Hi guys! I'm sorry for making you wait so long! That is, if any of you are still there, hehe. I did update chapter five last month but since I just replaced my author's not it didn't come up. Since then I've been struggling through this chapter. Parts of it may seem forced, and I apologize for that, because I was suffering some major writer's block. Nothing new, I guess. But towards the end I started really cooking again and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Nine pages long! I wrote two beginnings for it, and I wasn't sure which one to put up, so I had to ask my sister for help. But it was still hard. One is shorter and kind of funny, but the other goes into more depth. In the end I decided to go with the longer one, because it flowed better with the rest of the story. My sister agreed. Thanks for being my proofreader, Molly! I got a comment on how this seemed too light for an 'R' rating. Until now, that's been true. I was setting up her family and childhood and there wasn't anything 'R' worthy. But there will be. A lot of violence and perhaps even sexual content, if I have the guts to write it. But it'll stay light for a few more chapters. Then the violence begins, hehe. Anyways, enjoy!
From the memoirs of Donovan Steelwind, the Gryphon of Shang
History would call her Melisande the Shang, or Melisande the Phoenix. She would be portrayed as perfection itself, unbreakable steel, razor sharp and so far above the human canon that she became a deity unto herself. She was loved by her friends and feared by her enemies, respected by all. She instilled a sense of loyalty in those who served her such as I had never seen, almost fanatical in its strength. She was a magnificent fighter, worthy of the "immortal" Shang; a mage with the strength and potential to earn a black robe from the Imperial University in Carthak; a beauty of the like that appears on this mortal plane only once a century. Melisande was indeed a remarkable woman, too good to be true one could say. But she was no deity. I watched her grow from a girl to a woman, and finally to a queen. And Melisande was as human as any could hope to be.
I say this not to belittle her abilities, great and many as they were. I say this only to emphasize her humanity, which was somehow forgotten in the annals of history.
Melisande was a bright child, but she had not the patience for studying mathematics and history. She preferred to be out and active, doing something physical with her hands where she could see the results. The scholarly pursuits were too vague for her, with no real result that she could see and touch. This hindered her magical studies as well. She struggled through her morning lessons with Nicola, forcing herself to remain focused on the spells and histories of magic. The effort she wouldn't spend on mathematics and literature she desperately tried to spend on magic. She knew magic was useful, just as she knew the fighting arts I taught her were useful. But unlike my trade, which was a simple concentration of body and mind, magic required study and memorization.
It was hard for her. Even as she grew older and more disciplined, magic remained the thorn in her side. Once she mastered a spell, it stayed with her forever. But getting it in her head was a trial in itself. I am not ashamed to say that her father and I had many a good laugh teasing her for her ineptitude at her studies.
I would like to say that she took our gentle teasing in stride, and sometimes she did, but often she became frustrated and retaliated with insults and jibes that became cruder and less innocent as she grew older and spent more time at the barracks of the Own among her father's men. She never could grasp the finer, subtle maneuvers of her grandfather's court, but she could swear an oath that would make the coarsest of infantrymen blush. A skill that she, of course, kept well hidden in the presence of her mother and court nobles.
Melisande, like her father, was an excellent soldier, a natural leader of men. As such, she had few failings in the ways of the warrior. But she did have them.
As a commander, she was often required to travel by sea to reach her destination in less time than it would if she traveled by land. But for Melisande this often posed a major problem. Like her grandfather, Numair Salmalin, she did not travel well. Stubbornness and pride kept her from spending the entire trip bent over the railing, but she always lost a noticeable amount of weight and her skin maintained a slight greenish tinge for days afterwards.
Knights and generals rely of maps for plotting paths through tricky terrain or setting up a good line of defense. But for Melisande, maps were a constant struggle. She could read them well enough, only needing help deciphering the marks from time to time, but she could not make them herself. It is a skill the Riders and knights of the realm learned early in their training, and although every one of them did not master it, most all of them could draw the most basic outline of mountains, trees and rivers. But Melisande, who had the artistic ability of a rock, couldn't even do that. No matter how hard she tried, her maps came out lopsided, more like a child's scribbling than anything else. She was forced to rely upon others to perform this duty. Again I must admit she was often on the receiving end of relentless teasing from her father or myself.
Along with her ineptitude at maps, Melisande couldn't track very well. She was constantly overlooking the subtle hints in the dirt at her feet or scratched on tree bark or bent branches, all key in following elusive prey. Again she had to rely on her men or her magic to do the work for her, something she detested.
Beyond the realm of soldiering, Melisande was rather ordinary. Caught between the world of a country noble and a member of the royal family, she accumulated an odd assortment of skills and failings. Her skills as a cook went only as far as learning how to cook meat without setting it on fire or not burning porridge in a pot. A needle in her hands was a dangerous thing, for she couldn't even mend simple rips in her clothing as most foot soldiers learned to do. Instead she pricked her fingers and tangled the thread and stained the cloth with her own blood. Dancing, a necessity for a young woman of the royal court, was as much a trial for her as magic was. She was forever stepping on her partner's foot or moving off beat. Through years of stubborn practice managed to learn enough steps well enough not to embarrass herself, but she avoided balls and parties like rotten meat all the same.
All of that aside, I think that the thing that made Melisande truly human were her fears. She feared battle, worried that her own skills wouldn't be enough to save her men from a bloody death. Crowds of strangers larger than twenty made her nervous. She was terrified of being helpless, rendered useless by disease or injury or the limit of her abilities. She once told me that she didn't like the thought of dying old and frail in her bed, as many nobles did. When I asked why, she simply said "I want my death to count."
It was something I myself feared, but I never told her that, afraid she would be too willing to throw her life away in battle to "make it count."
There was only one thing that could paralyze her with terror, a fear that pursued her to the end of her days. Melisande was afraid of the dark. Not night, lit by stars and moonlight, but true and utter darkness. When I first met her at four it had no hold on her. But in the summer of her sixth birthday, it claimed its hold on her heart.
Lord Raenef and his men were called out early in the morning to ride to a village only half a day's ride away from their manse in Conté to deal with a spidren attack. I went with him to lend my blade and tracker's skill to their hunt. Without me, Melisande was left with a free afternoon. I left instructions to practice, but didn't expect her to follow them. Agatha told me later that she had tried to practice the stances and exercises on her own, but lasted no more than an hour. After giving up on that, she left the house to run down to the village and play with the local children.
I've never been sure of exactly what happened after that. Melisande never spoke of it, trying desperately to forget. We knew that she and two boys ran off in to the woods to catch frogs in a nearby stream, as they often did. Her mother allowed this only because Katla and Somerled, Lord Raenef's two great hounds, accompanied them as both chaperones and guards. But the boys never returned home to the village, and Melisande never came back to the manse.
I remember that night well. It was close to the new moon and overcast, making it necessary to travel by torchlight. The spidrens had slipped through our search net without a trace, so Raenef had made the decision to return home and pick up the search the next day, this time with Nicola's magical aid.
I was half-asleep in my saddle, wearing from a long day of riding and tracking through bogs and thick forest. But when we came through the gate, Nicola's screams brought me out of my almost-slumber.
"Raenef! She's gone!" Nicola bolted down the steps and to her husband's horse as he swung himself out of the saddle. His feet were on the ground just in time to catch her as her knees gave way and she collapsed against him. "My baby's gone!"
I dismounted so fast my foot caught in the stirrup and I almost fell flat on my face, but Adish was there to grab my shoulder and steady me. I hurried over to my liege and his wife, trying to keep my own fear hidden when I saw it stricken across their faces.
"My love, calm down. Please." Raenef's voice was steady despite the fear in his eyes. He gently stroked Nicola's hair, trying to soothe her enough so she could speak clearly. "What happened?"
She sobbed into his shoulder for a long moment, fighting to calm herself. "She went out to play in the village… she went into the forest with two boys. Their mothers came to me at sunset because they never came home." Her momentary calm broke and she began to cry anew. "Oh Melly, my baby girl."
Raenef carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her inside with Agatha, leaving me to direct the men. I drew a deep breath and began issuing orders.
"Adish, we'll need fresh horses. Tell the men to saddle their extras and prepare to move out soon." He ran to follow my orders. I turned quickly to Leonard, Raenef's chief commander of Second Company. "We'll need men from the village to help us search. And as many torches as we can carry."
"Of course, Master Shang." He bowed quickly and called over two of his men, dispatching them to the village.
I sighed slightly. Even though I had been living with Raenef's family for over a year now, the men of the Own still regarded me as a figured to be awed and respected. They didn't question my taking charge.
Raenef came back outside just as Adish was leading our spare horses from the stable. His face was paler than usual and dark circles were beginning to show under his eyes. He was as tired as the rest of us, and afraid for his only child.
"Nicola has been scrying since sundown, but she can't see anything." He ran a hand through his hair, dirty and tangled from a long day of trudging through the forest. "There is something blocking her vision. Immortal magic."
I was afraid to ask the question because I already knew the answer. "Spidrens?"
"Aye."
The truth lay heavy on our shoulders. We both knew the likely fate of a child alone in a forest full of spidrens. In my mind I saw my little student, full of life and laughter. I saw her cut down under a spidren claw and torn apart by their jagged fangs. Fear gripped my heart with icy claws, but I kept myself calm somehow, resisting the urge to leap on my horse and dash through the woods to find Melisande. Whatever I was feeling, I knew it was ten times stronger for Raenef.
"I've sent men to the village to organize a search party, my lord. With the added number of the village men, we can cover twice the area in half the time." I put my hand on his shoulder, speaking with a confidence I didn't feel. "We will find her, my lord."
Those eyes of the famous Conté blue remained fixated on the ground as his hands slowly tightened into fists. When he finally looked up to meet my gaze, there was murder in his eyes. "We will find her. And if those monsters have touched my daughter, they will yearn for death long before it finds them."
Our search was a failure. We combed the forest with a line almost two hundred men long, moving as quickly as we could while scouring the ground and trees for signs of the missing children. By dawn the men of the Own were close to collapse, and the men of the village were not far behind. After much argument, Lord Raenef consented to halt the search so we could get some much needed sleep. But he would not return to the mansion until he found his daughter. Gathering in the biggest clearing we could find, the men spread out their cloaks and blankets and within moments everyone was asleep, even Raenef.
He woke us an hour after noon. While we'd slept women sent by Nicola had found us, bringing with them salted meats and porridge to rejuvenate the exhausted searchers. While the men ate, Raenef knelt in front of a magical blue fire to speak with his wife.
He kept his voice low, so I didn't hear what he said. But I could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders that he was fighting the urge to weep in despair. I could only hear bare hints of Nicola's voice, no longer frantic with fear but serious and composed. When Raenef waved the fire away and stood, I stepped through the crowd of men to speak with him in hushed whispers.
"Nicola is going to join us. She'll be here in half any hour." He scrubbed at his tousled hair with a trembling hand. "I only hope that she can see what we missed."
"With Lady Nicola riding with us we'll have the help of every animal in the forest, my lord." Once again I forced myself to speak with confidence, but in my heart I felt only dread. "We'll surely find the little mistress then."
He was too distracted to notice the slight quake in my voice and the fear in my eyes, instead taking my words to heart and nodding slightly. To keep ourselves occupied, Raenef and I inspected out tack and weapons, oiling the leather and sharpening the blades with whet stones. We always kept our equipment in good condition, so most of it was completely unnecessary, but neither of us wanted to be left with idle time on our hands.
True to her promise, Nicola arrived in half an hour. She was astride a stallion lathered in sweat, her hair falling out of its bun. I was shocked to see her horse in such a state, especially since Nicola was his rider. Nicola had strong wild magic, so she was always very sensitive to the needs of her animals, and she never overworked them. It occurred to me then that with her daughter's life at stake, nothing else mattered to her. Somehow, even though I wasn't a parent myself, I could understand it.
Raenef was at his wife's side immediately, helping her off her horse. Adish appeared to take the stallion somewhere quiet where it could recuperate while his twin reported to me.
"The men are ready to leave, Master Shang."
"Good." I nodded, clapping a hand on the young Bazhir's shoulder. "We ride on Lord Raenef's signal."
As Namir jogged off to organize the men, I joined my lord and lady. The frantic, terrified Nicola I had seen the night before was nowhere to be seen. Instead she was cool and calm, getting down to business straight away.
"I've already asked every bird within my range to help us, and as we speak the local pack of wolves is on its way here. They'll arrive shortly." She looked at her husband. "I promised them that the men wouldn't harm them."
He nodded. "And they won't." Calling a lieutenant to him, he issued swift orders to inform the men of the wolves and instruct them to give the hunters free passage through the camp.
The mention of wolves sparked a sudden insight in me, and I quickly touched Nicola's elbow to gain her attention. "My lady, what of Katla and Somerled, the hounds? Didn't Melly take them with her?"
She stared at me for a moment, then swore an oath that made the men around us stare in awe. "I'm a fool. Of course she did. I should have looked for them first."
It wasn't more than a minute before Nicola was running across camp and into the forest with Raenef and me following closely. She stumbled over fallen logs and through bramble bushes, deaf to our offers of assistance. We couldn't have been more than two hundred feet from camp when she fell to her knees at the foot of a dead sycamore. Nicola pushed away the rank piles of dead leaves and soil that covered a large hole at the base of the tree that opened into a hollow in the tree's core.
"Raenef, help me." She didn't look back when she called to her husband. Instead she crawled forward until she was halfway in the hole. Lord Raenef and I were puzzled until a soft, low whine came from inside the tree.
Raenef knelt and helped his wife pull Katla from the tree. The big hound was covered in dirt and blood, her wiry gray fur dark and sticky around long, shallow gashes on her flanks and back. Her back right leg was limp and useless. Her long tail wagged slowly as she tried to lick Nicola's hand. An ugly gash ran across her brow, and her right eye beneath it was glued shut by the blood encrusted over it.
"Spidren claws did this." Nicola's voice was dark. She leaned down and rested her brow on Katla's shoulder, falling silent as she spoke magically to the hound. One nod from Lord Raenef sent me back to camp for horses and men. As I ran I thanked the gods that Nicola's presence had made the two hounds almost as smart as any human. An ordinary dog would've been dead or eaten. But Katla was smart enough to get away and hide herself. Because of that we had a chance to find Melisande.
Raenef's men were well trained. While we'd been running through the woods after a dog, they had broken camp and readied their mounts. Adish was waiting for me with his brother, holding the reins of four fresh horses. They followed me back to Nicola and Raenef without question, well accustomed to the odd circumstances of their life with the unconventional pair.
When we returned a large black wolf was standing where I had last seen Nicola. Several smaller wolves sat in a ring around Katla washing her wounds with their tongues. The large black one looked up at me with Nicola's blue eyes, jaws parting in a wolfish grin of welcome. Raenef turned around to face me, holding Nicola's bundled dress under one arm.
"She's going ahead with the pack. I can keep track of her magically." He accepted the reins to his horse from Namir. "Nicola can't sense Somerled, so he's either unconscious or dead, but the pack has his scent. Katla tells us she last saw Melly with him." He took a deep breath. "That's the best lead we have."
I clapped my hand on his shoulder and spoke with a confidence I didn't feel. "Don't worry, my lord. With these fine hunters to aid us we're sure to find the little one."
A pair of elderly wolves had apparently been nominated to remain with Katla as nurses. The rest of the pack threw back their heads in a single howl, and the hunt began.
It was perhaps one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. We had to gallop to keep pace with the wolves, ducking low in the saddle to avoid branches. Our horses weaved through the trees and leapt over fallen logs. I was not the best of horsemen, and it was all I could do to keep from being hurled from the saddle. My gaze was frozen on the path directly in front of me, for I feared that should I look away I would certainly falter.
I don't remember how we rode. It seemed like a life time, but I suppose in reality it was only ten minutes at most. The wolves ahead howled to announce they had discovered something, and we reined our mounts out of their gallop and into a more sedate canter. It was growing late and the sunlight that filtered through the leaves overhead was weak, making it difficult to see. I could head the snarls of the pack ahead, and the screams of what sounded like human voices.
A man on my left was lifted screaming from his saddle into the trees above, and two others beyond him were suddenly caught in a glowing web. I drew my long sword from its sheathe on my back and dismounted. Remaining on my horse would only put me at a disadvantage. Urging the gelding to turn back, I peered through the dim light in search of Raenef.
A huge object knocked into me from behind, throwing me to the ground and pinning me with its weight. I struggled to turn my head so as to see what was on top of me, and to my great disgust and horror it was my horse. His head had been ripped from his body, leaving a gory mess that made my stomach roll. Guilt at being so irresponsible with the beast would find me later, but now I needed to focus on getting the damn thing off me.
My right hand and sword were pinned beneath the horse. With my left hand I reached out and grabbed blindly for something to hold onto so I could pull myself, now almost completely blind in the dim light. My hand found a long, hairy leg, and I immediately jerked away, revulsion rolling over me in waves. I looked up to meet the black gaze of a female spidren, grinning at me with silver fangs that already dripped with blood.
I was not afraid to die. As a Shang, especially one of the immortal Shang, it was something I had to come to terms with long ago. But I did fear this, dying helplessly for nothing, unable to defend myself and without anything to show for my efforts. It was one of my great fears, the fear of many Shang, I suspect. A meaningless death was more than I could bear to consider. Melisande was still out here somewhere, alone and afraid, or perhaps even dead. I couldn't die until I found her.
A horse screamed behind the spidren, and automatically it turned to look. I saw my chance and with all of my strength I yanked my right hand and sword free, most likely tearing some of the muscles in my arm in the process. Before the spidren could look back and see my weapon I stabbed it upwards, praying it would hit. It pierced the monster's throat, breaking through the other side and lodging itself there. Silver blood gushed from the wound, running down the sword and on to my hand. It was like acid, burning into my flesh. Before I could let go the hilt was yanked from my hand as the spidren reared up, screaming in rage and pain as it desperately clawed at the blade lodged in its throat.
Two arrows thudded into its side, finishing the beast off in a merciful end it didn't deserve. Helping hands grabbed my arms and pulled me free of my horse and lifting me to my feet. It was the Bazhir twins, Adish and Namir. Suddenly I could see, the forest around me lit by a bright blue light.
Raenef stepped over my dead horse to join us, a blue mage light burning brightly over his head. The naked sword in his hand dripped with silver spidren blood. His face was grim as he looked me over. "Are you hurt, Donovan?"
I held up my hand and showed him the ugly welt that covered the back of it and part of my wrist and shook my head. "Aside from this my lord, I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me, is all."
He nodded and raised his sword, his voice booming through the forest, amplified by his Gift. "Men of the Own, form your squads. Don't let them touch you. Forward!"
The initial panic at the sudden appearance of the spidrens had been brief. While I was pinned under my horse the men of the Own had taken charge of the village men and driven the immortals back, killing many of them in the process. Every mage in the Company had cast a light, and the forest was brighter than daylight.
We moved forward, following the howls of the wolves and the screams of the spidrens. I stopped briefly to pull my sword from the monster's corpse, grunting with effort as I used only my left hand. When I tried to use my right hand, white hot pain lanced through my arm. My guess had been right, I had torn something. It would be useless from here on out.
The bodies of men and spidrens littered the ground. The immortals looked like giant pincushions, many of them full of over a dozen arrows while others had simply been run through or beheaded. It was hard to look at the men. Some had heads ripped from their bodies like my horse, or others had simply been ripped in half. The spridens didn't have the clean cutting edge of swords and axes so their work was gory and nauseating. Before that night I had never seen the inside of a man. Now I saw plenty, the halves of bodies lying close to one another with their insides strewn between them. I heard men vomiting behind me, and it was all I could do to keep from joining them.
We found the spidren nest under siege. Wolves swarmed over the spidrens, ripping them limb from limb as ruthlessly as they had our men. There were more than I remembered, another pack must have joined them. The huge black one, Nicola, led the attack, ripping out the throats of every spidren that crossed her path. At first I had thought it to be total chaos, but now I saw that they were organized, making sure to attack in numbers and moving in a pincer movement around the mouth of the nest.
Raenef dispatched orders quickly, sending his men around the wolves' formation to act as support. Their archers kept any spidrens from escaping and the rest filled in any gaps in the line. I followed him as he worked his way through the wolves towards his wife, covering his back while he set immortals aflame with the blue fire of his Gift.
The nest had once been a barn, long abandoned from the looks of it. The spidrens had fortified it with large boulders and tree branches. Glowing webs hung from the barn and the trees around it, threatening to entangle any who ventured too close.
"My lord," I shouted to be heard over the battle. "Could she be in the nest?"
He nodded grimly and we began cutting a path through the spidrens with sword and Gift. We were joined by Namir and Leonard, one of the commanders. The archers on the outskirts of the battle caught on to our plan and began targeting the immortals in our way or sniping off those that sought to sneak up behind us. We reached the entrance with amazing speed.
"Keep an eye out for attacks from above." Raenef said, casting another mage light to send ahead of us into the blackness.
It was like something out of a madman's nightmare. Webs hung from the walls and rafters and bones were scattered across the ground. The odd human or animal limb was left here and there in the webs along with cocoons. Some were large enough to hold a horse or cow, others were unnervingly close to human size, and others could have been small deer or other woodland creatures.
"Is she here?" I asked, my eyes constantly scanning the dimly light loft above us.
There weren't any stalls or pens left in the barn, so our view was unobstructed. In the corner I could see a pile of broken bodies, human and animal, left to rot. It also served as a play place for their young, we soon discovered, as half a dozen tiny monsters raced screaming from underneath the bodies. At the same time three adults dropped from above, forcing us to duck to avoid their swiping claws.
Raenef shouted something and pointed his sword at the charging offspring, and all six of them burst into bright blue flames. Leonard, who was also Gifted, followed his leader's example and set one of the adults aflame with his bright yellow Gift. Namir and I had not a drop of magic between us, and were left to rely on our blades. I moved as quickly as I could, lifting my blade high and then bringing it slamming down into the back of the spidren's neck. Without both hands I was at a great disadvantage, unable to wield my heavy blade to its full potential. The blow killed the spidren, but I didn't have the strength to behead it fully. My blade was wedge tightly in the flesh, and I cursed myself for not thinking of that before I struck. I couldn't get it out with only one hand.
I didn't linger over the blade, quickly reaching for my dagger in its sheath at the small of my back. Perhaps it had been stupid of me to come, for when it came to battling immortals I was completely inexperienced. I could take on half a dozen men at once without worrying, but against these fearsome monsters I was a rank amateur.
I refused to let doubt cloud my thoughts, diverting my mind by taking inventory of the weapons I carried. I had three other knives, one in my boot and the others in sheaths on my wrists. Even though I wasn't naturally left handed, I was confident that if I had to I could throw accurately, especially with a big target like a spidren.
But it didn't come to that. Those three had been the only ones left in the nest, all of the others having left to fight the wolves and Raenef's men. We were alone in this place of nightmares.
"Leonard, guard the door." Raenef's voice was a grim whisper. "Namir, I want you to cut down those cocoons, we need to see what's inside. Donovan… come with me."
The sad task of searching the body pile in the corner was left to us. We immediately found the two village boys at the top of the pile, broken and pitiful, completely drained of their blood. That was how the spidrens fed their young when they were too small to consume flesh, by giving them helpless victims to drink.
Beneath the boys we found the bodies of woodland creatures unfortunate enough to stumble into their webs. There were humans, but their bodies had decayed beyond all recognition. Blessedly, we found no more children.
I was crying when we finished, full of sadness and rage at the monsters who would do this. Raenef had to wipe his eyes clear of the tears threatening to fall. We were both sad at seeing so much suffering. Spidrens could keep the prey the chose to feed to their young alive for days. These pour souls had not died easily. But we were also full of relief that Melisande was not one of them.
"My lord!" Namir's voice brought us back to the center of the barn where he was cutting open a cocoon. It was the second hound, Somerled, barely alive and comatose.
We began to search the cocoons with a renewed vigor. We found two women, also in a coma-like state, and a handful of horses and cows. We set them aside with the woodland creatures we found for Nicola to look after.
My heart stopped when we found a small, child-sized cocoon high in the rafters. Namir climbed down slowly, treating it like a precious doll of porcelain. Raenef was waiting on the ground, his arms outstretched to take the bundle from the Bazhir when he was low enough. We held our breath as he carefully cut through the spidren silk with his dagger and gently pulled the little body free.
Melisande.
I sat down immediately to keep from falling, my knees weak with relief. Raenef fell to his knees beside me, clutching his daughter to his chest and weeping tears of joy. All was silent but for the soft whispers or Namir and Leonard as they sent a prayer of thanks to Mithros and the Mother Goddess.
I recovered enough to realize we needed help with her and the others. Turning, I looked outside to see the battle dying down. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted as loud as I could. "Healer! We need a healer!"
The next one to come wasn't a healer, but Nicola, leaping over the fallen spidrens and running at full wolf speed. She was covered with a handful of shallow cuts and one ear was missing, but all of that was forgotten as she raced to her husband's side. Somehow she managed to shift back to her human body and keep running, uncaring that she was naked and bleeding. Kneeling next to Raenef , she reached out to touch her daughter's face.
"My baby…" She began to weep as well, leaning heavily against Raenef as sobs shook her body. Namir quietly stepped up behind her to cover her with his cloak, but she hardly noticed the gesture.
The company's healer arrived soon after to look Melisande over, but she was virtually unharmed. A few shallow cuts and bruises scattered across her arms and shoulders were all that she had to show for her captivity. The healer knelt next to Nicola and reached out to touch her forehead to check for any signs of fever, but before he could Melisande's eyes opened wide and she began to scream.
"Mama! Papa!" Seeing her parents hovering at her side she immediately threw herself into her father's waiting arms, screaming and sobbing as she clung desperately to Raenef.
What she said after that I didn't understand. She fell back into Yamani, as she always did when frightened or upset, so the only Nicola and Raenef understood her. They immediately began to soothe and reassure her in the same language. The rest of us looked on anxiously, not understanding why she was crying and even worse, unable to reassure her. I made a quiet vow to myself to learn Yamani as quickly as I could.
Raenef's mage light shot past me from its place in the entryway to hover over the family and suddenly the barn was as bright as day. Soon after Melisande began to quiet, her screams fading into soft, hiccupping sobs. She refused to let go of her father, so he simply sat in the dirt with her and issued orders from there. Nicola reluctantly moved away from her husband and child to tend Somerled and the other rescued animals, pulling them out of their comas and healing whatever wounds they had.
Like Melisande, Somerled was relatively unhurt. He limped over to lay on the ground next to his master and shoved his nose under Melisande's hand, providing a soft, solid source of comfort for the terrified little girl. The company healer brought the two women out of their comatose state without much trouble. They were thin and dehydrated, but save for a broken arm for the younger woman they were unharmed.
Night passed quickly as I helped them men of the Own dig a mass grave for the bodies we had found. Other than the two boys from the village all of the corpses were decomposed beyond any recognition. We piled the spidren bodies inside the barn and set the entire building on fire. Company mages were posted around it to keep the fire from spreading to forest, and while it burned the rest of us were given the unsettling task of gathering up the bodies of the men we had lost. Most of them were in pieces.
Another mass grave was dug for the fallen soldiers and village men. By noon I was covered in dirt and blood and my clothes were soaked with sweat. My right arm was in a sling, held tight against my chest to prevent any movement, so using a shovel was nearly impossible. That limited me to helping carry bodies out of the forest. I was almost overwhelmed by the stench of rotting flesh and the thick smoke from the burning barn. Tying a wet handkerchief over my nose and mouth brought some relief, but there was no escaping it.
We didn't leave until it was almost sunset and rain clouds were darkening the skies. Stretchers were made out of saplings and tents to carry out the wounded, both human and animal. The barn was nothing more than a smoldering pile or burnt wood and ash, and after dousing it with countless buckets of water the mages deemed it safe to leave it unattended. As if agreeing, the clouds above opened and rain poured down in relentless sheets, thoroughly soaking the rubble and eradicating any remaining bits or daylight.
Melisande, riding in front of her father on his black warhorse, began to cry again. Raenef quickly cast a mage light so bright that it was like daylight, even in the downpour. She quieted almost immediately, but kept herself tightly tucked against him with her eyes fixed on her mother where she rode in front of them, unwilling to look out into the surrounding darkness.
I walked next to Namir, who had generously given his horse to one of the rescued women. She was an inexperienced rider so he had to hold the reins and lead it for her. Looking at Melisande as she cowered in her father's grasp, I turned to ask a question.
"Namir, what did Melisande say when she woke up?"
In his five years of living in a household where Yamani was the primary language, he had picked up enough of it to understand what he heard. He frowned as he answered. "She said: it's dark, too dark. Make it go away. Too dark."
"Dark?"
He nodded. "I spoke with the healer after he looked at her. The venom didn't put her to sleep as it did the others. She was awake the entire time she was in that damn cocoon."
It was a horrific thought indeed. Terrified and alone, Melisande had been left in complete darkness, not knowing if she would ever get out. I doubt I could have dealt with it myself, and trying to imagine what it must have been like for a five year old girl was appalling. I shook my head. "Gods…"
It was a miserable trek back to the manse. We were wet and it was almost impossible to see where we were going, but no one wanted to stop and camp. We just wanted to be away from that horrible place. I can't imagine what it was like for the poor men assigned to carry the litters with the bodies of the two little boys. I could hardly even look at the poor little mounds beneath the canvas shrouds. It made my heart ache.
I had seen battle before, many times. In my early years as the Shang Falcon I had often found work as a mercenary, as many Shang do. I was no stranger to death. But this was something new, something horrible. Innocent children had died, men had been murdered in the most horrific ways imaginable, and a little girl's heart had been broken. It was all just too sad.
We walked through the gates of the manse just before dawn, the pouring rain no more than a drizzle by then. Nicola took Melisande from Raenef, casting her own mage light, and took her inside to put her to bed. Raenef, tired and worn as he was, didn't waste time in going to meet the mothers of the two boys we had found. They been waiting in the main parlor with Agatha the entire time we had been gone. Hearing their anguished wails I hurried upstairs to my room, unwilling to face any more heartbreak. Stripping out of my drenched clothing, I collapsed on my bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
For the next three weeks Melisande didn't leave the mansion, shadowing her parents like a small puppy. When her father left to patrol or train with the Own she stayed with her mother, but when Raenef was home she was constantly at his side, one small hand clutching his pant leg or shirt sleeve. Her mother cast a long lasting light that hovered above her day and night. But even with that light she refused to sleep without one of her parents in the room with her, somehow always waking up whenever they tried to slip out quietly.
Eventually she expanded her trust to Agatha and myself, and then to Adish and Namir. But she always had to be with one of us.
It lasted for months, how many I don't remember. Slowly she began to spend time away from us, leaving the safety of our home's walls to venture out and play with the village children. Nicola no longer allowed her to go out of sight of the manse without one of us accompanying her, but for at least a year Melisande was terrified of the mere thought of entering the forest where she almost met her doom.
Time dulled the edge of her fear, burying it under the haze of memory, but it was never far beneath the surface. She was able to go without her mother's light once she learned to cast her own, and Nicola spelled a large chunk of crystal to emit a steady bright light for Melisande to keep with her at night. Dimly lit rooms made her nervous, but as long as there was a steady source of light she could keep herself calm. She always slept with her mother's stone or a long lasting candle next to her bed.
She moved on with her life, growing up into a fine young woman who would one day become a queen of legend. But her fear stayed with her, always looming, threatening to consume her. She would struggle with it all of her life. After all, she was only human.