A to Z Challenge. CHAPTER SIX -- ATTACKED {PG-13 for gore and violence}

            Nándor stared at her, his entire body tense.  “What are you saying?”

Ruya closed her eyes and hissed out a breath.  She sat on the log, clutching her knees with her hands.  Her gaze rose to his.  “It happened just as the Doyen came to escort me to dinner.  The divination was uncalled and came without warning.  The legendary city glowed white in the darkness.  I saw it fulminate in purple fire as the earth shook the ruins.”  Her breath hitched.  “Ahriman stood amongst the flames.  He laughed as something rose from the inferno.  Something ancient.  Something evil.”  She shuddered, rubbing her arms as if to keep a chill away.  

Nándor studied her white face.  She was terrified but determined.  “That’s what you argued about when I saw you leave the table.  Why?”

“Yes.  He thought it just a fey image since augury takes preparation.  He did not want to give you falseness.  He does not know that I have divined like this since I was a young girl.”

“And so you left the Aerie to press the issue.  He knew you would meet up with me and tell me anyway.”

Ruya nodded.  “Yes, and that is why I must come with you.”

Nándor’s hands clenched.  “No.  You’ve told me what you needed to tell me.  I know where I can find him.  Go back to the Aerie.  You don’t belong out here.”

Ruya shot up, closing the distance in angry strides.  Her fulgurant eyes bore witness to her ire.  “Nándor Eldalvey, do not presume to give me orders.  You will take me with you.”

The fiat set his teeth on edge.  “You are not in command now.  I am not your lapdog to jump when you tell me.  Go back to the Aerie,” he bit out, pointing toward the mountain.  “You’ll only hold me back.”

 Ruya watched helplessly as he walked away.  “Wait!”  When he stopped, she took advantage and went to his side, touching his arm.  “I need to go.  It is my future.”

Nándor looked over his shoulder at her somber expression.  “Your future?”  He faced her.  “What do you mean?”

“Augurs cannot divine their own fatidic path.  It takes another to see.”  She bit her lip.

This was the first time he had ever seen her unsure.  “What did the augur see?”

“Purple fire.”  Her voice was a wispy thread.  “My future lies in Phaeris.”  

His hands dropped to his side and looked away, thinking.  His brows furrowed and he gave a shake of his head at his stupidity.  “Gather your things.”  He watched as she did just that, a bad feeling weighing him down.  “I’m going to regret this.” 

Only Nándor admitted he was wrong.  In truth, Ruya was quite capable.  She knew how to do many things that he thought her life in the Aerie had not taught her.  She knew how to lay a campfire as well as cook game without becoming squeamish.  

They camped that night on the borderlands of Lakelin Glades.  They would have to cross the treacherous fen to reach the river delta and the ferry that crossed Loch Hyern.  He commented on it when she gutted the fish he had caught.

Ruya laughed.  “I did not always live at the Aerie.  My mother and father ran a farm.  I remember the simplicity of it despite the work.  I was ten when my parents sought help for my gift.  Doyen Cem came and tested me himself.”  She looked off across the rippling water.  “I left with them the next day.”

The wistful tone had Nándor kneeling beside her.  “I’m sorry.”

Ruya turned to face him, her face breaking into a grin.  “Do not be sad.  The training I received saved my sanity.  Without it, I would have lost myself to the visions.”  

*****

            Nándor watched as night left the sky in the east.  He stood under one of the trees outside of camp.  Tesni’s soft snort was his only warning as three men appeared from nowhere and attacked their camp.  

            Ruya shouted as two of the men grabbed the horses.  She jumped on the third man, beating him with a fist.  

            The man threw her off and fleered when he saw it was a woman.  “Well, well, what do we have here?  A little girl alone?  What a treasure to find in the Glades.”

            He knew what flagitious thoughts ran through the man’s head.  His blood raged as he drew his dagger and closed the distance to camp.  On silent feet, he positioned himself behind the man nearest him.  

            A swift blade killed the man before the other two noticed anything was wrong.  Like a phantom, he was long gone before the body fell to the ground.  

            The leader yanked Ruya from the ground and placed her before him.  He held a razor sharp scythe against her.  “Come out or I will slice her.”

            Nándor said nothing.  He slid behind the second man.  With a slash to the carotid, the second man fell.

            The sun hinted its arrival as the standoff arose. Each man watched the other.

            “Let go of the girl.”

           “Drop the knife,” the man countered.

            Nándor shrugged and did. “Now let the girl go.”

            With depraved eyes, he shook his head.  “Nah.  I think I’ll keep her.”

            Again Nándor shrugged.  “As you wish.  She was a burden anyway.”

            “Nándor,” Ruya whispered, stunned.

            The man laughed.  “Hear that, girl?  You’re coming with me.  Now get the horse so we can –”

            The scythe dropped to the ground.  Ruya turned and a squeak wheezed out of her when she saw why.  A throwing knife protruded from his left eye.  She sidestepped swiftly and backed away, her body quivering.   

            Nándor rushed forward and took her by the shoulders.  “Are you all right?  Are you injured?”

            Ruya’s teeth chattered.  “N-No.”

            He released her and gathered their things.  “Come on.  There may be more of them.  We need to leave now.”

            She stared at him for a second before joining him.

  ©djinnia 2014

A To Z Challenge. CHAPTER FIVE -- LEGEND

            Nándor tightened the cinch on the saddle before checking the rest of the tack.  The horse pawed the ground and shifted in anticipation.  “I know, boy.  I can’t wait to leave as well.  This place is too strange.”  He grinned.  “I do like Lady Ruya.  She has a mischievous streak in her.”

            He thought back to last night as he finished checking the tack.  “I wonder what went on between the Doyen and her and why she –” he bit back his words, cutting off his thoughts.  Swinging into the saddle, he dismissed them with a breathy laugh.  “It’s not my business.”  

            His mind returned to his audience with the Doyen earlier that morning.  A single bell rang out to signal that empyreal prayers were about to begin.  The dawn service was open to all, and he watched many of the Aerie’s guests take up the offer.  

            Nándor had been summoned to the Doyen’s retreat.  For what purpose, he did not know.  It was an invitation he dare not refuse.  

The bell’s last toll had faded when his escort came to show him the way.  He followed the young blonde woman to a large doorway.  She knocked.  At the Doyen’s command, she opened the door and allowed Nándor to enter.

            “Ah!  Welcome, sir.  Lady Ruya speaks highly of you.”  He motioned for Nándor to sit.  “I have news for you.  A new direction to pursue what you seek.”

            Nándor studied the Doyen just as the Doyen studied him.  “Is Lady Ruya well?  I could not help but notice her sudden retreat last night.”

            Cem hesitated for a split second.  “I am afraid she is indisposed.  It is nothing serious, but she is too unwell to deliver this message herself.”  He reached for the folded parchment on the low table between them.  He held it contemplatively, sliding his finger down the folded edge.  He handed it over, his face puckering in dissatisfaction.  

            Nándor read the missive.  His eyebrows shot up in bewilderment.  “Enmyrnis?”

            The Doyen’s mouth thinned.  “Her gift is strong.  That was the place in her divination.  I would believe it.”

            The audience ended soon afterward, but Nándor thought the Doyen had not been pleased. 

Now, as he saluted the gatekeeper and exited the Aerie, he did not understand the Doyen’s irritation.  

He hoped he would never darken the Aerie’s door again.  The eldritch atmosphere scrambled his senses and instincts.  He had not been able to relax his guard.

He gave it one last look before turning Tesni down the path.  He kept his eyes peeled, ready to defend himself.  With two days travel to the mountain’s base and the fork to the main road, he had plenty of time to plan the trip to the border.  

Enmyrnis.  He still had no idea why Ahriman went to that desolate place.  It was nothing but barren wasteland.  What held the esurient rogue’s interest?

Then it struck him like an arrow.  His hands tightened on the reins, causing Tesni to whinny and shake his head in protest.  Releasing his death grip, Nándor leaned down and patted Tesni’s neck.  “Sorry, boy.”

He searched for the evanescent city.  The mythical Phaeris?  Could it be that Ahriman believed the old tales?  Did he truly think the sacred object came from there?  Was that why he stole it?  

The legendary city was just an ephemeral dream, a myth when his great-great grandfather’s great grandfather was a boy.  Many expeditions tried to find the lost city, but few returned sane and most never returned at all.  

A flash of color brought him back the present and the forest.  He cursed himself for a fool.  He had dropped his guard when he needed it most.  He espied a second flash.  Someone was following him.  

Nándor kept track of his shadow but did not tipoff his pursuer that he knew.  He waited until he rested Tesni before turning the tables.  

            Nándor slipped his dagger from his sheath and stalked his shadow with quiet efficiency.  Ghosting through the underbrush, he found both horse and rider.  

            With the boy’s back to him, it was easy for Nándor to sneak up and slam his hand over the boy’s mouth.  Hands flew up to struggle only to stop half way when Nándor’s dagger pricked at the vulnerable skin of his throat.

            “If you move, I will slit your throat.  Do you understand?”  Nándor pressed the blade deeper in threat.  

            A slow nod gave him grim satisfaction.  “Good.  I will release you, but I will kill you if you try anything.”  

The boy nodded again.  Nándor let go and backed away.  “Now answer my questions.  Why are you following me?  What do you want?”

“To help you,” said the familiar voice, turning to face Nándor.

“Ruya!” he choked, shoving the dagger into its sheathe.  “What are – How did – That’s what I saw in the stable last night.  You planned to leave and you used me as an excuse!”

“No!  That is not true.”  She shot to her feet and faced him fully.  “I saw the city.  It’s real.”

©djinnia 2014

A To Z Challenge. CHAPTER FOUR -- A NIGHT'S STAY

            Refreshed from his bath and a change of clothes, Nándor gazed out the window at the darkening panorama.  A knock sounded on his door.  “Enter.”

            A young man entered.  “Sir, dinner is imminent.  I was sent to escort you.”

            Nándor nodded.  “Yes, Lady Ruya said someone would come.  Lead the way.”

            After a short and relatively easy route to the dining hall, Nándor was shown to his seat.  Another servant poured wine in his goblet.  A dulcet harp and flute duet filtered from the gallery above the diners.

            He studied the people at the various tables.  He saw envoys from almost every great house and nation.  Tapestries for each standard were suspended from the ceiling.    Only they did not place him under his country’s banner, which happened to be three tables away.

            No, he had been placed at a table with the Aerie standard above.  He wondered why, but his assumption was he and his fellow tablemates were here on disparate business from those at the country tables.  

            Nándor pushed away his musings as a hush enveloped the hall.  He stood with the others as Lady Ruya entered on the arm of a man.  At a guess, that had to be Doyen Cem.  They took their seats at the high table, signaling the meal was served. 

            A daedal magician entertained the hall with his illusions after the meal.  Miniature dragons flew overhead in an aerial dance, spinning and diving in dexterous feats before dissipating. 

Flowers grew from the stones and they opened to reveal tiny pixies.  They fluttered their wings then took off in an explosion of shimmering dust.  Streaking across the hall, they sped through the gathered people and left multicolored trails winding throughout the crowd. 

It was his imps that caused no end of diablerie.  Hunched over with long pointed ears and sharp nails, they grinned evilly.  Bouncing with the speed of a raging river, they pounced on tables and guests alike.  They poked noses, pulled hair, and knocked over goblets as they gave off high-pitched giggles at their mischief. 

As the last illusion vanished, Nándor clapped along with the cheering crowd.  He caught a glimpse of the high table from the corner of his eye.  Ruya fled the room in a flurry of diaphanous skirts.  The Doyen’s face fell in a dolorous expression before resuming a stony demeanor once again. 

He stood, nodding goodbye to his companions.  The young man that escorted him from before appeared beside him.

When they left the dining hall, he asked to be taken to Tesni.  He wanted to check on the stallion before he turned in for the night. 

Nándor saw that the horse had been well taken care of and wanted for nothing.  He spoke to the horse and rubbed the muzzle.  Giving Tesni a goodnight pat, he turned to leave, but a shuffling noise stopped him.  Walking farther down the stable, he stopped and sidled to the corner. 

He shifted just enough to peer down the shadowed aisle and descried something unexpected.  

©djinnia 2014

A To Z Challenge. CHAPTER THREE -- RUYA

            Her canorous laugh echoed throughout the garden when she saw Nándor’s shocked expression.  “Did you not think that we of the Aerie could not detect his chicanery?  We knew of it long before he arrived.”

            “No, my lady.  I’m delighted that you were not deceived by his duplicity.  He’s fooled many, much to my country’s detriment.  I was so close to finding him.  If only . . .” he trailed off,  rubbing his forehead as sudden exhaustion hit.  Both the journey and the rush of emotion at missing his target had taken their toll on him.  

 
            “Come,” she said concern etching her features.  She motioned for him follow her.  “What you need are a warm bath, meal, and bed.” 

            Nándor nodded with a slight grin at the celerity of her shifting personae.  “I would appreciate that, my lady.” 

            They exited through a different gateway and traversed a straight corridor of celadon brick.  After a while, she broke the silence.  “My name is Ruya, by the way.  It seems I have forgotten my manners.  I do not converse with our guests usually.”

            They turned right at the end of the corridor.  Nándor gazed at her.  “May I ask why?”

             “I do not mind,” Ruya assured him, but Nándor got the impression that there was resentment there.  “My augur abilities do not pertain to individuals.  I see events on world scale.” 

            Her mouth thinned.  “Doyen Cem does not think it wise for me to see our guests.  He wishes to protect me.  He believes that too much interaction with individuals would cause interference in my gift.”

 
            “And you believe otherwise,” he surmised. 

            She did not reply.  Instead, she stopped in front of a beautiful door.  The marquetry design of the dragon was intricate.  Its spread wings covered the top half of the door.  The tips of each wing met at the center just under the doorjamb.  

            “This is your room.  A bath awaits you.”  Opening the door, she entered.  “It is near crepuscule.  Our final meal is served then.  Someone will come and escort you to the hall.” 

She made to leave but Nándor stopped her with a gentle hand.  “You believe differently, don’t you, Lady Ruya?” 

She directed her gaze directly at him.  Her eyes coruscated with power, her demeanor authoritative and sure.  “Yes.”

His cynosure of her was secured in that moment. 

©djinnia 2014

A To Z Challenge. CHAPTER TWO -- AERIE

              He studied the architecture of the Aerie. It seemed to melt into the mountain or it had sprung from the mountainside. He could not decide which. It added to the overall mystery.

             Nándor entered the courtyard, his eyes checking out the shadowed corners of the complex. He dismounted, keeping his hand on the sword pommel. His skin crawled as if he was being watched. The atmosphere here was strange, heavy. Maybe that caused the leery feeling he had since entering the forest at the mountain’s base.

              A double set of doors opened at the far end of the courtyard. A group of people exited after an elderly man, who spoke benisons to each of them. They dispersed soon after.

              A welcoming smile grew on the man’s face when he saw Nándor. He motioned for Nándor to come closer. Was he one of the augurs?

             He approached with Tesni in tow.

             “Ah, I see you have arrived unscathed. The young one was concerned that the bandits would find you on the road yesterday.”

              Nándor stiffened. The man knew of his near miss with the encamped blackguards? No, he said the young one was concerned about him? Who was that?

              The man laughed. “Ah, the young one was correct, I see. You did not believe. She has impressed me with her bailiwick. She shows exceptional talent at augury at her age. Her gift is indeed remarkable.”

             Nándor shifted uncomfortably. He disliked these peoples’ abilities to perceive his movements. This place put him on edge, but he would tolerate it for some inkling of Ahriman’s location. “Sir, I would like to –”

             The man cut him off with a wave of his gnarled hand. “Yes, we know why you’ve come. I will show you where you need to go. Leave the horse. It will be provided for by our stable master.”

              He took Nándor by the arm and half dragged him to an archway. The old man’s strength surprised him, but he realized the folly of his amazement. This was the Aerie. Stories of its strangeness abounded everywhere. Nothing here should surprise him.

              Turning down endless passages, Nándor became lost almost immediately. They went left, right, left, before going around what seemed like an apparent circle. Just when his frustration was at the boiling point, the old man pushed open an arched gate. “There you are, lad. Follow this path to the end and you will find the one who can help you.”

              Nándor released a heavy breath. “Thank you, sir.”

              The old man laughed at the disgruntled courtesy, patting the younger man on the shoulder. “You’ll do.”

              Nándor shook his head at the cryptic remark and watched the old man walk away. He turned to enter the garden and stopped dead. The garden’s brio struck him. With slow careful steps, his astonishment grew. Never in all his travel had he seen the moisture loving plants of the island nations of the Southern Sea grow next to those of the high Northern Tundra. This place was truly magic.

              He reached the path’s end to find an open pavilion where a young woman reclined upon silk pillows. Intricate braids wove around her head and hung down in a thick rope. Her face was awash in sunlight, glowing like burnished marble.

              A slight smile curved her mouth, but she did not open her eyes. “I am glad you avoided the scoundrels.” Her lashes fluttered open. She turned her head to study him then stood and held out her hand.

              Nándor helped her descend. “My lady.”

               Her eyes glittered with deep intelligence as she studied him. “The man you seek came not a week ago.”

               Nándor could not believe her words. The devil had been here! “Where is he? Does he still have the bibelot?”

              “I know not, but neither does he have what he sought here.”

              When he made a move to speak again, she held up an imperious hand. “Do not interrupt. I give this information freely and you will be grateful and silent.”

              His chin tightened and the muscle there twitched, but he acquiesced with a bow. “Forgive me. I have tracked this man for months. This is the first news of him I’ve had in all that time.”

              She touched his arm. “Yes, I know. I have divined it.” An impish grin grew and her eyes danced. “He bedaubed himself in finery and scent, but his brackishness of breath, body, and soul were too great to ignore. He was escorted out of the Aerie and ordered never to return.”

©djinnia 2014