Rebirth: Lady of the River

Chapter Three: Valeria

“I’m not much of a fight if you’re here to end me,” I told the raven, somewhat hoping that it would peck my brains out and I’d be done with the pain.

“CAW.”

“You certain? I could really do with some luck and dying by raven is preferable to that bastard.” At least that way Ceolred wouldn’t get the satisfaction of doing it himself and he’d piss off his king or whatever. 

The raven hopped toward me, disturbing the pine needles. That’s when I noticed it. It was wearing something against its breast, like a small blue necklace made specifically for a bird. 

“Do you belong to someone?” I asked the raven.

“DIE.”

I had read once before that ravens could repeat simple words. I gave the bird a wry smile.

“HELP.”

The raven c****d its head and then nodded. “HELP. HELP. HELP. HELP!” the creature began shrieking as loud as it could. No doubt, if Ceolred was anywhere nearby he’d storm back into the camp, squash the bird, and then reprimand me for somehow using magic to ask for help.

I waited, wondering what would happen first. I’d go crazy from the bird squawking or Ceolred would finally finish the job. With my head pressed to the ground, I could feel the thumping of approaching footsteps. They were not loud enough to be from a horse, but a person. Elstan, perhaps? We hadn’t crossed anyone during our journey from the fishing village on the Rill.

“Iain, you’re going to attract the entire forest!” someone hissed, sputtering around the corner to reprimand the bird. 

The raven, Iain, stopped screaming and glanced over at the approaching man. “Help?”

“Hells! Are you alright?” the man noticed me beside his raven. Coming down beside me was a man in earth colored leathers. His regalia was completely different from the elegance and craftsmanship that had been put into the soldiers that had been escorting me. “What am I asking? You look terrible… Iain, go find Faolan.”

The raven snuffed the man and then expanded his wings, sending pine needles flying as he took off. In front of me, the man removed a cloth from his pocket and uncorked a flask. “This is going to sting,” he warned me, pouring liquor over the cloth and dabbing my injured face. “Why are you here? Who did this to you?”

“Soldiers,” I croaked, voice raspy and soft. I managed to push my hands out to reveal the golden manacles. I could only hope this man was amongst the Thagallians that Elstan had been worried about.

“You’re a mage…” he realized, but rather than condemn me for it, I saw that he was empathetic. “Can you walk?”

I glanced down, uncertain if it’d be possible with my swollen feet. “Maybe.”

The man reached into his cloak and drew a blade. Maybe I wasn’t worth it and he was just going to save me the misery of suffering any longer. Using the knife, he began sawing through the ropes I had been tethered to, the hemp were damp with blood where it had chafed my arms, just above the manacles. The cool air stung them, bringing me out of my glazed over stupor for just a moment. 

"My name is Conall," he told me, throwing away the rope. "Come on, we're going to get you out of here," he promised. I finally got to get a good look at the man, who aside from his modest armor, had a friendly and welcoming face. There were no lines of cruelty twisting on his face, nor the sharpness in his eyes that would have drawn my suspicion about his personality. Instead, he was earnest and concerned. Aside from Delwyn, he was the first kind person I had met since arriving in this strange world. "Come on-" he grasped my raw hands and tried to pull me up to my feet. 

My swollen feet were oafish and numb. I stumbled, sagging down in Conall's grip as he tried to help me up. My ribs and abdomen also seared in pain, my muscles exhausted from the last of sustenance and the distance I had managed to travel. 

"You're not going anywhere," Conall realized, glancing around the small clearing we were in, before sighing. "The others shouldn't be too far..." He scooped up my frail body, leaving behind the rope and began trotting between trees. The quick movement made my head spin, the boughs of the trees above me spinning. 

"Friseal!" another masculine voice called. 

"A mage. She was tethered to a tree in the Sebian camp. Artur had warned us-" Conall reported, the words tumbling from his mouth.

"She doesn't look good. If what Emrys spoke was true, this is the mage."

"The... Lady of the Rill?" Conall breathed, perhaps suggesting that these people knew of the prophecy Maggie had shared with me. "How could they do this?"

"They is only one. Come, we've captured him."

I was brought further into the forest, deeper than we had ever strayed from the road when I was with Elstan and Ceolred. My vision was still swimming, making it difficult to see where we were going, but I noticed there were many faces. All of these men were dressed in leather armor that matched the hues of the forest around us. I was beginning to doubt less and less that these were anyone other than the Thagallians. I should have been rejoicing, but it was difficult when my entire body pained me. 

"Ser Munna, fetch bandages and a spare bed roll," the other man, who was not Conall, ordered, gesturing to another soldier nearby. "My lady, what is your name? Can you speak?"

"Valeria..." I managed.

"Here," he uncorked something and pressed it to my lips, the sweet warmth of water touching my dried and cracked mouth. He poured it down my throat, hydrating my throat and chasing away bits of the pain I felt. 

Conall sat me down on the ground, but rather than the hard ground, I could feel plush fur enveloping me. 

"Let's get these off of you," the man had a key, taking my wrists, unlocking the manacles. They fell off with a clink and the rush I felt from their release overwhelmed me. 

I turned away, dry heaving, unable to throw up much more than what little bile I had in my stomach. Before they had been put on, I hadn't noticed anything strange about how I felt, but maybe it was because everything felt... right. Now, my nerves and sensations were coming into bright focus. I could see the forest anew, I knew that the pelt I sat on came from a wolf that had been rogue, abandoned by its pack, and I knew that the tree I leaned against was more than 200 years old. 

"I hate these things," Conall hissed, watching as I continued to try and puke my brains out. "They do more harm to mages than good. And the Sebians wonder why they have problems with magic uprisings."

"It's a means to controlling what they want," the leader frowned. "Then again, what would we know?"

Conall snorted.

"Go and fetch her some food. She's clearly very weak."

Conall got up and into the camp. Another man approached, who I assumed was Ser Munna, offering bandages and a flask. "Thank you, ser."

"Is there anything else you require, Faolan?"

"Not currently," Faolan informed him, turning back to me. "Do you mind if I help you? Your feet are injured bad-" but as he glanced down, he paused, his blue eyes fixating on my feet. 

I managed to look down to glance at the feet that had been swollen, torn, and bloodied. But when I stared at were perfectly normal feet. The injuries I once had, all but vanished aside from the dirt. My body still ached, but even these feelings were fleeting, ebbing away as time continued to flow. Maggie had said that I would have magic, but she had never specified what kind. 

There was something strange about the Thagallians, but I couldn't place my finger on it. Delwyn had seemed normal, nothing about him had set off any alarm bells in my head. Nor had meeting the two Sebian soldiers before they had slapped the magic manacles on my wrists. But the Thagallians all felt... weird. They appeared human, as far as I could tell, but there was a strange sensation as if their skins hid another creature entirely. 

Conall returned shortly with a wooden bowl. Piping from the top was a steady line of steam and I could smell the rabbit amongst the onions and potatoes. Weird. I'd never been able to discern foods, especially in a soup, by scent. Graciously accepting the food, I scarfed it down, unable to fill my empty stomach quickly enough. I was being given my second bowl of food when a commotion across the camp drew my attention. 

"Unhand me, you monsters!" I recognized the voice immediately; Ceolred.

He had been stripped of his magnificent armor and weapons, being ushered forward by the Thagallian soldiers. Their faces twisted in amusement as Ceolred paced between them, afraid to be touched by them, afraid of his situation. Then he saw me, sitting on the ground in soft furs, beside Conall and Faolan. 

"You. You summoned them, didn't you, witch!?" he accused, howling indignantly at me for something I hadn't done.

Faolan stood, striding toward Ceolred. "Know your place. Your journey was blighted from the beginning."

"Blighted?" Ceolred snorted. "Just like Thagallia I assume. God, you truly believe that one little witch will save your flea-ridden country? It was He above, who cursed you and your land."

"If you believe a 'witch' cannot solve our issues, then why did you capture here, if not fear for the prophecy?" another figure approached.

Ceolred's expression brightened when he saw Elstan, but fell shortly after. "You? It was you all along?" he barked, astounded as the middle aged man paced in front of him.

"Me?" Elstan's lips twisted up uncharacteristically. "Oh.... Right, I'm still wearing this skin, aren't I?" The air around Elstan rippled, the visage of the Sebian soldier evaporating, replaced with a man in black robes gilded with silver. 

"You were destined to fail from the beginning," Faolan repeated. "We have been watching the Rill for some time now. Enchanter Emrys is amongst a few who have infiltrated the Sebian ranks in order to search for the Lady of the Rill."

Emrys gave a dramatic bow, to which some of the Thagallians humored him and applauded. "And, I do believe I told you not to lay a hand of her. You cannot even follow direct orders. Sebia will not miss such a poor soldier."

"You'll always be monsters," Ceolred sputtered, his face becoming increasingly red as he heard that he had been bamboozled. "No matter of magic will change that. And as God wills it, monsters and witches will be hunted in His name. The Holy Crusades will succeed-"

"Goddess, I've heard enough of this blasphemy," Emrys yawned. "Ser, what would you prefer we do with him? Clearly, word cannot spread about the discovery of the Lady."

"Yes," Faolan drawled darkly. "Gronow, Lloyd."

Two soldiers reported at once. "Ser?"

"Take this man, we'll give him the chance to run for his life. But you know what this entails - Trial by the Moon. The two of you are tasked with his execution this evening," Faolan instructed, pausing to glance back at me. "My lady, is there anything you'd like to say before he is taken? He will not survive the night."

Ceolred shuddered, eyes so wide that the whites were showing. He knew what that meant, whatever the Trial by the Moon was. 

"Say?" I repeated, my tongue numb from scalding it on the soup I had been eating. Even if Ceolred thought the Thagallians were terrible creatures, I had seen much worse of him. "The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls."