Vedientir

by Ivan Hladni

"Go to Shallows. Then Echa Rei."

  He was just finishing the last letter when Daedar came down the stairs carrying a small wooden chest and a leather satchel bulging with scrolls and sheets of papers. Daedar looked at Dion's message and nodded approvingly.

  "Good enough. Now fetch the sword from the wall. Leave the shield. It will only slow us down."

  Dion took a chair and went to get the sword hanging above the fireplace.

  Louder shouting came pouring into the house from the street and Daedar ran to the front door to see what was happening. He saw four figures approaching. They were about to pass Mia's house, but her curses stopped them.

  She was shaking her walking stick at them, screaming. "Bastards! Murderers! What have you done?"

  "Stop screaming, you old hag! What's wrong with you?" replied one of the pillagers with a smile on his face, teasing the old woman, and then split from the group and went towards her, carrying an axe in one hand.

  "Mia, go back inside!" Daedar cried, gesturing with his arms at the same time.

  The old woman straightened as much as her back would let her and firmly grabbed her walking stick with both arms. She was going nowhere.

  Daedar turned in the doorway, dropping the chest and satchel to the ground.

  "Throw me the sword! Quickly!"

  Dion took it by the blade, jumped down from the chair, and flung it hilt first toward his grandfather. Daedar grabbed the sword and ran out the door. Dion followed him, stopping only briefly at the door to pick up the things Daedar had dropped.

  Mia swung her stick, tried to hit the pillager first but missed. She lost balance, stumbled forward, and then he struck her. Blood spurted from the gash and she fell to the ground.

  Dion rushed behind his grandfather and watched in horror as the pillager bent, took out the axe, and struck again. He lifted the head of the woman who always gave Dion the ripest fruit that grew in her garden and showed it to the rest of the group on the road.

  They cheered.

  "She's not so loud anymore!" he said with a wide grin and they cheered even more.

  "And here comes grandpa to the slaughter!" he continued with the same grin, and pointed with the woman's head at Daedar.

  At that moment Daedar caught up with the pillagers on the road. He ran shoulder-first straight into one and blew him away. The pillager screamed as he flew, and his screams silenced their laughter. They braced to defend themselves but they were too slow. Daedar cut down another two with two swift strokes of the sword, and had stabbed the felled pillager by the time Dion reached him. Daedar then turned to face the one who murdered Mia.

  The pillager threw away the woman's head, howling at the old man. Daedar let Dion have his sword and walked barehanded towards the small wooden gates. When Daedar passed the gates, the pillager threw the axe and it flew past him, crashing the flimsy fence.

  Seeing that he missed his target, the pillager came towards Daedar, screaming his lungs out. He punched Daedar once in the body, and twice on the head, but the old man stood his ground. Then Daedar got hold of the pillager's throat and suffered more punches as he squeezed. He grabbed the throat with his other hand and tightened his grip. The pillager struggled for a while, and then his face changed. The strength of his strokes waned, and he grabbed Daedar's hands, trying to free himself from the deadly grip. It didn't take long for the pillager to stop fighting.

  The lifeless body of the pillager dangled in Daedar's arms until Dion came and nudged him. Daedar let the body fall to the ground, then stepped on and over it, and gently picked Mia's head up. He laid the head next to the body, said a silent goodbye, and left the yard.

  They were on the road again, running towards the river. They passed the crossroads where they had separated from the group a while ago, and then heard a rumble behind them. A group of pillagers spotted them and gave chase.

  "Hurry!" Dion yelled but Daedar stopped as he had something else in mind.

  "The chest you are carrying is extremely important to me. Make sure you get it to your father."

  Dion nodded, but Daedar wanted to make sure Dion understood how serious he was. He took Dion by the shoulders and shook him until Dion locked his eyes on him.

  "You must guard the contents of the chest with your life."

  Daedar paused for a moment after he spoke, realizing the severity of his words, and that it was his grandson he was talking to.

  "I will stay here and do my best to ensure it doesn't come to that. Nonetheless, you have to get the chest to your father. If you cannot reach safety with the chest - destroy it and its contents, but wait for the last possible moment to do so or even better, wait a while longer."

  "Why don't you come with me?" Dion asked.

  Daedar laughed.

  "You forgot your legs are younger than mine? You'll have a much better chance if I remain here and hold them back."

  "But, grandfather..." Dion tried again, but Daedar stopped him quickly.

  "Go now. Don't worry about me. I won't let these rats and cutpurses get the best of me. I'll give you just enough time to make good headway, and then I plan on taking a swim in the river. She'll take me farther than my legs ever would, and I doubt they'll want to take a swim with me. Hurry now. The faster you are the more chances I have of getting out of this mess."

  "I will hold you to your word," Dion said and hugged his grandfather. He then placed the chest firmly beneath his left arm and started running.

  Dion almost reached the river when a shout came from behind his back commanding him to stop. Dion stopped and turned to face the voice and saw a gray figure on a boar as large as any horse, hiding in what shadows remained in the burning village. The figure commanded the boar nearer to Dion.

  "That thing you carry belongs to me." The figure first looked at the chest in Dion's hands, and then raised its eyes to meet Dion's. These were no eyes Dion ever saw in his life before - black as night, with pupils so large they filled the entire eye socket.

  "You are mistaken. It belongs to my grandfather," Dion responded, wanting to move away from the figure.

  White leather boots commanded the boar even nearer to Dion, and the blue-gray lips of the mounted figure tightened to form an unpleasant smile.

  "Your grandfather?" the creature inquired still smiling, and this time Dion noticed the weird accent in which it spoke.

  Dion grasped his sword and took a few steps back. He dared not turn his back and run.

  "It's wonderful when things go better than planned." The figure dismounted and pulled the sword leisurely out of its sheath.

  "And they say that the gods gave you all the good fortune," it continued speaking as it walked towards Dion.

  Dion tried to match its movements - each step the figure took towards him, Dion took one back, but the figure's larger stride kept reducing the distance between them.

  They were less than a dozen steps apart when Daedar came running towards them.

  "Grandfather!" Dion shouted greatly relieved when he saw Daedar behind the gray figure.

  The figure stopped advancing and turned to face Daedar. Their eyes met, and unlike his grandson, Daedar knew at once who the figure was. He grew pale for a moment, his feet uncontrollably stumbled, but then regained his color and footing a moment after. Dion noticed, and it sent a chill through him.

  "You shouldn't be surprised to see me," remarked the figure, also noticing the old man's reaction.

  "It was just a matter of time before we returned to retake what is ours."

  "It is not yours and never was," Daedar replied coldly as he was shifting to the left, trying to get closer to Dion, but the figure wouldn't let him, matching each step he took.

  "This is between the two of us. Let the boy go."

  The figure snickered.

  "I'd rather deal with both of you right now. However, seeing the sorry state of your offspring, I don't really care about him. Your death will suffice for now."

  "Run, Dion. Run!" Daedar yelled as he started running straight
towards the figure.

  Surprised by this, the creature could but sound a whistle before Daedar was upon him, sword clashing with sword.

  Dion just stood there, watching the two exchange blows, when he heard his grandfather speak again.

  "Go at once! Listen to me...aaah."

  Daedar's words were broken by a cut across his right forearm.

  Dion finally obeyed his grandfather's commands, and contrary to all his thoughts and desires he started running towards the river. All the while he kept listening to what was happening behind him, fearing the worst.

  The noise of the fighting behind his back was increased by many running feet. He glanced back and saw at least half a dozen soldiers following him at a quick pace.

  He was past the last house and was finally at the river bank. A group of villagers was some distance away from him, busy crossing the river.

  He started worrying when he realized that each breath he took was an effort. The spring air now felt like cold eels slithering down his nose and throat, freezing his lungs. He knew he cannot succumb to weariness, but he was also aware that he is not going to last much longer.

  He quickly ran knee-deep into the river, but the joined efforts of the current and the soft sand slowed him down considerably. He trod carefully through now waist-deep water, so as not to have some hidden stone throw him off balance.

  He checked his surroundings again. Those coming after him still hadn't reached the river, and the villagers in front of him were winning against the thawed snow of far-away mountains. They were holding onto each other tightly to brave the current more easily, carrying the smallest children on their backs or shoulders.

  Dion sped up towards them and was soon on the first of the two islets located in this part of the river. He grabbed at thin willow branches to help himself out of the water over the heavily trodden sand. He placed the chest under his right arm, hoping this would help him keep the chest and satchel dry.

  He heard splashing of water not very far behind him. They were closing in on him. He ran across the islet quickly, hindered slightly here and there by a rogue shrub sticking out of the sand.

  The river was deeper on this side of the islet. It came up almost to his chest in places, bringing discomfort from the cold along with it. He started paddling with his left hand, which seemingly helped him cross the freezing river.

  He could hear them getting closer even though the river murmured loudly close to his ears. He heard footsteps on the sand, and the splashing of water. They crossed the islet, and Dion felt panic settle in. He was alone in the middle of the river, and they were too fast. He desperately wanted to see how many there were behind him, but he knew that would just waste time and slow him down even more. He jumped off the river bottom as much as he could, and paddled strongly with the free hand, and then jumped again. It helped to quicken the pace a bit, but his muscles were suffering and the beats of his heart were drumming in his ears.

  "Mom! Mom! Someone's coming."

  Surprised, Dion looked up from the river surface. In front of him, a few feet away, were two small boys. They were watching him from the second islet, and after a second look he recognized them, as they did him. A group of villagers appeared and started dragging them away towards the north but one woman stayed behind. She bent and picked up a sizable rock, and then headed straight towards Dion.

  "Stop! It's me!" Dion shouted to the woman as he neared the islet, but she was already knee-deep in the river and was still coming towards him.

  He knew he shouldn't submerge, but that seemed like his only option now if he was to save himself. He was about to do just that to avoid the rock when he noticed that the woman, now almost upon him, was looking behind him.

  "I know!" she answered finally as the rock left her hand and whizzed past Dion's head. The rock's target was the head of the nearest soldier, and it reached it. The rock and the soldier fell together into the river.

  "There's one more behind you!" she yelled and continued deeper into the river towards Dion, but it was too late.

  Dion felt pressure on his right shoulder and realized that the soldier had grabbed the satchel. A moment later the pressure disappeared, and he immediately knew what had happened - he lost the satchel!

  He turned to face the pursuer to find him holding Daedar's satchel in his hands. A torn strap hung from the half-opened satchel and was twisted and pulled by the flow of the water.

  Their eyes finally met and both knew at once what was going to happen. The pursuer went for the sword with his free hand which was not sword-trained. Dion clasped the chest with both hands, raised it above his head and smashed it with all his strength into the soldier's face.

  A crack was heard when both the bottom of the chest and the soldier's face broke. The unconscious soldier fell back into the river and the satchel went with him. Dion almost fell after him, but the sharp pain in the muscles of his back just managed to keep him on his feet.

  The satchel and the maps disappeared beneath the soldier's body in the dark waters of the river. He tried for the body before it floated away, but didn't have enough strength left in one available arm to hold onto it and the current quickly took it downstream into the night.

  Dion's eyes skimmed over the feebly lit surface of the river in search of the satchel. He held onto hope that he would manage to keep his word to Daedar. He wanted dearly not to have lost that which his grandfather gave to him at the cost of his own life.

  "Why are you standing there? Come on!" The woman sounded impatient and upset.

  He looked at her, still trying to decide what to do. She gestured at him to hurry up and come towards her for she saw more pursuers coming their way. Finally, he gripped the chest even more tightly and went towards her.

  When she took hold of his hand he nodded thankfully and they climbed onto the north islet. The islet was around twenty feet wide at that point and they crossed it quickly and were back in the water. The remaining section of the river was both narrow and shallow and they moved fast.

  A strong male voice broke the short-lived silence. It came from the river bank, a short distance downstream from them.

  "Dion! Over here!"

  Dion recognized the voice. Kerkio stood on the bank above the rocks over which they were to climb up.

  "Come on! Quickly!" Kerkio called them while keeping an eye on the pursuers whose number increased despite the losses.

  "Come!" he shouted and fired an arrow. A short scream came from the islet followed by an unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground. Then another whizz was heard and a moment later another arrow-struck body fell to the ground. Kerkio stood ready for the next one who dared to come close, but none came.

  The woman climbed up the bank, and Dion followed as best as he could. He was freezing and hungry and his arms began disobeying him. The muscles of his right arm were twitching from the effort to keep the chest safely in place, and those of his left arm were quivering uncontrollably, but still they managed to drag him over the slippery rocks up the riverbank.

  He growled, not out of anger, but out of pure misery and with a final pull he was out of the river and on the grass at Kerkio's feet. Kerkio, greatly relieved to see him, helped Dion up and allowed himself a quick smile, more clearly seen in his eyes than on his lips.

  "Where is your grandfather?" His mouth voiced the question to the end, but he already understood what had happened when Dion turned his eyes away in the middle of the question.

  "Damnation! You crazy old ... ah!" he howled towards the village.

  "Why did I listen to you!?"

  Dion tried to contain himself but couldn't, and a sob burst out of him. All the rage disappeared from Kerkio when he heard Dion, and he turned and put one of his arms on Dion's shoulder. He shook Dion gently, trying to calm him down and encourage him to move forward.

  "Come, you two," the woman said and entered the forest without waiting for them.

  "I know you're tired and sad, I can see that, but we have to move,"
said Kerkio and pushed Dion towards the forest. As soon as they moved behind a few trees they heard many feet running into the water.

  "Can you run?" Kerkio asked Dion.

  "No," Dion sighed, still avoiding eye contact to hide teary eyes," but it seems I have to." He put the chest on the ground so he could take off the wet shirt that consumed his body heat. He threw the shirt away, picked up the chest and ran after Kerkio.

  For a time they saw woman's figure in front of them and followed it, but she quickly disappeared in the thicker part of the forest where neither the light of the burning village nor the Nightlight penetrated.

  "Quicker, Dion. Quicker!" Kerkio tried to get them deeper into the forest, away from the pursuers.

  "Can't." He panted painfully while saying that. "We have to stop for a mo..."

  "Silence!" Kerkio ordered with a harsh whisper and stopped them both.

  "What?"

  "Silence," Kerkio repeated and focused on the darkness on their right. He thought he had heard something and was hoping to hear it again.

  "Yes, they are still behind us," Dion said after a few moments of careful listening.

  "I know that, but I think I heard..." Kerkio cut short his reply.

  "There! Horses!" he whispered urgently and grabbed Dion by the shoulder.

  "Horses," he repeated, wondering what to do, and then it became clear that they had no time for thinking.

  "Quickly!" he ordered Dion and pulled him along, and his voice awoke the forest.

  Many voices answered from the forest behind them, and the horses on their right became louder. They were closing in.

  They ran as fast as Dion's fatigued leaden legs allowed, and with each step their speed dwindled. Dion just kept looking at the ground in front, concentrating only on the next step he had to take.

  It was clear to Kerkio that they weren't going to reach the villagers in front of them, and that they surely wouldn't reach the village of Upper Lorei. He was also aware that Dion could barely breathe right now; fighting was out of the question.

  "Stop," Kerkio ordered them both to a halt when he noticed a part of the forest into which even his eyes, already accustomed to darkness, could not penetrate.