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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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7 - The Pass of Silence
Chapter 7: The Pass of Silence
The mountain pass was stony and overgrown with weeds. The air became thinner the higher they climbed and made breathing difficult and the climb more wearying. The travellers laboured on for a day and half then the going became too much for them. They found that they needed to rest each hour to gather strength and courage to go on. Eldar was exhausted from the effort it took just to keep upright, let alone walk in the hard, freezing wind that blew in from all directions. Her limbs felt as if they had frozen in the hunched position she had adopted to battle against the elements. The pass was open to wind and rain and for most of the time they walked along the edge of a yawning chasm. They were almost two thousand feet up and climbing higher.
On the last night they settled down to camp with the end of the pass in view. The pass was a simple narrow, slatted bridge, the slats falling apart with rot and the unceasing bad weather conditions. It hung from the rock face by means of enormous rusting iron poles staked at either end and driven into the rock bent over to form a loop. The rope cord looked old with its fraying ends and the whole contraption appeared frighteningly dangerous. On the other side of the Pass they could just glimpse the green, swaying tops of the trees of the valley of the Holy Forest and could hear the sweet sound of the running of fresh water. Eldar was undecided as to whether to let the men cross in the dim twilight that was falling fast around them, or to wait until morning. Malek said that if they waited until it was light they would stand a better chance of crossing safely. Eldar listened to him. So they settled down to rest, feet in towards the fire as was their habit, with Rindith on first watch. And that was how they were when the Demons of Shadray came upon them.
Shandyke died instantly in his sleep, not even opening his eyes when the sword wielded by one of the spirits of evil whistled down towards his skinny exposed neck. Rindith found himself cornered against a huge outcrop of rock fighting for his life against two more of the Demons, shouting for the others to wake and fight as Hell had come upon them.
Maxe, rubbing sleep from his eyes took a blow with a sword across the back that rendered him temporarily paralysed and unconscious as he fell into the hot ashes of the fire. Bram immediately stepped over his fallen brother holding his mighty broadsword fending off the evil Demons. Barin, his crossbow useless at such a close range stood his ground wielding Maxe’s two-edged sword. Eldar found herself parrying blows with one of the Demons with only her short hunting dagger for protection. A sharp blow from the Demon’s thin sliver of sword caught her across the wrist. She felt the warm flow of blood trickle down over her hand and the dagger fell from her limp fingers. She heard the Demon howl as he lifted his blade for the kill, in desperation Eldar screamed,
“Lord Jesus, help us!”
There was a sudden horrible clap of thunder, the sky cracked as lightning tore across the heavens and rain pelted down. Tongues of fire lit the sky and crashed to earth burning the Demons. Eldar heard them scream in agony as she fell to her knees under the driving force of the wind and rain. When she was able to look up into the rain the travellers were alone the Demons had gone. But the end of the battle had found them less in number. The travellers stood in shocked muteness beside the bodies of Shandyke, his head severed at the neck, and Malek who had been murdered by his own axe.
Maxe slowly rose to his feet as the numbness in his back and legs wore off and Eldar gazed round at those left to her, her eyes stinging with the salt of unshed tears, her face full of misery and pain. Gently she put a hand on Malek’s face and closed the staring eyes, collapsing onto the saturated grass at his side and weeping. Without speaking, Rindith, Maxe, Bram and Barin, laid aside their bloodied weapons and dug a grave in which they placed the bodies of their fallen comrades. They piled earth on top of the grave and laid rocks over the grave to stop wild animals digging the bodies up. Eldar watched them, weeping and praying for the souls of those who had put their lives into her hands and travelled with her unto their death. Each man said goodbye to his friends and Eldar said prayers at the graveside and her own goodbyes. Even knowing that she would see them again in Heaven did not assuage her guilt.
When the burial was done, they decided not to wait until morning to make the crossing but to attempt it now. The wind seemed to renew its attack when Eldar stepped onto the bridge. As she inched nearer the middle, where the missing slats were numerous, the wind tugged hard at her jerkin and hair, it swept up dust and loose chips of wood from the splintered planks blinding her with its ferocity. It was not yet dawn. Fear and panic swelled in her spirit causing her steps to falter and her heart to grow faint. Once a rotten slat snapped loudly beneath her weight and she momentarily lost her balance. At that moment only was she grateful for the dark moonless night that she could not see the bottom of the chasm that grinned invitingly below her. Only by clinging desperately to the ropes did she survive. Eldar could feel the swing and creak of the bridge as the others began the treacherous slow crawl over the old bridge.
When she reached the other side, her spirit badly shaken but physically unhurt, she turned to see if the others were managing. She was just in time to catch sight of Barin clinging futilely to the end of a slat as his feet dangled dangerously in the empty air over the edge. With an agonised cry Eldar flung an arm across her eyes as she saw one hand slip free. Then, daring to look again, she saw that he was clinging to Rindith’s leg and that Rindith was risking his own safety to help Barin regain his hold. Amazingly they made the crossing without losing another companion to the merciless chasm. Eldar sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
The path down to the Holy Forest was steep and slippery with mud. The travellers half fell down the slope and gathered in a heap at the bottom of the valley where the Holy Forest loomed up in front of them, black, ominous and terrifyingly sinister. Eldar made the men light flaming torches of pitch and carry them so that they would know if they stepped off the path and became lost in the maze of trees. The Forest, luckily for the travellers, was thin and sparse at the point where they entered, the evil of the Ivory Plain was certainly destroying the trees, the result a devastation no man in his right mind would walk through.
They walked for the rest of that long night and into the following day almost without pause, eating berries as they passed bushes that were fruitful and drinking thirstily by hand from the tiny rushing brooks. They had no energy for talking though the silence of the Forest was oppressive. Instead each man walked with his thoughts on prayer. At last they came to the boundary where the Forest and Plain met and there they halted. Eldar wiped a dirty, grime-encrusted hand across her sweaty brow and looked out over the Plain. It stretched forth from the Holy Forest, barren and still. Not a single blade of grass grew on the Plain, no bird enlivened the menacing quiet with cheerful song. The sandy ground was not disturbed by the tread of inquisitive strangers’ feet. Evil hung over the barren plain in a tangible, heavy, black miasma, creeping ever closer, closer to the Mountains and the world of civilisation.
There at the edge of the Forest they camped, making a fire and huddling near to it. The sunset was colouring the sky, but even the beauty of the evening was dimmed by the aura of death that gripped the land. As they crouched closer to the bright flames each man was filled with fear for what the morrow would bring. All of them knew they might not even survive the crossing of the Plain, for it was riddled with traps and evil creatures to catch the unsuspecting trespasser. Eldar too was more frightened than she cared to admit. She found herself praying quietly under her breath and was encouraged when she heard Rindith’s voice also softly praying.
For some time that night as she sat on guard her ears straining for any sound of the Demons of Shadray, Eldar pondered on why the Demons had fled at the sound of her Lord’s name. Yet she felt that her journey was exactly what the Demons wanted, as if they wanted her to go on. It was almost as if in a strange, twisted way they were luring her towards the Ivory Towers. She remembered with painful clarity the piercing shriek the Demons had given as they were wrenched away from the travellers after wreaking such havoc and death upon them. A shriek of such foul proportions that she felt it could curdle her blood. As the memory encompassed her and filled her with fear Eldar began to pray, not desperately but with a deep feeling of trust in her Lord that no matter what happened to them, He was always in control. She seemed to pray for hours and at some point during her time with her Lord she felt light and started to laugh and heard her own voice speaking in a language she had never heard or learnt.
But the praying was a lighted torch to the Demons of Shadray. With a start Eldar opened her eyes and saw the Demons ringed around her and her companions. They were watching her with sightless eyes and grinning with lipless mouths. Strangely, Eldar felt no fear. She rose to her feet and faced them her voice still murmuring strange words. She glanced at her companions and back at the Demons. But there was nothing to fear, the Demons had come not to kill but to kidnap. The leader of the Demon riders beckoned to Eldar with a hand of bone, the reins looped over the fleshless knuckles. The jaw moved in a mirthless grin and its voice was an echo that sounded in Eldar’s head.
“Come, we will take you to him”.
“And my companions?” Eldar replied in her mind.
“We are not interested in them, we only want you, come”.
The black ghostly horses champed their bits restlessly as she felt her body stiffly move towards the leaders’ horse. As one held in a trance she grasped the horse’s mane and swung herself up in front of the Demon. The cold of the creature struck her to the bone and she shivered. The skeleton laughed at her, and shook the reins of his black beast. Eldar looked back once at her companions and said a prayer for their safety. The Demons howled at the sound of her voice praying and she felt skeletal fingers touch her lips and her voice was gone. When she tried to speak, to finish her prayer nothing came from her mouth and she felt fear prickle down her spine.
Then the speed of the gallop and the rushing wind called her attention back to her precarious position as she clutched the horse’s mane with hands that were already cold, and she looked forward with anticipation and fear to what she would discover at the end of her nightmare ride. Eldar knew that the Demons were taking her to her father, the Lord of Death, a Lord, her thoughts echoed, you are heiress to all you see. The kingdom of the Ivory Towers! Suddenly Eldar was conscious that she no longer minded the feel of the bony skeleton that sat the horse behind her as if it still had its earthly body of flesh. Her thoughts ran riot within her, untamed and uncontrollable. She knew only that she would be a Princess, and they would be her servants.
* * * * * * *
The Ivory Towers glittered coldly in the night. The colour of bleached bone, the paleness of death. When I rule, thought Eldar, I shall fill the Towers with warmth and light and gaiety, never again will the Towers be called cold, but they shall be likened to warm cream and buttermilk, to the freshness of a Spring day. I shall love them and make them beautiful again. As they neared the steep, marble-like structure, Eldar could almost fancy that the walls were calling out to her to save them from the evil that dwelt within. Her thoughts raced as her feelings grew exultant.
Through the rest of that night the horses galloped onwards over the Plain. Hard and fast they ran. When the sun was just beginning to poke its bright head over the horizon the Demons pulled to a stop before the high gates of the Ivory Towers. Their arrival jolted Eldar out of her trance and she felt the guilt in her as she remembered her thoughts and the greed of her heart. Forgive me Lord she prayed in anguish, forgive me my weakness. The Demon behind her pushed her quickly off the horse and she sprawled in the sandy dust at its feet. Then she felt a pulling within her soul in the direction of the high, barred, cast-iron gates.
Frantically she prayed in her heart that her speech would be restored so that she might banish these evil creatures for all time. At once she felt a loosening of her tongue and boldly she turned to the black, shadowed forms that waited for her to enter the gates and said,
“I banish you back to the land that spawned you, back to the evil hell that spewed you forth. I banish you in the name of the Christ Jesus. Your power is broken and the Jesus the Lord is God and King in this place”. Her voice rose triumphantly.
With a shriek the Demons turned as one, their horses reared madly and they tried to run from the power of God. Then Eldar felt a dark, heavy wind and smelt a foul smell as for an instant the Gates of Hades opened to take back his evil. The demons, screaming their anger became as vapour in the air and then vanished. Turning to face her ancestral home, Eldar took a deep breath, her heart pounding, knowing that the worst was still to come. She knocked at the gates,
“Open,” she cried, “open in the name of Jesus. I am Ferindor, your lawful heir”.
Slowly the gates creaked open at her request, and even more slowly Eldar entered the Ivory Towers.
Chapter 8