Chapter 19: Call Of The Wild

Elizabeth had never seen anyone run as fast as Darcy did.

She hadn't recognised the sound Darcy had heard, until she later saw his horse nearby, agitated. It was the horse's alarmed neighing that had first pricked Darcy's ears. She had been able to keep up when he simply increased his speed while climbing, but when Darcy had broken into a sprint, Elizabeth could only watch his fading back as she struggled to keep up.

Elizabeth clambered over the last rocks and pulled herself up over the precipice. The land before her was bare and wind-scarred, rising gradually towards the pale peaks on the horizon. Nearby were patches of heather and mountain grass, but nothing taller than a man's ankle.

Yet strangely, in the mid-distance was what appeared to be a wood, its lush trees standing calmly against the battling wind.

Though out of breath from the climb, Elizabeth pushed herself forward into a run. Fortunately, she was now not very far from the scene of chaos.

When Elizabeth had them close in her sight, she saw that Wickham had his sword drawn, expression deadly, and was running backwards. Darcy was shouting somewhere ahead of her. In front of Darcy, Lydia ran towards Wickham, not glancing back. Over the howl of the wind, Elizabeth could vaguely make out the grunts and animal growls emanating from Lydia.

Darcy made it to his target before Lydia made it to hers. Elizabeth saw Darcy throw himself at Lydia, bringing her down. Dropping his sword, Wickham ran towards the pair, as did Elizabeth.

Breath knocked out of her, Lydia lay on the ground, dazed. Darcy made a high-pitched sound, and his horse trotted to him.

By the time Elizabeth got to them, Darcy's knee was on Lydia's back, and Wickham had obtained some rope under a bundle on the horse and was tying Lydia's hands behind her.

"This rope is easily more useful than my sword," Wickham commented. "I have never been more relieved to see you, Darcy."

"Now you see how useful I can be," Darcy responded dryly.

"Lydia?" Elizabeth gasped. Lydia growled at her, making an incomprehensible hissing sound, and Elizabeth stepped backward in horror and revulsion.

Wickham and Darcy wound the rope around Lydia's waist as well as her wrists, so that when finally she rose to her feet, she could move forward only against the pull of her leash. Perhaps ten minutes or more passed as Lydia struggled, fighting against her bondage. Finally, she tempered herself, and looked at Darcy with unusually wide eyes. "Warrior, are you no longer my friend? I was only teasing him…" Wickham snorted loudly at that, but Lydia ignored him. "Lizzy, aren't you going to make them unhand me?"

"I'm still bound to protect you," Darcy said seriously. "But from here, there must be less teasing and less haste. I think that rope shall stay for a whole longer."

"Don't strain against the rope Lydia, and it won't hurt you," Elizabeth said, trying to soothe her sister. She couldn't bear to see Lydia tied up like an animal, but understood without needing to be told that the risk was too much to have Lydia free to attack any one of them.

"We need a plan," Wickham whispered.

Darcy motioned for silence, and quietly led Lydia towards the woods. The rope obliged Lydia to adopt a gait much like that of a mule. She pulled and pulled, occasionally managing several steps at a run before the rope jerked her to a halt. Elizabeth and Wickham walked behind in silence, with Elizabeth taking the reigns of the horse.

The trees were near now and Darcy tugged Lydia back. "Slowly, Lydia. Courage alone is not enough in this strange grove." He turned back to speak to Elizabeth and Wickham. "Look there. Pine trees at this height's no mystery, but aren't those oaks and elms beside them?"

"Does it matter what trees grow here, or what birds fly these skies? She will soon kill us all!" Wickham hissed angrily.

"Have faith," Elizabeth said quietly. "We all did not survive so much, and come this far for naught. The more you turn away from her, the more she will come at you."

"Cold comfort that is," Wickham responded.

They entered the wood and the ground changed beneath them. There was soft moss, nettles, even ferns. The leaves above them were dense enough to form a ceiling, so that for a while they wandered in a grey half-light. Yet this was no forest, for soon they could see before them a clearing with its circle of open sky above it. It seemed to Elizabeth almost that the intention of the trees was to conceal whatever lay ahead.

Meanwhile, Lydia was still pulling angrily at the rope. "Why are you dallying? You're just old, tired, and afraid," she taunted Darcy.

"Look at this place," Wickham said in awe. "This must be the dragon's lair before us now."

"That clearing holds no dragon. We must go past it and beyond, for there's further journey to be had," Darcy noted. "Elizabeth, perhaps you should make sure that your sister's wound is clean."

"Never mind my wound! Let go the rope! I'll run on even if you will not!"

This time Darcy released Lydia, and she pushed past thistles and tangled roots. Several times she lost her balance, for trussed as she was, she had no hand to put out to steady herself. But Lydia reached the clearing without injury, with Elizabeth and the two men close behind. They all stopped at its edge to take in the sight before them.

At the centre of the clearing was a pond. It was frozen over, so a man, were he brave or foolish enough, might cross it in twenty or so strides. The smoothness of the ice's surface was interrupted only near the far side, where the hollowed-out trunk of a dead tree burst up through it. The patch of sky above the pond cast a strange light down on the dead tree, and Elizabeth stared at it for a while, almost expecting it to return to life.

"I say this place is cursed, Darcy," Wickham said.

"Look at those poor ogres. And they almost as large as the fiends you and Bingley killed the other night," Lydia said, as if in a trance.

Elizabeth stared at Lydia, and looked back to the pond in confusion. She could make out no ogres.

"What do you speak of, Lydia?"

"Don't you see them? Look, there! And there!"

"Lydia, you've become exhausted," Elizabeth said, worried. "Let's rest a while. Even if this is a gloomy spot, it gives us respite from the wind."

"How can you talk of rest, Lizzy? And isn't that how those poor creatures met their fate, loitering in this bewitched place too long? Heed their warning!"

"The only warning to heed tells me to make you rest before you drive your own heart to burst," Darcy interjected gravely, and proceeded to lead Lydia against her will to a tree.

"Do you see any ogres?" Elizabeth hissed at Wickham.

He shook his head, and then shrugged. "She is not in her senses."

Darcy was trudging around Lydia, circling rope about her chest and shoulders till she could hardly move. "This good tree means you no harm." Darcy placed a gentle hand on Lydia's shoulder. "Why waste strength this way to uproot it? Calm yourself and rest, while I study more closely this place."

Lydia now started chanting. At first, it was under breath, then with less inhibition she started singing into the wind a nonsensical rhyme Elizabeth had never heard before.

"Who knocked over the cup of ale? Who cut off the dragon's tail? Who left a snake inside the pail? 'Twas your Cousin Adny."

"You wouldn't have a Cousin Adny now, would you?" Wickham asked sardonically.

Elizabeth watched Darcy picking his way through the nettles down to the pond. Reaching the water's edge, the warrior spent several moments walking slowly back and forth, staring closely at the ground, sometimes crouching down to examine whatever caught his eye. Then he straightened, and for a long time seemed to fall into a reverie, gazing over at the trees on the far side of the pond.

For Elizabeth, Darcy was now a near-silhouette against the frozen water. He made a movement and suddenly the sword was in his hand, the arm poised and unmoving in the air. Then the weapon was returned to its scabbard and Darcy, turning from the water, came walking back towards Elizabeth and Wickham.

"We're hardly the first visitors here," he said. "Even this past hour, some party's come this way, and it's no she-dragon. Lydia seems somewhat calmer."

"She has just about lost all her senses," Wickham stated flatly. "You saw, she was about to kill me back there."

"She has not turned completely," Darcy said wearily. "She would have hurt you, but I don't think she would have been able to kill you…yet."

"I disagree," Wickham said. "And even so, she would have still bitten me, and then I too would join her in her path to madness."

Darcy, apparently not disagreeing, was silent. Elizabeth looked between the two men. "How much longer does she have?"

"It's the she-dragon's breath, it now overpowers her. A sure sign we're close to Querig."

"We cannot continue like this," Wickham said. "You and I are deep in enemy land. You are a marked man. Lydia as well, in more than one way. The three of us with a horse, Lydia on a leash ready to attack anyone at any moment."

"Lydia will not attack us," Elizabeth argued. "Besides, she has been leashed, and Darcy has her controlled."

"You are a fool, if you think she is safe, or that we are," Wickham retorted. "She lets Darcy control her, as any animal shows loyalty to he who saves them from a foe. She would kill you or I in a trice. It is not the blood you shared that now has her loyalty, it is her bestial nature. Darcy, surely you see what she is about. She is a terrific risk."

"Princess, Wickham is unfortunately correct," Darcy said, reaching out to hold her hand. "We really cannot continue like this."

"What?" Elizabeth asked, confused. "You are giving up?"

"No, no, of course not. I gave you my word that I would do all in my power to slay Querig."

Elizabeth calmed somewhat, but feared what Darcy was about to say. "Then…"

"We four cannot travel like this, together. I cannot keep Lydia safe, keep her from attacking you both, and find Querig. Someone has been here already, likely looking for Lydia or I."

"Likely men from Brennus. Giving up now is not the worst suggestion," Wickham said.

"It wasn't a suggestion!" Elizabeth cried out.

"No one is giving up. But we must split up," Darcy stated gravely. "You and Wickham, and Lydia and I."

"But…"

Even Wickham looked disappointed at Darcy's suggestion. "Split up and do what?"

"The two of you, take the horse. Wickham, you will have to track Querig the best you can."

"I did not sign up to slay dragons!" Wickham yelled, aghast.

"And yet, here you are," Darcy said pointedly. "I am well aware that this was not your end game. But as you pointed out, we are deep in enemy land. If Querig is dead, we are of no interest to Brennus. Otherwise, he will hunt you as he hunts me. And I cannot obtain a pardon for you, if I am dead on some hillside. If we are all dead on some hillside."

"We are stronger together," Elizabeth said quietly, fighting her tears.

Darcy put his arm around her. "I know that Princess, and I am loathe to separate from you. But I cannot protect all three of you at once. Your surest chance of being alive is to be separated from Lydia. I would not suggest this if I could think of something better."

"Lizzy! I've a confession to make!" Lydia cried out.

All three of them looked at each other in confusion. Finally, Darcy told her to go speak to Lydia "She seems more herself and much calmer. Go see what this is about."

Visibly unhappy, Wickham shook his head, "Don't trust her."

"What is it, Lydia?"

"I can't go on. When we began to climb, I knew just what to tell Wickham. I fear this cursed pool bewitches me, and maybe bewitches you too, making you content to dally this way and hardly glancing at those drowned ogres. Yet I know there's a confession I have to make and only wish I could find it."

"Lydia, what are you struggling to say?"

"I told him I sensed the dragon, but…it's mother, Lizzy. I promised her I'd save her. You must help me now we're so near her."

"Mother? You say she's near us now?"

"Yes, Lizzy. But not here. Not this cursed place. She's been travelling country to country, and it may not be such a bad life. Yet she longs to return to me, help me now face her captors, for it's long years she's waited for me."

It was clear to Elizabeth that even though Lydia was seemingly speaking sense, her mind was truly being taken over by madness. Elizabeth had completely forgotten about Lydia's talk of their mother. She recalled Wickham telling her in the underground tunnel that when Lydia was hearing their mother's voice, she was actually being called by Querig.

Elizabeth walked back to the men, who looked grave. Elizabeth repeated her earlier question. "How much longer does she have?"

"I do not know," Darcy said. "But given her rapid changes between normalcy and the other…I fear that the longer Querig stays alive, the less it seems that you will have your sister back. She has dragon blood in her, now overpowering all else. The desire rises in her blood to seek her own kind. She thinks her mother is Querig, and Querig speaks to Lydia, through their animal instincts and…whatever else surrounds Querig."

"Magic," Wickham said emphatically. "We're all thinking it; how can any creature call out for its own over miles and miles without some otherworldly help? For all their Christian god and such, these Britons all fall back on the olden ways when real help is needed. Nobody has managed to keep Querig contained in this manner without some magic to help them."

"Wickham, you are getting distracted. We need to focus on how best to stay alive, and slay Querig. And if I by chance fail, you must be ready to do the deed."

Elizabeth turned to Darcy. "You shall not fail," she said simply, but with conviction. She could not fathom a scenario where Darcy could not succeed. "If you think the best way to stay safe and find Querig is to separate…I do not want to, but I understand why we must."

"Should you fall and I survive, I promise you this. That I shall carry in my heart a hatred of Britons," Wickham told Darcy quietly, but Elizabeth heard him well enough.

"What do you mean? Which Britons?"

"All Britons, even those who show me kindness."

"Wickham, I understand you, but no such promise is necessary. And it is not suitable under the circumstances."

"I don't understand," Elizabeth said. "Why do you hate Britons? Why must you hate a Briton who shares with you their bread? Or saves you from a foe? You came into our country escaping your own!"

"There are Britons who tempt our respect, even our love," Wickham said, pointedly looking at Darcy. "But there are greater things than that. It was Britons under Arthur that slaughtered our kind. It was Britons who killed my parents. It was Britons who killed your father, and my protector. If he had lived…we've a duty to hate every man, woman and child of their blood. I tend well this hatred in my heart. The hour can be too late for rescue, but be early enough for revenge. And I did not come here out of any love for Britons, but for temporary respite from my own land."

"Wickham, a hatred of all Britons will not achieve us anything now," Darcy said, voice heavy with emotion. "Elizabeth – a Briton through and through – has the same goal as our King. To slay Querig and put an end to this madness. Her sister is a victim, like many Saxons who were felled before her. And most of them have no memory of history at all. The only promise I want from you should I fall and you survive, is that you take Elizabeth and Lydia somewhere to safety."

"We had a peace," Wickham said. The venom had left his voice, and only sadness and weariness remained. "If they – she," he said, looking at Elizabeth, "if they do not remember, then someone should tell them. We had a peace. Brokered after years of war, and years of death. The treaty held well. Didn't all of us, Christian and pagan, sleep more easily for it? Sure, we had battles here and there, some skirmishes, but we were mostly fine. Mostly fine, until Arthur betrayed us. He betrayed the peace, and he betrayed all Saxons the day he broke the peace and slaughtered hundreds of our people, forcing Saxon villages to his control. And these Britons think all is well just because they have forgotten, and because their dragon keeps us checked in fear? A dragon Brennus threatens to use to subjugate more Saxons and invade our kingdom? Your loyalty should be to your King and to your people, Darcy, not to some woman."

"I do not have to choose between the person I love and my people, Wickham. Elizabeth and I are of one mind. And I protect her and hers, just as I protect all Saxons." Darcy drew Elizabeth close to him. "Wickham, you shall protect her in my absence. I will give to her my token from our King. If I should fall, and you do not think you can likely slay Querig either, you shall take Elizabeth and Lydia safely to Charles. The token in Elizabeth's possession will guarantee your pardon."

Wickham sighed in resignation. "I may hate Britons, but I will not let her come to harm. I understand better than most what is needed for one's own survival. Finish your goodbyes quickly," he added as he sauntered off.

"Darcy, did we have some quarrel earlier? I've no memory of anything except being near my wit's end from cold and want of rest…but you seemed upset as we walked together. I feel something came between us. With Lydia's sudden appearance, you and I were not able to speak."

"I'd no intention to hold myself away from you, Princess. Forgive me. We had some trouble with pixies that worried me. Trust me, it's best forgotten."

"Darcy, tell me. If the she-dragon's really slain and the fog starts to clear, Darcy, do you ever fear what will then be revealed to us? Is there a part of you that fears the fog's fading?"

"Perhaps, Elizabeth. Perhaps it's always been so. I left you during a bad time, out of duty to my people. I fear most that you will remember the devastation you felt, and not forgive my leaving. I fear what I do not know and cannot control." For a moment, he looked lost and bewildered, like a young boy and not a world-weary warrior.

"I remember a night long ago. When you were gone, leaving me lonely, wondering to myself if you'd ever come back to me. The night as dark as any, and there I was, alone, afraid that you were gone and would find another fairer and beautiful. But those are fears of a different lifetime. We have been through too much in the last several days for me to ever doubt your fidelity to me, or to question your loyalties, no matter what memories are returned to me."

Darcy said nothing to this at first. Then he turned to look at her. When Darcy finally found his voice, it came out as no more than a whisper. "It would be the saddest thing to me, Princess. To walk separately from you, when the ground will let us go together."

An overwhelming feeling swept over her, and she saw strange creatures swarming in water, and Darcy…Darcy swinging something through the air…and she heard noise as of children playing in the distance…Darcy was fighting, like the warrior he was with fury in his voice. It was a sword or maybe even a hoe that he kept swinging...

"What is it, Elizabeth? Why look at me like that?"

"I'm just gazing at you in relief and happiness for finding you. I am gazing at you, because I have faith that we will be together again, no matter our troubles."

A/N: Sorry for the delay; the never-ending covid lockdown has me uttery depressed and demotivated to do anything at all. I definitely have not abandoned this and will not; just need to get mental health a bit stable during these trying times.