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Chapter 22 - Assipattle River

Three days had passed since Bannick’s death and suspicion still hung heavy in the air not unlike the dark purple rain clouds in the Scorian sky above.  Although some people believed Bannick had fallen through a window after a night of drunken revelry, it was hard for most to accept that someone of his stature could die so easily.  Bannick Landen had faced innumerable dangers, survived skirmishes and battles, travelled from one end of the Myr to the other – he could not just fall from a window.

          There were those who believed Bannick’s demise was related to the mission to kill Caliban.  Although Lara Brand did not know Bannick, she believed this to be the only logical explanation for his death.  Caliban, it seemed, had successfully launched a pre-emptive strike.  The assailant may have been privy to the deliberations of the council.  Perhaps he or she was still close-by.  ‘Maybe,’ Lara mused to herself looking around the squad, ‘the killer is one of us.’  

          She was unable to dispel uneasy thoughts about the fellow members of her company.  Her eyes jumped from one member of the squad to the other, and with each individual came a motive.  She imbued each person with the capacity to commit the murder: Sessymirians were capable of killing their grandmothers, so Lokasenna Hagen was not to be trusted; the secret and deadly ways of the Susanese meant Sumi Kimura could have equally done it; the famously friendly nature of Will Stoops would have made it easy for him to lure Bannick to an unfortunate end; and centuries old trade disputes between Scoriath and Arnaksak gave Sir Edgar Worseley all the justification he required.  All could be guilty.  All except the Tagtug the Mabbit who seemed so impotent and inconsequential that it seemed ridiculous to consider him.  And yet, the complete absence of malice or power in the Mabbit made her suspect him more than any other.  

          Lara shifted in her saddle.  Her snorse was fleet of foot and any other rider would have been pleased with the beast she had been given, but unlike most Myrrans, Lara did not have legs to hang on either side of the beast and this made things hard for her.  She tried coiling her serpentine lower half around the girth of the beast but every time it sprang over a rock or log, the coils would tighten and the creature gave out a quacking yelp of pain.  Lara tried balancing her abdomen and tail along her mount’s back, but it was hard to do so at such a swift pace and she didn’t like the feel of the creature’s damp fur on her scales.

          Edgar had been watching her struggling with the situation.  ‘My lady, perhaps you would be better off bestride the back of my steed.  You can hold on to me.  Juliet will bear our collective weight.’

          It was a chivalrous offer.  They had hundreds of leagues to cover and Lara could not keep up this circus performance for much longer.  She looked up at the knight on his huge snorse.  Edgar’s face was a benign landscape.  He smiled and held out a gloved hand.   At that moment Lara’s snorse jumped a low-lying fence and she rose six inches off her uncomfortable saddle.  Her arms flailed in the air and she prepared herself for a rough landing.  But Edgar had grabbed the witch and with impressive strength, pulled her across the space between them and swung her behind him.  

          Lara tried to put her arms around his shoulders but he was a big man wearing bigger armour and it was difficult to hold him securely.

          ‘Lady, hold onto my belt,’ the knight offered, sensing her discomfort.

          She reached down and clasped her hands around his waist.  Lara had never been this close to a male of any race in the Myr.  Even above the stench of the fens and paddocks through which they were riding, she could smell the Scorian’s distinctly inoffensive odour.  She had assumed all soldiers would reek of perspiration, mud and dirty linen, but there were no such smells emanating from Edgar’s person.  That is not to say he didn’t have a scent; he smelt like a man but a clean one and Lara found herself enjoying the olfactory sensations more than she could ever admit.  She inhaled as if sampling a bottle of Nessan wine, but instead of picking out the flavours of the grape, she was differentiating the smell of his hair from that of his skin.  She closed her eyes to deepen the experience and a smile spread across her face as her mind latched onto the smell, tied the moment intrinsically to it and locked it away in the vault of her memory.

          ‘Are you alright?’ asked Stoops who had drawn alongside them and was perplexed at the sight of the Moraen, closed-eyed and sniffing Edgar’s back.

          Lara sat bolt upright and nodded quickly, not wanting anyone to dwell of what had just transpired.

           Stoops moved off, sensing conversation would not be forthcoming, his snorse labouring under his weight.  He drew alongside Sumi and Tagtug twenty yards ahead, and whilst neither of them were particularly loquacious, the Tuirrenian stayed by their side for the rest of the morning.

          Tagtug’s snorse also carried the party’s provisions and from time to time Lara noticed Stoops leaning over to pull something to eat from the stores on the beast’s back.  Lokasenna had struck out on her own and was fifty yards ahead of the rest of the company, oblivious to the fact that by lunchtime, Stoops has eaten the company’s supplies for the day.  

 

 

Edgar was the complete gentleman.  He politely asked Lara about her home and her people, and he in turn told her about his travels.  The knight seemed genuinely interested in her life, despite it seeming provincial and dull to her when compared to the great exploits of a knight of a Pelinese court.  He was enthralled by the Pryderi and their ability to conceive a child without the presence of men.

She was nervous he would ask questions about her own child but he was the consummate diplomat and avoided straying into areas that could cause her discomfort.

          He was perfectly happy to talk about his own family.  He was raised in Pelinore, the son of a respected blacksmith.  At the age of fifteen he became a squire in the court of King Pius.  He had never married, and since the passing of his parents, he had no-one in his life other than a younger brother by the name of Dominic, a lad he spoke of in exceedingly affectionate terms.  He was also extremely proud of Scoriath and would offer commentary on the land around them.  Indeed, Edgar would sometimes offer such unnecessary detail in his descriptions that Lara found herself nodding off at times over the course of the long ride.  Despite this – or perhaps because of it – Lara was comforted by his voice; it was a welcome distraction from the drab lowlands through which they now travelled.

          In the first day of their journey, the party had moved through pretty fields and farms where dull-eyed grizzums grazed on the flowerfall, and great flocks of larida owned the sky.  But as they rode north, farms gave way to fens and fens to thicker bogs.  The green and gold of the grass faded and the land and sky met in a grey embrace.

          In one sludge-filled area thirty leagues north-east of Cessair, even the snorses struggled traversing the muddy ground.  Edgar cautioned the company to stay on their mounts.  ‘Our steeds can traverse the fen but we will sink.’ 

          However the snorse upon which Tagtug was riding contradicted the knight’s claim, stumbling in the bog and he dropped the compass Mulupo had given him.  He climbed down to pick it up, and he noticed the ground tremble as he laid foot upon it.  He reached out to grab the compass, but it slid away from him as the surface of the mound split apart to reveal a yellow eye the size of the Mabbit’s head.

          Lara screamed and Tagtug scrambled back up onto his snorse, snatching the compass from the dirt as he did so.

          ‘Stay on your mounts!’ Edgar cried, his voice drowned out by the grunts of the snorses, unnerved by Lara’s reaction to the creatures below.  

          ‘There are things in the mud!  In the mud!  Yellow eyed… things!’ she exclaimed, unsettling the snorses even more.

          Edgar turned in the saddle and spoke loudly enough for the others to hear, but gently enough to reassure the Moraen.  ‘They cannot escape the mud and they would not harm you if they could.’

          Lokasenna had already crossed a patch where numerous yellow-eyed creatures lay.  Lara’s outburst had disturbed them and across the muddy flat, pairs of glowing eyes opened and stared upward.  The Sessymirian was not particularly alarmed by the presence of these denizens of the mire but she had never heard of them before and her curiousity was piqued.  ‘What are they?’ she called to Edgar.

          ‘They are called skorpya and we are very lucky to see them.  I have not seen a skorpyan colony since I was a boy.’ 

          The members of the company made their way carefully to the edge of the flat where Lokasenna waited.

          ‘The colony is stuck here in the mud until it is time to breed in late spring.  The spring rains release the creatures for a few days and then they mate.  They return to their mud pit where they will stay until the next mating season.’

          ‘What happens to the young?’ Lara asked scrunching up her nose in disdain.  

‘They are born in the mud.  Look, there!’  He shot out a gloved hand where a smaller pair of glowing eyes could be seen next to the eyes of its mother.  He sighed contentedly; very few Myrrans had seen a skorpyan calf.

          ‘What an existence!  What’s the point?’ Lara exclaimed, failing to recognise the occasion as a momentous one.

          ‘You could well argue that for us all – what’s the point?’ Edgar politely retorted.  Something in Lara’s comment upset him, but she was too disgusted by the skorpya to notice.

          ‘But to stay fixed in one spot, doing nothing but watching – it’s hardly living.  I’d rather be dead.’

          ‘Miss Brand – hardly living?  You undervalue the sanctity of life when you place it upon a scale.  Do not mistake these creatures’ torpidity for uselessness.  Though seldom seen, there are thousands of skorpya colonies throughout the fen.  They feed on the larvae of the moskita which would ravage this country if not kept in check.”  

          Lara was taken aback by his sobriety, and instinctively said, ‘So?’  She regretted it as soon as it left her mouth.

‘The skorpya did not choose its existence, but it lives it fully within the boundaries placed upon it.  Just as you strive to do.’  His manner was resolute.  Uncompromising.  It was not that he was harsh with the Moraen, but his voice had lost its characteristic softness, and that shocked Lara more than any verbal attack could.

          ‘I’m sorry, Sir Knight.  I did not mean to offend.’  And she meant it.  She knew she had disappointed him in some way; from nowhere an uneasiness had formed between them, their discomfort magnified by the presence of her hands around his waist.

          Edgar said nothing, and wheeled his snorse away from the mud flat.  He whispered something into its ear and the beast exploded into action, past Lokasenna, striking out across the fen, leaving the rest of the party behind.

 

 

Lara could hear nothing but the northern wind blustering and the soft pad-pad of the snorse upon the land.  Edgar was silent.  She tugged gently on his cloak.  “Sir Knight?”  

          He did not answer.  She was not sure why the inexplicable situation affected her so, but tears had welled up in her eyes.  ‘Edgar?’

          ‘Yes, Miss Brand?’  

          ‘I am not sure what I have said that bothers you so, but I am truly sorry for it.’

          Although she could not see his face, Lara instinctively knew that he was digesting her apology.  After a few seconds, he pulled the snorse to a halt and swivelled in the saddle.  Realising the moment called for a familiarity his armour prohibited, he bared his head, tucking the helmet with its great plume under one arm.  His face declared his forgiveness long before his mouth uttered any words.  His eyes put her at ease and she risked a smile which he gave back without hesitation.  ‘No, my lady.  The apology is mine.  It’s just… you touched upon a nerve.  I shouldn’t have castigated you.’

          Lara did not know what it meant to be castigated, but she felt that whatever it was, Edgar had not done it without reason.

‘Can you tell me why –’

          He cut her off with a gentle gesture of silence.  ‘In time, you will find out the answer to your question.’

          Before she could query his mysterious comment, Lokasenna rode past sneering, ‘If you two children have worked out your differences, we must be going.  We must reach the Assipattle by nightfall.’

          She kicked unnecessarily harshly at her snorse’s sides.  The creature yelped and lurched into a run across the dreary landscape, the Sessymirian driving her heels in at every opportunity.  This was Lokasenna’s way: gentleness was a flaw, subtlety was a weakness.  For three days she had urged her mount on by insulting it often and whipping it with a branch she had plucked from a tree.  It was obvious that Edgar was uncomfortable with this treatment as every time she rebuked the beast or struck it, his mouth would open as if to say something and then close, showing the restraint that so characterised his every movement.  In contrast to Lokasenna, Edgar would often offer gentle words of encouragement to his steed Juliet, leaning down to rub her fetlocks and scratch her back.

          Lokasenna kept to herself and seemed unwilling to consult with her squad over direction and tactics.  She barked orders and made demands but rarely discussed matters.  Their mission brief was simple enough – by backroads and fields, they were to travel to Pelinore in northern Scoriath.  Once there, they were to acquire a vessel to make the difficult Oshalla Ocean crossing en route to the Nilfheim Breach in Sessymir.  From there they would enter the Endless and hunt down Caliban.

          At first Edgar struggled with the mission’s objective – assassination – but their journey had already taken them past small farmhouses that had been attacked by the Ghul and what he saw quickly convinced him that their objective was just – Caliban could not be permitted to live.

          The Ghul presence in Scoriath suggested there was a breach somewhere nearby from which the brutal warriors ventured forth on their sorties of destruction and desecration.  Edgar toyed with the idea of seeking out this breach but knew Lokasenna would not entertain the thought of anything that delayed them in their journey north to Nilfheim.

 

 

On the second day of their ride through Lower Scoriath, the party came upon a church where all the priests were hanged upside down from the rafters.  Attached to the church was an orphanage.  Edgar ventured inside the building to find the children had been slaughtered and their blood had been used to pain a message on the orphanage walls:

          ‘I cannot wait forever Remiel.’  

          This was the first of many such messages Caliban would send to the peoples of the Myr.  He was taunting them, goading them into action.

          Edgar pondered what he would do if he ever had the opportunity to meet the brother of Caliban, who seemingly was the catalyst for all the ills that had come to light over the past year.  He wondered how a relationship between two brothers could ever decay to the point that it set worlds at war, and thanked his god that his own relationship with his sibling was true and constant.

          Although the horrific discovery of the orphanage was sickening, it was not enough to make Will Stoops lose his appetite.  They had stopped on a windswept hillock to rest the snorses and to take their bearings.  Stoops clambered down from his snorse – it whinnied happily to be relieved of his prodigious weight – and scanned the ground as if expecting to find something.  ‘Ah ha!’ he whispered in triumph, reaching down to the earth beside his boot and pulling something out of the dry, yellow grass.

          ‘What have you found?’ asked Lara curiously.

          Stoops presented a gloved hand proudly on which lay a small brown mound.  Lara stared at the mound incomprehensibly, and then caught a whiff of a pungent smell that made her slither back a step.

          Edgar was hunched over a map Lokasenna had cast on the ground before them.  He looked up at Stoops with a distasteful look on his face.

          ‘You hungry?’ Stoops asked cheekily.

          ‘That isn’t what I think it is, is it?’ Edgar asked tentatively.

          ‘Well that depends on what you think it is, doesn’t it?’ Stoops responded playfully.

          ‘You’re not planning to eat that are you?’ Lara exclaimed.

          Stoops looked incredulously at her then beamed a broad smile.  ‘Why would I want to do that?’  He dropped the pile of excrement and threw a massive arm around her shoulders, squeezing her affectionately whilst swivelling her around to face the west.    ‘Look!’ he said, pointing across the hillocks rising and falling across the spare wilderness surrounding them.  ‘Can you see?’

          ‘See what?’ Lara said uncomfortably from under the recesses of his arm.

          ‘I have something exciting to share with you, Miss Brand.’

          His rich brown eyes twinkled and Lara was reminded of her mother.  She had the same eyes.  Deep, dark and like Stoops, they had shone with a hint of mischief.  ‘About a league away to the west, a small herd of staggorns is grazing.  We are downwind from them, and they are unaware of our presence.’

          Lara smiled fondly.  The mention of staggorns had unsurfaced a long-forgotten memory.  ‘You have my mother’s eyes.’

Stoops was not sure how to respond so he just said, ‘I see.’

          ‘I have heard of staggorns before, Mr Stoops.  My mother told me about them long ago.  She said staggorns were beautiful, noble creatures that had been hunted to the brink of extinction.  They have horns as sharp as Sarras thorns and don’t take too kindly to being eaten.’

          ‘Your mother was right,’ Stoops agreed.  ‘I have seen what a staggorn can do to a would-be predator.  The carnage left by an angry male staggorn is something to see.  Or not, depending on your level of squeamishness.  But the risk is worth it.  If you’ve ever eaten roast staggorn, I’m sure you’ll agree.’

          Edgar looked up and addressed Lara.  ‘In Pelinore, hunters brought in their kills on wagons, headed either for the butchers of the taxidermist.  The horns were so sharp that they could slice open the skin of any passer-by who got in the path of these bloody convoys.’

          Lara's brow wrinkled.  ‘What’s a taxidermist?’

          ‘A taxidermist is a craftsman of sorts, one who stuffs and mounts the skins of dead animals,’ replied Edgar.

          Lara’s face wrinkled further, but not in confusion.  She was clearly disgusted by the concept.  ‘That’s obscene!’ she exclaimed.            ‘Who in the Myr would want such an object?’

          ‘Sessymirians pay large sums for the horns,’ Sumi stated, a hint of disgust also evident in her quiet voice.

          At the mention of her race, Lokasenna – who rarely took part in such conversations – stepped forward and held Sumi in her cold gaze.  ‘Yes.  That’s true.  Such trophy heads adorn the walls of my countrymen’s houses, alongside the heads of Keelii, huks, marroks and blood-beaked ostraAmbassador Falskog is rumoured to have a rare white peg’ii from Cephalonia hanging over his hearth.’

          ‘Surely you don’t condone this obscene practice?’ Lara asked, her tail twitching in agitation.

          ‘Of course I do.  The acquisition of such objects of art is a rich part of Sessymirian culture.  In fact, my office in Strom Mir has been decorated with a magnificent striped staggorn.  His horns would be twelve feet across.  He had gored three of Nilfheim’s best hunters to death before I managed to kill the beast.’  Lokasenna was standing tall, clearly proud of her country’s traditions; her defiant stance was inviting anyone to take issue with what she had just said.

          It was Sumi who took up the challenge.  She glowered at Lokasenna.  ‘What a wonderful piece of furnishing!  An animal head!  I wonder what adorns your hallways – cadavers perhaps?’  The disdain in her voice made her sarcasm unmistakable.  ‘If I were the Mabbit, I’d sleep with one eye open, lest our leader decides she wants to make a trophy of him!’

          Lokasenna had invited this rebuke and was prepared to match it.  ‘Your hypocrisy galls me.  The Susanese have plundered the oceans for centuries, yet frown upon any and every Sessymirian pursuit.  I am well acquainted with your race’s predilection for taking the moral high ground in matters of trade, but your people have slaughtered just as many leviatha as mine.’

          Sumi’s face was usually unreadable, but for a brief second her emotions were tattooed across her countenance.  ‘That’s not true.  We have long since abandoned this practice.’

          ‘Really?  We still see Susanese ships scouring our oceans.’  Lokasenna stepped closer to Sumi, clearly trying to intimidate the smaller woman.

          Sumi stood her ground.  ‘Maybe we should kill and stuff the Moraen,’ she sneered, waving a hand towards Lara.  ‘She does have a tail after all.’

          Lokasenna looked down at Sumi and said, ‘Princess Sumi, you hardly have the tongue for sarcasm.  Do not think I will –’

          ‘Enough!’ cried Stoops, the large palms of his hands raised in a gesture of supplication.  ‘Please, let’s not bring up old rivalries between races.  We have a common enemy and a long way to go.’

          The effect was immediate.  Both Sumi and Lokasenna cast their eyes down like chidden children, although Lara noticed a throbbing vein in Lokasenna’s temple pulsating with agitation.

          Stoops slung his longbow over his shoulders and proclaimed, ‘I’m going to get myself something to eat.’

          ‘Do you want company?’ Edgar offered, desirous of any activity that would remove him from the present company.

          ‘Thank-you Sir Edgar,” said Stoops congenially, ‘but I think it’s better I hunted alone.’

          Edgar nodded disappointingly and moved away from the group to clean the mud from his boots.  Stoops set off but stopped within a few yards and turned.  ‘Edgar, if I’m not back within the hour, come looking for me!’

          At first this seemed like a mild joke to Lara, but the sober looks on her companions’ faces suggested the request was genuine and not a whimsical moment of humour.

          ‘I will do as you ask,’ answered Edgar.

          As the amorphous bulk of Will Stoops faded into the long dry grass at the crest of the hill, Lara looked over to Edgar who was using a knife to pick off bit of caked dirt from the soles of his shoe.  ‘What did he mean by that?’ she asked the knight.

          Edgar stopped his delicate work and looked Lara straight in the eyes and said, ‘The staggorn is especially dangerous if cornered.  It could turn on Stoops and impale him on its horns before he had a chance to loose off an arrow in defence.’

          Lara nodded as she took in the danger facing her companion.  ‘He must really be hungry,’ she stated wryly.

 

 

An hour passed.  Lara watched the sun gently creep behind the cloud-laden canopy above and her anxiousness grew with every minute Stoops did not return.  She hardly knew him, but she had chewed her thumb into a callous as she waited for Edgar to decide when and how to find the big Tuirrenian.

          ‘I think I’d better go,’ Edgar stated, as if aware of Lara’s thoughts.

          ‘I’ll come too!’ she stated.

          Edgar clasped her gently by the shoulders and said softly, ‘You’ll be safer here, my lady.’

          Lara recoiled a little.  ‘Do you realise how patronising that sounds Sir Edgar?’ she said bluntly.

          As the knight put on his helmet, he gave an apologetic smile.  ‘Miss Brand, please forgive me if I sounded –’

          She put a finger to her mouth and received his silence as a result.  ‘Let’s just find him, shall we?’

Lokasenna, who had grown increasingly annoyed by Stoops’ absence, barked an ultimatum in their general area.  ‘If you’re not back in an hour’s time, we’re leaving without you.’  She then lay back on the grass and closed her eyes.

 

 

They rode off into the west, Edgar resplendent in his gold and red garb, and Lara looking significantly less noble, clutching onto the knight desperately as he urged his steed into a gallop.

          The grass below rushed by in a blur.  Edgar’s eyes scanned the terrain looking for some sign of Stoops’ passing.  Lara said nothing, allowing Edgar to concentrate on the task at hand.  She looked ahead across the undulating hills and saw nothing but a softly billowing curtain of grass.  The low-lying clouds swept by and the rays of the sun they occasionally let through raced over the grey land.           Unexpectedly, Edgar spoke.  ‘How did your mother know so much about staggorns?  I thought the Pryderi never travelled beyond Morae’s borders.’

          ‘Not all Pryderi are insular,’ Lara replied.  ‘A few travel abroad.  Well, never far from Morae, but my mother was one of a small number who occasionally sort out work in neighbouring lands.’

          Edgar’s eyes remained fixed on the immediate surroundings, but his mind was centred upon Lara.  ‘Work?  What sort of work?’

          ‘The sort of work other Myrrans could not do.’

          Edgar mulled over this answer.  And then he realised what Lara meant.  ‘Oh, magick.  Your mother performed magick for others.’  He seemed somewhat sedate in his statement, as if there were something about magick that unsettled him.

          Lara could feel his discomfort.  ‘Why does that bother you, Sir Knight?’

          He briefly flicked his head around to look into the eyes he could feel upon the back of his head.  ‘It’s not that it bothers me, Miss Brand, but…’  He paused, trying to find the words that would best encapsulate his feelings.  ‘I am a simple man and I have no understanding of the strange skills of your people.  Like most Myrrans, I fear what I do not know.’

          Lara laughed and as she did so she could feel the Scorian’s large body relax as if relieved by her reaction.  ‘Sir Edgar, you have nothing to fear from the Pryderi!’

          He nodded.  ‘Perhaps fear was too strong a word.’  He paused a moment, then said, ‘Please go on.  You were telling me about your mother.’

          ‘From time to time she worked for farmers in the lowlands, casting spells she had created to protect their livestock.’

          ‘Protect?  From whom?’

          ‘Mainly thieves.  And natural predators.  Sometimes disease.  My mother was gifted, one of the few Pryderi who could create new incantations and –’

          Her voice trailed off as Lara realised that something had taken his focus away from her.  He pulled hard on the snorse’s reigns and without warning jumped from his mount onto the grassy ground beneath.  He strode back the way they had come, his gloved hand stroking the long reeds of grass, looking for something that he had caught in his peripheral vision.  Lara slid down off the snorse and stood watching him stare into the rippling sea of dull yellow that surrounded them.  The knight’s head craned forward, tilting from side to side, his eyes darting around to find…

          ‘Blood!’ he exclaimed, his hand pointing at a clump of darkly-stained grass.

          Lara slithered over to him and gazed down upon the blood-stained stalks.  ‘That’s not his blood is it?’ she asked tentatively.

          “I’m not sure,’ Edgar replied.  

          Lara was unprepared for the knight’s uncertainty.  It seemed out of character. ‘What do you mean you’re not sure?’ she laughed.

          Edgar frowned a little and turned away.

          Lara smiled apologetically, touched that this man could fight off battalions of enemies without injury, but could be so easily wounded by the slip of a woman’s tongue.  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently.  ‘I didn’t mean it.’

          Edgar gave a small bow to indicate his acceptance of the apology.  He then fell to his knee and touched the dirt at the feet of the grass stalks.  ‘He passed by here.  Here are his boots’ impressions upon the land.’  

          She followed him back to his snorse and without warning he clutched her around the waist and lifted her onto Juliet’s back.  ‘We have no time to waste,’ he explained awkwardly and threw his leg over the saddle and stirred his mount into a gallop in one fluid motion.

 

 

They rode for ten more minutes before stopping at the top of a particularly steep hill.  Their eyes scanned the monotonous panorama before them.  Suddenly Lara screamed as she spotted a body lying in a small creek at the base of the hill upon which they were perched.  ‘It’s him!’ she cried and Edgar kicked Juliet’s sides.  She exploded into a frightening race down the steepest face of the hill.  The world rocked violently as she hurtled down the slope.

          A bone-shuddering leap across the creek announced their arrival at the bottom of the hill.  Edgar quickly dismounted and ran to the body.  He tripped as he did so and fell onto a rock, gashing his forehead wide open, but he did not feel it, nor was he aware of the blood rushing out the cut.  He felt nothing but the sickening feeling that was a prelude to the confirmation of a dreadful fear.

          It was Stoops.  Though he had been sliced into pieces there was no mistaking it was him.  Lara could hardly bear to look at him.  There was not an inch of his body that was not bathed in blood.  His clothes had been ripped off and apparently dragged away, as the body before them was completely naked.  There was no sign of his weapons either.  It was as if the staggorn had taken away trophies of its kill, but Lara was too shocked to see the irony.  The gruesome sight before her made her want to retch, and she clenched her teeth to avoid doing so.  Stoops’ torso had been so severely gored, she could see through to his spine.  Underneath a wet mask of blood, the once jovial face of Will Stoops was frozen in pain.  His dead eyes were staring up into the heavens, deep blue orbs floating against the blood red of his stained skin.  

          Edgar knelt down and cradled the Tuirrenian’s body.  The knight’s breast plate and steel-clad arms were smeared in Stoops’ blood.  Edgar was a portrait of despair.  It was clear he admired the big Tuirrenian and he clutched the dead body to his chest in a forlorn gesture.

          Lara slithered behind Edgar and tenderly put her hands on his armour-plated shoulders.  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she offered, but the knight seemed immobilised by sorrow, unable to move, unable to hear.  All around, flesh and internal organs lay over the grass, the bloody debris bending the stalks flat under its weight.  It seemed the staggorn had been merciless in its attack and had not stopped savaging Stoops until long after his death.  The cuts were straight and deep as if the horned creature was trying to flay the very flesh from Stoops’ bones.  Entrails had been gouged out of the cavity of Stoops’ chest and flung aside.  The enormity of the violence perpetrated on the man’s body enveloped Lara like a bloody miasma and at that moment she was glad the species was facing extinction.  She hoped that one day soon every remaining staggorn would be hanging on Lokasenna’s walls.

          Edgar lifted a gloved hand and wiped the blood from Stoops’ face.  ‘Do you have a hero?’ he asked.

Lara looked around, confused by the question.  The knight did not turn to face her, but in the absence of anyone else, she had to assume the question was intended for her.  ‘A hero?  I… I can’t say I do.’

          ‘Not even as a child?’ he said softly.

          ‘Well, I guess my mother was my hero in a way,’ Lara reflected.  ‘She died heroically, saving me from a pack of marroks.’

Edgar turned.  He had slivers of tears sitting on the rim of his eyelids, unbroken and precariously balanced on the small platforms beneath his grey eyes.  ‘I am sorry to hear that.’

          Lara gave an empathetic smile.  ‘It’s okay.  I’ve dealt with it.’  She coiled her serpentine tail as she lowered herself to be at his eye level.  ‘Why did you ask?’

          He took off his helmet and scratched his scalp before wiping back his deep black hair.  Only yards above, the cold, clammy hands of low-lying clouds clasped themselves around the hill the pair had descended.  Within moments, Lara Brand and Edgar Worseley were cloaked in a fine mist.  The knight shivered.  He looked broken.  His golden armour was blackened by blood and dirt, and his previous grandeur had all but disappeared.  To Lara, Edgar looked smaller than he had before.  Younger.  Indeed, it was then Lara realised that he was not much older than herself, and just as vulnerable to the vagaries of having emotions.  It was as if he had stepped off a pedestal, and in becoming less of an object to be admired, he had become more of a man.

          ‘As a child, I would always hear stories of William Stoops of Tuirren.  His skills as a warrior were the stuff of legend in Pelinore.’  His eyes unfocused as his mind wandered back to images of his childhood.  ‘My brother Dominic and I would often play games where he would be a Sessymirian pirate and I would be Will Stoops, defending the city of Tir Thuinn with my unerring marksmanship.  We would always fight over who was to play Stoops, and because I was the oldest, I always got my way.’

          Lara gazed tenderly at the knight.  It was then she realised that the blood painting the left side of his face was not Stoops’, but his own.  She instinctively reached out to the wound, her fingers stopping a few inches from his face.  Edgar looked up at her as her eyes closed.  Her lips were moving, but he could not make out what she was saying – or rather, chanting.  He could feel warmth emanating from her fingertips and he gave himself to it, closing his eyes as her words floated over him like a morning breeze.  And then, as swiftly as it began, the warm feeling stopped and the spell was ended.  Edgar put a hand to his forehead and found no trace of the wound.  The bleeding had stopped and his skin was unbroken.

          ‘You healed me?’ he said slowly, incredulously.

          Lara blushed, unsure of whether he disapproved of her magick.

          ‘Yes.  I hope you don’t mind,’ she said demurely.

          Edgar was amazed.  ‘You’re a healer?’

          ‘No.  I can only manage small cuts and abrasions.’  Lara could feel his staring eyes upon her.  She blushed.  Without thinking, she picked up his helmet and started wiping it with her robe, unconsciously needing something for her hands to do whilst he shared his childhood memories with her.  ‘So, Stoops was your hero?’ she asked, inviting him to elaborate upon his recollections.

          ‘Yes, very much so.  Once, when I was ten, he visited Pelinore.  I can still picture the day when his boat arrived at the docks.  The word had got around, and before the vessel had even birthed, most of Pelinore had assembled down at quay.  Even King Pius and his entourage had ventured down from the Keep to witness the arrival of Will Stoops.  I had pushed my way to the edge of stone wall overlooking the marina just in time to see Stoops’ ship The Hungry Grizzum slide into its berth.  Below me the surging waters of the Nessan Sea pounded the stone wall and its timber braces.  Although I did not know how to swim, my fear of drowning was completely erased by my desire to see this legend from the east.  

          ‘After what seemed like an eternity, Stoops came up on deck and the crowd surged forward.  I was precariously perched on the wall and as the King strode out to greet Stoops, the crowd parted and I was unceremoniously impelled from the wall.  The world reeled around me as I plummeted towards a wet demise.  But before the cold waves could claim me, I felt something shoot past my ear and descent was abruptly halted.  Five feet below me, the white tipped waves licked and snapped at my heels like hungry marroks.  I was hanging by the collar of my shirt.  I instinctively reached above my head to find a long, white arrow with scarlet fletching.  The arrow was buried deep into a vertical oakaen brace running from the top of the wall to deep under the surface of the heaving water below.  From the deck of The Hungry Grizzum, Will Stoops had fired an arrow so quickly and accurately the entire crowd held their collective breath before erupting into rapturous applause.  And as the crowd cheered, I just dangled helplessly, pinned to the sea wall in a state of grateful shock.’

          If she had breathed during the telling of the story, Lara could not remember it.  She had felt every word of the knight’s tale and now could understand why he was so discomposed over the bowman’s demise.  ‘He saved your life,’ Lara stated, her admiration for Stoops doing much to ease Edgar’s pain.

          ‘Yes he did, but that’s not all.  It was what he did afterwards that really defined his qualities, made me realise that he deserved every bit of praise he had ever received.’

          Lara’s gaze encouraged him to continue.   But Edgar was looking down on the desecrated body in his arms.  Stoops’ head was tilted back at a sharp angle as the knight struggled to maintain his embrace of the massive, bloody body in his arms.  Edgar lay Stoops down on the grass and tenderly wiped the blood from his face.

          Lara spoke, her voice no more than a whisper: ‘Please, continue.’

          The knight cleared his throat.  ‘The roar of the crowds was so deafening I could hardly hear the crashing waves below me.  In fact, the people of Pelinore were so enamoured by Stoops’ incredible display of marksmanship, no-one thought to help me up.  The cheering cacophony above rose in volume and suddenly a large hand with a leather tab over the forefingers wrapped itself around my tunic.  My collar was ripped off as I was lifted back onto the cobblestone pavement of the promenade to stand face to waist with Will Stoops.’

          ‘He pulled you from the wall!’ Lara said.

          ‘Yes,’ Edgar nodded.  ‘My father said the King had stood imperiously at the stairs where the dock met the promenade.  He was clapping just like everyone else, clearly impressed with Stoops’ skill with the bow, but somewhat less interested with my fate. Stoops ran up the dock to where the King was waiting, with his hand outstretched ready to be kissed by this famous visitor to his realm.  But Stoops pushed the hand aside and made his way through to that section of the promenade over which I had fallen.  He hung himself over the edge – he was a lot thinner then – and grabbed hold of me.  In one powerful motion hoisted me onto dry land.  The crowd exploded into even louder applause, all except the King and his entourage who had promptly left the promenade.  Stoops squatted down on his haunches and grinned broadly as he ruffled my hair.  “It’s a bit too cold to go swimming, isn’t it lad?” he joked.

          “I can’t swim,” I replied breathlessly.

          To this he smiled and said, “Well you’d better start learning if you’re going to fall off walls.”

          “How will I ever repay you?” I asked, overwhelmed with gratitude.

          “Who knows?” he said.  “One day – if I live long enough – you may save me back.”

          “But I’m just a boy,” I said.

          “Just a boy now, but if you work hard and stay focused, one day you could become a great man.  A knight perhaps or the captain of a ship.”

          ‘Before that day, I had never thought of becoming a knight, but that younger Stoops planted the seed of an idea that I would end up dedicating every hour to bringing to fruition.  Back then I was only a stable-hand and spent most hours of the day shovelling snorse excrement around and feeding grizzums, covered in muck with no thoughts of how to extricate myself from it.  Over the following five years, I taught myself how to read, and how to fight.  I learnt the ways of a knight, and doggedly pursued every member of the Pelinore Guard until one accepted me as his squire.  Had I never met Stoops, I would still be in the stables.’

          ‘I understand,’ Lara said softly.

          ‘One day – if I live long enough – you may save me back, he had said.  But I failed.  I didn’t save him.’  Edgar wiped the last vestiges of blood from Stoops’ face.  Then something completely unexpected happened – Lara laughed.

          It was not a nervous laugh nor was it a perverse way of coping with Stoops’ death.  It was an explosion of delight, of sheer joy.  Edgar spun around to see the Moraen beaming as she stared down at Stoops’ face.  She clapped her hands in excitement and slithered around beside the bloody body.  At first Edgar was too shocked by this behaviour to comment upon it; he just gazed dumbfounded as Lara grabbed Stoops’ head and held his face close to her own.

          ‘Miss Brand, you do great disrespect –’

          ‘My mother had brown eyes!’ she exclaimed with unmistakeable delectation.

          ‘I don’t follow.’

          ‘Stoops has brown eyes, just like my mother’s.  He not dead!’

          ‘What?’  Edgar leaned forward and took hold of the bloody head.  He stared into its dead blue eyes…

          ‘Of course, I should have realised earlier,’ Lara scolded herself.  ‘That explains why his clothes aren’t here!’

          Edgar was totally perplexed.  ‘Are you telling me this isn’t Stoops?’

          ‘Of course it isn’t!’  It was not Lara who spoke.  The voice was much deeper.  ‘How can that be Stoops when… I am!’

          They wheeled around to see the broad figure of Will Stoops walking down the cutting at the bottom of the hill.  He was very much alive.

          ‘How can this be?’ Edgar said, letting go of the head and standing up to face Stoops.  The head of the other Stoops dropped heavily onto a rock and rolled to one side.

          Lara slithered over to the living Stoops and threw her arms across his belly in an affectionate embrace.  Stoops grinned slyly and teased, ‘I’m touched that you care so much!’

          Unsettled by this comment, Edgar asked, ‘How much did you hear?’

          Stoops stepped forward and gazed upon the knight as if seeing him for the first time.  ‘So you were the little boy I saved that day in Pelinore!  Remarkable!’

          Lara pushed him away in an animated and not-quite-sincere show of disdain.  ‘You listened to all of that!  How could you do such a thing?’

          ‘Now, now!’ said Stoops in a placating fashion.  ‘Who could possibly resist wanting to hear the opinions of others at their own funeral?’

Edgar’s face went scarlet as he replayed every tearful comment he had made.  Lara, noting the knight’s discomfort, remonstrated with Stoops.  ‘This is not a funeral and it was cruel of you to eavesdrop the way you did.’

          Stoops placed a large hand on Edgar’s shoulder and said, ‘I’m sorry.’  He was genuine.  ‘I’m not sorry I heard what I did, but I do apologise if you felt I abused the situation.’

          Edgar nodded, keen to change the focus of the conversation.  ‘I don’t understand how this can be.  Where is the staggorn?’  He turned back to the body at his feet.  ‘Who is this?’

          Stoops squatted next to the body and pulled out his knife.  He waved the knife casually over the body, paying it no more respect than he would pay any kill.  ‘That is the staggorn!’

          Edgar squatted down too, his posture echoing that of Stoops.  ‘This?’

          The big Tuirrenian looked up at Lara who nodded in agreement.  He then looked back to Edgar.  ‘It’s Pryderi magick.  I’ve seen it before.  Ranchers and staggorn herders sometimes employ Pryderi to cast spells on the animals to dissuade poachers from hunting them.  This incantation is one of the best.’

          Lara smiled.  ‘My mother created this spell.  It’s deviously clever.  An animal under this spell will take the form of its killer when slain.  Nothing can be done to stop this transmogrification and nothing can be done to restore the beast back to its true form.’

          Edgar could not fathom why.  Stoops noted his confusion and explained the situation further.  ‘The staggorns were killed in vast numbers mainly due to their magnificent antlers.  With this spell, such a prize is unobtainable at the moment of the staggorn’s death.  Also, there are very few people who seem able to eat the flesh of an animal that looks exactly like them.’  He then turned his knife into the belly of the corpse and started cutting the flesh into long strips of meat.

          ‘Ew!’ Lara squirmed.  ‘What are you doing?’

          Stoops gave a sardonic grin.  ‘I’m not one of those people.  Who’s hungry?’

 

 

Stoops quickly sliced up the rest of the meat and wrapped it up in his cloak.  He tied this moist bundle up with some thin rope he kept looped into his belt and lashed this to the back of the snorse.  This done, they made their way – on foot and tail – back up the hill.

They moved quickly and quietly.  A light drizzle began to fall.  After ten minutes, Edgar spoke.  ‘Where were you when we came across your – the staggorn’s – body?’

          ‘I… was searching for arrows.  My arrows.  I… missed,’ Stoops said with great difficulty.

          ‘You what?’ asked Lara smirking, deliberately making him repeat himself.

          ‘I missed,’ he grunted, clearly annoyed with himself.  ‘Twice.’

          ‘But you never miss!’ Lara said incredulously.

          ‘I do now.  I must be getting old,’ he said trying to sound light-hearted but failing miserably in the attempt.

          ‘Well, you’re still the best marksman in the entire Myr,’ Edgar said protectively.  ‘But I wish I’d known that body by the creek was not you before I touched it.’  He gazed down at his blood-encrusted armour and gown.  ‘It’s going to take me days to get all this clean.’

 

 

Lara was surprised to find that Lokasenna had waited for the rest of them.  The Moraen deduced that she really had no choice.  The Ghul were at large and nightfall was closing in quickly.

          That night Edgar, Lokasenna and Stoops ate a hearty meal of roast staggorn.  Even though Lara knew the meat was not that of Stoops, she couldn’t bring herself to eat it.  Sumi objected to eating a beast that was close to extinction and Tagtug contented himself with berries he found in the brambles lining the stream where they had made their camp.

          The night passed without incident and morning came quickly bringing with it a cold and incessant drizzle.

 

 

They had been riding for six hours without a break.  The bogs of the area had slowed them down a little which drove Lokasenna to a greater degree of inflexibility.  She pushed on without any discussion with the company, her gaze forever northward.  Occasionally she stopped until the rest of the company had caught up with her then devoted her time to riding close behind any member of the party whose pace had slowed.  It seemed even the snorses were intimidated by her, as all sped up whenever she came near.

          Edgar speculated that there were only two types of leaders – those who led with a banner and those who led with a whip.    Lokasenna lashed out at anyone who asked for a break or slowed to take in the view.  When the bag containing the remaining staggorn meat fell from the back of the snorse carrying the stores, due to a poor knot tied by Tagtug, Lokasenna verbally savaged the Mabbit saying she would not endure any more delays.  Lokasenna would not hear of any suggestion to pick up the meat, so they left it there on the ground to be devoured by the insects of the fen.  Stoops looked down at the bag of meat forlornly – he had been looking forward to lunch since breakfast – but knew now was not the time to challenge the squad’s leader.

          ‘She seems possessed,’ whispered Lara over Edgar’s shoulder.  ‘Will we reach the Assipattle by nightfall?’

          He turned in the saddle to face the Moraen.  ‘The Assipattle is usually four days’ ride from Cessair, so to reach it in three... had we kept to the highway, perhaps, but I think our leader expects too much.’

          ‘I hate her,’ Lara stated plainly.

          ‘Lady, I know she is a virago at times but perhaps we should not be so quick to judge.  Who knows what she went through in the Nilfheim Mines?  She probably lost many friends.  I hazard a guess that she may even feel partly responsible – she was in charge and on duty at the time of the Kaggen’s attack.  Most of the pit crew were slain that day.  Many more have died since.  We must give her our allegiance.  The Chamberlain does not make his appointments lightly.’

          ‘Edgar, your trust in others will get you killed,’ Lara teased.

          He grinned.  ‘It hasn’t yet.  Anyway, I have you to protect me, so how can I come to harm?’

          Lara laughed loudly.  ‘Oh yes, I’ll be a great help!’ she exclaimed sarcastically.  ‘Because I am so strong and fearsome!’  Her voice softened.  ‘Honestly Edgar, I wonder what I am doing on this mission.  I have nothing to add.’

          ‘We all have a part to play.  Of that I’m sure.’  He tenderly placed a hand on her face.  It was such an overt show of affection that Lara blushed.  But she did not pull away.

          The sound of a snorse pulling up sharply broke the spell.  ‘If you two would like to get a room at the next inn, just let me know!’ Lokasenna hissed.  She did not wait for a reply, wheeling her mount around and whipping it into a run.

          Edgar’s reaction to Lara was surprising but comforting.  His mouth spread wide in mock horror.  ‘I think we’re in trouble now!’ he smirked.  He turned and spoke to the snorse and the creature burst into a fast and rhythmic pace.

 

 

And so Lara spent the next few hours in warm silence, her skin tingling.  She found herself studying every detail of her fellow rider from the safe view she had behind him.

          Edgar’s fine, crease-free, clean red cloak flapped around her and she could see the hint of stitching where he had carefully attended to small tears in the wool.  A soldier who sews was not a common sight on the battlefields of the Myr, but Edgar was no ordinary man.  He was a model of precision and detail.  Every buckle on his saddle was perfectly set; even his manner of riding was exact.

          Lara noticed the intricate designs of strange animals running around the rim of his golden helm.  It was crowned with a magnificent red plume, plucked from the tail of a yaffle and dyed with the richest inks produced on Susano.  Its splendour, however, was somewhat lost on Lara who had already spent too much time pulling its long feathers out of her mouth.  Incredibly, despite days of riding through dank surroundings, his armour still gleamed as it had when she first saw him standing proudly in the Cloud Chamber.  It didn’t stay clean by itself; Edgar displayed a highly conspicuous penchant for order and cleanliness.

          Before laying down to sleep the knight would spend fifteen minutes or more smoothing out the ground, picking up the smallest of small pebbles and throwing them away.  Lara noticed that his blanket was laid out – perfectly square and flat.  His cloak and armour were placed close by in a soldierly formation.  Even his weapons, a large broadsword and two silver daggers, were arranged symmetrically by his side before he closed his eyes to sleep.  Just for fun, Lara quietly turned one of the daggers so the pommel faced the opposite direction.  She noted with wry amusement that by the time she woke up the following morning, Edgar had returned the weapon to its original place.

          In the morning he was even more fastidious.  Fortunately he woke early so the company was not waylaid.  Edgar started his morning regimen before the sun came up and by the time they were ready to depart, every item of clothing was carefully folded and packed and anything that could be cleaned was cleaned.  He had removed all the dirt from his boots and then wiped them down with a rag he had secreted in one of his packs.  With a different rag, the knight then polished each piece of armour until he could see his reflection.  Edgar was a creature of routine, meticulously aware of detail.  

          The first morning Lara had noticed his attention to cleanliness, she thought to herself that he had some serious issues that he hadn’t resolved.  On the second day, she thought that it was just a quirk in an otherwise acceptable set of personal traits.  Now she thought his proclivity to be a perfect symbol of the goodness within.

 

 

To Lara’s left, Sumi, Stoops and Tagtug travelled as a loose group.  Sumi rode her charge effortlessly.  Lara was very impressed with her display in the Cloud Chamber when she effortlessly struck the boorish Gunther Ross on the forehead with one of her iron stars.  Her motion on the snorse was similarly fluid and graceful.  Her snorse moved as if it were not bearing a rider, running and leaping effortlessly across the fens.  Sumi was quiet for most of the trip, but never aloof.  Stoops was testimony to that.  To suggest that the two had been in conversation would imply more activity on her behalf than actually occurred.  However, she was an excellent listener and smiled whenever the conversation demanded it, which was quite often as – despite the loss of the meat – Stoops remained extremely jovial during their passage over the Scorian fens.  He laughed and talked constantly, especially around camp, and did not seem overly concerned whether anyone was interested.  He was one to make observations about a wide range of things but his observations were generally obvious and trivial.  The only time he was quiet was when he was eating and she suspected he had stayed close to Tagtug just so he could keep his stomach satisfied.

          At camp he and Edgar would enter into long conversations about politics, weaponry and countries Lara had never heard of.  Stoops was content to cook as Edgar went about his end-of-day routine of unpacking, folding and cleaning and as each attended to his duties, the dialogue between the two covered more topics than Lara thought possible.  Surprisingly, neither exhibited any awkwardness following Edgar’s revelation regarding Stoops’ impact upon his life.  If anything, Edgar seemed more relaxed around the bowman, and they interacted as equals, or brothers.

          Whilst Stoops prepared the evening meals, Tagtug would run off foraging for food more suited to his diet and Lokasenna just sat and stared into the dark, enmeshed in distant and private thoughts.

 

 

The hazy disc of the afternoon sun fell away to their left as the party climbed to the summit of a long, lonely hill crowned with a solitary emerald elm.  Lokasenna halted, giving unspoken permission to the rest of the party to do likewise.  Below them the landscape was dotted with copses of iridescent green trees.  The ground ahead looked considerably more solid and dry than that which they had covered.  To the northwest the mountains surrounding Kolpia came into view, beautiful purple peaks capped with brilliant white snow. The fen they had been travelling through fell away to the east.  As if respecting the auspicious moment, the sun sliced through the rolling clouds and beams of golden light illuminated a city far, far to the east.  Beyond it, almost on the edge of sight, a blue curved horizon could be seen.

          ‘What city is that away down there?’ Lara asked.

          ‘It is the port city of Tindalo,’ replied Edgar.

          ‘Tindalo,’ Lara repeated, testing the unfamiliar name on her tongue.

          ‘It is a welcome sight for sailors making their way down from the stormy oceans to the north, but it has a bad reputation, even among Scorians…’

          Lokasenna could sense that a history lesson was imminent and so she cut Edgar off with a question more relevant to their current situation.  ‘Sir Edgar, how far is it to the Assipattle River?’

          ‘We’ve made good speed.  We’ll make the Assipattle before day’s end.’

         ‘Good,’ she said quietly to herself.  She stopped in her tracks and dismounted.  ‘We will stop here for lunch,’ she said to no-one in particular.

          ‘Terrific!  I’m starving,’ said Stoops as he wiped away the crumbs of the loaf of bread he had just finished.

 

 

Edgar unpacked the food stores from the snorse Stoops had named Larder.  The knight meticulously rolled out a blanket and removed any bugs, grass or dirt that had the temerity to lodge there.  When the food blanket was creaseless, Edgar then placed the cutlery in a straight line in the top corner.  Alongside these he placed tankards and cups.  He filled up the top right corner with various plates and bowls, stacked precisely with the largest ones on the bottom and the smallest ones on top.  He then formed a line of condiments beneath the cutlery and next to these were placed various tubs of butter and cheese.  The last item in the secondary line was a loaf of bread.  This looked a little odd on its own, but Lara knew the empty space to the right of the loaf had been reserved for the two cobs of bread Stoops had already devoured.  In the bottom left-hand corner of the blanket, various meats were arrayed on silver plates that sparkled as if they were sitting on the table of King Pius.  Some of the meats were wonderfully succulent, especially the Kheperan shelp Stoops had basted in a rich pepper gravy.  The last item to be placed on the blanket was a bundle of pristine, white napkins.  Lara had noticed Edgar’s disappointment each time these were never used, so she took one and demonstrably placed it over her lap.  She smiled at him, hoping for a nod of approval.  When he gave the affirmation she sought, she blushed, like a smitten schoolgirl.

          Whilst Edgar set the table, Sumi collected whatever firewood she could find.  This she lit in a small hollow, just yards below the crescent of the hill.  Sumi’s talents included being able to create a fire that would not generate any smoke.  

          Stoops had been scanning the land from the top of the hill, scrutinising every surrounding tree, bush and hill.  ‘Yes!’ he exclaimed quietly, clearly buoyed by something he had spotted.   He made his way over to Larder and pulled out an incredibly large pot he had been hiding inside a slightly larger hessian bag.  He made his way over to the fire with the pot which he placed on the ground reverently.  ‘Excuse me, my lady,’ he addressed Sumi with sincere courtesy.  ‘You would do me great honour if you could collect some water for me whilst I set about finding something to place in this pot.’

          Sumi wasn’t sure whether his formal tone was satirical, but bowed graciously and said, ‘Master Bowman, it will be done.’

He watched her speed off down the hill, his eyes lingering on the shape of her waist and hips.  ‘Ah, if only I were a lifetime younger,’ he sighed to himself, not caring whether anyone could hear or not.  

          Lara’s curiousity was piqued.  ‘Stoops, what are you going to cook in that pot?’

          ‘Yaffle!’

          ‘What’s yaffle?’ asked Lokasenna.

          He put a fat finger to his mouth urging her to silence.  A shrill tuneless call could be heard nearby.  ‘That’s yaffle.’

          Edgar lifted his head.  ‘It’s coming from that tree on yonder hill.’

          Lokasenna looked over.  ‘We don’t have time for you to go hunting again.’

          He laughed and dismissed her concern with a wave of his hands.  ‘Oh I don’t need time.  Just these.’  He reached behind and unslung his quiver.  With a click of a buckle, it rolled out as a mat and Lara was surprised to see so many arrows.  Most of them were of similar lengths, but some had different arrow heads.  ‘Here we are!’ he said as he pulled out two unusual-looking arrows.

          One arrow had an odd-looking metal bulb sitting just behind the head.  Stoops turned one section of this bulb around until it clicked.  The other arrow had a small hole in the shaft just below the feathers.  To this he attached one end of a ball of twine he had taken from his pack.  ‘Tuirrenian twine!” he said proudly.  ‘Never go anywhere without it!’  He then unclasped the beautiful Tuirrenian longbow that was attached to the harness of his snorse.

          Stoops lifted the bow, paused to get a feel of the direction of the wind and then placed the first arrow on the drawstring of his mighty bow.

          In less than a second the arrow buried itself into the bole of the distant tree and the iron bulb split open releasing an ear-splitting shriek.  A dense cloud of yaffle-birds broke from the leafy boughs of the tree.  Stoops already had the second arrow in his bow and he was tracking one of the birds.  It swung towards the squad and then rose high into the sky.  In a glare of the afternoon sun streaming through a break in the clouds, Lara lost sight of the yaffle but Stoops hadn’t.  A twang sounded from his bow, followed by the whizzing noise of the twine uncoiling at Stoops’ feet, then an almost imperceptible distant thud as the arrow hit its mark.  Seconds later the bird hit the ground at Stoops’ feet.

          He gave a wry smile.  ‘They usually fly the other way.  I guess I didn’t need the twine at all!  Anyone for yaffle?”  

          The other birds returned to their nests in the tree.  Their sorrowful cries ebbed out across the hill and the first drops of rain began to fall.

 

 

The company came over the crest of a hill and beheld the Assipattle River.  It languidly wound its way around low lying hills to disappear into a grove of trees to the east.  It was a broad river that was bound by tall reeds and brambles.  To the right the old road that ran from Cessair all the way to Pelinore came into view.  Like the landscape around it, the road was empty and would remain that way so close to evening.  The Scorian wilderness was not a place most people ventured out into when dark was approaching.

          ‘We should camp here tonight, Lokasenna,’ suggested Edgar.

          The Sessymirian was scanning the area.  She shook her head.  ‘No.  I would like to get to the high ground on the far side of the river before we stop for the day.’

          ‘I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,’ remarked Edgar.  ‘The bridge is out.’  He pointed north-east and there at the base of the slope the wooden bridge that serviced the road had seemingly collapsed, its beams lying like fallen soldiers in the shallow waters of the Assipattle.

          ‘What can we do?’ asked Lara.

          ‘We cross,’ answered Lokasenna.  ‘We do not have any choice.  Edgar, correct me if I’m wrong, but the nearest bridge is twenty leagues away near Grimlock Fen.’

          All eyes turned to the knight.

          ‘Lokasenna is right, but I’m not sure that crossing the river at dusk is such a good idea.’

          ‘It’s a shallow river,’ Lokasenna said dismissively.

          ‘That’s not the issue,’ he said firmly but politely.

          ‘What’s the issue?’ Lara said, a little nervous about Edgar’s reticence.

          ‘Kelpii.’

          Lara had heard of the Kelpii.  She had been told tales of travellers who had strayed from established roads and paths only to be pulled into rivers and ponds by this most unpleasant race of water-dwellers.  They were not found outside of Scoriath, but their reputation had certainly spread as far as her village in Morae.

          ‘Well, we can’t cross then,’ Lara said decisively.

          ‘Moraen, the choice is not yours to make,’ Lokasenna said sternly.  ‘Leadership of this company lies with me.’

          Lara turned to Edgar, hoping the knight would argue the point, but he said nothing.  As much as he thought that crossing the river at that time was a poor decision, he would never refute Lokasenna’s right to make it.  She had been appointed by the Chamberlain and that chain of command had to be respected.

          ‘Very well,’ said Edgar, avoiding eye contact with Lara as he acquiesced to Lokasenna’s decision.  ‘We should not tarry here a moment longer.  Let us commence the crossing.’

 

 

Usually, the snorses would have an easy time crossing a river so shallow but something had spooked them.  They grunted and belched at each other as if they were also discussing the merit of Lokasenna’s idea.  As if in response to this insubordinate behaviour, Lokasenna smacked her snorse with the branch she had been using as a whip and the poor creature jumped awkwardly though the water until it scrambled up the slippery bank on the other side.

          Lokasenna wheeled around arrogantly on her mount and sneered at the rest of the squad still making their way across the river.  ‘See – nothing to fear!’ she called from the bank.  It was not intended as encouragement; it was meant as a rebuke.

          Lara looked down into the waters swirling around her snorse’s hooves.  The water was dark despite it being so shallow.  Suddenly she noticed ripples as if something large had passed by, just under the surface.

          She turned to Sumi and mouthed, ‘There’s something down there.’

          And then from beneath, an explosion of claws and teeth ripped apart the river.  The water became a bubbling cauldron, filled with frenzied, malevolent creatures.  Within seconds, the Assipattle was made even darker with blood.  Despite the warning Edgar had given about the Kelpii, none of the squad could have been prepared for such an attack.  The onslaught was ferocious.  From below the Kelpii tore at their snorses, scratching and biting any flesh they could sink their long claws into.  

          Edgar had leapt from Juliet and stood up to his waist in the river defending her from the hordes of Kelpii that rose from the river.  The Kelpii were as dark as the river and seemed a part of it, covered in water weeds and muck from the riverbed.  

          Edgar’s broadsword swung through the air and lopped off the heads of three Kelpii in a single swipe.  He stood in front of Juliet with a steely gaze in his eyes.  Every Kelpii that approached was quickly dispatched with his mighty sword.  The knight sliced and cut at the incensed attackers furiously and was only allowed a respite from the onslaught when he had thirty dead Kelpii floating in the water around him.  He turned to Lara who was still astride Juliet and asked whether she was alright.  The terrified Moraen nodded and Edgar smiled.

          He looked down at the blood upon his sword and grunted unhappily.  Reaching under his breastplate, Edgar withdrew a thin white cloth and proceeded to wipe the blade clean of the bloody mess that dripped from it.

          ‘Sir Edgar,’ said Lara in a timorous voice, ‘perhaps we could leave cleaning your weapon until later.’  She looked over his shoulder with dread.  ‘There’s more of them.’

          Edgar swung around and made quick work of the approaching Kelpii.

          To his left Sumi and Stoops were standing back to back as they loosed their weapons upon the attackers.  Stoops moved so quickly that it was impossible to see his hands as he fired off a succession of ten arrows in as many seconds.  Sumi almost matched his speed.  A semi-circle of dead Kelpii surrounded her, an iron throwing star embedded in each of their throats.  Tagtug took shelter between the pair, overwhelmed by the violence that had broken out in the tranquil river.

          The company had survived the first assault but their snorses had not fared so well.  With the exception of Edgar’s steed, all the snorses had been ripped apart in the initial attack.

          ‘Oh no!  Look!’ said Lara pointing in the direction of the northern bank.  The entire bank was lined with grey, skeletal figures bearing weapons of bone.  ‘The Ghul!’

          On the shallow ridge above the river several Ghul were unfurling a net.  Others were pulling back the drawstrings of their bows whilst footsoldiers made their way into the river with their white swords drawn.

          Stoops fired three arrows at once and as impossible as the feat seemed, each one hit their mark.  Three Ghul stopped in their tracks, each with an arrow buried in his heart.  And then they combusted.  The twilight air was lit up for a moment as the three Ghul broke out in brilliant flames.  Stoops fired another three arrows and achieved exactly the same result.

          ‘The big one,’ went the cry from somewhere in the line upon the bank.  ‘Concentrate on him.  He has shatterstone!’

          At the appearance of the Ghul, Sumi had drawn her sai and raced to the line of soldiers coming down the banks to engage them.  She had avoided all their strikes and had managed to land seven blows upon the nearest group.  She had felt their skin pop open as she rammed the sai into their throats and chests.  When she had stabbed the last of the group she had attacked, she looked back down the line hoping to see a collection of corpses like those of the Kelpii she had already slain.

          It was as if she had not attacked them at all.  They had not even fallen to their knees.  She glanced back at the flaming remains of the Ghul Stoops had shot…  ‘The big one.  Concentrate upon him.  He has shatterstone!’

          The realisation of her enemies’ weakness was tarnished somewhat by the fact that none of her weapons had been forged from shatterstone.  Nor had Edgar’s broadsword, by the look of it.  He had thrust his blade into the chest of a Ghul soldier who just slid off the steel and kept on walking.

          A Ghul sword entered Sumi’s peripheral vision.  She ducked and rolled to her left which not only saved her life but also put her in a position whereby her attacker was open.  She thrust one of her sai forward and pierced the Ghul’s skin at the base of his spine.  It was a killing blow, and whilst it stopped the pallid soldier in his tracks, it certainly did not kill him.

          ‘Shatterstone.  They’re vulnerable to shatterstone!’ she cried above the chaos upon the river.

          Edgar was too busy slaughtering the second wave of Kelpii to hear her.  He dropped the last of his opponents and turned to Lara.            ‘Please stay here on Juliet.  I’m going to exchange blows with the Ghul on the bank.

          She jumped off the snorse and grabbed him.  ‘Edgar, stop!  Your sword’s not made of shatterstone.’

          ‘No, good lady.  It’s wrought of the finest Tindalo steel.’

          ‘The Ghul are vulnerable to shatterstone!  That means you’re not a threat to them.  You need to keep the Kelpii at bay.  Protect me!  Let Stoops look after the Ghul.’

          Edgar wasn’t sure what she intended but he took her on trust.  He stood his ground beside her and hammered away at any Kelpii foolish enough to come close.

          Lara’s eyes spun back into her head and she became transfixed.  Her hands came together, her fingertips touching, and in the space between her palms an ember of blue fire appeared.

          A Ghul soldier holding a long bone pike noticed Lara’s vulnerability and rushed at her.  Edgar threw himself between them, swinging his sword.  The broad blade sheared the assailant’s head clean off.  His body fell where it was but the head spun away with the momentum of the attack landing with a small splash at Lara’s tail.  She continued with her incantation, the blue flames growing, her hands trembling as it contained the arcane energies.

          Tagtug was proving to be a valuable ally.  He hopped and bounced from place to place frustrating the Ghul who tried to take him down.  The more he frustrated them, the more they focussed upon him.  This distraction gave Lara the time she needed.  Her voice grew louder and the words became more defined as the ball of blue fire grew.

          But then Tagtug made a mistake.  He scampered over to Lara with the intention of picking up the Ghul’s decapitated head and throwing it back at the attackers in a gesture of defiance.  He reached down to pick up the head and then recoiled in terror.  At the base of the head, tendrils thrust out, like the legs of an arachna.  The head swam off through the dark river searching for the body from which it had been separated.  The Mabbit screamed and fell backward, bumping into Lara who fell on her backside.  The ball of fire disappeared.

 

 

Sumi and Stoops were doing their best to repel the Ghul but their numbers were too great and Stoops was running out of arrows.  Sumi had put away her sai and was wielding her short sword to great effect.  Whilst she could not kill the Ghul, she could remove their legs.  She dived across the water and sliced the Ghuls’ limbs from under them.  But she was tiring and the Ghul just kept coming, pouring over the bank and down into the river.

 

 

Edgar had slaughtered more Kelpii than could be counted and his golden armour was awash with their blood.  The remaining Kelpii retreated to the reeds, waiting like carrion for the battle to end.

          Amidst all the chaos, Lara turned to Tagtug and spoke gently.  ‘Tagtug, I can't be distracted.  Do you understand?  I can't make a single mistake or the spell must be respoken.  You must distract them.’

          Although Tagtug had never been in a battle before, he did show remarkable confidence once he knew what was expected of him.  He jumped and skittered about the Ghul, doing everything he could to pull their attention away from the witch.

          It was a crude but effective strategy and it worked.  Suddenly the entire river was lit up by a brilliant ball of blue flame that sat within Lara’s hands.  It did not burn her but the Ghul shied away from it.  As Lara passed the bodies of those Ghul whose legs Sumi had removed, their skin burst in flames unable to be doused out by the river.

          The company quickly gathered around her.  Stoops twisted his head around, scanning their bloody surroundings.  ‘Where’s Lokasenna?’

          ‘I don’t know,’ Edgar said fearfully.  ‘I lost sight of her as soon as the Kelpii attacked.’

          ‘We can’t stay here,’ said Sumi.  She looked back to the reeds.  The Kelpii stared back, waiting, searching for any sign of weakness to exploit.

          Though Lara’s orb of fire burned brightly, Edgar could tell that she was struggling.  ‘How long can you sustain it?’ he asked.

          ‘I’m not sure,’ she answered weakly.  ‘It’s a new spell.  Arinna taught it to me the night before left.  She thought it would come in handy.’

          ‘She was right,’ Edgar said warmly.  He then turned to Sumi and Stoops.  Consuls, any ideas?’

          ‘I’ll take your snorse and search for Lokasenna,’ said Sumi.  ‘As much as I’d like to, we can’t abandon her to this filth.’

Edgar nodded.  ‘Take Tagtug with you, but do not engage the Ghul.  We will take the road north.  It winds through a steep gully about two leagues further on.  We will meet you there.’

          He turned back to Lara and said, ‘You need your strength to maintain the spell.  With your permission I will carry you in my arms.’  Without waiting for her reply, he scooped her up in his thick arms and marched out of the river.  Though he was covered in blood and unable to draw his sword should they be attacked, she felt secure in his arms.  She rested her head against his breastplate and thought, ‘There are worse places I could be.’

 

 

‘I’m exhausted,’ groaned Stoops as he peered into the darkness beyond the gully’s entrance.  ‘Should I survive this night, I am going to lose some weight.’  Suddenly he lifted his bow and trained it upon a figure approaching from the south.  It was Sumi, leading Tagtug on Edgar’s snorse.

         ‘Any sign of Lokasenna?’ Edgar asked.

         ‘None.  She’s either been captured or they’ve disposed of the body.’

          ‘There is one other possibility,’ Stoops suggested.

          They were all thinking it.  She was the one.  The traitor.

          ‘We cannot condemn her as a traitor just yet,’ urged Edgar.  ‘We have no proof.’

          ‘Either way, we cannot wait for her,’ said Sumi.  ‘We must put as much distance between ourselves and the Ghul as we can.  And we’ll have to do it on foot.  Edgar, your snorse is wounded.  She cannot continue the journey.’

          The knight ran to his steed and saw a deep cut running down her left flank.  ‘Juliet, you poor thing,’ he said as he ran his hand over her side.  The snorse grunted in pain.  It wasn’t a life-threatening injury but Sumi was right – she could not continue on the mission.

          Enveloped by the blue light of her mystical flame, Lara looked over at the animal sympathetically.  ‘Even if I could stop this incantation, I could not heal her,’ he said apologetically.

          ‘Miss Brand, I would not expect you to do so even if you could,’ he said gratefully.  ‘She will find her way to fields of flowerfall and sunny days.’  

          He led the snorse off the road and whispered his good-bye.

 

 

‘Seven arrows,’ Stoops said ruefully as he inspected the remains of his quiver.  ‘Twelve if you count the ones not made out of shatterstone.’

          ‘It’s not even close to what we’ll need,’ Edgar said ominously, stroking his chin as he considered their situation.

          Stoops looked up at the steep sides of the gully.  ‘It’s a good place to make a stand here,’ he said to himself.  ‘They can only approach from the south where the road is narrow.  No chance of being outflanked.’

          Edgar shook his head.  ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t agree.  The Ghul would just use their numbers and overrun us.  We’d be better off trying to outdistance them.  If we can stay clear of them till morning, we can survive this.’

          Stoops smiled.  His little white teeth stood out against his dark skin, making his smile seem even bigger than it was.  ‘I didn’t mean all of you, Sir Edgar.  I meant me.’

          Sumi, Lara and Edgar shared the same expression of shock.  Even Tagtug seemed curious about Stoops’ statement.

          ‘You can’t keep them all back,’ Sumi said.  ‘You’ll die.’

          ‘There’s a distinct possibility of that, I know, but let’s look at the alternative.  If I walked, I’ll slow us down and if I slow us down, we’ll all die.’

          ‘There has to be another way,’ protested Edgar.

          ‘Sometimes Edgar there is only one way.’  He nodded at Lara whose face displayed the strain of maintaining the fire spell.  ‘Get her out.  Edgar, you'll have to carry her.  I’ll hold them back here for a while at least.’

          ‘I’ll stay with you.’

          ‘No.  You're better off protecting them.’

          ‘But you'll die.’

          ‘Well, that sounds better than walking all the way to Pelinore!’  He laughed but the humour was short-lived as a crossbow bolt made of bone sliced through the air between them.

          Edgar knew he had no choice.  He picked up Lara and turned to go.

          ‘Wait!’ said Stoops.  He pulled a shatterstone-tipped arrow from his quiver and dropped it in Lara’s lap.  ‘Should the light fail,’ he said, ‘I’m sure you’ll find a use for it.’  He gave her a wink.  ‘Now go!’

 

 

The Myr’s largest moon emerged from behind the thick clouds overhead and Stoops saw fifty or more Ghul edging forward out of the shadows at the mouth of the gully.  A blur of movement and one of them dropped in flame as an arrow was fired into the creature’s eye socket.  It was enough to halt the line.  The Ghul did not know how many arrows Stoops had and this worked to his advantage.  Rather than shoot all his arrows at once, he held off, hoping that fear of the death shatterstone brought would be enough to slow them down.  The Ghul hissed and snarled at him but edged back beyond the entrance of the gully where they believed themselves to be outside his reach.  Every now and then, one of them would steal closer only to be cut down in a blaze of fire.

         ‘Now I’m in trouble,’ Stoops said to himself when he had fired his sixth arrow.  When he fired his seventh arrow, it only took the Ghul a moment to realise that he had no more shatterstone to shoot.

          They poured through the gully’s entrance unsheathing their swords as they came. He fired a volley of arrows that maimed the soldiers at the front but still they kept coming.  He discarded his bow and swung his huge fists in great sweeping arcs but the Ghul swarmed over him like Tethran stonemites and he fell under the weight of their numbers.

          The Ghul continued to hew his body long after his death.

 

 

Sumi stopped and looked back into the darkness.  ‘He has fallen.’

          Edgar turned around but did not stop.  ‘He gave his life to buy us time.  We must press on.’

 

 

Lara was exhausted to the point of deliriousness.  Huddled in the knight’s arms, she had managed to maintain the incantation well beyond her normal limits.  She looked up at Edgar’s noble face.  ‘If I didn’t have a tail, would you be interested in me?’

          ‘My lady, I wouldn’t have carried you so many leagues if I weren’t interested,’ he teased back.

          She smiled.  Although she was weary, terrified and in pain, his gentle countenance gave her strength, igniting emotions that she had never experienced before.  She nuzzled her face into the crook between his arm and his chest and fell as close to sleep as she could without losing her grip upon the protective incantation.

 

 

She woke to find a fire glowing but it was not hers.  Lara sat up to find Sumi and Tagtug watching over her.  She found Edgar’s cloak draped over her as a blanket and Stoops’ arrow by her side.  It was morning.  They had survived.

         ‘Where’s Edgar?’ she asked.

          ‘Fetching water,’ answered Sumi.  ‘He stood guard over you until the sun came up.’

          ‘How long have I been asleep?’

          ‘A while.’

          ‘I’m sorry.  I was exhausted.  I just couldn’t stay awake.’

          ‘You did your best.  We survived the night.’

          ‘Stoops didn’t.’

          Sumi could say nothing.  She had enjoyed Stoops’ company and her fondness for the big Tuirrenian only multiplied when she witnessed his valour in battle.  The nobility of his sacrifice the night before made it hard to think of him.

          As sleep faded from Lara’s head and her mind sharpened itself in the light of morning, the attack at the Assipattle River replayed itself in her head.  They had been ambushed.  It was unclear whether the Kelpii were a part of that ambush, but their involvement certainly made it easier for the Ghul to press their attack.  Lara thought about Lokasenna’s obsessive desire to reach the Assipattle by nightfall.

          ‘Sumi.  Lokasenna – she betrayed us.  She –’

          ‘Is right behind you.’

          Lokasenna stepped forward and slumped to the ground beside the fire.  She had a large gash across her forehead and the blood had caked on her face hiding much of the dark birthmark that surrounded her left eye.  Her furs were shredded and the skin it revealed underneath was either bruised or bloodied.  The spike on her left arm was similarly covered in blood, but this blood had a green hue to it.  The sleeve of her left arm was stained in the same colour.  She looked as if she had battled with every Ghul that had ever spawned.

She turned to Lara with a grim expression on her face and said, ‘You were saying?’

 

 

When Edgar returned from a nearby stream, Lokasenna unfolded the story of her escape from the Ghul.  They had set upon her moments after she had crossed the river.  She pointed to the gash on her head and explained how she had been hit by a Ghul bola that had knocked her from her snorse.  The Ghul had taken her prisoner but she had escaped when one of the soldiers standing guard over her was hit by an arrow and burst into flame.

          ‘Stoops!’ exclaimed Sumi.

          ‘So he saved you too,’ said Lara sadly.

          ‘I suggest we use the daylight to put as much distance as we can between us and the Ghul,’ Edgar said.  ‘I don’t think they will give up on us just yet.’

 

 

They said very little over the course of that day.  For a while they kept to the road as it was the easiest route to take, but the need for secrecy impelled them onto paths seldom trodden, and before mid-morning they found themselves traversing a lonely moor with nothing but a cold northerly wind to keep them company.

          Edgar prepared a soup for them at lunchtime, but it seemed a poor substitute for the meals Stoops had made.  

          By late afternoon, they had travelled almost twenty leagues.  ‘We’ve made good time!’ said Edgar proudly as he looked back upon the barren wilderness they had just crossed.  He led them down a path that had brought them to the border of a scraggly swamp overgrown with brambles and blackweeds.  The northerly wind had dropped and a sombre stillness permeated the world around them.  ‘The path goes around the bog,’ he said.  ‘If we keep up this pace we should be on the other side by dusk.’  He pointed across the swamp to a distant hill where a copse of thick trees stood overlooking the desolate landscape.

          ‘You’ve been here before,’ Sumi observed.

          ‘Yes, I know the area,’ he said with a note of sadness in his voice.

 

 

As they made their way around the outskirts of the swamp, Lara became increasingly aware of the descent of the sun behind the thick clouds to the west.  The horrors of the night before played themselves out in her mind’s eye.  General images presented themselves at first – the vicious attack of the Kelpii, the relentless approach of the Ghul – but these were usurped by more horrifying pictures – the severed head of the Ghul swimming away to find its body, the mordant march of the Ghul whose limbs Sumi had removed and the sad vision of Stoops standing in the middle of the gully awaiting his death.  She was not sure she could live through another night like that.

          As they neared the end of the track running beside the swamp, Sumi pointed at the copse of trees they had spied earlier.  ‘It is a breathless day on the moor and yet the trees wave in the air as if rocked by the wind.’

          Edgar stopped at the head of the line and turned to face his companions.  ‘It is a warning – not to stray too close.’

          ‘The trees are alive?’ Lara exclaimed.

          ‘Yes, they are,’ Edgar replied sombrely.

          Sumi’s eyes widened.  ‘The Drasili?’

          ‘Yes.’

          Lara, Tagtug and Lara stared at Edgar and Sumi as if they were communicating with each other in a strange language.  ‘The Drasili?’ Lara asked curiously.

          Edgar paused before explaining himself, weighing up how to best describe the fantastical history of the Drasili.  Lokasenna looked up at the branches swaying in the grey sky and frowned.  There was something unsettling about them.

          ‘This land did not always look as it does now.  Hundreds of years ago, this area was a verdant wood where thick oakaens grew and all sorts of fauna lived in the dappled light of the ancient trees.  The story goes that the wood was also home to a powerful Morgai by the name of Guy Drasil.  Seeking a life of solitude he had left his home of Johannan in the south and travelled to Scoriath.  When he came across the wood, he realised he had found the place he had been seeking and so he made it his home.  Untroubled by the world outside, Drasil lived a happy life in the wood.  He built a house and dug a well.  He lived off the plants and roots of the forest and befriended the animals.  For hundreds of years Drasil stayed in the wood, content in his solitude, until one day, some woodsmen from Tindalo came across it.  It only took them a moment to imagine the wealth to be gained by so much quality lumber and they took to the trees with their axes.  Drasil scared the woodsmen away with some magick but they returned days later, angry and vengeful.  Whilst Drasil was sleeping, they set fire to the wood.  There was nothing the Morgai could do to stop it.’

          ‘What happened to him?’ asked Lara.

          ‘Apparently Drasil perished in the fire but not before he cursed the area.  He placed a spell upon the well he had built in the centre of the wood.  It was the only thing to survive the conflagration.’

          ‘What spell?’

          ‘Any who drink of the well are unable to leave.  They take root in the burnt soil and grow branches and leaves to replace the trees that were taken by the fire.’

          Lokasenna frowned.  This look of consternation was quickly replaced by a mocking scowl.  ‘What utter nonsense!’ she exclaimed.  ‘It’s a children’s bedtime story – nothing more.’

          Edgar’s face darkened but not in response to Lokasenna’s ridicule.  He was looking past his shoulder, back across the flat lands they had just crossed.  He could see grey shapes moving against the grey landscape about a league away.  Twisting around to the west, he could see the sun releasing its hold of the day and sinking below the horizon.  ‘We’ve got company,’ he said in a baleful voice.

          They all turned around to see the Ghul.  Though they were some distance away, their very presence was a slap to the sense of security they had enjoyed during the day.  

          ‘It didn’t take them long to find us,’ Sumi noted.

          ‘How could they follow us during the day?’ Lara said exasperated by the Ghul’s sudden appearance.

          ‘It has been a dull day,’ said Edgar.  ‘The sun has been shrouded for much of the time.  Perhaps they can travel in these conditions.  Or perhaps there is a breach nearby.’

          ‘I don’t think talking is our best defence,’ said Lokasenna, drawing her sword.  She stood in the centre of the path and raised the sword in defiance.

          ‘What are you doing?’ Lara asked.  ‘You’re not going to fight them are you?’

          ‘I have old debts I have to pay,’ she said nonchalantly.  ‘I wouldn’t be here otherwise.’

          Edgar placed a hand upon her shoulder.  ‘Lokasenna, now is not the time to make a stand.  We need to take cover.’

          Lara looked over at the Drasili.  Their branches thrashed around in the air as if disturbed by the presence of so many strangers to their land.  ‘Are you saying we should take cover in the trees?’

          ‘The Drasili will protect us.’

          ‘How can you know that?’

          ‘Trust me.’

 

 

As they ran closer to the copse, it became obvious that Edgar’s story was credible.  Figures from numerous races seemed to have merged with the trees, their torsos rising from the trunks like the figureheads on Acoran clippers.  They swivelled their heads around as Edgar led his companions under the boughs of the strange wood.  The Drasili said nothing.  They just gazed impassively at the tiny figures that had taken shelter below them.

         Not long afterwards, the Ghul emerged from the path that ran around the swamp.  They had their weapons drawn.  There was no strategy to their attack.  They simply marched up to the copse to take the Myrrans.  This proved to be a mistake.

What happened next was astounding.  The branches of the trees swept towards the ground and slashed at the Ghul, ripping them limb from limb before pounding their remains into the ground.  Some trees tossed the Ghul out into the swamp whilst others coiled their branches around the invaders, crushing them until their bodies had turned to mush.  Here and there the branches thrust down at the creatures, pinioning them to the ground before tearing them into countless pieces.

          One of the Ghul raised her bony knife and swung it hard into the branches that had come down upon her like a cage.  The white blade bit into the bark slicing it wide open.  A chilling cry of pain broke from the Drasili as gouts of blood spurted from the wound in the bark.  Roots broke through the surface of the earth and wrapped themselves around the attacker.  She thrashed about but could not break the tree’s grip.  She was imprisoned and could do nothing but dwell upon the dreadful fate that awaited her when the sun rose.

 

 

So savage was the Drasili’s attack upon the Ghul that very few escaped the trees’ wrath.  The dismemberment of the Ghul was so comprehensive that Lara did not have to worry about Ghul heads scurrying across the leafy ground as they sought out their bodies.  Not even the Ghul could piece themselves together after the Drasili were finished with them.

          ‘Perhaps we should stay here tonight,’ Edgar suggested.  It seemed like a foregone conclusion but he was sensitive to the fact that Lokasenna was the squad’s leader.  He looked over at her but she was too enthralled by the carnage the Drasili had wrought to notice him.

          Lara looked over at the knight.  ‘Should we light a fire?’

          ‘No!’ exclaimed Edgar in response.  ‘No fire.  It would be a grave insult to those who have saved us.’

 

 

Under the watchful gaze of the silent Drasili, the company lay down to sleep.  The figure of a young man was embedded in the trunk of the tree Edgar rested against.  The man looked down upon the knight and smiled.  His face was proud yet serene.  His long, dark hair flowed onto his broad shoulders which were cloaked in a blanket of moss.  Around the man’s head a garland of flowers had grown which gave the figure a regal quality.  As Edgar lay between the thick roots of the tree, it gently wrapped its lower branches around him in a tender embrace.  It was not long before the knight was asleep.

 

 

The night passed slowly for Sumi.  She had taken position on the edge of the copse in case the Ghul returned in the course of the night.  She could see the writhing shape of the Ghul female caught in the roots of a nearby tree.  From time to time, Sumi heard the sound of the coils around the Ghul tighten.  The tree was not going to let its captive go.

 

 

The following morning Sumi was awoken by an acrid smell.  The body of the captured Ghul had stopped its squirming and was now just a burnt lump among the roots.  Even through the diaphanous veil of the morning mist, the sun was enough to incinerate the vile creature.

 

 

Lara woke up and slithered over to Edgar who was sitting on a rock, stroking out some creases he had discovered in his cloak.      ‘We owe you our lives, Sir Knight.  Had you not thought so quickly, we would have perished.’

          ‘Miss Brand, it was no coincidence we were near the Drasili wood.  I have been guiding us towards it since we first left Cessair.’

          ‘Why?’

          He glanced up and smiled at the face staring down at him.  The family resemblance was unmistakable.

          ‘Your brother?’ she said delicately.

          The knight nodded slightly.  He stood up slowly and faced the tree.  He bowed slightly and the tree seemed to bend in response.  A memory floated up from the knight’s heart.

 


 

Dominic, the younger of the two boys, snuggled down in the orange pile of leaves and shot his brother an impish grin.  Edgar smiled back then snatched up handfuls of surrounding leaves and covered his younger brother’s head until he was completely obscured.

Edgar moved off contemplatively, leaving Lara to gaze upon the young man trapped in the tree.  A gust of wind blew and a large green leaf spun through the air until it landed in her outstretched hands.

 


 

Edgar moved off contemplatively, leaving Lara to gaze upon the young man trapped in the tree.  A gust of wind blew and a large green leaf spun through the air until it landed in her outstretched hands.

          ‘Thank-you Dominic,’ she said politely and turned to follow the knight.

 

 

Lara stopped and turned back towards the copse.  All the trees seemed to be watching them go.  Sumi passed by the Moraen and noticed the large leaf she was holding carefully in her hands.

          ‘Why do you keep the leaf?’ she asked.

          ‘I don’t know.  Perhaps… perhaps it’s a reminder of what I must strive for: to persevere, to endure… to remember.’  She secreted the leaf inside the folds of her robes.  For a second, as Lara’s hand slid out from the cloth covering her breast, Sumi caught a glimpse of warm light leap from deep within the cloak.  A small smile had crossed Lara’s illuminated face.  Sumi expected the witch to explain the light, but she just turned and slithered away.

 

 

‘What’s wrong?’ Sumi asked Lokasenna who was standing on a boulder overlooking a broad vale.  The swamps had given way to fields of clover.  Small rivers ran off the backs of a line of rounded hills to the west.

          ‘It’s the silence,’ the Sessymirian said slightly perplexed.  ‘It’s not normal.  We should be able to hear the river running down there.  The wind is blowing from the north but it brings no sound on it.’

          Edgar gave a gentle laugh.  ‘Scoriath is a strange place in many ways.  The silent clover is an odd but beautiful piece of flora.  Most plants harness the sun’s light for energy.  This strain of clover harnesses sound.  It feeds on it, absorbing it in the process.  You will not even hear yourself speak further down the hill.  This valley is the only place in the Myr where the silent clover grows.’

          ‘That’s remarkable,’ said Lara.  ‘Sir Knight, your homeland is indeed a wondrous place.’

          ‘Then you should return here in the spring, Miss Brand.  In spring, the clover releases all the sounds they have stored up inside them.  When the clover blooms, it releases a melody so beautiful that even the birds stop singing just to hear it.  There is no music as sweet as clover song.’

          Lokasenna scoffed.  ‘This botanical lesson is all very interesting, but if we don’t move on, the only singing we shall be hearing is a funeral dirge.’  She gestured westward where the sun had grown fat on the horizon.  ‘The Ghul will be back soon.’

          ‘Then we should prepare,’ said Lara.  She sat down on her coils and closed her eyes, preparing for the fire spell that Arinna had taught her.  As she did so, her companion stood around her and watched the sun slide away.  By the time it had set, the company was bathed in the warm blue glow of Lara’s magick.

 

 

They made their way across the saddle of the silent vale.  All sound faded from their ears.  Tagtug stopped and sniffed the air.  The party halted immediately, looking at the Mabbit anxiously. Edgar knelt down and gently frowned indicating the obvious question.  Tagtug sniffed again and nodded to him.  He had picked up the distinct scent of Ghul.

          Lokasenna peered into the darkness beyond Lara’s light. She cocked an eyebrow and her hand swung around as if to ask, ‘Where?’  Tagtug shrugged and the Sessymirian rolled her eyes dismissively.  With a flourish of her ragged fur cloak she turned and strode off into the darkness, unafraid of anything before her.

          But despite her bravado, or perhaps because of it, Tagtug did not move an inch.  He sniffed again and his face indicated confirmation of his suspicions: Ghul were very close by.  He closed his eyes to pinpoint where the fetid scent was coming from.  Confusion grew on his face and he pointed to the west, then south, east and north.  They were surrounded.  

     A Ghul soldier stepped into the light.  Although Tagtug could not hear anything on the silent slope, he could make out the words the soldier mouthed: ‘Hello Longears!  Remember me?’

 

 

It was Craddock, one of the Ghul who had pursued him across upper Camulos.  Somehow, he had survived the fall when the line broke on the Six North tower.  Tagtug had assumed he had fallen to his death and yet there he was standing there before them.  

Craddock drew a grisly knife from its sheath and stepped forward.

          A rock came hurtling out of the darkness and thudded into Lara’s temple.  At once the protective blue light of fire fell from her hands and splattered noiselessly on the clover.  Lara hit the ground a moment afterwards and rolled helplessly down into the darkening vale below.

          Craddock’s face shone with malice.  Tagtug made no disguise of the terror he was experiencing and without any attempt to explain his intentions, he bolted off into the darkness where Lokasenna had disappeared.

 

 

Sumi broke into a sprint after Lara.  She shouted the Moraen’s name but the silent clover soaked up her voice and nothing was heard.  She became acutely aware of how reliant she was upon sound.  She had been trained to use all her senses in battle and found that having one removed to be incredibly unsettling.  Her heart rate accelerated as she scanned her flanks for any sign of movement.  With no aural signs to use, she felt dangerously limited in her ability to react to the dangers that surrounded her.  

          Sumi jumped in front of Lara’s limp body to stop it from rolling further down the hill.  She cradled the witch’s body in her arms, desperately hoping that the blow had not killed her.  Lara opened her eyes slowly and groaned.  Disoriented by the silence as much as the darkness, a look of terror sprang up on her face.  Sumi did her best to reassure her, but Lara could not be calmed.

          She screamed an empty scream as two Ghul leapt out of the darkness with knives in their hands.  Cobbled by the silence, Sumi did not have time to react.

          Fortunately, Edgar had followed Sumi and with a swing of his mighty sword he decapitated both Ghul before they had a chance to land their blows.  Their heads fell to the clover at Sumi’s feet.  She quickly picked up a head in each hand and threw them down the hill.  She made sure that they would have a hard time finding their bodies.

 

Thre

e crescent moons shone their wan light upon the landscape.  Dark figures moved all about.  There were no avenues of escape.

Lara tried frantically to create another ball of fire.  A small flame appeared in her palms but it flickered and sputtered, like a candle at the end of its wick.  Lara realised she was too agitated to sustain the magick.  

          Sumi knew it too.  She quickly scrambled about in the dark searching for a small bush she had brushed against moments earlier.  Finding it, she tore off a small branch and plunged this into Lara’s blue flame before it died.  She breathed a silent sigh of relief when the branch ignited.  It was not much, but in a dark land surrounded by enemies, a little light went a long way to restore her confidence.

To their right a small group of Ghul emerged into the light of Sumi’s firebrand.  More Ghul emerged out of the darkness to their left.  Within seconds, a host of Ghul appeared, all brandishing weapons of various descriptions.  Edgar swung his broadsword in wide arcs, in a vain attempt to keep the attackers at bay but his plain steel weapon could only maim the enemy.  He needed something that would kill them.

 


 

‘Here,’ Adzoba said fondly.  ‘I can’t repay you for what you’ve done.  This is just a token of my gratitude.  A reminder of our first meeting.’  Into Edgar’s hands he placed a small phial of angelfire.  ‘Let’s hope you never have to use it!’ he added with a laugh.

 


 

The angelfire!  He still had the angelfire.  He rustled around in a pouch he wore on his belt and quickly extracted the bottle the Mayor of Marshmead had given him months ago.  He indicated to Sumi and Lara to follow in the direction Lokasenna and Tagtug had taken when he gave the signal.  They nodded, trusting the knight but not understanding him.  

          Edgar lifted the phial up high and slammed it down on the ground before them.   A wall of fire erupted engulfing many of the Ghul who ran around in a frenzy doing little more than igniting their comrades.  Lara and Sumi darted around the wall and raced off in the direction their companions had taken.

          Lara stopped and swivelled around when she noticed that Edgar had not joined them.  In the light of the wall of fire she could see him hacking his way through the Ghul hordes, stopping occasionally to pick up a severed head and throw it into the fire.  He towered over the Ghul and cut his way across them like a terrible storm.  He was magnificent but he had countless opponents.  It was only a matter of time before the battle would turn and he would fall, as bravely and as futilely as his hero, Will Stoops.

          Sumi tugged at Lara who started slithering back to Edgar.  Lara tried to tear her arm free but Sumi was not prepared to let the Moraen die out of loyalty to the knight.  She pulled her forward using her superior strength to drag the witch away from Sir Edgar Worseley’s last stand.

 

 

Lokasenna stood on a small mound before them, holding a struggling Tagtug in her hand.  The Mabbit was bleeding from various wounds and the moist spike on the Sessymirian’s arms revealed her as the traitor in their midst.  This of course came as no great surprise to Lara which made the confirmation sting all the more.  She had suspected it but done nothing.  In perverse triumph, Lokasenna raised the squirming Mabbit like a trophy.  She then rammed her spike into his ribs and dropped him to the ground.

Tagtug gave a spasm and then was still.  Lara screamed but nothing was heard.  Without thinking about what she was intending she reached into her flowing robes and pulled out the shatterstone arrow Stoops’ had given her.  She threw this to Sumi who caught it in her free hand just as a thick-set Ghul ran at her with a morningstar made of bone.  Sumi rolled under the chain and thrust upward with Stoops’ arrow.  In the burst of flame that followed, Lara could see Tagtug’s writhing eyes.  He was still alive.

          Lara coiled down to attend to the Mabbit, her hand reaching out to stop the blood pouring from his side.  Although it would not undo the damage that lay under the skin, a healing spell would stop the bleeding.  Lara did not care how vulnerable she was – she would ease Tagtug’s pain, even if it was the last thing she did.

 

 

Three large Ghul brandishing huge maces approached Edgar.  His skull was bleeding heavily and the blood pouring across his forehead was making it difficult for him to see.  He ducked under one mace and brought up his forearm to block the other.  A third mace slammed into the base of his back.  He could not hear his spine breaking underneath his armour but he knew instantly it had snapped.  Under a torrent of brutal, silent blows, he fell.

 

 

Sumi moved forward to engage Lokasenna who taunted her, her hand beckoning her to approach.  Sumi was so focused upon the arrogant Sessymirian, she failed to notice the Ghul rushing at her on her left.  It was Craddock, the boorish Ghul that had taunted Tagtug earlier.  He bore no weapon but slammed into her with his shield.

          She was winded and dropped to her knees.  The shatterstone arrow fell from her hand and disappeared in the darkness.  Craddock swung the shield back and pounded it against Sumi’s skull.

          She did not lose consciousness immediately and that saved her life.  Though she was groggy, she could make out the glowing wall of angelfire to her left.  She staggered towards it, feeling its heat intensify as she drew closer.  The silent vale swirled around her as she collapsed to the ground at the foot of the burning wall, safe from the Ghul in the glowing sanctuary of the fire.  

 

 

Lokasenna thrust out with her spike as her right hand pulled out a dagger strapped to her thigh.  Lara evaded the spike but not the dagger.  Its blade sliced across the palm of her hand, noiselessly ripping open the skin.  The witch ignored the pain and slammed her bloody hand into Lokasenna’s neck.  Again the smug superior grin spread across the Sessymirian's face.  

          She was a savage combatant, cruel and cold, but one-dimensional, her thoughts rarely going beyond that which was before her eyes.  Lara’s tail had swung behind her opponent and in an incredibly powerful blow, the Sessymirian’s legs were taken out from under her.

          Lara quickly slithered behind Lokasenna and grabbed at her left arm with both hands.  She brought the spike up to Lokasenna’s temple and pushed against the skin.

         Lara knew if she killed Lokasenna, the Ghul would be all over her in seconds.  So she held the spike against the Sessymirian’s head and waited.  Lokasenna realised what Lara was proposing.

 

 

The Ghul had surrounded the pair, waiting for their orders.  With the spike still pressed against Lokasenna’s temple, Lara shuffled forward and wound her tail around Tagtug who lay on the ground in a crumpled heap.

          After what seemed like an eternity, Lokasenna lifted her hand and gestured to the Ghul to back down.  There was a long moment when it looked as if they would not obey, but Caliban had made it clear to them that his daughter’s command over them was absolute.  They retreated into the darkness.

 

 

Lara knew that she could not hold Lokasenna for long.  The Sessymirian was strong.  She was patiently waiting for the moment when Lara’s strength faded.  It was inevitable.  

          It was shortly before morning when Lokasenna broke Lara’s grip.  She expected Lokasenna to turn on her, ram her spike into her ribs just as she had done to Tagtug.  But she didn’t.  She just smiled and walked away.  It was not an act of mercy.  Lokasenna knew that her father had plans for the Pryderi and as much as she wanted to kill the witch, her sense of duty to the father she had never met was much stronger.