The Rowan and Amethyst Chronicles

“Izara, look at me.”

She gazed up into her Shei’s deep black green eyes. The deepest color of green she knew.

“You must keep compassion, rather than anger in your heart. No matter what happens.”

Zar awoke with a jolt, lancing upright and flinging her eyes open. She immediately regretted this, as bright sun accosted her pupils and caused her to wince. The snippet of the old memory too caused her a brief spasm of pain. She hadn’t seen her Shei so clearly for a long time. His stern and loving eyes like deep wells of black water. She took several deep steadying breaths and then closed her eyes again and bent her head, breathing in and out very intentionally. Count to five on the inhale, count to five on the exhale. Slowly she allowed her heartrate to return to normal and opened her eyes again, more cautiously this time.

She stood and stretched, scratching at the back of her head in an effort to relieve any lingering thoughts the dream had left her with. Such an old memory coming to her. It made her feel like she was twelve again, the day he had told her that after she had gotten into a bloody fight with another child. Why it had come to her this morning, she couldn’t say.

She made a small nearly smokeless fire in the early morning light and roasted the rabbit slowly over a spit until it was golden brown and the meat easily pulled off the bone. She ate about half of it and stowed the rest for her supper. She would have loved to smoke it to gain more flavor but that would have been foolish in daylight. She was just wondering what her next move ought to be. She needed to find an appraiser, or a trader to evaluate the ring she had stollen. If it was very valuable, she might just be able to head back to the Robber’s Roost right away and hand over what she owed. But she didn’t want it appraised by just any random tinkerer. They might devalue the piece. She needed a certified appraiser, and for that she would need to go to a real town, where such a person could be found.

She removed the ring from her pocket for the first time that morning and gazed at it. It was surely a beautiful and valuable object with the deep purple stone set in the center and the ample gold spiraling metalwork all around. She had never held anything that looked this beautiful in her life. It sure looked valuable.

She replaced it in her pocket and was just wondering if she ought to cross over the road to the east to find a township or stay in this area and continue to amass some more items to sell when she noticed a great plume of black smoke billowing up from the south, where she knew the nobles had been camped.

“Oh shit,” she muttered under her breath.

Black smoke wasn’t from a campfire. It was from something much bigger. The camp must have been attacked by raiders. Such a large and wealthy target would be difficult to pass up for any organized plunderers if they happened to be in the area. Zar had gotten in and out in the nick of time.

She decided to cross the road to the eastern section of forest and make her way to the next decent size town. It was flatter and the going would be easier. She didn’t feel the need to continue robbing travelers at the moment, especially with raiders in the area. She set out at a good pace, watching the smoke all the while. She left it well behind her and started to feel more at ease after about half an hour. She hadn’t heard or seen any other sign of raiders so far.

She passed down the side of a steep ravine and started coming up the other side when suddenly she heard a noise that made her freeze in her tracks. There was a loud rustling and whining sound coming from up above on the other rim of the ravine. It sounded distinctly loud and aggravated but she couldn’t tell if it was human or not. Then a pained nicker broke through the silence. That was a horse! A runaway horse could do her a lot of good, if it wasn’t terribly injured. Hell, she wouldn’t have to rely on Takash to lend her a horse for the winter if she had her own!

Zar hurried up the bank but when she topped it, she momentarily shocked by the scene she beheld. A white horse was lying on its side, its breath heaving through it at a pace to suggest it had recently been galloping. And of all things, there was a woman in a dress sitting next to the horse’s head, gently rubbing the animal’s face and speaking softly to it. She was certainly human. Her hair was chestnut brown and wavy, her skin was fair and she looked to be in her late teens. Of all the folk to meet, this was surely the strangest chance.

“What the?” Zar said before she could stop herself.

The girl looked up, startled. She cried out and picked up a rock from the ground as if to defend herself with it.

“It’s ok, I won’t hurt you,” Zar said quickly and the feminine quality of her voice seemed to relieve the girl despite the hunting bow and knife she bore. She dropped the rock and held up her hands shakily in a sign of non-aggression.

“He-he stumbled when we were riding up the ridge and-” she gestured helplessly at the horse.

“Why were you riding out here?” Zar asked, confused.

“We were traveling and my caravan was attacked. I don’t know what happened to the rest. One of the soldiers was killed, so they gave me his horse and told me to ride away quickly. The horse just took off and I could barely hold on. I’ve only ridden ponies before. He ran for a while and then we were coming up this and he must have got his leg twisted in some roots. There was a crack and he fell and now…” her face was streaked with tears. “Will he be ok?”

Zar hesitated. No doubt she was from the noble caravan. In fact, as Zar looked closer, she saw that this was the very young lady that she had robbed last night. She moved her gaze to the horse. She saw that its left front leg was bent at a terrible angle. She moved forwards slowly to examine the leg. Then she looked up at the girl and shook her head.

“It’s too badly injured. Without an expert, there’s nothing I can do.”

“But can’t we splint it, or-or something?” the girl asked wildly. “My uncle splinted a horse’s leg once, she was back pulling carts again in no time.”

Zar sighed. “The leg is twisted and broken. He wouldn’t make it to his feet.”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes. “We can’t just leave him like this,” she whispered.

Zar stared at the horse for several long moments and then looked at the girl. Wordlessly she removed her short antler scimitar from its sheath across her back. The girl’s eyes widened.

“No!” she said, placing her body closer to the horse. “He saved me, you can’t kill him.”

“He’s in pain,” Zar said patiently. “He needs to be free from it. There’s nothing you can do. Please move aside.”

The girl hesitated for several long moments and then pulled away, tears flowing down her face. She kissed the horses head softly. “Thank you,” she mumbled to him.

Zar moved forwards. The horse began to tremble as though he knew what was happening. She placed her hand against the beast’s neck to find the strongest pulse. Then she turned to the girl. “Don’t watch.”

The girl turned away, her face in her hands as Zar whispered a blessing to the beast and then lifted her blade and plunged it deep into the horse’s neck. A spray of blood issued from the wound. The horse opened its mouth in a scream but only a strangled sound came out. Zar had cut through his wind pipe as well as his veins and arteries. There was a good deal of violent shaking and kicking that lasted for several minutes before the beast finally lay still.

“Sleep now,” Zar said, reaching forwards and closed his bulging eyes.

The girl, who was done sobbing now, turned back around and gazed at the grisly scene. She appeared not to be able to rip her gaze away. Zar watched her for a few moments, wondering what to do. She fingered the ring in her pocket for a few moments and then gazed back in the direction of the smoke, which she could still make out against the brilliantly blue sky.

“What do I do now?” the girl asked in a small voice.

“I’ll take you back to the caravan. Maybe some of them survived. They’ll protect you.”

The girl looked both terrified and ameliorated by this suggestion. After a few moments she nodded. Zar began to walk forwards without preamble. She wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. The more she lingered around here, the more perilous things became. Whoever had attacked the caravan could be extremely close by. She heard the girl crashing through the undergrowth behind her and cursed silently. The last thing she needed was this noble idiot to give her away to a bunch of brigands.

They walked for about twenty minutes without speaking, growing closer and closer to the smoke. Zar stopped the girl before they got there and instructed her to wait in a small patch of boulders while she went on ahead. If there were still raiders in the camp, she didn’t want a noisy shadow giving her position away. She approached the camp with caution, every sense alert for movement and sound. But all she heard was a crackling sound of embers burning when she returned. She observed the camp from an elevated hill before heading down to it. There were two wagons turned on their sides, the third had been burned and was smoldering. The two armored carts were both empty and cracked to pieces. Several bodies of soldiers and horses lay strewn about. One body was of a noble lady, perhaps in her late forties. Two bodies of young servants hung out of one of the wagons. There were also three bodies of raiders.

Zar did a quick survey of the scene and then poked around in the cart that was empty. It had been effectively ransacked, and nothing of great value remained, but she did find a few blocks of cheese, a hairbrush and a pair of britches along with a shirt. She collected all of these and stowed them in her pack. Then she examined the bodies. She started with the soldiers. Their weapons had been taken, as had pieces of their armor and all of their boots. The slain noble looked as though her body she had been slashed across the throat. The servants looked like they had been smashed to death in the wagons rather than cut down. The raiders were the last to be examined. They all bore the same tattoo, one of a snake in a circular form with a raven head in the middle.

“The Carrion Cult,” she muttered and an icy chill went down her spine. These were no average raiders. They were infamous, well organized, brutal and far reaching. Zar herself had some experience with them, and they were not a friendly lot towards fae folk. No more did they love noble folk. This attack had been a coldly calculated hit. And they had probably taken prisoners for ransom. Suddenly feeling very much like leaving the scene, she hurried back to where she had left the girl.

“What did you find?” the girl asked immediately.

Zar shook her head. “No one there. Everyone in your caravan was either killed or driven off.”

The girl stared at her in horror. “But, there were fifteen of us. How can this be?”

“They were attacked by a local gang, one of the bad ones. You’re lucky you aren’t a prisoner right now, or worse.”

The girl sat back on a rock and stared into space. “Was there the body of a woman, fifty years old or so?”

“A noble?”

“She’s my Aunt. She was travelling with me.”

“Didn’t see her. There was some other noble lady, a bit younger than that who was slain.”

“I didn’t know any of the rest of them that well. They were from my Aunt’s household.” The girl looked lost. “What am I going to do?” she asked once again.

Zar didn’t answer. She was wondering the same thing. She desperately wanted to leave this situation, but she couldn’t just abandon this helpless girl. She clearly had no idea how to survive on her own. “Where were you travelling to?”

“Melnore.”

“Fuck,” Zar grunted. Melnore was the capitol of the Amythyst Kingdom, about ten days march by the Gem Road, if she had her bearings correct.

There was a loud sniffing sound and Zar turned to see that the girl has succumbed to tears again. She found this irksome but not unexpected. Noble children were said to be weak of heart and mind. She took a sip of water while she waited for the sobs to subside. Then, realizing that she now had a companion at least for the time being, she offered the canteen over. The girl took a shaky sip and handed it back. Zar saw that one of her tears had fallen on the canteen. She wiped the salty drop away.

“I can take you as far as Seletre,” she decided at last.

The girl hiccupped and looked up at her. “It’s a town about eight days from Melnor. You can buy passage there and make your own way.”

The girl stared at her blankly. “I haven’t any money with me.”

Zar gaped at her. “You’re a fucking noble and you don’t have any money? Are you kidding me?”

“I had a bit, my father gave me some coin for the journey. But it was all in my wagon. I didn’t think to grab it when we were attacked.”

Zar groaned and then, struck with a sudden idea she glanced at the girl’s neck. She saw a jeweled necklace there. “That necklace, that might serve. You can probably trade it. There will be many traders in Seletre. Do you have any other jewelry?”

The girl was wearing an anklet of finely woven silver but that was it. The girl suddenly laughed hollowly. “Do you know, I lost my wedding ring last night, missed it in the dark at our campsite! It was worth a thousand silvers. I could have bought a whole caravan with it. Gods what horrible luck.”

“Hmm.” Zar coughed, very conscious of the gold band currently in her pocket. A thousand silvers! “Well, you can use the coin your jewelry fetches to send a message to your family at least, if not book your passage.”

The girl nodded slowly, taking a deep calming breath and then suddenly she bent double and let out a gasp of pain.

“What is it?” Zar asked.

“I don’t know. Ouch! Right here, on my side, it hurts. I didn’t feel it before.”

Zar moved towards the girl and paused. “I’m going to feel the spot, alright?”

The girl nodded and took a deep breath. Zar palpated the side of the girl’s ribcage just below her left breast. She gave a sharp cry of pain. Zar removed her hands.

“Your ribs are bruised, maybe one or two is cracked a bit. You fell off the horse?”

She nodded, her face screwed up in pain.

“I can make you a poultice for the pain and swelling if we come across the right plants. For now there isn’t anything I can do for it.”

She frowned at the girl as she sat on a rock, her hand over her bruised ribs. Well this was just fucking perfect. She had become the equivalent of a wetnurse to a random noble maiden that she had just robbed blind all in the span of about twelve hours. And she didn’t even have any money or other valuables to make her worthwhile. Well, perhaps she did owe the girl something, as she had robbed her of a ring worth much silver.

Zar grappled with the idea of just walking away from this ill fortune for several minutes but she knew she couldn’t do it. Even though she essentially detested nobles and their ignorant wealth, she couldn’t just leave this girl to die. But she also couldn’t let this girl weight her down.

“Alright, get up,” she commanded suddenly, removing her pack and taking out the spare clothes she had found in the cart. “Put these on.”

The girl stood unsteadily and blinked at her as she held out the garments. “These are boy’s clothes,” she exclaimed them as if Zar had offered her slime to clothe herself in.

“Yes, and they’re a right deal easier to travel in than that silk you’re wearing.”

“Aren’t we going to travel by wagon?” the girl asked.

Zar raised her eyebrow. “You’re kidding right? You see any fucking carriages around here? Hurry up.”

The girl grimaced and went behind a grove of trees to change. Zar kept a lookout around them. The forest was quiet, an ominous sign to her. Without the chirping of birds and chattering of squirrels she felt exposed. This extended amount of silence was only present after great trauma had come to pass.

The girl emerged from behind the trees, dressed in the trousers and shirt. The clothing was a bit large for her but Zar gave her a bit of rope to hitch up the trousers.

“This feels so weird,” she said, walking around experimentally.

“What, never worn pants before?” Zar asked.

“It’s forbidden, where I’m from. Ladies aren’t supposed to wear pants ever, not even to ride in.”

Zar raised her eyebrows again and glanced down at her own garb. She had rarely, if ever worn a dress. Her people, male or female did not use such garb often. They preferred practical clothing. Her leggings were doe skin and fell to her ankles, her blouse was soft green woven of nettle fibers under a leather jerkin. Her only change of clothes, her evening ware, were a pair of soft nettle pantaloons and a sleeveless cotton blouse.

“Let’s go,” she said without preamble.

They set off, paralleling the road but at least ten meters from it. Zar kept a wary eye about them. She was ill at ease knowing the Carrion Cult had recently been about. But they met no one, and she took this as a favorable sign.

Her new traveling companion came with many pitfalls, she realized quickly. She was slow and even slower when the footing became uneven. She was loud, and constantly crashed through undergrowth. And she seemed to have no sense of direction. She would start to wander a bit to the left or right and Zar would be forced to wait for her to correct her course.

The girl called a halt only an hour into their march. Zar wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving. She waited impatiently while the girl rested and drank most of the rest of their water, complaining about the physical exertion all the while. Zar simply prodded her onwards. By the time the sun was high overhead, the girl was lagging and moaning in protest. Zar stopped them on the top of a ridge that spanned a long ravine. She offered the girl rabbit and cheese and they ate in silence, staring out at the expanse below them.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked her as they ate.

Zar swallowed. “Zar,” she said shortly. “Yours?”

“Syra za Olana ve Melnore,” she replied.

Zar grunted, glancing at the girl. She didn’t know what all that meant, but it sounded like one fancy name. Syra was adjusting her britches, which were riding up a bit in the front.

“I’m…ah well my family is from Melnore,” Syra elaborated after a moment. “We live in the first level of the city. We’re pretty well known in the Amethyst Kingdom.”

Zar didn’t reply. She didn’t care where the hell the girl lived, or how well known she was. She didn’t want to get to know the girl Syra. She barely even wanted to know her name. She just wanted this part of her journey to be over. She had work to do, a debt to pay off, and did not need a dead weight to drag her down.

“Is Zar a family name?” Syra asked after a moment.

“No,” Zar said curtly. “Let’s get moving, we need to make some more progress.”

She had been hoping that they would come to Seletre by the next day, but she was starting to wonder if they wouldn’t actually get there until many days later. She had to figure out a way to get this girl moving faster. But far from this, Syra started to ask her questions as they walked, which infuriated her.

“Where are you from Zar? I’ve never seen anyone that looks like you before.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zar shot at her, bristling.

“Oh, um I didn’t mean to offend you, I’ve just never seen anyone with dark skin before. Actually, I’ve never left my home before now. We pretty much all look the same there. Does everyone look the same where you come from?”

She chattered on heedlessly, apparently unaware that her companion had fallen into stony silence. She began to walk even slower than before. Finally Zar had had enough.

“Shut up!” she said suddenly as the girl started to ask about her family. She turned and laid a hand on the hilt of her blade for emphasis. “Walk more talk less, alright? I’m not your bloody nurse. I don’t care where you’re from or who you are. Do as I say, or I’ll leave you behind.”

Syra stared at her, looking rather stricken. Zar turned around and continued to walk. She glanced behind her at one point to see the girl following mutely a few yards back. Feeling a bit better, she continued to lead, occasionally looking back to make sure Syra was still with her. They passed a stream after a time and Zar refilled their water. Syra bent down to drink the water in her cupped hands. She didn’t look at Zar but continued to spoon water into her mouth until it was dribbling all down her front. She avoided Zar’s eyes and merely stood where she was, as though awaiting instructions. Zar could feel her discontent but she hardly cared. She preferred this silence, thick though it was.

They started to move slightly downhill and Zar noted that they were making better time. But whenever they hit a hill or any upwards motion, they slowed significantly. By the time the sun was starting to dip Zar was searching for a decent camp site. She found one by a small clear creek where there was a flat expanse beneath a dozen or so massive pine trees. The ground was covered in their needles and cones.

“We’ll camp here tonight,” she informed Syra before dropping her pack next to the closest pine and delving inside it. She extracted some food and tossed it to Syra along with the canteen before she seized her bow and wandered into the woods. She did a quick survey of their location, ensuring that they were well off the Gem Road and also not near anyone else’s campsite. When she was reasonably sure they were safe, she set about hunting. There wasn’t much activity at the moment in this particular stretch of woods. She saw sparse signs of rabbits but birds at least seemed to be around. Her mouth watered at the thought of a grouse or pheasant for supper. She prowled through the undergrowth, arrow at the ready. As she made her way through a patch of ferns, she flushed something. She aimed and shot, hitting it cleanly. The bird fell to the ground and she rushed forwards to inspect it. It wasn’t quite a grouse, but a nice plump dove. It would suffice.

She returned to camp to find Syra perched on a log chewing on a bit of rabbit. She didn’t speak to the girl but began to pull the feathers off the dead bird.

“What is that?” Syra asked suddenly, staring at it.

“A dove,” Zar answered shortly.

“It looks a lot like a pigeon,” Syra commented, turning up her nose.

“It’s our food,” Zar clarified, finishing plucking the bird.

Syra gazed at in unenthusiastically but didn’t comment further. Zar lit a small cooking fire then gutted and began to roast the bird. She glanced over at Syra to see that the girl was massaging her side and grimacing. The bird finished cooking in about an hour. Zar put out the fire and left the juicy dove above the slightly smoking embers. Then she stood abruptly and headed back into the woods.

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. About ten minutes later she emerged with a handful of herbs. She took them over to a smooth stone by the creek side and began to pound them with a smaller rock until they were pulpy. Then she found a roll of bandages in her pack.

“Let me take a look at that,” she offered and Syra turned to stare at her.

Without waiting for an answer, Zar moved forwards and unceremoniously pulled up the other girl’s shirt.

“Hey,” Syra said, pushing her away with a surprising show of strength so that she actually toppled backwards. “What are you doing?”

“Your ribs,” Zar explained through gritted teeth, picking herself up off the ground. “I’ll bandage them.”

Syra looked somewhat uncertain at this prospect, as though she thought Zar might not know how to bandage a wound but finally she nodded. She lifted her shirt just enough for Zar to see the bruising. Working quickly but expertly, Zar placed the poultice on her bruise, eliciting several sharp inhales of pain. She then wrapped the bandage around several times and tied it off gently so that it was firmly in place but not too uncomfortable.

Syra dropped her shirt again and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said with such genuine gratitude that Zar couldn’t help but feel a warm glow rise to her cheeks.

“Sleep in that tonight, and I’ll change it in the morning,” she said, turning away.

It was getting dark by that time. The sun had slipped away without either of them noticing. Syra began to yawn long and wide and Zar had to admit, she felt a bit exhausted herself. She undid the clasp on her sleeping roll and lay it out in a soft bed of grass.

“You can sleep here,” she informed Syra.

“What about you?” Syra asked, looking around as though for another sleeping roll.

“The nights are warm this time of year, I’ll be fine in my cloak.”

With that, Zar left to sit on a boulder not far away to await the fullness of night. She heard Syra rustling around for a while before the girl folded herself into Zar’s bedroll. For a time the only sounds were of crickets and swooping night hawks. A coyote yipped as the last light fell and then the air became full of the fluttering of many wings. A hoard of bats was skimming about the creek, picking off insects. Zar enjoyed the sound of them until they passed on. Then she slipped silently off of the boulder, satisfied that they would be more or less untroubled this evening. She crept near to where Syra was laying. Her breathing was even and it appeared that she had fallen asleep quickly.

Zar sat down against the trunk of one of the magnificent pine trees a few meters away from Syra, drew her cloak tight about her and breathed deeply. She sang quietly for a time, words her people had sung for many generations. She knew their meaning by heart, the words that her Shei had taught her long ago. Most of their ever-diminishing clan no longer knew the meaning, yet that did not make the words any less important to remember and recite. She felt asleep to the soft sound of Syra’s breath and the hum of insects.