Chapter 4
I slipped little white silk slippers on my feet and followed the graceful Elf out of the room. She led through wide corridors with so many windows there was hardly an inch of wall, and balconies around every corner. Sheer curtains flapped gently in the breeze. Then we stopped, rather abruptly, at a big, silver door. Unstacia bowed her head and made her leave. I supposed I was to enter the door, so I took hold of the leaf-shaped handles and opened it.
On the other side of the door, there was not a room at all. It was simply the largest, most spectacular terrace I’d ever seen. It had to be the highest point on the mountain; everything seemed visibly from here. As was Brye.
“Layla!” He had been gazing over the thick ivory railing until he spotted me. He ran over to me and took my hands, smiled at me for a few very long seconds, then dropped one and led me by the other to the edge of the terrace.
“You can see everything from here,” Brye said, gazing over the mountain. Then he turned to me. “The last time we were on a terrace together, you weren’t in a very good mood. But the second I stepped foot here I knew you had to see it. That’s why I sent for you.”
“I’m glad you did.” I was truthful. I felt so minor in such vast beauty.
For a few moments, there was silence. But I could feel two eyes upon me. In a burst, I talked to fill the stillness. “I’ve nearly forgotten why I came here, with all of this around. I need to request an audience with King Eathay.”
Brye smiled. “I’ve already done that.”
Stopping Brye from running his hand up my arm, the ground exploded, or looked like it exploded. Dirt went flying, and I screamed.
“If that’s a regular occurrence, then it’s definitely the downfall of living here.” Brye, of course, wasn’t taking this seriously. Not until a creature nearly the size of the Castle of Blithe emerged from the ground. I grabbed on to Brye as if clinging for dear life.
“What is it?” I asked him. I watched his face crease with worry. I could tell he knew.
“Come on!” He spun around and grabbed my hand, and we fled the terrace. Brye slung the silver door open and didn’t bother closing it. We flew down the hallway, hand in hand, not bothering to look back. Suddenly a sound entered the air, like giant baby wailing.
“That’s an alarm for the people,” Brye shouted above it.
This creature was dangerous enough to need an alarm. The thought of that was slightly frightening.
We rounded the corner and ran into an Elf man, knocking him to the ground. When all recovered I saw that he had a uniform on, and that there was several Elf man wearing the same thing all around. They were gathered around a spot on the floor, opening a trap door.
“King Brydon,” The Elf that we had knocked down said, “are you going to ride against the Belraingst?”
The Belraingst?
“Yes, and so will my Queen,” Brye gave me a prompting look.
Abruptly I said, “Yes, yes I will.” Then I realized I had just agreed to ride against the Belraingst.
“Come on, into armor,” an Elf from behind said as he forced a fitted breastplate obviously made for a woman over my head. I could hardly breathe, but I wasn’t sure what the cause was. It could have been my armor, but it might just as easily been my nerves.
“And ‘ere’s your sword,” the Elf said again, handing me the a leather sleeve with a wooden handle poking out. I took it from him and pulled it out of the sleeve. It was… wooden.
“I think you’ve given me the wrong sword,” I replaced the sleeve and handed it back to him. He took it out and examined it, then handed it back to me.
“No milady, ‘tis the right one.”
“But it is wooden!” I exclaimed, placing the wooden sword under his nose for a closer examination.
“Aye, ‘tis supposed to be,” he gently pushed it out of his face.
What he said was alarming, and my heart beat faster than before. “But, sir, how am I to kill the beast with plain wood? It won’t even pierce it!”
“Who says it won’t?” He watched me as he sorted out other’s armor. “No iron will kill the beast. Only wood. There is no other way.”
I stood there, not sure what to think, holding the leather sleeve with numbing fingers. It didn’t make sense. How could wood be stronger than any iron? How could a play sword kill the Belraingst? This was a suicidal mission!
“Off you go, milady,” a different Elf gave me a push in Brye’s direction. He was already heading down the wide corridor with a terribly dry and grave look upon his face. I sped up to him quickly and caught his sleeve.
“Brye, I don’t understand. They talk of a terrifying beast that could destroy the whole of Mount Geoterilavus, yet they give us wooden swords!”
He kept his steady gaze in front of him. He looked so valiant, in slow motion, marching with his defiant look and sword–even if it was wooden– in his strong hand. His blue eyes blazed fearlessly. The whole world seemed to stop for him. He glanced at me, and kept walking. Fearless.
Suddenly time sped up as we stepped into a veranda full of Elves ready to go into battle. The Belraingst had a enormous boulder in his hand, and I flinched because I was afraid he was about to hurl it my way. But instead, to my surprise, he opened his rotten-toothed mouth and ate it.
“Brye,” I stopped him, grabbing his arm. “Please explain the Belraingst to me.”
He looked back at me, his mouth opened to speak, but he shut it again. With his second effort he spoke. “The Belraingst is a creature that lives hibernated in the dirt for hundreds of years, only emerging to devour stone. Stone makes them grow larger, and it takes so long to digest that they only need to eat it every couple hundred years. The reason they live under ground is because they are vulnerable to wood. The wood poisons their blood in a matter of minutes.”
“That explains the swords,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“But if they only eat stone, why are they such a threat to us and the Elves?”
I saw Brye’s old sparkle return to his eyes for a brief moment. “What do you think the castle is made of?”
Leaving me to answer the question by myself, Brye left me and stood by the Elfin knights at the railing. It was tradition to jump off this veranda onto their horses before a battle. But Elves were made differently than humans, and I could tell the anxious look on Brye’s face that he wasn’t sure he was going to jump off with them.
So the Elves feared the Belraingst was going to eat the castle? It was an odd thought, but even so I was contemplating reality. According to them it was true, and I had agreed without second thoughts to help fight him off– even though the reason I hadn’t had second thoughts was because I agreed before I could even have my first thought.
I watched an Elf hand Brye a rope. “Come hold this for me, Layla.” I walked over to him and took the end of the rope as he tied the other one to the rail. After tugging it a few times to make sure it was secure, he took my end it dropped it.
“Elfin warriors, and courageous and generous King Brydon, ready yourselves for dismount.”
Brye hopped over the rail and stood on the other side supporting himself by the rope, and he looked like he was floating.
“Please don’t die,” I said to him, leaning over the rail to him. I was half joking, half serious.
“Elfin warriors, dismount!”
Brye’s eyes twinkled as he leaned forward and briskly but warmly kissed me on the cheek. “I promise.” And he was gone.
It was a really a thing that one could just promise, not to die, but I held on to his words as he rode on valiantly towards the Belraingst.
“Layla!” An Elfin commander was at my side. By now word must’ve passed through all the Elves minds that I disliked the name ‘Queen’.
“You’re to go on the distraction party. Follow Melinre and he will show you,” the commander told me. Behind him was what I of as thought somewhat shorter Elf–and then I realized he was not Elf at all. He looked almost Beatiez, but in another way, s
imply human. He held his hands clasped firmly in front of him, and his green eyes were sharp and lively. His hair, like a bowl put over his head, fell in his eyes. He brushed it away as he made a bow.
“If you will follow me, milady.”
So I followed the man. He had a quick and lively step, and I had to slightly quicken my own pace to match his.
“If it is not too bold, I daresay you are the only woman I’ve ever known to go into battle of her own free will. Very brave I’ll say.”
He had a nice accent, extending the f in if, saying bold as bode, and woman, wooo-min. The pitch in his voice was neither deep nor high, and the eagerness that sounded made a conversation strike up on its’ own.
“The brave part was standing up for what I wanted to do even if it wasn’twhat everyone else thought was respectable. That journey taught me more lessons than any battle field ever could,” I responded.
“Aye, assumable logic.”
Our footsteps echoed in the wide corridor. The crystal teardrop chandeliers tinkled as the Belraingst’s bellow once more shook the castle. Melinre’s footsteps quickened, as did mine as the picture of Brye sliding down the rope flashed through my mind. Soon the two of us were running, my skirts gathered in my hands. My bare ankles gave all they could, driven by fear.
“Does this breastplate cover my back?” I thought out loud, remembering how the dress exposed the entity of it. Did I have to choose this day to be fashionable? Melinre slowed himself a bit and checked for me.
“Noo. Bare as a chicken ready for the pot.” He gave me a funny scowl, likely wondering why I was such a dupe as to wear something as this. I began wondering myself. If I would have known the events of today, surely I would have been more sensible.
Finally we came upon a trap door in the floor. Melinre lifted it open and then led the way down to a courtyard outside the castle walls. Nearly fifty horsed men were patiently awaiting orders. There were two more horses for Melinre and I. I glided over and mounted the larger one, assuming the slightly shorter one was for Melinre, since he was shorter. My horse gave a reluctant grunt. I mimicked him, wishing he was Clupint. My lovely Clupintisaur, who had been a gift from the lady ruler of the Beatiez. The thought of that day made me think of Jedni, my pure black stallion who had been my life long companion, who Clupint was meant to replace. But no other horse could replace Jedni. That didn’t mean I loved Clupint less, I loved him just the same. We had been through so much together in this past year. It was simply impossible to even compare the two horses whatsoever.
“Layla!” Melinre was on his horse now. He held a horse whip in on hand, and I glared hard at it for a second without realizing it. I thought it them a wrong thing unless the horse was a mule.
“Ooh, this?” Melinre saw my eyes, and held up the whip. “Oh, doon’t woory ‘bout it. See, the Garnei wouldn’t go unless I had it.”
A Garnei? I looked the miniature horse’s nose. It was A Garnei all right. I hadn’t realized it before. But the nose gave it away, full in it’s pug, fist sized nostrils. Luckily hair filled them out, because if you didn’t, you could see clear inside his head. Brye had told me that, once, when I was younger. He had told me that while at home in Dreideth, him and one of the castle servant’s son’s had done it. I believed him then, and seeing the Garnei face to face, I didn’t start to doubt him. “I’ve never seen one before,” I told Melinre.
“Consider yerself lucky. Wish I’d never laid eyes oon him myself. Stubborn as a mule and dumb as a pig. Always makes me nervous oout in battle,” he said.
“Yes,” I said, “I am sure I prefer a horse.”
Suddenly a shrill horn caught the air, piercing it so unexpectedly that I felt as though I should have been knocked unconscious. But, I wasn’t, and I followed unknowingly as everyone started riding behind another Elfin Commander. I assumed we were going out into battle now.
“That noise is foor the Belraingst, to distract it,” Melinre explained.
This was actually my first arranged battle. Every time I fought it was always so unorganized, always spur of the moment, “Hey! Let’s go kill the bad guy!” This was very different for me. I couldn’t say I disliked it, but neither could I say I enjoyed it. I was used to being the leader, and now I was in the middle of the pack.
We rounded the bend and the Belraingst came into full view, now at eye level. At that second I decided I was glad I was in the middle, and even the back wouldn’t be that disappointing. It was humongous, bigger than anything (besides a giant tree, which it almost resembled) I had ever encountered in my life. I was very tempted to stop the horse in it’s tracks and wait for the Elves to kill him, or drive him back underground, or whatever they did. They haddone this before, and I was worse than an amateur at Belraingst killing. But then I saw Brye. Amateur or pro no longer seemed to matter.
He was in the path of the monster.
I let out an uncontrolled scream, startling the horses. Some looked at me funny, but I didn’t take notice. I slapped the horse’s rump and sped past everyone, not even hearing Melinre’s call for me to stop. Nothing seemed to matter more right now than saving Brye.
He was dodging the Belraingst’s footsteps, but I could tell it had to be difficult, and he couldn’t keep up much longer. I really didn’t know what to do. So I just drew my sword, and charged. With my mouth open wide, and my eyes wider, the horse made a sudden stop that threw me off and onto the Belraingst’s foot, driving the sword into it’s upper shin accidentally. But it gave me a handle, even if it did stain my hands with blood. The Belraingst roared in pain, and stood still, but didn’t fall. Brye was safe. He looked at me in surprise, and another look that I couldn’t figure out, but it looked like serious concern.
Then I knew why. I looked up, and for a split second, I saw a giant Belraingst fist coming at me.
Half Heart Page 9
