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 Post by Garvey on 05/17/2004 at 01:47:19
A strong wind blew through the green trees, carrying the scent of foxes and rabbits, causing acorns to clatter on the dirt ground. The setting sun peered down through the high tree tops, filling the forest with a multitude of crooked golden columns that seemed to hold the green roof of the world. SNAP! I twisted around towards the sound, just in time to see a silver shape burst out of the bushes. It slammed into me, and I could feel the slightest prick of teeth at my neck. I rolled to the right and flung him from me with all my strength. He rolled off, but not far, and he jumped at me again. It was a mad tussle of fur, black and silver. Teeth against teeth, legs and tails nipped. I was on top and then him. I felt his claws scraping into my hind legs, and I twisted to push his head down with my fore legs. He broke free of me just as I heard a laugh like rainfall. We both stopped, tongues hanging from our mouths as our breath flowed upwards in the crisp air. "You two look like a pair of fresh pups," she said, giggling. She stood atop a large rock looking down at us. "Brona," I panted. Her fur was slightly more red than brown, and her eyes held a tint of green. She was slighter of size than either of us, but still strong and full of life. Her tail wagged high in the air, and her ears were perked. I knew my tail was doing likewise. And so was Grendel's. Grendel had fur that was the color of the silver of the moon. When he was born, it had been considered an ill omen, and our grandmother had sacrificed a young doe to appease the spirits of our ancestors. Brona jumped down between us, a wide smile on her face. “Come on, boys. I thought we were hunting.” She twisted around and took a little nip at my hind, and then darted though the woods. We gave chase. She was a streak of orange though the trees, dancing around and blending into the orange twilight. She weaved left, then right, and then left again. She twisted her head back to glance at us again and again. Grendel was fast and he was gaining on her, though I was right on his tail. I could smell her scent on the air, faint but still there. It was like a rope pulling me forward and after her. I cut off to the right, but Grendel kept straight after her. I cut across to where I thought she would go. I thought I might have made a mistake, but then I heard the rustle of leaves beneath her feet ahead and to my left. I kept pace, and then saw her blurred through the trees. Leaping, I felt myself collide against her. We rolled on the ground, and for a moment we were alone. I breathed in her smell as we rolled in the leaves and ground, wrestling each other. Then Grendel bounded in, screeching to a halt in front of us. Brona and I disengaged and lay on the ground, panting. Minutes later, we were back on the path, Grendel leading the way. “Are you sure you know the way?” I asked him as he sniffed the ground. Grendel glanced up at me. “Quiet, Cal, I've almost... There it is! This way.” He had caught the scent of the path again. As we walked, the trees grew taller and wider, and the number of leaves faded. The path was correct. It was told among the Weir that the great forest of Arden connected all places. Many told that it was Arden, and not the lost Fanelia of legends, that was the true birthplace of all Weir. If one knew the path, one could wander through the woods to any of the kingdoms of man. The paths were hard to find and slow, however, and the speed of the Singers was far greater. In addition, Arden held more than trees, and many of its denizens made even the bravest of the Weir pause. They say the place was guarded by a silver prince of the Golden City, brother of the Rose, and that he rode a fearsome demon. Rumors also say that young Weir pups were his favorite prey. Stories to scare children, I was sure; but all the same, I was glad that we did not have far to go. “Vessa told me that there were manticores still in the woods," Brona said, causing both of us to laugh. “Tis true!” she cried. “Molan told Vessa that he'd spoken with some Dreen who'd had shown him the spikes from the tails of the 'cores they'd hunted.” If Molan had said it, it might be true. He was one of the bravest in our pack, and it was no surprise that Brona's sister, Duvessa, had bonded herself to him. However, many Weir from many tribes were saddened by her decision, for her beauty was spoken of across the realms. I'd often wondered whether they'd speak of Brona in the years to come. She was different from her sister, but they shared some special quality. Grendel chuckled again. “That's a long chain of communication. I bet those Dreen were just lying, or maybe they got them from their ancestors who helped to rid these woods of the beasts. Everyone knows the 'cores are all dead now. Besides, its the hound's blood I'm interested in.” “Maybe.” replied Brona. “Still, I wouldn't speak ill of the Dreen. You know they'd be overjoyed at finding three wild Shanties roaming through their territory. If they were to hear you, they'd be in a rage and spend all night cutting you apart.” “She's right, Gren - the Dreen are the only Weir crazy and mean enough to still live in these woods. I think Duvessa might be telling you too many scary stories, Brona. Don't believe everything she says.” “I dunno, Cal.” Brona said quietly. “Want to know what Vessa told me the other night?” “Wait,” cried Grendel. “It was about dragons, right? She told you the Oran were hunting dragons, yeah? OW!” Brona had bit his tail. “Sorry, sweets, you know I just tease,” he said mirthfully. Brona ignored him and continued. “It was about you, Cal.” She was even quieter now. “She said that Saorla had ordered Molan to watch over you. That's why he doesn't run with your mother on the hunt no more. He has to guard you. She doesn't know from what, though.” There was a long pause, before Grendel lightened the mood. “Maybe she's just worried that you're gonna hurt yourself. That her little boy might get hurt by a nasty squirrel!” “Hey!” I yelled, and I snapped at him. I was about to pounce on him and remind him how he might get hurt if he didn't stop his teasing, but then Brona spoke again. “Maybe it's 'cause of your father, Cal.” I stopped in my tracks. There was an unspoken rule among us and our fellows not to speak of my father. They were afraid and I was ashamed. They were scared because it was said he was a dark sorcerer, and that when he wielded a sword, nothing could stand against him. I was ashamed because he was man, and not of the people. He came once a year to visit, always on the new moon; though I suspected my mother was meeting him in secret as well. I felt inside myself, and I could sense the gift he had given me six years back. It was a beautifully crafted knife sharper than any we had, and that burned almost like silver. Its hilt was adorned with a beautiful woven cross shape and the same pattern was replicated on the blade, whose steel was like the pale hue of the moon. When he gave it to me, he told me to always carry it, and that I must be strong and powerful. He told me I would lead my people to glory, and that one day, he would come for me and show me his magic, the magic that would let me walk through Shadows and unite all of our people together. Part of me felt ashamed that he was man, and that the others looked at me like I was too, but part of me felt proud. He had a way about him, and I could not help but love him as well. He was powerful and honest, and I could not refuse him. One day, I knew, he would come for me. It was almost an hour later that we next spoke. “I think I found a scent. Cal?” Grendel was sniffing the ground. I went over to the spot and breathed in deep of the earth. There was a fierce smell that raised the hairs of my neck. A smell of blood and something else. “Hell hound,” I said softly. “And fresh too. It'll probably be nearby.” “How many?” Brona asked. “One, I think” said Grendel and I nodded. “Don't worry Brona, you can just sit back and watch. Cal and I will get you the teeth for your necklace, and a cup of its blood while we're at it.” I smiled and nodded. Brona brushed up against Grendel's neck. “You forget that I can get pretty fierce myself at times. Maybe I'll teach you boys a thing or two.” I could hear a quiet purring from her now. Grendel and I both thought the stories about magic of hell hound teeth were nonsense, another of Duvessa's crazy stories, probably passed down from my grandmother. We went along anyway though. I don't remember if it was Gren or I that told her we'd fetch her the teeth, but after that neither of us could let the other go alone with her. We might be best friends but we didn't trust each other that much. Besides it was a well known fact that the fresh blood of a hell hound gives one extra vigor and makes one irresistible to females. After all, Eavan had told Grendel and I all about it just a few nights ago. “Lets find it and teach those hounds a lesson about the power of the children of the moon.” and with that I bounded down through the woods following the scent. We came upon it about fifteen minutes later sleeping between the roots of one of Arden's ancient trees. It wasn't as big as I had imagined it would be. It was smaller than any of us, but under its short black fur I knew it had skin as tough as leather. It was curled into a ball, beams of moonlight cast all about, but it still lay in shadow. Brona went around and approached the rear while Grendel went to the left. I started to approach from the right. Grendel had decided to make the first strike. He was almost on it when I saw it. Its eyes were half open. It was awake! I started to yell but it leapt up with a speed I wouldn't have imagined possible. Blood flew in the air as it tore into Grendel's side. Grendel's scream pierced my ears as I charged at the hound. My teeth bit into its hide, but it felt like I was just scratching it. I didn't even draw blood. Grendel screamed again as it ripped into him. The hot spray of his blood splattered against my face. The hound twisted itself and threw me down. When I looked up the hound was still tearing into Grendel but he wasn't moving. Brona snapped at the hounds leg, trying to draw it away from Gren, but the beast just turned and swiped at her, slashing at her neck. Drawing myself up, I felt the strength of the moonlight filling me, and I charged straight at it, putting all my weight against it. It must not have seen me, because it wasn't bracing well against me. The hound went flying into the tree it had been resting against. I didn't let up and charged again. I bit into it and this time I drew blood. Then I felt its teeth, like razor blades, they sliced into my skin. The pain was excruciating, but a fury had come over me. I ripped into its hide, but it was tearing into me even quicker and there was no question that at this rate it would be the one to walk away. Its teeth let up for a moment and I saw a reddish form tearing at its hind quarters. For a moment it didn't know who to attack, but then it decided to deal with the new threat. Bloody and torn it turned on Brona. I tried to hold it back, but I was too weakened and it easily pulled itself from my grip. It lunged at Brona, but it's injuries slowed the beast enough for her to dodge to the side. They danced for almost a minute, and that was enough. Where blood and flesh were gone, moonlight filled me. I saw the silver form of my cousin and together we tackled the beast. It was a mad frenzy of blood and fur, but finally it ceased moving and the three of us stood above its torn corpse, now just a mess of flesh. Looking up at the beautiful moon I willed the change to come over me and I took the form of man. What few wounds I had were healing rapidly and within minutes they would just be reddish blotches on my skin. All three of us were covered in the blood of the hound and of each other. I pulled out my knife and bent low to the creature. The scent of blood was overwhelming; if there were any other scavengers about they'd be drawn here in a hurry. Of course, the screams wouldn't have hurt either. As I began to work, I saw that both Grendel and Brona had followed my lead. Brona's curly red hair was matted with blood, and I could see a weariness in her that even moonbeams couldn't cure. “We should hurry,” she said. Her voice was softer and gentler now in this form, and I forgot my lingering pain. “I'll be done in just a sec”, Grendel said as he filled a glass jar with the thick red liquid that was still flowing from the creature. “See that wasn't that...” his voice cut out suddenly and I looked over at him, but his eyes were focused on something behind me. A shimmering white form flowed through the air towards us. No, wait, it wasn't flying, the figure was riding some kind of dark shape. I barely had time to raise my knife to guard myself, before it was upon us. He was huge man wearing white scaled armor that glimmered in the moonlight. He had long black hair flowing over his shoulders and bright blue eyes. The horse however quickly drew my attention. It was the most magnificent and terrifying creature I had ever seen. It's eyes were dead pale, and its coat was all gray. It reared up and stamped its steel colored hooves into the ground, snorting with clear anger. I heard the sounds of other hooves, though of smaller, lighter horses, as well as the feet of more hounds. My eyes remained fixed on the monstrous creature in front of me. It raised up again and went to stamp its hooves into me. I rolled to the side and the horse missed crushing my shoulder by just two inches. “M'lord Julian, they are just children! They can't be more than fifteen years of age.” said a voice, presumably one of the famed rangers of Arden. He was holding back two more hounds, and these looked much bigger than the one we had killed. Had that one just been a pup? Or did these rangers breed their hunting hounds to be even bigger than the wild variety. “By the unicorn, is that one of our hounds? How could they...” said another. This ranger was a tall, skinny man with a slightly hooked nose. There was a look of amazement upon his tan face. I noticed that he, along with most of the other rangers had leveled crossbows upon us. Brona, Grendel and I had all gathered with our backs together. We must have looked truly bizarre, a trio of scared children, covered in blood, and standing by a dead mutilated dog. I held my knife at the ready. I knew I should have been swearing that I'd take his eye or something if he moved towards us, but all I wanted was to get out of there still breathing. “They're not children!” the white rider cried as he dismounted. “Load your silver bolts, Dennison." he told the hooked nose ranger, with a evil grin. "These foul pests are Weirmonken,” and he drew his sword. “You maggots will suffer for killing one of my hounds. How dare you come into Arden. I will rid my forest of all of your kind.” I heard the notching of arrows all about us. “It is our forest” I said, though not as bravely as I had intended, and I stood, my knife before me. I tried to reflect some moonlight from the blade into his eyes to distract him. Hopefully I'd buy some time for the others to run. Brona and Grendel could outrun normal horses, but not that gray beast. I only hoped that I could buy them enough time. The light from my knife flowed across his face, as he moved forward to strike. I readied myself, perhaps I could dodge his first swing and get in close to him. I'd have to go for the face; I didn't know how tough his armor was. Suddenly, as his blade was about swing, he stopped and drew back. His eyes were locked on my knife, or more precisely on the sigil inscribed on the blade. “You . . . I had no . . . you are . . . " he said, stunned. He turned, slamming his sword back into his sheath. "Damn it! Just. . . get the hell out of here. I don't like uninvited guests." His rangers looked as shocked as I was. Julian, as his men had called him, leapt back up into mount's saddle, as if unburdened by his white armor. “Go. NOW!” he yelled. We were shocked, but not stupid. We ran and we ran. I kept imagining that I heard a hunting horn, but nothing came after us. A little over an hour later, we stopped to rest. None of us could understand why he had let us go. There was no way we could have beaten them, and I doubted I could have done him any harm with my knife. We counted ourselves lucky to have survived. Brona suggested that perhaps our ancestors had watching over us and had scared Julian. For once I wasn't going to question her superstitions, though the ancestor I was thinking of wasn't quite dead. Once we were past the edge of that realm of Arden, we stopped at the edge of a small pond. We all stripped and dove in, washing the blood from our skin. It wouldn't do to have our parents catch us covered in blood and sneaking back to the camp late at night. We chatted about our 'glorious' battle against the hell hound, exaggerating our feats and downplaying our fears. We talked about how we would given those rangers a fight for their lives if they hadn't backed off, ignoring the fact we would have been slaughtered. We dove under the water, and Grendel and I raced across the pond; he won. Grendel kept swimming back and forth in the water, his tan body barely visible in the darkness, while Brona and I rinsed the clothes. We watched Grendel's silver hair ride across the surface of the water and occasionally dipping underneath. I turned my head and look at Brona. Her delicate fingers were rubbing a stone across the fabric of Grendel's shirt, while she hummed a song. It sounded like the kind I'd heard Eavan singing of late with my mother. When my mother had discovered the Voice in Eavan, she had been pulled aside and her instruction into the art of Singing had begun. Grendel and I hadn't seen as much of her since then. I wondering if Brona had the Voice and if she too would be gone from our trio soon. As much as I missed Eavan on these little adventures, I think I would miss Brona even more, but for different reasons. I couldn't help but grin as I looked over her naked body, her pale wet skin glimmering in the light. “Yes, Cal?” he said softly. “Ah, I..., uh. I, uh, got this for you,” I stammered as I pulled it out of the pants I was washing. I held it up between my fingers, a beautiful long tooth from the hell hound we had slain. I placed it into her open hands, and she cradled it as though it was as fragile as an egg. “I didn't have time to get any more, they were hard to dig out, and uh,” I stopped as I felt her lips kiss my cheek. It felt like my face glowed so much that they would light up all of woods. Water suddenly flew up at us as Grendel popped his head above the surface. “What are you two talking about, huh?” “Nothing 'bout you silly. Cal's just being weird.” SPLASH! She had pushed me back into the pond. “Cool him off Gren.” she chided. “My pleasure!” and he tackled me, dragging me under the water. Two days later I saw Brona wearing the tooth round her neck. I don't know what kind of magic Duvessa had told her it had, but she never removed it. She still had it on, even on the day she died. |
