I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
Enjoy,


The Spine

For the rest of the day they rode along the undulating road, through towns and hamlets and past lone farmhouses. Some places were as devastated as the hamlet they had rested in, while others seemed untouched. But over everything was an obscurity: they frequently saw derelict structures, last autumn's harvests lying blighted in the fields, and stray dogs wandering the foothills in search of food. Everywhere were the signs of coming famine, and in every town there were beggars, turning toward them in a plea for alms.

As they pressed closer The Spine, they passed an entire family who were heading to a town with all their possessions piled on a wagon drawn by bullocks. Children sat at the back, their feet dangling, bickering shrilly. The few men and women stared hungrily ahead, as if they already despaired of the hope that had brought them to the road. One of the men, Rose noticed, wore no shoes and his feet were bleeding. They also passed single travelers, on foot or horseback, loaded down with heavy packs.

These were hard sights to bear, and Rose, Ailis and Tornac spoke less and less as the day wore on, tacitly agreeing to camp far from the road before night came. As dusk deepened they voyaged off the road and trekked through the piles of sodden snow to a small overhanging of a huge oak in the distance. When the sky had darkened completely and they ate a uninspiring meal of tough bread and dried meat, Thorn landed close by and swiftly greeted them before laying down protectively, staring ahead towards the road. They kept watch in shifts, but heard nothing more sinister than a weasel freckled with winter's pallid fur, which Thorn terrorized by growling threateningly at it, watching merrily as it shrilled in fear and scattered for cover. The following evening they made camp under around a rock face with a slight overhang and again they slept in shifts, and again they saw and heard nothing.

In the following days they rode hard through the patching woods and farmlands and into the mountain pass. The weather began to clear, but there was a deathly chill in the air each night.

As they traveled, Ailis passed the time by teaching Rose the alphabet and structure of the Ancient Language but never the words of the tongue. She taught of the mysteries, and of its peculiar histories, of the language's purpose and principles, of the behavior of wild birds, and the properties of plants. Rose was also told of the different legends about the appearance of on the content of the Grey Folk, and how none were agreed on their origins. Ailis did not mention dragons or the reticent elves that resided in Du Weldenvarden at all. By listening to these forms of knowledge, and beginning to understand them, made the present seem all the more real. After the shock of Thorn's hatching and all the events that had preceded it- everything that had happened since leaving Urû'baen- she wished that they were merely journeying, and not on this urgent quest. She pushed away the thought of being a Dragon Rider and all the important words and responsibilities that seemed to have nothing to do with her.

Most evenings, as Tornac slowly regained his strength, they drew out their swords and spared together. Rose learned in these days how to fight together with a partner and how to defend against two different blades. More often than not Ailis and Tornac teamed together against Rose and she pressed harder than before, and soon she learned to rely on Thorn, who watched them intensely from the sidelines and warned her of their trickier plays when he saw fit, allowing her a short moment to raise her sword in attempt to block the assault.

At noon on the seventh day on the dirt path, they entered the pass through the Spine and arrived in Ludène late that night, passing through the town to a small inn, where for one wonderful night they ate, bathed, and slept in comfortable beds. And then they were on the road again, before the sun crept over the horizon, pursuing their journey west.

The sun was beginning to tinge the horizon with dull reds and ochers as they passed through a less inhabited region dotted only with solitary shepherd huts. After a couple of hours the road wound close to the towering white crags of The Spine. There they slowed down and trotted through dripping trees, hearing only the sound of birdsong of the dull clop of the horses' hooves.

Rose was running through the alphabet of the Ancient Language, she had learned in the past days. It passed the time, and the soft cadence of the horses' hoofs crushing the dwelling snow melded into the rhythm of letters.

She was jolted out of her contemplations by Thorn, who was circling so high above them he resembled a vulture, watching their proceedings. Two and three have been following you, he told her. They carry stringed curved sticks.

Rose glanced behind her and after seeing only the forsaken road she looked up at the sky and sought after the faint outline that was Thorn. I don't see a soul. How far behind are they? She asked.

Not far. They travel off the path.

Have they been following us long? Rose ran her fingers over the worn leather reins, picking at the reedy creaks with her nails.

I first saw them when the sun turned the sky to fire, Thorn said. I have been watching them.

Why did you not say anything about them before?

I was in doubt they followed you, now I am not.

She breathed out loudly and turned her head back to the road. She studied the Ailis' straight, unbending back for a short moment. "We're being pursued," said Rose dourly. Both Ailis and Tornac whipped their heads around and studied the road behind them. "They are off the road, traveling around the trees. Thorn says that there are five of them and that they are armed."

"How far behind are they?" asked Tornac.

Rose quickly repeated the question to Thorn, and when he answered she said, "Not far."

"Do they mean harm, I wonder," Ailis mussed, almost to herself. "It seems rather possible. You say we have been followed, but for how long?"

"Thorn said that he first saw them at sunrise."

"For so long," Ailis said thoughtfully, fingering the hilt of her sword, looking into the woodland surrounding them.

For a moment they all stared at each other, the same thought in all their minds. Then they pushed their horse on so sharply Eowyn stumbled, and began to ride through the path. The road was straight before them, and Lanorgrim stretched flat into a full gallop. Shadowless began to fall behind, and Tornac roughly commanded him forth, and the blackened horse bolted with a new speed. Now they were bolting down the road; Lanorgrim was still ahead of them, but the gap between Shadowless and Eowyn was no longer growing.

Rose leaned forward in the saddle, the wind of their speeding lashed her hair into her mouth, and she tried desperately to spit it out. A whirring sound like a large bee, and a thock, as if something hit wood, echoed over the loud clomping the horse's hooves as they clouted heavily against the earth. She had time to reflect that she had heard the sound before, and that she didn't like it, when she heard it again; then she felt a sharp edge rend across the skin of her arm, she gasped as the pain tingled up into her shoulder. Without command the horses plunged into a mad gallop, and Ailis was shouting, "Down! Arrows! Lay your head down!"

She obeyed instinctively, hiding her face against Eowyn's neck, and hung on desperately as Eowyn dashed wildly, trying to keep up the Lanorgrim. She realized that she must have been hit by an arrow, and was grateful it didn't spear her. She dared to look back once and saw nothing through the trees.

You hurt? Thorn asked in agitation. Rose could feel his fury in her mind, twisting and coiling like black smoke.

Not badly, she said. Where are they?

Hidden. I can no longer see them.

Keep high, Thorn, I don't want them to see you. She told him, as they wound in a loop around the trees. Thorn sent her his displeasure, but kept in the heights of the sky so that he was hidden only by distance.

The horses slowed down to a canter, and then, as they reached a place where a large rocky shelf butted out of the woods, Ailis halted them with a signal of her hand, her face grave and alert. She led them to the rock, and they stood there, their backs to the stony wall, which stretched upward for about fifteen feet before ending with a slight overhang. Rose could hear the sound of horsemen pursuing them, approaching both along the road and through the trees, cutting through the loop of the road.

"We cannot race on wildly, with such pursuit," said Ailis, drawing her bow out from behind her back and notching it with a feathered tipped arrow. "We will have to stand here. At the least they cannot come up behind us."

"There are five of them and only three of us. We're outnumbered," said Rose fearfully.

"However, we are not outmatched," Tornac said, his sword resting across his lap. "Best draw your sword, Rose. Remember what you have been taught in order to defend yourself. It is always smarter not to have to fight at all but if it comes down to it, don't be afraid of running away."

Rose scoffed at the thought of fleeing, it seemed a rather cowardly act to her.

"And not to overestimate what you handle," she said, "I haven't forgotten, Tornac."

Feeling for her sword, Rose looked at her arm were the arrow had grazed her; it was a long slanting cut that had already ceased bleeding, and she fingered it tenderly cringing as it burned and tingled from the movement. When her fingers grasped the bedecked hilt, she tugged the blade out noiselessly and looked towards the twisting road. Ailis sat beside her patiently, as still as stone, a long shining arrow drawn back tensely ready to sail through the air at a moment's notice. Tornac was shifting uneasily on Shadowless, staring ahead at the bend in the road with watering eyes. His was face pale and withdrawn.

It seemed that their pursuers would never come, but nevertheless a stout figure came trotting around the bend, and then another. They bore arrows set in bows and were cloaked in thick bronzed pelts. It seemed as if the men did not see them at first, as they looked around into the trees going slowly now as they hunted. Another horse came over the mound and joined them. Then the stout man, who seemed to the leader, looked up and sighted them, laughing he waved his fellows over. The horsemen let down their bows and trotted at their leisure toward them. Rose began to feel terror screwing up inside her like a vice, and she glanced about looking for the fifth and final rider, when she did sight him she contacted Thorn.

You say there are five, correct? Rose asked him, not taking her eyes off the advancing horsemen.

I did.

I see only four. Can spot the fifth or is he still hidden from you?

Thorn snorted and there was a short pause. Not hidden, lingering behind. Be careful. I do not like this.

Rose did not break off their mind-touch, as she had done before, and adjusted her hold on the hilt of her sword nervously, watching as the men advanced.

When they were about thirty feet away, Tornac shouted indignantly, in the accent of the south. "What were you shooting for? You could of killed us. I'm going to complain to the authorities, I am."

The leading rider halted. "You could go squawking all you like, old man." His voice was raspy, as if he had spent a night too many slumbering in a bed of blowing sand. "A ghost in the wind for all the good it might do you." The three men behind put their arrows to the string, and Rose looked desperately at Ailis, who was lowering her bow, her face expressionless.

Tornac's face hardened, his scar twisting into his face, and he tightened his grip on his sword. "I can go into the wood if I want, without being chased and murdered, by the likes of you."

"Death is the price for insolence," said the man. "But we will merciful, and give you a choice. You can hand over your goods, all your goods, if you be getting my meaning," he nodded meanfully in Ailis' and Rose direction, "and we will let you live." He laughed, and the men moved closer to them.

Tornac scowled so deeply his lips disappeared and for a moment his face twisted in anger but his irritation faded quickly, and he took on a look of a dim-witted man with a slacken jaw and wide eyes.

"I have nothing to give, sirs," said Tornac. "Just on my own business is all, not asking for trouble, I am."

"Allow me to show you what you have," the leading man said with a laugh, he lifted his bow.

The man loosed an arrow straight at Ailis, and Rose's heart almost failed her, in her mind she could fell as Thorn as dived toward them. Before she knew what happened, the arrow exploded in flames and fell to smoldering ashes on the ground before them.

The leading man stopped in surprise, and cursed passionately as two of his followers turned bolted toward the trees. At that second Ailis stretched her hand out before her and cried out, "Jeirda Kuistar!" and a bolt of mauve light arched from her fingers to the branches above escaping the men. The branches made a deafening fracturing noise as they fell to the ground, knocking the two men from their horses and onto the ground, where they lay unmoving.

Thorn, no! Rose shouted in mind, suddenly remembering that he was plunging toward the ground. Stay to the sky and don't let them see you.

Thorn sent her a wave of fury, so mighty that she nearly toppled off the side her horse.

Rose was able to right herself quick enough to witness the other two men spur on their horses and charge at them. Tornac raised his sword steadily outwards close to Shadowless' thick neck, the horse lifted his head and neighed in apprehension. Ailis lifted her hands again, crying out as she did so, and there was a blast of light it hit one of the men and he fell, his horse bolted wildly off through the trees. Ailis swayed dizzily, her face slowly draining of its color, before straightening herself. She seemed to Rose taller and more regal, her face stern and grim, but her eyes illuminated with a strange wildness, almost in joy. The last man halted the horse and hung back, before hastily releasing an arrow above them, then he roughly commanding the horse away and into the woods. Before he dashed out of sight, Ailis stretched out her arms, and a purple light struck the man. He toppled off his horse and fell to the ground, died.

Tornac leapt off his horse in a debonair manner, effortlessly and lithe, and silently walked over the dead men. Overcoming a shudder of horror, Rose followed him with her eyes. The men lay twisted under their hide cloak. Tornac lifted the edge of one of the cloaks with his boot, and whistled lowly before turning to Ailis.

"I recall you saying that you no longer performed such actions. What happened?" he asked.

Ailis grimaced. "I suppose it best explained in saying that I had an elapse in my temper."

"No doubt," Tornac said dryly. "I will take care not to anger you in the future!"

"We should leave this place," said Rose warily, shifting on top of Eowyn. "I'd rather the fifth person didn't show face."

Tornac looked over and studied Rose's face gravely, and Rose stared back impassively, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Yes, we do not want to wish the same fate on him as his companions have met. And we would detest for you to have more blood on your hands, Ailis."

Ailis laughed severely. "How very humorous you are, Tornac," she said. "Shall we go, or shall we tally and hunt down this last rider?"

"Go, I'm thinking. I would like to be far from this place by nightfall," said Tornac, returning to Shadowless. He stoked the horse's proud neck, which was rimed with sweat, before mounting. Without out any further word, they pressed forward, galloping swiftly through the woods. The shadow of branches passed over them like ripples in a hurried stream.

They did not stop until midafternoon, passing out of the woods on the other side of The Spine into empty grassland in which sometimes there was evidence of a farm long ago abandoned: a row in trees which once made a wind block, or orchard grown wild, and remains of a house, its roof collapsed and walls crumbing overgrown with ivy or moss. The snow had melted away, revealing tussocks of soft grass, dried strands of reed, and feathery purpled heather, which perfumed the air with its sweet smelling nectar. Rose breathed the smell in deeply, even in Urû'baen such an aroma had never been captured, there had been craftsmen who would boil down these heathers to liquid and bottle them for profit. She remembered that she had an oblong green glassed bottle filled with the musty scent back in her former chambers, but it was a disgracw in comparison the wildland's unbound fragrance.

Rose was still shaky with the aftershock of their battle and the deeds Ailis had preformed, and the strange expression that she saw on the woman's face. It was a savage lust for blood, Rose knew this now. She had seen it once before many years ago but it was a hard sight to forget. Although she was moved by no pity for the men, she felt again that proverbial fear that nagged her throughout her childhood. But she flinched away from these thoughts, and concentrated on keeping up with Tornac and kept her hearing alert for any signs of pursuit, as she had given up on speaking with Thorn who was in a foul mood, but she heard nothing.

They had gone about twenty miles with at last Ailis called a halt. They lunched hastily in a miserable corpse of trees. As soon as Rose dismounted placing her feet on the ground, the ground swallowed her bottoms of her boots in the blackened, sticky, moss covered mud, Thorn dived out of the sky and landed fiercely in front of them, his wings half raised. He grumbled angrily and his tail pounded against the ground, causing the horses to whinny and scatter back in fright. Incensed by Thorn behavior and lack of response throughout the day, Rose struggled to calm Eowyn by messaging her silky neck to get her to calm down, before she turned to Thorn, she had never seen him this angry. What is troubling you?

Thorn thumped his tail into the soft ground and gave her a fierce look, his red eyes scintillating like flames. He grumbled deeply within his bulk and transmitted to her in their mind-touch the events of the day how he had perceived them from far above the ground. His emotions were strong and genuine, and Rose reeled from their intensity as she offend did when spoke in this way. After a short moment, she was able to identify what was riling him most, and she almost felt like laughing.

Is that all? she told him. It is but a scratch, Thorn, no need to fret so. And please use your words next time, it takes less time for me to identify the matter.

Crouching close to the mossy ground, with his length hovering just above the green, Thorn grumbled at her once more. I am not worried about the scratch, he said.

What then? Rose asked. I am tiring of these riddles and words games. For once just tell me.

Thorn blinked but returned no answer, instead he turned away and watched the horizon, his tail brandishing across the mixture of grass and moss.

Rose heaved a sigh and sat down close to Tornac, looking up into the lofty trees, watching as the tattered chandeliering moss swung in the sultry breeze. Grimacing as a considerably sized colorless spider crawled out from the tangled strands and crawled up the stock, she glanced down at the sodden road. The road bordered a crumbling stone wall, about seven or ten feet high, and they were now riding westward alongside it. Ailis said the Westwall ran for leagues, marking a forgotten city that was ravaged by sickness and an ancient war, protecting and memorializing the crypts from the wildlands beyond. "These is another reason the wall is there, of course," said Ailis, "Some believe the land itself to cursed and the wall is there to protect us from any dismayed specters that wish to display their wrath from a untimely and brutal death. I wouldn't worry too much about it, it is but a tale to frighten young children so that they might think twice before wandering over its crumbling walls to explore."

About five miles on they found a huge, woody ivy that forced apart the stones, and the tick wall had collapsed into rubble. Rose slowed down, so look over a landscape even more inundated and green then the one they traveled on: low scrubs of leatherleaf and sweet gale and labrador tea, under which a dense carpet of peat mosses broken only by woody stems and small cranberries and round-leafed sundew. Through the walled in peatland ran trickling streams that connected into the muddled water of the Toark River, and in distance Rose saw a darker vegetation of trees running its length. Above them were huge swags of swirling gray clouds that besieged the blue of the sky, and the air was turning thick and chilly, presaging more rain. The sun was low in the sky, bleeding long streaks of dull lavender along the horizon. Rose thought of the presently silent Thorn and looked for him the distance of the darkening heavens. After a short moment she found a gleaming stain below the cloudcover and shaking her head, Rose gently instructed Eowyn forth, and they trotted quickly to Tornac's side, where they rode on in silence, too tired to talk.

The rain held off and they continued down the widening path, trailing past long green beards of river weed. They followed the Toark, which bent lazily away from the peatland and flooded along the side of the deteriorating wall. The followed the road even after night fall, guided by the light of the full moon, until the horse stumbled from wariness with their heads dropped. Then at last Ailis called then to a halt, and they made a cheerless camp with no fire, as it was far too damp for a fire, under an old willow.

Rose was so tired she had trouble going to sleep. She ached all over and her mind was humming like a harp string on the verge of breaking. She lay awake and looked into the sky. The moon was now vanishing under the shroud of dark clouds, and she could smell rain in the wind. That night Thorn did not arrive until the early grey hours of the morning.

For little over a week they traveled over the moors, following the course of the river toward Teirm, and when possible keeping off the road as close as possible to the trees. They saw no woodland animals of any kind, but heard prattling crickets and croaking frogs or the harsh cry of an eagle high above. They now traveled with haste, despite them puffing and tugging the mulish horses through the slowing bogs on foot. After the first day they were covered head to toe in the sticking mud, and Rose felt as if there were ants crawling over her skin, and she wondered how long this pointless struggle off road would continue.

On the third day a strange sultry warmth crept in and by midmorning they traveled without their jerkins. But the wind was content: pushing a blinding smudge of fog inland from the river, whistling ceaselessly through the reeds and trees. The endless greens and yellows began to fill Rose's mind with a stupor of boredom. She was troubled by an itching rash and the distance in which Thorn was forced to travel, distant from them and sleeping away in dingy tree sheltered valleys. The silence forced by miles apart grew oppressive each day, until Rose began to wonder if she could continue to bear it.

At night they camped without fire, huddling against the chill, which fell heavily as soon as the sun set, and they spoke quickly to each other forsaking practice in swordcraft as the ground was far too sticky and feeling that the loud clinging of swords would echo for miles, drawing villagers attention to them. On the third night in the moors, Ailis consented to Rose's entreaties for a fire. It was a laborious task on the damp ground as the wood wouldn't catch and whenever a feeble flame began to leap from the wood, the wind would blow it out. When the flame had died for the fourth time, Rose asked Ailis why she wouldn't use magic. Crossly she said, "I will not use magic at my whim, like a cheap magician doing tricks for children."

Rose subsided, puzzled, and at last Ailis got a fire going, and they had a hot meal for the first time since leaving Ludène. Ailis made an herb tea that warmed Rose down to her toes, and some of the itching left her skin.

"I still do not understand why we travel off road," said Rose. "Wouldn't one take notice of mud-spattered strangers struggling through the muck, instead of traveling on a well used roadway?"

"They might, if they knew what to look for. We travel far enough from the road so that few should notice us," Ailis said, sounding exhausted. She pointed in the direction of the shadowed over road that nestled into the side of the hill, some five miles away. "Traveling the road would make just as, if not more, noticeable. Unless I am off by my reckoning, by afternoon tomorrow we shall be forced to rejoin the road if we are to travel towards Teirm."

"Are we not going into Teirm?"

"No, I know of a farmer and his wife who shall be willing to house us for a few days. Afterwards, I will travel to Teirm and send a message south. Sleep now, Rose. We cannot go far if our eyes are not open," Ailis replied.

Nodding, Rose bid her good night stumbling into her bedroll and lay down, looking at the disheveled branches above her as they glowed in the in the moon light. With an obscure feeling of dread, Rose picked far in the distance a white point of light, a tiny but shining star, thinking that it would nice to sleep under a different roofing instead of that of only stars.