Silevethiel (8 page)

«I understand. Thank you both.»

He felt the two Guardians retreat and transfer to Brégen, strengthening his connection to the lion.
«Perhaps they will be able to keep you in check.»

Brégen grunted defensively.
«It is you who needs to be kept in line, Protector. I was not the one who was caught only seconds away from kissing his patient. Heaven knows what would have happened had I not intervened.»

«We will never know, will we?»
Laegon retorted.
«But I am certain it would have been significantly less entertaining than whatever is in your imagination. I shudder to think what scenario you have conjured.»

«I have a mind to let you fend for yourself after that remark.»

«Oh come, Brégen. You would never do such a thing. Who would you have to ease your pains when Silevethiel discovers you referred to her as a ‘sly fox’?»

«Shall we get this battle underway?»
the lion asked, ignoring his Protector’s banter. Though still too far away for the elf prince to use his bow, Brégen sensed the enemy’s steady approach. His own hunger for action was heightened by Drell and Silevethiel’s voraciousness. Due to their enormous size and intense ferocity, Guardians were formidable opponents and would stop at nothing to defend Lord Brandir and the Wood Elves with their lives. No bond, however, was as strong as that with their Protectors. In a situation where any Protector’s life was in danger, the Guardians’ fortitude and tenacity increased tenfold. Though the enemy would not see Brégen, Silevethiel, or Drell in person, they would feel their wrath just the same.

«No, wait,»
Laegon interrupted, trying to suppress the lion’s growing impatience.
«Some of them are changing course. Three are heading directly for the cave entrance.»

«Irewen is safe, Laegon,»
Brégen reminded him soothingly.
«She knows she is too weak and defenseless to be of any use to you. She will remain inside the cave. Dremond’s spirit will protect her.»

The Guardian waited for Laegon to relax before continuing.
«This is actually a rather fortuitous change of events. We are now only faced with eliminating four of the intruders. And with your exceptional bow skills, you should only need to face two or three in close range combat.»

Laegon didn’t waste any time reacting to Brégen’s not so subtle hint. The intruders were just within range. He expertly nocked two arrows to his bow. Slowly he stood, ensuring he remained somewhat concealed behind the snow-covered evergreen. On the chance that the three running toward the cave entrance would come to their companion’s aid once the battle began, he wanted to make sure they were far enough away so he could bring down at least two of the remaining four before they were able to converge upon him.

Taking a few precious seconds, Laegon scrutinized the quality and placement of the invaders’ armour and analyzed the fluidity of their movements. Zurland and Drylenda had proved that although influenced by some sort of uncanny being, the enemy was still flesh and blood and quite capable of being killed. Even so, Laegon knew his abilities would be greatly tested. He wanted to eliminate the strongest and most nimble of them with his bow, leaving the clumsier foes to face his swords. Not to his surprise, none of them were particularly ungainly. Nevertheless, it didn’t take him long to single out the first man who would fall victim to his arrows.

A good foot taller than the others, Laegon’s target was the most heavily armored, yet was somehow able to move with the most ease and grace. Despite his immense bulk and towering frame, the man’s feet seemed to glide atop the snow, barely sinking beneath the thin covering of ice as he ran. Laegon knew instinctively that the man’s strength was far superior to his own. He couldn’t risk fighting him at close range, especially while facing at least two others at the same time. If that situation occurred, even the three Guardians would be of no help to him.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on the man. It was a risk to target the narrow slit of cream-colored skin exposed on the warrior’s throat, but he had no other choice. The man needed to fall as quickly as possible, preferably instantly. Shooting him in any of the few remaining areas left uncovered wouldn’t do enough damage. His armour was too thick. The arrows wouldn’t penetrate deep enough.

“El a Lün kíra mé gílanen,” Laegon whispered. Raising his bow, he smoothly pulled back the string. He felt completely at ease when his draw hand came in contact with the bottom of his cheek, almost at the corner of his mouth. The familiar soft twang of the string’s vibration reached his ears when he released the arrows. His eyes never left the man. Reaching back with his right hand, he expertly pulled two more arrows from his quiver. He had already nocked them on the string when the first two arrows found their mark.

The man collapsed in the snow, two dark brown fletchings protruding from his neck. Laegon raised his bow once again, already focused on his next victim.
«One down.»
He spoke for Brégen as much as himself.
«Let us hope our luck holds.»

IREWEN HUDDLED WITH HER BACK AGAINST THE FAR wall of the cave. It was the first time she’d ventured from the modest camp Laegon had constructed near the entrance. Expecting the height and width of the cave to remain constant, she’d been surprised to find them expand the deeper she went. To her amazement, the cavern had almost tripled in size by the time she’d reached the back wall.

Unfortunately, the light from the fire didn’t penetrate this deep. Subsequently, neither did its warmth. Crouching in the shadows, she pulled her knees closer to her chest and wrapped Laegon’s cloak tightly around herself. It was no use. The thick wool did nothing to alleviate her discomfort.

Squinting in the darkness, she turned her attention away from the cold and concentrated on the enemy. Like the dark clouds gathering before a storm, she could sense the men approaching. She didn’t see how merely remaining within the cave would keep her safe, but she’d promised Laegon she would do just that. It was a promise she intended to keep. The relief in the elf prince’s deep brown eyes and the memory of his lips brushing against her cheek were all she needed to keep her back plastered against the cold rock wall and her bottom securely rooted on the ground.

Abruptly, her surroundings changed. The already freezing temperature dropped further, leaving an unearthly chill clinging to the air. The unmistakable scent of roses filled the cave. A faint sound of rushing water emanated from within the thick rock behind her.

This cannot be happening.
Irewen closed her eyes, willing everything to go back to the way it’d been only moments before.
It must be in my imagination.

Eventually working up the courage to open her eyes, she gasped in terror at the sight of an apparition of a young elf hovering silently before her. The shade stared at her, his green eyes calm and soothing.

“Do not be afraid, Irewen,” it said. “Within this cave, you are safe. I will not harm you.”

“Who are you?” Despite his nonthreatening character, her voice quivered with fear.

“I am known as Dremond. I protect the weak and defenseless who take refuge in this cave. I was surprised when you were brought here. It has been many years since someone has sought sanctuary in my domain. There are not many who even remember I exist.”

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Time is of no use to me. I have lost the ability to count the years.”

“What happened, Dremond?” she asked softly, her heart overflowing with compassion and sadness for the shade.

“I was a boy, only seven, when I received permission from my parents to accompany my older brother, Delion, on a hunt. Though I was young, I proved to be a much better shot than Delion. By the time I had killed my fourth hare, my brother remained empty-handed. Jealousy consumed his heart. He shot me in the back while my attention was diverted. Much to his chagrin, I did not die instantaneously, though with his terrible aim, it should not have come as a surprise to him.

“Claiming it was an accident, he brought me to this cave. He removed the arrow and dressed the wound as best he could before leaving under the pretense of fetching some help. As soon as he left, I knew he would never return. Fever ravaged my body. I became delirious. The minutes slowly ticked into hours and the hours into days. I lost all sense of time. When death finally took me, I refused to leave this world.

“Delion betrayed me. He turned his back on the brother he had sworn to protect. Choosing to succeed where he had failed, I vowed to shelter any defenseless creatures that enter my tomb. Here I have been ever since. Here will I be until the end of the world. This is the path I have chosen.”

Irewen placed her hand over her heart. “I am sorry, Dremond. The elves are well known for their virtuousness. I would expect a human to commit murder over something so trivial, but not an elf.”

“There are disreputable people in every race, Irewen. It is true that the elves are generally more ethical than humans, but we are not exempt from despicable behavior. We have never claimed to be.”

Dremond paused, studying the princess intently. “Do you know what hunts you, Irewen?”

“Aye,” she answered, rather taken aback by the question. “They are men of my cousin, Elthad. Now King of Dargon.”

“They were once men. But no longer. They are the Drulaack, men who have been united with the spirits of evil kings and warriors of old. While their physical bodies can be killed, the spirits can never be destroyed. Like an insect, moving from leaf to leaf after eating its fill, the spirit simply enters the body of another person it deems fit to serve as its host. Many times it is the body of a male warrior, strong and muscular. But not always. There are women, as well as children, who have become Drulaack. For in order for their leader to fulfill his purpose, he must infiltrate people of every walk of life.”

“How can this be?” Irewen gasped. “How is it that neither my father nor I were aware of their existence?”

“Because your cousin Elthad was the first of them.”

“What!” Her voice came out in a high-pitched shriek. Her first instinct was to deny the shade’s accusation, though she couldn’t fathom why. She had absolutely no reason to come to Elthad’s defense. He’d destroyed any sense of loyalty she had towards him. Not even a thin shred of trust remained.

The more she thought of it, however, the more she came to realize Dremond’s words were true. Even now, she could sense the evil lurking in the depths of Elthad’s soul. The memory of their last meeting flashed through her mind. She was surprised, and rather ashamed, that she’d relied upon him for her safety. How could she not have seen? Was she really so blinded by her grief that she’d lost all sense of reason?

She shuddered to think how long Elthad had been plotting against her and her father. How many years had he spent calculating and preparing for their murders? Had he used his absence to protect the southern regions of Dargon as an excuse to further his cause? More importantly, was the supposed threat from Thaurod even real? Had Elthad simply needed a reason to roam the lands and amass supporters?

Cold chills ran down Irewen’s back.

How far was Elthad’s reach? How many men and women had secretly joined his cause? How many of Dargon’s citizens lived their daily lives like Trapper Spiders, lurking in the shadows of their homes, ready to jump from beneath the brush and pounce upon their victims the moment their backs were turned?

“How?” Irewen whispered, not sure she really wanted to know the answer. “When?”

“I cannot say how or when it happened, simply that it did. You must discover the answers to these questions on your own, for doing so will guide you towards fulfilling your destiny.”

“I do not understand.”

“Follow your heart, Irewen, and you will. I will protect you this day, but once the battle is over, you and the elf prince must leave. You are no longer safe here. The Drulaack will return. The next time they do, I will not be able to come to your aid.”

“But where shall I go?” she asked, the intense anxiety and distress evident in her voice.

“Seek the blood of the four races. There you will find your way. Farewell, Princess Irewen Donríel. We will not meet again.”

Dremond vanished before Irewen could respond. Once again, she was left on her own and very much afraid. She pulled Laegon’s cloak even tighter around her body, wishing instead that he was holding her close.

Gradually, her surroundings returned to normal. The strong floral scent dissipated, replaced by the crisp, dry scent of the cave. The nearly incomprehensible cold vanished, leaving the cavern’s familiar wintry air. Save for the hypnotic sound of rushing water, all signs of the elf shade’s visit had disappeared.

Dremond had said he would protect her this day. She believed him, but she was terrified to think of where she would go once the battle was won. The young elf had implied she and Laegon needed to leave immediately. As of yet, the journey into the depths of the cave was the first time she’d walked in five days. Needless to say, it’d been shaky at best. There was no way she’d have the strength to move at any decent pace.

For whatever reason, Laegon had refused to leave her in order to hunt for food. Although he’d tried to disguise it from her, she knew their provisions were almost exhausted. Now, they couldn’t wait for the rider sent by Lord Brandir to refresh their supply. They had no horse and no means of acquiring one. Not that it would make the slightest bit of difference. With this much snow on the ground, even a fool would be able to track their progress. At the slow pace she knew they’d have to take, they had no hope of outrunning the enemy.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine a scenario in which they would succeed.
Perhaps it would best if I simply remained here. If I am going to die, I would rather it be by the warmth of a fire than in the harsh coldness of snow and ice.

Shaking her head, she immediately rejected the idea. Laegon had already made it quite clear he wasn’t about to leave her. Dremond’s news wouldn’t do much to change his opinion. If she stayed, so would he. She couldn’t ask him to sit idly by and wait for death to take them.

Of course, this all depended on Laegon surviving the pending altercation. She started at the realization that she’d never given serious thought to the possibility he would die. Dremond seemed to think the prince would live, but how could he be certain?

Irewen’s eyes began to water at the prospect that she’d never see Laegon again. What would she do if such a scenario proved true? Almost immediately, she had an answer. No matter the outcome of the battle, she’d do everything in her power to make her way to Silverden. After all Laegon had done for her, she owed him that much at the very least.

The sound of angry screams abruptly wrenched her from her musings. She stiffened, realizing the battle had begun. Holding her breath, she strained to hear the commotion above the sound of the water which had drastically increased in volume. Curiosity took hold. Keeping close to the ground, she crept forward in hopes of gaining a better view of the entrance. She’d covered about half the distance of the cavern when she noticed three Drulaack standing just outside the mouth of the cave.

Their eyes locked on her and wicked smiles spread across their lips. Evil seeped from their bodies like the venom of a snake, slowly poisoning everything in its wake. One of the men unsheathed his sword with deliberate slowness, and the unmistakable ringing of metal resounded through the air.

She was alone, weak, and defenseless. They knew it.

One Drulaack took a step forward. A scream caught in Irewen’s throat. She shrank back into the shadows, praying that Dremond’s shade would hold true to his word. The enemy’s next step brought him just inside the mouth of the cave. Irewen’s heart jumped when a violent stream of water fell from the ceiling. The man struggled to break free, but the extreme force of the waterfall kept him pinned beneath its merciless onslaught.

Irewen desperately wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t. Her eyes remained glued to the horrendous sight. The Drulaack finally fell still, and the waterfall disappeared as quickly as it had come.

The dead man’s two companions stared at his body, their expressions a mass of confusion and disbelief. For a moment, Irewen thought they might retreat, but her feeble hopes were dashed. The Drulaack returned their attention to her, looks of unmitigated hatred plastered on their faces.

Apparently deciding that caution hadn’t served their partner, they ran inside the cave. Roaring furiously, they drew their swords. They only made it a few steps inside the entrance. Water instantly shot up from the floor like a geyser and burst forth from the walls and ceiling. Both Drulaack stopped dead in their tracks, watching Irewen incredulously as the water passed harmlessly through her body. Admittedly, until the water reached the men and their eyes widened in fear, she herself had believed, for one terrifying moment, that Dremond had failed.

The men turned to run, but it was too late. The cave quickly filled with water, trapping them inside. They struggled helplessly against the strong current. Thrashing desperately to keep their heads above the surface, they tried to swim towards the entrance. The waters swirled violently, snaring the Drulaack in the whirlpool.

The water churned harmlessly around Irewen where she huddled against a wall. She watched the enemy’s hopeless battle against death as they were thrown about the cave like rag dolls. Without warning, the water vanished. The lifeless bodies crashed to the floor with a revolting thud.

The ensuing silence was more deafening than the rushing of the whirlpool. Sitting motionlessly, Irewen waited for the sound of Laegon’s footsteps.

Laegon’s aim was just as true on his second shot as it was on the first. He watched with both satisfaction and relief when the force of the blow careened his victim backwards, sending him plunging heavily into the snow.

«And another.»

«Well done, Protector.»

Screaming with rage, the remaining two men ran towards Laegon in a fury. Casting his bow aside, he expertly drew the two short swords strapped to his back.

«This is where I will need your help, Brégen. My accuracy with the bow has left them in a frenzy. These two are the weakest of the four but will still easily overpower me. They expect me to fall quickly and will not hold back. Their armour is heavy, and their weapons are larger and more cumbersome than mine. I need lightness and agility.»

The lion’s reply was swift.
«Of course, my friend. What is your strategy?»

«Whatever possesses these men,»
Laegon noted,
«they are still at least partly human. Though their armour and weapons would serve them well in a quick fight, the same will not hold true for a battle that lingers. Laden down by the weight of their gear, they will tire more quickly than I. I intend to let time become their downfall.»
His lips spread into a sly smile.
«I will be the fly they cannot catch.»

«Your crafty mind has warmed my heart, my cunning prince,»
beamed Brégen.
«Do not worry. We will keep you as light as a feather and as quick as a mouse laughing at you as it skitters away from a trap with a mouth full of cheese.»