Battle of Nyeg Warl

by Rex Hazelton

  “I honestly don't know,” Grour Blood replied. “But we've learned never to underestimate Ab'Don's power. Not all the blood who go on their journey following the Rites of Passage, return to Stromane's white cliffs. We don't know why this is so, but our memories are not short. Nevertheless, the hideous act of griffin killing griffin has inflicted a wound on the Community of Blood that Parm Warl's Magic will one day heal. Take care, Muriel Blood, for we have placed our hopes in you,” the mighty griffin added.

  Then every muscle in the great beast's body tightened as if he were about to roar again. Instead, he began to sing in a low rumbling voice:

  Our claws were stained in griffin blood as on the heights we wept,

  And gazed upon our vanquished foe who on the plains now slept,

  We bellowed loud against the storm whose winds had swept us up,

  And carried us like wingless chaff into the blood-filled cup.

  There we met a fearsome foe with fangs and claws like ours,

  To tear and shred in merciless rage the beauty of the stars,

  And cast to ground like lightning bolts the diamonds from our crown,

  Into deep mud washed in warrior's blood our innocence did drown.

  Our broken hearts within our breasts beat like hammers on the tongs,

  That molds and shapes the glowing steel when dirges turn to songs,

  Whose verses call upon sweet magic to remedy our ills,

  And comfort us in our woe, Stromane's white cliffs to heal.

  And then a tiny light appeared to ease our crippling pain,

  And promised us that life would rise to wash away our stains,

  It said a prophetess would come with a hammer in her hand,

  And sing a song and strike the blow that would heal our land.

  Grour Blood smiled at Muriel Blood as he sang the last refrains of the prophetic song, causing her to ask, “You think the song is about me, don't you?”

  “No, not you alone, it's also about the Community of Blood, Nyeg Warl, Ar Warl, the islands of the seas and the magic of life itself,” her winged-guardian answered.

  “The tiny light your song mentions, reminds me of the light that came to Stromane and led you to me.” Muriel spoke as she considered the tapestry of events that had taken place in her life.

  It was well into the afternoon by the time the two had finished talking. Once Muriel Blood and Grour Blood hugged one another, the huge griffin concluded. “Little Sister, trust in Vav and his family and in no one else until I return. Enjoy your aunt Myra and her family, but guard your words carefully whenever they inquire about your past. I'm not yet convinced they're safe.”

  Muriel emerged from the forest and walked onto the road leading back to Barm. Unlike the day before, many of the farmers lifted their heads when she passed by their fields. Recognizing her uncle Vav in the distance, the two waved at each other.

  After passing over the bridge, crossing the Fyne River, and taking her first steps on the cobblestones paving the main road cutting through the center of the village, a horse carrying the man in the bluish-gray cloak came bursting out of an alleyway like a bat flying out of a cave. Seeing Muriel, the horseman rode over and bumped her with the side of his mount hard enough to make her stumble to the ground. Having accomplished this calculated act of intimidation, the man sadistically tipped his wide-brimmed hat. Then turning his chestnut-colored steed about, he sped away in the opposite direction. The powerful animal's hoofbeats, sounding chaotic as they furiously struck the cobblestones, sent sparks flying into the air. Several women, opening their doors as the thundering clatter passed by their homes, watched Muriel scraping herself up off of the road. Dusting her pretty blue dress off the startled woman thought, What was that all about?

  If someone could have answered her question, Muriel would have rushed right back to Grour Blood and warn him about what was happening, and the mighty griffin would have cut his trip short. But Muriel was clueless to the events that had transpired in Barm while she spent time with her winged-guardian. Little could she have guessed, as she waswarmly greeted by her cousin, all that Anna had done during her visit with her boyfriend Clouse.

  Chapter 18: The Society of Truth

  “She asked you what?” Clouse hurled his question at Anna.

  Perturbed by her boyfriend's angry outburst, Anna tried explaining. “She said, 'What if I told you I had seen the black boogie men?' It was only a question.”

  “Insidious lies!” Clouse made his proclamation with all the righteous indignation he could muster. “I'll not have her fill your head with such falsehoods. It's an ill wind that blows your cousin out of her grave and into Barm I tell you!”

  Clouse paused and pulled on his wispy beard as he tried to piece the puzzle together. In time, he lifted his hand, like a barrister wanting to make a point before the judge. “Who's to say she's really your cousin? What if she weren't?”

  “But my mother says she's the spitting image of my uncle Laz.”

  “That may well be,” Clouse felt pleased with himself as he added, “but your uncle's only your uncle by marriage… right? What if this girl, who claims to be your aunt Mara's child, is not related to her at all but is really the bastard daughter of Laz and some whore?”

  “Come off of it, Clouse!” Anna, disturbed by her boyfriend's rash absurdity, shot back. “That's ridiculous!”

  “You won't think it's ridiculous after the Society gets through with that lying wench.” Clouse was getting agitated because Anna was not easily falling in line with his point of view. “Captain Fadoris will find out who she really is. You'll see.”

  “Please don't tell Fadoris what I've told you about my cousin,” Anna pleaded. The thought of the meddlesome captain sent a foreboding chill running down her spine.

  “Anna, listen to me.” Clouse tried to convince his girlfriend about the merits of his way of thinking. “She's not your cousin. Most likely she's an impostor who's acting as an agent for the treasonous Forest People. No doubt, she's setting the table so we'll believe the more outlandish lies that they tell.”

  The Forest People, an eclectic group of people who lived together in small woodland villages, were scattered throughout Nyeg Warl like pepper thrown on a salad. A dour relationship to either Schmar or Koyer was their common bond, a relationship marked by the atrocities that were perpetrated against them. Having the audacity to talk about the darkness they encountered, these were ultimately forced to leave their homes and live among others who were outcasts like themselves. It was this enigmatic group Clouse was trying to identify Muriel with, knowing as soon as a connection could be made that most of the villagers would write her off as being a troublemaker.

  “Please don't tell Fadoris.” Anna tried to persuade her boyfriend. “He scares me. I've seen what he can do.” Anna began fidgeting about. “What if he ties my family in with Muriel and decides to discredit all of us?”

  “Well, that will depend on how your folks respond to his inquiries,” Clouse explained in a weak attempt to reassure Anna. “If they try to protect Muriel, then they could pay for their error. If they allow Fadoris to go about his business unhindered, I'm sure you and your family will be fine.”

  “But what about Briney Gruff?” Anna now looked visibly scared. “Don't you remember how Fadoris accused his entire family of commiting sedition for the things his son was saying.”

  “By the Fires of Darkness, Anna, that young whelp was publicly criticizing the Society of Truth.” Clouse's sense of righteous indignation returned in full force. “If Briney hadn't stepped in to protect his son, he would have only been publicly reprimanded and appropriately ridiculed. But Briney's stubborn resistance made Fadoris question his motives. And sure enough, after just a little digging, the Society discovered his grandmother had once lived among the Forest People.”

  “I know all about it Clouse,” Anna argued. “I also remember how Briney denied that his grandmother had ever lived with the Forest People. But since no one in Barm had ever been
to Cumbernor, where his grandmother had come from, it was just his word against the Society's. That seems unfair to me.”

  “Unfair! Is it unfair to turn the light of truth on the lies that were being told? Briney Gruff was just a snake in the grass who hadn't struck yet. The Society did Barm a favor by digging him out of his hiding place and showing the people who he and his family really were.”

  “Clouse, what if Fadoris tries to dig up things on my family and says that he has found information like he did on Briney that can neither be proven or disproven, will you believe him or me?

  I'll believe the truth, and the Society is devoted to the truth,” Clouse proudly proclaimed. “Don't worry, Anna, you and your folks aren't the problem… Muriel is.”

  Later that morning, Anna's boyfriend was knocking on Fadoris' door.

  “Welcome, Clouse. Have you finally decided to officially join our ranks?” Fadoris' efficient nature forced him to the point.

  The captain's question made the young man feel important. So right then and there, he decided to join the Society, just as soon as his father gave his approval. Resentment welled up in the young man as he thought how his father never gave him the kind of respect Fadoris did. Imagining how impressive he would look standing in front of his parents draped in the distinguished bluish-gray cloak worn by those in the Society, Clouse thought, I'll show him!

  “Well!?” The captain prodded his guest.

  Shaken from his daydreaming, Clouse hurriedly replied, “No, not yet. Though there's nothing I would like more. Today, I have news about the stranger.”

  “How interesting! Come lad and let's have ourselves a talk.” Fadoris magnanimously swept his arm across the room, inviting the young man to sit down.

  In a moment's time, the two were seated at the communal dining table. Other soldiers, attended to their needs, bringing them lunch. Fadoris allowed Clouse time to eat some of his meal before pressing him further, knowing the food's affects would make him more amenable to talking.

  Satisfied the time was right, the captain quizzed his guest. “So, what do you want to tell me, good Clouse?”

  “Well Sir, earlier today I had a most distressing talk with my girlfriend.” The young man's sense of importance grew as he realized that he held Fadoris' absolute attention, something his father never gave him. “This woman, who calls herself Muriel, forced Anna to talk about forbidden things.”

  “Go on.” Fadoris encouraged Clouse while refilling his cup with apricot nectar. “What forbidden things are we talking about?”

  “Muriel asked Anna if she would believe her if she said she had seen the black boogie men.” Clouse tried to look as mature as he could when he made this statement.

  “Ah, I see,” Fadoris replied. “They tell the same lie over-and-over again. You'd think these beggars would come up with something better.” Scowling, the captain said, “Those insidious Forest People… if I had my way, we'd have hunted them all down and put them in chains long ago. And the Singer would have thanked us for doing it.”

  “So, you think she's an agent of the Forest People?” Clouse asked, shaking his head in agreement before Fadoris had time to answer.

  “Of course, she is!” The captain spat out his words. “I've seen this same scam at least a dozen other times.”

  “This is how it goes.” Fadoris spoke with the certitude of one who feels their beliefs were above question. “A person presumed dead, after having been missing for an extended period of time, mysteriously shows up again. But so much time has passed since they were last seen, no one can really know for certain if they are the missing person or not. Armed with information about the individual in question- things they, no doubt, jogged loose from the memories of some relative or friend of the family who no longer lives in the area- they use this knowledge to verify their claim. Once people accept them as being the missing person, they start slipping in lies they hope will destabilize the village's peace.”

  Lifting his eyebrows, he sighed before speaking again. “It would all be quite ingenuous, if it weren't so redundant.”

  “That's how Muriel's trying to pull this off, huh?” Clouse was awestruck by Fadoris' intelligence.

  The commander, playing off the obvious admiration Clouse was exhibiting towards him, adjusted his words accordingly. “I'd have no problem dealing with this Muriel person myself, if I hadn't received orders about her.”

  The idea that Fadoris had to answer to others with more authority than himself had never entered the farm boy's mind. Surprisingly enough, this didn't deflate his view of the commander's importance but increased his respect for the Society, an organization he now realized was much greater than he had suspected.

  “What orders are you talking about?” Clouse knew he was walking on thin ice by asking this question.

  “A little over a year ago, instructions were sent out to the Society's different chapters, warning us about the Forest People's plans to send out a special agent. They described her as being roughly twenty-summers old, beautiful, with black hair and brown eyes. We were told to expect her to tell the most salacious of lies. They also gave us specific orders to contact them if the agent showed up, and not to take matters into our own hands.”

  Clouse was pleased to discover that the ice he was standing on was much thicker than he thought. This realization only made the admiration he felt for the commander increase. The more I listen to Fadoris, the more I want to be like him. He's so sure of himself. No wonder men follow him.

  “I knew it was her yesterday morning at Ivy's Inn,” Fadoris looked pleased that his powers of discernment had been verified. “But I wanted to make certain before I left for the Eyrie of the Eagle to report my findings. Now, having heard you tell your story, I'll be off before the afternoon is over.”

  Nodding to a subordinate, Fadoris took a small purse of coins he handed him. Giving them to Clouse, he extended his other hand in gratitude before he had the young farmer escorted outside. The combination of the coins and Fadoris' candid conversation overshadowed his brisk dismissal.

  ****

  Muriel decided to keep a low profile while Grour Blood was gone, so she kept the conversations focused on her relatives and the villagers they lived with. This was easier to do than she had anticipated, since the people of Barm loved talking about themselves.

  Muriel was like a child in a candy store, sitting and listening to all the stories and recollections the people loved telling. Though often quaint and lacking in drama, to her the stories were like savory confections representing a life she had never known. Even the most mundane tale was a wonderful revelation that helped remove the veil from what might have been. Her uncluttered mind soaked up this information at an amazing rate as she tried to make sense of a warl she knew she belonged in.

  In just a handful of days, Muriel found herself bonding with this amiable community, nestled on the banks of the Fyne River. She came to know people like Gus, who each morning fed bread crumbs to the birds that gathered on Barm's lone cobblestone street. She had also become fond of young Haryn who felt it was his duty to keep watch over the village's children, making certain no harm came to them. Every time Muriel thought of the story that Layrn, Haryn's best friend, told to poke fun at his exaggerated sense of responsibility, she couldn't help laughing.

  “One day, last summer, when the children were fishing off the bridge,” Laryn's eyes were opened as wide as possible to add excitement, while his jaw muscles worked hard to keep his mouth from breaking into a smile, “Haryn felt they were carelessly casting their hooks about. So, he rushed up to them and shouted…” trying to mimic Haryn's serious expression, Layrn exclaimed, “'STOP IT NOW! You're going to hook someone!' He was mad, I mean really mad. But before he had finished his tirade, little Ruddy whipped his pole back over his head, hard. I tell you, he was getting ready to throw his bait all the way to where the Fyne River meets the Dyne. But instead of catching a fish, he hooked Haryn right in the nose.” Ha! Ha! Ha! The floodgates of amusement had finall
y opened. “You should have seen the look on his face.” Laryn slapped Haryn on the back, enjoying the memory. “Muriel, he just stood there behind little Ruddy his arms hanging limply by his sides, not saying a word. I mean, I half expected him to jump into the air and shake his body like a fish trying to throw a hook.” Ha! Ha! Ha!

  Giving his imagination further slack, the young man added, “Can you just see him laying on the ground with his mouth and eyes wide open, looking like the biggest catch of the day?”

  “Come on Laryn,” Haryn complained. “It was dangerous. The kids could have been hurt.”

  “The only one who was in danger was you.” Laryn nearly doubled over laughing. “If I hadn't stopped Ruger, I swear he would have gutted and mounted you over his fireplace.”

  “Oh, come on!” Haryn almost shouted his words. “That never happened! Ruger wasn't even there!”

  “And aren't you glad. You would have been in trouble if he were.” Laryn hooked his finger in his mouth and shook his head, as he concluded his story.

  Muriel laughed when Layrn put his arms against his sides and flapped his body about, leaping about like a fish.

  ****

  For five days Muriel basked in the warmth radiating from human companionship. A reoccurring nightmare was the lone fly in the healing ointment her stay in Barm had, otherwise, provided.

  In this dream, Muriel found herself standing on a jagged precipice, one jutting above Stromane's crystalline cliffs, while darkness descended on the dizzying heights. The utter loneliness she felt was stifling, making her gasp for air that seemed too thick to breathe. One-by-one, she shouted the names of her winged-friends. But none showed up to relieve her growing anxiety. In the ensuing silence, a cold wind, blowing out from the interior of the island, carried a whispering voice that called her name. Turning away from the sea's dark waters, searching the heart of the island, trying to discover who had spoken to her, Muriel saw a glowing orb bouncing towards her.

  What's that, she asked, hoping it represented help; but the increasing uneasiness Muriel felt told her something was amiss. Watching the bounding sphere draw nearer, growing in size as it came, she cringed when it took on the shape of a face that was milky-white and menacing. The bluish-grey cape fluttering behind the figure told Muriel its owner was one of the Soldiers of Truth. Then, before she had time to prepare for the unprovoked attack, the tall man rushed forward and shoved her over the cliff's edge. Poisonous laughter followed her plummeting fall, cruel laughter that pushed her ever faster towards the rocks below. But just before striking the ground, Muriel would wake up, every time.