Читать книгу Elantion - Valentina Massano - Страница 11

Clarice and Kaj proceeded swiftly through the thick of the Shadetrail Forest toward Nidath. Five days had passed since Fenan, and when they arrived near a crossing, Clarice motioned for him to stoop down. After a moment, he could make out some chittering in the distance. Kaj leaned out of the bushes a little, and saw a gang of about ten goblins dragging a dead and partially eaten horse with ropes. The noisy and scatterbrained nature of goblins made them easy to identify, especially for those who, like Clarice, had traveled extensively. The barefoot, olive-skinned things were small and skeletal, with long arms and large hands. Their elongated heads were sprinkled with a few bristly hairs, and their hirsuteness varied. Their prominent eyes were large and yellow, their noses wide and flattened, and their mouths wide with thin lips that hid sharp teeth, perfect for biting and tearing. They wore only light shirts, often full of holes, and trousers in leather or wool, frayed and dirty. They did not suffer from the cold, having always lived in harsh climates. Armed with daggers, they were very fast and sneaky. They could jump on the shoulders of an unfortunate soul and start biting until their prey breathed its last.

“Come here, Kaj!” she scolded him softly. “We don’t need them spotting us. We’ll take them by surprise.”

He squinted, thinking. “It can be done…”

“At my nod, we attack. Wait here.”

The Vagabond waited for the last goblin to pass their hiding place, strung her bow, and killed two in rapid succession. The creatures, alarmed, threw themselves at Kaj, who had emerged from the bushes in the meantime. He stabbed the first one that stood before him, and narrowly dodged another’s blade, lunging to the side and wounding that goblin, which collapsed. The elf struck them with arrows as Kaj engaged them. By the end, only one was left, and it was in the throes of death; Clarice strode toward it with an arrow in her hand, and stuck said arrow in its throat. With a pained grimace, the goblin was killed outright.

Cold and deadly, Kaj thought.

“Nice work,” nodded the elf.

“I haven’t held this sword in such a long time! I had forgotten how well-balanced it is,” he exclaimed, slicing the air with it some. Kaj’s eyes glimmered with a young boy’s enthusiasm.

“That’s good to hear. You’ll be forced to use it often,” said the nalnir.

“Yes, though I’ll have to practice. I’m a bit rusty…”

They began to collect whatever might come in handy, and they found themselves staring at the dead horse with a certain craving. One shared glance, and they knew what needed to be done.

Late that night, the fire was still burning merrily before their eyes. The bits of horse had made for the perfect dinner; the meat cooked over the fire had become tender and juicy, and they ate it all up in in next to no time. Kaj, leaning against a rock and wrapped in a bear’s fur, was enjoying the heat of the fire; Clarice was lying down a little further on, covered by her cloak and sleeping soundly. Kaj felt snowflakes on his face.

“Clarice.”

“What is it?” she asked, immediately alert.

“Sorry to wake you up, but we have a problem.”

She looked up, and understood. “Snow. Just what we needed. I was hoping it at least wouldn’t snow tonight. We’d better get moving.”

“I can hear lalks in the distance,” Kaj said, concerned.

“I hear them, too…” she said, sharing his worry.

They gathered their belongings, donned their furs, and continued down the path, each wielding a torch. Traversing the forest was going to prove much more difficult than expected.

The light snowfall soon took a turn for the stormy. The freezing winds, and the snowflakes, which had become little pellets of ice, made the path slippery and their footing uncertain. More and more, they could feel the cold creeping through the leather of the boots. The hours before the dawn seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Eventually, they were forced to leave the path to seek shelter. Not far away, they found a rocky ledge that formed a kind of roof. With some not-too-damp brushwood that they found in the clefts of the rocks, they created a beautiful fire, somewhat brightening the otherwise sad dawn that awaited them. The sky was gloomy, the clouds low and full. In the distance, they could still hear the chilling howls of the lalks that were stalking them relentlessly.

“You haven’t slept a single wink,” said the elf. “We have a few hours; try to rest. I’ll stand guard.” Clarice’s tone revealed her concern. She placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, and motioned for him to lie down. Kaj thanked her, and as soon as he lay down, he felt all his muscles relax. The heat of the fire and the fur were invigorating, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

He woke up to a gloomy morning, but at least the forest was less scary. The snow was abating, and when he got up, he saw that Clarice was not there. He stirred, turning around to look for her. She came out from behind a tree.

She stood in front of him, staring. “Take it.” She tossed him some bread and cheese from the bag, and then started stoking the fire.

Kaj looked at her. “Thank you.”

It was too wet out, and Clarice’s efforts to light the fire were in vain.

“Ugh! Damn snow!” she exclaimed, chucking a piece of wood into the distance. “Let’s get going. We should take advantage of the distance between us and the lalks. The closer we get to Nidath, the safer we ought to be.” She looked around, carefully inspecting their forest environs.

The snows turned heavier and heavier as the storms raged. The trees looked like skeletons, their bare branches unable to beat back the snow’s invasion of the forest floor. On the contrary, the pines and firs bore branches full of snow, which, by falling, threatened to bury Clarice and Kaj a couple of times. The air was cold, and felt like a hundred blades nicking their faces. The bitter chill exhausted them to the bone. Kaj turned his gaze to Clarice from time to time, and noticed that she kept bringing a hand to the thigh which had been injured by the lalks, pressing and rubbing it.

A few days passed. The winds were domineering, icy, and incredibly strong, penetrating even the smallest crevices of their clothes. They skirted along a rock face in the hopes of finding a cave or other ledge that could help them get through the night. “It looks like we’re not going to have as much luck this time,” said Kaj, utterly worn out and breathing heavily.

“But I remember there being a cave around here.” Clarice examined the rock. “Maybe we’re there already. Aha! Here it is!”

Kaj heaved a sigh of relief, happy to finally escape the elements. They gathered as much wood as possible, hoping to be able to light a fire.

“Hurry up,” said the elf. “There are lalks…”

“Where?” Kaj asked worriedly.

“Hidden among the trees. We’re talking at least a dozen.” Clarice was not okay. Her hands were trembling. Her last misadventure with lalks was fresh in her mind. As she tried to light the fire, she looked around non-stop, nervous and frightened. It was the first time Kaj had seen her this way.

“Let me do it.” The man enclosed the nalnir’s hands in his, trying to calm her down. He looked her in the eyes. They were deep, magnetic. For a moment, he stayed like that, enchanted. “We’ll face them if have to. We’ll make it.”

The elf withdrew her hands, leaving the flint in Kaj’s. The man gave a sharp blow with the dagger, and the spark set the tinder on fire. Clarice stood brandishing a torch, lighting two fires at the threshold of the cave to create a safe perimeter. In front of the second fire, a lalk’s eyes shone. They were terribly close, much more than usual.

Clarice put down her torch and walked slowly away, without turning her back on it. “Looks like the fire isn’t scaring them this time…”

“That’s just great,” said Kaj, worried. “Do you have a real plan?”

Clarice’s response was not what he was expecting. “Not really, but they’ll soon get tired of waiting… we ought to wait for them to make the first move.”

Several hours passed. The Vagabond’s prediction hadn’t been very accurate, and the wait was unnerving. Kaj was crouched by the fire. He wanted to keep the movements of those beasts under control; they were in position all around, watching. The man saw the sheen of their fur under the moonlight, and heard their wound-up nervous panting. Suddenly, they both heard a noise from very close by. Kaj saw one of the lalks advancing, and Clarice quickly took up the bow.

“Scare it with the torch!” she screamed.

“It doesn’t seem to work!” he retorted.

“Move that damned torch!” the elf repeated again, this time with more conviction.

Kaj waved the torch vigorously, but the beast did not retreat. In fact, it had now crossed over into their perimeter. Clarice walked over to Kaj and set the arrowhead on fire. Other lalks approached from the center—they were surrounded. Suddenly, they heard a threatening growl; the others stopped as a huge one appeared in the center.

“Oh, fantastic,” Kaj exclaimed sarcastically. He thought for a moment, and came up with an idea. He lowered himself, grabbed another burning stick and, without taking his eyes off the lalks, threw it toward one of the beasts. The animal avoided it and fled, frightened. They were all baring their teeth. Kaj and Clarice had started to back away, as the lalks got closer and closer. Clarice aimed her bow and shot an arrow, which pierced a neck. The animal staggered for a second, before collapsing. At that point, the largest of the lalks backed away, leaving the battlefield to the others, who were determined to tear them apart.

“Well, now what?” asked Kaj, frightened.

“Now we entrap them,” said Clarice confidently.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Something stupid…”

Clarice took up the bow and killed two beasts, while Kaj wounded the lalk that pounced on him, forcing it to flee. With incredible aim, Clarice dropped the bow to the ground and threw a dagger at the last lalk. The animal avoided the blow, so she stunned it with a punch on the muzzle and then slit its throat.

“Well done!” said Kaj.

Clarice did not reply; she closely examined the forest. “We can rest tonight; we’ll use their bodies as a warning.”

Dawn came, and it was time to set off. Clarice was still sleeping, so Kaj walked over to her and woke her up. That morning, the clouds had given way to blue skies, and the snow glimmered in the light of the new day as it filtered through the branches of the pine trees. The winds had subsided, and there seemed to be nothing nearby that could pose a danger and spoil the day’s beauty. They passed a clearing, almost slipping on several sheets of ice in the process, and reached a small stream that disappeared underneath the rocks, only to reappear much further down in the plains. The shore was dangerously slippery with all the snow that covered it, but strangely, the water was not frozen.

Kaj saw Clarice approach the water. If she fell into it, she could catch something. “Clarice! You could slip!” he exclaimed, too forcefully.

“Dammit, are you mad!?” The elf glared at him. She bent down to fill the bottle, then threw it to the man with a defiant look. “How caring of you, Kaj. Up until a few days ago, I was the one who had to babysit you…” she said self-importantly.

“Babysit me?” he asked incredulously.

She stared at him intently for a moment. “You bet!”

Kaj returned her gaze without replying. Eventually, he tossed his backpack at her to provoke her, but Clarice elegantly ignored his provocation and resumed her march.

For a good hour, they continued apace along the stream, until they reached the point where it sank under the rocks. The path was impassable in places; the cliffs and the ups and downs forced them to take detour after detour. The time needed to reach Nidath was getting longer. They had to take advantage of the good weather and cover as much distance as they could.

They walked all night. The moonlight accompanied them faithfully, but by the crack of dawn, the clouds had returned, low and gloomy, a portent of fresh new storms. Clarice looked up at the sky. The tops of the tallest trees were swaying in the winds, which were once again strong and freezing. Suddenly, they heard something from behind. Clarice stopped, stretching out an arm to stop Kaj and gesturing for him to keep silent. The man knew what was following them; he sensed the same stench: lalks.

“They’re tailing us,” Clarice said softly.

The man did not lose heart. “Seeing how they screwed us over the other day, I’d say it’s better to attack first, so we can take them by surprise.”

“That’s just what I was thinking. Let’s let them get close.” The elf rose slowly, peering into the forest. Suddenly, the pack leader came forward, and two other lalks flanked it. Clarice had her bow in hand, and Kaj drew his sword. Two arrows were enough to kill the two lalks at the sides. But the largest remained. The beast avoided Clarice’s arrow, thereby yielding its side, and Kaj quickly lunged, managing to score a hit. The lalk turned quickly, growling and baring its teeth. Then Clarice laid down the bow and drew her daggers, before leaping forward for the strike. The animal knocked the elf down, and she lost her blades. The beast was close, and she managed to injure it in on one leg with the dagger that she had fastened to her leg, hidden by her tunic. The animal whined and bled profusely as it fled back into the forest.

Clarice was sitting on the ground. Kaj held out a hand to help her up.

“You were great back there,” he said.

She gave Kaj a satisfied look, accepted his hand, and got to her feet. “I know,” replied the elf.

The man shook his head in amusement, feeling the traces of blood left by the animal. “It’s losing a lot of blood. We should give chase and finish the job.”

“Agreed,” she nodded.

Trying not to make noise, they followed the lalk’s trail of blood into the undergrowth, weapons in hand to avoid surprises. Little by little, the size of the pools of blood was increasing, and the footprints were getting irregular—the animal was slowing down. They found it a little further on in a huge pool of blood, completely resigned to its fate. Clarice approached, and the beast did not attempt to attack. It only emitted a short growl. The elf took out the dagger, and when she was about to stab it in the heart, she saw that the animal had a collar. She moved its hair and discovered the stone attached to its hide. Kaj came closer to get a better look. The two exchanged a surprised look, and then the elf cut the collar. Suddenly, the animal stirred, frightening them both. It raised its head, looking at Clarice and breathing heavily, then expired.

They both stood there, speechless. Clarice looked at the collar: the stone, which until recently had been shining, was now dull and opaque.

“What do you think?” asked the man.

“Do you want to know what I think, Kaj?” the elf put forward a hypothesis: “The collar was controlling it, but when it looked at me before it died, it seemed to be nothing more than a normal wolf…”

Kaj chewed over her words. “If it’s the collar that makes it a ‘lalk,’ as you elves call it, that means it’s the work of necromancers.”

“They can probably see through the eyes of the wolf, and the stone influences the wolves that are close to it, inducing them to form a pack…” she said, searching for an explanation.

“It almost seemed like it wanted to tell you something,” hazarded Kaj.

“Without the collar, it had reverted to being under the influence of the goddess Efabi, and stopped being my enemy,” she noted, feeling for the beast. “It was my duty to free it from the pain I had caused it, and to send its soul to the Goddess.” Angry, the elf’s fist tightened around the collar. “I’ll have to make amends.”

*

Another two days’ walk brought them closer to the innermost area of the forest. The elven magic was so powerful that, despite it being winter, the vegetation was green and lush. Only in that area of Elelreel could one almost breathe in the power of ancient magic—the magic surrounding the creation of the first elves Nariel and Fayriss. They proceeded rapidly despite the shifting terrain. The elf’s purposeful steps served as a guide for Kaj. Suddenly, Clarice stopped to listen.

“What?” asked Kaj, surprised.

“Follow me!”

Clarice ran through the vegetation with such agility that Kaj could not keep up; he kept getting caught in branches. Going past the last shrubs, she spotted with great surprise a group of elves that had recently killed four lalks. When Kaj arrived, he was out of breath and exhausted. He tried to recover by resting his hands on his knees.

“They dead?” asked Clarice, checking the bodies.

“Of course!” replied an irritated elf.

Clarice found another collar at the neck of one of the animals. She cut it off, and shoved it in the elf’s face. “These collars are controlling the wolves! You don’t have to kill them!”

“They attacked us and we defended ourselves,” replied another member of the group.

Clarice swore in Elvish. Kaj convinced her that she had to explain herself better. “I believe that by removing the collars from the lalks that wear them, they will return to being simple wolves…” she said.

The elf stared at Clarice, eyes wide. “Incredible!”

“We found out a few days ago,” said Kaj.

The elf looked at him with suspicion. “And who would you be?”

“My name is Kaj,” he replied eagerly, hoping for a nod of acknowledgement.

“You weren’t asked,” said the elf.

Clarice stepped in. “We’re going to Nidath; are you headed there, too?”

The elf shook his head. “No. We don’t even come from the city.”

“Oh…” exclaimed the Vagabond, surprised.

Without another word to Clarice, the group of elves resumed their journey.

The night came quickly, and the rocky wall under which they took refuge was grooved by the climbing ivy which created a soft coating. Some branches drooped downwards, creating a cascade of green that concealed and protected the rocky cranny where they were resting. The moss all around them was lush, its intense green contrasted by the white froth of the stream’s waters.

They lit a nice fire, and Kaj, sitting in front of the elf, observed her frowning face as he tried to eat one of the roots they had collected. Eventually, he tossed the last piece into the fire. Clarice locked eyes with Kaj, and when she realized that he was laughing at the expressions she was making, she herself started to laugh; she wiped her mouth with her hand and took a swig from her flask.

“This area of the forest is the safest. Not even lalks venture beyond the edge of the Old Larches. They are the oldest and full of magic, and they form the border around the innermost area of the forest,” she explained, pointing.

“Where the city is,” Kaj concluded.

“Correct.”

“I’m learning.”

She looked at him with a smile, and the man noticed how deep and beautiful her eyes were, then looked away bashfully. “I saw some bushes earlier. I’m going to check if they have berries,” said Kaj.

The man picked up large, juicy dark blue blueberries and mushrooms. As he returned to the field he observed the forest, and the fact that he was unable to orient himself made him anxious. When he returned, Clarice was looking after the fire.

“I happened on some berries and mushrooms,” he said. “Amazed I managed to find any in the dead of winter.”

The elf turned her gaze to Kaj. The light of the fire made her eyes sparkle.

“Have a taste,” said the man, offering.

Though she knew how they tasted, she ate them with relish. “Thank you.”

“So how long till we reach town?” he asked.

“I don’t know exactly; we’ve made too many detours,” she admitted.

“There’s one thing I still don’t get. Are we going to Nidath just to see the King, or is there some other reason?”

The elf thought for a moment. “The key thing is to talk to the King,” he began. “The rest will come by itself… I think…”

“Count me intrigued!” he quipped.

Clarice grinned. “King Yenven will explain much, and then we will have to decide where to start.”

“To do what?” Kaj asked.

“Whatever we have to do…” she replied, unsure.

“Why don’t you finish the account of your past for me?” asked the man. “You left me hanging in Fenan.”

“The story is short,” she began. ‘They kidnapped me alongside the other children, and locked us in cages in a stable. I managed to open the lock and escape. I went back to the village, and discovered that they were all dead, so I left that place. A family hosted me for a few days, but it was not the place for me, so I left…”

“Where to?” Kaj interrupted her.

“First, I joined a group of smugglers who needed small, fast hands. Then I worked with thieves and mercenaries,” she explained, frowning at the sight of Kaj’s expression.

“Whoa, okay!” he exclaimed. “Smugglers, thieves and mercenaries?”

“Yes, and I was the best,” she replied.

“I don’t doubt it…”

“A few months before the invasion, I left the group I was with and became a Vagabond. I took up jobs that were fairly exacting, but they paid me well…”

“And did you continue after the invasion?” Kaj asked.

“King Yenven had heard of me, and asked me to join the army which sought to contain the invasion. After the defeat, I continued to be a Vagabond, though I still followed the King’s orders.”

“Thanks for telling me,” Kaj said sincerely. “I guess it’s up to me now…”

“We should rest, and take advantage of this night of peace.”

They agreed that Kaj would rest first, and when there were only a few hours left before the crack of dawn, it was Clarice’s turn to immediately collapse and fall into a deep sleep.

Kaj had rested well enough, and was now intent on keeping the fire alive. The winds were cold, and occasionally carried droplets of water from the stream, which evaporated as soon as they touched the burning wood. The man stood up to stretch his legs, and pushed beyond the ivy branches; the stream’s waters flowed energetically, and their burbling was relaxing. Suddenly, he saw them shine in a peculiar way, as if crossed by a flash of light that dissolved not far ahead. He stood still for a moment, then looked up at the stream, and saw it again. He flinched with a start. Stepping forward to try to see it better, the silvery glow about the waters grew stronger and stronger; he stared at the light until, at last, he could no longer keep from covering his eyes. When it started to diminish, he saw a female figure, which was gradually coming into focus.

“Alana?” he asked incredulously.

“Hi, Kaj,” said the apparition.

“How can you be here?” His voice trembled, and his eyes filled with tears; he couldn’t believe it. “Forgive me for what happened! I couldn’t protect you!”

The girl lifted a hand to calm her brother down. “Don’t be hasty, Kaj. Everything happens for a reason,” she said in reassuring tones.

Her voice came from a faraway place, and her figure, evanescent and luminous, created a small whirlpool on the surface of the water that slowly carried the drops of water all around her in an elegant and sinuous dance. He watched her, and thought her beautiful—extremely beautiful. More so than he remembered. She was so delicate and gentle.

“I see much regret within you, Brother, but you must not be so remorseful, because my death was your salvation. You would have died in the city’s pyre, but instead you are now pursuing a greater goal.”

“But… don’t you care about your own life? I wasn’t there to save you! You paid the price for my mistakes!” he said, tears running down his cheeks.

“My death saved your life, and in your life there will be glory. You have to find out who you really are. You will find the answers you seek, but not now. I see through to your troubled soul, and to my delight, I see you have not changed,” she smiled sweetly.

“I understand what you’re telling me… I have to silence the woes of my past. Just like Clarice said.”

“Exactly. My spirit is at peace, and I will continue to guide you, as I have done so far, Brother. Now I see inside you; I see who you are. See you soon,” she said, reaching a hand for his face. Kaj felt a cold gust when his fingers touched it, and then, she dissolved as quickly as she had appeared.

“No! Alana! Wait! Don’t go away!” he shouted despondently. “Don’t leave me…” his voice trailed off.

“Kaj, what’s going on? I heard you scream!” said Clarice, emerging from the cave.

“You wouldn’t understand! She was… she was here! She arose from the water; there was a silvery light, and then she appeared! I swear it!” he said muddle-headedly, pointing to where she had appeared.

“Calm down! Who was here?” Clarice took him by the arm, trying to calm him down.

“My sister…” He lowered his eyes. Deciding he had to tell her what had happened, he tromped sulkily toward the fire to warm himself.

“Did her essence appear to you from the stream’s waters? You are one of the few who can make that claim,” said the elf, following him there; she looked at him with equal parts admiration and disbelief.

“I have to tell you what happened. Maybe it’ll help with what’s been plaguing me.” He leaned over to pick up his old diary, and opened it to show Alana’s portrait to Clarice, who formed a high opinion of her traveling companion’s drawing skills. The young woman had long straight hair, a dainty face, a sweet smile, cheerful and deep eyes, and a contented expression. A delicate necklace dangled from her slender neck.

“There used to be trouble among some groups of criminals in Lochbis. Their dealings were damaging the city’s economy, and city guards often turned a blind eye in exchange for bribes. I’d frequently visit Freh’s ore market, though sometimes we needed other, more hard-to-find wares, so I’d go sometimes to the large market in Varlas, too. One day, I’d returned from Freh, tired and hungry. I couldn’t wait to get home. I wasn’t paying enough attention to what was going on around me, and a group of bandits attacked me. I fought back, but they stole a lot. The losses were substantial, and when my father went to complain to the guards, they told him that he should be thankful I was still alive.” He sighed. “Long story short: they tried to steal weapons from the smithy, but unfortunately for them, I was there. I killed all three of them. Once I heard the guards, I cleaned up the scene, and then I recognized their tattoos: they were the same symbols that I had seen on the bandits outside the city. I found others from the same gang and killed them without thinking about the consequences. Then, one day, I found a note hanging on the smithy door that mentioned Alana. I rushed home, and when I opened the door…” His voice trembled a little. He got a lump in his throat, and his eyes began to moisten. Clarice was listening quite attentively. Kaj got up to take a sip of water and try to calm down.

“Don’t repress your feelings; it’ll only make things worse.”

“It’s better this way,” he said. He sat down and continued: “She was dead.” His voice was still choked, and a tear ran down his cheek. “The note on Alana’s body read: ‘Eye for an eye.’ I found out to my bitter chagrin that one of the bandits I had killed was the son of the gang’s leader. If nothing else, thanks to that, the corrupt guards were arrested and hanged.” Kaj clenched his fists. “The message was addressed to our parents, but it was my fault,” he concluded.

“I never would have imagined,” she admitted, visibly affected. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Trying not to burst into tears, he asked: “How was Alana able to show herself to me?”

“Most of these streams originate from the glaciers of the Hallowed Heights. These waters are full of the ancient and powerful magic that can be found there. They say only those on journeys of self-discovery can see loved ones or benevolent spirits. Those spirits can show people the way forward, or warn them about some personal shortcoming or imminent mistake they’re about to commit. Some believe that what’s actually appearing is the essence of the god Luhreil, who takes on a familiar appearance, or that they can arouse trust in the person who sees them.” Her words did not cause Kaj’s anxiety to abate. He was still in shock, and he still felt Alana’s cold fingers on his cheek. “Whatever happened to me, it’ll take me a while to digest.”

“Cilna reminds you of her, doesn’t she?”

Kaj nodded. “Yeah… she looks a lot like her…” He was clearly upset; he couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened. He had always been a realist and skeptic, and apart from magic, he had never given credence to anything related to gods and divine manifestations. Clarice respected his mood, and knew she had to leave him alone for a while.

*

Far from the forest, much further east, Sheera was busy distributing patrols along the banks of the Twinlakes. The marsh that connected the two lake basins had allowed some escaped slaves to reach what remained of Lochbis, venturing through the Whitetrunk and the grueling paths of the valleys of the Slumbering Peaks toward Falcon’s Pass. The orders from Eyjanborg were clear: they were to kill any fugitive slaves, along with the militia groups that provided them with relatively safe escape routes.

When Sheera arrived at Godar, she found some soldiers waiting for her. The highest-ranked among them presented himself, awaiting her orders.

“Is everyone here?” she asked.

“Yes, Commander,” replied the Chosen Soldier.

“Good. I will not give specific orders until tomorrow,” she yelled, proceeding toward the house that would have be her lodging. “Watch the beginning of the path that leads into the swamp, and check the nearby banks of the Twinlakes. I won’t tolerate any blunders.”

The soldier went on his way, and Sheera, annoyed and tired, holed up behind the door. Inside the building, the uggars had been waiting for her arrival for days; everything had been perfectly arranged. The sight of the food-laden table was quite welcome. Sheera put down her armor and weapons and sat at the table, devouring the splendid meat that the slaves had only lightly cooked for her, leaving it full of blood inside. She drank many a chalice of keb-brew, and partook of the grapes and berries that she so loved. She was sated when she could not even bring a small blueberry to her mouth any longer.

Just then, a knock on the door.

“Who in blazes!?” she shouted.

Quickly, a female slave went to open up. A messenger wrapped in a cloak and hood entered the house and handed Sheera a note. The tulvar read it and gave the male slave a glass of keb-brew as a reward, whispering a few words in the slave’s ear before sending him away.

An hour later, the Commander was in her room, waiting for the time designated by the message to arrive. She was swinging before her eyes the pendant her mother had given her. Sometimes it pulsed, and at other times, the light was more constant. Sheera could tell it was reacting to her mood. She had been the first female tulvar in several generations not to become a priestess. Forced to struggle constantly to earn a place in the military hierarchy, in ways her brothers Ramil and Ziglan hadn’t needed to, she learned to control her powers, and thereby stopped being an iveti (a so-called “wandering witch”)—she was now accepted as a warrior.

Outside the window, a sudden light flashed from the nearby woods, followed by another, and another. It was the signal—the hour of the meeting had arrived. She went to the bedroom door, and heard no footsteps or movements in the whole house. She put on her cloak and pulled up a large hood, before opening the door and scanning the corridor cautiously. Everyone was sleeping. With haste, she left the house, her footfalls light. The moon bathed everything in its light. When she caught sight of the trees, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“You may come out,” she said.

Three tulvars emerged from the darkness of the bushes. “We were afraid you were busy,” stated one of them.

“Why are we meeting earlier than planned?” asked Sheera.

The three looked at each other, and Enetor Urgal-Khun—a tall tulvar with extremely elegant bearing, the eldest of two brothers, and a member of Khelun’s right hand House (which was to say, the House of Sheera’s mother)—took the floor. “Datnu Turag-Khalin is dead.”

The princess burned with emotion. “What?”

“You knew he didn’t have the right motivation to go into all this. The Turag-Khalins have always been spineless. Not one of history’s greatest tulvars has ever hailed from that line. What matters is that she can’t harm any of us, now that she’s dead.”

“How did it happen?” asked Sheera.

“I killed her myself,” said Enetor. “Your brother Ziglan is in Banran now. His presence alone make her start raving. I killed her because otherwise she would have spilled everything,” he told those assembled. “It had to be done, Sheera.”

She knew he was right. “How did you justify it?”

“I blamed the human slave. I promised him that I would kill him myself without making him suffer…”

Zler Naled turned to Sheera. “We lost one individual to save the whole. Remember the rules you laid down: our goal is more important than any one person.”

“I know, Zler…” she admitted, unable to hide her soft spot for him. Zler was a few years older than her, and they’d known each other from an early age. Zler equaled Sheera in height, and he possessed a beautiful physique but also an angular face. He too was elegant, even if his gait and poise revealed he was a warrior at heart.

The last among them was the witty and bashful Rerik Irbhun. He was an important Archon of Athal, on whose shoulders the burden of all the commercial affairs of his house was placed. He was listening carefully, and thinking over his words. “Sheera, we have to decide how we proceed from this point forward; many are starting to get impatient… what do we know about the dwarves?”

“We know nothing for certain. The wall that blocks access to the Iron Plateau is constantly guarded by dwarves and the warriors of the human Brownbear Clan, killing any and all tulvars who draw near,” explained Sheera.

“Not to mention how isolated Vetmark is; every access-way has been blocked by the snow…” Enetor reminded everyone.

They could hear excited voices from afar: the sentries had sighted slaves. Sheera was forced to return to the city, and so the four saluted each other, and the meeting was ended.