Tibbals, and Tandum to lunge for their weapons.

  Facing a flaming torch, two swords, and a bow and arrow brought the Heilodius Centaurs to life. They reared up on their hind legs and drew swords of their own. As quick as a flash, Higson leaped to the top of the table, sending cups and dishes crashing to the ground. In one smooth motion, he pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it on the bow string, pulled back, and released it. Before the first Centaur, Clank, could lower his forelegs to the ground to fight, he had an arrow imbedded deep in his chest. With a scream, he collapsed to the floor.

&nb
sp; The other two Centaurs jumped over their leader, swinging their swords over their heads. Tibbals and Tandum stepped up to meet them, blocking the downward blows with their own swords. While Tibbals whirled and kicked at the attackers with her strong hind legs, Tandum continued to fight head on.

  Carling ran forward, passing Tibbals and jabbing at one Heilodius Centaur with her flaming broom. The attacker reared up again and spun on his hind legs to avoid the flames. Losing his balance on the uneven planks that formed the floor, he fell to his side, landing right on top of Clank, who was still moaning in pain. Higson jumped off the table, landing squarely on both feet. He stood his ground, his next arrow aimed at the second Centaur’s heart.

  Tandum still had his hands full fighting the third Heilodius herd member. Back and forth, the two moved around the room, knocking over furniture as they battled. Carling bit her lip as she watched, her heart racing. Anxious and frightened, she watched for a chance to help Tandum.

  The opportunity presented itself quite by accident. Just as the two battling Centaurs came to her side of the cabin, the Heilodius Centaur whirled to avoid a lunge from Tandum’s sword, sending his long black tail swishing through the flames of the burning broom Carling still held aloft. In an instant, his tail was on fire.

  The Centaur screamed in terror and began running around the cabin. “Help me, help me! Clank, I’m on fire!”

  Fanned by the wind the panicked Centaur was creating by running, the flames grew larger and began moving up his tail toward his body. Without considering the possible repercussions of her actions, Carling tossed her flaming broom back into the fire and ran to the bucket sitting beneath the water pump. Relieved to see it contained quite a bit of water, she snatched it up and raced toward the terrified Centaur. With a mighty swing of her arms, she sent the water sailing through the air. It splashed down on the hindquarters and tail of the creature, dousing the fire instantly.