Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dain

In Morgan’s room, the stranger forced open her mouth and poured something sweet and sticky down her throat. Two men held her down, making sure she couldn’t move. Before the princess could spit it out, water quickly followed, forcing her to swallow or choke. Thus, began the princess’s private hell, an existence filled with endless incoherent nightmares and darkness. The stranger’s face hovered over her, forcing a scream from her lips. A hand quickly clamped down over her mouth, forcing Morgan wide awake. Instinctively, she punched the face looming over her. Quickly grabbing double handfuls of hair, the marks-woman prepared to bite an ear off. She fought the stranger with tooth and nail, determined to go down fighting.

“Morgan—this is Donovan, let go of my hair, please. You are among friends now. I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth, do not scream unless you want your father’s guards to take us back to Etria,” Donovan whispered.

The princess stopped. The light from a small battered brass lantern revealed a simple cluttered one-room shack. Fishing nets hung upon simple peg racks along one wall. Morgan gasped in amazement; she was no longer locked in her room alone. Somehow, help had arrived and rescued her. She was lying on a simple bed in the darkness, with two figures looming above her. One of them stepped forward. Princess Morgan recognized the profile standing above her; it was Girard Addenay. Some time ago, he had disappeared. Now he was standing before her once more.

Relief filled Morgan with a storm of emotions. She was still fighting off the last lingering effects of the liquid the stranger had forced her to swallow. The fading effects of the drugged elixir combined with the joy of being free made the princess giddy and light-headed. She managed, with some effort, to sit on the edge of the bed and gave herself a few moments to get her bearings.

“Are you alright, Princess Morgan?” Girard asked with a concerned expression.

“I believe so. Yes, I am much better now.” Morgan responded and smiled back at him.

“Sorry, Prince Donovan had to quiet you down. We have spent the night getting you out of Etria, by boat. You are in a fisherman’s shack about twelve miles downriver from Etria.”

“Right now, men are spread across the land looking for you.” Donovan was holding a hand to his right eye in the dim light.

“Are you alright?” Morgan asked him softly.

“I will be fine, Princess—Morgan. There are some clothes and things of yours in the pack at your feet.” Donovan turned his back towards her without further comment.

Looking up at her benefactors, the princess saw both had their backs turned towards her. Morgan donned her clothes as best she could with fumbling fingers. She smiled when her hands felt for and found her swords, knife, bow, and quiver. Slowly, Morgan shakily stood and rolled up her blanket and nightclothes.

“What’s the plan?” Morgan asked while steadying herself. “She felt stronger now. Yes—the wooziness seemed to be gradually lessening.”

“All of us need to get moving, there is perhaps a couple of hours before the sun rises,” Changa said while peeking into the doorway of the hut.

Girard turned to a thin older man standing outside the doorway, who smiled kindly at Morgan. She couldn’t help thinking; he looked as if the slightest breeze would carry him away. He wore a ragged red tunic that consisted primarily of many patches and a pair of worn blue leggings. He stood before her, in bare feet. His hair hung from his head in fine white wisps, and his grayish-blue eyes twinkled as he nodded to her.

“We thank you for your aid and hospitality, Dain. Here are ten gold for your kindness. Princess Morgan will not forget what you’ve done,” Girard placed the gold in his thin left hand and gently shook the right.

“Thank you. Girard, I’ve lived here all my life, and now evil stalks these lands. The scaled killer hunts at night, and the shadows come alive and take those they wish. Tis time, I took my leave and left these parts before old Dain disappears too,” the old fisherman said in a wheezy voice.

Without further delay, the older man grabbed a worn leather backpack, within which he stowed a few odds and ends. Next, Dain gathered up the fishing nets and stepped outside. All of them followed the old fisherman out, and he turned to face them and stopped.

“I’ve been planning on leaving this place for some time. Tonight is as good as any to get out of here. Princess Morgan, two nights ago, I watched a large black scaled monster dive down from the sky, and it killed two riders and their horses,” Dain said to them quietly. “It was bigger than a raken, I tell you,” Dain stared into the darkness with jaw quivering as if afraid someone else was listening.

“Tell us more about this creature,” Morgan urged. She looked at Girard, Donovan, and Changa and was puzzled to find they didn’t appear in the least bit surprised.

“It was upon the riders before they knew anything was happening. The horses screamed in terror, but it quickly silenced them. One man drew his sword, but both men never had a chance.” Dain was shaking as he stared wildly off into the distance.

“It must be the dragon I saw in Mern,” Donovan commented with a nod.

Dain froze and slowly turned to face him with wide-open eyes. “You saw it, too? No one I told, will believe me.” The old fisherman stood there, shaking like a leaf.

Donovan reached over with a comforting hand and placed it on Dain’s shoulder. “I’ve been getting the same treatment.”

“I was hiding behind the boughs of a dead tree, but it knew I was there, watching it. Its large green eyes would return to gaze in my direction as it fed. Each time they did, I felt like nothing would ever be safe again,” Dain said, shaking.

The fisherman glanced down at the nets he held and turned back towards the boat. Despite his apparent age, he stepped nimbly into the dugout logboat and stowed the nets away. Moments later, he stepped back onto the weathered dock. Dain vanished back inside the shack and reappeared, carrying his backpack, oil lantern, and a waterskin. Quickly, the old fisherman stowed the knapsack and water skin in the bottom of the boat and reached for the still burning oil lantern.

“Where are you heading to, Dain?” Morgan asked. From the look on his face and his actions, it was clear he was glad to leave this place.

“Always wanted to go downriver to visit Kandalare. I’ve heard there’s good fishing in those waters. I figure it would be as good a place as any, to send down new roots,” Dain answered with a smile.

“Dain, you’ll be more than welcome, my friend. My father is paying fishermen for fish to be salted and pickled if you’re interested.” Donovan looked at Dain with a smile.

The hermit looked at the prince for a few moments and nodded his head. “Prince Donovan, you folks need to leave this place as quick as you can. Leave before the evil which hunts you, has a chance to get Princess Morgan back. Good luck to all of you.” The old fisherman blew out the wick in the oil lantern, plunging them into darkness.

After stowing away the oil lantern, the old fisherman untied the dugout log boat. He grabbed a paddle and pushed off from the dock. Only a few minutes later, Dain was drifting away on the river’s current, silently waving goodbye to them. Morgan signaled back; she was profoundly thankful for the help the older man had given and silently wished him well. In no time at all, the boat rapidly vanished in the darkness.

Morgan turned to Donovan and stared at him for a few moments. “You—actually saw a dragon land in Mern?”

Donovan nodded. “Yes, we’ll talk about it later when we have more time. Come on; we need to go.”

“Believe him, Morgan. He saw it, and we all heard the ungodly beast roar,” Changa said in a lowered voice.

“We have company,” Emec whispered a short distance away, as he pulled out his bow from its case.

“What is it? What’s out there?” Donovan asked.

“There are riders on horseback, and they do not appear to be palace guards. The ones you two encountered on the river were not alone,” Emec replied in a lowered voice.

Immediately, Changa moved to stand beside Emec while pulling out his bow. As quickly as Morgan could, she managed to make her way to where the horses were tied, along with the others.

“A couple of them are Kang scouts, sniffing our back-trail. It will not be long before they find us here,” Emec commented as he drew an arrow from his quiver.

After shakily mounting her horse, Morgan followed behind Donovan. Someone had smuggled her horse out of Etria, which spoke of the effort and planning which had gone into devising her escape. The group managed to pick their way carefully through the forest, putting precious distance between themselves and the enemy.

Abruptly, a cry rang out ahead and to the right of them. From atop a small hill, charged a group of shadowy riders into the moonlight. Morgan knew they were too close to outrun. She pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow.

Morgan shakily drew her bowstring back, while attempting to fight the light dizziness she felt. The foremost of the pursuers was a Kang, who was swiftly closing with them. Pausing for a moment to clear her head, Morgan silently cursed the stranger who had drugged her. She released the bowstring.

The Kang and his horse had drawn far too close to them. Morgan noted he was smiling in anticipation. The arrow buried itself in the beast’s chest a moment later, and the smile became a pain-filled grimace. In slow motion, the Kang slid sideways from his horse before pitching headlong to the ground.

“Nice shot,” Changa yelled behind her.

With a shout, Donovan turned upon the nearest pursuer, a lanky looking Nyen wielding a hand ax. Despite the fact he was fighting with only his left eye, he managed to give a good account of himself. Quickly deflecting his opponent’s initial blow, the prince’s sword gleamed in the moonlight. In a silver flash, his blade arced downward, slicing deeply into the savage’s neck. With a hoarse cry, the Nyen fell backward to the ground, convulsed, and lay still.

Having withdrawn another arrow, Morgan searched for another target. Girard had already finished off one attacker, as the still form lying on the ground testified. In a blur, he quickly dispatched a second, slashing his throat. The Kang dropped his weapon and clutched at his wound while falling from his mount.

Quickly glancing at Changa and Emec, Morgan was relieved to find they were alright. Both were standing with bows in hand. Before them, two Kang lay motionless on the ground.

“Let’s go, before any of their friends find us,” Donovan said. He immediately took off, galloping towards a ridge.

Swiftly they raced up the crest, which ran parallel to the road below them. Emec led their victorious rescue party onward, putting distance between them and the dead Nyen and Kang. After a while, they slowed down to a trot. From time to time, the fleet Centaur paused, and everyone listened for any sounds of pursuit. Finally convinced they were alone, Emec set a ground-eating pace on the road back to Kandalare. It was right before daybreak. As far as Morgan was concerned, for right now, she could not get far enough away from Etria and the stranger.

Changa had been absent for nearly three weeks. He had chosen to convince the Menduwaka to reconsider joining the alliance. For almost a month now, all had remained quiet, no further reports of mysterious riders had been received. It was apparent the new watchtower garrisons were hampering enemy movements considerably.