The Fabled Beast of Elddon
Read The Fabled Beast of Elddon Online
Authors: David Barber
The Fabled Beast of Elddon
by David E. Barber
This is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are
either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
The Fabled Beast of Elddon
Copyright © 2016 by David
E. Barber
Cover art by Douglas
Shuler
Bibliosis
Denver, Colorado
www.davidebarber.com
Printed in the United
States of America
Acknowledgments
To
say the path to publication of this book was a long one would be a monumental
understatement. It has taken a lifetime and involved more people than I could
ever possibly mention on a single page. However, I would like to thank some of
the individuals who were intimately involved in this project and helped to make
it a reality.
To
Doug for his amazing art and tireless devotion to the realms of science fiction
and fantasy. To Freya for listening to my ideas and always knowing the best
books to read. To Dave for showing me the greatest castles of the British
Isles, and for that one night in Dornie. To Denny for his nobility and
enthusiasm, to Sarah for her steadfast love of language, to Kris for always
being my sister. And to Scott, Bill, and Steve, heroes all.
I
also want to thank Diana and Elisabeth for offering their proofreading and
editing skills, and for taking time to help when I needed it most. And finally,
I want to thank my long suffering wife, Wendy, for loving me and keeping me
sane, and for watching the extended versions of The Lord of the Rings trilogy
over and over again.
Table of Contents
1
The
beast arrived in the darkness before dawn. It swept down out of the mountains,
flying fast, trailing smoke and steam in its wake. Loth stood on a hilltop,
watching as it came. He was both fascinated and horrified by the spectacle, finding
it difficult to look away. He had heard tell of the monster while traveling through
the city of Linheath and the story had piqued his curiosity. He had decided to
see for himself if the tale was true. Now there could be no doubt.
The
beast appeared to be a chimera, a nightmarish combination of a lion, a wyvern, a
ram, and an eagle, but one of epic proportions. The massive body was hump-backed
and covered in both scales and tawny fur, with leathery wings that measured fifty
feet across. It had a long segmented tail that ended in a spiked, mace-like
appendage. Its head was like nothing Loth had ever seen, vaguely feline, with
enormous tapered ears, an eagle’s beak, and a pair of ram’s horns curving back
from the top of its skull. Its eyes were two points of baleful light and
tendrils of smoke trailed from its nostrils.
The
beast flew past the hill, came around in a wide arc, and suddenly dropped toward
the valley below. Its powerful wings beat out a rhythm that caused the massive
body to jerk and bob. The mouth yawned as it strafed a field of wheat, a
furnace blast issuing from between its jaws. Flames rose up in the night, devouring
the long stalks and driving back the darkness.
Loth’s
view was obscured for several minutes as billowing clouds of smoke rose into
the air. Then he saw that the monster had come to ground. It crouched there, beside
a cottage at the far end of the field. This was no cotter’s farmhouse, but a
grand estate. The cottage was a tall, meticulously cared for structure of wood
and plaster with a thatched roof. The doors stood open and he heard shouting--terrified
voices and shrill cries of desperation. The sounds chilled his blood, breaking
the spell that had held him immobile.
Loth
cursed himself for a dullard and a fool. He leapt down the hill, plunging through
the trees, running swiftly over the uneven ground, dodging dark trunks and grasping
branches. He reached the base of the hill, emerging at the edge of the field. The
air was thick with sulfurous fumes and the heat of the fire took his breath
away. Loth veered to the right, keeping low, and made his way toward the
cottage, moving fast, but knowing he was already too late.
The
beast rose from the ground, the thrum of its wings pushing back the flames and
causing the smoke to swirl. Loth, his eyes tearing and blinded by smoke, unslung
his bow and fit an arrow to the string, drawing and firing in one swift motion.
A second arrow followed the first, both finding their mark, striking the
beast’s belly with a sound like a hammer on wood. But the monster did not slow
or even seem to notice.
Loth
stumbled, tripping over a prone figure on the grass. He paused to look at the
body. The man was dead, his yellow hair spread out around his head, eyes
staring at nothing. His torso had been slashed from shoulder to belly. The
wound looked as if it had been made by a sword. A claw perhaps? He had no time
to ponder it, for at that moment a scream burst from inside the cottage.
The
monster wheeled above him, emitting a roar that reverberated off the
surrounding hills. The jaws gaped once more as a second burst of flame struck
the cottage, bathing it in crimson. Loth was thrown to the ground by the force
of the blast. The walls of the cottage collapsed and the thatched roof went up
like a torch. There was another scream, a wail of pain and terror that quickly
faded.
Loth
climbed to his feet, shaken and unsteady. He scrambled over the pile of burning
rubble, lifting a charred beam and glimpsing a figure beneath. He pulled up
boards twisted by the heat and tossed them aside. The flames gnawed hungrily at
the wood and he feared the remaining structure might collapse.
He
found her at the very bottom, bloodied and slashed, her clothing torn and body
shaking. One arm was twisted at a terrible angle and blood pulsed from an open
wound in her leg. He lifted her as gently as he could, but still she cried out,
sobbing and whimpering like a wounded animal.
Cradling
her to him Loth turned, moving slowly lest he stumble and fall back into the
fiery ruin. When he reached the safety of the grass, he laid her gently on the ground,
in a little square of green among the blackened patches of scorched earth. The
woman clutched at him, gripping the front of his tunic with desperate strength.
“Elluen,”
she said, her eyes fixing on him.
“Yes,”
Loth said. “I’m elluen. Fear not, I will not harm you. You’re safe.” Loth
looked up at the sky, but there was no sign of the beast. It had gone as
swiftly as it had appeared.
“They
took...” the woman gritted her teeth, her breath coming short and quick. She
was not young, probably middle-aged for a human, but pretty in an ordinary sort
of way, with golden hair like her husband. “They took them,” she said at last, her
voice cracking.
“They?”
Loth said, puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”
“Demons,”
the woman whispered, her breathing ragged.
“Demons?”
Loth’s mind was spinning. The woman was delirious, talking nonsense. Certainly
the beast he had seen could be called a demon, but there had been only the one,
gods be praised.
“They
killed my husband,” the woman said, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes,
“and took my children. Three strong boys. Good boys, all of them.”
“Who
took your children?” Loth asked. “Who was it that did this thing?”
“I
told you!” the woman cried. A spasm shook her frame and she retched, coughing up
blood. “The demons took them, demons out of Isod. They--
“ The
woman clutched at her chest with her good arm, her eyes wincing in pain.
“Easy
now.” Loth said. “I can help.” He had allowed the woman’s words to distract him
but there was more he could do.
“Be
still,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. He said a small prayer to
Issondenarion and to Orroden, lifting his other hand and drawing lumens in the
air. He began a spell of healing, whispering words in the language of the
ancient Lunovarions. A warm glow spread out from beneath his fingers, creeping
over the woman’s skin like water across sand. But instead of easing her pain his
efforts only seemed to increase it. A spasm shook her body and she screamed in agony.
Loth
withdrew his hand, tightening his fingers into a fist. Her wounds were beyond
his skill. The arm or the leg he might have healed, but something was broken
inside her, something he could not see.
“Find
them,” the woman pleaded, lifting her head. “Swear to me that you will find
them. Please.”
“I
will,” Loth said. “You have my word.”
The
woman gave a little sigh. Her eyes fluttered closed and she settled back, her
body relaxing as life drained from her tortured frame. She would speak no more.
Loth stood and took a step back. He was covered in ash, his clothing smeared
with the woman’s blood. He swore softly. He had come too late.
Find
the children. Three boys taken. But to where and by whom? Demons, the woman
said. Could it really have been devils that killed her husband and took her
children? If so, why had he not seen them? And what of the beast? Why did it
attack this cottage on this night? Too many questions without answers. Regardless,
he would find the woman’s children. He could still do that much.
Loth
stood over the woman’s body for a long time, until the sun rose and the fire
began to dwindle. No one had come, and that was strange. Surely there were
neighbors, other cottages, and farms close by. He had seen many from his perch
on the hilltop. Were they all afraid? Another question he had no answer for.
Loth
lifted the woman and carried her behind the cottage, to a spot in the shade of
a great oak tree. He laid her there, as gently as if she were a sleeping child.
Then he went to fetch the body of the man, carrying him to the tree and placing
him beside his wife. The two had likely spent a lifetime together. He would make
sure they remained together in death.
To
one side of the ruined cottage was a small walled garden with a shed beside it.
The shed had been knocked down and partially burned, but inside Loth located a
well-used spade. He set aside his jerkin and his cloak, leaving his sword, his
bow, and his quiver of arrows next to them. He returned to the spot beneath the
tree, striking the spade into the dirt. He dug, making a hole that was wide
enough and deep enough to hold the man and his wife.
Elluen
burned their dead on pyres, placing the ashes in ornately carved urns, which
then decorated the shelves of vast halls and mausoleums. But humans preferred
the earth, so Loth placed the couple in the ground with the tree above them and
a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves.
The
sound of horses drew Loth’s attention and he looked up to see five mounted men coming
along the road toward the cottage. Four of the men were soldiers, clad in
leather and mail with short swords at their waists. Two carried crossbows, and
each man had a round shield emblazoned with the swan of Elddon hanging from his
saddle.
The
fifth man appeared to be a knight. He wore a green tabard, trimmed in gold,
over chain mail, with a conical helm on his head and a long sword hanging from
his belt. The soldiers halted at the edge of the yard while the knight rode
forward several more paces, pausing within a few feet of where Loth stood.
“Who
are you?” demanded the knight leaning forward in his saddle. He was a tall man,
as tall as Loth even.
Loth
inclined his head, keeping his eyes on the newcomers. “I am Lothanarion
Tharthian Filanderan Aquillean of Ellyldan.”
“That’s
a mouthful,” the knight said. He stared at Loth, taking in his tall, lean
frame, pale skin, and long white gold hair. “You’re elluen. We don’t see many
of your kind in this part of the world.”
“No,”
Loth said, “I suppose you wouldn’t.”
The
knight sat watching him for several moments, as if expecting him to say more.
For some reason Loth took an almost immediate dislike to the man. There was
something in his voice that set Loth’s teeth on edge. The man was not to be
trusted.
“I
am Sir Egan Stroud, steward to Baron Leofrick an Elddon and keeper of his peace.
We came searching for a beast and we find you here instead. What business do
you have on this farm?”
“The
farm is gone,” Loth said, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. “You’ve come
too late to do more than mourn, and the beast you mention is long since
departed.”
“So
it would seem, but you haven’t answered my question.” Sir Egan’s demeanor grew
serious. “Why are you here? Did you know these people?”
“No,”
Loth admitted. “I am but a traveler who was passing this way and happened to
witness the beast’s attack. I found a woman, still alive, buried in the rubble
of her burning house. She told me that demons had killed her husband and taken
her three sons. I did what I could, but she died soon after.”
“That
is a sad tale, if it is true, and not the first I have heard this morning.”
“What
reason have I to lie?” Loth gave the knight a sharp look. “I tried to help...”
He was suddenly aware that he did not even know who the woman was or what her
sons were called. “I do not know their names.”
“Her
name was Ella, and her husband was called Hodge. I knew them both, since I was
a boy in fact.” The knight leaned back and laid a hand on the pommel of his
sword. “They were rich, to be sure, and favored by our goodly lord. He will be
saddened by their passing.”
The
knight considered Loth, rubbing at his chin. “The truth of your words is not
for me to say. I am no judge of these matters. You’ll have to come with us now and
explain yourself to Baron Leofrick. He’ll want the story from your own lips.”
“I
have done nothing wrong,” Loth said. “You have no right to detain me.” Loth
glanced to the place where his sword and long bow lay.
Sir
Egan followed his gaze, that faint smile curling his lips. “Call it an
invitation then, but one I strongly suggest you accept. Consider my point of
view. I find you here, a stranger and an elluen, with blood on your hands,
standing over the freshly dug grave of a man and woman I’ve known my whole life.
Does that not seem to warrant some explanation?”
“I
have given you explanation,” Loth said.
“Come
now, friend. Don’t make me do something I might feel bad about later. You’re
one man, alone, unarmed, and there are five of us. Be reasonable.”
Loth
looked again to his weapons. There was no way he could reach them without a
fight. Foolish of him to leave them so far out of reach, but there was nothing
for it now.
The
soldiers drew closer, sensing trouble. “If you run, we will ride you down,” Sir
Egan said. “If you resist we will be forced to kill you.”
“Oh,
I mean to resist,” Loth said, his cool eyes turning glacial. “I am no man and even
without a sword I am far from helpless. Let’s see what you make of the Winds of
Prathos.”
