Chapter Two
The Journey Begins
After wishing the kind Haradras farewell, Alethiel started out on her journey. Though only a day later than the last time that she had walked that path, the entire world seemed different to her now, after the stay in Haradras' house. The trees were darker and more sinister looking from the outside than from the window in her room. She thought of Makairn climbing so deftly, and wished that she could duplicate his skills.
As she turned the corner leading away from Down Bywynne, she hesitated, then turned back, crashing through paths that her own feet had made for thirteen years. "I must see if what I saw was true," she thought to herself. The old man's warning of Keep to the trees was forgotten, and she trudged heedlessly through the underbrush.
As Alethiel neared her house, she felt something slip tightly around her waist, and the next thing she knew, that something was on top of her, wrestling her to the ground. She reached for her knife, but her captor's hand grasped her wrist and twisted it so that she had to let her dependable blade fall to the ground for pain.
She writhed in her captor's strong arms with the hope of being able to see whom it was that held her. As she struggled, she saw a knife pass in front of her face. The next thing that she knew, the cold steel was against her throat. The unknown pushed her, with a surprisingly gentle touch, to the ground and stood over her. As Alethiel lay there, a thought occurred to her. She pretended to swoon. The person above her grunted, stooped, and turned her over, examining her reddening wrist. She slitted her eyes open slightly so that he wouldn't know that she was awake.
To the great surprise of the maiden, the figure over her picked up her hand and began binding the wounded wrist. Alethiel could not see the person's face, for it was swathed in black fabric—however, she noticed that the hand touching her had a white bandage wrapped around it. Suddenly, she was seized with indignation. Making a quick grab for the knife that lay at her side, she thrust up and out, tearing the cloth from the unknown's face.
"Makairn!" Alethiel cried, shivering with rage. The boy stood, startled, and started to move back. Alethiel was too fast for him. She hooked her legs around his ankles as he stumbled back and he fell, his back hitting a rock as he went down.
Alethiel leaped to her feet and stood over him, her knife still held in front of her. She grinned wryly at him. "My, my, how the tables have turned. Why are you here?"
Makairn sat up and rubbed his back. "Haradras sent me to protect you."
"Protect me? You needn't have troubled yourself. I am fine on my own!" Alethiel replied indignantly. She moved aside and allowed Makairn to stand, but she continued to cover him with her knife.
Makairn tore off the black shreds of fabric that remained around his face. "Seeing as how you have so soon forgotten his warning to 'keep to the trees', I doubt very much that you would have been alright. Haradras said that you were 'too young, too naïve, and too beautiful' to travel alone without a protector." Makairn winced, still rubbing his back. "And this is the thanks I get for it," he muttered. "A wounded hand and a sore back!"
Alethiel put her knife back in its sheath, favoring her wrist as she did so. "But you needn't have attacked me like that," she said angrily. "You frightened me half to death. Don't be vexed with me for struggling; how was I supposed to know who you were? Why were you wearing a mask, anyhow? I thought that you were going to slay me."
"Haradras thought that you might soon forget his warning to stay upon the path, so he asked me to frighten you into obedience. You can see now what might happen to a young woman in the woods, alone." The boy rubbed the bandage on his hand thoughtfully. "I suppose I should have removed this first!"
Suddenly, he turned upon Alethiel, a question in his ebony eyes. "Why are you off the path anyway?" Makairn asked. As he talked, he walked toward the bush from behind which he had surprised her and pulled out blankets, food, and candles. Alethiel blushed.
"Why do you wish to know?" she asked. Makairn did not answer as he pulled a long black cloak from his bag of supplies and handed it to her.
"Put this on," he said simply.
Alethiel shook her head. "I am not at all cold, and whatever gives you the audacity to believe that you can…"
Makairn hoisted the supplies onto his broad back and strode towards her. She realized for the first time how tall he was as he stood there beside her. "Listen to me, Lady," he said quietly. "I do not want to hurt you. But it is imperative that you obey me."
"But…"
"Your life- our lives depend upon it. And I will use whatever means necessary to make sure that we stay alive. Do I make myself clear?" Alethiel nodded meekly. There was so much to this boy that she did not understand, and now some that she even feared.
Makairn placed the cloak gently around her shoulders. "This is simply for concealment purposes," he said. "How far do you think that you would get with your bright hair all down your back like that?" Alethiel made no reply.
In spite of himself, Makairn couldn't help noticing how the black garment concealed her sunny auburn locks and fair white neck, and how it draped in perfect folds around her, as if in reverence to the beauty that it concealed. Almost without noticing it, his hand moved from her shoulder to her perfect neck.
Alethiel jumped at his touch and sprang away as if bitten, a wild look of terror coming into her eyes. His words I do not want to hurt you reverberated in her mind as she backed away.
Makairn was blushing deeply as he looked at her. "I forgot myself, Lady," he whispered. "I was lost in the presence of such beauty. Forgive me, it will not happen again." So saying, he donned a cloak of the same color as Alethiel's and started off through the brush.
"Wait!" Makairn stopped and turned to look at Alethiel. The girl was not even aware that she had spoken. She stood leaning against a tree, her large sapphire-flecked-emerald eyes wide and glassy with desire and dread. "Wait," she repeated softly. Without another word, she had disappeared through the underbrush. Makairn uttered a growl of anger and darted after her.
He caught up with her soon enough. The edge of the dense forest was as far as she had intended to go in the first place. He grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away from where she stood, as if rooted to the ground by a spell of terrible power.
Alethiel was stronger than she looked, and would not let Makairn pull her away. Frustrated, he tried to lift her into his arms to bear her away bodily. "No," she whispered, a sob catching in her throat. The boy paused and turned to look where she was staring. A sigh escaped his lips.
A middle-aged Quieris woman lay face down on the ground, a gold-tipped arrow protruding from her back. Foul fumes came from the arrow, and Makairn was sorely tempted to cover his nose. He looked at Alethiel, and observed the crystalline tears splash down her cheeks with abandon.
Without warning, she shook herself from his grasp and stooped. Holding the woman in her arms, she rocked back and forth on her knees, the tears continuing to fall on the poor victim's silvered head. A low, steady moan broke from her lips, a sound that would have made even the hardest of hearts sore with the sound of it, and her slender form shook with wracking sobs. The woman's face was visible to Makairn over Alethiel's shoulder. It was a horrible sight to behold, one that he never forgot in all of his life.
Blood, in great profusion, flecked the woman's gaping mouth; her horror-stricken eyes stared ahead in glassy dread. In addition to this, the face that peered lividly at Makairn had an uncanny bluish tinge to it. The fated Quieris' limbs hung limply as Alethiel held her, and Makairn could see the maid shiver at the touch of the cold corpse-flesh.
At that moment, a horrible ghastly music filled the morning. Alethiel's head snapped up from its bowed position and Makairn moved to her side. The house of the maid and her unfortunate mother filled with an eerie light, and shapes began to appear, visible only in small parts by the window.
Horrid creatures were they, all naked, all dancing to some strange rhythm only they could know. Makairn felt Alethiel stiffen beside him. He put his hand on her shoulder; she shook him away. One of the grotesque beings wearing two writhing snakes on his head in imitation of a crown laughed as he pulled a portrait from the wall, a lovely canvas depicting Alethiel and her mother. He spat on it and ripped it open with his knife. Outside, Alethiel clenched her small fist.
Then, to her horror, he began to speak in a voice that whined and wheezed rheumatically, like an old man's. "What shall we do with the bodies, eh? Shall we leave good meat there to rot?" The loathsome beings shouted no, and their leader grinned, revealing pointed red teeth. "Alright then. We are all agreed. Let us begin to satisfy our stomachs with the Quieris outside on the path. Why look farther, eh?"
Alethiel uttered a sound scarcely human and rose, straddling her mother's body. "You will die before you touch her!" she cried, her clear young voice echoing through the forest as she drew her knife. Horrified at her rash behavior, Makairn did not waste any time. Knowing that the girl would fight him, he leaned close and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head once, as if to try and clear away what ever she had heard, then dropped senseless into his waiting arms. Flipping her effortlessly over his strong shoulder, he turned once more to the poor woman on the path. In a quiet voice he murmured "Asaris!" The body disappeared before his eyes.
Makairn and his burden disappeared into the forest moments before the naked creatures poured out of the house to eat their fill. He set Alethiel down inside the trunk of a burned out tree and sat in front of her, listening with satisfaction to the shrieking and cursing of the disappointed demons. Haradras was right. His time had come.
