Chapter Text
Miri had sensed its approach too.
“Jaquin,” she said, placing her bowl on the ground again. “Give Bayle his sword.” Then she stood, and peered around, looking for the threat.
The boy readily complied. I took the weapon by the hilt. It felt good to have it in my hand again. Then I placed my will upon it and the brand twisted about to become a sabre, my current blade of choice.
“Interesting sword,” Miri observed.
“It is forged from the blood of green dragons,” I told her.
“Green? Not gold?”
“Most assuredly, green. They dwell near the ancient tree that marks the boundary between madness and sanity.”
“Do you visit the lands of madness often?”
“As frequently as I have the courage. The food is sublime.”
“You’ll have to take me some time.”
“Both you and your husband.”
Around the lake, I glimpsed shadowy forms gathering. They deepened the gloom beneath the trunks.
Miri too seemed to seen them, because she asked, “What is this thing that we’re about to face?”
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. But it killed my horse and hunted me through places that few have the capacity to journey.”
“So you did have a horse?” she asked with a faint, accusing smile. She drew her own sword, perhaps to emphasise her mock rage.
The weapon surprised me. The golden-bladed weapon looked to be of an ancient design, with almost no cross-guard. Anachronistic, given her armour.
“It was a wedding present from my husband,” Miri said, defensively, as she saw me eyeing the sword. “A family heirloom.”
“I bet it has saved you many times,” I commented.
“And it will again.”
I nodded, welcoming her bravado.
“Stand by the fire.” Miri addressed Jaquin, but it sounded like good advice to me.
I stood with my back to the flames, leaving myself just enough room to move and fight. I sensed, rather than saw, Miri doing the same on the opposite side.
The Mist was approaching from everywhere. I saw it rolling towards us, like a great shadowy wave consuming all before it.
I heard a noise from behind. Glancing, I saw Jaquin adding both tinder and kindling to the fire. The fire blazed and he quickly added two branches.
My attention snapped back, just in time to see the great fallen tree being devoured. The lake itself soon followed. The three of us stood like an island of light surrounded by an ocean of darkness as a great torrent closed in. My sword was useless, I knew. It was like standing on the shore trying to defend against a tidal wave. Yet it felt good to have in my grasp all the same.
When it hit, The Mist hit hard. I reeled as it washed over me. A darkness, deep and awful descended. The stars above were gone. I couldn’t even see the shadow of my nose. The crackling fire seemed muffled and far away. This was more than just a dimming of light and sound, but a blackening of the soul.
The gloom chilled me, not just with cold but something altogether unworldly. Like a cloud of melancholy. A sense of dread crept into my heart, its dark malevolence seeking to extinguish all memory of joy. I was forsaken. Isolated and alone within its depths. Only when I concentrated, could I even hear the thumping of my own heart.
Then The Whispering began: suspiring, deadened. A hiss, slow and grave. Another. Just behind me. I could almost feel the cold breath upon my neck.
I spun around, my sword snapping ready. Yet there was nothing, not even Miri, Jaquin or the fire. Only the oppressive bleakness.
Seeking an opponent I stretched forward, my sword reaching out. Instead, I stumbled. Overbalanced. I landed in amongst a clump of reeds, my foot sinking deep into mud. Somehow I had wandered towards the lake. I had almost fallen forward into the water. That might have been disastrous.
I could have ended up like poor Ryany. He had toppled overboard one night after a particularly good party on the ship. We never ever did find him. Admittedly we didn’t notice his absence until the following afternoon.
I dropped, rolling backwards. I felt the mud reluctantly release my boot.
Carefully I stood, and edged away from the lake. But then The Whispering returned. I twisted and turned, in an effort to locate and strike, and in turn lost any sense of direction. Like a fish dangling on a hook I was being played.
I stopped, listened, as the sibilant sounds invited my attention. There were words hidden amongst the noise. They confirmed all my suspicions.
“AMMMMMBERRRRRRRR… must-t-t-t-t…. dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Then in the distance, I saw a flash of gold. Like an annealed brand, still cooling after being removed from the fire. It blurred, slashing this way and that, and it took me a moment to realise what it truly represented: hope. Heedless, I ran towards it.
Miri appeared bathed in the golden radiance from the sword. Yet she was hard put to it. Amid the mire that surrounded us, I could barely make out her opponents. There were three of them and to me they looked to be large and ogrish, but made from the same stuff as The Mist.
Miri slashed with her blade, keeping them at bay, but the ogres moved to outflank her. It was only a matter of time before she was overcome. There was no way I could reach her.
Then she darted forward unexpectedly. Her blade plunging into the shoulder of one of the ogres. As it struck the sword’s tip blazed, as intense as the sun at high noon. I had to look away. When I looked back, there were only two ogres remaining.
I reduced that number by another, as I swept in, my sabre slicing through the middle of one of them. Whatever force that held the creature together evaporated and the ogre dissipated, to join the rest of The Mist.
“I thought you had left us,” Miri said joining me. Whether she had dispatched the remaining ogre or it had run away, I didn’t know.
“I was called away for a moment,” I told her. “That’s quite a sword you have.”
“My husband loves me deeply.”
Before I could offer a pithy reply in turn, I heard Jaquin cry out. In the gloom, I couldn’t see him nor the fire.
Miri clearly could, because she darted away. I followed her, but we only dashed a handful of strides before the flames, and then Jaquin appeared. To my eye both lacked any firm definition, appearing phantasmal and without pigment.
In fact, Jaquin’s opponents looked far more real.
A pair of dark hounds beset the boy. Jaquin danced about with a flaming branch in each hand, attempting to ward them off.
Miri leapt in between her squire and one of the dogs. There was a brilliant flash as she impaled it, but this time I was ready. Opening my eyes, I moved to take care of the second animal, but Jaquin beat me to it. He used one of the branches to parry its bite, while he slammed the second branch down upon its skull. The dog flared as it caught alight and fled yelping into the darkness.
“Do you trust me?” I asked Miri as I sheathed my blade.
“Of course not,” she answered, her face screwing up with a look of derision.
“More creatures are coming. We can’t hope to withstand them all,” I told her. “But there is a way we might still survive.”
“How?”
“By passing through the fire.”
“Passing through the fire?” she asked, incredulously.
To be honest, I didn’t blame her. I had the same reaction the first time.
“Won’t we get burnt?” Jaquin asked.
“Not necessarily,” I answered.
“You are just filling me with confidence,” Miri sneered. “Why didn’t you bring this up before?”
“Would you have considered it before?”
“No,” she spat.
I could sense The Mist readying another assault. I held out my hands to them. “It is now or never,” I told them.
“And if we refuse, will you leave us anyway?”
Our eyes met, the look lingering. I shook my head. “No.”
Miri sheathed her blade and took my left hand. Following her lead, Jaquin cast away his flaming brands and grasped my right hand. He still had an almost two-dimensional quality about him, and the mark of doom was more evident than before.
“Stand around the fire. Link hands,” I instructed them. “When I say, step into the fire.”
“And then what?” Miri asked.
“If it works, we escape.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will work,” I said, offering Miri a reassuring grin.
She wasn’t reassured. However, she stood close to the fire and took Jaquin’s hand.
I could sense the great mass of shadowy creatures hurtling towards us. Yet I dared not even so much as glance towards them. I needed all my concentration. I had only succeeded with this trick once before, and that had been in a far less stressful situation. Each of my failures, had brought no end of mirth to my father and uncle however.
“Now,” I said, and three things happened in quick succession:
- All three of us stepped into the fire as I crafted the changes I sought.
- Both Miri and Jaquin expressed fear (and perhaps horror) as they reacted to something behind me.
- I was hit very hard in the head.
As before, I knew nothing more for a time.
I woke to a throbbing headache. It must have been a very good party. However, I couldn’t reconcile why there was so much birdsong.
“He’s awake,” a voice cried.
Then I heard the sound of a heavy horse approaching.
I risked a glimpse but was rewarded only by golden sunlight and pain.
“The horse is yours,” another voice said.
I ventured another look and found myself gazing straight into the mouth of a roan stallion.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“I’ve left her tied up. Her name is Flower. Glorious Flower.”
Then I noticed the speaker mounted atop the stallion. She was attired in her armour, with a golden helmet, and wearing a white tabard adorned with a golden dragon, rampant.
“Mount up,” she said, and I thought she was talking to me.
Then I noticed the boy. He sat on his haunches looking down at me, wearing a giant grin.
“Jaquin,” she prompted. “I want to be in Rayfeld by tomorrow.”
The boy stood and quickly mounted the other chestnut mare.
Then the knight turned her horse and together they slowly rode away.
“Don’t forget I’m taking you and your husband out for dinner,” I cried out.
She stopped her mount, turning to address me. “You clearly have far more important matters to attend to.”
“Come back to this place in a year and a day. I will be here, waiting.”
“No. You’ll find other fancies to catch your interest. In time you won’t even remember my name.”
Then she turned in her saddle and rode away.
Afterwards, I went looking for her, many times. Sometimes I got close, and once I found someone that might have been her kin, but I never saw her again. But she was wrong.
I never, ever forgot Miri.