Origin (11 page)

Elwyn remembered nodding, still too caught up in the emotion of the moment to speak.

“Besides your clothes and weapons, I have brought along several items your uncle wanted you to take with you. We will not be coming back here anytime soon, and these things are a part of your heritage.” That said, she motioned to Stuart who came over to the corpse of trees leading her mare Gemma.

Elwyn remembered throwing her arms around the snowy white neck of her beloved mare as Stuart brought her near. Then she remembered Clayre clearing her throat trying to regain her attention and beginning to speak.

“Your uncle wanted you to take his sword with you. It is the sword that his father gave him when he reached sixteen seasons. It’s as important a part of your heritage, as the pendant you now wear around your neck. He told me to tell you to guard both the pendant and the sword carefully, as they may play an important role in your future. He also asked that you continue sparring, if Thane is willing to partner you, and use the sword when you do. It is heavier than your short sword and it will take time for you to get used to its feel and weight.”

Elwyn remembered thinking it strange that her uncle would send his sword with her, but knew that this wasn’t the time to question his request. She felt sure that he would explain his reasoning to her at a later time. Her thoughts stilled as Clayre began to speak again.

“Elwyn,” Clayre said pulling her close. “I have also brought with me a book. It is your mother’s diary. I have never read it, and your uncle said that he was too grief stricken to look at it, but perhaps it will answer some of your questions. Rhys and I now know that the only one who knew the truth of what happened so long ago was your mother Rhianna. Perhaps by reading her diary, you can find some answers for yourself, as well as for your father.”

As Clayre handed her the small leather bound book, Elwyn remembered feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach and had the wind knocked out of her. She knew that her uncle had tried, ever since her birth, to shelter and protect her from harm, but he had no idea how much this little connection with her mother would have meant. What this book contained were her mother’s words and feelings, actually written by her hand. The only connection that Elwyn had been able to establish with her mother had been through the pendant which, while beautiful, was still a piece of lifeless metal. She hadn’t even known enough about her own mother to be aware that Rhianna had a temper until Ayron spoke of it today. There was so much for her to learn. It was very difficult for her to cope with why all of this was hitting her at once. Elwyn found that she was longer really listening to Clayre. She was trying to understand why her uncle kept all this from her for so long. She had to work hard to refocus her thoughts. There would be time for her to sort all this out later when they were reunited. She listened as Clayre continued speaking.

“I’ve also packed some other necessities for your trip. I packed three sets of your hunting garb. In fact, you might want to step behind that tree and change as we finish speaking. I can’t see you happy having to ride Gemma in that skirt,” Clayre said gently teasing, and smiling for the first time since she arrived. “Take the outfit with you though. You might want to have something pretty to wear when you meet your father.”

Elwyn remembered nodding vigorously, grabbed her clothing and stepping behind a rather large tree to change while Clayre kept talking.

“I also brought your bow, along with your quiver, and as many arrows as I could gather in so short a time,” she said shaking her head. “There were arrows scattered all about your sleeping loft. I found two hunting knives and a short sword mixed in among the arrows and the clothing, which I packed as well. I packed some jerky, a large tin of travel biscuits, and your waterskin. I don’t know how fast you will be traveling over the next few days or how much time you will have to stop and find food to eat. You can eat these rations in your saddle and they should keep you healthy until you reach your destination. There is enough here for you to share with Thane.”

Elwyn remembered stepping from behind the tree, garbed for travel and reaching out to draw Clayre to her. She could see Ayron over the top of Clayre’s head signaling to Thane. She felt devastated as she realized that the time had come for her to leave. Ayron walked over to where they were standing and gently pulled them apart. He gave Elwyn a quick hug, threw her up on her horse, and told the two of them that it was time to get underway.

Elwyn’s heart nearly broke again as she remembered the tears streaming down Clayre’s troubled face as she reached out her hand in farewell and said, “I pray that we will see one another again soon, in happiness and not in sorrow. Go now, daughter of my heart, and embrace whatever future lies before you with grace and courage.”

As Elwyn rode alongside Thane on the trail leaving the village, she remembered turning for one last glimpse of the only home she’d ever known. Tears streamed down her face as she realized that she was closing a door on her past that would never reopen. Slowly she turned again facing forward, ready to embrace her future.

C
layre and Ayron both stood together in companionable silence watching as Elwyn and Thane rode away from the village heading toward Kren. Each was lost in thought about the young woman that was riding away from them. Clayre was dreading the possibility that something horrible could happen to her, and wondering if she would ever see the child she’d raised from an infant again. Ayron, on the other hand, was wondering if he would ever get to know the neice he’d just met, have the chance to see her reunited with Azavon, introduce her to the rest of his family, and help her to learn more about her new homeland. He briefly wondered if she would come to love Silvendil as much as he did. From their brief meeting, he felt they shared a lot of common interests; a love of nature, a fierce protectiveness of those they loved, and the need to think things through. Clayre and Ayron both stood still, lost in thought, until Elwyn and Thane rode out of sight. Ayron then put his arm around Clayre’s shoulders, and gently began to lead the weeping woman back toward the hut where Rhys and the soldiers guarding him waited.

As they walked, Ayron began to share with Clayre the list of things that needed to be done before they could leave for Amarni. He still had a strong feeling that there was trouble coming, and soon. He and his men would probably be the group that was the easiest to follow and catch, so it would be prudent of them to leave Tarlon as soon as possible.

“Can you go and gather any personal belongings that you and Rhys will need while traveling to Amarni? It would also be helpful if you would pack up the herbs, salves, and other medicines you will need to treat him.”

Clayre anxious to find some distraction from her fear and sorrow replied, “ I should be able to pack what we need to bring along in about thirty minutes. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Since you know the villagers well, would you see if you can procure some supplies from them for our trip? I’ll be happy to pay for anything they are willing to part with. I just don’t think living on travel rations will be healthy for Rhys right now.”

“Yes, I’ll speak with some of the farmers and hunters to see if they are willing to sell us what we’ll need for the trip. I’m sure they will be happy to help Rhys any way they can.”

“Clayre, I’ll send three of my soldiers with you to help you collect and carry your belongings and any supplies you get. If you need me, I’ll be at the blacksmith shop with my soldiers finishing the repairs to the wagon that will be carrying the two of you. We want it to be as strong and stable as possible.”

When they arrived back at the hut, Clayre went in to check on Rhys. While she was gone, Ayron ordered Stuart and two other soldiers to go with Clayre while she gathered together the items they would need for the journey. He asked the three men to keep in mind the need for haste and to remind her of that need if she seemed to get bogged down in conversations with the villagers.

After watching the four of them leave, Ayron headed over to the blacksmith shop to join the rest of his soldiers, who were building a litter that was to function as a bed for Rhys during their journey. The soldiers he put in charge of the project found the base of an old wagon and had been working hard over the past two hours to repair and reinforce it, so that both the litter and the wagon would be as stable as possible. He was pleased to see that they had just finished attaching the litter to the wagon and were working to strengthen two other areas; one for Clayre to sit on, and another to carry their supplies.

Ayron’s current plan was to use their two best horses to pull the wagon, with the two riders trading off as drivers. Only a few horses in Silvendil were trained to pull wagons, and those animals were rarely used for military service. They were taking quite a chance using their untrained horses to pull Rhys, but there didn’t seem to be any other option. There were no horses that could be spared from the small village to pull the wagon. The few they had were needed to tend their crops and drag wood for building and burning. They’d been able to round up a few of the scraggly ponies that Crawley’s men rode, but were planning to leave them with the villagers to make up for the trauma they’d experienced earlier in the day. Ayron really hoped the horses they were planning to use wouldn’t panic or prove difficult and cause delays. He was interrupted from dark thoughts of pending disaster by Stuart, one of the men he sent to help Clayre.

“Sir, if I could have a few moments of your time.”

“Of course Stuart, what is it?” Ayron said, knowing Stuart wouldn’t have interrupted him unnecessarily. “Is everything alright with Clayre and Rhys?”

“Yes sir, no problem there, in fact the villagers are trying to get us to take much more than we need, and Clayre has plenty of help. I came to tell you that my morden Tomak is willing to pull the wagon to Armani. He has taken a liking to both Rhys and Clayre and would like to help. With Tomak pulling the wagon, we wouldn’t need to have a driver, and Tilar says that I can ride double with him on his morden Krelan. We are both slight of build, so carrying the two of us shouldn’t slow Krelan down.”

“Stuart, that is a very generous offer on the part of you both and I will gratefully accept it. I felt that the weakest part of my plan was that we had to rely on two untrained horses to pull the wagon for the journey. Doing that raised our chances of an accident and ran the risk of overtaxing the horses themselves, which would cause us to lose precious time. Thank you very much, and please thank Tomak for me as well.”

“Then I’ll go now and fashion a harness for him sir,” said Stuart walking toward the blacksmith shop again. “I noticed a large stack of leather pieces inside earlier.”

As Stuart walked away, Ayron couldn’t help but think how grateful he was to have such loyal and resourceful men and women serving with him. Of course, that gratitude had to extend to the morden and drakenhawks traveling with them as well. Ayron then turned and began to help his soldiers finish working on the wagon, hoping that they would be able to set out within the hour.

For the next thirty minutes, they worked hard to get the wagon ready for the journey. Just as they were finishing up, Stuart walked up, with Tomak following closely behind. He was holding a hurriedly constructed harness in his hands. Stuart also brought along with him a bag of leather pieces, so that they could make repairs to the harness as they traveled. He and Ayron carefully put the harness on Tomak and then attached the four riveted traces Stuart crafted to the front of the wagon. Two of the traces would facilitate easy steering, and the other two would act as supports. Tomak then pulled the wagon slowly around the yard in front of the blacksmith shop to make sure that the bindings would hold, and that he could turn the wagon when necessary. As Ayron watched Tomak put the repaired wagon through its paces, he couldn’t help but marvel at the grace and stature of the big black-bay morden. They were truly regal and generous creatures. Tomak brought the wagon to a stop in front of Ayron and Stuart. Ayron felt that they were ready to go and was just about to ask Stuart to go see how Clayre was managing, when he heard what sounded like a crowd coming down the path toward them.

Within seconds, a large group of people came into view. Ayron was amazed at the tremendous love and loyalty that the villagers were showing Clayre and Rhys. Every single person that walked down the path was carrying something for them to take on their journey. He was just hoping that they had room on the wagon for all the gifts being offered. The couple that lent them their home to shelter and treat Rhys brought six warm blankets, so that they would not be cold and uncomfortable. Another couple offered two down pillows and a large down pad to put on top of the litter so that Rhys would have a more comfortable ride. Still another couple brought a thick straw-filled pad for Clayre to sit and lie on during her long ride in the wagon. There were also many containers filled with food and beverages offered by the villagers to help them on their journey. Ayron was overwhelmed by their generosity and graciously accepted each gift with thanks. His men put the items that Clayre had chosen to bring for herself and Rhys into a large chest that they’d strapped near the front. By the time they had everything loaded; the wagon looked very full indeed. Ayron found himself giving a silent word of thanks that a morden and not horses would be pulling it to Amarni. Once everything was loaded, Clayre and Ayron thanked everyone once more and then bid them all farewell. They gave the wagon a once over to make sure everything was securely fastened, and then headed to pick up Rhys.

As they drew close to the hut that sheltered Rhys, the four soldiers who’d been left to guard him carried him from the hut and gently placed him down on the litter. Clayre had already lined it with the down pad. She tucked a down pillow beneath his head and covered him with two of the warm blankets. Rhys was awake, but seemed very weak. She gave him some water, climbed into the wagon next to him, and signaled to Ayron that they were ready to go. The whole village turned out to watch them depart. As they started to slowly pull away heading toward the old wagon trail leading north out of the village, Ayron watched as Clayre and Rhys waved good-by to their oldest and dearest friends. Ayron could see Clayre fighting hard to hold back the tears and not give into the deep sorrow that was threatening to consume her, lest Rhys become upset. Ayron’s troops, now mounted, formed a column on either side of the wagon. Alea, one of his soldiers, rode ahead as point to scout the area ahead of them since they were without Keroc, while Krill, Kormir’s drakenhawk, flew behind them scouting for any sign of danger.