The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (13 page)

The mercenary of Eliah drew his curved elven longblade, typical of trained soldiers from Kilikala and instantly cringed as the enchanted curved kukri dagger landed into his left shoulder, thrown by the wood elf hunter. Lavress feinted a high killing attack, drawing a parry up from his staggered opponent, then turned his wrist down, punching the hilt and his fist into the nose of his enemy, knocking him to the ground. Another blow, then another, his jaguar hide boot planted on the forearm of his target, pinning his blade helplessly to the stone plateau. “How many more?” He whispered in elven to the ear of the mercenary, blood trickling into the pointed ear of his foe as he spoke.

“Fifty” the highborne spat blood into the hunters face. “savage filth.”

Lavress paused, his blade to the noble’s throat and he thought quick. Had there been fifty, he would be dead or this one would be yelling for help. Had Eliah Shendrynn been gone or succeeded, he would not be posting watch of the passage. He had answered all the questions Lavress needed without even knowing it. “By order of the Hedim Anah, may your stray alliance be set right with Seirena in death.” and he cut the guards throat down near the spine, silently praying to the mistress of the groves for forgiveness. Choking stopped quickly, and Lavress closed the misguided elf’s eyes, removed his kukri, and stalked into the cavernous entrance.

The shadows hid him well, ominous darkness with a ceiling held up by pillars of at least fifty feet in height. The wood elf, clad in green stripes of warpaint, brown leaf tattoos of his kills on his face and neck, moved like a shadow and made less sound. Seeing torchlight ahead, strange statues of winged men, dark countenances cast upon their faces, he entered the decorated entrance. Lavress wondered what sort of strange temple this actually was.

The hunter climbed up above an alcove hundreds of yards into the ancient and forgotten temple, a temple to what, Lavress still did not know. He heard the voice of his prey, heard incantations in an elven dialect barely recognizable as his kinsman's tongue. Eliah Shendrynn stood over a pool of green glowing water in a chamber fit to hold giants, maybe dozens of giants or a small army. Yet all alone, four golden books open on a stone pedestal, the highborne elf chanted, levitating inches from the rocky floor. The voice was almost hypnotic in sound, echoing through the cavern, lights swirling in the glowing water, the tomes releasing luminous dusts and rays of light, adding to the enchanting cacophony of sound already captivating the hunter. Lavress readied his throw of the magical kukri that rarely missed and whipped it, end over end at the renegade thief of a wizard. Piercing his red and gold trimmed robes, glancing off something, something only the arcane could have provided, the dagger whisked through his long blonde hair and clanged to the stone behind him. The rattle of the blade settling on the floor from the wall held both elves staring at one another from over a hundred feet apart. Lavress moved first, sprinting along the wall at Eliah.

“They send only
one
?! I am insulted!” a wave of his hand sent ripples of red through the stagnant air, the ground shook as giant stalagmites ripped up through around the hunter. Keeping his footing, lowering his center, Lavress lunged and rolled ahead, dodging through the sharp magical spikes as they rose at him. “Did the Court tell you about me, or send you merely to your death?” His other hand, fingers pointed together with the thumb, erupted in swirling blue orbs the size of horses. Eliah spread his fingers apart, the four orbs launching at the savage hunter. Freezing cold ice scattered as they impacted, the hunter diving and jumping off the side of the wall to avoid them. His breath held, having seen this magic before, knowing the air disappeared when they exploded. Lavress slid on the icy ground yet remained upright, still closing in on his foe.

“You serve a cause that has outlived its purpose, savage.” The rogue wizard put his fingers together, wrists out, aiming his palms at Lavress and chanting. “
Hevam Modriande Hevroon!
”

Light of the clearest mystical radiance flashed in front of the hunter, slowing him, then stopping him as he hit something solid. The face of Eliah Shendrynn hovered before him, an apparition of it anyway, larger and glowing white and silvery. It moved when Lavress moved, pushing him back, stopped his dive under the obstacle, and would not let him pass closer. Lavress cut at it with his deadly falcata, hitting as if the magical ghost had flesh, but doing nothing but earning laughter from his foe hiding well behind his arcane shield. Quick to think and quicker yet to act, the wood elf hunter plunged the blade into the eye of the giant summoned duplicate face, climbing up rapidly, replunging his sword into a higher spot each time. The apparition rose, yet not fast enough, and Lavress reached the top of the huge replica of his target. He replaced his blade on the back of its head, sliding down the other side.

“You are to surrender those texts and yourself by order of the Hedim Anah, Eliah Shendrynn.” Lavress began to sprint again, aiming toward the books on the stone podium that was still glowing.

“You are a
determined
assassin, aren’t you?” Eliah drew a wand of twisted green metal from his belt, aiming it at Lavress. “
Nanveander!
” he spoke, a glowing red and sparkling longsword appearing in front of him floating in mid air.

Lavress closed, up the steps leading to the raised center with the pool and his prize. He ducked the animated blade, directed by Eliah, and parried the second swing with his falcata, feeling the strength of an ogre behind the arcane attacks. Sparks splintered from the force of the blows, Lavress faster and rapidly attacking the summoned weapon, yet each strike knocking him back a foot or more from the sheer force behind the spell. He was tiring, he felt it in his arms, changing from right to left and back again with his cuts.

“Die already, foolish follower of the fey court!” Eliah’s temper starting to emerge at the silence of his pursuer, “
Fegrull!
” he shouted, two fingers pointed out, his other hand still directing the sword with the metal wand. Small sidewinding swirls of flame shot from his fingertips at moonlight speed. Lavress ducked and rolled under the red magical blade that danced and thrust at him from above, just in time. The balls of flame slammed into the rock face, whistling heat as they passed, exploding the stone into shrapnel of razor hot stone splinters. Charging, taking a glancing cut in the shoulder from the floating red sword, Lavress dove at the podium, colliding his shoulder into the stone and knocking three of the tomes sliding across the floor away from the wizard.

Eliah grabbed the remaining glowing book of high elven magic, raised his hand, palm out at the hunter. Wind and dust swirled around him, forming a cloud of tremendous power. The winds blew Lavress back, yet he was almost within striking distance with his enchanted falcata. He struggled to his feet, turning his body sideways and inching through the storm of air that pushed him backward, his deep brown and topaz eyes squinting to keep eye on the wizard conjuring the magical storm. Slowly, through deafening howls in the cavern, Lavress pulled his body forward, getting closer to the wizard’s outstretched palm. He saw the red blade moving through the wind and tried to ready his sword to strike, any moment, ready to cut the renegade elf’s hand off. The waters glowed purple now, deep and rich swirling, almost swallowing the green that had been there moments earlier. Lavress looked at his target, still inches from his weapon’s reach. Eliah closed his eyes, his mouth saying something yet the wind covered the words with its deafening symphony. His eyes reopened, and the rogue highborn elf fell, fell straight into the water, tome in hand. Lavress lunged to take his head, but too late, there was nothing there.

“Damn it!” Lavress could not reach him in time and felt the arcane magic dissipate rapidly. The wind stopped like it had never been, the spikes shrunk back into the earth leaving no trail of their existence. The blade sparkled brightly, fading slowly from reality, and the visage of Eliah Shendrynn he had summoned merely sank into the ground. Lavress landed his lunge on the pool, yet nothing but solid stone lay under his feet, the water was gone like it never was. The hunter squinted, remembering how he despised wizards. All was silent, all was still. Breathing for the first time in a minute, the hunter inhaled deeply, taking in the still, cold air. Darker now, with only scattered torchlight remaining from the magical winds, the hunter of the Hedim Anah picked up the three texts and kukri from the stone floor. Lavress sheathed his blade, and walked back out to the plateau, knowing he had not a chance to locate the renegade wizard now. He removed his arrows from the mercenary’s corpse, scattering the crows that had begun to investigate. Lavress picked up his bow from the base of the ledge he came down.

He sat at the edge of the plateau, overlooking the Vateric, admiring the deep drop below his feet. Lavress meditated, a long overdue rest of mind and body. He had failed, his first uncompleted mission, although three books were better than none he thought. Now Eliah Shendrynn could be anywhere, having learned to use ancient magicks to open lost portals for himself. The hunter rested his emotions and spirit, concentrating on the beauty of the place, the beauty that Seirena had created with the rest of the world so long ago. Lavress felt his mind wander, yet connect to all nature around him, telling him it was time to rest.

His rest was full of thoughts and feeling, places near and far, shadowy and mist filled images. Some were close by, the sense of a creature of the forest in pain, fear and desperation, yet he could not see to whom the feelings belonged to. There was conflict, almost as if someone else were watching the area from afar, concealing it. It was not his trailing lover, Shinayne T’Sarrin of Kilikala, that feeling no amount of arcane subterfuge could mask had it been her in pain. No, Lavress felt her near, perhaps two days north at most, but heading away and not alone. The hunter knew she was capable of handling herself in almost any situation. He knew that he had to give peace to her torn heart and his and appreciate her feelings of love for following him all this way. She could not understand why he had to go alone, was ordered to, and with the Hedim Anah orders always had reason beyond the sight of those carrying them out and must be honored. Lavress was not even allowed to tell anyone of his missions, a vow he had broken with his noble lover Shinayne many times already.

Lavress Tilaniun focused more on his breathing, centering his lithe elven form, staring at the clouds moving above the waves of the dark blue Vateric, and listened for more from the east. He felt Shinayne again, easily sensing her heading south and east, moving quickly. The other masked being, had also moved east, yet had stopped and Lavress shuddered. On his feet in less than a second and heading north through the cliffs of the deep south of Chazzrynn, Lavress felt the being in hopeless torment and agony, felt his hand on the earth, felt fear in his heart, fear of an elf that was hurting him. Lavress moved faster, having rested only a few hours, not sure what elf would torture a being of the forest, not wanting to know, but determined to put it to an end. For Lavress Tilaniun of the Hedim Anah, lady Shinayne would have to wait a bit longer.

Exodus I:III

South Chazzrynn Wilderness

Venison, black horned deer meat, and some willow roots cooked on the wooden spit that James had made after the minotaur’s kill that evening. Shinayne had the only waterskin, so she had made several trips to a fresh stream for the cold water and had collected the wood and set the fire with some elven oil and flint she carried with her. James had dressed the animal and only made a few mistakes with his shaking hands.

“Next time Saberrak, let me dress it before you carry it back that far, you might not be so tired if it were lightened and carried by two.” James chuckled, looking over at his exhausted friend who had just carried a two hundred pound deer at least four miles over his shoulders. The knight brought over a wooden stick, the first piece of meat cooked through, and offered it to the horned warrior respectfully since he had killed it. The three of them ate, warming by the fire and smelling like cooked meat, refreshing themselves after nearly two days of starving. Saberrak, while eating twice as much as James and twice that again of the elf, could not stop gazing at the sky decorated with such wonders.

The morning sun had just risen again yet James had been up for hours already. His mind needed a drink, just a taste of wine, and would not let him rest, barely able to control his hands. He had been through this before, once, stranded with an injured leg from an ogre hunt near Addisonnia on the eastern edge of Chazzrynn. He remembered going six days without wine and he knew that it would get worse. He was prepared for the nightmares to come, the insomnia, the sweats, and all the other painful bodily experiences that would arrive over the next few days till they reached civilization. He had managed to keep down most of the food, vomiting only a little, away from the others. The angers and frustrations of the past, present, and about anything his mind could argue with itself over were coming fast and his thoughts raced to more thoughts of how it would all be pleasurably drown away soon with what the answer was, the cure in the bottle.

Shinayne sat, legs crossed facing the west, she could feel Lavress near and moving, but how close he was she had not the intuitions in this cold place. He was alive and his heart beating steady this morning, somewhere near them, hours, days, she knew not, yet a smile penetrated her meditation realizing the tell tale rhythm of her lover. The elven swordswoman felt pain in the distance as well, Bedesh, not sure if it was a physical pain or emotional, the elf tried to concentrate more on her captured friend. She strained, yet could only tell movement there as well, feeling his heart heading away and something interfering from a distance. She knew that sensing those she loved, those she knew, and the rhythm of the creatures of Seirena and Siril took centuries to perfect. Feeling her own struggles of priority, devotion, and situation, the elf dismissed the swirling urges to act rashly one way or the other. Her heart told her to find her lover and reunite in his arms. Her guilt spoke to her, ordering her to charge in and rescue the satyr and her mind calmly reminded her to follow the friends with her now, that all would unravel as it should with patience.