6.In the following months, Eagle’s footsteps carried him into a land very different from the Bountiful Gardens. It was rocky and barren, sometimes climbing a little, sometimes stretching for miles, flat and cold. There were only a few settlements, huddled here and there, mostly poor. The people from the Bountiful Gardens called this region the Gloom-hills. It was an appropriate name. Whatever life was there drudged on, dreary and pointless.
Unlike their wealthier neighbours, most of the inhabitants of Gloom-hills were mistrustful, if not downright unfriendly. They were used to travellers. Many passed the region on their way to the City of White Marble. Yet the inhabitants refused to interact with them, preferring their own people and their own ways. They did not share the fanatical isolationism of the desert, but they hated outside influence, nonetheless.
Eagle was not really bothered by this attitude. The people still gave him food and shelter in exchange for his services, and that was enough. Better than enough, since they were not inclined to ask too many questions. They did not care why he was there or where he was going. They did not even care much who he was.
But the region had its dangers. There were plenty of wild animals lurking in the hills, along with other evil creatures that had no name. They attacked villages at night-time or waited to spring up on some unwary traveller. He knew he would be glad to see the back of that land.
The end of summer was a dreary affair in those parts. The air was cooler in the mornings, but there was still an unabated stuffiness in the air during daytime. It should not have bothered Eagle, creature of the desert as he had once been. This stuffiness was different, though. Back in the desert, the heat had been scorching and dry. Here it was stifling, getting worse when clouds covered the sun.
The last days of summer brought with them terrible storms. The sky would darken, and the air would become charged. Thunder would roll in the distance. It took a long time for the clouds to burst, but when they did, the rain fell in harsh streaks mingled with hail. It often flooded the land. Eagle learned quickly that when a storm was near, he had to find shelter fast.
One time, while he was walking, lightning had struck right in front of him. It had made his hair stand on end. Another time, he was nearly drowned in a flood. He knew he had to steer clear of storms as best he could. Still, when the storms were over, the land was beautiful for a little while. The grass was bright green, and the sky was clear and blue. The air smelled wet and fresh. He found his heart leaping with joy at such moments of rebirth. They gave him comfort in the formless lands. He knew he would miss the storms when their season was over.
One morning, Eagle came out of his storm shelter and sniffed the air eagerly. He liked how the world smelled after rain – it made him feel alive. Now he could keep going at a brisk trot for hours. He would even enjoy it. He walked without any interruptions save for a short stop to eat. The lands were mostly empty, so there was no reason to linger. He kept up his pace until late afternoon.
He started feeling something was wrong somewhere ahead. He did not know how the knowledge came, but he could not dismiss it. Light-tenders were taught to pay attention to such sensations. They came to them for a reason – from an out-of-place sound or a glimpse of something that should not be there or the presence of a dangerous creature. He had felt the tension once before, during his encounter with the sand-siren. The memory set his nerves on edge.
For a moment, he stood frozen on the spot. He did not know what to do. He did not want to walk into a trap. Perhaps he could find another path that would have him steer clear of whatever lay ahead. But what if it was not him who was in danger? What if it was someone else? What if it was someone there who needed help? He could not walk away and leave them to their fate.
He quickened his pace. For a while, he walked on with nothing happening. Only his anxiety increased. But he could not catch any sound or sight that was amiss. As a matter of fact, he could not hear anything. The world had lost its sounds. That, in itself, was worrying enough. The world never fell completely silent. Not unless there was a good reason.
Eagle broke into a run. Something was telling him he would have to hurry, otherwise he would be too late. The stifling summer air felt like a barrier to him. He ignored his discomfort and quickened his pace. He realised soon the ground was climbing steadily. He had reached a hill. He ran upwards, panting then stopped abruptly. Finally, he could hear something. It was coming from beyond the hill.
He stood still, hardly daring to breathe. There was some sort of growling. He had not heard the likes of it before. It had to belong to some very evil beast, judging from the images that suddenly flooded his mind. And it was not alone. He could feel it – the profound satisfaction of the hunter now closing in on its prey.
Eagle resumed his dash. Up and up he ran, urging his legs to keep carrying him forward. He had never run so hard in his life not even on that fateful day when he had spotted the sand-siren. Only when he reached the hilltop did he stop. He looked down at the valley that stretched before him. And then he saw it.
The creature had to be some kind of wild boar, but it was twice as large. Its tusks were sharp, and they glinted deadly in the afternoon sun. And Eagle had been right about something else. It was not alone.
There was a woman standing a few feet away from the creature. She was clearly aware of its evil intentions. But she was not moving. She was not running away. Maybe she was too afraid to move. Or maybe the beast was compelling her to stand still. Maybe it had the same powers to mesmerise as the sand-siren. Either way, Eagle knew he would have to intervene if he wanted to save her.
He sped down towards the valley. He fell and rolled over a couple of times, but that did not stop him. Always, he got up and kept running, letting the momentum carry him onward. He was in the valley now. Drawing his sword, he ran on, shouting to get the monster’s attention on him.
It worked. The boar whirled round. It recognised Eagle as the greater threat and bounded towards him. As it approached, Eagle had a strange impression, like the beast was somehow trying to ensnare him, urging him to keep still. He fought against it. Spells could not really work on Light-tenders. They could sense the presence of magic from miles away – hence his early agitation – but it did not have much of an effect on them.
Eagle stood his ground in front of the beast as it made straight for him. He could see a glimmer of intelligence in the beady eyes – and of malice. This was no mindless animal looking for food. This was something else, something self-aware that probably killed for sport. Eagle clutched his sword tighter.
The beast was nearly upon him when Eagle swung his sword. The blow went too far off, proof of his inexperience. There was now a glint of amusement in the creature’s eyes. It probably guessed it was not dealing with a hardened warrior. It would enjoy toying with the Light-tender before returning to his original prey.
The boar leaped again. Eagle sprang back. He swung his sword, managing to deliver a glancing blow this time. It did not do much, only irritated his opponent even further. The beast attacked again. It no longer wanted to toy with him. Now it wanted to kill.
Once more, Eagle drew back. He nearly missed his footing and fell. The creature was upon him then, one of its tusks slicing into his shoulder. Eagle nearly dropped the sword as he leaped to his feet. He staggered. He knew he was badly hurt. If he did not do something, if he did not kill the beast soon, he would die.
He struck again. The blade met the flesh of his enemy. But the creature would not back down. It was now standing on two legs, Eagle observed in horror, not like an animal, but like a human being. This was, indeed, no normal wild boar. For the first time, he wondered what he had gotten himself into.
The two now stood facing each other, a boulder between them. Each was looking at the other, both thinking that, if they were quick enough, they could strike first and make sure there was no need to strike again. Eagle’s sword trembled in his hand. His shoulder was bleeding, and the pain was blinding. If the battle did not end soon, he would be too weak and distracted to win.
Without warning, the creature sprang. Its weight sent Eagle crashing to the ground. He could feel one of the tusks cutting into his cheek, but it was all so distant, there was hardly any pain. Desperately, he struck with his sword, trying to fend the boar away.
Suddenly, there was a jolt and the creature moved off him of its own accord. It was furious. Eagle looked up. He noticed the woman he had tried to save standing a few paces away. She had thrown a rock at the boar to distract it.
Eagle felt a faint tug of irritation. He had hoped she had done the sensible thing and fled to safety by now. But the distraction did serve its purpose. The boar moved away from Eagle, and he was able to struggle to his feet. He swung his sword at the beast while its attention was elsewhere.
The sword struck home this time. The creature jerked so hard that it wrenched the sword from Eagle’s hands. He stood there swaying, watching the giant boar fall to the ground. He had been expecting howls of pain, but the beast was silent.
The creature now lay motionless, its eyes glazed and empty. It was dead. But something was happening to it. All of a sudden, flames burst from the corpse, leaving nothing but a pile of ash. Eagle’s sword was consumed along with it.
Eagle fell to his knees. His strength was ebbing. The world was getting foggy. He thought he heard someone calling to him, but he could not bring himself to care. The darkness was too tempting for him not to give in to it.
***
Darkness. It was the only thing he knew for a long while. A cold, cloying sort of darkness that stood between him and the rest of the world. Usually, it was welcoming, protecting him from pain and confusion. At other times, it was a terrible thing, getting hold of him and isolating him until he could not tell anymore if he was alive or not.
There were no thoughts in that darkness. There was only the faintest knowledge of who he was. Eagle was aware of his existence, but only in a detached sort of way. He did not know where he was or what had happened. He did not much care, either.
He knew he must have been hurt badly – perhaps fatally – but he could not bring himself to be troubled by that. From time to time, he was aware of pain and unbearable heat. He knew it was his pain, but it did not feel like that. He had the impression he was sensing someone else’s hurts – and that they could not affect him at all. They had nothing to do with him.
There were voices beyond that darkness. He could not recognise them, nor could he make out the words they were saying. They were probably talking about him. But he thought it would have taken too great an effort on his part to make sense of them.
He did not know how long he remained disconnected from the real world. Time had no meaning in the darkness. It did not exist. It did not affect him any more than the pain and the fever.
Gradually, the darkness began to withdraw. It was soon less striking and less intense. Eagle was starting to feel more and more like himself. He was once more aware of the world around him, even if those short bursts of awareness showed everything was quite painful. One day, he realised the darkness was completely gone. He was lying on something soft. Even before opening his eyes, he knew it was day. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He was not outside, though. He had to be in some room. His shoulder ached and his face was sore. But he was alive. He knew that now.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, the afternoon sun was blinding. He blinked several times to clear his vision. He could now make out the room he was in, the wooden walls and the soft rugs on the floor.
He was not alone. There was a young woman standing by the window. She was tall, with dark hair – uncommonly dark, in Eagle’s mind. It took some time for him to realise why she was so familiar. This was the woman he had saved from the wild boar. The memory of that clash brought a terrible sense of panic to him. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder made him hiss. The woman’s attention was drawn to him at the sound. She left the window, approaching the bed.
“You shouldn’t do that,” she admonished him. “You have been quite unwell for a long time. You should not start moving about so soon.”
She leaned over and placed a cool hand on his forehead. She drew back, nodding to herself.
“Your fever is finally gone. I was getting worried. I think you are on the mend, though. But we will wait until the healer comes this evening and see what she has to say.”
Eagle had a hard time following her words. He had to make a tremendous effort just to remain in the waking world.
“What is your name?” he asked at length.
“I am Carys. And you, of course, are Eagle.”
That surprised him. There had been no time for introductions in the valley.
Guessing his thoughts, Carys smiled slightly.
“You were talking in your sleep. I found out your name and plenty of other things besides.”
That was worrying. He wondered how much she actually knew. Had she found out his former name? Did she know about his gifts? Had she heard he was an exile now?
Her face grew grave. She looked at Eagle thoughtfully.
“I should thank you,” she said at length. “You saved my life.”
Eagle looked away, suddenly tongue-tied.
“I did not do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”
But Carys shook her head.
“No one has dared to confront that monster before. Not for generations.”
“What was that thing?” Eagle wanted to know. “At first I thought it was a wild boar… but there was intelligence in it. It was almost as if it was human.”
“He was,” Carys confirmed. “Half-man, half-boar. He was under a curse. He had been terrorizing our land for years. And you put a stop to it.”
She paused and looked at Eagle as he lay there, tired out of his mind and trying to make sense of her words. She shook her head.
“I imagine my village will want to reward you properly. I do not think there is anything they will refuse you at this point.”
She fell silent and retreated to her spot at the window. Eagle’s eyes were closing again, worn out by their talk. As he fell asleep, he remembered her words and wondered if there was a hidden invitation in them.
7.Eagle’s recovery was slow. The creature’s tusks had done much damage. Apparently, they had also been poisonous. It was the reason why he had been near death for so long. Now that he was finally out of the woods, he was weak and would be so for a while. At first, he could hardly move his right arm. He was terribly afraid he had lost the use of it for good. The thought brought him a panic worse than what he had experienced in the dungeons of the Sun Priests. What would he do if he remained one-armed? How was he to continue his journey? Would he be fated to become a beggar, living off people’s pity? Surely death was the better outcome.
The healer – a bent old woman who looked like some witch from the forest – assured Eagle he only needed patience. He had to rest, but soon his arm would be as good as new. There was a poultice she could give him to make the recovery faster and less painful. She even taught him how to make it himself, in an effort to distract the young man from his gloomy thoughts.
There was not much to be done about the cut on his cheek, though. It was going to leave a scar. Fortunately, he was not one to be vain of his appearance. And, according to Carys, he should bear the marks of his bravery proudly.
Carys was the one who took care of Eagle. She had taken him to her house and spent day and night by his side when he was lying near death. Now that he was getting better, she was still there, encouraging him and urging him to have hope.
Carys lived alone. She had lost her parents to a frost years ago. She had grown up caring for her brother until she lost him too – this time to the cursed boar.
“I wanted to die then,” she told Eagle one evening. “It was as if my entire existence had been in vain.”
“That was why you were there,” Eagle discovered. “You were not caught by the boar. You were looking for it. You wanted revenge.”
Carys looked away. She expected some kind of remonstration from Eagle. Anyone else she knew would have told her she had been foolish. But not him. He understood. He remembered Run and the sand-siren. He remembered how he had wanted to be the one to destroy the creature for taking out one of his own. And he could now understand why Carys’ gratitude held a slight reluctance.
“I am sorry,” he said gently. “You should have been the one to bring him down.”
Carys’ head snapped up. She searched Eagle’s face carefully, half-mistrustful, expecting to see something patronising in the young man. But Eagle was devoid of any traces of contempt or even pity.
“I would have done it, too,” she admitted. “It was not fear that stopped me. It was the Will. That is what we called the spell the creature would cast to paralyse its victims. It made them come to it willingly.”
Eagle nodded, remembering the strong pull from the creature.
“I know,” he said. “I felt it too.”
Carys frowned.
“You did not appear to be affected by the Will.”
Her tone was flat. There was no accusation - or even curiosity. Eagle tensed, afraid of more questions. It had been dangerous, attacking the monster like that, showing that he was unaffected by its magic. At the time, he had only wanted to distract it. Afterwards, he was too busy fighting for his life. And anyway, he had not expected Carys to remain watching the fight. He chanced a glance at Carys. He spotted a glimmer of understanding in her.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I will not ask how.”
He bowed his head in gratitude. Over the next few weeks, he would unknowingly do plenty of things that gave his gifts away. Carys acted as if she could not notice anything out of the ordinary.
Time passed and Eagle felt his strength gradually coming back. He could stay awake for longer and he could stand for a few minutes unaided. He was very proud when he managed to take his first steps outside, leaning heavily on Carys. He was surprised to see the villagers waiting for him. They were eager to talk to him, but they asked no intrusive questions (later, he would learn they were obeying Carys’ directions). They did not care much who he was, anyway. He was the one who had rid them of the cursed boar. He was a hero in their eyes.
There was no question of him leaving again before the winter. He could barely walk the length of the room without tiring and he would be too weak to hunt, or even gather food for himself. He would not survive the cooling weather.
“You’d be dead before the first snowfall,” Carys told him soberly. “Wait until spring. We will see then what is to happen.”
Something in her voice made him suspicious. He did not pay much attention, caught in another worry.
“You are not a wealthy village,” he pointed out. “You might not be able to afford putting up a stranger for the winter months.”
Carys’ nose wrinkled.
“We might not be the Bountiful Gardens,” she snapped. “But we make do. And so will you. We won’t let you starve.”
Eagle ignored the jab about the Bountiful Gardens. He had, by then, told Carys a little about his journey. She had shown herself particularly disinterested whenever the Bountiful Gardens were mentioned.
“You cannot expect me to do nothing to earn my keep,” he said mildly. “Even when I spent the winter in Apple Orchard Village, I still worked for my food and lodging. I suppose I could work here as well.”
Carys’ sharp eyes bore into Eagle.
“You cannot hunt. You cannot help us gather the rest of our harvest. You might be able to feed the animals in a week or so. But that is all I am letting you do for now. The healer will agree with me.”
Eagle bit his lips. Carys was probably going to find him spoiled. But she could not understand what days of inactivity could do to someone always on the road.
“But what am I supposed to do?” he asked in a small voice.
He must have sounded terribly at a loss. Carys’ face softened. She sat down next to him.
“Keep me company. I’ve been alone for so long… Surely you will find this worth your while.”
And Eagle was so eager to show he could be useful, he agreed without a second thought. He did not pause to think what that might lead to.
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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