Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty: Where Vultures Fly

During the first ten days of the return journey back to Kandalare, the weather had been hot and dusty. There was no relief from the heat; other than the mouthfuls of tepid water, Donovan swallowed to rinse the dust and grit from his mouth. The sun was starting to set, and the prince was hoping for a more refreshing night.

“Brother, something big must have died to the South of us. There are a lot of vultures circling in the air. Sather’s corners are over there, isn’t it?” Changa asked.

“Yes, there are six farm-steads over there. After what’s happened, we better check to make sure they’re alright. We don’t need another Drennard!”

Donovan spurred Thunder into a gallop, leading them towards the circling scavengers. Half an hour later, he slowed their pace as he discovered what had occurred here was over a day old. Something had destroyed the simple thatched-roof home and barn. The wooden beams of the simple home lay shattered on the ground, and limestone and clay walls had rent asunder. Prince Donovan dismounted and tied his horse to a tree and started searching for tracks.

“Donovan, you better come and see this!” Arthur pulled part of the thatched roof aside, revealing the hard clay floor of the once simple home. Mathew was assisting Changa, in moving a broken wooden beam out of the way. Emec tossed a couple of pieces of limestone to the side, helping to clear the way. Suddenly, both Mathew and Emec stepped back as Changa stared at something before him.

“What could have done this? A raken?” the Wind Walker asked.

Davis walked over to Donovan and handed one of two burning torches to him. The additional flickering light helped immensely. With a nod, the prince took the torch and walked toward the ruined home. A large splash of blood covered part of the hard clay floor and had dried into a solidified mass. A dark red splatter decorated the one standing limestone wall and two roof beams, completing the grisly picture.

Whatever had struck here, had done so viciously with immense power and fury. Donovan turned away and stepped toward Mathew and Davis, who both were still staring at something before them. As the prince approached, he saw it was a woman’s slender barefoot sheared off cleanly above the ankle.

“What, could do such a thing?” Donovan pondered silently.

Before the search was over, they found four other splashes of blood. Donovan and the others found one large and three smaller splashes of blood. Whatever had fed here had not left behind any clues to tell them what had killed them. Two hours later, they discovered the situation at the other five farmsteads was similar: no bodies, only great splashes of blood. Prince Donovan stepped over a shattered cart to study an ox, which was missing its back half.

Donovan heard Mathew’s voice. “Easy boy! We’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe now!”

The back of the ruined home faced a small, slow-flowing stream. Arthur and Davis knelt beside someone dark standing between them. Donovan ran to see who they had found and slowed to a walk, upon realizing it was a boy about eight, maybe nine years of age. The lad stood there, covered in black dried mud from head to toe.

The child’s wide, frightened eyes stared at them from his black mask. He was shaking uncontrollably, and no matter what they did, he continued to do so. With great care, Prince Donovan worked at washing off the caked-on filth, until no further trace of mud lingered. Throughout the process, the boy never uttered a word. The brown-haired, brown-eyed waif was dressed in spare clothing and bundled in Donovan’s blanket.

“There’s no telling what did this or if it might return. We need to get the boy away from here also.” Donovan led the child over to his horse.

The prince mounted Thunder, and Mathew placed the child in front of him. He waited for the others to mount-up as the boy continued to shake and shiver. As far as Prince Donovan was concerned, they couldn’t leave Sarther’s Corners fast enough. With a light kick, he urged Thunder into a gallop, and they left the destroyed farmsteads receding in the distance behind them.

After about five miles, they made camp at an old familiar site Donovan had used on previous journeys to Etria. Sir Alfred made a wholesome soup of barley and beef, which they ate with small grain loaves. Prince Donovan gave a wooden bowl full of soup, a little grain loaf, and a wooden spoon to the boy. The child ate slowly, staring blankly and remaining silent. Afterward, he merely sat there, shaking from head to toe.

Donovan shared his bed and blankets with his new charge. The boy continued to shake until he finally fell asleep. The prince lay quietly beside the child while speculating what could have killed these families? What could tear an ox in two? Most of all, Prince Donovan thought about what could frighten one so severely where they could no longer speak? During his pondering, he drifted asleep.

Eleven days later, Donovan saw Kandalare appear out of the horizon and smiled tiredly. He gladly led his men through the Watch Tower Gates and nodded silently to the guards. They continued to the Dawn Breaker Mounted Brigade stables at the Military Annex. There Changa, Donovan, and the boy parted company with the rest of the men, who retired to their quarters.

The three of them continued towards Kelner’s Bastion, eager to be out of the heat and wanting to rest. Half an hour later, they entered the front grounds. A Royal Groom lifted the boy and set him on his feet and took Thunder’s reins from Donovan, who had dismounted.

“King Tarran and Queen Katherine are awaiting your arrival in the Royal Dining Room, Prince Donovan.”

Donovan took the boy’s right hand and led the way through the oak double doors into the Great Hall. With a smile and a nod, the prince led the boy and Changa past two guards into the Royal Dining Room. His father’s face looked hollow and gaunt with dark shadows under his eyes. It appeared as if he had not slept much lately. His mother looked tired also.

“What is it? What has happened?” Donovan asked.

His mother had tears in her eyes. She managed a half-smile. “We’ll talk about it in a few minutes, my son. How about your journey, did all go well?”

“Princess Morgan was returned to her father in Etria without mishap. However, King Aramus refused even to read the treaty and alliance papers. He stated the destruction of Drennard resulted because we had attacked another of our allies,” Donovan patiently explained.

“Of all the absurd ideas. Has the man gone daft?” King Tarran asked while sitting in his carved high-back chair.

“It was impossible to reason with him. Immediately afterward, the lot of us were escorted out of Etria by armed guards. At least for now, we cannot count on any assistance from them.” Donovan met his father’s steely gaze with one of his own.

“Whom might I ask, is your little follower?” His mother stepped forward and approached with a pleasant smile. She crouched low and spoke to the lad, but he remained as silent as ever.

In measured terms, Donovan relayed to both of his parents what his small force had discovered at Sarther’s Corners. The shocked expression on their faces said it all. It was as if it was the straw that had broken the ox’s back. “I plan on taking the boy to the clergy so that he will be cared for properly,” Donovan said solemnly.

“You’ll do no such thing; the child’s a nervous wreck. It’s been far too long since a child’s laughter has filled these cold stone halls and rooms. We will take him in ourselves,” Queen Katherine said. She looked at King Tarran and Donovan with eyes filled with determination.

Donovan nodded, and his father lifted his hands in mock defense, surrendering with a slight smile on his face. His mother called forth a page and said something to him in a lowered voice. A minute later, the page led the boy from the room, leaving them alone to talk. King Tarran stood to face Changa and Donovan while holding a goblet. It was clear from his father’s actions; something significant had happened in their absence.

“Seeing as this is a time for bad news, listen closely. On the morning you left for Etria, a Centaur Patrol was found slaughtered along the North-Eastern Border of the Plains of Delwar. All of them were found to have been killed by arrows resembling our own,” King Tarran said quietly.

Donovan stared at his father in shock.

“You can imagine the uproar it caused among your people, Changa. As a result, your father formally agreed to a Great Council meeting to be conducted ten days later, so all could attend and discuss their concerns,” King Tarran added, before taking a sip from the cup in his hand.

“My father would not have taken such a drastic step unless he truly felt it was needed,” Changa commented while shaking his head.

“I attended the Great Council to help ensure cooler heads would prevail. I intended to defend our alliance; to explain how important it is to our survival. At first, everything seemed to be going in a positive direction before Chief Dendros gave his input,” King Tarran explained while shaking his downed head.

There was a moment’s pause, as everyone grasped the significance of his statement. Chief Dendros had been speaking out against Centaur involvement in affairs he claimed no longer benefited the Menduwaka. Despite heated debates with Maska, Chief Dendros was gaining a following.

“Chief Dendros gave a moving speech, stating in the past the alliance had benefitted both Mankind and Centaur greatly. He also said times had changed, and the man was no longer trustworthy. Dendros reminded everyone about our slaughtered Centaur Patrol and of the arrows which killed them,” King Tarran continued.

For a moment, King Tarran stood rubbing the side of his head. “Right afterward, was when Chief Dendros gave the telling blow, he said though they were informed the arrows were not from Etmindor, yet how could they be sure? Dendros stated as a Chieftain of the Cenekawk Tribe; he would no longer support those who might turn and s*******r men, women, and children.”

“Chief Dendros has finally moved to assume a greater role in the matters of my people? Now, he seeks to destroy the alliance? His behavior is madness; I will not stand for it,” Changa’s voice echoed in the Great hall, even as his body shook with anger.

“After his grand speech, the great council turned into screaming and shouting match. Some of the Chieftains and Elders gathered around me to make sure I was safe. Others gathered and started to accuse and threaten me.” His father paused and took a long drink from the cup he held.

“Finally, Maska asked for me to leave, as he said, for now, he could not guarantee my safety. As I rode away, they were still shouting and arguing. For right now, the alliance appears to be limited at best.” King Tarran said in a lowered voice while seating himself.

“My father will work to convince our people to remain allied with you, as always. Do not despair; our peoples have come far together. The alliance will once more stand strong, I swear it on my life!” Changa stormed from the Royal Dining Room.

Donovan watched the doors close behind Changa. He vowed to find somehow a way to restore the balance in a world which had gone mad.