A Paladin's Journey Ch. 20

"Who?" Smythe demanded, but no answer came as a figure strode out from beneath the sprawling branches of a freshly-righted oak. Smythe blinked when he saw the branches in her path bend out of the way. Tall and beautiful, this decidedly feminine creature had skin of deep brown and long, flowing green hair like the lushest of grasses, laced with wildflowers that ran across her brow in a diadem of pinks and yellows and blues. She wore no clothing, and Smythe thought it would have looked unnatural on her, if she did. Startling large eyes with irises the colour of new spring grass studied the small group of people watching as she approached, her Dwarf-worthy breasts swaying in time with her walk. She rounded the two men lying on the ground, both of whom were trying to get to their feet now that they were free. Smythe tensed, ready to defend them if she attacked, but she did not even glance at them as she passed. Helping each other, the two men began to limp off.

"Vayani," Solovir breathed in awe as he went to one knee. Induin and Liaren followed suit. The humans looked at Smythe questioningly, but he didn't know what to tell them.

"Get those two out of here," he told the woodcutters, nodding to the injured men. Hesitantly, they did as instructed while keeping a wary eye on the woman.

"A puzzling discovery," the woman said when she stopped a few feet away. Tall enough to look Smythe in the eye, her expression was unreadable as her gaze passed over him, and then on to Solovir and the twins. Her voice was husky, with a sighing quality that reminded Smythe of a gentle breeze pushing through a glade. "An arohim, an Alda'rendi and two youngling Eryn'elda, if I am not mistaken." She crossed vine-entwined arms beneath her breasts and went silent.

Solovir spoke first. "It is the greatest of honours, Eryn'tari. I am not worthy." He kept his eyes on the ground while he spoke. Smythe tried to read the woman with his vala, and found her to be even more alien than Solovir. She felt more like a tree than a sentient being.

"I have been watching, little brother," Vayani said to Solovir. "And listening."

Solovir merely nodded. "I felt you, Eryn'tari. I hope I have not displeased you." Smythe had never seen Solovir so humbled. It looked strange on the usually proud and aloof Elf. From what Smythe knew of Elvish, Eryn'tari meant 'Queen of the Forests,' or something close to it. Smythe could only think of one being that would hold that title; he had heard Solovir speak of her before.

"I am displeased," Vayani said, her voice hardening. Solovir flinched. "But not with you. My children are suffering." She gestured to the surrounding trees, leaving no question as to who her children were. "Rava and Vasuda are ravaging my realm, and when Agni awakens from his slumber, matters will grow worse, I fear. They were always the worst of us, those three."

Smythe was doing his best to translate what he was sensing from this creature, but he had never encountered anything like her in his life. To him, she was a swirl of currents, some peaceful and soothing, others deadly, threatening to pull the unwary under and drown them. She was so far different from Human or Elf or Dwarf that Smythe may as well not use his vala at all. Suddenly her penetrating gaze fell on him. "And what thoughts are in your mind, Child of Aros? You behold me as if I vex you."

"Forgive me," Smythe began, bowing formally with one hand over heart and the other over his shoulder on Lightbringer's hilt. It was an old form, but he felt it best to show as much respect as he could until he knew more. Who knew what powers a being such as this could wield? "I wish not to offend, Eryn'tari, but I am curious as to the purpose of your appearance." From the corner of his eye, he saw Solovir shoot him a sharp look, and Induin and Liaren shifted nervously where they knelt.

"You are brave, child," she said quietly as she moved to stand in front of him. She was so close that her breasts almost brushed his coat, and those brilliant eyes flashed. Despite her awesome presence, Smythe couldn't help but find her remarkably beautiful. "To question one of the Utok'lakapa. Our actions are often beyond the understanding of ones such as you." Smythe thought he felt anger from her, yet again it was different, boundless, like trying to understand the depths of the ocean or the limits of the skies. "Yet perhaps you are right to ask, at this time." Smythe blinked when she held up a hand close to his face and made a small daisy appear between her fingers. Her lush, dark lips curved in a beautiful smile, then, flashing white teeth as she tucked the blossom behind his ear. He didn't know whether to be grateful at the evaporation of her sternness or unnerved at the sudden change in demeanour. She stepped back a little, then, and looked down at the kneeling Elves. "Rise, my children," she told them. They obeyed quickly, and Solovir's eyes widened when he saw the daisy behind Smythe's ear. Was there some significance to the gesture? He had the sudden urge to pull the flower free, but he stayed his hand.

"I fear for my realm," Vayani said. "As you fear for your world. Once, we were the guardians of this world, but then the days grew dark, and our powers were turned against the very realms which we were made to protect. Maharad shadowed our spirits, though he wanted some of us more than others." A grimace crossed her features briefly, as if remembering something unpleasant. "I was never as strongly in his grip as the others were. I believe he considered me less powerful than my kin, and I suppose he was correct, in many respects." She looked around at the trees. "My trees do not destroy with fire and and fury and shattering earth. They seek only to grow, to thrive, to support all other life. Maharad saw little use in such things, and so I was spared from the twisting that ensnared my kin."

Smythe couldn't believe what he was hearing. Vayani was never under Maharad's grip? Another glimmer of light in the darkness? Or a false hope? It would be just like Maharad to make them believe she was not, all to serve his own ends. How could Smythe be sure she was trustworthy? "You will believe what I say, or not," Vayani continued, as if she'd read his mind. "It matters not, for my intentions will not be changed. I seek to restore the balance, and so I lend myself to the Anarion and his people."

"You honour us greatly, Ancient One," Solovir said, offering a deep bow. "What do you ask of tribute?"

In answer, Vayani lifted a hand and pointed a slim finger at Smythe. "Him."

***

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20.3: Storms

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Erik glanced back over his shoulder at the looming peaks of the Karvani's, growing ever more distant by the day as the group travelled east across the rolling Sorral Plain, the sea of shifting grass so vast it seemed endless. He felt guilty for leaving Suravale to fend for itself, but truly, the people there didn't need him any more; in a month or two the ruins of an ancient city would be home to a quiet town, and if new people continued to come in, within a year it would be a city again. Erik hoped that it could be, anyway. Who knew what was to come?

The afternoon sun was well behind the mountains, leaving the plain in shade as group of ten travellers cut through the tall grasses, high enough to brush boots in stirrups. There were not enough horses to go around, so some rode double, or took turns walking for a time. Amina was not setting a furious pace, though her mood had been one of quiet determination since leaving the Temple. From his place at the rear of the group, Erik eyed the Priestess where she rode up front on a handsome dun stallion that Aran had brought back with him upon first coming to the Temple. Jeordane, Amina had named him, after a great poet of her age. Erik had read rare pieces of Jeordane's work - more difficult to find every year, and sought after by collectors the world over - and wished he could find more.

A sharp gust of wind made him pull his cloak close; while cooler down on the plain than it had been in the foothills a few days ago, the evenings were still chill enough to warrant a cloak as well as a stout coat beneath. A few of the others mirrored his motion, shrugging into their cloaks against the wind. All except Amina, anyway, who didn't seem to feel the cold at all. Her dark cloak lay over her horse's rump, forgotten as she stared off into the distance, her eyes fixed on something Erik could not see. Her long golden tresses streamed as the wind caught them, then settled only to be lifted again by the next gust. Strapped behind her saddle were two sheathed swords, both long and slightly curved, lying across the horse where the hilts would be in easy reach if needed. One had a dark hilt worked with silver, the other a silver hilt worked with gold. It was the first time Erik had seen Amina with them. He wanted to ask her about it, but each time he thought of it, he decided against it. Never had he seen Amina use a weapon of any description, but he had no doubt she knew how to wield those blades.

"What are you thinking about?" Sorla asked him suddenly. Looking to his left, he smiled at her. Even with her face shadowed by her cowl, Sorla's large, dark eyes were catching what little light remained of the day as they regarded him.

"Nothing much," he said, then realised that wasn't true. "Lots of things, actually, if I'm being honest." Sorla nodded as if she understood, and perhaps she did; she was a wise woman. Thinking of Sorla took Erik's thoughts down a slightly different road. "Do you feel anything from him?" There would be no question as to whom Erik was referring. She shrugged slightly.

"It is faint, most of the time, unless he is feeling something strongly," she replied slowly. "He is very far away. He is with someone, I think, and for the most part he is happy, but very focused."

"Are we talking about Aran?" Bella asked as she slowed her grey mare a little until she was riding abreast of Erik and Sorla. Dark of hair and eye, her pale oval face was nothing short of gorgeous. Her cheeks and nose were a little pink from the cold. Rayna rode behind her, arms tight around Bella's middle. With fiery red curls peeking out from beneath her cowl, she could not look any different from her friend with those high cheekbones and that fine nose and jawline, but she was no less beautiful. Bright blue eyes watched him as the two women waited for Erik's answer expectantly.

"We are indeed," he told them. "I was curious as to what Sorla has been feeling through the melda. I can only assume you all feel much the same as each other?" They nodded, confirming what he thought he knew. Along with Amina's quiet and almost brooding focus, Aran's meldin had all grown increasingly silent, as if a collective mood had settled over them all. From up ahead, Jeira looked back over her shoulder. She smiled briefly but warmly before resuming her chat with Lynelle. There had been something in her eyes, though, in that short moment. Erik couldn't quite place it, but he thought it might be related to the womens' mood of late.

It wasn't that they were sad, or upset, or anything so obvious. If Erik didn't know them as well as he did, he doubted he would have noticed anything at all, but he did. Sorla a touch too late to laugh at a joke here, or Bella with a smile that seemed only partially genuine there. Something was on their minds, and it was more than just leaving the Temple accounted for, he was sure. Giving in to his curiosity, Erik opened his mouth to ask what was going on but was cut short when Amina raised a hand sharply, halting the party. She turned her horse quickly, her brow drawn down and her face grave. "Remain here until I return," she said before wheeling the dun around and charging off, clods of earth and grass flying in her wake. Erik saw her reach back and pull her sword free before she disappeared from his sight over the crest of a small rise.

Confused and concerned looks were exchanged, but nobody moved to follow her. Amina could handle herself, no matter what was out there. Erik still felt compelled to go, but he was no fighter, and would only get in her way if there was danger. He nudged Quill's ribs with his heels and rode over to Ayla and Tavish, who were watching after Amina nervously. "Be easy," he told the par'vali. "She will return soon." They nodded uncertainly, and Tavish patted his sister's hands where they were clutched around his waist. Ayla thanked Erik and shot him a decidedly smoky look. Sudden warmth flooded his body, and for a moment he found it difficult to take his eyes off her face.

Since Sara had done whatever she'd done to Ayla, the girl had begun to transform at a much faster pace than before. Once a pretty young girl, plump from a soft life, now she was a ravishing beauty, with stunning brown eyes, shining chestnut hair and a sleek yet lush body. Ayla's vala was now fully awakened, as Erik understood, which meant she had access to her full power but still needed to learn how to control it, hence the surge of attraction Erik was now feeling for her. With an effort of will, he stamped it down, knowing it was not her intention, nor was it the time and place for such things. Her eyes widened as she realised what she'd done, and her cheeks flushed, which made her look even more beautiful.

"I'm sorry, Erik," she mumbled. "I'm trying to control it. I really am."

"Do not worry," he assured her. "It has done me no harm. You will find your way through this, I am sure." She smiled at him, flashing straight white teeth. She had been shooting him hot glances ever since they'd left the Temple, and Erik had frequently felt unexplained rushes of hot lust. He'd thought something was wrong with him, until he'd made the connection. Fortunately, the other women had been happy to divert his affections whenever Ayla's influence became overwhelming. Amina knew about it, too, and said nothing could be done until the girl learned how to harness it.

Tavish sighed and twitched his reins irritably. "Why couldn't Sara have done the same for me?" He complained, staring at the pommel of his saddle. "I could actually be useful, for once." A masculine mirror to his sister's features, he was still battling the vestiges of the softness his old life had left on him, though he was filling out with muscle thanks to his training. He would be a strapping lad, once he reached his prime. There was a depth to his dark eyes, now, as if he'd seen things no young man should have to see, which was true enough, Erik supposed, considering what he and Ayla had been through.

"I have no doubt about that," Erik said to him confidently. There was no point telling the boy that even with his vala, he still knew little about fighting, or the world outside his old manor in Maralon. "Amina says you are becoming stronger every day. She can handle herself, though, and we should trust in her judgement, no?" Tavish nodded begrudgingly. He was being too hard on himself, probably because his sister had just eclipsed him most spectacularly and he wanted to do better to keep up with her.

"Should I follow her?" Sylvia asked from where she was riding behind Lynelle. In a flash, she stood up on the horses rump, staring east. "Just to see if she's alright?"

Lynelle's hair swayed as she shook her head, and Erik firmly reminded Sylvia what Amina's instructions were. The per'Elda shot him a defiant green-eyed stare before sitting back down dejectedly. Sylvia always wanted to be in the centre of the action, but this time she would have to be patient. The sun sank lower as they waited, and eventually the plain was under the cover of twilight. Erik was about to suggest making camp for the night when Lynelle sat up straight in her saddle. "She comes. She appears unharmed."

Erik breathed a sigh of relief, and heard it echoed from other mouths. With Lynelle's Elvish eyes able to see much further and better than his in the dark, he waited for Amina to appear. He felt her before he saw her; that sense of peaceful belonging that he'd learned to identify as the effect of the vala. Jeordane finally cantered into sight, his rider straight-backed and proud, her perfect face serene. Erik started when he noticed the gleaming, silver length of the blade in her hand stained red with blood. "Come," she said quickly. "It is no longer safe where we are, I'm afraid. We must find shelter for the night." Without waiting for a response, she wheeled her horse and trotted off east. The rest of the party had no choice but to follow or be left behind.

Heeling Quill to catch up to her, Erik asked Amina what she found out there, but she didn't answer. Her head swivelled from side to side frequently, surveying their surroundings as if she expected an attack any moment. An attack from what? Darkspawn? Heralds? Knowing he wouldn't get a response from her until she was ready, he fell back a bit, wishing he knew how to use a sword, or a bow. Something useful, anyway. Sylvia rode with an arrow nocked, her keen eyes watching every direction, and the others fingered daggers or belt knives if they had them. The tension grew steadily as they rode on, and Erik wasn't sure he could bear it. If they're going to attack, let them do it and get it over with! This waiting is excruciating! Suddenly he became aware of gaps in the long grass, as if it were being weighted down in places. Dozens of shadowy holes faintly illuminated in the weak light from the rising moon. Erik let Quill pick his way carefully and made sure to steer him away from those voids.

"Darkspawn," Amina said softly from up ahead, just loud enough for Erik to hear. "Roaming the plain openly in packs." Erik tried to count the gaps in the grass, but there were too many too keep track of. Riding up to her side again, he opened his mouth to ask if she killed them all but shut it when he realised it was a stupid question. What else would she have done with them? Asked them politely to leave? The blood on her blade was proof enough.

"Do you sense any more?" He asked tentatively. She glanced at him briefly as her cowl swung in his direction.

"No, but I have not opened my vala enough to feel more than about a hundred yards around us. It would draw the attention of anything close enough to feel it." She nodded at a particularly large mound nearby about ten feet long and almost half as wide. "Trolls as well as Goblins, just like Henley spoke of at the Chapel."

"What does it mean?" Erik said, keeping his voice low. He checked over his shoulder, but the others were not close enough to hear.

"It means the world has been simmering for some time and is about reach the boiling point." As if to punctuate her words, thunder rumbled distantly, and Erik's eyes were pulled north by faint flickers of lightning.

"We don't have long to find shelter," he murmured, eyeing the sky nervously. A storm out here, where they were so exposed, was the last thing they needed.

"I found a suitable place earlier," Amina said smoothly. "Come." She angled Jeordane slightly south and nudged him to a canter. Erik dropped back, letting the others ride in front of him single file before bringing up the rear. Amina would be leading the horses through the tall grass safely, using her power to navigate any places a horse might misstep and break a leg. The column of ten riders wound like a snake under the night sky, eager to get to some semblance of cover.

***

Maloth woke from a light sleep, opening his eyes to see the wisps of silk that adorned the canopy above his bed. The numerous tall, arched windows around the room showed it dark enough outside to be night. He sat up, disturbing Velesande from where she'd been sleeping with her head on his chest. When had he fallen asleep? The Elf mumbled something, but he absently told her to leave him. He had other things on his mind. Her pale, lushly curved nudity did not draw his eye as it normally would as she slipped gracefully from the bed and left the room, only stopping to throw on a sheer silk robe that hung all the way to the floor.