Light Of Loreandril (10 page)

Jaidan’s bow sung as he fired arrows in quick succession at the beasts and riders. In the frenzy he had little time to aim properly, and most of the arrows bounced off scaly hides. One khalit fell, sending its rider flying over the shields. Gomel turned, and before the karzon could stand, had embedded his two axes: one in the head and the other in the chest. It was instant death.

Using their black magic, the remaining karzon conjured up another torrent of flaming arrows, sending them through the air from invisible bows, pelting the comrades. One struck Gaular in the calf, its black feathers sticking out. The rain quickly extinguished the flame. The dwarf ignored the pain, and snapped off  the arrow to continue fighting.

Eilendan gave Nymril the signal and she turned to rummage in her knapsack, pulling out the Aeonorgal from its embroidered cloth. Its bright light escaped again, flooding the darkness with blinding whiteness. The khalit and karzon cowered for a fraction of a second as their eyes adjusted to the sudden exposure. The riders quickly overcame their fear, realising that they had found what they were sent to retrieve. Unable to push their beasts  further, they dismounted and attacked on foot, fuelled by new fury. The khalit, their spiny tails between their legs, ran off into the darkness, away from the white light, howling in fear.

This time, Nymril did not have the chance to summon her dragon spirit. A karzon ran towards her, sword high above his head. She ducked and rolled out of the way as the sword hit the sodden ground where she had just knelt. Lifting her shield arm she braced, as the karzon swung hard again. The force of the blow knocked her down into the mud, but the rest of the group was too invested in their own fight to come to her rescue.

Again, she rolled to the left, then the right, slithering around in the slime, desperately avoiding the jagged blade. Regaining her balance Nymril swung her sword, hacking at the karzon’s legs, missing several times. On the fourth attempt she made contact. The karzon fell to his knees, but still towering over her raised his sword, grasped in two bony, white hands, preparing to land a killing blow. Nymril gasped and thrust her sword into his exposed chest.

The dead karzon fell forward onto Nymril, trapping her under its immense weight. Crushed, she tried to free herself, wriggling beneath the dead body. She caught a glimpse of a change to the karzon’s visage partly concealed by its hood. The true, unearthly nature was revealed as the sorcery lost its grip on the body, a sure sign he was dead.

Still unable to move, she watched helplessly as another karzon crawled up the mound, approaching the Aeonorgal. His gloved fingers were twitching with eager excitement, preparing to snatch the precious orb. She let out a cry as he extended his hands forward. Reaching out, barely able to touch it with her fingertips, she gasped the words, “
Aeonorgal liberto remanild
!” In a lightning flash of white fire the orb vanished.

The surviving karzon let out high-pitched screams of frustration that filled the night air. With no reason to linger, they slipped back into the surrounding darkness. The Aeonorgal had been sent elsewhere and it was their task to find and return it to their masters. These weak elves and allies could wait for another day to be killed.

Baffled but relieved by the sudden retreat of the karzon, the rest of the group composed themselves, preparing for another attack.

“They will not return tonight!” Nymril called, still trying to squeeze herself from under the dead body. Her fellow travellers had not noticed her pinned to the ground. Guiltily Eilendan ran forward, and with the others, heaved the body off. Relieved, the elf breathed heavily, clutching her chest as if she could still feel the crushing weight. Jaidan stood looking out across the marshes for any sign of their enemy’s return, his bow strung ready.

“It’s gone!” Nymril panted, shouting above the loud rain. “They have no reason to attack us anymore. We are not worth the effort.”

“What do you mean
it’s gone
?” demanded Gaular, wincing as he inspected his impaled calf, wiping off the smeared mud.

“You sent it away, didn’t you.” Eilendan was trying to make sense of Nymril’s ramblings as he began to check her bruised arm.

She looked at him. “Yes!”  Sighing, she pulled her arm out of his hands.

“What do you mean? Where is it?” demanded Gomel, stamping his feet in frustration, his hands flailing wildly in the air still clutching his axes.

“I sent it to safety.”

“But you don’t know where?”

She shook her head with a look of a small nervous child, water dripping from her long hair and pale face.

The sound of thunder had now passed over them, travelling somewhere else, carried quickly by the strong wind. It took with it the rain, which stopped as quickly it had started.

“She doesn’t know where? Then this was all for nothing!” Gaular cursed under his breath as he turned away from the rest of the group, limping and slipping down the grassy mound.

“No, I don’t know where yet, but I can find it using this.”  Carefully, Nymril pulled out a small, delicately engraved object that dangled on a fine silver chain about her neck. Her cold hand shook, still dripping with rainwater. “This will guide us to it.”

“Omph!  It looks very pretty, but what exactly is it?” demanded Gomel sarcastically.

“It’s an aeonthel.” With her small fingers she pressed the clasp at the side, and the silver orb snapped open. They group watched as the fine, silver circles magically began to lift from inside the object, spinning intricately around each other faster and faster. A faint glow appeared to emanate from the centre, the intensity increasing with the rings’ speed.

“It’s not too far away.” Nymril sounded confident. “The light will grow brighter the closer we get.”

“We should leave now,” suggested Eilendan.

His fellow travellers immediately agreed.

“Jaidan, see if you can find the horses, I’ll come with you. Gomel, start packing up the camp, and gather any arrows that are not broken, they may be useful. Gaular, tend to your leg.”

Eilendan followed Jaidan, leaving Nymril to find a bearing with her aeonthel.

Nechan had taken several hours to calm down after his irritated eruption at Cradon, but eventually neither brother could bear the silence any longer. They spent the next two days riding at a gentle pace, keeping to the woody back lanes, their conversation an amalgamation of trivial things.  The topic of home or family was strictly avoided, although both boys dwelled on it at night. Already they seemed so far away from the safety of everything they had ever known.

Thankfully, the ride was pleasant, with gentle scenery and easy riding. More importantly, they did not see a single person. The woody track continued for miles, its dusty path winding gently through the sunlit trees. The overhead canopy was shades of green intermingled with autumnal amber and crimson. Invisible birds sang high overhead while squirrels leapt back and forth among the branches, now and then descending to rummage in the leaf litter for the nuts and roots.  It was strange to see something so innocent when their minds were filled with threats and an unknown future.

“Perhaps we should think about stopping?” Nechan suggested. “It will be easier to make camp while its still light.” The sun had already started to sink below the tree line, flooding the wood with its orange hues. “I think I see a clearing up ahead.”

Cradon strained his eyes in the direction Nechan was pointing. “Well, if you think so. It looks like we’re just surrounded by a sea of trees to me. But I’m happy to camp anywhere.”

He was amenable to any decision made by his brother; it was easier than trying to come up with suggestions himself. Fun-loving and generally carefree, it was not in Cradon’s nature to worry or even plan ahead.  His brother, however, was far more sensible and realistic.

The brothers were surprised when they approached what they thought was a clearing. Before them lay a beautiful expanse of crystal blue water. The lake was perfectly still, reflecting the autumn hues of the trees along the shoreline. Neither of them had any idea of this lake’s existence, nor was it marked on the map. They must have travelled deeper and further into the woods than they realised. It was picturesque, seemingly untouched by the outside world. The twins felt as though they were the first people to look upon this lake.

After travelling a few hundred metres around the shoreline they found a sheltered, white sandy beach, a perfect site to make camp. Cradon volunteered to find firewood, much at Nechan’s surprise, while he made a crude fishing line to catch their evening meal. Still following their father’s advice, the boys were trying to conserve their rations by fishing and hunting when possible.

A few hours later, the sun had completely dipped behind the hills, the first stars were starting to twinkle high in the night sky and the half moon was gliding into position. Sitting around the crackling campfire, the boys slowly turned the small brown trout that Nechan had caught. The scaly skin bubbled and sizzled above the fiery heat, filling the sheltered camp with a satisfying aroma.

“What do you think father said to the soldiers?” Cradon was sat cross-legged on his bedroll, picking at his scolding hot fish. He did not see the shocked look his brother threw him across the fire. Nechan did not answer, not wanting to even think about the consequences of their actions.

“Well? We have to talk about this at some point!”

Nechan lay back, throwing the remains of his fish into the hot ashes. He sighed, looking up at the starry night sky. Finally he spoke. “I’m sure he managed to talk his way out of it. He probably sent them off in the other direction.”

“Do you really think so?”

“No! I just
hope
so, for the sakes of our mother and sister.” Nechan sat up to look at his brother through the dancing flames rubbing his furrowed brow. “Do you think we did the right thing?”

Cradon choked as he tried to stifle a laugh. “You know that I was never sure. Running away was never something our father taught us. But, he seemed so positive……” he trailed off, throwing the bony skeleton of his fish into the fire.

“We’ll be fine. We have each other.” With a tone of reassurance, Nechan stared at his brother, who was sitting cross-legged, flicking the sand between his feet.

“Did I say I was worried?” A smile crept across Cradon’s face, matched by a mischievous look in his blue eyes.

Ignoring it, Nechan lay on his back, looking up again at the stars that now littered the evening sky. As he watched, a dark veil of clouds slowly drifted across, blotting out the night jewels. Nechan shivered, feeling the wind whip around him, picking up speed. It felt like rain was coming.

 Unexpectedly, he was slapped in the face by a handful of grainy sand, thrown by his brother. Nechan rolled back over, shaking the dirt from his blonde hair, only to see his brother cheekily beaming. Cradon was now standing, goading his brother, laughing hysterically.

“What are you going to do about it?” he jeered, changing positions so he was crouching, ready for any attack his brother may launch in retaliation. Almost catlike, Nechan sprang over the fire, with all his might and full body weight behind him. He fell on Cradon, and the two of them tussled, trying to pin the other brother to the ground, or wrestle him into a headlock. Although it was friendly play fighting, they were both strong, and were summoning all of their strength to put the other one down.

They rolled back and forth, playfully, knocking saddlebags out of the way, narrowly missing the fire several times. The horses behind them stamped their hooves, staring wide-eyed at the mass of wriggling, flailing limbs, intermingled with shouts and yelps.

In a tangled ball, they rolled into the icy, cold water, continuing to wrestle. Their laughter carried across the lake, echoing in the silence all around them. Managing to find a tight hold on his brother, Cradon kicked water into his brother’s defenceless face.

“Stop, I give in! You win!” Nechan coughing and spluttered, as Cradon loosened his grip. Together, they fell back into the water, laughing at how much like little kids they were. It was a much-needed release of tension.

“Rematch?”

“Give me a moment! You nearly drowned me!!”

“Chicken?” Cradon flapped his elbows and waddled back and forth in the water, clucking; the ultimate insult. At this taunt, Nechan launched himself at Cradon once again, managing to force his head under the water.

The twins were suddenly started by a loud noise above them that sounded thunderclap. A white fireball streaked across the night sky, cutting through the overlying cloud, blazing a trail that lingered in the air for several minutes. It plummeted into the far side of the lake with a roaring crash that sent waves across the serene surface. The twins stopped, still kneeling in the shallow water, unsure whether there was going to be anything else.

Even from this distance they could easily where it had landed. The water seemed to glow with a strange light, clearly visible, despite the churning, boiling currents formed by the heat of the unknown, heavenly object. Neither twin was able to get a word out; they were both speechless, still panting heavily from their tussle. The burning light subsided after a few moments, and the lake returned to its calm, tranquil state.  All around them the trees were alive with the sound of alarmed  animals and birds that had been awoken by the commotion.

“What was that?” Cradon stood staring at the place where the fireball had hit, water dripping from his drenched clothes and hair.

“I don’t know….” Nechan had not moved either, a puzzled expression on his face. They were both stunned into silence.

“Do you want to…”

“Go and find out?”

They looked at each other, excited by the identical thought. It was obvious that their curiosity would drive them crazy and keep them awake, unless they went to investigate.

After settling the two horses who were still agitated from all the hubbub, they packed up the camp, doused the fire and started picking their way around the shoreline. Their clothes were still damp, and the wind was wrapping its wintry fingers around them, making the material cling like a second skin.