"The Dragon Isles Chapter 03 Night" by Katherine Bates

Tehal tied off the bandage that she had wrapped tightly around Marn’s palm; though the thorn had gone deep it had not broken and the wound had been clean, it had missed his muscles and tendons and the blood flow was fairly slow. He didn’t seem to be in too much pain, just discomfort.

The horses were waiting higher up the bank; they had had to swim down the river and were now drying off in the last of the spring sun. A beech tree provided shelter for Marn and Tehal and she was already trying to work out a way she could reach the younger beech leaves for food.

She checked the bandage over once more and then stood up stiffly, going down to the river to wash her hands of the blood and mud. Marn flexed his hand experimentally and then moved over to sit by Tehal, placing a hand on her shoulder to draw her attention.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop you going back to the Temple, I knew what you would find there, and I should have stopped you.”

Tehal smiled weakly, wiping her hands on her trousers. “It wasn’t your fault. I would have gone back whatever you had said. I didn’t know you, I had no reason to trust your judgement.”

“You trust me now? Why?”

Tehal shrugged and looked away over Black Snape. The river was full of snow melt, and even now in late spring there was the occasional lump of ice. Across the valley on the other side of the forest she could just make out Alpaca, the small mountain village that was seen as the most eastern part of civilisation. She turned back to Marn, tilting her head slightly and looking at him as if for the first time once more. She frowned softly, mouth twisting.

“There is something about you I trust, I cannot say what it is though, it’s as though I recognise you.” Marn gave no indication of emotion or thought in his expression, but merely signalled for her to continue. She looked back up to the high moors to the east and their left and frowned.

“If I told you that you had talent, what would answer me?”

Marn looked at the girl, bemused; she had seemed so sure of herself when confronted by the Temple Guards, but now, after the danger had passed, she was a vulnerable girl who was scared and felt alone. He let his eyes traverse across her face, down the long lengths of hair, the narrow hips and slender figure, right down to her neat feet that looked as if they’d never even seen shoes. He looked at his hands quickly, embarrassed at catching himself looking at her in such detail.

“I would answer,” he started to say softly, “that talent comes in many forms.”

Tehal looked round at him, a small smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. “Then you know what I speak of, none would say such a thing unless they knew of the talent.”

Marn sighed, “Yes. Now I understand why you trust me, and why I trust you, in this world those with the talent are drawn together. Tehal?”

“Yes?” She was looking at the moors again, her eyes forever drawn to the black brown smudge where the Temple of Shana’dun had stood.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head quickly, standing up and moving away towards the beech tree. Wrapping the cloak Marn had given her about herself tightly she began to pick the smaller, tannin free leaves. Marn watched her carefully.

“What will you do now?” he asked as he stood and moved towards her. She froze, her eyes closed and her jaw set hard.

“I don’t know. I can hand myself over to the Temple Guards and be placed in another temple, or I could go to my father’s home in the north, he would welcome me and hide me from the Temple, or I can travel east and try to reach Quadrigae.”

“Can you outrun these Temple Guards?”

Tehal shook her head, resigned to her fate. “Not with the fastest horses could you possibly hope to outrun them.”

Marn put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, sensing the deep pain and despair that she was keeping locked up. “How much talent do you have?”

She looked up at him, her large dark eyes moist with sorrow. He tried to smile but failed, it was as if his muscles were tripping over each other. She seemed confused and Marn tried to phrase his question another way,

“Could you, for instance, change your form to that of another?”

“I… I don’t know… I’ve never tried.”

Marn smiled softly at her, “I think you can. You will never reach Quadrigae, the tribes are fiercely territorial; but the north, the north you could reach, most of the way is wilderness, it would be simple to slip through unnoticed. And,” he added, noticing that she had opened her mouth to speak, “I will come with you.”

“No, you mustn’t, you don’t know how dangerous the Temple Guards are.”

“That’s why I’m coming.”

Tehal smiled back gratefully and moved away from him, picking the leaves again. Marn put a hand on her shoulder again, “I’ll do that, you need rest. There’s a blanket in my bag, I’ll wake you if needs be.”

Tehal opened her mouth to protest and found a yawn come unbidden from her throat instead, she did need the rest and it would be nice to sleep.

#

Mercinar stood on the steep hill next to Dilwyn and watched the sun sink below the moors. Turning his fiery eyes to Dilwyn he frowned slightly. “You and this Marn are not linked, are you?”

Dilwyn shook his head, “No, he will not be linked to a horse, or any beast on four legs for that matter, I think I can rule out birds as well.”

“How can you speak to him then? Without him being your link you shouldn’t be able to communicate.”

Dilwyn shrugged and dipped his head, ripping the short spring grass up. “He can talk to any animal; after all, he can talk to Tehal. She can talk back to him as well.”

“Tehal is my link,” the Percheron stallion protested, but suddenly doubting his own words, “and has been for a long time now, since I first went to Shana’dun, nineteen years ago now.” Dilwyn looked at the stallion carefully, wary of the older horse’s size.

“But there’s no true bond between you, she trusts you above anyone else and there is a strong friendship there, but nothing else.”

“She has to be my link.”

“Why? It is possible that she may be for another.”

Mercinar snorted loudly and stamped his hind leg, tossing his mane out, “You be careful what you say. You say she trusts me above anyone else, isn’t that proof?”

Dilwyn looked away from the war horse, edging away carefully, “Forget I said anything. Why don’t we go see how the two of them are getting on?”

They trotted down through the trees, Mercinar surprisingly agile despite his bulk, size and age. Dilwyn distrusted the Percheron; he was an old, proud warhorse, stuck in his old, proud ways, but something in the way he spoke led Dilwyn to believe there was more to it than simple stubbornness.

Tehal ran to greet the old war horse, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his neck. He nuzzled her, like a father ruffling his child’s hair. “Is your back alright?” Tehal nodded in reply, her movement so slight that Dilwyn almost missed it, despite his sharp eyes.

“I’m fine Mercinar.” She told him aloud, and then swapped to mind, “I’m going to try and reach my father, and you can come with us if you want.”

“Us?” Mercinar seemed troubled, frowning in disapproval. Tehal looked up at him, surprised at his tone.

“Yes, us, Marn agreed to help me, he has talent as well.” The stallion frowned even more at this, fixing Marn with a cold, hateful stare. He snorted loudly,

“You can’t trust him, Tehal, he’s a magic user, he’s dangerous.”

Tehal stepped back from Mercinar, wounded by his words; he had never spoken to her like that, he had always been kind and caring, a father to her. “But you’re a magic user,” she protested, forgetting to use her mind, “so was Golden, and so am I. You’re not dangerous.”

Marn stepped forwards, suddenly aware of the argument that was beginning to form. “Tehal?” he asked hesitantly, giving Mercinar sidelong looks in case the black Percheron did anything. Tehal shook her head at him, putting her hands on her hips and looking the Percheron in the eye. Mercinar gazed back, his eyes seemingly alive with venom and hatred,

“You don’t understand how dangerous magic users can be: if he’s not part of the Temple then he’s a wild magic user, they are unpredictable, they don’t help people out of the kindness of their own heart, they’re not like that. You don’t understand, you mustn’t travel with him, it will put you in great danger and you cannot trust him.”

Tehal looked at the old war horse, tipping her head to the side. It was as if his mind was opening up to her, every thought and every action; and then Tehal saw. Her voice was quiet and controlled when she spoke. “I trust him, Mercinar; I used to trust you, but you left Golden, you didn’t even try to help her.”

Mercinar said nothing in return, simply snorted and turned about, charging into the water and letting the current take him down stream. Marn put a hand on Tehal’s shoulder and then an arm around her as she turned to bury her face in his chest to hide the tears.

“He’s going to tell the Temple Guards where we are.” She whispered, confident of the fact and wishing that she had known Mercinar’s nature better.

“I know,” he told her softly and called Dilwyn over silently, “and that is why we are going to have to leave now. If you still want to leave that is?”

Tehal looked up as the white stallion pushed his muzzle against her face. She gazed deep into Marn’s sea green eyes and nodded slowly,

“I was never for the Temple. But I cannot ask you to come with me, they will be close on our tail now, you don’t know what they’d do to you if they found you with me.”

Marn gripped her shoulder tightly and smiled half-heartedly, “I know what they would do to me. Besides, you’re hurt, I know these things.”

Tehal looked away from him, muttering that she was fine, and then climbed up onto Dilwyn’s back. Marn considered running along beside, but Dilwyn insisted he mount and Marn wasn’t in the mood to argue. He climbed up behind Tehal and put an arm around her waist, steadying her as Dilwyn let himself into the river.

They travelled in silence until the last light went from the sky, and then the only comment was how bright the moon was. Dilwyn pushed on, seemingly unburden by the weight of two riders. Marn looked down on Tehal with a soft expression in his eyes; she seemed to be so strong when she was confronted with others, but catch her off guard and she was as delicate as a snowdrop. Her slender waist was warm against his arm and he was getting the impression that she didn’t mind him holding her steady.

Her head lolled back momentarily as her eyes closed, but she jerked herself awake and looked rather abashed. He smiled inwardly and readjusted his hold on her. “You can go to sleep if you want, I’ll make sure you don’t fall off.”

“But you’ll need to sleep.”

“Don’t you worry about that, I’m keeping watch, I’ll be fine.” Her eyes closed again and now her breathing was shallow and steady; looking down at her again he saw not as delicate but as vulnerable, after all, she was one girl against the Temple Riders.

Looking behind he saw no sign of pursuit but Marn had a feeling that everything wasn’t quite as it seemed. He lifted his head, the green of his eyes flashing slightly as he detected the smell of dog on the wind. Dilwyn snorted softly in agreement and Marn put a hand on his neck comfortingly,

“Hush, don’t wake her, they’re not here yet. I’m using my magic, we’ll have advance warning.”

“You may need her awake now, she knows more about them than you, what if they hide from even your enhanced senses.”

“She needs sleep.”

Dilwyn didn’t answer, rather lowered his head and pushed on. A dog barked somewhere and Tehal stirred slightly; Marn looked behind expectantly, but even his sharp eyes couldn’t see them yet. He urged Dilwyn on , if they could get to the moor they could loose themselves in peat crofts and windswept heather.

A dog loomed out of the darkness, teeth bared and saliva dripping from its jaws, its muzzle drawn back in a deep snarl, the flesh creased, and the claws sharp and glistening in the soft earth. Another appeared out of the darkness, growling as it leapt towards them. The world span as Dilwyn reared in fright as another dog snapped at his legs. Marn leant forwards desperately, his fingers scrabbling at the white mane, Tehal slid backwards, knocking his fingers away. They fell to the floor as Dilwyn leapt over the dogs, throwing up dust and grass. Marn grabbed Tehal’s shoulders, pulling her upright as the dogs circled round, snarling and snapping.

“What do we do?” she whispered, her eyes wide and alarmed. She felt Marn place something wooden in her hand.

“We fight.” He answered sternly, striking out at the nearest dog. It yelped, dodging backwards, but the others paid no attention and growled at them again, baring their teeth. Marn looked at Tehal quickly as she held the dagger loosely and without much purpose, and then whistled loudly, fingers in his mouth.

Dilwyn whinnied, jumping back over the dogs as Marn slung Tehal up onto the stallion’s back. The dogs snarled as one, springing into the air, aiming for Tehal. Slapping Dilwyn’s flank, Marn leapt back at the dogs, eyes flashing again. His sword snaked through the air, striking down the first dog; the others paused in their attack, they hadn’t seen the sword before, or the eyes. Snarling back at them he lurched for the closest dog. It scampered backwards and the others took its lead, running into the darkness from whence they’d come.

He wiped his lips and tasted blood, he spat; the dogs must have scratched him. Cleaning his blade on the short grass he put the broadsword back into his bag, a feat of impossibility if he hadn’t known magic. Sniffing the air slightly he made his own way into the night.

Dilwyn drew to a halt at the foot of the rocky slope, his chest heaving in exhaustion as Marn looked behind them, cursed Tormder, and then jumped from the stallion to a large boulder nearby. He held his hands out to Tehal,

“Jump, we can try and fool them this way. Hurry.”

Tehal clung to Dilwyn’s mane, her faith had always been in horses rather than people; but the horse was exhausted and she did trust the man standing before her, she trusted his eyes. But she didn’t like the way he had caught up with Dilwyn who had been going at a full gallop ever since they had left the dogs.

“Tehal, please.”

No one had ever said please to her before. She looked into his eyes and then jumped towards him, letting him sweep her into his arms. Here she felt safe, shielded from the world; if only it was as safe as it seemed. Marn nodded to Dilwyn and the white stallion raced off into the night; taking Tehal’s hand in his they made their way through the boulders. Her hands were so small in his, soft as well though she seemed to be a natural horse woman and he would have expected rougher hands.

Climbing over the lip of a ledge he leant down to give her a help up. A dog barked from below and he swore, reaching further than he could safely allow and grabbing the collar of her shirt, hauling her up and dragging her back into the shadows. They listened with thudding hearts as the night became silent once more. Tehal turned her pair of nervous black eyes to Marn beside her,

“What’s happen…?”

He put a finger to her lips gently and placed and arm round her protectively. They waited in silence, and she became aware of a few heather flowers next to her left eye. Spring had only just begun officially two weeks ago, this high up on the moors it was still winter, there shouldn’t be any flowers at all, not until august at least, but here they were, full and bright. Looking at the purple flower again she saw that the base of the flower was frosted, a beautiful silver colour encasing it; and as she watched the rest of the flower was slowly encased in silver.

A twig snapped somewhere nearby and she froze. Her heart thudded in her ear, and she could hear Marn’s echoing through her as his grip became tighter. Swallowing, she turned her head to look out to the left. A creature stood not a few feet away, one she recognised, she recognised the clawed hands that swiped like paws.

It edged closer, sharp muzzle scenting the air, breath setting in the cool night. She turned her head quickly, a gasp threatening to give away their position. Marn put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye, trying to keep her focused as the creature moved away.

A breath escaped her lips, sounding loud in the night. The creature snapped to attention, snout lifting as two pointed ears pricked up to listen, muzzle turning from side to side, taking in long draughts of the night air.

A loud whistle split the night and it moved away at a gentle lope. Marn let his muscles relax, they were safe, at least for a while, as long as they didn’t make their presence known.

A horse whickered softly and Tehal looked up at him; he frowned, trying to understand the message in her dark eyes. Another horse answered in greeting and Marn strained his ears to listen. The sounds were muffled and distorted by the night but he could faintly discern a hushed conversation and the soft singing as a blade was drawn. Tightening his grip on Tehal he braced himself to run; they didn’t sound as if they were moving off too soon.

A horse screamed, the sound bloodcurdling, hurting his ears and seeming to split his head in two. The pain of a horse, he couldn’t stand it. Tehal leapt forwards at the sound,

“Merci…”

He grabbed her, covering her mouth and forcing her down to the ground before she could reveal them fully. They landed heavily, the sound like thunder to his ears. Closing his eyes he held her still as she struggled against his hold, praying over and over again that they hadn’t noticed.

She bit his hand and his hissed, tightening his hold. “Keep still for Tormder’s sake!” he whispered fiercely and she lay still under him. Listening intently he tried to understand the conversation occurring below.

“What was that up there? Nothing I expect, Sir, just my imagination. The horse went that way for sure, Sir.”

“The dogs say they smell blood on the rocks, fresh blood; do not be so quick to doubt your ears.” The second voice sent a shiver down Marn’s spine, and seemed to put one through Tehal as well; he squeezed her hand tightly.

“The dogs always smell blood. By our information his is a horseman, he will not abandon his horse.” A dog whimpered and whined nosily and the first voice spoke again, “What do they say, master?”

“They say,” the voice hissed and Marn closed his eyes, clenched his teeth and fought the urge to scream, “that it is human blood, it travels through the rocks. They must think of the moor valleys. I have a plan, Dorian, follow me.”

Horses and dogs moved off and Marn risked glancing over the edge of the ledge. A few dogs and a man in a grey cloak had been left behind, his mount grazing not far off. He nipped back out of sight and looked to Tehal.

She turned her face into the moonlight and her eyes glistened along with a droplet of water on her cheek. Marn frowned thoughtfully, it could not be raining, and then he realised that she was crying. Taking her in his arms he held her tightly, feeling her tears soak through his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I thought…”

“Hush now, not a word,” he cut her off softly, “come, we must be away, into the moors, but they will be waiting for us, we shall have to fight.”

Tehal nodded and he admired her strength of character and resolve. Breaking into a rare smile, he glanced back down to the hill once more. He could take the horse, but he could not kill all the dogs, they would tell their leader before the two of them could make their escape. He looked to Tehal, she was strong, but not invincible and he saw it as his duty to protect her. His brow creased again; there was no way for them to make their way through the rocks without those below noticing, there had to be some way of making those below move. He smiled slightly and leant forwards to Tehal, placing his mouth against her ear.

“I need you to talk to the horse, making it draw the rest away. Can you do that?” She nodded and closed her eyes. Marn watched her carefully and then turned his attention to the horse below them. It tossed its head slightly, as if annoyed by flies, and then snorted, swishing the long grey tail. Suddenly it bucked, striking the nearest dog. It growled menacingly and snapped at the horse. The horse struck out again at another, bloodying its nose; it too growled, leaping for the horse. The grey leapt back in fright, screaming in pain as teeth sunk into its hind leg. The man leapt up, shouting at the dogs to back down; the animals ignored him, pursuing the horse into the night, the man following.

Marn put a hand on her shoulder. “You did well. Now, come on, we haven’t much time.” The smile fell from Tehal’s face and she realised that they weren’t safe yet.

#

Sheltering underneath an overhang of rock they watched the rain pour down. The clouds had come over quickly before they could reach the moors and they had had to take shelter; Marn knew that Tehal was close to exhaustion, he could tell she was in pain, but she wouldn’t admit to it. Handing her a rapier he asked softly,

“What was that creature we saw?”

“Where did you get that sword?”

He shrugged, noting the way she turned the blade over, admiring its perfection, “Magic bag. What was it?”

“An argul.” She took his word for it and decided that the topic was most likely closed. “It is a vile creature, created by the temple guards as a type of dog.”

“I didn’t look like a…”

“I said it was created, it is a man’s body with a dog’s instinct and head, very loyal and obedient, very dangerous as well.”  They sat in silence and then Marn spoke,

“They said back there that the dogs smelt blood. It wouldn’t have been yours, would it?”

She looked away guiltily, “It’s just a scratch, nothing really, he must have been talking to the arguls; they can smell a slight graze from three hundred paces.” She turned her eyes to him and he was disturbed once again by the black bleakness of them. “Why didn’t you address me through mind earlier, it would have been safer?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Try now.” She waited patiently for his voice to echo in her mind, she even kept her thoughts clear for him, but there was nothing, not a peep. “Are you even trying?”

Marn growled low, “Of course I am. You have a go.”

“Hello.”

“How did you do that?”

“You answered back.”

“How?”

“I don’t know do I? It must be something to do with Mercinar, you can only speak to me on invitation, it must be a link thing.”

“But Dilwyn…”

“Isn’t your link, you must have realised…”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t tell me to…”

Marn leapt for her, covering her mouth with his hand and gesturing to her right. She looked and saw the sharp muzzle of an argul and she fell still instantaneously. Marn, moving into a crouch, waited for a few moments and then grabbed her shoulder, hauling her out from the overhand, dragging her along behind him. Leaping down into a river bed he froze, upstream a little way stood six argul, the moon clearly showing the mud and scars covering their faces. Tehal clutched at the hilt of the rapier, not even knowing where to begin on fighting one of these creatures.

The lead argul bared his teeth, eyes fixing on the two of them, but he seemed most interested in Marn. Taking Tehal’s upper arm in hand, Marn started to back off, keeping the flat blade at his side. The lead argul growled menacingly and motioned for his pack to begin hunting; three disappeared into the heather.

“We should run,” she told him, “they’re hunting us, they’ll be in front of us soon and we’ll have nowhere left to go.”

Nodding, he pushed her ahead as the barks and calls of the argul drifted over the moor. A dark shape leapt from the heather, knocking her to the ground, filling her nose with the rich smell of peat earth. And image flashed before her eyes, two big cats fighting, a black panther and another she didn’t recognise. She shook it from her mind and pushed against the heavy weight on her back, hitting out with her fists, kicking with her bare feet. A powerful set of jaws snapped shut close to her face, the hot saliva dripping down her neck as a set of retractable claws began to dig into the soft flesh below her rib cage.

The argul rolled away suddenly and a hand pulled her to her feet as she grabbed the rapier from the mud. “Run!” the owner of two green eyes snarled as she was pushed forwards. She ran, not glancing backwards as she ducked to miss a swipe from a clawed hand; tripping over a loose stone, she fell heavily. She turned, scrambling backwards through the thick peat, dodging another swipe as the creature paced forwards, walking awkwardly on all fours. Terrified, she tried to stand back up, and found another creature behind her, the eyes of this one sharp and narrow, claws reaching towards her neck.

A hand grabbed the back of her shirt.

“I said run! Now run!”

The arguls hissed, a sound she hadn’t expected to come from their dog like jaws, and she ran. The peat earth slipped away beneath her feet, exposing the hard granite, scraping the soles of her feet in a painfully rhythmic manner.

She tripped once more, feeling sick to the stomach as peat filled her nose, clogging in her hair. Claws snagged in her hair and she screamed, clutching at the arm behind them, dragging her nails through the skin. Hot breath washed over her as the jaws snapped, eager to reach and tear her flesh. She screamed again, striking out as hard as she could. The argul reeled backwards, howling in pain. Stumbling to her feet she ran again, adrenalin racing through her veins, dulling her pain and lending her strength she didn’t have.

The ground dropped away beneath her and suddenly she was falling. Smack. The peat was deep and thick, up to her knees and holding her prisoner. An argul appeared above and she shrunk down as small as she could, praying over and over again to the god of the moon to destroy the foul creations of Tormder. It growled and then backed away, confused by the smell of the peat and stagnant water which had lain in the peat croft.

Pain came flooding through her body as the adrenalin vanished. Her back, her feet, her face, and her hands were all bleeding heavily and the rest of her ached as if she had just run across all of Elnoon and back. She let herself fall forwards onto her knees in the peat, she couldn’t move, she had no energy to move. The peat sucked her in with iron hard strength and her limbs felt like lead.

Tears streamed down her face, she was going to be sucked into the peat, swallowed up forever, not a trace left; and the thing that hurt most was that she didn’t care, not one bit.