Silvanus and Empire, an Original Novel (Chapter Twenty-Two)

beowulfoflegend (65)in #writing • 8 years ago

Welcome back to Silvanus and Empire! I'm your host, the ever-humble @beowulfoflegend, better known as the super-duper-small-scale author David M. DeMar. Check it out, I've even got an Amazon Author page and everything.

Chaos. Blood. The Great Moot ends in tragedy, and the Silvani are playing right into the hands of Spirit-of-Vengeance, whatever her nefarious plans may be! Let's find out what lays in store for those on the northern side of the river this evening....

Silvanus and Empire

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sight-of-Eagles knelt down wearily and dipped his hands into the stream he’d come across. Bringing some water to his lips, he drank deeply. Then, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, he stood up. All his muscles seemed to ache at once from the sudden movement.

I can’t afford to rest, he thought, pushing his tired body into trotting forward. I don’t know what it means, but Father has to know what I saw today. He’d been on the move steadily, making good time since he’d witnessed Spirit-of-Vengeance’s startling transformation. He’d almost reached his father’s camp by nightfall; with any luck he’d be able to catch the tail end of the Great Moot.

He looked up at what he could see of the night sky through the trees. The Hart was beginning to rise, now that all but the tail of the Wolf had slipped over the horizon. I should be there before Wolf’s tail disappears, he thought, estimating times and distances in his head. Looks like I might miss the Moot after all. I hope Father won’t be upset.

He lost himself in thought and the rhythm of his feet upon the ground. He was nearly at camp when he began to hear angry shouts ring out through the forest. Furrowing his brow in a frown, Sight-of-Eagles quickened his pace only to be stopped when a band of five Silvani melted out of the darkness to bar his way. “Declare yourself!” the one in front barked. His flint knife was in his hand.

Sight-of-Eagles recognized the short, powerful frame and broad features. “Roots? Is that you? It’s Sight-of-Eagles. What’s going on? Is the Moot over?”

Roots and the other Silvani behind him shifted uneasily. “Sight-of-Eagles, lad, there’s…” he trailed off.

“What? What is it?” Sight-of-Eagles stepped closer to the stocky Silvani. “Why is the camp a madhouse?”

“Something’s happened, lad. Something’s happened to your father… something terrible.”

“What happened? Where is he? Father!” Sight-of-Eagles pushed past Roots and set off towards his father’s tent. He heart Roots’ shouts behind him but paid no heed as he shot through the forest like a speeding arrow.

The camp was in bedlam. Sight-of-Eagles weaved his way through the press of people, shouting for his father. Finally, he burst through the open flap of Hammerfist’s tent and skidded to a stunned halt.

There was a small crowd of Silvani inside, clustered around the fire in a silent mass. They turned to look at him – their faces were grave. He could hear muffled sobs behind them.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded. “Where is my father?”

“Let him through,” a tired female voice called. The crowd parted silently, and he saw Lost One and Spirit kneeling next to a shrouded form wrapped in a blanket, stretched out next to the firepit. Lost One was crying, and even Spirit looked disheveled. There was a large bruise on her left temple.

Sight-of-Eagles stumbled forward. His legs buckled and he landed hard on his knees. “No,” he whispered. “Oh, please, no.” He reached forward with a trembling hand to pull back the blanket, but Spirit’s hand closed around his wrist.

“No,” she said. “You don’t need to see him like this, Sight-of-Eagles. Remember your father in life: strong, proud, and wise.”

“What-” Sight-of-Eagle’s voice was hoarse and choked. He coughed, swallowed, and started again. “What happened here?”

Lost One broke into fresh sobs as her mother comforted her. “It was the Stoneheart,” Spirit said. “He sprung upon us, grabbed your father’s knife… I tried to stop him but he struck me.” She touched her temple delicately, wincing.

“Does... does my sister know?”

“She went after him.” Spirit hesitated. “Into the forest.” As Sight-of-Eagles stood up, she asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going after them both. I’m going to find my sister, and together we’re going to kill him. Let my flint be forever broken if I fail, by Silvanus.” He strode out of the tent, his fury outweighing his grief. Behind him he heard Lost One let loose another sob.

some time later

Caddoc tugged on Mouse’s wrist again. “Come on,” he hissed at her. “We need to get across the river. South!”

Mouse shook her head dumbly, then jerked free from Caddoc’s grasp. “Don’t touch me,” she growled. “Get away!”

Caddoc heaved a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “Listen,” he murmured hurriedly, “we’re done for out here if we don’t get to safety. Spirit will manipulate your people into coming for us, hunting us down, and killing us like dogs. The truth about your father’s death will die with us if we don’t work together!” Mouse turned away from him, hugging herself and shaking. “Mousestep, are you listening to me?”

The underbrush to their right rustled; they both froze. “Get down,” Mouse whispered, galvanized by the sound. She crouched down herself, silently drawing her chipped flint knife and cradling it in an underhand grip. Her eyes flicked from side to side. The rustling began to grow louder.

Caddoc picked up a fallen branch by his feet and hefted it in his hands. Should do the trick, he thought, and then hurled it as hard as he could into the forest away from Mouse and himself. It twirled end-over-end, clipped a tree trunk, and then caromed into some underbrush several paces away. It made a terrible din before coming to a rest. The rustling near them ceased, and for a long moment Caddoc held his breath. Finally, he could hear whomever was following them creep off in the direction he’d thrown the branch.

Mouse crouched quietly for a few more tense moments before straightening up with a not. “They’ve moved off,” she whispered, sheathing her knife. She sounded tired. “I… can’t go on. Need to rest.” She fell to her knees, breathing heavily.

“You know we can’t stop here. Come on,” Caddoc said, reaching down to grab Mouse’s shoulder. He froze as a knifepoint pricked the back of his neck.

“Don’t. Move.” The voice was harsh and furious in his ears. “I’m going to kill you, Stoneheart; I’m going to do it very, very slowly.”

Her weariness apparently forgotten, Mouse spun on her knees, pulling her own knife again. Then, she relaxed. “Little brother,” she breathed. “Thank Silvanus.”

“I told you one day I’d sneak past you, little sister. Now get up, we’ve got work to do.” The point dug deeper into Caddoc’s neck and he felt blood began to trickle from the scratch.

“It’s not what you think,” he said slowly. He earned a vicious backhanded slap on the back of his skull that sent him reeling. He landed on his back and found himself looking up at Sight-of-Eagles. There was murderous intent gleaming in his eyes.

“Don’t you open your mouth to speak our language again, you monster, or I’ll cut your tongue from your mouth.” He reached down and pulled Caddoc up close to his face. “But I’ll get to it eventually either way, I’m sure.” He let go and Caddoc fell back down to the ground. The young scribe landed with a thud.

“No, little brother, it’s not what you think.” Mouse stepped forward between Caddoc and her brother. “This Stoneheart... he’s not our enemy.”

“Not our enemy?” Sight-of-Eagles shouted hoarsely. “Not our enemy!? Mouse, he killed our father!”

She shook her head. “No. Whatever Spirit told you, it was a lie. She killed our father. I was there, little brother; I saw it.”

“It’s true,” Caddoc coughed.

“Be silent!” Sight-of-Eagles kicked him viciously. “You, who’ve never lived among us, yet speak our tongue like you were born to it, are not to be trusted. Mouse, he’s clouded your mind! Used some sort of... sorcerous trick!”

Mouse shook her head. “No, Sight-of-Eagles, it’s true. Spirit is the sorceress. She… I was there.” Her voice cracked. “I couldn’t stop it. She… did something to me. Made me stop. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t… I couldn’t even scream…” She trailed off, dropping her knife and reaching out for her brother. “I watched Father’s life end at the hands of Spirit-of-Vengeance. Our father, slain by treachery, aided by foul wizardry….” She gasped, clutching at her brother’s deerskin tunic, and pulled herself close to him, sobbing. “I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t stop it…”

Sight-of-Eagles hugged his sister tightly, anger and despair warring for control of his features. “Damn her,” he hissed. “And she stood there, and offered me compassion, kneeling over the man she’d just killed. She’s not human.” He pulled back from his sister and looked down at her. “Mouse, it’s all right. It’s not your fault. She has… powers beyond our understanding.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what it is she wants, but I don’t see how either of us could have stopped her. I saw her today across the river.”

“But that’s impossible. She… she was here, in camp, the whole time. I saw her.”

“And I saw her. Mouse, I saw her! She was on the south side of the river. And I watched her… change.” Sight-of-Eagles shook his head. “She… took the shape of someone else, twice! Her clothes changed with her. One moment I was looking at an old Stoneheart in a dark robe, the next moment I was staring at Spirit-of-Vengeance dressed in deerskins. And then she disappeared altogether in a puff of smoke! I came as soon as I could to… to warn Father of what I’d seen...”

Caddoc cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said softly. The two Silvani looked at him with contempt. “What, you think I’m gladdened by your father’s death? I lost my own father, you know, when I was very young. “

Mouse sneered at Caddoc. “If you’re Longwalker’s son, your father most likely set this whole thing in motion.”

Caddoc stood up slowly, brushing dirt off his borrowed clothes. “Who in all the infinite Hells is Longwalker? And why does everyone think my father was responsible for something that happened nearly twenty winters ago, when the only person telling the story is a manipulative liar, a sorceress, and a murderer? Spirit has lied to everyone she’s come in contact with; for all we know she might not even be Lyr– Lost One’s real mother. You’re going to trust her to tell the truth? She could have murdered Lost One’s father herself for all we know!”

The two Silvani siblings shared a long look between the two of them. “He could be right,” Mouse said.

“He could be working with her,” Sight-of-Eagles growled. “He speaks Silvani like a native.” He looked over at Caddoc. “Explain that, Stoneheart!”

Caddoc sighed. “I think it happened last morning, after you dragged me before Spirit. Do you remember that potion you made Lost One drink? Well, when she dropped the cup, it splashed all over me. I must have swallowed some.”

Sight-of-Eagles frowned. “But she said that would only work for Lost One because of her blood.”

“She’s lied about everything else, little brother – would it surprise you if she lied about the potion as well?”

“Fine, so it could have been an accident.” Sight-of-Eagles crossed his arms. “So what would you have us do, Stoneheart? Sneak back into camp and assault the viper in our midst?”

Caddoc shook his head. “First of all, my name is Caddoc. Let’s use it. Second of all, we’re going to get ourselves killed if we stay here in this area any longer, what with all the shouting we’ve been doing. Third, with Lost One in that woman’s thrall, there’s no telling what kind of terror she could cause. Let’s get to someplace safe and then figure out how we’re going to get her away from Spirit.”

The two Silvani looked at each other, then nodded reluctantly. “I’ll lead us south,” Sight-of-Eagles said. “We should be safe there, for a time.”

“Then let’s go.” Caddoc motioned for Sight-of-Eagles to lead the way.