Light of Elliana: Book One—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Two: Hunting Spies

Later that day. Changa and the Centaur patrol behind him, stood quietly within the edge of the forest, watching the meadow below. The sun had set, and faint silvery light from the partially clouded moon illuminated all below. The moist night air was cooling the air to a mild temperature. It was also forming little water droplets, upon each leaf, blade of grass, and branch of the woods around them and making their clothing damp. Other than a few deer grazing in the center of the meadow, nothing more significant than a lightning bug moved.

Tonight’s mission was to hunt for suspected scouts who were using the ridges and valleys around them. Etmindor’s borders were now under surveillance by tall watch-tower garrisons constructed on strategic hills and mountainsides. Heavy mounted cavalry, armored men-at-arms, and archers defended each fort. It was making the task of traveling through Etmindor unseen a great deal more difficult for the enemy.

The enemy had developed a sophisticated scout network to gather vital information about Etmindor troop movements. Till now, the element of surprise had been solely working in their foe’s favor. The enemy’s spy network was about to suffer some losses, as tonight’s efforts were designed to put pressure on their opponent’s spies. Changa knew their adversary’s riders appeared to be searching for something. The alliance needed to learn what they were attempting to find.

Two mounted shadows departed from a wooded gorge, traveling to the North. The horsemen were riding toward a new watch-tower garrison under construction at the foot of Mount Raven across the valley. Soon afterward, a second pair of riders rode-up to join the first two. For a few minutes, all four paused before beginning to move once more.

“Any moment now,” Changa thought with a grim smile. Loud cries signaled the arrival of a large group of pursuers who charged out of a small ravine to the West of the four. As expected, the four enemy scouts panicked and bolted towards Changa and his Centaur Patrol, who stood waiting patiently. With a shout, the Centaur Captain galloped out of the cover of the trees, followed closely by the rest of his patrol. The high weeds the Centaurs ran through, exploded into small clouds of moisture as their legs impacted them. The thunder of their hooves increased, as the patrol sought to keep the unknown horsemen from escaping. The Centaur leader turned to keep the enemy within the closing net of their pursuers. Three of the four riders panicked, fleeing Eastward towards a narrow valley.

The fourth whirled towards Changa’s patrol, who were closing in on the riders fast. At the last moment, one of the strangers threw back her hood, revealing a black leathery face, long black hair, and softly glowing green eyes.

“—Their skin and hearts are dark as ebony, and their eyes glow green. An Adumorda Priest!” Changa recalled in horror.

The dark priest struck hard and fast before the Centaur Captain could attempt to shout a warning. She raised the palm of her hand outward and pointed it towards them while mouthing whispered words. From her black hand erupted a reddish-purple orb, which raced towards Changa and his Centaur patrol.

Changa was the first to turn, to head off the enemy riders. The expanding sphere struck his Centaur patrol behind him. The next thing he knew, the world behind him exploded, and he was sent sailing through the air. Screams filled the air, even as he fell heavily into dew-covered weeds. Quickly, the dark priest turned her attention to the first group of pursuers. She sent a great fireball arcing toward the fast-moving men, who scattered to avoid the fiery missile. It struck the meadow in front of the first of the riders. In the next instant, Changa sawhorses and men hurled through the air like rag-dolls to land heavily among the weeds.

The Centaur Captain raised his head, fully expecting the evil hag to approach and finish him off. Instead, she looked at him with a wicked smile and uttered strange words. In the next instant, she disappeared into a thin dark swirl of smoke. Immediately, her horse abruptly vanished the moment its rider disappeared. Still suffering the after-effects of the attack, Changa managed to rise to his feet, shaking his head.

The Centaur Captain walked back to inspect his men. Everyone but four now stood. Evan lay on the ground, with his young eyes-wide-open starring at the sky, while his body was on fire. The Centaur’s neck now was bent at an angle nature never intended. He had suffered a direct hit from the dark priest’s deadly attack and died. Beyond Evan’s body was Stile, who was lying on his side, favoring his left foreleg.

“Changa—my front leg is broke,” Stile said while wincing in pain. The Centaur was rummaging in a tooled leather saddlebag and pulled out a piece of Heaven’s Kiss. His Centaur friend measured off a finger-joint length of the root, cut it off with a knife, stuffed it in his mouth, and started to chew.

The Centaur Captain looked upon the burning forms of three of his friends, Coda, Kando, and Marren, who the Adumorda had incinerated. Others of the patrol were now smothering the flames with water-soaked blankets, even as the odor of burnt hair and charred flesh filled the air.

Inside, Changa raged at the loss of his friends, while a sense of numbness smothered the pain he felt. Now wasn’t the time, the courage of the rest of his patrol depended on him remaining calm and focused. Though he wanted to take the time to mourn their deaths, he knew he was needed elsewhere.

“Stile—we’ll get you out of here,” Changa said as he shook tears of rage from his eyes.

Emec and Maneau were working on setting Stile’s leg, so they could splint it, while the others started building five drags. Stile was in no shape to travel on his own, and Evan, Coda, Kando, and Marren were dead. “If we had been tighter grouped when she attacked, more of us would’ve died,” Changa said grimly.

Changa nodded to the others who were closing in. Riders from the larger group rode toward them to offer what help they could. The tall, broad form of Sir Alfred led them. “Who would’ve thought a Dark Binder would be riding with scouts? Tis something I’ve never seen or heard of until now. These enemy curs have grown bold as brass Changa!” Sir Alfred growled.

“It’s way past time for us to turn the tables on the stinking lot of them! We lost James, when we took our tumble, he landed on a large rock and broke some ribs. Edward hurt his left knee, and Barry broke his right arm.”

“Yes, the enemy has, and I agree. Only, it wasn’t a Dark Binder; it was an Adumorda Priest, which is a lot worse. Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to react to us.” Changa

“An Adumorda Priest? I was kind of hoping you were mistaken about what happened the other night. She did this much damage in minutes; I don’t want to imagine what she could do if she weren’t in a hurry!” Sir Alfred scratched his chin and silently stared at the Centaur Captain.

“Well, some managed to survive, whether we like it or not,” Changa commented as he took a drink from his waterskin and strapped it in place. Right now, he was curious to find out who Donovan and the others had caught. The Centaur Captain galloped toward the ravine the three scouts had used to escape. The gorge ran for a considerable distance to the West, towards Caralon. On any other night, the spies would have been home free.

Changa grinned, knowing this was not their lucky night. He led his patrol into the valley, in the direction of the noise erupting ahead. Captured within a large net were three individuals. Two lay silent upon the ground, and a third was on his knees facing them. Donovan stood before him with his sword in hand. The light from six torches revealed the features of their captives.

“Brother, what foul catch lies in the nets tonight?” Changa asked while studying their entangled foes.

“Three men, two who refused to be taken alive and a man who trades his goods across from the Armory.” Donovan turned to face Changa with a frown. “Where is the rest of your patrol?”

“An Adumorda Priest tried to destroy as many of us as she could, before deciding to leave,” Changa explained.

“How many did we lose?”

“From my patrol—Evans, Yeta, Kando, and Marren are dead, and Stiles broke his left foreleg. From Sir Alfred’s patrol, James is dead with his ribs stove in from a rock he hit. Edward strained his left knee, and Barry has a broken right arm. It’s a good thing we rushed her, or I’m sure many more would’ve died.” Changa quietly informed him.

Donovan listened and nodded his head. “Of all the rotten, luck!”

Changa stepped closer to their prisoner while holding his fighting spear. “What kind of man would willingly betray his king, people, and country?” Changa demanded while brandishing the spear. The man remained defiantly quiet at first as he stared back at the Centaur Captain. Suddenly he sat back, sobbing into his hands. Without prompting, the merchant started to speak while wiping at the tears on his face.

“Prince Donovan, my name is Tenow. I am but a simple merchant who is trying to make a living for my family and me. Two weeks ago, I was approached by four strangers who acted as if they wanted to buy more than is in my little shop.”

The merchant paused as if fighting to regain his composure. With shaking hands, he wiped at the tears on his face.” I led them to my small home, to show them the rest of my wares. The one laying there pulled a knife and grabbed my wife, Preena. He said they would be staying with us for a while. They say, because my home is close to the Armory, it will do just fine.”

Donovan listened intently, not saying a word.

“For two weeks, they have been with us, telling everyone they are family from far away. One always stays with my wife at home when the rest of us leave. I can’t run for help, for they will kill my wife and daughter,” Tenow sobbed. “Now, you will execute me. I care not for myself; please save my family!”

Donovan nodded while sheathing his sword.

“I believe he’s telling the truth,” Changa whispered into Donovan’s ear.

“Yes—I believe you’re right. We’ve long suspected there are spies still operating within Kandalare. Perhaps, this is the time to rid ourselves of a few more leaks.”

“Tenow, did any of these animals ever speak of something they were searching for?” Donovan asked. They needed answers desperately; he might as well question Tenow first.

“Six or seven days ago, Kneller became angry at having to stay inside the city. He said he was tired of looking for the girl.”

“What, girl? Why did they want this girl? Who is she? There were a thousand questions they needed answers to,” the prince thought.

“What, girl?” Donovan asked while staring at Tenow.

“I have no idea. It was the only time either spy mentioned the girl. What does it mean, there are many girls in Kandalare?” Tenow said. He raised his arms into the air.

“Sir Alfred, we must return to Kandalare immediately, in hopes of capturing the rest of this group. Emec, take the patrol, and escort the others back to their homes. Changa, come with us.”

The return to Kandalare took the better part of four days, two of which they spent traveling through a windstorm. Upon arriving, Tenow, Donovan, and Changa entered the city, biding their time while Sir Alfred and three others got into position before they made their move.

Tenow had been right; a muscular clean-shaven individual sat on a wooden box outside the door of the merchant’s small home. The man stood and stepped inside the doorway, halting their advance. Moments later, Changa heard a woman scream, followed by the sound of wood breaking. Charging forward, Changa and Donovan entered the small home. Tenow’s wife sat in a corner with her brown hair in disarray, holding a child on her lap.

Advancing to the back of the small home, Changa and Donovan peered out the now open window. The four soldiers sent to the back alley in advance were gathered around the still form of a man, lying on the ground. Four crossbow bolts in his chest guaranteed his spying days were over. Sir Alfred nodded to them while nudging the still form with the toe of his boot.

“Slowly, we’re taking back what is ours,” Donovan said, smiling.

Tenow’s wife had managed to fight off her attacker, suffering only a s***h to her arm from his knife. The child, though shaken, was unharmed. Tenow returned to his family amidst a flood of tears. For the first time, Changa finally felt something was going their way.