MOONSTORM
Arian settled on a high ledge above the Spine. It had been several days since the fight with the dark creatures. Aelwyn had smoked the severed head to preserve it. The beast had put up a good fight, and while not the most exhausting or dangerous fight he had ever had, was certainly worthy of remembering.
Aelwyn sighed gently as he unstrapped the saddle from Arian's back and gently set it down before starting a fire. Arian flew off to hunt for their supper while he got a fire going. She returned just as the sun began to set with two deer.
While the deer cooked, Aelwyn inspected his trophy. The large, bulbous eyes of the creature were as big as his fist, the beak sharp and reminded him of that of a Raven, but much larger. Something about the creature stirred something in him. Not anger, but more a feeling of challenge, of chase. Of prey. He gave a soft grin as he ran his finger carefully over the dead eyes. They were so much like those of an insect. So strange.
You did a fine job, little one, said Arian as she crunched the bones of the deer. He looked up at her, her scales glittering in the fire and the last light of the setting sun. Her deep, silver eyes gazed at him. Those . . . things, had a vile feeling to them. Whatever they were, you did a fine job in slaying them. Aelwyn gave the softest smile.
Thank you, Arian, but I could not have done so well without you. Had it not been for you, tracking them would have been nigh impossible, and the fight would have been much more brutal. I doubt I would have escaped with almost no injury, had you not been there. She growled softly with satisfaction at this.
We are partners, you and I. We work together, as Rider and Dragon should. Aelwyn nodded as he returned the trophy to the small leather sack on Arian's saddle.
"Most certainly, my dearest friend. What would one be, without the other?" She gently nodded, a soft growl of agreement coming from her. With that, Aelwyn checked the deer and, finding it done, took some meat and unrolled the map.
Currently, they were camped in the Spine, just a little northeast of Teirm. With a stock of healing herbs, now they had set to gathering provisions of meat, which Aelwyn set to smoking and curing to store away. Arian was rather fond of meat smoked by wood from the Hazel tree, as it had a very nice flavor and smell that she found delicious. After their adventure tracking and slaying the dark creatures, they had decided to rest and just admire the lands.
So, we're just a little northeast of Teirm, right now, said Aelwyn mentally as he scanned the map with his eyes and took a small bite of roast deer. His eyes scanned the map near their location as Arian chewed her food, the bones crunching. The next location is a lake, "Fläm" by name. It doesn't show if there's a village near it or not, but we'll be cautious, anyway. Arian hummed in thought as she looked at the map over his shoulder.
After Fläm are Daret and Yazuac, both by the Ninor River, she observed. Aelwyn nodded as his eyes drifted further north.
"Hmm, Therinsford, Carvahall. Ceunon is the last place listed before the map stops to the north." Arian gave a very soft growl as her eyes flicked across the map.
There's also that large forest that covers the whole north of the map; "Du Weldenvarden". If we wish to remain unseen, we certainly could do so there, she commented. Aelwyn nodded as his eyes glanced around the map. Arian gave a soft huff as she settled. So, where do we wish to go, little one? Aelwyn looked at her, and smiled a soft smile.
"Everywhere, and nowhere. It's not the destination, but the journey." She hummed with satisfaction at his answer. Aelwyn rolled the map back up and set it in a pouch before partaking of some Hazel nuts and berries.
They both started when they heard a voice echo in the mountains.
"Put that out, you fools!" At first, Aelwyn thought someone had found their camp. Instead, the sound was floating up to them from somewhere below. Eyebrow raised, Aelwyn looked over the cliff, down below, and could see the golden glow of another campfire, in the forests below. Arian gave a soft growl as she came to the ledge, listening with Aelwyn. "You damn fools are going to give us away!" They looked at each other.
Hmm, this is interesting. Shall we investigate? he asked. Arian hummed and nodded.
Be careful, little one. We don't know who they are, or what they are doing here, she cautioned as he carefully mounted Arian, who flew him down to a tree near the fire, dropping him off in the branches without a whisper as they listened to the voices.
"You idiots are going to get us all caught!" the male voice hissed below. "You know what'll happen if we're caught with slaves? That brown bitch will have us hung!"
Slaves! Aelwyn mentally roared. Arian angrily fumed in her mind as they listened.
"Our scouts said the coast looks clear. That garrison was getting too close. In the morning, we take the merchandise out of the mountains. In the meantime, you dolts keep a low profile! You mess up like that again, and I'll skin you all! And I'm not joking on that!" Aelwyn was growling softly at this.
Slaves . . . Those disgusting, slimy, rotten . . . Aelwyn began to climb down, intent to charge into their camp, sword and spear drawn, and lay them all low, as he did the bandits.
Stop, little one!
Why?! Didn't you hear?! I'm not going to sit by and let these bastards-
Calm, little one. I can see a few more returning through the trees. You'd walk right into them.
Good! Then I can hurl their severed heads into the camp as a greeting gift! Arian softly growled in his mind.
Think, Aelwyn! With slaves in the camp, which they know they are not supposed to have, what do you think they will do if attacked? Kill the slaves, most likely. Add to that, in the dark, it is very possible they may be killed in the fight. Do you wish to harm the innocent, just to spill the slavers' blood? Aelwyn gave a soft huff from where he sat on a pine bough, looking down at the dark camp.
No, he replied. He felt soft feelings from her, along with her fury as well.
Also, this deep in these mountains, the slaves will have little chance of survival. I could carry, perhaps two humans at most. How would we get them all to safety? We cannot just charge in and start fighting, much as I would sorely desire to rend them limb from limb. No, little one. Fury must give way to caution and planning, here. Aelwyn looked into the dark, barely able to make out a few shapes in the dark. His heart chilled when he heard a little child cry out.
"Shut that brat up!" snarled a man's voice. Aelwyn trembled with fury at the sound, his grip on the branch tightening until the wood creaked.
Calm, little one. I understand your feelings. The fact there are hatchlings is another reason for caution. He felt her soft, tender thoughts caress his mind in comfort. Rest assured, when the time is right, we shall strike with ruthless purpose. Until them, we must watch and observe, and not be seen. The element of surprise is everything, here. Aelwyn glared into the dark, the golden flecks in his eyes glittering with fury, and purpose
When the slaves are safe, I'll make them suffer . . . he vowed to the dark.
XXX
The next day, Aelwyn and Arian carefully watched as the slavers began herding the slaves to the east, out of the Spine, and towards the huge plains. Aelwyn carefully stalked them like a hunter with prey on the ground, while Arian watched from the air, the two in constant contact, sharing every movement of their quarry as they carefully and quietly pursued.
The slavers stuck to the few trails there were, which, given their state and difficulty in finding, indicated that this trail was used by smugglers of contraband. Aelwyn was never out of sight distance from them, but, with his hunting skills, was never spotted. Arian also helped, keeping an eye on the group's movement, and also warning Aelwyn of when the slavers' hunting parties got too close to his position. The whole time, Aelwin was burning for a fight, wanting nothing more to disembowel those foul brigands and stick their heads on spears. More than once, he had found a smooth stone, perfect for his sling, and had to fight against the urge to fit it to his sling and hurl it at the skull of one of those bandits.
As it was, it took almost three days for the slavers to herd the slaves out of the Spine. By that time, Aelwyn was nearly foaming at the mouth to kill the slavers. The times he had heard or seen them strike one of the slaves, especially the children, his blood boiled.
I can't stand this, anymore, Arian! They must pay! Aelwyn mentally snarled as he stormed back and forth in their small camp, huffing and growling like a caged lion as he stomped his feet with every step, fury and anger boiling in him. Arian watched him calmly, though she understood his anger.
Calm, little one. He glared at her.
Calm?! How can I be calm?! Haven't you seen what they have been doing?! That bastard hit that little girl with chains! Chains, Arian! I'm amazed she's not dead or crippled! He's going to be last! First, I'll beat him with chains! Then, I'll break both his feet, and make him crawl! Then, I'll bite off all his fingers, and make him drink his own blood! THEN, I'll skin him alive and nail him to a tree in the hot sun!
Aelwyn! Enough! she roared. Aelwyn scowled at her. That is not your way, little one. I know you, and even against such filth as them, I know you would not do anything Dishonorable as that. You're better than them. At that, Aelwyn took a deep breath, and sighed. She hummed gently as she stood, moving over and settling softly behind him, curling her tail around him and nuzzling him.
You're right. I'm sorry I snapped at you. It just infuriates me what they're doing. Arian hummed as she nuzzled him.
I understand, little one. Tonight, we must warn the slaves. Then, tomorrow . . . Aelwyn grinned, showing sharp teeth as warrior glee flowed through him.
. . .We strike . . .
XXX
The slavers met with their associates on the plains at the base of the mountains, and loaded the slaves into three large wagons, pulled by horses. The new men were armed with bows, and looked ready for a fight. They traveled north until nightfall, when they pitched camp.
That night, it was dark, as clouds covered the nearly-full moon. The slaves huddled together in the wagon, bound with chains and held by bars of iron. There was a strained quiet, broken only by the sound of a light wind, blowing from the west. The cloth that covered the wagon fluttered in the wind, admitting some of the cold breeze.
"Don't be afraid," whispered a voice. Several of them jumped at the voice. In what tiny light there was, they could make out a figure.
"Who are you?" asked a woman. She was middle-aged, but had a great depth of wisdom in her eyes, as well as fear.
"One who would help you," replied the voice with an accent they had never heard.
"How do we know you aren't one of them?" asked a man. There was a soft chuckle in reply.
"If I was, wouldn't you have heard my voice?" The slaves murmured at this. "Listen, my partner and I are going to free you, but you all have to work with us, if we're to succeed and get you all out alive." The woman looked at the dark form of the man, and came closer.
"What would you have us do?" she asked.
XXX
The next day, the slavers took the slaves further northwards, being careful to stay close to the base of the mountains, and not be seen in the open. This was made easier by the fact that the sky was filled with gray clouds, some laying low on the Spine as rain pattered softly off and on. All the while, they kept a careful lookout for any signs they were being pursued or watched. They had no idea they indeed were being observed, their watchers hidden in the forests of the Spine, waiting for the right moment to strike. They rested only briefly, and kept moving into the night as the storm, rains and mists hid them from view. At least, they thought they did. The small caravan moved as if they were trying to move through the lands they were in as quickly as possible. As it was, they were never expecting an attack, let alone one from the air.
As the full moon lit the clouds above, a deafening roar shook the very ground. The slavers looked up, and saw a great, winged form silhouetted against the clouds, eyes flashing silver.
"Dragon!" a man screamed in terror as they spurred and whipped their horses into gallops.
"Melltithio ar chi!" bellowed a voice as a form seemed to swoop and landed on the back of the lead wagon with a thump. Panic ensued, as the slavers tried to fight and flee. One of the slavers screamed as he was cut down by a flashing spear, another was smashed and knocked off the rolling wagon to be crushed under the heavy wheels as the terrified horses thundered on.
"Kill that thing!" yelled one of the slavers as he drew a bow, only to be swept up in powerful jaws and bitten in half before he could loose an arrow. Others managed to get some shots off at the shadowy figure, only to have them blocked by a shield. The dragon roared again, horses screaming and bolting as the whole line descended into pandemonium. Men died left and right as they were set upon. Then, the clouds cleared from the full moon, revealing the form of their attacker. It was a young man, with long red-brown hair, bearing a shield and spear.
"Kill that brat, damn you!" yelled the leader as he spurred his horse to intercept the wagons. The youth killed the driver of the wagons, then tried to reign in the terrified horses, who refused to calm, and continued their wild flight of panic. With a growl, he tried to sever the yoke that held the wagons to the terrified team of horses, but before he could, the slaver leader hurled a spear, which he only just barely blocked with his round shield. The youth again swiped at the yoke, and again. "Ugh, die, damn you!" the man shouted.
"Ladies, first!" the youth taunted back with a smirk as he swept his spear at the man's head, who only barely ducked. The youth swung again at the yoke, this time finally breaking it, the team of horses thundering off. The slaves screamed and yelled in fear as the wagons jumped and bounced. The dragon roared again as it killed two slavers who tried to hit it with arrows.
"Bollocks to this! I'm not fighting a dragon!" yelled one of the men as they spurred their horses to flee. That was when they all heard the sound of a war horn. The men paled.
"Urgals!" they yelled. The leader looked up, and was not able to see the youth leap at him and tackle him from his horse to the ground. They landed roughly, grunting with anger and pain as they landed and exchanged blows.
"Ugh! Filthy brat!" the man yelled as he knocked the young man back, drawing his sword and raising it for a killing blow. He was shocked when the youth caught his right hand, stopping his blow, then delivered a powerful punch to the bottom of the man's elbow, the joint snapping loudly, the man screaming in agony. The young man kicked him back and down to the ground, just as the great dragon soared down and landed behind him. The slaver looked up, and saw not only his right palm shining silver, but his eyes flashing silver with specks of gold, the full moon shining behind him as thunder rumbled in the distance.
The sounds of yells and new roars brought their attention up as a group of tall, gray-skinned being with curled horns rode up upon large horses, roaring and yelling as they brandished weapons. The young man snapped up his spear and shield and ran to stand between the wagons and the newcomers, who were quickly killing the slavers who had tried to escape.
Aelwyn held his ground against these new beings. Such a race he had never seen before. They had horns that curled like those of mountain goats, skin as gray as steel, and glittering golden eyes. Some of them were huge, taller than even his spear. They spoke in a language he had never heard, but he could only hope he could threaten them off, rather than having to fight them all. Arian stood behind him, wings flared in a threat display, teeth bared. He held his shield forward and spear at the ready. He watched as they rode down the slavers with ease, then turned their attention to him. He could hear the slaves crying out behind him.
"Urgals!"
"We're doomed!
"Gods help us!" they wailed in fear, a child crying could be heard. He growled, low in his throat as he held his ground.
"Stop! These people are under my protection! Leave them and live! Stay and die!" he yelled in anger, hoping they understood Silthían. As it looked like a fight was inevitable, a new, powerful voice rang out.
"Kaz jtierl trazhid!" yelled the deep, guttural voice as a very large one of them with huge horns and massive muscles approached. Aelwyn was surprised when the others moved to let him pass, and even seemed to bow their heads. He recognized the respect given to a Chieftain when he saw it. "Who are you?" the tall being asked. Aelwyn stood firm as he replied.
"I am Aelwyn ap Rhydderch!" he replied with as much power as he could muster. Arian gave a soft growl behind him.
"I am Nar Garzhvog, and you are on our lands, stranger!" replied the powerful leader.
"For this I apologize, but these vile beasts were keeping these people as slaves. It was not my intent to intrude on your lands, but these people needed aid. I ask you and your people to let me take them from here. Try to harm them, and you must face me!" Aelwyn replied without any fear.
They will face us, Arian corrected as she bared her teeth. The other Urgals seemed to shrink back a bit at Arian's growl, their horses nervously nickering. Nar Garzhvog merely smiled at this, seeming amused.
"Peace, Dragon Rider. We wish you, nor your dragon harm. And we shall not harm those whom these filth held." Nar Garzhvog then said something to the others, and a pair dismounted and grabbed the terrified lead slaver and none too gently picked him up. The Urgal leader then looked at Aelwyn, who stood normally, but still kept his spear ready. As he looked at him and Arian, lightning flashed in the sky, the light of the full moon making them both seem to glow. Some of the Urgals began speaking in their own tongue. Nar Garzhvog smiled and replied.
"What are they saying?" Aelwyn asked. Nar Garzhvog seemed amused.
"They are calling you 'Moonstorm'," replied the Urgal Chief. At this, Arian hummed.
A fitting title, she mused. With this, Aelwyn finally went to the wagons and uncovered the cages, revealing the frightened faces of the people.
"Do not fear, the slavers are dead. And these people have given me their word you will not be harmed," said Aelwyn. They looked at him in surprise.
"But . . . they're Urgals!" a man replied. Aelwyn quirked an eyebrow, and glanced at Nar Garzhvog.
"They may not be human, but they have shown the courtesy to not attack you or me. Does that not count for anything?" They were silent, a few murmuring fearfully as Nar Garzhvog came over and looked at them, his powerful brows creasing in a frown.
"Shame and dishonor," said the mighty Urgal. He looked at Aelwyn. "If you bring them to our village, Moonstorm, we shall remove their chains." Aelwyn smiled at this, and looked to Arian, who hummed her agreement as she hooked the broken yoke with a few of the spikes along her tail and easily pulled the wagon train. Aelwyn smiled as he turned to Nar Garzhvog.
"Lead the way," he replied.
XXX
Aelwyn watched as the Urgal smith carefully used a hammer, chisel and large cutters to remove the chains and collars the slaves wore. The Urgal lodges were warm and comfortable. In so many ways, they reminded him of his home, and their way of building was more familiar than the human ones he had encountered so far.
The Urgals had, if anything, greeted him and Arian more warmly than any had thus far. Their tribal way of life felt so familiar to him. Aelwyn was particularly warmed by how the female Urgal smith was very gentle when she cut the collar of a small girl, who quickly ran to her mother. Aelwyn could see the loving sparkle in the Urgal dam's eye, the look of a mother herself. Arian hummed softly from where her head was wedged in the door to the smithy.
With this, the smith set her hammer down and smiled.
"Free," said the large Urgal woman. The other Urgals grunted and nodded. Aelwyn smiled softly, his heart light and warm to see the people freed. All in all, they had freed forty slaves in total, and, thank the Gods of his people, none had been killed or hurt. The older woman he had spoken to hugged her daughter, then looked at him, eyes brimming with tears.
"I don't know how we can thank you, Artgetlam," she said. The others murmured similar things to him. Aelwyn smiled and gently shook his hands.
"I need no thanks or reward. I go where the winds and tides of the world take me," he replied. The freed people stared at him, and Nar Garzhvog chuckled, his huge arms crossed over his huge chest.
"The words of a true Warrior, Moonstorm," said the large Kull, what Aelwyn had learned he was. He then turned his attention to the gathered humans. "This storm will not be letting up for some days. Until it clears, you may stay here, and we will give you food and shelter. Some of my Kull managed to capture some of the slavers' horses, and you may use them when it clears to leave. We will send word ahead for you." He then turned to Aelwyn and grinned. "But before then, we will celebrate!" At this Arian hummed and Aelwyn returned the grin of Nar Garzhvog.
