Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians (13 page)

“Nothing
I can say would make this better.”

Looking
into his eyes, she seemed to be searching for something. “I’m not helpless.”

“No
one said you were. What are you saying? You want to learn to fight? Stand at
your sister’s side, sword in hand, blood dripping from your blade?” Her jaw set
sternly as he spoke. “No,” he spoke for her, finding the answer in her eyes.
“So what then?”

Leaning
back she turned away, looking into the fire. “I have no more answer than you
do.” Feeling defeated, she slumped back against the wall. “You would think a
Seer would feel more confident about what the future holds.”

“Not
really. Seems to me, if I were a Seer, I’d constantly be weary of what the
future held for those that I loved.” His hands braced onto his knees to stand.
“If you ask me, you handle it better than most people that I know would.
Certainly better than I would.”

“You’re
leaving now? To Kenan?” Anxious, she sat up closer to him as he moved to stand.

“Not
yet. Aryaunna wishes to leave at dusk. She needs time to prepare, and I believe
she wished to pray to the Guardians in private.” It was an assumption, but an
accurate one.

“You
know we’ll come back. You’ve seen many years into your sister’s future. What’s
bothering you, Elizabeth?” He’d stopped moving, and turned to look at her.

“Just
promise me you’ll take care of her, Allos. She is your Emissary, yes. Just
remember that she is still a very young girl who has led a very painful life. A
young girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders and responsibilities
that will steal what is left of a youth that she was never free to have. If I
could bestow her one gift, it would be happiness.” She looked away from him,
looking down at the burning fire that was filling the room with its blessed
warmth. “I know she will live for many years, but I still fear that my sister
may never know happiness. She would give it to others before having any for
herself.”

With
worry in her eyes and pain her heart she looked up at him. “You will teach her
to fight. But who will teach her how to feel joy?”

“Perhaps
she will have to see it in others before she will learn how to find it in her own
heart.” Raising his hand, his fingers rest upon Elizabeth’s cheek as his thumb
brushed her hair back. “Your hearts may be bruised, but they are both large and
capable of a great many things. One day you will learn to trust your heart more
than the visions in your head.” His hand rose up to her forehead, stroking
against her temple.

Standing,
he leaned over her as his hand lingered against the side of her face. His lips
pressed down on top of her head. Before he could pull away her hand touched
against his, holding his palm against her cheek. His skin was rough with
callouses as much as hers. The touch of his skin was warm though. Warmth she
had never felt before.

When
he pulled away Elizabeth looked up at him. Their eyes remained locked for a
long moment as he considered something. Stepping back, Allos pulled the sword
from the sheath at his side, hidden beneath his cloak. Kneeling down before
Elizabeth, Allos held the sword out between them, blade parallel to the floor.
His other hand extended for hers as he looked her straight in the eye.

Cautiously
she laid her hand down into his waiting fingers. The broad of his blade rest
upon his bent knee as his hand held the hilt and sword steady. “Druid in blood,
Drow in name, man at heart. I swear to you my everlasting allegiance and
loyalty in body, spirit, and heart to the sisters Luvea. Not just to Aryaunna,
my Emissary, my liege, but to you-Elizabeth Luvea, Seer, keeper of hearts.”
His head bowed deeply over their held hands.

A
delicate hand touched to his cheek, and guided him to look up at her. She
wanted to tell him that he need not bow to anyone, least of all her, but when
their eyes locked she could say nothing. The vow had been so much more than
words. Never taking his eyes from hers, he leaned forward. Drawing her hand
still held in his closer, he placed a kiss upon her knuckles. Her hand turned
over in his. Both palms held to his cheeks as she slid from the bed to her
knees before him.

Carefully,
he slid the sword out from in between them and laid it on the floor behind him.
Never once did their gazes break. Tilting his head, he kissed her palm before
holding his hand over hers to his cheek. Allos could feel her breath against
his skin for how close she was.

His
left hand, which had held the hilt of his sword whilst he’d pledged his undying
allegiance, caressed her side as he reached out. Sliding his arm around her,
his palm pressed against her back and pulled her closer. Fingers drug gently
down the back of her hand and along her arm until they left her shoulder and
touched against her hair.

Timidly,
they remained as such. Close. Touching. Looking at one another in ways neither
had ever looked upon another before, they never looked away. His nose brushed
the side of hers. Warm breath fell between her lips over his. They brushed
against one another. Not kissing, but touching their lips together as if to
test the feeling.

A
quiver rippled through his spine. Instinctively his arm around her back pulled
her flush against him as their kiss found one another more fully. Their eyes
closed as they became lost in one another.

Sita
ran with the grace of gazelles and the power of Dragons. Aryaunna had no
trouble riding her, despite that she’d not saddled her. Aryaunna held to Sita’s
mane at the base of her neck to keep steady as she leaned down against the
mare.

The
sun shown brilliantly, glistening off of the covered white earth like a million
diamonds covered the earth rather than the tiny flakes of snow. Sita’s hooves
kicked up a flurry of white around them as they ran.

The
only sound in the vast field was Sita’s hooves, galloping over the frozen
terrain. It wasn’t the valley of Dia, but it was quiet at least, and most
importantly it was peaceful.

After
Aryaunna had left Allos outside the arena she’d gone straight for Sita. There
was a small stable that she liked to sleep in, but Sita had been roaming
through the woods. She came to Aryaunna’s call as if she’d been trained to do
so since birth, though that was far from true. Without waiting to let anyone
try and stop her, Aryaunna mounted the mare’s back and rode off.

She
wanted to see Reign, but there wasn’t time. Instead she’d opted to let Sita run
where she may. Throughout the rolling land there was forest of plenty, but
there were fields, too. Vast ones, untouched but by more than the woodland
creatures that claimed the fields as part of their own.

As
Sita calmed from her frisky play, Aryaunna lay down against the mare’s back.
Her face lay against her broad neck, the mane tickled her nose but she didn’t
mind it. Her arms were gentle to hug the mare around the neck. The two had
grown amazingly close in the little time they’d been together. On nights
Aryaunna couldn’t sleep she stayed with Sita and talked to her as if she
expected the horse to not only understand, but perhaps to answer her back.

Reaching
chilled fingers into her bodice, she pulled the small amethyst heart out and
clutched it in her fist. “I’m worried about tonight. I’ve seen people burned as
heretics, but never close. I watched them drown my mother in an animals’ trough
when I was little. What if I panic? What if I can’t help them? Or worse what if
I get someone hurt because I make a mistake?” though she spoke to Sita, she
thought of Reign. She missed her friend.

“You
would probably tell me I’m foolish for not letting anyone but Allos come help
me. I just feel like it’s safer this way. Maybe you wouldn’t though. I think
part of you would understand why I have to do it this way, just this time.”
Sita had come to a stop. An artesian well hadn’t fallen victim to the cold. It
spout water freely up through rocks. Sita was drinking as Aryaunna spoke to her
friend who she could only wonder at what he was doing and if he knew she was
thinking about him.

Aryaunna
spoke aloud to Sita-and like any good companion, Sita listened. They rode, and
played, galloping through the snow. Sometimes she trotted without purpose.
Sometimes she walked idly, or would stop to paw at the snow to uncover the
grass so that she could eat. Aryaunna shared sweet oats she’d brought from the
Hollow.

They
rode on into the trees. Aryaunna fell asleep while lying against the mare’s
neck. She was exhausted, but sleep rarely came easily to her-even in the
safety of the Hollow. There was always work to be done. Things to learn,
something that had to be done. It made her excuse for not wanting to sleep
easy. Dreams could be escaped by preoccupying her body to keep busy with tasks
that called her. Sometimes though, there was just no escaping the siren of
dreams. The call would always come sooner or later, and would not be denied.

Aryaunna
slept for two hours before she woke to the sound of Sita snorting and pawing at
the ground to get her rider’s attention. They were in the woods, facing open
land and a fence forged of large pines. Spiked at the top, and bound with ropes
for support. The posts circled the village of Kenan.

Rubbing
the sleep from her eyes, Aryaunna looked around them in a daze. Sita remained
well hidden in the trees. Far enough from the tree line that no one gazing out
would see them, but close enough that Aryaunna could see where they were. “You
were listening. You agree that this is something I should be doing alone.”
Again she spoke aloud, yet felt as if she were speaking to Reign. She hadn’t
come nearly as prepared as she’d intended, but it was well before dusk. No one
would be looking for her in the Hollow just yet. Going back now, there would be
no way to stop them from coming with her.

Armed
with only the old sword she’d trained with and her long knife she carefully
dismounted from her four legged friend. Aryaunna rubbed her neck warmly as she
walked around to the front of Sita. “You stay hidden, and wait for me here. I
won’t be quick but I will return as soon as I’m able.” It would be nice to take
Sita with her, but that would draw more eyes than she wanted. Horses were
common enough in these parts, but still drew notice. The poor townsfolk didn’t
own horses. No one but the Church owned them for leisure, but for work. A
traveler may be expected to have one, but it would bring notice that she
couldn’t afford.

Dropping
to her knees next to Sita, Aryaunna dug through the snow with her bare fingers
to the dirt below. Gathering some cold wet dirt in her hands she smeared it
over her face and neck. Her cloak was thick and warm, but made to look almost
ragged. It was made to blend in to the woods in the winter months. She smeared
dirt over the whitest pieces of cloth to make them less noticeable in a poor
town. Someone clean and kept with nice clothes would draw more attention than
someone filthy and poor. The poor were like mice in a summer field. Everywhere,
but always unseen.

Pulling
a satchel from her belt which had held the oats, she proceeded to tear the
seams apart. Before long it was just a long strip of burlap. Pulling her hood
back, she wrapped it around her like a scarf, securing it over her face just
under her eyes to mask more of her. Pulling the cloak’s hood back up, she
tugged it forward so it hung low over her brow.

With
one last hug around Sita’s neck, and a kiss onto the mare’s jaw, Aryaunna asked
that she wish her luck, and then walked away from her friend and away from the
sanctity of the trees towards the snow covered road that would take her to
Kenan.

Kenan’s
market was large, for it was the biggest village for miles to come. The small
homesteads had to bring their goods here to sell or were likely to sell nothing
at all. Many worked in barter and trade, for money was far more scarce than
spring flowers in winter. A woman was hanging tapestries to show their delicate
patterns. Her work was well ranged from plain colors to intricate patterns. She
sold a great deal to the Church. Aryaunna looked anywhere else she could to
avoid being seen by the woman who could possibly recognize her.

Guards
walked throughout the market place as they always did. Something had changed
with them though. Not only did they now wear the armor of knights and soldiers,
they were dressed in the colors of the Church. Each one wore the Church’s
insignia, and the Coat of Arms of Valhanna as well.

Valhanna
was a chiefdom more than eight days of a hard ride to the west. The Church had
clearly allied with them. Valhanna’s King had been absent for the past thirteen
years, living across the seas in his mother’s homeland, Beringia. He was just
an infant when they’d taken him. The child Dyton, named for his father, had
been taken on the night of his birth when his mother died. His father was away
at war. A war they were winning. Losing the boy to an enemy would be a
devastating blow to not just the King but the entire kingdom.

Though
the war was ultimately won, King Dyton II died not long after, having suffered
grave injuries in the final battle. The infant was named King, and a Barren was
given stead of the land until the boy came of age to return.

Kenan
itself was owned by the Grand Duke Cromwell. He’d been granted the provenance
by King Dyton II decades ago, for his loyalty to the crown and dedicated
service. When business of war took him away from the land, he’d named a Regent.
Cromwell has long been suspected dead, though there is no proof of this, and
law states until proof is issued of his demise, the Regent will remain as
sovereign. The Regent he chose was Magistrate of the Church.

While
the two had remained allies, they carried on as separate states, and had for
many years hence. Until now.

Aryaunna
thought carefully over what the Coat of Arms implied, and wondered how she
could find out. Either way, in the end it meant the Church had far more support
than she’d expected. They had a full army.

The
market was full of vendors. A fish tail was shoved in her face as the vendor
propositioned her. It smelled of salt water and age. The smell nearly gagged
her. An old woman beckoned for her to look at a splay of woven baskets. A tired
man carried sacks of grain with his sons to a cart near a stone wall. With no
horse in sight she knew that he had drug the cart here with his boys.

A
flurry of snowflakes whipped through the air at a gust of wind. Night would
fall in just hours. Allos would be looking for her soon if he wasn’t already.

The
guards were thick in the crowd, though they were clearly not there for buying.
Why would the Magistrate bid so many guards to the marketplace, she wondered.
They had to have been looking for something, but the gates to Kenan had been
left unmanned. They weren’t checking people. No one had approached her more
than to harass her to buy something.

Careful
to avoid unwanted attention, Aryaunna moved through the crowd toward the
square. Plenty of people were gathered here as she expected. The market was
down a long, snow packed street, filled with buildings and stands for the
vendors, just off the square.

Just
in front of her an elderly destitute soul went into a fit of coughing so
horribly that it buckled their knees. She’d seen the signs of illness since
entering Kenan clearly. Swollen, red, snotted noses. Chapped lips and cheeks.
Puffy tired eyes and a wheezing cough in nearly every throat. Winter took many
souls each year, usually the old and the weak.

Without
thinking, Aryaunna took the arm of the old woman and guided her away from the
foot traffic. Holding her arms carefully, she bid the woman to sit on an empty
wooden crate against the far wall of what she thought must be the smithery for
the warmth radiating from the wall. Unstrapping her bota, she held it up for
the woman and bid her to drink.

Aryaunna
kept a tiny satchel of pellets, made of hardened balls of seaweed. Mayla had
given her the bag full to keep with her for when she was too busy to go and
find a full meal. Pulling open the little satchel she fingered out two and
tucked them into the woman’s hand. They weren’t very good to eat, but they were
filled with nutrients and would fill your belly for the grain bound in the
center. “Eat these,” Aryaunna instructed as she looked around them, still weary
of drawing attention.

After
a few moments of coughing, drinking, and eating, the woman looked more content
but exhausted. Worried the woman would lose consciousness, Aryaunna shook her
arm gently. A clammy cold hand lay over Aryaunna’s. Looking closer at the
woman, it was clearer to see she wasn’t as old as Aryaunna had believed at
first. She was perhaps in her late forties, or perhaps younger still. Poor
health aged people quickly. “Thank you. Bless you. Bless you,” she said again
and again.

“Shhh.
Let’s keep our voices down.” Kneeling down closer to the woman, she locked her
gaze on the woman’s cold haggard eyes. “I’ve done you a favor this day, have I
not? Might you do one in turn, m’lady?” Looking worn, and unwilling, she looked
back at Aryaunna nervously though gave her a hesitant nod. “Word says tonight
they burn a heretic in the square. I need to know everything you can tell me
about this.”

Aryaunna’s
fingers pulled loose the satchel of pellets and held them up, but not high
enough for anyone else to see. “These will bring you good health and a full
belly for many nights. Will you trade with me? The knowledge I seek for this
food?”

“Aye,
but not here, girl. Not here.” The woman’s eyes roamed away. Cautiously
Aryaunna followed her gaze to the many red robes of the guards. Tying the
satchel back in place, Aryaunna gave the woman aid to stand and followed her
through the streets.

They
walked for a long ways, away from the square and away from the marketplace.
Aryaunna kept her arm out for support, and kept her other arm holding her cloak
tight around her. It wasn’t to protect her from the cold but to hide her
weapons that the woman had already taken sight of.