Also they have two book launches at The Hebden Bridge Library - Amanda Dalton Poetry collection 'Stray' Friday 11 May 7.30pm and Paul Barker 'Hebden Bridge: a sense of belonging' Thursday 17 May 7pm.
For my new followers on Twitter, I am re-posting my first three chapters of my YA fantasy novel 'Thorde: the keeper of the trysk' for them to peruse:
THORDE:
THE KEEPER OF THE TRYSK
CHAPTER ONE
Be careful what you wish for
They were coming at
dawn. The elders had consulted with the
truth-seekers and they had foretold of a mighty battle. Fearless warriors would ride upon their
mormoths and scaranx. I had heard tell
of these creatures many times around the fire.
Tales of their size, ferocious teeth and claws bigger even than wyverns,
which could snap a man in two, or cause the blood to leave your body as a river
bursts its banks. It was said that they
had a ring of fiery fur around their necks and the devastation wrought by their
long tails with its spiky ball at the end, was legendary. I had heard of many men that had died that
way. As if that was not enough to chill
my blood, the truth-seekers also prophesised that the sky would flood with the
beating wings of the pterodyls carrying men who could swoop down upon all with
swift and terrifying accuracy. I was
eternally grateful that I had not been born a truth-seeker (to have to live
with visions and futures that you could not alter was a heavy burden) but not
being one held no comfort either.
I know what you are
thinking? How do I know so many things
that only Kings and trusted servants would know? Am I born of noble blood or work high up in
the castle echelons? Hardly! Or do I hang around like a thief in the
night, watching and waiting to hear things I should not be privy to? Well no, that’s not it either; I am just
Thorde, the keeper of the animals. Now I’ll
bet you are thinking ‘that’s nothing’, but I assure you I use my position to
its full advantage. The Knights all use
my services and I even have full access to the King’s noble steed, the highest
honour someone like me could have.
That’s how I find out the things I do and sometimes, like now, I really
wish that I didn’t.
They have told the
people, obviously, because we’ve to be ready for battle, but they have not
warned us who and what are coming, only that they are. The King has announced that all must fight
and when I say all, I do mean all. They
thrust a helmet upon my head and gave me a sword and a shield. Me, who has never held a weapon in my life
and the worst thing is, I know what’s coming and I know we don’t stand a
chance. Mormoths are bad enough, I’ve
seen them, standing three times taller than our strongest stallions, but
pterodyls and scaranx, well, best weapons a man can have in his armoury other
than a wyvern. I can only hope that
their truth-seekers have not mastered the language of the beasts, only the
truly gifted can do that. But what if
they have? What if they have a fire-talker
or a Dragon Master? We can use the
boiling oil, the flaming arrows, all our best defences from behind the castle
walls, but to have the power of fire in flight, that is a weapon indeed.
For now dark covers
our world, a comforting blanket, but it will not be long before tendrils of
light reach out across the sky. I glance
down at my shield and sword for what seems like the hundredth time and I feel
the helmet slide forward on my head. It
doesn’t really fit properly, but then it wasn’t made for me. I don’t want to think about who it was made
for or why I could now be the new owner, because that had lots of possibilities
and none of them could be good. It did
not do to dwell on these things. What I
need is a distraction, for I now know for sure that I am not going to get any
rest this night. Nothing calms me like
the company of horses. Most animals hold
an attraction for me, but horses are the most calming and I know, the most
understanding. For they, unlike me, have
seen many battles. I know it isn’t a
distraction exactly, but surely it’s better to be forewarned in this battle,
because hiding or fleeing is not an option.
There are eyes everywhere and the whole castle is locked down like the
fortress we now needed it to be.
I make my way carefully
to the stables, passing many sleeping comrades, I envy them their rest. But I am by no means the only one awake at
this ungodly hour. Many are sat staring
into space, fear etched plainly on their faces.
From what I can see in this section of the castle, we are a very rag-tag
bunch indeed, hardly a match for the Arberians. In the distance I can just make
out the sounds of our Knights, blade upon blade singing with the power of their
conviction.
I hear the snorts
and gentle neighs of the horses before I see them and I know they feel my need,
welcome my presence. I hold my breath as
I enter the stables, ready to leave at a moment’s notice if it turns out I am
not the only one here. I do not want
anyone witnessing what I’m about to do.
I have long ago learned the language of the horses. It is a fascinating and complex method, but
once you break down the basics, you can indeed converse with them. What seems like random neck, head, ears or even
mouth movements are in fact a form of communication that yield more than just
friendship with one of God’s most beautiful creatures. We understand each other completely and some
of them I count as my closest friends.
You don’t come into contact with many people in my job, well, people
that would want to talk to someone like me anyway, but in my experience, horses
can be a lot nicer than the majority of people, so I don’t really feel like I’m
missing out. In many ways I am far luckier
than most. I have a job, which means enough
money to eat well most days and a roof over my head. This means I’m not as
invisible as most, so I was instantly seen as a potential fighter when news of
the battle necessitated new recruits. That, and the fact that I have no parents to
stand up for me, had sealed my fate, as it had many others.
Peros is the first
to greet me. He’s the tallest and
strongest of the horses and as such, you won’t be surprised to learn that he is
the King’s steed. Black as the darkest
night, mane long and luxurious as a fine maiden’s hair, his proud neck touches
mine and I close my hands at my sides to I acknowledge the welcome. At this, my nerves begin to abate and I feel
calmer than I have since I learned the terrible news.
Silently we converse
and I learn more of the mormoths, scaranx, pterodyls and even the Arberians,
well, Peros’ opinion of them anyway.
Unsurprisingly, it is not good.
When he exhales, his ears press right back into his head and looking deep
into his eyes, I swear I can almost see the battle where he lost his brother,
though I know he was not there. Arros
had been a brave stallion. He’d stood a
couple of hands smaller than Peros, but had matched his brother in many
ways. He had warned him of the scaranx,
for Peros had never met one in battle.
Arros had learned through trial and error how to escape with your life
when faced with such a foe.
Unfortunately, there had been nothing Arros could do against the power
of the wyvern and he had not stood a chance.
I knew Peros’ fear matched my own.
Although the truth-seekers had not spoken of the wyverns, this weapon
could not be ruled out. There were those
among many tribes that harnessed this gift.
Over what seemed
like an age, Peros and his friends taught me all they knew. I’d received lessons from them before, but
never had it been so vital. I thanked
them for their kindness and Peros advised me to seek out a human to show me the
basics in the way of battle. They could
not help with swords and shields and although I thought I knew what to do with
the shield (you hold it in front of you and use it to stop someone from killing
you right?), I had absolutely no idea how to wield a sword. I had seen the Knights jousting, which looked
terrifying (and that was not even a real fight), but I had never actually held
one until now. I did not have much time,
the truth-seekers had spoken of dawn and it would take time to find someone
suitable.
I had already spent
much of the night conversing with my friends and their counsel would be
invaluable, but I knew this was just as important. In my haste to leave the stables unseen, I
tripped over my own sword and ended up sat in a pile of something
foul-smelling.
“Well, that’s one
way to get the enemy not to come anywhere near you,” I heard from the shadows
before a skinny boy showed himself in the meagre light from the small torch he
was holding.
Rising in as
dignified a manner as I could manage, considering the circumstances, I faced
him with a pithy reply hovering on my lips, as he swung his sword in a perfect
arc and aimed it directly at my chest. I
took a step back in alarm.
“No, I think you’ll
find it’s not working,” he said before bursting into laughter, though he was
trying to hide it behind his free hand.
To my immense
relief, he retracted his sword, placed it against the stable wall and held out
his hand. Hesitantly, I took it.
“Sorry about that, I
just couldn’t resist. Anybody would
think you’d never held a sword before.”
The twinkle in his eye broke my composure; after all, I am sure I did
look pretty stupid.
“That’s because I
haven’t. Nor a shield, or wear a helmet,
I’m a stable-hand” I laughed and shook his hand warmly. Let’s face it, I could probably do with his
help; he, at least, looked like he knew what he was doing.
“Ah, that explains
it then. Well, let’s see what we can do
about that.”
He came closer and
pushed my helmet back, tilting it slightly.
I could see much better now and although it still didn’t fit, it no
longer felt like it was going to fall off my head at any moment.
He handed me my
shield and sword and then wielded his own in a very convincing manner. I copied him as best I could, but then I
yelped as his sword connected with mine and I felt the power of it reverberate
up my arm.
“Ow,” I yelled,
thinking that that would make him stop, but he only came at me harder. I danced around like a jester trying to field
the blows with both my shield and sword. Every time his weapons collided with mine, I
felt it down to my very bones. My arms
were getting more and more tired and I swear the sword and shield got
heavier. I was out of breath, sore and
more frightened than before, because it seemed I was definitely not cut out for
this.
“Saran,” he shouted
over the sound of our swords colliding.
“What?” I yelled
back dodging a particularly low blow. If
I didn’t know any better I would think he was trying to distract me.
“Saran’s the name,
blacksmiths son” he qualified as he easily dodged my feeble attempt at getting
a blow in whilst he was answering the question.
“Oh, Thorde,” I
answered, “nice to meet you, I think.”
To my relief, he
stepped back and lowered his weapons.
He’d a large smile across his face and I had to mentally convince myself
that he wasn’t laughing at me.
“Not bad,” he
murmured and I felt myself blush; I knew I was rubbish, but it was kind of him
to say that.
“Tried my best but
it’s obvious I am not going to last very long in this battle,” I admitted, putting
my shield and sword down so I could rub my arms where they were aching like
they were on fire.
“You’ll do alright,”
he said, “you fielded all my blows well to say you’ve never done this
before. Need to build up your stamina as
you’re out of breath already and I can see that your muscles need working
more-“
“Well that’s not
going to happen is it? They’ll be here
at dawn.”
“We better keep at
it then,” he smiled as he pointed his sword at mine, “pick them up.”
I reluctantly did as
I was bid and we began again. He was
good and I was awful and the concentration on his face intensified the more
blows that I fielded. I was beginning to
worry that he actually wanted to land one.
My arms were stretched with the weight of the shield and sword, my lungs
felt like they were bursting out of my chest and for a moment, I thought that I
might be better off if a wyvern came and got me before the warriors arrived; at
least that way it would be quick and therefore more painless. As I thought this, my opponent swung his
sword and it connected with my helmet before I’d chance to stop it. My head felt weird and I could hear a strange
swooshing sound in my ears. To my
amazement, Saran stepped back and swung away from me, his shield and sword
raised in protection. That was when I
saw it, even through my hazy vision, it was unmistakable. A wyvern, flying towards us with its mouth
wide; the swooshing sound was its wings and he seriously looked like he was
going to let loose with the flames. I
know they say be careful what you wish for, but this was ridiculous.
CHAPTER TWO
Can anyone else hear that screaming?
I quickly adopted
the stance of my new friend, because so far he knew better what to do than I,
peering out from under my shield and sword.
The wyvern was swooping down with fire streaming upon the shield of my
companion. I could not tell if he was
okay.
“You alright under
there?” and hoped that an answer would be forthcoming. I was under no illusions; I would need him if
I wanted to get out of this.
“Yeah, but now I
know what a pig feels like on a spit; it’s so hot under here.”
I was amazed that he
was still alive, but at least it proved that cowering under these things was
the way to go.
“Try and distract it
or something and then I can attack it whilst it chases you.”
“Oh yeah like that’s
a good idea?” I mumbled under my breath. I mean, I was sorry it was aiming at him, but then
again, I was glad it wasn’t raining fire down on me. Not to mention the teeth glistening behind
the waterfall of fire. However, Saran had
helped me, so I came out from under the cover of my shield and held up my sword
in my best knight stance.
“You leave my friend
alone,” I yelled, trying to ignore the fact that my sword was shaking. To my surprise and obviously Saran’s, the wyvern
closed its jaws and I distinctly heard Saran drop his weapons. Before I had
time to register this fully, the thing landed next to me and to my shame, I took
one look at it and began running like I have never run before.
I didn’t make it
very far of course, it was a lot faster than me and it had wings, but as I
cowered before it waiting to die (and yes, with my eyes closed); I hoped Saran
would be able to do something, anything, to help me. I could feel its hot breath on my face and
knew that any minute now I’d be burned to a crisp - or it could just rip me to
shreds with those nasty-looking claws, or eat me, its choice I guess. As the buzzing in my ears (fear I suppose)
accelerated, I heard another noise,
“Do that again,” I
heard distinctly.
“Do what?” I
answered, sure that this was not what I wanted to be the last thing I heard
before I died.
“Tell it to stop.”
Had he lost his
mind? I opened my eyes to tell him just
that, when I stupidly looked up. The wyvern
was looking down at me with its huge mouth open, its head off to one side. But it didn’t look like it wanted to eat me;
it looked like it was waiting for me to say something. Well, obviously I had lost my mind too,
because before I could stop myself I found myself saying,
“Yes stop that, we
haven’t done anything to you.”
The magnificent
creature bowed its head and leaned forward, looking for all the world like it
was acknowledging my request, before raising its eye level to mine once
more. Now I was certain that I had gone
mad. What was the last thing I could
remember as being true? When the knights
had forced the helmet, shield and sword upon me, I think. Well, that explained it. I’d got so scared that I had lost my sanity,
or I’d fallen asleep and was having some crazy fear-induced dream that I would
wake up from soon. I closed my eyes and
opened them again, but the wyvern and Saran were still there.
“You didn’t say you
were a Dragon Master,” Saran exclaimed and his face told me that this time (and
probably the only time, so I ought to make the most of it) he was the one in
awe of me.
“I didn’t know I
was,” I admitted reluctantly (well, I knew it wouldn’t last).
“We definitely stand
a better chance with a wyvern and a Dragon Master, even an inexperienced Dragon
Master, on our side,” he crowed running to my side, “surely the great army of
Arberia cannot deal with that so easily.”
“If the truth-seekers
are to be believed, we’re going to need more than one wyvern to stop them,” I
sighed, “what we need is a plan.”
The wyvern let out a
mighty screech that hurt our ears, rattling the very teeth in our heads. Saran and I tried to cover them to block the
noise to lessen the damage, but in our distraction, we did not notice it
move. In a flash, we had each been
grabbed by a vast talon and were being lifted away from the castle.
“What did you do
that for?” Saran yelled at me over the sound of the wind and the wings beating.
“I didn’t do
anything, it did,” I shouted back. I was
holding on tightly to my shield and sword but I wasn’t sure whether the helmet
would stay on my head. Saran looked
quite relaxed considering the circumstances and he glanced down,
“It looks so small
from up here.” He looked at the shape of
the castle disappearing into the night, “I never thought I would see it from
this angle.” He was grinning, he was
actually grinning.
“Yeah, who thought
we’d ever fly,” I mumbled, not really caring whether he heard me or not.
“We're flying!” he
bellowed and I suppose if I wasn’t quite so frightened of the beast dropping
me, I might find have found it fairly exciting too.
I mean I wasn’t
dead, I wouldn’t have to fight now and it appeared that I was not just a
stable-hand after all. I was a Dragon
Master.
* * * *
It is harder than
you might imagine, to try and hold a conversation whilst flying under a wyvern,
if the sound of its wings doesn’t muffle the words, the air whistling past
does. We tried for a while, but when it
became obvious that all we were getting were sore throats, we stopped trying to
bellow to each other over the noise.
Looking down wasn’t
an option either, because the sky was still dark and we were going so fast, I
think it’d all be just a blur any way.
Then again, maybe it’s best not to know where we are, because that way I
can’t panic any more than I already am.
Yes, back at the
castle we were destined to come under attack at dawn, but being held in the
clutches of a wyvern flying at top speed was not such a picnic either. I could not get the image of it dropping me
out of my mind and although I was clutching on for dear life to my shield and
sword, I was convinced that at any moment I was going to lose them or my
helmet. The way things were going, I was
definitely going to need them some time soon.
It was hard not to
think about how the wyvern had understood me.
Was I really a Dragon Master? I
had never even seen a wyvern egg, let alone a real fire-breathing adult and I
was sure that I would have noticed if a Mystic had given me powers. There were few Mystics now, the Arberians had
seen to that, but I know there are some out there somewhere, but surely if I’d
come across one and they had gifted me powers, they would have mentioned
it? I would also like to think that the
truth-seekers might have mentioned that I was going to be snatched into the
claws of a wyvern and flown off into the night.
I laughed out loud; clearly I wasn’t important enough to warrant a
conversation, let alone a vision.
My stomach lurched
as the wyvern plummeted downwards in what seemed to me like a death fall. I didn’t know how far away the ground was,
but I prayed that it was not jagged rocks or freezing sea beneath us. Then I realised that water was probably the
best option as this thing was going to land and I’m no expert, but I assume
they land on their legs. Because it was
dark, I had no chance to judge distances enough to jump off at the last minute,
even if I could untangle myself from the sharp claws.
Before I‘d chance to
come up with a good plan, or for Saran to try and shout any advice, we were
unceremoniously dropped onto the waiting padding of a large hay bale.
I readjusted my
helmet and picked up the shield and sword that I’d dropped in the slight fall and
searched for Saran in the darkness. He
was further along the hay bale but intact.
This was strange, because I could definitely hear screaming.
So if the screaming
wasn’t Saran and it wasn’t me (even I would know if I was screaming because it
would usually be accompanied by running), where was it coming from? Or, more to the point, who was it coming from?
It was hard to see,
but I was sure that the noise was coming from above me and I knew the only
things above me were the sky and the wyvern, but wyverns don’t scream
right? They screech, if earlier was
anything to go by. I really wished I had
a light but of course we could be anywhere and I’m pretty sure that if there
are hay bales, we’re probably in a field; hopefully not ruining the crop of
some poor farmer. The wyvern let out a
long flame of fire and the screaming got louder and thanks to the light of the
fire, now I could see why. There, on the
middle of the wyverns’ tail, was some idiotic person clinging on for dear life
and screaming as if their life depended on it – which it probably did.
“Where did you come
from?” Saran yelled from beside me and for a moment I thought he was talking to
me, but then I realised he was also looking up at the person holding on to the
thrashing tail.
“I’m sorry, I’m
sorry, I meant no harm, I just - I needed to talk to you. Please can you call your dragon off?” came
the muffled voice from somewhere on the wyverns tail.
“It’s a wyvern and I
don’t think it is really mine,” I answered, wondering as I said it, if it
indeed was, “but why should I?”
“Please, just tell
it to stop. I don’t think I can hold on
much longer and it’s a long way to the ground,” the voice sounded scared and high
pitched. Did I sound like that when I
was scared?
I looked at Saran to
see whether he thought calling off the wyvern was a good idea and he shrugged,
which I took as a yes, but as I commanded the wyvern to release, he faced the
newcomer in a defensive pose. Great, it
appeared I now had a wyvern and a protector.
“Who are you and what
do you want?” Saran demanded with menace and as I knew only too well how good
he was with that sword, I hoped that this would not end badly. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the sight of
blood just yet.
“I am Edla and I
need your help,” she answered through the billowing fronds of her hair and if
Saran was surprised to learn that she was a girl, he did not show it.
“You will need more
than his help if you don’t explain why you followed us,” he promised.
‘Followed us’ was a
bit of an understatement, but I guess he had a point.
“I am a truth-ling
and I foresaw your escape from the Castle,” she announced with no trace of fear
left in her voice now considering the sword Saran was wielding. If anything, that just seemed to make Saran
angrier and he took a deliberate step closer.
“A truth-ling? You could be anything, a spy, a traitor or
even an Arberian.” His sword, now aimed
squarely at her throat, did not move an inch, “Prove it.”
She closed her eyes
and I thought she was going to faint, but then she opened them and stared at me
and whispered,
“The dawn is almost
upon us, the sun will rise from the East and we will journey through the forest
that is at the edge of this place to a stone altar.”
It was a strain to
hear her and as she closed her eyes once more, the sky did indeed begin to
lighten towards the East, but that didn’t seem to have placated Saran any.
“Why, I could have
guessed it would be light soon and the sun usually rises in the East. You need to be more specific,” Saran sneered
as the light slowly gave shape to our shadows.
The girl opened her
eyes and snapped,
“It doesn’t work
that way! I can’t pick and choose what I
am given; I only see truths that are meant to be seen” and her wide blue eyes
spat fire at Saran and that just made him angrier.
“Hey people, let’s
just wait it out for now-” I began, trying to calm the situation, because
honestly she didn’t look like a
threat.
“No way, she could
be a traitor, an Arberian-” Saran argued, waving his shield erratically as if
to emphasise his point.
“And if she is? She has no weapons; there is nothing she can
do to us. If she is indeed a truth-ling,
she might be useful.”
“Fine,” he muttered,
“but I’m going to check her first,” and he thrust his sword at me. I aimed it in her direction somewhat
half-heartedly.
The girl stood as
still as a statue, with an expression of barely concealed rage on her face, as
Saran proceeded to check her for weapons.
When he was satisfied that she had none, he at last allowed me to lower
his sword. I gave it back to him
reluctantly, he still didn’t look as if he trusted her and I wasn’t sure if
giving it him back was such a good idea.
They were now stood far apart and eyeing each other suspiciously, so I
guessed it was up to me to smooth things over.
“So Edla, you
foresaw that I was going to escape the Castle-“
“I knew you were
going to summon the wyverns and leave before the battle, yes,” she agreed,
eyeing Saran warily.
“Wyvern,” I
corrected pointing at it, “and I am not sure I summoned it.”
“You did and it in
turn summoned more of its kind to protect the Kingdom in your absence as you
requested,” she told me, “as was foretold ‘the sky filled with the beating of
many wings’ and I knew the fire-talker would make his escape on Lumina the
queen of the wyverns.”
Lumina, so that was
her name and as I thought this she lowered her mighty head to mine and I looked
her in the eye.
“Thank-you Lumina,”
I murmured as I stroked her surprisingly soft neck. The light on her scales made them shine a
purple-green and though they looked like they should be hard and dry, they were
easily as soft as Peros when he had been groomed. I found it hard to look away from her
expressive eyes; they were the most golden honey-colour with a glint of light
to them that softened me. How had I ever
been afraid of her? I turned back to Edla
to tell her that if I was a fire-talker I would surely know it, but before I
could, I distinctly heard the sound of hooves and scarier, heavier footsteps. I could see nothing, but I knew this wasn’t
good.
“It’s the Arberians,
run!” Edla yelled and taking her at her word, I set off at breakneck speed
towards the trees.
“Some truth-seeker,”
Saran complained loudly as he ran, “oh sure, you knew there were trees, but you
didn’t see that coming.”
CHAPTER THREE
The forest of many shadows
The forest was dense
and the leafless branches sharp, but we kept running, too afraid to stop or
even look back and somewhere along the way we had lost Lumina. My sword and shield were heavy and I kept
stumbling over roots and catching myself just in time, but during the times the
helmet allowed me to see properly, I noticed the others had no such
problems. Saran seemed unencumbered by
the weight of his and Edla had nothing to slow her down. They were both as lithe and graceful as cats
and I felt slow and awkward in comparison.
I could hear no other sounds over that of my heavy breathing and I began
to wonder if we’d lost them.
It had just been
coming light when we had started running and now we were in the cluttered
trees, what light there was had been diminished substantially and I guess that’s
why I didn't notice that Edla had stopped until I ran full pelt into her. We tumbled to the ground in an embarrassing
tangle at Saran’s feet. I couldn’t get
off her and upright fast enough and as I held out my hand to help her up, my
apologies fell from my lips in fast succession.
She stared back at me blankly and that was when I realised she was
‘seeing’ another truth.
“They did not see us
and could not hear us over the sound of the retreating and screeching
wyvern. They aimed their weapons to
bring her down but she was too fast.
They will not enter the forest of many shadows.”
She closed her eyes
and I looked at Saran. ‘Did you believe
her?’ he seemed to be asking me with his expression and to be honest with you,
I wasn’t quite sure. One minute she says
that we were going to journey through a forest and the next minute the
Arberians nearly find us. Now she wanted
us to believe that they were not coming after us. Saran was right, it could be a trap. I mean, we did go through the forest even if
it was at breakneck speed and I couldn’t hear the marching any more, but that
did not necessarily mean that we were safe and I for one had never heard of the
‘forest of many shadows.’
So it had been here
a long time, that wasn’t a good enough reason for Arberian warriors to decide
not to go into the forest, even if they hadn’t heard us. It just didn’t add up.
“The forest of many
shadows? Are we supposed to believe that’s
where we are? My father told me many
tales of the forest of many shadows and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t look as
harmless as this,” Saran declared scornfully and I wondered how I had never
heard of it until now.
“Your father has
been to the forest of many shadows?” Edla asked incredulous and I began to
worry that they were going to argue again.
What was it with them? They
seemed to enjoy tormenting each other.
“Well no, but there
are many tales of creatures not of this realm that speak to each other in
strange tongues and there are few who have made it out alive.”
Well if this was
indeed the forest of many shadows, it explained why the Arberians wouldn’t
follow us in. If few came out alive,
no-one would ever want to go in. This
was when it dawned on me that if she was telling the truth, we should not be
here.
“If there are few
who made it out alive, how can there be many tales of it?” she asked not
unreasonably, but I‘d had enough of their bickering.
“Let’s say for
arguments sake that this is the forest of many shadows, where are all the
creatures not of this realm?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer,
but it was a distraction to them at least.
Saran adopted his ‘warrior’ pose (as I now thought of it) and Edla
turned slowly around with her arms spread-out wide. It was a miracle she didn’t cut herself on
the vicious branches reaching toward her or Saran’s outstretched sword.
“I can feel eyes
watching us, but I do not feel a threat,” she announced calmly as though that
was okay. If there were eyes watching me
that I couldn’t see, I certainly felt threatened and I looked around me to see
if I could spot anything. Thankfully I
couldn’t.
“What do we do now?”
I wanted to know.
“We can’t go back,
that’s for sure; we don’t know if the Arberians are still there. I could feel the threat of the mormoths and
scaranx; we are not safe to travel that way.”
Edla certainly looked sure and I wasn’t prepared to chance anything that
would mean I would come face-to-face with one of those things. I really wished Lumina was still with us, but
I couldn’t see anything in the pockets of sky that I could make out between the
gnarled branches of the trees overhead and I guessed she would have flown far
away from the threat of the Arberians. Then
Edla said something that made my blood run cold.
“I feel the eyes are
on you,” she looked me squarely in the eye and I blinked lest my fear betray
me, “They are watching the fire-talker.”
“My name is Thorde
and I am not a fire-talker. I am just a
stable-hand-“
“A stable-hand who
just happens to be a Dragon Master,” Saran scoffed, “who’s to say that you’re
not a fire-talker too? It’s not as if
you knew you were a Dragon Master until Lumina came along.”
I suppose he had a
point, but I would have noticed if I was a fire-talker. Although I didn’t have access to a Dragon at
the Castle, I had seen many other creatures and had been unable to converse
with them. The only ones I had talked to
were the horses, but that was without using words and anyone could learn to do
that if they just took the time.
“You are a
fire-talker, soon you will see,” Edla’s cryptic words seemed to settle the
matter.
“So now we don’t
have the wyvern, how are we supposed to get to the stone altar if that’s where
we are supposed to be?” Saran asked and I shrugged. I didn’t know where I was now, so finding
somewhere I’d never been before was an impossibility.
“We don’t know which
direction to go, except we can’t go back, so I guess that means we go
forward.”
“Works for me,”
Saran agreed and we began walking once again.
It had not escaped my notice that Saran was watching Edla and Edla was
watching Saran. They obviously didn’t
trust each other at all.
Soon we came to a
break in the trees where rocks were strewn amongst the dying moss of the ground. It was hard going to walk over or around
them, but we kept going all the same.
Who knew if we were going in the right direction but as each check of
the sky proved fruitless, I assumed we just had to forge forward.
“Watch out,” Saran
yelled, “there’s mud ahead and we don’t know how deep it is.”
Sure enough, instead
of moss, now there was murky brown liquid between the uneven stones, but at
least the stones gave us a way to get across the mud. I found it hard to balance with my sword and
shield on the now wobbly stones, but the others did not seem to be having
problems. I couldn’t tell if they were
just adept at choosing the least wobbly rocks or if they just had a better
sense of balance, but they were moving more quickly than me and I didn’t want
to get left behind. This was not the
kind of place where anyone wanted to be alone.
The weather was cold and the air felt damp, but worst of all was the distinct
feeling that I was being watched. I
couldn’t decide if it was paranoia or what Edla had said, but now I actually
felt like I was being watched.
My foot snagged on a
rock and I felt the squelch of mud on my ankle and I tugged to try and free it,
but it wouldn’t budge. I looked down to
see how to loosen it, but I wasn’t caught on a rock. A brown hand had closed over my ankle and was
trying to drag me into the mud.
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