Origin (6 page)

The woman, totally absorbed in her work, didn’t look up but gave a quick nod of her head to dismiss him. With that, Ayron stood up and turned around. Before he could take a step, he found himself face to face with a young elf…an elf with curly reddish gold hair. Impossibly, this elf also had large eyes of deep violet, even deeper than his.

“Move,” cried the young elf in a panicky voice as she tried pushing past him. “That’s my uncle lying there,” she cried, still struggling to move past him. “Get out of my way.”

For the second time that day, Ayron was rendered speechless. His mind was spinning. None of this made sense. He fought to find his peace by centering his thoughts, as he had been taught as a young soldier. He would be no help to anyone in his current state of mind. As calm began to wash over him and some clarity returned, he was struck by a revelation. Rhys hadn’t recognized him and assumed that he was Azavon. Could this child be his niece? This whole situation just wasn’t possible. He looked again at the young girl. He just couldn’t make the pieces fit, and right now he had no time to figure it out. Ayron acted instinctively and reached out to take the girl by the arm. Whoever she was, she was obviously in grave danger with Crawley’s men searching for her, and he had given his word to Rhys that he would protect her.

The young girl squirmed and kicked, trying to break free from his grasp. Ayron couldn’t believe how incredibly strong she was. He half-carried, half-dragged her over to Gerrack. By this time she had added sobbing uncontrollably to squirming and kicking.

“Let me go,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “My uncle needs me.”

Ayron felt awful, sensing the pain in her voice, but he steeled himself against giving into her pleas. He’d given Rhys his word that he would keep her safe and he was going to do it his way, until he knew more about the situation. He threw her up onto Gerrack’s saddle, and quickly mounted himself, before she could jump down. He held her tightly and rode as fast as he could toward a stand of trees he remembered passing on the way into the village. The young girl had given up pleading to be set free and was now just sobbing uncontrollably. Ayron signaled Keroc to project his destination to Thane, with orders that they should both join him there. As soon as he arrived, he pulled the young girl down from Gerrack’s back. Immediately she struggled against him trying to break free. And then she started to yell for help. He leaned her back against a gnarled old tree trunk, and covered her mouth with his gloved hand.

“I know you are frightened and upset. I’m not going to hurt you.” Ayron said in a harsh whisper. “I’m an old friend of your uncle. Please stop yelling and listen to me for just a moment. Your uncle has been seriously wounded by the leader of a group of assassins. The man is dead, but his men are also looking for you. My soldiers have killed most of them, but there are still a few roaming around either trying to escape or find you. We are hunting them now. I left five of my best soldiers back at the village square to guard your uncle. I also left my healer, Galdor, to help treat his wound. Your uncle realizes that your life is in danger and refused to allow anyone to treat him until I brought you to safety. Please don’t dishonor his wishes and force me to break my word by trying to run away.”

“Liar! Why would anyone want to hurt my uncle? Everyone who knows him loves him. And why would anyone want to hurt me? I have no enemies. Those men I saw aren’t even from our village.”

“ I don’t have answers for you right now,” Ayron said shaking his head. “Your uncle seems to be the only one who might know what is going on. If you will give me your word that you will wait here for a short time, I promise you that I will get him to safety, and bring back the healer that was with him. The woman said her name was Clayre, and perhaps she can explain more about what is going on to both of us. Even though I haven’t seen your uncle in many seasons, he still looks pretty tough. I know he is a fighter, so don’t sell him short now. Just promise me you will wait here with Thane. He is one of my officers and will protect you with his life.”

The young girl looked into his eyes, and sensing truth in his words, nodded her head and said “Yes,” even while fighting an almost uncontrollable urge to run back toward the village square to her uncle. She was terrified. For the first time in her life, she realized that there was a chance she would end up alone in the world. This morning she’d felt ready for any challenge life could throw at her and now she felt overwhelmed and ready for nothing.

“I’m leaving my drakenhawk Keroc with you to protect you as well. He will signal me in the event of danger and will protect you with his life.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go with you to see my uncle? I need to see that he is alright,” she said, tears of sorrow running down her face.

“I’m sorry, but you are much safer here. I will be back as quickly as I can.”

Ayron jumped up on Gerrack. Before he urged the big war horse forward, he took one last look down at the sobbing girl. “What is your name?”

“Elwyn..., my name is Elwyn.”

With his head reeling, Ayron urged his horse into a gallop and raced back toward the village square. The past hour seemed like a strange nightmare. His head began to hurt as he considered what he knew. A man he thought long dead reappears and is raising a young female elf. Her hair is an exact match to Rhianna’s, his brother’s dead wife. Her eyes are violet, a trait never before seen outside the royal bloodline of Silvendil. Her eyes were even darker violet than his; more like his grandmother Lady Silvenna’s. This young elf was also named for his father. But Rhianna had no elven blood in her, which made it improbable if not impossible that the child was hers. Ayron knew that any child produced by Rhianna and Azavon should have appeared human, with only a few outward signs of an elven heritage. So who was this child, and how did she come to be?

On the other hand, if he looked beyond the inconsistencies in Elwyn’s appearance and considered the possibility that Rhianna hadn’t died, it raised another whole list of issues. Why did she run away from Findara and his brother? What caused her to feel desperate enough to undertake such a long and arduous trip so late in her pregnancy? Was there anyone actually buried in the grave in Findara so lovingly tended by his brother these last sixteen seasons? If there was someone buried in the grave, who was it and how had he or she died? If Rhianna had truly run away to her brother Rhys and given birth to Elwyn here in Tarlon, there would have had to have been a conspiracy involving more than one person in the court at Findara. So, who were the traitors and were they still serving as his brother’s trusted advisors?

Ayron made up his mind right then and there that he was not leaving this place until he learned everything that Rhys knew about the past. He realized that his old friend probably held the only clues to sorting out this mystery. It was critical that he be kept alive, both for the sake of their former friendship, and the mystery that threatened to rock the land of Silvendil with its answers. As he and Gerrack drew close to the village square, his military training kicked in and he turned his mind away from what he didn’t know, and focused on creating a plan to get both Rhys and Elwyn to safety.

E
lwyn, still numb with shock, sagged against an old gnarled tree trunk as she watched the tall stranger ride off on his big black stallion and head back towards the village square. Although she wanted nothing more than to run after him, she’d given her word and was determined to try to keep it. Every nerve in her body was screaming. Her mind raced in confusion and disbelief. The events of the past hour were beginning to catch up with her. The events she’d witnessed were way too farfetched for her to comprehend, and even more difficult to believe. Grief mingled with confusion and fear as she prayed that her uncle still lived. Clayre was the most talented healer she’d ever seen, but her uncle’s wound looked very grave and Elwyn was afraid that it might possibly be beyond even Clayre’s skills.

She could hear, but not see the commotion and confusion that still gripped the small village. At the stranger’s suggestion, the men from her village tied colored scarves around their necks so that they wouldn’t be mistaken for the enemy. Several of these men were running and shouting as they attempted to aid the soldiers in hunting down any remaining attackers. She could also hear the softer sounds of several women as they tried to sooth and comfort crying children. Her village was a peaceful place and the violent events of the past hour had shaken everyone to the core. Her mind was brimming with questions that had no answers. Seeing her uncle lying there so still on the ground, brought home to her just how alone she would be if he died. Her uncle was the only family she had and Elwyn knew he’d made many sacrifices over the past sixteen seasons to keep her safe and secure. She was pretty certain he’d made himself stay in this village full of sorrowful memories because he felt it was the best place to raise her. Rhys had always put her welfare before his own.

Elwyn couldn’t begin to imagine what she would do if something happened to him and she was left all alone in the world. The possibility of that happening was enough to double her over in fear and pain. She wouldn’t be able to live with Clayre. Choosing to do that would more than likely obligate her, at least in the eyes of Ston the village elder, to become the next healer. If she tried to stay in her uncle’s house and run the blacksmith shop, Ston would attempt to force her to marry one of the young men or widowers in the village. From Elwyn’s perspective, that option was even worse than being forced to become the village healer.

Her biggest problem was that she had no idea what she did want to do. Sometimes she was feeling stifled and wanted to be out in the world and away from her uncle and Tarlon. Now, she just wanted things to stay as they had been before the attack. Elwyn realized that she just wasn’t ready to make a decision about her future and hoped, with everything in her, that the events of this day wouldn’t force her to. All of this was just too much for her to think about right now. Her head hurt as she tried to process the events of the past hour and the questions and uncertainties that they raised about her life, her family, and her future.

While trying to focus on something other than her uncle and the events of the past hour, her mind drifted to the tall, dark stranger that appeared with his soldiers out of nowhere and seemed to have taken over the village, as well as the welfare of her family. The stranger was the tallest man Elwyn had ever seen. Actually, she couldn’t think of even one man in her village that was as tall as the shortest of the soldiers she’d seen so far. He was dressed in black leather woodland garb and wore a long hooded cloak of forest green. When she first laid eyes on him, his hood was down and she could see that he was clean shaven and had jet black hair that traveled part way down his back, unlike most of the men in her village. His eyes were violet, though not quite as dark as hers, and his skin, like hers, was as pale as moonlight. Elwyn wondered if violet eyes and pale skin were common traits where he came from. The soldiers that accompanied him seemed to have a much greater range of physical features than the men of Tarlon. Some of his soldiers had features similar to hers and some were more like her uncle.

Elwyn eventually grew tired of leaning against the tall tree trunk, and moved over to sit on a rotting stump a few feet away. The minutes seemed like hours as she waited for the stranger to return, wondering all the time what was happening to her uncle. The impatience she so often had to fight when she was out hunting was fast overtaking her. She began trying to figure a way to sneak past her guard. The biggest problem in doing that was the strange bird like creature sitting up in the tree. The creature stared at her as if it knew exactly what she was thinking and planning. The feeling definitely made her uncomfortable. She blinked suddenly as she got an image in her mind of the tall stranger. It caused her to feel momentarily light-headed. It almost felt as if someone else was in her head. Thane calling her name brought her quickly back to reality. He came over to let her know that his commander would be a bit longer than expected, because he was speaking to her uncle and Clayre. Thane added that their discussion was going slowly because of her uncle’s weakened condition. Somehow, she realized as Thane was speaking, that she was already aware of the information he was relaying, but she had no idea why or how. She was really not in the mood to discover something else weird about herself today, so she just let it go.

While she was frustrated at having to wait longer, Elwyn was also happy to hear that her uncle was at least well enough to speak. Since she was going to have to continue to wait, she decided to take advantage of the time by finding out all she could from Thane; specifically about his commander, and how these men came to be in her village today. She’d learned over the seasons to always trust her instincts. Something inside her always seemed to accurately sense impending danger; whether to herself, or to another member of the group she was in. She was still feeling a thread of danger rippling through her, and wanted to assure herself that its source wasn’t the stranger, or his troops.

Thane, while appearing to be older than she was, still looked pretty young to her. She walked over to where he stood patting his large dark bay war stallion.

“Sorry that you got stuck babysitting me. It’s not necessary you know.”

“Keroc and I have been ordered to protect you, miss.”

“Are you soldiers from Port Galba or Port Strabo, Thane?

“Neither, we live a long way from here and are not from Unity at all. We are soldiers from Silvendil, a land to the north. Our commander Ayron is in charge of all military operations in our nation.” Thane felt a bit relieved that his charge seemed to be warming up to him and didn’t look ready to bolt.

Ayron, that is definitely not a name often heard in these parts.”

As Elwyn spoke, the hair on her arms stood on end. She looked past Thane who was talking and caught a slight movement in some of the low brush a short distance behind where he was standing. Before she could open her mouth to warn Thane, Keroc swooped down from the tree behind her and flew over their heads in the direction she’d noticed the movement. Thane, looking startled, turned pulling out his short sword and ran after the drakenhawk. Before she could follow, she felt herself grabbed from behind. A dirty hand was clasped over her mouth and she was dragged roughly backward.