“Very much,” said Aelwys honestly, “Your people have incredible stories!”
“Most other folk don't think so,” he replied, “But I'm quite happy that you do! Wait.”
They paused. They could hear a new sound above the steady rhythm of the sea pounding herself against the stony cliff, though the sound was very unclear. Still the sun shown through the clouds, and the afternoon appeared peaceful, yet as the sound grew clearer, a great chill seized Aelwys' spine. Heavy hoofbeats. Both she and Collin stared down the road toward Hammon, and saw in the distance a great plume of dust announcing the approach of many riders.
“To the safehouse!” cried Collin, his bravado gone. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them toward the old wreck. When they arrived, they found Edyl ushering in those returning from foraging.
“Edyl,” cried Aelwys, “Riders are coming!”
“They are,” aknowledged the man, “And you’d best get inside with the others. Your mother’s waiting for you.”
She and Collin rushed inside, gathering with some twenty others within, some crouched sitting on the beds to make room for the rest. Aelwys nearly fell into Mother’s arms. Collin found his way to his parents, a middle-aged man and woman near the door. Collin’s father bore a great sword, nearly as tall as himself, leaning on it for support. Many other men in the room bore arms as well. Aelwys held her breath as the thunder of the approaching horsemen drew nearer. She knew that a battle between these and a legion of soldier-priests was hopeless.
Louder and louder came the tumult of falling hoofs, until it came to a climax, and then fell silent. The party had paused. The air was thick with sweat and fear.
Then Edyl’s voice was heard.
“Men bearing the banners of Mandgawr in the Sovereign’s land! What is the meaning of this?”
“A Northman alone in the haunted wood,” came the reply, a fair voice in a strange accent, “Is this not as strange? Would you not better fit in a frozen homestead by a rotting Keep, tending your sheep?”
“The woods best suit me and my ilk,” said Edyl, “Since the Sovereign has deemed my Keep worthy as a barracks for his men.”
“Most other folk don't think so,” he replied, “But I'm quite happy that you do! Wait.”
They paused. They could hear a new sound above the steady rhythm of the sea pounding herself against the stony cliff, though the sound was very unclear. Still the sun shown through the clouds, and the afternoon appeared peaceful, yet as the sound grew clearer, a great chill seized Aelwys' spine. Heavy hoofbeats. Both she and Collin stared down the road toward Hammon, and saw in the distance a great plume of dust announcing the approach of many riders.
“To the safehouse!” cried Collin, his bravado gone. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them toward the old wreck. When they arrived, they found Edyl ushering in those returning from foraging.
“Edyl,” cried Aelwys, “Riders are coming!”
“They are,” aknowledged the man, “And you’d best get inside with the others. Your mother’s waiting for you.”
She and Collin rushed inside, gathering with some twenty others within, some crouched sitting on the beds to make room for the rest. Aelwys nearly fell into Mother’s arms. Collin found his way to his parents, a middle-aged man and woman near the door. Collin’s father bore a great sword, nearly as tall as himself, leaning on it for support. Many other men in the room bore arms as well. Aelwys held her breath as the thunder of the approaching horsemen drew nearer. She knew that a battle between these and a legion of soldier-priests was hopeless.
Louder and louder came the tumult of falling hoofs, until it came to a climax, and then fell silent. The party had paused. The air was thick with sweat and fear.
Then Edyl’s voice was heard.
“Men bearing the banners of Mandgawr in the Sovereign’s land! What is the meaning of this?”
“A Northman alone in the haunted wood,” came the reply, a fair voice in a strange accent, “Is this not as strange? Would you not better fit in a frozen homestead by a rotting Keep, tending your sheep?”
“The woods best suit me and my ilk,” said Edyl, “Since the Sovereign has deemed my Keep worthy as a barracks for his men.”
Aelwys broke from Mother’s arms and peered through the sliver of open door. Edyl stood with his sword sheathed, facing twenty mounted men dressed in plates and mail and crimson robes. The nearest to him dismounted, the captain of the party. His head was covered with a golden helm, and a glorious scabbarded blade hung at his side.
“Which of the three keeps was yours?” he asked.
“I am Laerd-Duthmir of stronghold Lenthae. I go to flee with my people across the sea.”
“Your people, Laerd?” the captain looked about, “I see naught but a rotted hull and an evil forest.”
“The Sovereign’s men patrol these roads,” Edyl answered him, “and we must travel by night. My people hide within the rotting vessel.”
Silence clung to the air itself while the captain looked exactly to where Aelwys stood watching.
“The Sovereign’s men patrol these roads no more,” he said at last. “The King of Mandgawr has begun to wage war against the Sovereign. The first battle was finished not two hours ago; we smote down a party of soldier-priests wandering this way.”
“There are others,” said Edyl, “and they will know something is amiss when those you slew do not return.”
“That is our hope. We will draw them out into battle, band by band, until they fear us in the North.”
An intriguing, intense sort of situation. Sort of reminds me of that part in Eldest (the Eragon series) where Eragon's entire home village has to leave their home to escape the....um....evil people. Except that this is actually good.
ReplyDeleteCompared to what I used to write, I'm amazed I've made it 15 pages into a project without a single instance of swords clanging and junk like that.
ReplyDeleteThought it might be getting dull.
You are restraining yourself. That is good. It's like the movie Jaws, where they didn't show the shark until we were an hour into the movie. Suspense! It is good.
ReplyDelete