Return of the Crown (19 page)

Medina noticed a peregrine falcon circling
the forest. She nudged Mavyn, pointing out the bird, “That falcon
is not from here. It’s searching for something. See what it
wants.”

Mavyn lifted into the air, and with a few
smooth and steady wing beats, she intercepted the circling falcon.
The falcon descended with Mavyn, alighting on a branch across from
Medina.

“It carries a message for the harpies tied to
its foot,” Mavyn cried.

“I do not read. Do any of our kin possess
this skill?”

“No, Medina, not one of us reads. But, the
unicorns are said to be educated. Perhaps they can read it to
you?”

“Wonderful idea, Mavyn. You are a good choice
for second in command. You are very wise.”

Mavyn blushed, color pinking her coppery
cheeks. Her freshly combed hair cascaded down her back. Things had
changed since Medina returned from her encounter with the
Princess.

“I will take the falcon to see Giallag. If
any unicorn can read, he can. Peace be with the clan.” Launching
herself from the branch, Medina took to the sky, the falcon
trailing behind. Soaring over the trees, she spotted the unicorn
herd in a grassy plain. Medina dove down, aiming for the white
stallion standing off to the side. Medina landed on the ground, the
falcon following suit.

“Giallag, I need your help. This falcon
carries a message, but I can’t read,” she wailed.

The stallion pawed the ground and pointed his
horn at the falcon.

Medina untied the note from the falcon’s leg.
She unrolled it, holding it out for Giallag to read.

Giallag read the note aloud, the words
becoming soft brassy notes. “I am Grayvern, the elf, asking the
harpies and unicorns to join us at Brightling River at least two
nights before the Autumn Equinox. All good creatures must join
Princess Ravyn in the fight against the Darkness. The future of
Aigerach rests with us all. Come with the blessing of the
Light.”

Medina stared at Giallag. He’d read the note,
but she didn’t understand a word of unicorn? She hopped up and
down, flapping her wings. “What does it say?” she screeched.

The unicorn herd shifted nervously, horns
emitting uneasy melodies. Trumpeting for silence, Giallag stamped
the ground in frustration. The peregrine, usually somber and
sedate, began hopping about and fluttering her wings. She
understood unicorn and chittered the message to Medina. Medina
crowed in delight. “Falcon, tell the unicorn we harpy will go, and
ask if the unicorn will go as well.”

The peregrine’s screeching cry became a song,
the notes soaring and plummeting. Giallag appeared to understand.
Medina saw his proud head nodding, his horn glinting in the
sun.

“Tell Giallag we will see him at the front
lines.” She smiled, beating her glistening wings and hovering above
the unicorn. “We will fight together for once instead of amongst
ourselves.”

The peregrine relayed the information as
Medina lifted up into the sky, impatient to reach the clan and
start the preparations for the coming days.

Stumbling along the trail after Kialgyn,
Ravyn’s bleary eyes could barely follow the grey shape before her.
Each step threatened to be her last. The large wolf broke into a
trot as he headed down the South slope. Ravyn’s feet were slipping
and sliding across the steep icy ground, her arms wind milling
wildly. A chorus of howls filled the air. Several wolves approached
Kialgyn lowering their heads. The ground leveled, and Ravyn skidded
to a stop. Her hot gasps of air created little clouds before her
face. A large cave opened in the rock wall before her.

“Help this woman to the den before she falls
over. She will tell us her story, then as a pack, we will decide if
she stays or goes. Oakley and Filliu claim she is of the Light and
should be protected.”

Two wolf pups darted out of the cave,
bounding around Ravyn’s feet. They tugged at the hem of her pants,
nearly knocking her over.

“Scamp and Sprit, stop!” a large female
barked at the puppies as she sidled up to Ravyn. “Lumus,” she
growled, “you and I will help her.”

“Rest your hands on us for support.” She
bumped her nose against Ravyn’s palm. Lumus walked to Ravyn’s other
side. Snuffling against her leg, the large female softly growled,
“I am Shera; I too detect the Light all about you. Come, it is dry
inside.”

Oakley and Filliu dragged Blade over the
rough rock into the cave. A small moan escaped his lips as he
bumped across the rough ground. Ravyn collapsed in a heap next to
him, brushing a hand across his sweaty brow.

“Rest, we will watch over him. Rest.” Shera
nuzzled Ravyn’s hand.

Blue eyes glimpsed grey walls and grey fur.
It dimmed to darkness as sleep swept over her.

Oakley sniffed at the bandage around Blade’s
head. “His wound needs cleaning.”

Tugging at the bandage, Shera nodded toward
the cave’s entrance, “I will clean his wounds. You gather a hunting
party; we need fresh meat.” Gently licking Blade’s face, her rough
tongue cleansed the wound.

Sitting in her council room, Zelera stared
down at General Zilge. He nervously scratched the sides of his
legs, clearing his throat repeatedly.

“You’re incompetent, Zilge. Why do I not have
Connor’s head? And how is it you were unable to collect the taxes
that are due? I have no time to chase after you, cleaning up your
messes. Where is the bard who has been stirring things up? Alive or
dead, I want him,” she seethed. The muscle in her jaw bulged as she
ground her teeth in anger.

“I sent ten men after the bard, your
highness, days ago. They never returned,” he paused, eyeing the
exit. “The people are refusing to pay taxes, even when we torch
their villages. They laugh, telling us to go ahead, that your days
are…,” he stopped, unsure if he should finish.

“My days are what?” she managed through
gritted teeth.

“They say your days are numbered, that Ravyn
is returning to take back the crown.”

Zelera tittered, bringing her bony hand to
her crimson lips. “Oh, how little they know. I killed her
yesterday,” she giggled. I crushed her with an avalanche. She’s an
issue no more. Let them have their revolt. Let them come. I will
crush them all beneath my heels, like the insignificant bugs they
are.”

Zilge sighed. She was in a good humor. He
cleared his throat, “Concerning Connor, Your Highness, he’s evaded
us again. Would you scry out a new coordinate? I’m sure we‘ll get
him soon. We are closing in on him; he’s running out of
tricks.”

Eyeing him, Zelera drawled, “Zilge, you just
fouled a perfectly good humor. You had better come up with him this
time, or I will have no further use for you. I will return in an
hour with his latest coordinates. You had better be ready.”

She stormed out of the chambers, doors
slamming into the walls, robes whipping behind her.

Ravyn heard a snuffling sound and felt a wet
tongue scraping across her cheek. Opening one eye she spied a furry
little wolf pup, tongue lolling, “Hello, you little rascal. Thanks
for the wakeup call.” Ruffling his soft tawny fur, she yawned.

Shera raised her head, growling, “Scamp, come
here.” Turning to Ravyn, she said, “Your man the Blade is starting
to stir.”

Ravyn scooted to Blade’s side. His wound was
clean, but his forehead felt hot to her touch.

Spying the waterskin and Blade’s pack, she
scrabbled across the cold floor to retrieve them. Mixing the
healing herbs in a cup with water, she then spooned them into
Blade’s mouth. He swallowed.

Dunking the discarded bandage in the water,
she then dabbed his brow. Thrashing weakly from side to side, he
cried, “Ravyn, no, Ravyn.”

“Shh, Blade, it’s alright. I’m here. We’re
safe. The wolves have taken us in. Shh, just rest.” Kissing his
closed eyelids, she whispered reassurances. He relaxed, settling
back to sleep.

Oakley dragged a hunk of deer over to Ravyn.
“Eat. You must be hungry. Then tell us your tale.”

Ravyn chuckled. “Oakley, do you have any
firewood? I don’t eat raw meat. I cook it over a fire first.”

Wrinkling his nose, Oakley growled, “Char the
flesh? That’s terrible.” He padded softly towards the cave
entrance, “I will get you some, but it will take time. The trees
are a ways below us.”

“Never mind, I’ll try something else. Just a
moment.” Focusing on the magic within, Ravyn smiled, feeling it
pooling within her. Each time she used it, it came more freely. She
pictured the wood littering the ground where they’d last camped
with Giallag. She collected small branches, pinecones, and needles
for kindling. Pulling the imagined pile from the forest, she placed
it stacked and ready before her. The Light coursed through her,
making her feel giddy. Directing it to the woodpile, a branch burst
into flames, and a fire was soon crackling before her.

Oakley sat on his haunches cocking his head.
“She’s not surrounded by the Light,” he breathed in awe, “she’s
filled with it.”

Placing the pot on the fire with some water,
deer meat, and herbs for flavoring, Ravyn then settled back. She
rested against the cave wall. “I will tell my story now.”

All eyes focused on her as she began to weave
her tale, starting with the day on the ship. She kept the story
concise, but when she finally finished, the stew was bubbling,
waiting for consumption.

Kialgyn rose to his feet, all eyes turning to
him. “I had called for a vote, once her story was told. Now, I
think, that is not necessary. We must care for Ravyn and the Blade,
until he is well. Then we must get them off this mountain so they
may fight the evil in Aigerach. Do all agree?”

A chorus of howls and bays affirmed Kialgyn’s
decision.

Smiling at all the furry bodies surrounding
her, Ravyn laughed, “I’ve made many wonderful friends on this
journey. It is my honor to call you friends as well.”

Her stomach rumbling, Ravyn reached for two
cups. She filled one with all the stew, the other with broth. After
eating her stew with a stale biscuit from their provisions, her
hunger was satisfied. Moving to Blade, she spooned broth in his
mouth, a sip at a time, till she was satisfied he’d had enough.

Shera touched her nose to Blade’s brow. “His
fever is down. He will recover. You should get more rest; it has
been a long day.”

Scamp and Sprit bounded across the floor,
pouncing on each other, crashing into Ravyn’s legs. She reached
down, scratching Sprit behind the ears while Scamp pushed his head
under her other hand, his little tail wagging and swishing across
the floor.

“Scamp, Sprit, you scalawags, let the
princess rest,” growled Shera. The two pups stood, tucking their
tails, and turned to walk away.

“No, Shera, that’s ok, I find them
comforting. Their playfulness cheers me.” Ravyn said, pulling the
pups on to her lap.

“When you tire of them, do not be afraid to
shoo them away.” Shera growled softly at her pups, then walked
away.

Ravyn caressed the pups’ soft fur, and they
licked at her hands. She rubbed their bellies, scratched their
ears, and soon all three lay sleeping in a tangled heap against the
den wall.

Connor arrived in Shadow Glen at noon. His
appearance, now altered with a little help from the Light, was that
of a middle-aged woman. She was plump, with mousey brown hair
streaked with silver. Looking about, he noticed only quiet empty
shops and deserted streets. Not so much as a dog barked.

Making his way through town, he came to the
village’s only inn, Shadowkeep. A great crowd stood in the
courtyard; their excitement dimmed as Connor ambled into the
courtyard.

“What’s all the commotion?” Connor chirped in
his high falsetto.

“We’ve heard news of a traveling bard
bringing news and songs. We thought he would come today. We’re
hoping to hear his news. Did you pass him along the road?” a big
husky man asked.

Connor thought a moment, “I saw a man a day’s
journey back. He had a lute across his back. Might’ve been the man
you seek, but Zelera’s men surrounded him.”

A great cry of anguish rose from the
villagers.

“But,” Connor chirped, “brave men from
Havenrest rescued him. He is free!”

A cheer rose to the sky. “Did he come down
this road ma’am? Did you see where he went?” The husky man
cried.

“I shared a meal with him, but our roads
split after that. He said he’d be hiding now, with Zelera wanting
him dead and all.”

“What way did he go? Where did you part? We
must find him,” the husky man shouted frantically. He stood
directly in front of Connor, his breath smelling of stale ale and
his body reeking of sweat. Connor took a step back.

Feigning nervousness, Connor mumbled, “He
said something about Land’s End. Said he’d get as far from Zelera
as he could. That’s all I know, sir. Now, if you’ll let me by, I’ll
get a meal and a room. I’ve traveled far, and I’m very tired.”

Stepping aside the husky man called several
men to him. “We must find this bard; our lives depend on it.” He
turned to an older woman wearing a food-stained apron. “Get us
supplies for several days journey; we must be off at once.”

“But, sir, I’ve only enough supplies to keep
the inn afloat. I’ve customers to feed. There are inns aplenty
along the road; you can get provisions as you ride.”

He raised his hand as if to strike her; then
he paused, pulling it back. He cleared his throat, “Madam Innkeep,
I’m sure if you look in your larders, you will find provisions to
aid the cause. We’ll return and share the news of the bard.” He
smiled, baring yellow-stained teeth.

Hetty, the Innkeep, backed away slowly,
slightly bowing. “I’ll see what I can procure for you. Give me a
moment, sirs.”