Chapter Thirty
Seaborn
xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx
The skies slowly turned back to blue and the ocean calmed its churning, before stilling in the sunset. With purple at their feet the Princess and her horse walked across the waves and up the beach.
Well, that was boring. I didn't even get to trample anyone.
"Peace, Dante," The Princess said turning to the stallion, as they walked up the sand, "You'll get your chance soon enough."
Are we going to war? Asked the stallion, turning eager eyes on the woman.
"Yes."
xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx
Black waves rhythmically crashed against the rocks, casting milky white spray into the air, barely discernible against the grey sky. A large wave, twice the size of its counterparts, rolled up the beach and over the rocks onto the sand.
Were anyone around, they would see a horseman ride from the giant wave as it withdrew, water cascading from their armour and horse, splattering onto the sand. A light rain began to fall and the rider glanced up to the heavens before urging the horse onwards.
The horseman's hand rose and the salt water evaporated like steam from their bodies. Nudging the horse forward, the pair made their way up the forsaken beach, passing rundown and broken fishing boats half buried in the sand, evidence of a prosperous time long past.
The horse, a great black beast, tossed its head, the armour on its neck gleaming in the dull light as it gracefully, for something so large, made its way up off the sand and onto the hard dirt.
Snorting in annoyance the horse moved into a trot and its shod hooves thudded into the ground with a deep, reassuring sound. The rider moved with his mount, rising and falling, his cloak falling over the horse's haunches and his hood hiding his face from view. Dressed in full armour, though the likes of it had never been seen in these lands before, the horse drew attention first.
Black armour with silver runes and symbols cast into the metal adorned the neck, head, chest and haunches of the beast. And between the areas of armour, there was a layer of dark chainmail visible, offering a second layer of protection where the armour couldn't go.
Beneath those layers, and appearing over the horses flanks and upper legs was a long black and silver cape, almost like the horse was cloaked himself. Visible beneath the flowing black fabric was two pairs of black and silver armour; covering the horses lower legs like a greave would on a human.
The shield and fabric bore no insignia to reveal the identity of the rider; they were just as black as the rest of the horses armour, with silver lines. Aside from the flowing black cloak and hood, the rider was adorned very similar to the horse though they were wearing matching black leather boots and gloves. The falling rain had thickened, now showering in larger drops and the water seemed to hit the pair and roll off their armour and fabric, almost like it hit an invisible barrier.
A sudden movement at an Alley way drew the rider's hooded gaze and a little boy, no older than eight summers, dashed out in front of them. The horse halted abruptly and the boy avoided colliding with them before continuing onward, glancing behind him in fear, before ducking into an alley opposite.
There was a thundering of feet, heard easily over the light shower, and a group of men emerged from the same alley. They paused when they saw the rider and slowed to a halt, peering at the imposing figure curiously. A rugged group, they wore mismatched pieces of clothing and had clearly foraged for the rusty weapons and armour they had. The horse snorted and his ears flew back, he knew men like this, all the same, badly mannered with short tempers, arrogant and loud and with egos larger than themselves.
One was holding a pair of furious dogs, straining at their leashes, their malnourished bodies trembling with a strength they didn't look to have.
Abruptly he let the dogs go and they dashed off into the alley, barking furiously and there was a loud yelp of pain.
One of the men gestured to the rider, "Get outa ta way!" He ordered through crooked teeth as two men followed the dogs.
The rider turned a hooded head in his direction, staring at him for a moment before nudging the horse forward.
The warrior had to pull up for the man had walked in front of the horse, his buddies flanking him on both sides, flexing their muscles dangerously.
"I told ya ta move," growled the man again, standing a head higher than his friends.
The rider said nothing, but they eyed the thug for a moment before pulling the reins and turning the horse to the side, only to find the group moved with them and was once again directly in their path.
Tossing his head the horse pawed the ground angrily before quietening under the warrior's hand.
"Mighty fine horse ya got there, boy and armour," the thug continued, his dull brown eyes greedily roving over the pair, "Why don't ya just step down and hand us the reins."
The rain began to drizzle, the skies turning a shade lighter and the sun lighting up the silver on the armour and the hilt at the warriors side.
"Did ya hear what I said, Boy?" Growled the thug again, shifting menacingly forward.
The rider waited a moment before flicking back his coat and sliding easily from the saddle and landing without a sound on the dirt that was quickly turning into mud.
"Rufus!" A voice called through the rain, toned with glee, "We caught em!" All heads turned to see the speaker dragging a small boy across the alley, while a second man wrapped the leashes of both dogs around his giant hand.
Grinning several of the thugs moved away from the leader, Rufus, and made their way over to the boy. "Now, just hand me those reins and we'll be on our way," the browned eyed thug promised, fingering the hilt of his own blade.
A gloved hand rose and pointed at the thug before turning and facing the sky palm up. Rufus blinked as he was slowly lifted from the ground and panic laced his dull eyes.
"Ge-get him!" He yelled to his companions, but they hesitated as the hood turned to each of them in turn. The pool of muddy water in the dirt slowly began to rise, purifying and crystallising as it formed a long and sharp shaft.
"What are ya waiting for, get him!" roared the thug once more and the gloved hand halted and waved the index finger from side to side, like one would do to a naughty child. The thugs backed away and moved over to where their companions were holding the boy down, and were bringing out a whip.
Rufus turned back to the Rider, "Please, please don't kill me."
His pleas went unanswered as he was lowered swiftly onto the shaft, which pieced his chest easily and hit the ground. Blood began to drip from the point of the crystal, water mixing with it as it rushed down the sides and onto his clothes. The rider turned back to the horse as the shaft dispersed back into water, leaving the thug dead in the street, blood winding its way down towards the sea.
The horse stepped away from the rider as he made to mount and turned its head in the direction of the alley mouth, where the boy was sobbing into the dirt as the thugs teased him with the whip.
A black head turned back to the rider and nudged them forward; I abhor the slaughter of foals.
The thugs glanced around and seeing nothing but the strange warrior, turned back to the boy and the one holding the whip raised it and brought it sharply down on the boys back. "This'll teach you fa steal'n!"
The horse snorted in fury and nudged the rider again, who sighed and walked over to the thugs, silently withdrawing their blade as they did so.
They came up behind the first one and grabbing their shoulder, pulled them back onto the sword before moving onto the next one.
By now the group was realising the stranger was attacking them and turned to face them, the one holding the boy releasing him and the boy took off into the buildings.
The fight lasted barely half a minute from when the warrior walked over to them, to when the warrior stood alone surrounded by bodies. Sheathing their sword they glanced over to the buildings, before turning and walking back to the horse.
That wasn't so difficult, was it? The horse nudged the rider as they approached and turned to let them mount.
"And yet you say nothing about the murder of my mate?" The Rider spoke in a calm and soft voice.
The horse snorted, In your herd you are not a mare, you are a stallion. There can only be one.
"And that makes it acceptable for Raku to be dead?" Growled the woman, for it was a woman's voice that came from the hood.
The horse moved forward without instruction, continuing on their path, There is only one stallion, there can be only one in a herd, it is a fight. You are not trivial to the herd; you are dominant and fought for the position against the other stallion. While it pains you, this is nature, the strong must live and the weak die. Only humans allow such weakness, surely you understand?
There was no judgement to the horse's tone, if a horse could be judgemental, only curiosity and an attempt to understand.
The woman sighed, "You're right, but I-I just wish it didn't have to be like this."
You are a Hunter, as was your mate, but you are the Hunter, said the horse, as though this solved everything.
Silence followed this comment and the stallion picked up the pace, "Thank you, Ashnidanté."
The stallion snorted, We are bonded, I am supposed to make you feel better.
The woman laughed, "I don't remember seeing that when I read about it."
That's because it was written in horse, said the stallion smugly and the woman laughed again.
The pair continued on in silence with the woman glancing about her, taking in the deserted and crumbling buildings. Glancing to the sky she saw a few pillars of smoke and internally wondered what the people could be burning, for she had read about this land, and knew there was nothing here.
There were sounds ahead of her and she slowed the stallion and led him into an alley and tied his reins to her saddle. Dismounting she reached for the roll behind her saddle and withdrew a long bow and a quiver full of arrows.
"Come when I call, please," she instructed the stallion, who snorted at her, "And no dawdling."
The stallion shook his head and put his nose to the sky, "I mean it." The woman gave him a final pat before moving off into the shadows of the buildings. The entire place leaked of desperation and suffering seemed to teem from the very earth and sky.
Striding silently closer, and skirting the puddles she eyed a tall and broken building ahead of her before nodding and slid the bow and quiver over her shoulder and began to climb.
The building bowed and groaned beneath her weight and for a moment she thought she would be too heavy, but it held and she carefully stuck to the stronger parts of the roof.
Out in the middle of what used to have been the towns square, there was a gathering of men, women and children, all huddled together like sheep, shying away from men who stood around the square. Clearly the band of men she recently encountered were guards of some sort, as there were at least four groups of them in the square, gathered to watch the events.
There was a pedestal in the centre and a group of about a dozen men were tied together in front of it, though "men" was perhaps an exaggeration. From this distance they looked to be young, barely men at all and they were all malnourished and some didn't even have the strength to stand upright. Beyond that there was a horse and cart with bodies tossed carelessly into it, for behind the men was a beam sticking out of the ground with a second plank going across it horizontally. Underneath it there was a large pit dug into the dirt and a hanging rope fluttered softly in the breeze.
There was a man talking, booming to the crowds and she inched forward, pulling her bow from her shoulder.
"For your crimes against the Wardens and against the House of Slyenthia, you are sentenced to death!"
One of the young men was unchained from his companions and dragged to the gallows, too exhausted to put up much of a fight, though when the noose went about his neck he turned his eyes on the crowd, "Don't let them treat you like this! Live! Don't-"
He was cut off as he was pushed forward over the hole and began to choke. Then he fell down into the pit, the rope still about his neck, an arrow thudding into the wood above him, as the guards searched for the source of the interruption. There were screams from the crowd as they were pushed away or saw arrows sticking out of the guards.
Eventually one of the thugs saw her and she ended him with an arrow through his throat, though not before his cry had drawn attention to her. Lowering her bow as the guards came charging towards her, she leapt from the building, landing easily like she had been taught, before standing and leaning her bow and quiver against the crumbling wall.
Drawing her sword she strode forward to meet the guards who were rushing to meet her, their own blades and weapons drawn. The official had turned pale and ran to the horse, untying it from the cart and kicked it brutally forward and away from the violence. The group of men in the huddle were watching her curiously though one of them began to hurriedly whisper to his companions.
"Untie us! We'll fight!" A dark-skinned one roared at her. She ignored them, concentrating more on the large number of big and angry men surrounding her.
Using her smaller size, she was able to easily step around them and kill them, for all their size and bravado; they were really just children waving a wooden stick in the yard compared to her.
And the fight only last minutes, as once the guard's saw how easily she cut through their companions, they turned and fled, vowing penalty. Sheathing her blade she glanced around at the bodies that littered her feet and to the silent crowd huddled together like lambs. Whistling sharply she spun and strode back to her bow and quiver before summoning her arrows back to her, inspecting them individually before placing them back into her quiver.
Ashnidanté stood behind her and waited patiently as she strode over to the group of youngsters who were tied together. Standing in front of them, she waited until all curious eyes were on her before flicking a blade into her hand and cutting through the rope with a sharp precise movement.
She ignored the youths as she turned away and strode over to the pit, jumping down into it easily enough. Roughly she grabbed the youth and pulled him over, harshly cutting the ropes around his hands and feet before straightening and leaping from the pit. The dark-skinned youth had retrieved a blade from one of the fallen thugs and had freed his companions and now they all stood together with the weapons and shields of the fallen wardens.
"Clayton, are you okay?" Asked one of the boys and he inched closer to the pit, making sure to avoid Alanna. Clayton groaned as he dragged himself up over the edge of the pit, the noose still around his neck. The boy reached for his friend and with surprisingly gentle hands tried to remove the rope. "I'm fine, Carson," rasped the young man as he sat up, rubbing his wrists. Carson nodded before carefully sawing at the rope around his friend's neck.
Finally freed, the boys presented a united front to the unknown warrior, flanking the young leader on both sides.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Demanded the dark-skinned one as Alanna mounted, her cloak snapping about her.
"Theon," hissed Clayton, "Be polite, he just saved us." Theon turned to Clayton before nodding sharply and turned back to Alanna. "Thank you, Stranger."
Alanna inclined her head beneath her hood, before Ashnidanté moved off across the courtyard and they vanished into the darkening day.
xxxxxXXXXXXxxxxx
Lightning flashed overhead as the two men made their way through the rain, one cursing softly as their breath turned smoke-like in front of them. "Shush," the other gestured through the rain. He received a grunt in response and shook the rain from his coat as they ducked beneath a crumbling arch and knocked a pattern on the rotting door. The door creaked open and the two men were rushed inside and the door was quickly closed behind them.
Silently they hurried through the house, the musty walls and ceiling offering little reassurance of warmth and safety from the rain. A candle light guided them onward and they made their way to a larger room at the end of the dwelling, it was an open space and clearly some work had been done to keep it habitable and there were shelves of dried plants and some strange looking rocks were in one corner. Mismatched chairs were scattered around a large table, which had one of its legs held up by a series of rocks and sticks. Carpets and fur, long tainted brown and grey with age and use were practically threadbare on the concrete.
A large and battered pot was in the corner, the smoke syphoning out through a hole in the roof. A slender woman wearing what looked to be an old bed sheet was sitting next to the pot and was applying some sort of salve to the raw skin around the neck of a young man. His black hair was matted and tangled and looked as though it had been cut by hedge scissors, maybe even the large rusty ones lying on the shelf behind him. His bright gold eyes were filled with pain as the salve set into his skin and he flinched away.
A pale hand slapped him and roughly held his chin in place, "Enough of that!"
Muffled sniggers came from the men in the room, and gold eyes glared at them and they fell silent, though some still shook with laughter.
"Did you find him?"
"Nah, Clayton. Vanished," grunted one of the men who had joined them. The other spoke up, "We asked around and heard tales of a horseman riding from the sea, but that is nonsense."
The gold-eyed youth nodded, "Well, I would like to thank him, but if he's gone I guess we can do nothing."
"It would appear our captors weren't the only ones to meet this man," continued the man, "we came across a series of bodies down the Old Road. Took what was left and moved it to storage."
Clayton nodded pleased, "Very well."
There was a moment's pause while the fire cracked beneath the pot before he spoke again, "What do we know of the Warden's movements? What of Bucaic?"
Another man spoke up, "How many men were down Old Road?"
His answer was swift, "Seven."
"That makes it three and twenty that this guy has killed, so, that leaves about five dozen remaining."
Clayton nodded at the numbers, "they outnumber us four-to-one on a good day, but right now, I don't think we can manage even that." The men made sounds of agreement; most had been beaten at the hands of the Wardens after their capture and they were weak and handicapped, only a few were fit to weld a weapon.
Clayton sighed, "Okay, so we can't do anything yet. Lay low for a few weeks, I'll call you when we are ready to move. But if you hear anything, let me know. Spread the word, gents."
In two's and threes the men began to leave, slipping out the rotten door and into the night, until only Clayton was left. Sighing he got to his feet, looking old for his age and smiled tiredly to the Healer, "Thanks Laelia, I owe you."
"Yes, you do," nodded the woman, her raven hair shimmering in the faint light.
Clayton nodded awkwardly, knowing that he truly had nothing he could afford to give her, before making his way from the building, pulling his hood up.
Above him, a figure stood on the roof and watched him as he disappeared through the rain.
xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx
The Wardens generally travelled in groups; usually numbering three or four up to seven or eight, however on occasion one would stumble home alone from the tavern, the only fairly decent building in the entire city. On this night, it would prove to be an error of judgement that would leave the Wardens in an uproar in the morning, when more of their numbers were found dead.
A young woman was walking between the alleyways, her clothing cut in an unfamiliar style though revealed her assets to any wandering eye. Unsteadily one of the Wardens broke off from his fellows and followed her through the alley, wanting to keep her to himself for now. The woman heard him coming and turned her head to see him before moving quicker through the pathways.
He caught her easily and tossed her against the wall, his hands reaching for his belt. "'Ello there lassie," he slurred and his eyes greedily roved over her skin as she leant against the wall. In the light from the moon her skin was golden and the bright crimson silk she wore contrasted delicately against her skin. Her muscles shifted with her steady breaths and he followed her exhale up over her chest before reaching her face. There he blanched and a blade shimmered in the moonlight, he didn't have a chance to scream, and the last thing he saw before his death was glinting purple eyes.
Over that night a dozen lone men met their deaths at the hands of a beautiful woman, who struck without mercy and vanished without a trace. The following morning the Wardens gathered the towns people and took their children, they were told they would get their children back if the assailant came forward, and that for every day he did not, they would kill one of them.
Mothers cried and begged, but to no avail, the children we thrown into the cages and kept there, with four Wardens to guard them night and day. As the crowd dispersed, a lone woman watched from a distance, her face covered. A small boy, hidden in the shadows, watched her intently and followed her as she made her way silently through the town, her dirty cloak brushing the mud and hiding her clothing. Reaching the edge of town she continued onward and out into the sparse forest that remained until she came upon a clearing, where a small shack lent to one side.
The boy blinked as he limped around the outskirts of the forest, the grass here was lush and green, a colour and richness he had only dreamed of and a large black horse was grazing near a well and as the woman entered the clearing its small head rose and whickered a greeting before going back to the grass.
There was a small spit revolving above a smouldering fire and as the wind changed it blew the scent of roasted meat across the clearing. The boy stifled a groan of desire as the woman moved to the fireplace and a seat emerged from the earth, and she sat elegantly on it. The fire cracked and spat as fat from the meat dripped onto it and the woman removed the rod and slid the animal off and placed it onto a silver plate that appeared out of nowhere and hovered in the air.
A second animal rose from a small cotton bag and slid onto the rod before it was placed over the fire and began to spin, slowly as blood dripped down its pale body and onto the fire. Whimpering as the woman began to eat he lowered himself onto the grass, the dog bite oozing and leaking through his clothes.
How long he waited, he didn't know, but measured time by how many times his stomach clenched in pain and the throbbing in his wounded leg.
Eventually the woman finished her meal and after summoning water from the well for the horse, she lay down to rest. Sensing his chance the boy waited for as long as he could before rising, his body protesting at the action after being still for so long, and limped forward out of the trees.
The horse noticed him immediately and watched him curiously before tossing its mane and returning to grazing; breathing a sigh of relief he relaxed and shuffled forward, eyes on the roasting animal, whose aroma seemed to summon him.
Moonlight guided him towards the fire and the thought that he was about to steal from a Mage didn't occur to him, only his gnawing hunger mattered. He slipped around the still form of the woman and reached the heat of the fire, sighing at the warmth. His belly growled and he froze, hoping the noise didn't disturb the woman, when she remained asleep he inched forward and hesitantly grabbed at the rod. He bit back a yelp as his hands burnt but his hunger overrode his pain and he lifted the rod from the stands, letting it fall onto the ground.
Clutching his hands to his body he rocked back and forward on his knees, biting back cries of pain as tears streaked down his cheeks.
Sniffing he scrambled for the meat, and wrapped his hands in the pale cloth that the meat had come from. With his hands protected he was easily able to slide the meat from the rod and with his bounty he turned around and froze.
The woman was sitting cross-legged and facing him, her purple eyes gleaming in the firelight. He gave a cry and jerked backwards. Stumbling into the fire, only to launch himself out as the flames lapped at his skin.
Whimpering in pain he rolled away and brushed helplessly at his clothes as ash burnt through them. The horse came up behind him and lowered its head, sniffing him before snorting and stepping away, mane flying.
"Did you really just try to steal from me?" Said the woman eyeing him curiously, her voice cold and clear, as though the idea of someone stealing something from her were ludicrous.
The boy said nothing, holding the meat and still crouching beneath the shadow of the horse, feeling his warmth even at the distance between them.
"I asked you a question, boy," her voice changed and the order was blatant, her tone an icy hiss.
Gulping the boy looked down, fingering the meat, inhaling the scent deeply as though he could inhale the food.
Suddenly he acted, throwing his bounty back at the woman and darting to the side, ignoring the way his leg flared in pain. She caught the meat easily and remained seated as he stumbled away because the horse was soon in his path, solid and strong. Picking himself up from the ground he turned and tried another path, only to find the horse in his way again. Its black neck snaked forward and his teeth latched around the boy's clothes before beginning to walk forward, dragging the boy with him.
"Hey," he scrambled and twisted in mid-air, like a fish on a hook, "lemme down!"
The horse obliged when he was standing in front of the woman, who was watching the horse with a blank expression, though as he was set down a frown crossed her features.
The horse snorted and nudged the boy further forward and he collapsed exhausted in front of her, a pile of bones and skin.
The meat was still smoking in her hands, the steam swirling in the air and he eyed it ravenously. Abruptly she tossed it to him, "Don't take what is mine," she instructed as she got to her feet and made her way into the shack. The horse snorted before walking off to graze, leaving the boy alone in the clearing with a freshly cooked and warm slab of meat, with only the stars for company.
xxxxxXXXXXxxxxx
Author's Note: So, this is a new part to the story, (one of) the new plot line(s) it may be another chapter or two, but then, eventually, we return to Tortall! So, yeah, bear with :D Also, thanks to Fang for some characters, I'm going to have fun with them :D Wow, 99 follows! :D
Guest: Do you mind telling me why you put off reading it? Thank you! It's always great getting new readers :D I am glad you enjoy it. You are correct in believing it has been about three years for Tortall, but for the Tournament, she only goes there for each one, and then returns to Tahaken, so in reality she hasn't aged with the Tournament. Her biological age is twenty, almost twenty-one, but the years she has lived is much, much higher, nearing 5 thousand.
Schubeyy: I'm sorry I made you cry, but it had to happen. Aw, thank you, that is so sweet, I have warm fuzzies now :D On another note, did you see J. is going to make Fantastic Beast and Where to find them into a movie? I am so excited!
CoTB: Well, maybe we will see him again?
RoyalLady: That was fun ;)