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1 - The Ivory Plain |
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2 - The Journey Begins |
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3 - The City of Princes |
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4 - The Mountain Village |
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5 - The Road Divides |
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6 - Comrades in Arms |
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7 - The Pass of Silence |
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8 - The Ivory Towers |
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9 - The Union |
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2 - The Journey Begins
Chapter 2: The Journey Begins
It rained the day Eldar led her little band of warriors out of the village of Tavos. They rode upon shaggy-haired, sturdy hill ponies, the few the village possessed, yet their owners had parted with them willingly. There were smiles and cheers for the travellers as they rode through the village, and kisses for the warriors who followed Eldar. Hope was written plainly on each upturned face as the harassed villagers watched the riders leave. Eldar felt her throat constrict as the memory of those faces was indelibly printed on her heart. The crowd threw flowers under the ponies hooves, waving and shouting blessings and prayers until the warriors that carried their hopes and dreams were out of sight. As the tiny group picked their way up the stony, hard track leading north, Eldar mentally looked over the men who had volunteered to accompany her.
Behind her rode Malek. A short, thick-set man, with muscles that bulged hugely under the sleeves of his tunic. He sat his horse as if it was second nature and walked with a bow-legged strut when out of the saddle. His biceps held so much strength he was able to swing a battle axe as if it were a mere twig. Eldar felt that he was dependable and trust-worthy though a little short-tempered at times. Malek had a good sense of humour and a deep belly laugh that made all who heard it laugh with him. Eldar liked him and felt secure when his bulky form rode beside her.
Behind Malek, side by side, rode the Torrent brothers, Maxe and Bram. They were the sons of the village blacksmith. Tall, well built and handsome lads in their early twenties, they had a keen sense of the mischievous. Both were experienced strong fighters and carried mighty broadswords forged for them in the white heat of their father’s forge and inscribed with the Lord’s Prayer. The brothers were garrulous and cracked jokes continually. Eldar thought they were like a pair of gossipy old women, but this fault was more than erased by the loyalty that they showed towards one another and, as Eldar was to find, to her.
Then there was Shandyke, a slim, pale youth of Eldar’s own age. He was educated having been sent away to the Isle of the Hand for the best schooling available. He was able to use a compass, could read maps and the stars. He wanted to chart their journey and make new scrolls of the geography of the land they passed through. He had no fighting talent but could wield a sword well enough if forced to. His task was to get them to the Ivory Towers without getting lost. Eldar felt guilty that she thought him weak and too full of his own importance to be of any real use. She distrusted him and felt he would crack if called upon in a time of need.
The last two riders were men she hardly knew. Barin was a man of strong principles and morals, who took an active part in the village councils and the church. Eldar had liked him enormously from the start and felt she could trust him and that his judgement would be sound, although sometimes a little cautious. The other rider was Rindith, the only non believer of the travellers. He was looking for adventure and excitement, fame and fortune, and believed the adventure to the Ivory Towers would provide what he wanted. Eldar longed to have the chance to share about the Lord with him and bring him to God, but felt that unless he opened up and asked her questions it was a hard task she had ahead of her. Instead she included him regularly in her prayers that God would touch him and open Rindith’s heart to hear His voice.
Six men, thought Eldar sadly, only six. True, they had all volunteered, but she had hoped for a small army to antagonise the Lord of Death, for strength in numbers in which she could hide her fear. But these men were those that God had given her. She had no way of knowing what would happen to them once they had stepped out of civilisation as they knew it and into the unknown. They knew that the Holy Forest lay between them and the Plain, and that was one of their greatest fears. Few who had ventured into the Forest had ever returned to tell the tale, and those who had were without exception, mad.
Shandyke had mapped their route during one of the meetings to plan and discuss provisions and transport. The quickest way would be to go north to the Mountains of Anger and then north east through the Holy Forest. By travelling through the mountains Shandyke was convinced that they would cut out several weeks of unnecessary travel in the Wastelands of Artura. The men had merely looked at Eldar when Shandyke had put his plans to the travellers and Eldar had felt forced to make the decision on behalf of the group despite her ignorance. The knowledge that these men were following her to almost certain death made Eldar quake with terrible guilt that she could be the cause of their death.
The days preceding their departure had been riddled with packing, anxiety and tearful goodbyes. Provisions had been given gladly by the merchants in the village and Eldar had been busy taking an inventory and packing the goods with the village women as evenly as they could in well-oiled skins to protect the dry goods from bad weather. Each traveller was to carry enough to sustain himself for three weeks, four if used sparingly. Eldar wanted each man to have enough provisions to last him should he be lost from the group at any time. The provisions were packed into saddlebags to be hung over the cantle of the saddle and firmly secured. Water bottles were to be carried by each pony as well, enough to last for several weeks. Eldar had asked everywhere for the use of a pack pony but there was none forthcoming, Tavos was poor in horseflesh after all the raids.
The travellers wore thick woven cloaks with warm linings and fur trimmed hoods pulled close around their ears. Their cloaks were fastened with small silver brooches in the shape of the cross, fashioned for them by the village blacksmith. The rain pattered down slowly soaking the soft wool darkening the colours and chilling the bodies within. As they rode Eldar tried to remember all that the Hermit had told her about the different stages of the mission.
The Hermit had mentioned to Eldar the name of a village in the foothills of the Mountains of Anger that would welcome them and give them food. The journey to the village would take a long time. It was almost impossible to judge how long the journey would take them as the land was not accurately charted. But Eldar was sure that it was several weeks away by which time their own provisions would be running low. The Hermit was sure that the nature of the village would not have changed from the time when she herself had stayed there, and she had given Eldar some names of friendly folk so that she would not appear to be a stranger. Shandyke had nodded sagely when Eldar told him where they were to make for first but his tone was insolent as he answered her. Eldar felt uncomfortable as she remembered the way his eyes had rested anywhere but on her face as he spoke to her. She shivered in the saddle as the memory came back to her. Christian he might claim to be but Shandyke didn’t seem to have changed like some of the others had. Eldar did not trust him.
The countryside was dripping with the soft rainfall yet beautiful as the ponies plodded on. The lanes, carpeted with roughly chipped stones, were dark with water and mud, and the hedgerows dripped silver and pearl raindrops into the long grass at the verge. The travellers were lucky to make the journey in late Spring with the summer weather warming the land as they travelled further north. They could hear the familiar scream of the seagulls grow fainter and the sweeter songs of the woodland birds took over as they travelled inland.
The fields were bright with new green shoots pushing their way vigorously through the earth to reach the light of day. Soft petalled yellow and purple primroses and dark blue bluebells and grape hyacinths adorned the grassy verges as they rode by. Eldar reached out and plucked some trailing white woodbine from the thorny hedge, inhaling its light fragrance before winding the clinging pale flowers into her pony’s thick brown mane. Despite the coldness of the weather and the dampness of the rain, the travellers rode on quickening the ponies’ steps. They needed to put a good thirty miles between Tavos and the Mountains of Anger on their first day.
They ate their noonday meal when Eldar had seen a milestone indicating eighteen miles from Tavos. They spread their cloaks on the mossy ground and lay for a while munching the new white bread that had been baked that morning by wives of the men of Tavos’ council and goat’s cheese, swilling mild ale and water from their water bottles. Eldar sat herself down on a small outcrop of rock laying her cloak out to dry in the rays of the sun that had finally won the struggle against the rain and shone down upon them with a valiant will. The light wind gently lifted her dark hair away from her hot cheeks and cooled her sweating forehead. Her hands were already red and sore and ached from her tight hold on the reins as she tore her bread in two and stuffed half back into the saddle bag.
Quietly she watched her men. They were lounging on the grass together sharing ale and laughing at each other’s jokes. They seemed happy and excited at the prospect of the adventure ahead and the return home as heroes. As they finished their meal, the sun and the ale lulled them one by one to sleep. Eldar watched them thinking that she would leave them for half an hour then wake them to get on. They still had a long way to travel. But the sun was too much for Eldar also and she felt her eyes closing and had no will to open them.
The sudden coldness of the evening wind across her body was what finally woke Eldar. The sun was setting on the distant horizon, the rosy golden light slipping quickly away from them. With an angry gasp Eldar sat up hurriedly and woke the men as quickly as she could. Within her heart she felt angry, not just at herself, but at them for sleeping so long. Wearily, grumbling against the cold and being woken from sleep, the warriors gathered up their few belongings and stiffly mounted their ponies.
“We’ll have to travel further while the light lasts”, called Eldar once they were all mounted, “There’s no shelter here for us for the night. If anyone sees a cave large enough to fit us and the ponies or a stable or hut, shout out and I’ll see if we can use it for the night”.
Eldar grabbed the reins of her docile pony in one hand wincing as she squeezed the sore callouses rising on her palm, and mounted with a single lithe jump. Leading the little cavalcade back onto the stony track she turned the pony’s head towards the north and kicked him onwards.
The party rode on until the full moon shone brightly on the path before them and Eldar felt her bones ache from the pounding of the pony’s hooves and knew they needed to rest soon or she would be too tired to travel tomorrow. At long last, when the hour was nearly on midnight, Malek called out, “I can see a shack in the field away to the right, shall we stop there?”
Eldar stopped her weary pony and peered into the gloom of the ploughed field where she could just make out the wooden shack that Malek had seen.
“Go and see if it is uninhabited, if it’s empty and has a roof we’ll sleep there tonight.”
The men watched Malek silently as he handed his pony’s reins to Eldar and picked his way across the field to the shadowy outhouse leaning drunkenly against the far hedge. Within a few minutes he was back.
“The place is empty, there’s a stone ring for a fireplace and the roof seems sound.”
Eldar hesitated only for a second, “Very well, we’ll sleep there. Rindith and Bram, collect some firewood, we’ll need fire to keep animals at bay. Maxe, will you heat some ale and share out the bread and cheese. Malek, you keep first watch then wake me for the second.”
She dismounted and, looping the reins over her arm led the pony over the muddy ridges of the field to the shack, the men followed her quietly. The shack was rough and crude but as Malek had said, it had a sound roof and even a heap of old blankets in one corner. Malek shook out the blankets and lay them on the grubby floor. They would at least keep the draughts out.
Once inside with the fire burning slowly from the wood Rindith and Bram had gathered, the travellers drank warm ale to keep out the chill of the night. The rain began again, playing a pattering tune on the wooden roof of the shack as they lay down near the fire huddled in their cloaks and rugs. Malek took up his post by the door where he could see across the field and the dark ribbon of the lane beyond. Cradling his bowl of ale in his hand he gazed out at the rain filled night to watch and listen.
As dawn was breaking near five o’clock in the morning, he woke Eldar and fell asleep immediately by the fire where she had left the space warm between Rindith and Barin. Eldar yawned as she took up the watch. The birds trilled madly in the dawn chorus and the sun threw gentle golden rays across the chilled, wet earth. From within a pocket in her cloak Eldar drew a slim black book, her Bible and opened it at random. The page fell open and her eyes read “Trust in the Lord and he will make your paths straight”. With a smile she closed her eyes and lifted her hands as she began to pray.
When the air was warm and the sun a little way above the horizon, Eldar guessed the time to be past eight and woke the sleeping warriors. They ate breakfast while tacking up, hard bread in one hand, the stiffened leather of bridles in the other. They were saddled and riding north again within a few minutes. The wind that day was cold, the rain had settled a frosty chill on the earth. Leather jerkins and straps had hardened in the dampness of the night and tempers were frayed. All about them the ground still shone silver with morning dew in the sunlight and the scent of the grass and hedgerows was heavy with rain. In the distance the Mountains of Anger rose into the sky almost mocking the travellers with how far away they appeared. It was the first day of May.
Eldar pulled the hood of her dark green wool travelling cloak up around her ears, fastening it at her throat with her silver brooch. She still felt bone weary. Already she felt discouraged and that her prayers would not be answered. The wind nipped at her fingers freezing the reins to her hands. Her despondency grew until her mood was black with depression. Behind her she could feel the mood of the warriors, weary and disheartened that they had travelled so little the previous day and the weight of the length of the journey began to press upon them.
Eldar was unaware that as their thoughts and moods became darker the easier it became for the Lord of Death to find them. As they plodded along she was only aware of a heaviness pressing upon her and an overwhelming desire to give up began to steal over her. It was then she heard the hooves. Four horses coming towards them down the lane. Fear suddenly gripped her heart so painfully piercing she cried out. Then the warriors heard the hooves. Malek grabbed the reins of Eldar’s pony and pulled it off the lane into the nearest field where they crouched low over the ponies necks behind the hedge in the hope that they would not be seen.
“Pray,” whispered Malek fiercely in Eldar’s ear, “Pray and praise God or the darkness you feel within you will speak to the darkness in them and they will find us”.
Trembling, filled with an unspeakable dread as she bent over her pony’s withers, Eldar prayed under her breath, God save us, Lord protect your children, Lord Jesus be with us. Eldar watched from the corner of her eye as all the men, even Rindith, bent their heads in prayer. The riders drew so close it seemed impossible that Eldar and her companions would not be seen. Eldar caught a glimpse of scarlet cloaks the colour of blood, of hatred, and of horses so deeply black they filled her mind with thoughts of death and fear. She began to pray harder whispering aloud, “Even though I walk in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me”.
The voice of the Hermit came back to her, “He cannot harm you himself, but he will send his slaves to do his work for him, the Demons of Shadray. They are slaves of his will, the spawn of Hell, brought to earth by his calling. They will find you and they will kill you if they can. As soon as you have left the protection of the Lord in Tavos they will know and will follow you to the ends of the world”. Eldar peered out at the riders through the dense leaves of the hedge and whispered, “Oh Jesus, help me!”
At her words one of the horses of the black clad riders reared. The cowl of the riders cloak was thrown back and Eldar found herself staring into the face of a skeleton. Her voice dried in her throat as she said her Lord’s name again, “Jesus, my Lord, help us”. For a few seconds the skeletal image of the riders wavered then altered into the most hideous of monsters before vanishing like smoke on the wind. A strange stench of rotting meat remained on the air turning the stomachs of the travellers who had seen the demon apparitions.
For a few minutes Eldar stayed where she crouched. Her heart pounded in her ears and she thought she would faint. Gradually, as she took deep breaths the fear ebbed away leaving her feeling weak and drained. She had to force her mind to concentrate as she felt the hollow emptiness of the skeleton’s eye sockets staring back at her in her head, boring a black cavernous hole through her thoughts. Desperately she shook her head trying to shake away the frightening image and forced herself to think of where the group could go next. If they kept to the used, clear tracks the little party would be found because they would be exposed. Shandyke would have to re-map the journey to the Mountains of Anger for the risk of continuing along the high lanes was too great.
Stealthily she crept over to where Shandyke lay tense and fearful against his pony’s quivering flank. Shandyke’s face was filled with a mixture of fear and the aftermath of praying. Eldar laid her hand on his shoulder and said comfortingly,
“They have gone now, our prayers have frightened them away. Come on now, get back on your pony, we need to find somewhere safe to discuss our change of route”.
Shandyke gathered the reins and tried to mount, failing the first time then heaving himself heavily into the saddle. Eldar turned to the others,
“Is everyone ready to go?” The men settled themselves in their saddles and nodded. “Then we shall head for that copse about two miles away. We need to rethink our route and stop for a meal.”
Within the hour they were all settled under the beech trees that made up the coppice. A small fire crackled merrily and the men toasted rashers of meat on long sticks to eat with their bread. Eldar picked up her bowl of ale and called Shandyke aside.
“Spread your scrolls here on this stump and show me what you have in mind for an alternative route”.
Shandyke reverently pulled out his scrolls and the map from his saddle bag and hurried over to her. Rolling out the parchment he placed his ale bowl on one corner and smoothed out the creases with his hand. Pointing at a faint blue line on the Hermit’s map he said,
“This is the easiest way to travel but it will be longer than we had originally wanted. We can travel through the Marsh and follow the river to reach the Lake of Joy. There should be a ferry to get us over the Marsh, or at least there was one a few years back, the last traveller from that way told me so. “
Eldar pointed at the Marsh,
“Can’t we go straight through it? Is it so very dangerous?”
Shandyke shook his head,
“The horses would drown in the quicksand, if the ferry is not there we will have to go right to the west coast and follow the coastal paths. That will add weeks to our journey. I pray the ferry will still be there.”
Shandyke opened his scroll and, having read in silence for a few minutes, said,
“If we can take the ferry, we’ll be able to ride to the City of Princes and from there to the highland village of Shalb at the foot of the Mountains of Anger.”
Eldar smiled and thanked him. As they rejoined the others crouched round the fire Eldar said to them, “Shandyke has mapped us a new route, it will take longer than before but it will be safe. Shandyke will lead us. We will leave as soon as everyone is finished. Maxe, would you make sure the fire is properly doused before our departure”.
The warriors mumbled assent at the change of plan and drank their ale hastily, shaking the dregs onto the sparse, green grass. Maxe threw a heap of soil, leaves and bark over the fire killing the flames and smoke. Then each warrior took up his pony’s reins and mounted. In single file Shandyke and Eldar led the group westwards toward the Marsh.
They could smell the Marsh long before they reached it. Horrible, putrid smells arose from the gaseous pockets that bubbled beneath the upper layers bursting on the surface in loud, disgusting burps. The foliage of the area stank with the same rotting evil stench. A reek that gripped the nostrils and challenged the stomach. Eldar felt bile rise in her throat and she swallowed quickly and uneasily.
Besides the stench, the Marsh appeared to be almost unpassable. A boggy, swampy area of land, overfed with water and silt from the Lake of Joy. There were a few stumps of trees poking their heads out of the mud and the surface water was covered with tiny mosses that made one almost believe that there was solid earth beneath the green where in fact the quicksand lay ominously waiting for the unwary. The mud itself bubbled with subaqueous gas, slimy giant creatures of unthinkable origins slithered through the sodden earth beneath the surface. The air was rank and unhealthy and when the horses slipped in the shallow mud at the edge of the Marsh it gripped their legs with a terrifying strength attempting to pull them down into the dankly evil depths.
To Eldar and Shandyke’s dismay the ferry was nowhere to be seen. Only the huge steel chains that would have supported the rough platform and dragged travellers across the Marsh were left sticking out of the deep centre still attached to the winches and pulleys on the far side and there was no bridge. Eldar called Maxe and Bram to her side,
“We need to find a way of crossing. Check this side in both directions for stepping stones or a bridge or something that will get us across.”
Maxe and Bram agreed unhesitatingly and handed their ponies reins to Malek separating at the edge of the Marsh to cover both directions. They were soon out of sight. Eldar shivered and prayed that they would be kept safe. Maxe returned first shaking his head, “There’s nothing up this way at all, the Marsh itself gets wider about three hundred yards further up. Where’s Bram?”
There was no sign of Bram. Eldar felt a quiver of uneasiness then looked at Maxe, “Do you want to go and find him? Take Barin with you and take care?”
Barin and Maxe set off along the side of the marsh following Bram’s path and choking at the bubbles that broke the surface with a smell of rotting teeth. The rest of the party settled down to wait for them.
It was nearly an hour later when all three returned. Bram was covered in mud, his jerkin torn and almost falling against Maxe with weariness. Eldar leapt up as she saw them, “Are you all unhurt? Did you find a way across?”
Maxe laid Bram down on the ground and leant him against a tree trunk.
“Yes, we found an old line of stepping stones, a double stretch that cross the whole width. That’s why we took so long, we wanted to cross it ourselves to be sure the stones went the whole way. Bram slipped and nearly fell in. We’ll have to take great care with the horses, it’s not an easy path to take.”
Eldar looked down at Bram and then at the sky, “But you say it is passable. Well, it’s too dark to attempt the journey now, we’ll rest here until daybreak and then try to cross. Shandyke, make a fire please”.
Grumbling, Shandyke tied his pony to a bush and snatched up twigs to make a fire. The party of warriors and the single girl settled down on the ground wrapped in their cloaks and saddle rugs to spend the night under the stars. Barin was left on watch.
First light found the travellers all awake ready to conquer this difficult stretch of the journey. After they had broken their fast with hard travellers’ biscuit and water, Eldar brought them together round the fire.
“We should pray before we attempt this crossing, we will need protection and boldness, even you Rindith, “ she added, as she saw Rindith scowl at the thought of wasting time praying. “Barin, would you please lead us in prayer?”
Barin nodded and bending his head, he raised his hands out and prayed for the protection of the travellers as they attempted to cross over the treacherous stones. He prayed that their feet would be sure and safe and that each one would not falter. Hesitantly the other members of the party joined in and prayed for their safety as well.
When they had finished a strange peace had descended upon the party, even Rindith seemed touched by the strange glow that lit the faces of the others. Eldar slowly got to her feet and said, “We’ll ride the ponies to the stepping stones and then lead them across. Maxe and Bram, would you like to lead the way?”
The little party mounted their shaggy ponies and, following the swaying rump of the one in front, they travelled in single file to the double line of stepping stones. When they reached the edge of the swamp where the stones sprouted like grey mushrooms above the mud Eldar stared in despair. In places the mud had covered the stones making the crossing slippery and more dangerous. Even as she watched she saw slimy tentacles slip over the stones as some gruesome, evil monster heaved and moved beneath the grey-brown surface. With a sinking heart she knew that to install courage in the men who followed her she would have to be the first to place her life on the mottled grey stones. Turning in the saddle she addressed the warriors,
“I shall cross first, then Malek, Shandyke, Maxe, Barin, Bram and then Rindith.”
As Rindith began to grumble about being last, Eldar raised her hand to obtain quiet among them,
“Please do not fight about your place in the line, it will be hard for us all. Go slowly and carefully. Is everyone ready?”
One by one the warriors nodded assent and watched as Eldar resolutely, with her heart in her mouth, stepped tentatively on to the first pair of stepping stones with her pony’s reins looped twice round her left arm. Testing each stone before moving forward she slowly gained upon the other side. Her pony, its nostrils irritated by the bubbling mud that broke with the stench of sulphur beneath it tossed its head against her only yards away from the edge causing her to stumble and fall to her knees on the rock. For a few seconds she knelt there the panic swirling in gusts around her, then she reached inside her soul and prayed for strength and boldness, telling herself, I will reach my goal. As she rose to her feet and stepped onto the next stone, a huge grey-green man-eating eel lashed its tail over the very spot where she had knelt, frightening her pony and pushing Eldar on to make the last five yards to reach the northern side in safety.
One by one and with intense care the men followed her. It seemed years before they had all crossed safely but by the time the sun was high above them, making them sweat with a mixture of heat and fear, they all rested on the north side leaning against the trees as they breathed noisily with relief. Each man prayed in his own way giving thanks to Jesus for their protection and safety before Eldar insisted they head on towards the Lake of Joy.
The land on the northern side of the Marsh was lush and beautiful, irrigated as it was from the Lake of Joy. The smooth, gently rising ground made the midday riding comfortable and the travellers set a good pace for the rest of the day, pitching camp at nightfall within sight of the green, clear waters of the Lake.
They made their camp within the shelter of a knot of trees. Bram had caught a couple of rabbits with his bow and arrows on the journey and, once Eldar had skinned and gutted them, Barin and Shandyke set the pieces on sticks to roast over the fire. The mood of the evening was companionable and friendly. After the ale was drunk Rindith began to sing an old folk song of Tavos and the others joined in until even the nightingales were silenced by the rousing song sung in a mix of male voices. Feeling pleased with themselves the group settled down to sleep.
Midnight! Maxe was on watch. He sat quietly on a grassy hummock a few feet away from the sleeping forms of his fellow travellers. His head was full of thoughts of things he had seen during the day. A keen artist Maxe had agreed to illustrate Shandyke’s geographical scrolls and he was already picturing how the sketches in charcoal would appear. In the quietness of the night the bushes swayed gently in the cool breeze, a solitary nightingale hidden in the budding branches of the oak above him began to sing. Maxe let his senses relax as peace stole over him. It was a moment that was to cost him dear.
From somewhere deep among the trees the deadly dart was fired. It flew unerringly towards Maxe and struck him deeply piercing his jerkin at the thigh and entering the skin. The black, deadly drug carried on the pin-sharp head of the dart flowed swiftly into the bloodstream carrying its deadly poison inwards and upwards. Maxe managed to shout once before he felt overcome by the drug and slumped unconscious on the earth.
Eldar was awake in an instant and ran to his side, her small sword already clutched in her hand. She heard the squealing of the ponies as their reins were cut and they were chased away. She could hear them neighing madly with fright as they galloped towards the Lake of Joy. The other men were quickly awake and fanned out across the knoll trying to see who had committed this dark deed. Eldar looked at Maxe whose face was green, his left hand clutching at his right thigh. Eldar prised his fingers away and saw the black feathered flights of the dart still sticking through his jerkin. As the others crowded round with questions she released the dart with a sudden twist of her wrist. Blood seeped sluggishly from the tiny wound. As she straightened up and threw the dart into the hot embers of the fire, Barin touched her wrist gently and whispered hoarsely,
“Don’t make any rash move. There’s something in the trees over there to the west side. Be careful, maybe the Demons of Shadray have caught up with us.”
Eldar shivered and stiffened her spine. From out of the darkness of the trees a black, billowy, clouded form was taking vague shape. Hideous and stinking of evil, it rose and grew until it towered above the group of travellers. In the light of the glowing ashes they could barely make out its face. Shaped like a wolf’s head the beast carried the features of a distorted human face. Eldar swallowed and caught at Barin’s hand as he was nearest to her, “What in the name of Heaven is it?” she gasped.
“I don’t know, but at least it isn’t the Demons. Whatever it is it stinks with evil. We will have to kill it, if we can”.
Barin made a silent gesture to Bram and Rindith, all three stepped cautiously forward, swords held tightly grasped. As Barin drew his axe from his belt the monster’s eyes swivelled in its ghastly sockets turned to fix a red, malevolent glare upon him. Fear welled inside Barin as he faced the evil creature. Malek lifted his bow and strung it ready with a precious silver tipped arrow. And the fight began!
Malek threw his axe with accuracy towards the wolf’s head and buried it deep within the monster’s skull. Yet the blow only halted the creature for a moment. It bore down on the warriors screaming its agony and rage. Swords were swung against the exposed belly slashing it. Swinging madly in its rage and pain, the beast caught Bram on the shoulder, the flesh parted like butter under a hot knife as the monster laid it open with claws as thick as a man’s thumb. Bram fell back towards the fire and dropped to the ground unconscious. Shandyke caught up Bram’s fallen broadsword and waded in to tackle the creature at close quarters. Malek, unable to release his axe from the monster’s skull ran under the beasts flailing arms and stabbed with his dagger at the creature’s legs. Black, stinking blood poured from the monster’s wounds soaking into the ground and killing the vegetation where it fell. Yet still it swung out at the men who began to tire as the beast tired. Arms swung swords with less and less agility. Eldar watched with trepidation, fearful for the lives of these men who had become her friends.
Snatching up her sword, given her by the Hermit before she left, Eldar stepped forward to face the monster. Her heart hammered with fear but her voice prayed words she didn’t know. The creature’s eyes gleamed with recognition at the sight of her. For a split second Eldar’s green fearful eyes stared deeply into the bottomless black pools of the demon, and the monster howled. Raising its claws high above her Eldar felt the sweep of the force of the blow as she thrust her sword upwards. The honed steel blade sang with silver light through the air and cleaved the monsters evil head from its body in one stroke. Blood flowed from the severed neck raining down upon the ground. Eldar fell backwards and was pulled out of the range of the spouting deadly drops by Shandyke. The body of the beast slumped to the ground where its life blood burned with an acidic content and the body vaporised into nothing but an evil stench on the air.
For a moment silence reigned as the warriors leaned on their swords gasping, then Eldar remembered Maxe and Bram and their wounds.
“Quick”, she said, “Find the horses before they get too far, we must wash the wounds and bind them or Maxe and Bram may die. Hurry”.
Shandyke and Malek hurried off towards the Lake of Joy in the hope that the horses may have stopped and would be grazing there. Eldar coaxed the fire into flames with more wood and Rindith lay the two wounded men down on rugs by the fire. Maxe was now asleep, his skin grey, but he breathed still. Bram was unconscious and the blood still seeped from the wound. He was pale and Eldar was afraid that he had lost too much blood to survive. Resolutely Eldar took her spare shift from the saddle bag that had served as her pillow and tore the white linen into strips. Drenching some of the bandages in water Eldar set about washing the blood from Bram’s wound. With a firm hand she tied long swathes of the shift around the wound to staunch the sluggish flow of blood. As she went about her gory task, Shandyke and Malek returned dispirited, dragging one single stubborn pony behind them.
“The rest of the beasts must be miles away by now”, grumbled Shandyke, “and this one’s not carrying much apart from some biscuit and dried beef.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing!” Snapped Eldar, her nerves tense, “Now make sure it won’t get away again”.
Malek hobbled the pony’s legs and tied it securely to a low sycamore branch. The saddle bags were dragged off the animal and examined. Shandyke had been right, the bags only contained one water carried, some hard biscuit and some packs of dried beef.
As they sat round the fire Eldar asked for some suggestions as to what to do next.
“Well we can’t continue without mounts, that’s for certain. It would take us months to reach the Ivory Plain on foot”, said Barin.
“Even if we found somewhere with animals to sell, we’ve no money”, grouched Shandyke.
“Whatever we do, we can’t steal them”, said Eldar firmly.
“Why not?” Said Rindith, “You might have principles but I don’t. I’d rather steal mounts than traipse across country by foot”.
Shandyke, who had slept with his bag of scrolls under his head unrolled his most accurate map.
“We don’t have much choice,” he said slowly, “this route is already the quickest and least dangerous, even without horses. If we’re lucky we’ll meet a merchant train on the road from the Lake of Joy to the City of Princes and get a ride and water. At the very least we could travel with them for protection.”
“So how long will it take us in all, without horses?” Queried Eldar.
Shandyke hesitated then said,
“About three to four months but less if we’re lucky with horses”.
“Surely we can travel faster than that”, Eldar burst out.
Shandyke glanced at her,
“Not with our wounded and not in hot weather. On colder days we might just make a few miles more, but for the most part the walk over the Barren Heath will be murder without shade. We’ll be doing well to cover ten to twelve miles a day. Remember, I have made the calculations on the assumption that we’ll be walking”.
Eldar felt dutifully snubbed.
The little battle weary group slept in fits and starts through the early hours until the sun poked its bright rays over the horizon to welcome the new day. As they began to pack up the few belongings and share out their breakfast, Eldar spotted one of the saddle bags on the ground near where the dead body of the beast had fallen the previous night. As she hauled the bags into her arms she saw a collar lying on the grass. A bright white jewel gleamed from its setting within the leather. Eldar caught her breath as the magnificent blue white stone lit up when the sun’s rays gently kissed it. She glanced back at the others, no one was watching her. Gingerly she crouched down and lifted the collar exposing the jewel to the full light. It was a pure blue white diamond! Carefully she unfastened the heavy, leather collar, her fingers slipping on the large buckle that felt oily and greasy from having been in contact with the beast, and tied it around her waist. The collar went round her twice, the buckle covering the inset diamond. Quickly, an odd sense of guilt touching her briefly, she clutched the saddle bags and rejoined the others.
They were very cautious in their travel that day. They sent two of their number ahead to scout out the land before they travelled far. The journey was slow and heavy as they carried their wounded and it took another three weary days before they finally reached the blue green waters of the Lake of Joy as night fell on the evening of the fourth day. They pitched camp on the south west banks of the Lake and filled their few water skins to the brim with clear, fresh water. A tiny fire was laid and they toasted the hard biscuits over the flames and tore the beef into strips to share and munch slowly.
The watchman roused the party just before dawn the following day. They had decided the night before to travel in the early hours and late evening only and conserve their strength during the long hot hours of the midday sun. In the pale light of the new day the small group gathered their meagre provisions, washed hurriedly in the lake and, settling packages and the wounded on a makeshift stretcher, they set off. Their eyes were fixed on the horizon where the sun was already shimmering into a heat haze over the barren earth of the Heath. The lush ground surrounding the Lake of Joy gradually gave way to trickles of sand and then deeper drifts of bone dry sand. Scrub grass and huge cacti began to dot the landscape and the dunes began to lift and roll as far as the eye could see. It was a desolate place, yet still the courage of the group pushed them on.
Towards noon they stopped. The heat was almost unbearable, and Bram and Maxe were delirious from their wounds and gabbled non-stop unnerving those who hefted the stretcher. The wounded begged for water constantly and each member of the group shared their water flasks with them in turn. When they paused to rest, sweating and aching from the heat, Eldar insisted that they stretch their cloaks above the stretcher and make temporary shelters for themselves from the sun. When they had finished the men lay beneath the cloaks with their tunics stripped off and sweated freely in the baking heat.
By five in the afternoon the heat had lessened and the party gathered together belongings and wounded and set off across the coarse sand, so hot that it burned the soles of their feet through their leather boots. And so the days went on, the sun never changing its boiling temperature nor its glaring brightness. The eyes of the travellers became red and sore from squinting through the glaring haze to espy the City of Princes. The water supplies ran so low that Eldar could only permit a mouthful a day to wet the throat. Barely alive they staggered on over the desert. Eldar read her Bible at night and took comfort from the stories in Exodus and the saving of God’s people, but as she prayed before sleep at night, she found herself begging God not to let them be forty years in this wilderness.
After what seemed a lifetime to the travellers but was in fact about two weeks, Shandyke woke the camp with a shout in the mid afternoon as they rested.
“Camels! Camels! I can see a merchant train. Wake up, everyone, of they’ll go without us”.
With shaking, frenzied hands the group lurched towards the camel train and begged for a ride and water to the City of Princes. The prosperous silk merchant who led the train gladly let the travellers share the caravan’s water, in return the travellers embellished stories of their adventures and shared them round the evening camp fires. At last they saw in the distance the soaring towers of the City and knew that the second stage of their journey was completed. They looked forward to a warm bed and a good meal. Some of the men thought longingly of sweethearts and wives they had left behind at home, and thought of warm arms and love for night. When the finally entered the city, footsore and weary their hearts were radiant with triumph at their success. They had now been travelling for a month and entered the City on the 3rd day of June.
Chapter 3