A Paladin's War Ch. 02

"Jeira?" Sorla whispered. Her hushed voice trembled. Jeira quietly stood and went to the other woman, wrapping her cloak around them both as she settled in beside her. Sorla was shivering. "I had a bad dream."

"Me too," Jeira said soothingly as she slipped an arm around Sorla's narrow waist and pulled her in close. The fear of the nightmare was slowly receding, but something still felt off. "Me too. Was it Aran?" She felt Sorla's nod against her head.

Just then, two more figures nearby came awake with soft gasps, and Jeira didn't need to see their faces to know who they were. Softly, she called Rayna and Bella over to join her and Sorla, and soon the four women were huddled together. It was unsurprising to hear Rayna and Bella had had bad dreams, too. Something was happening to Aran, and it was affecting them all through the melda.

"The Heralds took me," Rayna said tremulously against Jeira's other shoulder. "They... hurt me. Aran came for me, and they killed him!" Jeira winced at that one; it had not been that long ago she'd lost Hamlin, killed right in front of her by a Druid. Still, she made soothing noises and stroked Rayna's hair as she began to weep. Bella went next. In her dream, she'd been made to watch as Aran and Smythe were executed in the town square of Ironshire to the thunderous cheers of the crowds.

Sorla's was perhaps the worst. In between sobs, the half-Orc described Aran succumbing to a beautiful woman with rose-coloured skin, and after, he killed Sorla with his bare hands, looking into her eyes as she died, his gaze lacking of remorse or pain. Despite her own pain brought on by the dreams, Jeira found herself comforting the other women, offering them soothing words and touches.

Wanting to alleviate the somber mood, Jeira said, "Look at us, sitting here and crying like little girls over a lost kitten." Even as she wiped her own eyes, she chuckled. It helped with the pain a little. She could not imagine Aran killing her; the very thought was alien.

Lifting her head from where it rested against Jeira's, Sorla nodded, and Jeira thought her full lips curved slightly around her short, fine tusks. "You are right, Jeira," she said in a stronger voice than before. "There is no point being miserable over something outside our control. We chose this life, and we must accept its hard moments as well as the joyful ones."

"And there have been many joyful ones," Bella added as she kissed Rayna softly on the cheek. Rayna nodded in agreement and smiled at her friend. The two women had a special three-way bond between themselves and Aran, and as such they were even closer than blood sisters or lifelong lovers.

"And there will be many more," Jeira assured them all, for herself as much as the others. "Whatever is happening with Aran right now, he must endure it on his own. As for us, we have each other, yes?" She looked at each of them in turn, and got smiles back. "I consider you all to be my sisters, and I hope that you feel the same." When the others all nodded eagerly and made sounds of agreement, she went on. "I have shared more with you three than any other person except for Aran, and I have spent more time with you than him. Whatever happens, I know that we can overcome it together." This was a side of herself that Jeira had never really accessed, she realised as she watched the other women watching her, listening quietly. She felt somehow responsible for Sorla, Rayna and Bella, and when she thought of Induin and Liaren, the same feelings applied, as if she were their older sister, the next thing to a mother. Strangely, she didn't feel quite the same about Elaina. Not that she didn't care for the woman, of course, but Elaina was a Paladin, and could look after herself well enough.

"I think you would make a most capable arondur, Jeira," Sorla told her. "I do not know how it can be done except for the way it was done for me; an oath sworn before my mother, who had sworn the oaths herself many years gone, but I am sure Amina will know, or perhaps Erik; he knows a surprising many things, that man."

"Thank you, Sorla," Jeira said gratefully. "I think I would like that." To be sworn to the Order, to be a part of the arohim and how they served the world - or would again serve the world one day - would be an enormous honour. She had never thought she would be anything more than a farmer's wife, milking cows and keeping house and helping in the fields, but here she was, on a grand, perilous adventure. Perhaps she should be taking notes; someone might want to read about all this, one day.

"We would like that, too," Bella said, meaning herself and Rayna. The two women often spoke for one another; it was something to do with the way their melda worked. "I mean, if you think we will be accepted," she finished with less certainty.

Sorla smiled. "You are all already aronduri in your hearts, and your actions. All that remains is to swear the oaths."

"What are they?" Rayna asked excitedly. "Can we say them now?" Jeira found herself waiting eagerly for Sorla's answer.

"I remember the words well enough," the half-Orc said slowly. "But I do not think it can be done now, as we are. I think it must be done before one of the Paladins or Amina."

Jeira frowned. "But didn't you say you swore before your mother?"

Sorla nodded. "Yes, but she swore before a Paladin. Because I have not done so, I cannot honour the oaths to another unless it is those of my own child." Rayna and Bella's shadowed faces looked a little crestfallen, and Jeira felt the same. Sorla apologised, but Jeira assured her there was no need.

"It will happen when it is meant to," she told the taller woman, giving her waist a squeeze. "And not before." When Sorla didn't respond, Jeira looked up at her face to see she was peering into the darkness over Rayna's head. "Amina is coming," she said softly. Sure enough, Amina flowed into sight a moment later, easily navigating the sleeping bodies of the others. Her steps made not a sound as she approached the small group huddled together beneath the elm.

"You all should be sleeping," she whispered as she squatted easily beside them, putting a hand under her cloak to adjust the hilt of her sword. There was no energy to her words, though, as if she was distracted. "We have hard days ahead." Jeira also noticed the calming aura that normally accompanied Amina's presence was absent. She couldn't see very well in the dark, but she thought the Priestess' brow was slightly furrowed.

"Something troubles you, Priestess," Sorla said, confirming Jeira's suspicions; Sorla's eyes could see thirty or forty paces even in pitch black.

Amina said nothing for long moments, but eventually sighed. "It is likely nothing," she began. "But I sense something is awry. I feel it in my heart."

"Darkspawn?" Bella asked nervously, but Amina shook her head.

"No. This is another danger entirely. If darkspawn were our only concern, I would be gladdened." She stopped, then, and looked at the four women before her. "I should not be adding more worries to your minds, especially when I am not sure of what bothers me. Forgive me, children."

"We had dreams," Jeira said suddenly. "Of the same nature. That is why we are awake. They were... awful."

"Dreams?" Amina said, her voice suddenly sharp, direct. "What dreams?" Jeira described some of the nightmares, and then the others took their turns. Amina listened intently, saying nothing until they were finished, and she remained silent for long moments after. A pregnant quiet fell over the camp, broken only by the chirping of the crickets and a fox yipping somewhere in the distance.

Just as Jeira was about to ask the Priestess what she thought, the woman finally spoke. "The four of you must be very careful," she said quietly, turning her face towards them. "The melda carries many benefits, but also very many dangers. Some of these dangers you know. Some you do not."

"What dangers?" Rayna asked softly. "Any knowledge would help us, Priestess."

Amina took a minute to answer. "I believe Aran may be on a journey through his own spirit, beyond space and time. I undertook a similar journey, many years ago, and the experience is far from pleasant. From what you say, and if I am correct, Aran is... learning things about himself he has yet to discover, to an extreme degree, and you are feeling this through the melda, even so far away as he is. For you to be feeling it this strongly, he must be feeling it very powerfully indeed."

Aran, please be alright, Jeira prayed silently as she listened. "What can we do, Priestess?"

"Nothing," Amina replied. "Except comfort one another when required. Give each other strength, courage. You all share a bond through your melda with Aran, and perhaps that is enough to help him through."

Jeira was getting the sense that this journey of Aran's might go on for some time, from the way Amina was speaking. When she asked as much, Amina answered, "I do not know when it will be finished, but something like this can take many days, or weeks, or even months. You should prepare yourselves for the fact that the man you knew before may be different when next you meet him." Whatever that meant, Jeira had not a chance to ask, for Amina rose smoothly and turned her backs to them. "Get some rest if you can," she said. "We will be moving on at first light." At that, she flowed back into the trees, her shape quickly lost among the deep shadows.

Fire and fury, Jeira thought with a chill as she looked after the Priestess. Now what? Huddling in closer to the other women, she sat with the silently, knowing as well as they did that more sleep would not be had this night.

*

Elaina tossed fitfully, unable to find proper rest on the small cot that had been found in the cellar; it had not felt right to sleep in the beds of Noah and Edda's family so soon after their deaths. The cot was not what troubled her, though; it was the dreams. Nightmare after horrible nightmare plagued her, each one worse than the one before. Some of them centred around Aran, while others were her own horror to endure alone. She relived moments of her past and experienced entirely new ones as if she was living a life that had branched off in a direction other than the path she walked now. One by one, the dreams came, snaring her in their clutches...

She was a young girl of fifteen again, all legs and arms and her head full of dreams of owning the biggest horse ranch in the West as she navigated the winding streets of her home town. She'd been feeling odd, of late. A hot, pulsing warmth had been flaring up inside her, making her feel giddy and sharpening her senses. Her mother had told her she was becoming a woman, but Elaina would bet a Rendari racer against the roughest plough nag that it was something more than just growing up could account for. She'd said nothing more of it, for there were dangers in having things whispered about you where the Heralds might hear. No few people had been hanged on suspicion of being arohim, and Elaina doubted whether the zealous Heralds really ever waited for proof.

The sun was low, having slipped behind the tall stone and brick buildings of Vesovar some time ago, plunging most of the town into shadow. The lamplighters would be out soon if they weren't already. Elaina should have been home by now; her mother was always going on about the streets not being safe at night, but Elaina had never had any troubles no matter how late out she stayed. Of course, there had been that time the drunk man had grabbed her and tried to drag her into an alley, but she'd gotten away just fine, and had taken no hurts. She'd chosen not to say anything to her mother and father upon returning home, but her mother had quickly spied the torn sleeve on her dress and grilled her until the truth came out. She'd been banished to her room and confined to the house for a month as punishment, as if she had been as much in the wrong as the drunkard!

So caught up in her thoughts was she that she didn't see the man coming out of a connecting street until she bumped into him. He was tall and solid, and looked down at her with distaste as she stepped back hurriedly. Clad in a burnished breastplate embossed with a red sunburst and gauntlets and helm of the same style, the Herald sneered as he hitched his brilliant red-trimmed yellow cloak over his shoulders, as if she were dirty and the cloak could ward away her filth.

"Watch where you're going, girl," he growled before stalking off down the street, stiff-backed and rigid. Elaina glared after him, hot anger flaring in her belly. Every time the Heralds came to Vesovar, they walked around like they owned the town and everyone in it, ordering people to do this and that and making people so scared of being questioned that many avoided going outside at all.

"There's no need to be rude!" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Halfway across the paved street, the Herald stopped mid-stride and spun on his heel, his blue eyes pinning her to the spot. Passing townsfolk quickened their steps when they saw his face, eager to be away.

Fear rooted Elaina to the spot, making her feet as heavy as lead. The Herald took her roughly by the arm and brought his hard face in close to hers. "What did you say to me?" He asked softly, the way a knife is drawn softly across a whetstone.

Elaina's tongue was cloven to the roof of her mouth. She thought the Herald would be able to hear her heart hammering inside her chest like it wanted to pound its way through her ribs. "Speak, girl!" He shouted, shaking her. He was strong, his grip like iron. Somehow, she managed to stammer an apology. The Herald grunted, his expression not changing a whit. "How old are you, girl?" He asked suddenly.

"Fif- fifteen, sir," she replied quickly. Why did that matter? Unless... Oh, no.

"Have you been tested, girl?" he demanded. She could smell his breath he was so close.

Her stomach turned to ice. Nobody really knew what happened during the so-called 'testing,' but Elaina had seen Gerne Runa - a silversmith who lived not far from where she now stood - after he'd been taken for testing by the Heralds. Gerne had been an uncommonly handsome man until he'd emerged from whatever the Heralds had subjected him to. Now his face was a mess of scars from cuts and burns. Gerne kept to himself mostly, these days, letting his wife deal with customers while he worked out of sight, but Elaina had once caught a glimpse of his disfigured face. It was like a different man altogether.

Then there were the ones who never returned from questioning. Word always got around soon after they vanished that they'd left town or died from natural causes or some accident, but Elaina had trouble swallowing that.

"Yes," she lied, willing to do anything to avoid Gerne's fate. I need to get away!

"By whom?" The man demanded. "When? What is your name, girl?" He straightened, keeping a firm grip on her arm. "You will come with me, I think, until I have checked the records of the testing done in this curse-ridden town." Before she could say anything, he began to march back the way he had come, dragging her along behind him.

"Please!" She begged, pulling frantically, trying to get free. "I am telling the truth!" Hot tears streamed down her face. She was desperate. Have to get away! This is wrong! This is not supposed to happen! She didn't know where that last thought came from, but she didn't care. A powerful vibration ran through her, a white-hot heat that coursed through her veins and pumped new strength into her muscles. Suddenly, she was free of the Herald's grip and running like a spring hare from a fox. Her legs were long, for her age, and she ate ground quickly, but her newfound speed was gone as soon as it had come. She faltered as she felt the heat drain from her, and she stumbled around the corner, back out into the main street. As she passed the corner, something hard hit her on the head and her legs folded like paper. She caught herself on her hands and turned her head to see another Herald standing over her, grinning as he bounced a club on his palm. He was speaking, but the words sounded garbled in her ears, and her vision swam with the pain in her skull.

I was meant to get away, was her last thought before her face hit the pavement.

She was sitting on the ground with her back against the broad trunk of an oak tree, naked as the day she was born with her wrists bound at the small of her back. Her head was hurting as if she'd been struck, and she winced as she lifted her chin from her chest, the movement causing fresh pain. Late afternoon sun slanted through the trees, glinting off the yellow-eyed stare of the man squatting before her, as naked as she. Fit and handsome, in a shaggy, rough sort of way, his face was hard as he regarded her with eyes that belonged more on a wolf than a man. Something about the angles of his face made her think of a wolf, too.

There were grunting noises coming from nearby, and high-pitched moans, though Elaina was having trouble focusing. She reached for the power that lay inside her and found nothing. Panic gripped her, and she tried again to no avail. Where is my vala? Has Aros forsaken me?

Desperate, she began to struggle against her bonds, but the wolf-like man seized her throat with a big hand and pinned her to the tree, quelling any chance she had of escape. She spat at him, even as she struggled to breathe.

Not bothering to wipe away the spit on his cheek, he increased the pressure on her throat. He was strong, easily cutting off her air. "Where is he?" His voice was a low growl. When he eased back on her throat to allow her to speak, she remained silent apart from taking deep, welcome breaths. Whatever he wants, I will not give it to him!

"I will ask one more time," he said with barely suppressed anger, his eyes flashing. "And then I will set about making you answer me. Where is the one who killed my brother? I know you know him. You reek of his stink!"

Aran. He's after Aran. But who is this man's brother? Her thoughts were still muddled from the blow to the head, but suddenly everything clicked into place. The man's eyes and features, so much like a wolf, and Aran killing that direwolf at Jeira's farm... Oh, Fire and Fury! They're Druids! The noises she'd heard earlier came further into focus, and from the corner of her eye she could see bodies moving rhythmically on the forest floor, rutting almost savagely. Two women and two men, or at least that's what it looked like.

A grim smile crept over the wolfish man's face when she failed to answer him. "Very well. You have made your choice. Leif! Fergin!" He didn't look away from her as two men appeared behind him. They stood looking down at her, one short yet heavily muscled, the other a broad-shouldered mountain of a man, larger than Henley and a head taller. Both leered at her nudity, their loins - too large to belong on Human men - still hard and glistening from whatever they'd been doing a moment ago. Two women wandered over with them, one dark and slender, the other pale and lush.

"What is it, Braith?" The big man said in a bass voice as he ran hungry eyes over Elaina. She could feel his gaze like oil on her skin, but she refused to shy away.

"Do what you will with her, but don't kill her," Braith replied, releasing her throat. "She will lead us to the other one once we've broken her." A ball of ice formed in her stomach. There was no question as to what these brutes were going to do with her, and without her vala, her body would not handle their treatment well. She could already feel herself tearing as they forced their way inside her. She kicked and fought as the men stepped in and seized her, easily subduing her flailing with their strong hands and arms until they slung her over a fallen log, belly down. They laughed and made rough jokes as the shorter one held her still on the log while the other placed huge hands on her bottom, gripping until she felt tears in her eyes from the pain. Even the women joined in, encouraging the men with lewd suggestions. Her last thought before pain ripped through her lower body was that this wasn't how it was meant to be. Something was supposed to happen, wasn't it? Something to save her from this! Aros has forsaken me, but I will not give them Aran!