Leslie Moore - Griffin's Daughter

“ Run, Jelena!” Magnes shouted.

Jelena sprinted towards the sound of flowing water. She could hear Magnes pounding along right behind her, and further off, the sound of pursuit. Panic gave her feet wings as she dodged tree trunks and low branches. She could see the trees thinning out ahead amid a haze of sunlight.

She emerged from the shadows of the forest into the soft light of late afternoon, skidding and almost falling on the loose soil and pebbles of the riverbank. Magnes grabbed her arm to steady her and started running eastward, pulling her along. The bandits burst from the woods a few moments later and, shouting in murderous fury, charged after them.

Never had Jelena had to run for her life before. Now, panting with exertion, she feared she would falter soon if she had to run much farther. Magnes seemed to sense her distress, and she could see the gleam of desperation in his eyes. She risked a glance over her shoulder. The bandits were gaining on them. She and Magnes were going to have to turn and fight.

“ Magnes!” she cried, “I can’t…we’ll have to fight.” They slid to a stop, the swiftly flowing river to their right, the forest to their left. The bandits tumbled to a halt a few yards off, panting and blowing like spent horses. Nevertheless, they seemed determined to avenge their slain leader. Slowly, they began to advance. Jelena raised her knife. Bitterly, she wondered why it had to end this way, before she had even gotten started. She prayed for it to be over quickly.

The tingling started like pins and needles in her hands and forearms. Suddenly, blue tongues of flame erupted from her fingers, burning so brightly that Jelena could not look directly at them. So startled was she that she dropped her knife.

“ Gods!” Magnes exclaimed in astonishment. Slowly, Jelena raised her hands up and held them before her, a blazing shield of light. She could hear rough cries of amazement and fear, followed by confused chatter as the bandits debated whether the blue fire was real or some kind of trick. All the while, they continued to sidle forward.

Suddenly, the bandits froze in their tracks, staring out beyond their prey further along the riverbank. The ground began to vibrate. Magnes turned and barked a curse.

A group of horsemen were galloping straight toward them, weapons raised.

The company camped overnight at Saihama Village. The sheriff, an amiable woman named Taura, hosted Ashinji in her own home. She cooked him dinner and offered to give up the bed that she and her husband shared so that Ashinji might have a comfortable place to sleep. Ashinji graciously accepted the meal but declined the bed, explaining that he couldn’t sleep indoors while his company slept outside. “It’s a pleasant night, the grass is soft on your village green…I’ll be fine,” he said. “Believe me, I’ve had to make do with a lot less.”

Sheriff Taura laughed heartily. She was a robust, plain-featured woman, well into middle age, with six grown children. Her husband was the village blacksmith. From the look of her ears and eyes, Ashinji suspected that she had some human blood in her ancestry. More frontier people did than liked to admit it. There had been a time, many years ago, when humans and elves had mingled a little more freely, at least out in the border country.

“ You’re a good man, Lord Ashinji, thinking about your troops first and wanting to share their hardships with them,” Taura’s husband, Mareo, said.

“ It’s really no hardship,” Ashinji replied.

“ I’ve seen to it that your company all got fed a nice, hot meal with plenty of our good local beer. My husband checked all the horses’ shoes as well,” Taura said.

“ I thank you. Your hospitality has been exceptional.”

“ You asked me earlier, m’lord,” Taura continued, “if anyone in the area had fallen ill with any unknown sickness, and I told you I wasn’t sure. Well, I heard later this afternoon that a man out on one of the farms that’d been attacked by the bandits has gotten sick, and it doesn’t look like anything anyone has seen before.”

Ashinji frowned. “Does the man have strange swellings under his jaw and in his armpits and groin?” he asked.

“ Why, yes, I do believe that was what his wife said. So far, he’s the only one I know about, but there could be others.”

Ashinji finished his dinner and thanked Taura and Mareo for their help.

A sliver of moon winked coyly from behind a cloud, so the stars had the sky nearly to themselves tonight. A short walk brought Ashinji to where his company camped at the center of the village. Gendan and the others greeted him as he arrived. A couple of trestle tables had been set up, and the remains of a substantial meal littered plates and platters. Several oil lamps on poles illuminated the area.

“ Looks like you’ve all had just as good a dinner as I did,” Ashinji commented, glancing around at the members of the company sitting or lounging on the grass.

“ We’ve got some beer left, my lord, if you’re still thirsty,” said Gendan.

“ Oh, I think I could manage one more mug,” Ashinji responded, laughing. Gendan handed him an earthenware tankard filled to the brim, and Ashinji drained it in several swallows. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and put the empty tankard down on the table.

“ Gendan, Taura tells me that the plague has been reported on one of the farms recently attacked. That could mean that the bandits are infected.”

“ We’ve got to find them quickly then, and finish ‘em off, my lord,” Gendan replied.

“ We’ll ride directly to the fords tomorrow and cross over onto the Soldaran side,” Ashinji continued. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we can find their camp, and if we are luckier still, they’ll all be there.” Ashinji sat down at the table beside the older man. “I suppose it’d be too much to hope that they can be persuaded to leave without us having to resort to bloodshed. I don’t mind telling you, Gendan, that I have no taste for killing wretches, even if they are human.”

“ I doubt we’ll have a choice, my lord,” Gendan replied a little sternly, sounding a bit like a schoolmaster chiding a pupil for faulty logic. “The plague’s got to be stopped.”

“ You’re probably right, but I pray you’re not,” Ashinji said thoughtfully.

“ Lord Ashinji, Captain Miri!” a voice called out from the darkness. “Kami is going to give us a song.” Kami was the youngest of the company, a girl possessed of great skill at arms and an exceptional singing voice.

“ We’ll worry about the bandits when we catch them, my lord. Right now, I just want to hear Kami sing,” Gendan said. Ashinji could see the flash of the captain’s even, white teeth in the lamplight.

“ A good plan, Captain,” Ashinji agreed.

The Saihama River ran shallow and swift over a bed of gravel studded with larger rocks. These fords were the only place the river could be crossed for many leagues in either direction. The river had always been the undisputed boundary between the elven lands of Kerala on the north side, and the human duchy of Amsara to the south. This was the first time in many years that there had been any trouble. Amsara had never been a threat, despite its relative proximity, and Ashinji preferred to believe that the human lord of the duchy had no knowledge of the cross border attacks.

The horses splashed into the water, ankle deep, and Ashinji called a halt to allow the animals to drink. On the far shore, the forest grew dense and dark. After the horses had drunk their fill, the company continued across and headed west along the gravel-strewn bank, paralleling the trees.