A week later saw the small vessel docked on the notorious island of Eir. Unloading quickly, and locating and reloading new mounts was the least of the small parties problem. The small village they docked at was safe for the time being, however, for the Lady's safety they dressed her in Belac's spare clothes.
"There is a ruins about a half day's ride from here. We should be safe there. From what I can remember, it is said to be haunted and even the bandits and thieves do not go there." Lonathe said as he checked and rechecked his saddle. His mount was a pitch black monster, eighteen hands tall and with a temper that made the devil look angelic, the villagers were desperate to get rid of him. For some reason or other when Lonathe walked into the stable, the monster chose him as his rider. In fact, it scared all the other horses to the far side of the field except for two mares and two stallions. Astonished, the owner practically gave the horses away, muttering to himself of being free of the demon sidhe. Right now it seemed as if the beast wanted nothing to do with him at all.
"Cam, maybe you should take the Lady with you. I am unsure whether this mount will carry me much less the Lady." Lonathe looked at the horse dubiously.
"With pleasure Lon." Cam said as he mounted his own stallion. Where Lonathe's stallion was black as night, Cam once again found his opposite. This horse was a Bay, sixteen and half hands of pure power.
As Cam gestured for Lonathe to hand the Lady up to him, the pitch black nightmare roared to life and immediately placed himself in between Cam and Lonathe. Then the horse turned its head and, in only the manner a horse can, glared at Lonathe. The horse then reached its head to nuzzle the mop of hair that was currently resting over his heart. Amazingly, the horse was very gentle and left no marks on the Lady.
Astonished Cam looked over to Lonathe, "Guess that means I don't get to ride with her?"
"Apparently not. I wonder if when she gets healthy if I will even be allowed to ride with her. Question is: will we have a choice?" As Lonathe said this, the Lady began to move listlessly. Her fever broke two nights before docking but she still had yet to wake. Even Raseac was beginning to appear worried.
"Lets just get to the ruins as quick as we can. I have a feeling something big is about to happen." With that Lonathe secured both himself and his passenger to the monstrous beast and gave the order to move out. As he gave the order, the beast flexed underneath him, snorted and then leaped forward. It was all Lonathe could do to keep himself and the Lady on the beast. He noticed as they were galloping along, the Lady's hands had strayed and tangled themselves in the horse's mane. The horse seem to temper his strength as soon as her hands touched his skin, and Lonathe was infinity grateful for the reprieve in the hard pace. By the time they reached the ruins, Lonathe was thankful to get off the demon horse. Never in his life had he seen a more willful creature. And if the Lady was the only one to control it, may the heaven's help them all.
"I say my boy, it appears as though your beast is the leader for this little entourage. Almost as if you don't have to direct him at all." Raseac laughed as he and Belac entered the ruins. Their mounts stood placidly while watching the Demon Horse shy away from Lonathe with the Lady still on his back. The stallion was careful not to allow her to fall off but it took another thirty minutes before the demon beast would allow the Lady out of his sight once Lonathe got her down. Damn thing kept following him around, even after he tied him up four separate times. The loyalty this woman inspired in creatures was unheard of. Especially, when she hadn't been around it long enough to inspire it. It took the most amount of coaxing and explaining that the Lady needed rest inside the ruins: not on the back of a horse, demon or not. All the while Cam sat on a rock, laughing loudly in amusement.
"Having issues Lon?" Cam said as he tossed his mount his apple core. Said horse snatched the treat from mid-air and gobbled it down.
"Not one word Cam, not one word." Lonathe said as he stalked inside the ruins with the Lady in his arms. He brought her into the only part of the ruins that still had a roof for protection. Belac had a nice fire going and a bed made up for her. As he placed her on the make-shift bed, Lonathe noticed the Lady seemed more at peace now than she did before they docked. "She will awaken soon, there is no doubt about that. Belac watch over her, Cam and myself are going to make sure we are alone here. Let's move Cam, who knows what else lurks in this heap of stone besides us."
"As you wish, sir." Belac said stirring some more food into the stew he once again made for them for dinner. By the time the two warriors had returned and everyone had eaten the mood was very introspective. Each was pondering over the now peaceful Lady who seems to have crept into their world without so much as a by-your-leave. Eventually, each one drifted into sleep making note to take turns to watch over her. As always Belac had the first shift. Being lost in thought, Belac hardly recognized the slight signs of his patient waking a few hours later.
"My Lord, quickly! The Lady is waking." Belac whispered slightly.
"Cam get up you great oaf, she's waking up!" Lonathe said as he shoved his close friend.
"Now boys there is no need to get too excited yet. She hasn't even opened her eyes yet. Lonathe, I would not stand there if I were you." Raseac stated to the now hovering Lonathe. "She does need to breathe you know."
Sheepishly Lonathe slowly backed up a few paces and crouched down. Nearby Cam mirrored his position while also looking around for any change in their surroundings. A worried look crossed his face and doubts began to enter his mind. "Lon, we are going to have to move soon. What are we going to do with her? She will only slow us down more than we already are."
Lonathe grimaced. "What would you have me do? Let her wake alone without escorts. You know what Forest men will do to her as well as I do. Look what they did to your mother. Would you have that happen to her too? I can't turn my back to a defenseless woman, Cam. No matter what she might have done in her past." He shook his head as he gazed back towards the shifting woman.
Cam looked at him, mistrust written across his face. "Lon, you heard what Master Raseac said. She changed history. No one changes history that drastically, what type of person could accomplish that feat? Not only that, but Raseac even said that the King's father himself used her as an adviser. Everyone knows he never took anyone's advice. He would just go off to think for days at a time, and come back with ideas no one could possibly think of. Its what finally got him killed. His son has none of his brilliance and would kill anyone that stands in his way." Cam said with fear in his voice. "Defenseless or not, no good can come from taking her with us."
"Well, we shall just wait and see then" Lonathe then turned to face the woman who was just now opening her eyes. Struggling with each moment as if it was an eternity.
Darkness. Blinding abyss. Have I finally died? Where is the tunnel of light and chorus of angels. Not that I expect to actually be allowed to rest with my loved ones. Only those who are worthy get those, and Heaven knows my hands are bloodier than most. By all rights, I should be burning in eternal flames. Strange, as murmurings reach through the blackness. Am I not really dead, just deeply asleep? Others are coming soon, they cannot find me here. I am too weak to fight right now. Must let the others know of the danger they are in. What danger? Have I gone mad?
Ice, cold, burning heat, fire, strange voices. What do they mean? Right, frozen in ice until the voices released me in a blaze of ice hot fire. Frozen, imprisoned more like. How long? Years, centuries perhaps. Memories dance across my waking conscience like a film in high speed. Pain, Hatred, Hurt, Love, Fear, Hope, Loss. So many emotions that I have not felt in so long.
Why do my eyes feel like plates of lead? Its not like I have done anything but blink in years. Slight movements, shapes blur in and out of focus. The light of the fire makes my eyes burn, I am fairly certain I groaned in pain before someone blocked the firelight from my eyes. The mumblings are growing louder. What are they saying? Don't they know its rude to speak in foreign tongues. Then again, I am guilty of that crime multiple times over.
I hear someone say something that seems to be addressed to me. Very formal, must be in their native tongue, however, I've not had a chance to study it. They try again in a different tongue, the words are at the tip of my tongue. They sound familiar to me. I should put them out of their misery in trying to communicate. The blurry images are starting to focus in the dim light. I can see that the Tall One from earlier is attempting to speak to me. Funny, I would have thought the Old one would have taken the lead. He seems familiar from a time long ago. Tilting my head towards the Tall One, noticing his impatience with not being able to communicate I should throw the poor guy a bone. Then again, he hasn't done anything to merit my attention, short of my release. Must remember to kick him for that.
The odd quartet watched as they woman they all had grown so attached to began to open her eyes. It looked like she was finally going to regain consciousness for the first time in almost a month. Each were excited to finally be able to greet the woman they had been so carefully safeguarding. When her ice blue eyes finally opened they could see her struggling in the dim light to focus on each of their faces. Lonathe moved his body to block some of the fire light that was dancing across her face. In his impatience, Lonathe began speaking in his native tongue, forgetting she might not understand; "Good Eve, milady. My name is Lonathe Lesied. By what name might you call yourself?"
She focus briefly on him and confusion was etched into her face. Cam looked at Lonathe with a bit of unease, unsure as to what to do. Lonathe tried again in all of the languages he knew, thirteen in all, with the same results. Frustrated he turned to Lord Raseac, "What do we do now, Sir? She doesn't understand any of the known languages. Or some of the dead ones for that matter."
"Perhaps, because she has not had the time to adjust. Remember, she after all only just woke from her slumber." Raseac replied contemplating the difficulties a communication barrier would entail.
Looking at the group they all seemed quite contemplative. Maybe they just realized I can't speak their language? This must be how the Egyptian kings would feel if they rose from the dead only to find their language had been dead for centuries.
My body feels so weak. The bones like jelly, almost as if I didn't spend eternity tense inside a frozen cocoon. Easy guess is that English won't be spoken here. Doubtful any of the three languages I know would be.
Well the only way to start to communicate will have to be with hand signals, my throat is too raw for words anyway. First things, first. Time to at least sit up. There is no way I will even be able to remotely feel comfortable with them hovering above me like turkey vultures. Rolling to my side proved to be challenging and waving off overly helpful hands to assist me, I finally manage the task. The young one had a bowl of some form of liquid. Not caring for the formalities the Tall One was attempting to perform. Most likely introductions, do they not realize water is a great necessity upon awaking? Tugging the bowl towards me takes most of my strength, and the boy looks flabbergasted at my actions.
The world begins to tilt on me before I can even raise the small bowl a few inches. Quickly the Tall One finds himself kneeling beside me, left knee and chest propping me up while his arms surround me. He lifts the bowl in one hand and as gently as he could manage, presses it to my lips.
Oh, cool salvation. I reach a hand to tilt the bowl to acquire more of the sweet nectar but even that is a challenge. My conscience is slipping, not again. There must be something to dull the senses in the water. Stupid fool. You know better than to take things at face value.
Mumbling reaches through the darkness that is quickly enclosing her, she desperately tries to cling to it. Pulling herself back from the brink of unconsciousness is not an easy task. Each moment in the darkness, she senses her sanity slipping just that much closer to the edge of a line she has been toeing for ages. To step over that line would doom all she encounters. Even her new found companions can sense the subtle change from passive to volatile in less than a blink of an eye.