Light Of Loreandril (12 page)

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Authors: V K Majzlik

BOOK: Light Of Loreandril
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She nodded, holding her side with one hand, the pain making her bite her lower lip.

Taking Nymril’s reins from her hand he began to lead her white horse. “I wish there was something I could do to help. We will stop as soon as we find somewhere appropriate.”

Nymril flopped forward, her head resting on Sonda’s neck, letting her arms fall down either side. In this position she was able to steady her body and flow with Sonda’s movement, helping to ease the pain. “Thank you,” she whispered, smiling at Eilendan.

“You’d have done the same.”

Her pale cheeks blushed slightly, but she knew her comrade required no response., Her breathing slightly easier, Nymril closed her eyes and fell into a light doze, her thoughts swarming with the recent, troubling events.

Eilendan guided Sonda carefully between the rocks and small pools that were scattered along their path, ensuring a smooth ride for Nymril as she slept.

The pair had met two hundred years earlier, just before the battle of Andkhuin. As a captain in the Elven army, he and his small battalion of Aeonates had been assigned to protect Nymril. From the moment they had met, there was an instant bond and understanding between them. He had saved Nymril from the clutches of death, carrying her away unconscious, as he and his men escaped with the other survivors from the battle.

In the following months he had nursed her, while the two of them remained hidden high in the mountains, avoiding the Empire’s patrols. She struggled not only with her wounds, but also her body’s withdrawal. With the Aeonorgal captured, her Earth Spirit battled at first to sustain itself and Nymril’s body. Eventually that subsided, and she trained her body to cope without the Earth power, until she was strong enough to travel with Eilendan in search of others. During this time they became close friends, and since then had not parted company.

 

Jaidan rode up swiftly, his dirty green cloak billowing out behind him, returning from scouting the lie of the land ahead with the help of Khar. She sat balanced on his shoulder, preening her feathers.

“Did you see anything?” queried Eilendan eagerly.

“Nothing. Only clouds, and the edge of the marshes. It looks as though we are heading for more woodland.” He was edgy, keen to get under cover, his thick eyebrows frowning with concern.

The comrades were still picking their way across the vast, seemingly endless expanse of the Kethnor Marshes. After leaving the dry, grassy mound, they had been forced to wade through the mud, but after several hours of travelling westwards, they were able to mount their horses once more and travel more quickly. The ground, though still muddy, was not as boggy, and the pools were now few and far between, making their going much easier. Thankfully the stench had also begun to fade.

“Woodland would be a welcomed break,” Eilenden decided. “We’re all exhausted. How far away?”

“We should reach it by nightfall but only if we maintain this pace.” Jaden looked over at Nymril who still slept, her white hair draping around her face, framing it. Everyone was now nursing injuries or aching muscles of some sort, unfortunately it was their strongest who were suffering the most.

Jaidan took another look at Nymril, but knowing there was nothing he could do for her without stopping, urged his horse forward to ride alongside Gomel and Gaular.

“How’s the leg?” Carefully, he unwrapped a section of the bandage, both patient and carer remaining on horseback. Gaular winced, clenching his jaw as he tried to hide the pain.

“I’m alive at least!” Gaular growled, trying to steady himself as he felt another wave of nausea pass. Beads of sweat dripped down his black brow.

“When we stop, I will dress it again. I have some leaves that might help counteract the flesh rot, but it is spreading quickly. It would be easier if we knew what they used, if only you hadn’t discarded the arrow head.”

 

The orange sun was sinking by the time the comrades could see the faint line of woodlands stretching across the horizon. They were heartened at the thought of cover and hopefully rest, even the horses picked up their pace. However, it still took them an hour to reach the trees, and the whole day had nearly passed by, with the night starting to draw in. Thankfully, neither Jaidan nor Khar had seen any signs of the pursuing enemy. However, this could mean that they were somewhere ahead, closer to finding the Aeonorgal.

Nymril sensed it had not yet been found. She could still feel its pure power surging through her veins, a sure sign that the Spirit Star had not been tainted by the touch of the karzon or their black magic. They were also encouraged to see that the light of the aeonthel around Nymril’s neck had grown brighter over the day, a definite sign they were travelling in the right direction.

Chapter 13 – Tavor

 

Until now, the boys had been fortunate with the weather, but since the previous night, the heavy storm clouds had made good on their threats. The track they were following had become a slimy swamp of mud and mushy leaves, and although they were still travelling through the woods, the scantily clad canopy provided little cover. Both Cradon and Nechan were miserable. The clothes on their back were soaked through, and even the belongings they carried were sodden. They spoke little, their low thoughts about leaving home compounded by the deplorable weather.

The rain and thunder had continued all morning, finally petering out to misty drizzle by late afternoon. The sun struggled to make an appearance, slowly burning through the grey veil of clouds.

Despite the rain, Nechan’s hand kept wandering upwards, handling the silver orb that hung around his neck. It had become strangely warm to the touch as if something inside was fuelling it. Cradon too, would often fumble in his saddlebag, checking his secret was still secure. They were both discrete, feeling as if eyes spied upon them from all directions. Something told them it was vital these items were protected, although neither twin understood why.

“Do you know where we are?” Cradon shook his wet red mop again, trying to shed some of the water.

They had come across several forks in the road, and each time chose the one that looked less travelled. Their current track was now no more than an overgrown path, winding through the trees. The horses often stumbled on stray roots and brambles that trailed across the path, made worse as they slid about in the mud.

“To be honest, I really don’t know. No
t on
e of these lanes is marked on any of the maps Barnon gave us.”

“Well at least we haven’t run into anyone yet! Why don’t we rest for a while? The rain seems to have stopped, for a bit at least.”

Nechan agreed, and led Danfur onto a small, grassy knoll. He took out the maps, pleased to see that although they were damp, the ink had not run. Crouched together, holding the parchments out, the twins once again tried to make sense of the scrawled letters and markings. The problem was, they had no idea how far they had travelled, as they were inexperienced at gauging distance covered when riding.

Sighing, Cradon rolled onto his back, not caring about the wet grass beneath him. He stared up at the sparse, red canopy, watching the occasional dead leaf slowly fall to the ground, listening to the sound of dripping raindrops. Nechan continued to study the maps, flipping between the different ones.

“I just can’t tell where we are. If I could see the lie of the land, maybe then I could get my bearings.” Nechan scratched his head again. “It would help if I could see some landmarks that I could identify. I don’t even know how close we are to the mountains.”

Nechan looked over at his brother, hoping for some kind of participation or solace. Instead, Cradon just continued watching the spiralling leaves, holding out his tongue to catch drops of water. This frustrated Nechan
. Why did it always have to fall on his shoulders
?
Why couldn’t his brother take something seriously for once?

Cradon had always had the fun with Nechan trailing behind to clear up the mess left in his brother’s wake. He was the mischievous twin, and always had been, even as a young boy. If he was not stealing freshly baked pies from the bakery, he was spying on girls down at the lake, and it was always Nechan who ended up sorting things out.

Cradon looked deep in thought, as if he did not have a care in the world. All of a sudden, he sat bolt upright.

“I have an idea!” he said excitedly, barely able to get his words out quickly enough. Springing up, he ran over to the nearest tree, and started inspecting the lower branches. “No, this won’t work,” he mumbled to himself as he hopped over to a second, then a third tree. “Ah ha! This…..I can work with!” He stood proudly, his hands raised, showing his brother the tree.

“Please, Cradon, this is not helping!” Nechan looked at his brother despairingly, shaking the maps at him, trying to understand what was going through is brother’s head.

“I’m going to climb up and have a look round for you! I can’t believe we didn’t think of this before!” Cradon laughed. He was amazed he had been the one to come up with such a simple answer to their problems rather than his brother

Cradon shook the lower branches first, producing a shower of water, after which he jumped up, holding onto the lowest branch with both hands. He swung his legs in the air like a pendulum trying to get up the momentum to swing them around the branch. Like a spider monkey he hung upside down, blood rushing to his freckled face.

Slowly but surely he shuffled round the branch, struggling to keep a grip on the wet, slimy bark, until he was upright. Delicately, he found his balance, using the trunk of the tree to steady himself, and slowly he stood up, reaching for the next branch. He continued to use the same method, until finally he was almost lost from view amongst the remaining canopy. Leaves and water showered Nechan as he waited patiently, quietly impressed with his brother’s agile climbing.

“Can you see anything yet?” he shouted up.

“No, not at the moment! Whoops!!” There was a loud crack and a tumbling rustle. “Nechan, you might want to take a couple of steps back!”

Nechan was pleased he jumped out the way, just in time, as a large branch came crashing down, narrowly missing him.

“I don’t think I can go any higher, but this view is amazing! You should see it!!” The voice sounded muffled high above him.

“You know I don’t like heights!” Nechan had not dared climb a tree since he fell out of one when he was five. Even though he did not break any bones, his confidence and pride had been seriously dented. He was quite content to watch his brother do all the hard work. Nechan had the brains, while Cradon had the brawn.

“So, what can you actually see? Any landmarks I can work from? A river? The mountains?” Nechan knelt over the map, waiting for his brother’s response.

“The mountains are off to the left, but they’re a long way away. We seem to have been travelling parallel to them. I can’t see anything else though! Sorry!”

It was not really much help at all. Nechan stared at the map blankly. It was clear they could be anywhere in the vast mass of woodlands surrounding the foot of the long chain of mountains.

“Hey! Wait! I can’t be sure, but I think there is a farm up ahead!”

“A farm? There isn’t one marked anywhere. Are you sure?”

“Well, I can see what looks like open fields, and I think smoke! Yes, I’m positive I see smoke!” Cradon’s tone changed, becoming almost squeaky with excitement. “Watch out, I’m coming down again.”

In a flurry of twigs, branches and crimson leaves, Cradon made it safety down to the floor. “So, we are going to the farm, yes?” He fell down, exhausted, next to Nechan. “There might be someone there who could tell us where we are.”

“What if there are soldiers there?”

Cradon rolled his eyes at his sensible brother. “I doubt it. We are obviously in the middle of nowhere. Why would soldiers be out
here
?” Cradon was still panting, out of breath from climbing.

“I just think we can’t trust anyone at the moment, and especially with what were carrying.” Nechan began to roll up the parchments carefully. “I am concerned about arousing someone’s suspicions. What if they decide to hand us over?”

“You worry far too much, brother. We will just make sure that we keep the things hidden and we don’t have to tell them what we are really doing out here. It will be fine, let me do the talking! Besides, the thought of dry clothes, a warm bed and home cooked food sounds far too tempting!” He laughed like an excited child. “And, no offence, but someone else’s company would be nice!”

Though it had only been a few days, Cradon was already longing for clean water, a hot bath and the other luxuries they had left behind. He also missed the socialising in the village. As much as he loved the company of his brother, it did not compete with the attention he received from the girls who doted on him. They loved his dimpled smile and freckled cheeks.

 

 

They stood some distance away from the farmstead, waiting in the tree line to see if there were any sign of movement around the house and barn. There was nothing obvious that made the twins feel wary. The only sign of life was the pale grey smoke rising from the chimney and the well-fed animals grazing in the paddock. The clouds had all but disappeared and the remainder of the orange sunlight was starting to dim, as the evening began to close in, the trees casting long shadows across the fields.

“Well, what do you think?” Cradon shrugged his shoulders, waiting for his brother’s answer.

“I’m still not sure. I wish we could see who lived there. Get an idea of who they are.”

“We can’t wait here all day. Shall I go and you stay here?”

“No, no! We do this together. I just think that perhaps we should bury our things first, and only take what we don’t mind others seeing!” It was obvious that Nechan was referring to the two artefacts they carried with them. Cradon was reluctant at first, hesitant about letting the items out of their sight, but it was better than someone finding them. Together, they hid the two items under a large pile of leaves between the roots of an old, gnarled oak tree that was easily identifiable.

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