Chapter twelve

Eothen had hoped that the arguments between nobles and commoners was limited to the town they just left, but it was not to be. It was only the beginning. Every town they visited, there was some version of the same argument; the nobles were trying to squeeze everything they could out of the people who had nothing left to give. Petty squabbles, peasants between two hard choices and trying to make the best of it and usually coming up short, legally speaking. Eothen tried to rule not just fairly, but justly, and to help the people work out more reasonable compromises; but she felt like she was chasing a caravan that was running faster and faster in the opposite direction.

"I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle,"" she told Alek one night.

"Me too," Alek replied. "The last time I took a new Herald on their internship circuit, there were hints of these kinds of disputes; but nothing on this level. I think that when we get back to Haven, we need to bring this up to the general Council and see if we can't get a review of the laws."

"I'm not so sure it can wait until we get back," said Eothen. "If we're already feeling like it's a losing battle, it's only going to get worse in the next six moons. Add to that the fact that it will likely take at least another six moons to get the Council to agree on new laws, and another several for the Heralds to get the word out to the citizens, I think they need to start negotiating them now."

"You're right," said Alek. "But I'm not so sure that either Aladrian or Kasara are able to communicate to the other Companions from this distance. Kasara tells me that there was once a time when Companions could communicate with the Monarch's Own Companion no matter how far away they were, but those days are gone."

"Aladrian tells me the same thing," said Eothen. "Not specifically that, I mean, but that the Companions once had powers that they no longer possess, and that the Gifts we have are fewer and weaker than in the past."

"Makes you wonder," said Alek.

"About what?" asked Eothen.

"Whether or not all the legends of warrior mages are true, and not just bedtime stories," he replied.

Eothen considered telling Alek that she knew for a fact that those legends were true; but she did not. He would have undoubtedly though she was crazy. She wasn't certain he would be wrong.

:Probably for the best.: said Taia. :Although…..I may be able to help in this particular arena. Aladrian knows I 'exist'. I can boost his Mindspeech enough to reach Taver. He can play up his superior abilities any way he sees fit.:

:I think Aladrian would like that.: said Eothen.

:From what I remember about Companions, they'll take any opportunity to make themselves appear grander.: said Taia.

:That part hasn't changed.: said Eothen. :Any idea why so much else has changed? There hasn't been a mage in anyone's memory at all. And if all the Gifts are weaker, and the Companions are too, there has to be a reason for it. Any ideas on how we could get it back to how it was in your day?:

:You can't.: said Taia. :In my day, magic was concentrated in things called nodes; it was collected there by the work of many mages. The Tale'edras, in fact, our cousins – the ones with the birds. But the Mage Storms came, a result of the Cataclysm so long ago that you saw when I showed you the death of Urtho and Ma'ar: - Eothen thought she detected a little hitch in Taia's Mindvoice when she said Ma'ar's name, what was that about? - :and after those storms, magic was dispersed. It still existed, but instead of being like lakes and rivers the way I was used to that could really be used, it was more like a mist. It took a mage of great power to be able to harness it and use it in any real way.:

:But wouldn't that just mean that such mages were rare, not nonexistent?: asked Eothen.

:Good question.: answered Taia. :It would seem so. And I suppose it's possible, but Mage Gift, when it's present, has a tendency to make itself known rather violently. It is possible that such children do not survive the experience anymore, in fact. But even if they did – there are no more teachers. I think it is far more likely that the ability has just simply burned itself out. And with magic more difficult to utilize, the abilities of the Companions have shrunk as well.:

:Hmph.: said Eothen.

:Right.: said Taia. :Now, for the issue at hand…..:

:I am ready.: said Aladrian.

"Aladrian says he can reach Taver, if he concentrates," Eothen sait to Alek. "He will be exhausted, so we should be prepared to remain here until he recovers; but I think it's worth the effort."

"Really?" asked Alek. "That's impressive. We can certainly stay here for a day, if he thinks he can do it. I agree that it's worth the delay."

Eothen put a blanket over Aladrian's back; Taia would be boosting him, but he was still going to use every last bit of his own energy for this. She didn't want him catching a chill. He nuzzled her his thanks and moved closer to the fire. He lowered his head, ears forward, eyes closed, and went very still. For what seemed like days but was really only half a candlemark, everything was silent. Aladrian seemed to glow, and only Eothen recognized that glow as mage energy – largely from Taia – and not a particular Companion trick. Well, except for Kasara of course; she knew that Companions couldn't do this anymore, but she wasn't going to say so.

When it was over, Aladrian was no longer glowing. In fact, he almost appeared grey, and his eyes, while still blue, were certainly dimmer.

:Are you alright?: asked Eothen, alarmed.

:Yes.: he replied, in barely a whisper. :Tired. Will tell you more tomorrow. Sleep now.:

Eothen was alarmed, and a bit disappointed that she would have to wait until morning to hear anything about how the conversation went; but she could clearly see that Aladrian was far too exhausted to tell her now – in fact he was already asleep – and so she would just have to wait. Unless Taia…..

:No.: Taia said. :I am out of energy. Tomorrow.:

Eothen sighed. Patience was not one of her virtues. But there was nothing to be done for it, so she got up and wandered off into the woods with her bow to hunt some meat for tomorrow's breakfast, and possibly lunch. There was no telling how long Aladrian would be sleeping, and when he woke, he may not be ready to travel just yet; they would likely be camping here the next night as well as this one, so she may as well have enough meat to feed herself and Alek for the day. Besides, she was in need of some skins to make new breeches, so even if they didn't need the meat they would have to find a way to deliver it to someone who did while she worked the skin.

The sun was just setting out of the woods, and there was plenty of light there; but inside the treeline, the leaves and the branches were so thick that it was difficult to see. They were just on the edge of a forest she had once heard had once been called the Pelagiris; it was rumored to be home to all sorts of unusual creatures, and people said it was haunted. There were all sorts of stories parents used to scare their children into behaving, stories about poisonous lizards, screaming giant birds, any number of nightmares. But Eothen didn't believe in anything like that; everyone knew those were just stories. Every culture she'd ever come into contact with had similar stories, all used for the purpose of making sure that children didn't fight with their siblings, they ate their vegetables, they went to bed on time. There was nothing particularly unusual about this forest, though, as far as Eothen could tell; the trees were perhaps a bit larger than other forests, but that was just a matter of species.

Except that Taia had shown her those Vales, she suddenly remembered; and she knew, from Taia's stories, that plenty of things she had once believed to be nothing but bedtime stories had in fact been true. Or at least, mostly true. Was there any truth to those stories about monsters? She was not easily spooked, but suddenly every shadow was a giant lizard, every trick of the light was a ghost. She told herself to stop being ridiculous; even if there had once been monsters of some kind in this forest, they were long since gone. This was just a forest, like any other, home to deer and warthogs and rabbits. And right now, it was deer she was looking for.

She creeped along, trying not to make any noise as she walked along the spare paths of the forests, trying to not look behind her to see what ghastly creature she knew was following her, trying to ignore the raised hairs on the back of her neck. Stop it, she told herself; there was no such thing as monsters. The only monsters left were human, and she had defeated plenty of those.

Finally, she found her target; a large stag, in the smallest of clearings, as if it were just sitting there waiting for her to come and kill it. He was perfect; he had a large set of antlers, which she would use to make knife handles, silverware, and maybe a new set of game pieces for the game of ketuba Hexen liked to play. It had a thick, unmarked hide that would make beautiful breeches and probably have enough left over for a vest or maybe even a whole tunic. He had not noticed that she was there yet; she planted herself behind a large tree, took a deep breath and said the blessing her parents had taught her to say before she took the life of a creature, thanking it for its sacrifice. She raised her bow, took aim – and fired.

The stag fell, and she quickly ran over to make sure he didn't suffer. She had hit him square in the heart; he was dead. She took out her small hunting knife and began to clean the corpse; she slit the belly open and pulled out the bowels. They were sometimes good for making sausage, but she didn't have the time for that here; they would make a nice offering for the scavengers of these woods. Similarly with the other organs; if she had been in a place where she could preserve them, there were uses for each one, although she personally did not eat organ meat very often. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with the head at this moment; she wanted the antlers, but she didn't want the rest of the head either. She decided she would haul it back with her, harvest the antlers and then dispose of the rest the next day. She had not brought her large knife with her, only the small hunting knife; that was little more than a handle with a sharp end, not good for anything more than gutting a deer. She could not harvest antlers with it, and so she stood up to prepare herself to drag this corpse back to camp with her.

And felt something jump on her back.

She screamed and whirled around to find a man grasping at her with his hands, his knife pulling at her clothing. It wasn't clear whether he was trying to kill her or rape her; she wasn't sure he knew, even, and she wasn't about to wait and find out which. She kicked, she punched, she bit; she cursed herself for leaving her knives and her sword at the tent. Didn't she know better than to never go anywhere without a knife in her boot, at least? But she had been focused on hunting, believing herself safe. And now here she was about to die because she was stupid enough to break a rule she had followed every day of her life since she was old enough to walk. At the very least, why had she not brought her larger knife with her in anticipation of taking a deer? She knew she was hunting deer, why had she not thought ahead to bring something she could harvest antlers with, at least? That knife would have been large enough to have done her some good here. But no; she was clearly unprepared. And it was going to cost her, at the very least, her bodily autonomy.

She fought hard, with her gimp leg and her stubby hunting knife, but her attacker was half again her size and had come prepared with a knife – a real one – of his own. Her tunic was now in rags, and she had several cuts about her harms and her chest; if she lived, this deer might have to provide a tunic before breeches, at this rate, but that would wait to be determined. First she had to live, and at this point that was by no means certain. She thought about trying to rouse Aladrian from his slumber but he was so exhausted….if he were arousable, he would have been here by now. So she kept kicking, kept punching, kept barely holding that knife away from her throat and hoped for a lucky punch of her own….

But it was a losing battle, and she knew it. Her attacker swept her gimp leg out from under her just as she was raising her good one to kick him between his legs and down she went, hard. She prepared herself to mentally scream for Aladrian as 'loud' as she could, hoping he heard her, and hoping just as hard that she could hold her attacker's knife hand away from her throat long enough for him to arrive, but she was pretty sure he would be too late even if she succeeded in waking him. She wondered briefly if Kasara, or even Alek had enough Gift to hear her if she really tried, but Alek didn't have a Mindspeech Gift at all. Hers was weak, and Kasara was not her Companion; there was no reason for her to be able to hear her call. She was on her own, and she was going to fail.

The knife was in her attacker's hand, at her throat; he had his knees on her thighs, and had apparently decided to rape her before killing her, since his other hand was fiddling with his pants. Hers were long since shredded, and her hands were both occupied by keeping the knife from actually slicing into her neck; she prepared herself for what she knew he was about to do, as much as she thought she could, anyway…

And suddenly there was a giant blur running from her left side. She heard a growl, and the man was gone; before she knew what had happened, there was a muted scream that was not coming from her own throat, a wet gurgle - and it was over. She rolled over on her side, stunned, having no idea what she would see - and found herself face to face with the biggest wolf she had ever seen.