Guardians of the Light (Book One of The Nebril Riverland Chronicles)

  Chapter 5

  The morning sun was bright and intense as it peeked over the top of the mountain. There was not a cloud in the sky to stop it from bathing the valley in its comforting yellow rays. It felt nice on my face as I walked along the path, but I knew it would be cool today anyway. Autumn was on its way, but the air was still a little too crisp for this time of year. Many of the trees and plants did not bear fruit and everyone was concerned about the amount of food that would be available for storage to get us through the long winter months.

  Food, however, was the last thing on my mind as I rounded the corner and turned down the path that led past the bakery and the blacksmith's shop. After passing these two businesses, the path abruptly ended and after crossing a patch of tall grass, I would be at the edge of the woods. If I took one step further than that I would officially be somewhere that I wasn't supposed to be. Since I'd already been so rebellious this week and tomorrow my life would be over anyway, I figured one more infraction couldn't possibly hurt.

  My feet pushed down the tall grass and it rustled along at my sides, gathering around the bottom of my dress. The remaining wildflowers shone beautifully with dew, their little faces straining toward the first light. Usually I would stop to admire them and maybe pick a few, but today the only thing I could think about was getting to Ashel's house to find out if what I had heard last night was true. "Mama's dead....Mama's dead." His voice still echoed in my ears.

  I had left the house before dawn while my parents still slept. The facion bark tea had kept me asleep most of the previous day, and when I awoke later in the evening my head still ached, so my mother gave me another cup. She then tried to force feed me some soup and bread, but I passed out again before I ate much of it.

  Since I'd slept most of the previous day and into the night, I woke early, hours before day broke. Fortunately, there was no more pain in my head, but I had nothing to do except wait around for my parents to wake up and lecture me about the events of the previous day. My solution was simply to not be there when they awoke. That's certainly not how I wanted to spend my last day of freedom. So, I got dressed and slipped out the door, my actions muffled by the sound of my father's snoring.

  First, I went to Jalya's house and peered in her window, but she was not in her bed. This heightened my fears, as I could only assume she was with Ashel. My first instinct had been to run there straight away, but since it was still so early, I figured they would be sleeping. So I spent at least an hour wandering about the village. It was the first time I had ever taken a night time stroll that wasn't guided by a headache induced stupor. I used the time to organize my thoughts and try to process everything that had happened yesterday.

  I thought about Callum and how he'd turned from a nice guy to an intimidating bully in the matter of an hour. I thought about the man on the hill and why I'd had such a desire to reach him. And did his reluctance to leave the hills indicate that he had the same feeling? I'd never thought about it before, someone with the same problem as I had. I'd grown up thinking that it was some weird and unique thing, something to be ashamed of, not something that might also afflict others, or maybe even something that had a purpose.

  These ideas, that I couldn't comprehend while in the throes of a headache, weren't all that much clearer to me when I was well rested and feeling good. By the time I reached the edge of the woods and took that first scandalous step inside, there was only one thing that I was sure of: I could not marry Callum tomorrow. I didn't know how I could fix the situation, but I knew it was not happening.

  What could they do if I refused? No one had ever refused a union before. They had contested it, as Callum and his parents had, but in the end, what the elders said was taken as law. Would they banish me from the village like they did Hallen and Ashel? Would my friends and family never be allowed to see me again, even my own mother?

  These thoughts haunted me, so I plunged into the forest in an attempt leave them behind. I always felt better out here, in the wild beauty of nature, away from the tidy, rigid order of our village. There were no eyes watching me here, waiting for me to slip up once again. There was no one to disappoint, nothing to feel guilty about. There were only tall, majestic trees and small animals scurrying about trying to collect food for the winter, and, because it was autumn, a blanket of red and yellow leaves covering the ground. They crunched under my feet as I descended the small hill that led to the edge of the Nebril River.

  As its name suggests, the Nebril River runs down to our village from Nebril City. It weaves its way through the woodlands, passing by several small communities just like our own. It cuts through the mountains that surround our village and the cliffs and canyons that make up the landscape to the west of us. The elders told us that if you follow it long enough, it will lead you to a great sea, but I knew of no one who had made such a trip. In fact, I had known very few people that had set foot outside of our village borders.

  The river was so shallow this late in the year that I could almost hike up my skirt and wade across it. However, in the spring, the thawing snow made it swell to many times its present size and the current was so rough that it could not easily be crossed. When we were kids, I'd spent one summer helping Jalya and Ashel build a bridge, so Jalya could easily travel from their house to the village and back. Otherwise she would have to walk all the way to the bridge by the church which not only made for a longer trip, but also put her at a greater risk of being seen entering the woods.

  We had so many good memories down by the river: playing with frogs, trying to catch fish, and searching for treasure that didn't exist. The happiest times of my childhood had been spent in these woods, where I wasn't supposed to be. I feared that it was all coming to an end, not only because of my impending marriage, but, because if Hallen had died, there would be nothing to keep Ashel here.

  Jalya herself would be getting married in less than a year. Her matching day was just over three months away. Once she was married it would be hard for her to continue to come out to see Ashel. Her father was too drunk most of the time to notice what she was up to, but her future husband probably wouldn't be. It was the disturbing reality that I think we had all realized for a while, but none of us had actually voiced. As I ran my hand along the crudely fashioned railing of our bridge, I wondered if today would be the last day that I would be crossing it.

  I climbed the small rock wall on the other side of the water and pulled myself back up into the trees. As soon as I took the path through this last little grove, Hallen and Ashel's cabin appeared. It was small and plain, built of roughly hewn logs taken from the surrounding trees. From the outside it didn't seem like much, but inside it had always been warm and comfortable and inviting. Much like my own home, but without the guilt and oppression that went along with it.

  A vegetable garden grew along one side of the house and was surrounded by a fence to keep out the animals. It didn't always work; I had been present on several occasions to hear Ashel's cursing after he'd found that a deer or squirrel had ransacked the garden.

  I figured that it was quite early yet, and that they probably were still sleeping, so I climbed up on the tiny front porch and decided to sit and wait until I heard movements from inside. However, no sooner had I made myself comfortable than I heard noises coming from around the back of the house. Scraping, a little bit of banging, followed by a long string of cursing. Ashel. He always did have a temper.

  I got to my feet, jumped down off the porch and scurried around the side of the building. I'd forgotten about Hallen for a moment and expected to see only one of Ashel's small perceived annoyances. But I was totally unprepared for what I did see. When I came around the back of the house, I didn't see him at first. I saw nothing, but then heard a sound like someone crying.

  "Ashel?" I said quietly. "Is that you?"

  There was a sniffle and then a voice choked out, "Emerin?"

  I looked around, trying to find the origin of the voice which seemed to be coming from ami
dst the trees that were behind the house. I peered in and still didn't see him, so I moved closer. My breath caught in my throat when I saw it...a huge hole.

  "Emerin, I'm here," Ashel said. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness in the cluster of trees, I realized that he was in the hole, with only the top of his head peeking out, and he was standing next to a shovel.

  "Oh no," I gasped, realizing in horror what this meant. "Your mother..."

  "I don't know what happened. I went out hunting yesterday morning, I wasn't gone very long, and then when I got back..."

  I couldn't speak, couldn't yet comprehend what he was telling me.

  "I just don't know what happened, Emerin. She was fine when I left, but when I got back, she was lying on the floor not moving, not breathing. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't even get Doctor Emerest; they wouldn't let me into the village. I don't understand; she was fine, and I didn't see or hear anybody...." His voice began to waver and he stopped talking to compose himself.

  My voice came back to me at last. "I'm so sorry, Ashel. Is there anything you need me to do? Um, I'll dig for a while and you rest."

  He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing mud across his face. "No, it's okay. I'm pretty much done. I just need to put her in. I'm not sure if I can do it....just seems so final you know."

  I nodded, not knowing what else to say.

  "Jalya's still sleeping I think. She was pretty upset last night, so I don't think she slept much." He threw his shovel out of the hole and then climbed out himself. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and I wondered how hard he must have been digging to keep himself warm in the chilly air. As he walked toward me, he gave me a curious look. "Are you okay? You seemed really out of it when I saw you last."

  "I'm fine...I mean, I am now. It was just a headache."

  "There's no such thing as 'just a headache' with you. I heard about your little escapade yesterday. You must be in a crap load of trouble."

  "Yeah, but I left this morning before they could say anything to me about it."

  Ashel chuckled and he almost seemed like his old self again. "Maybe you ought to not go back." I loved the fact that he never asked me why I went on these strange journeys, never questioned my motivation; it was like he understood and there was no need to explain.

  "Where would I go?"

  "You could stay here with me. I'm gonna need some company now." The pained look washed over his face again, and he seemed like a different person. "Though I guess Jalya will probably move out here shortly after her matching day....depending on who she gets, of course."

  "You think she will?"

  "I don't think she has any love for the village that's for sure." He shivered slightly, seeming to notice the cold for the first time since I'd arrived, and reached for the shirt that was draped carelessly over a tree branch. "Damned cold. Varsak must be coming early this year."

  "Don't say that."

  "Why not?" he questioned, nonchalantly. "Eventually something's gotta happen to shake things up a little."

  "I don't want things shaken up like that, thank you very much."

  Everyone in the village knew of the Varsak. They are a race of giants that live in the northern outlands, a vast and desolate plain. This flat terrain is covered mostly by grass, its monotony broken only by the Nebril River, whose tumultuous northern waters slash the landscape in two. I had never seen a Varsak, nor had anyone that I knew, but we had all heard their description. They are enormous, more than ten feet tall and stocky, with grey-white hair that covers most of their bodies. Clubs, spears, knives and axes are the weapons that they carry with them, but they are unnecessary, because no one can challenge their physical strength.

  These giants are gentle and peace loving and generally keep to themselves, except under certain circumstances. They are very protective over what they consider their territory and will declare war on anyone who infringes on it and refuses to leave. In fact, the last war, which had been fought about seventy years earlier, was caused by one of the nomadic clans from the south moving into the north to hunt. The Varsak were able to force them out easily, but many of the woodland communities were devastated in the process. That was the last time that winter had come early.

  The Varsak are a nomadic people and patrol their lands throughout the year to make sure that no one is trespassing, as well as to get the nourishment they need. The interesting thing about them is that rather than eating food to sustain themselves, the Varsak live on heat. As they travel, their huge bodies absorb the heat from their environment, causing the air and land around them to become cold. This is why it is cold in the north; this is what causes our yearly winter.

  The Varsak journey on a schedule and every year at the end of the summer, they head south and sweep through the part of their land that lays next to the woodlands. Everyone knew that each year they would come at the same time without fail, and we planned our crop planting and harvest to coincide with this schedule. They never came unexpectedly unless there was trouble, thus they had been unfailingly punctual for the last seventy years. The Varsak coming early implied a horror unlike anything that we'd known in our young lives. I really didn't want to acknowledge that they could be the cause of our cold weather; however, I could honestly think of no other reason.

  "Well, the elders don't think that's what it is." I retorted, though I knew that reasoning wouldn't hold much weight with Ashel.

  "How do you know they don't?"

  "They keep going on about how it's nothing, that strange weather patterns are normal sometimes and it's nothing to worry about."

  "Well, of course they're gonna say that. They don't want the whole damned village to panic and run around waving their rakes and hoes, now do they? They want you all to believe everything's okay and just go about your business. Just like they do with everything else....never question it, you know?" He looked at me with a smirk. "Honestly Emerin, even though you're older than me, I'm years ahead of you in brains."

  He winked mischievously and put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I was so happy to see the sadness lift from his face, that I forgot about my sore arm, until of course he squeezed it.

  "Oww, ouch," I squealed involuntarily and pulled away from his hand.

  "What...what's the matter?"

  "Oh, uh, my arm's just a bit sore. I fell on it yesterday while I was running away from the trading post."

  "Well, you must have fallen awfully hard to make it that sore; I barely put any pressure on it at all. What did you hit it on?"

  "I don't remember, really. Everything about yesterday is kind of a blur."

  "Well, let me see it. Maybe I have a salve or something to put on it. We've got about a hundred different potions in there."

  "No, it's fine Ashel, really."

  "It's clearly not fine. Let's go inside and you can take off your coat and I'll have a look. I promise not to grab it again." My reluctance must have shown on my face, because instead of turning to go inside, he turned so he could look directly at me. His brown eyes searched my face. "You're lying to me," he declared.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You didn't fall. It was him, wasn't it?"

  I nodded and avoided his gaze. I knew he meant Callum. For some reason it was impossible to lie to Ashel. Somehow he always knew.

  "So what, he's beating on you now?" He spat the words out. I knew that Ashel would be mad. His hatred for the village men coupled with his protectiveness for me was a recipe for the worst kind of anger. I didn't want him to be angry because there was no point; there was nothing he or anyone else could do about the situation.

  "No, he just grabbed me hard, and it was only this one time. It was my fault anyway; I shouldn't have been wandering....."

  "I never liked the idea of you marrying that crooked nosed twit!" Crooked, that was what was wrong with it. At least I wasn't the only one who saw it.

  Ashel continued with his rant, becoming louder now and wringing his hands together. "He thinks that h
e's safe, because the men won't let me into the village, but I can wait him out. I'll watch and wait and when he's working at the edge of the fields, over by the hills where nobody is, that's when I'll get him. Yes, yes, his nose is gonna be lookin' a lot worse after that."

  It was hard not to smile; he was so sweet sometimes. I thought for a moment about which one of them would win the fight, but couldn't decide. Callum had him in size, but Ashel was much crazier. I figured it could go either way. However, it wouldn't help anything.

  "Don't bother with him, Ashel. You know you'd only get in trouble. The elders would deem you a violent threat and send the men out here to get you. Then they might send you off to Lock Up. It's not worth it."

  Lock Up was where the woodland villagers sent their unwanted: violent criminals, petty thieves and those they considered insane or a danger to the community. The compound was a sprawling community of houses built in a clearing in the southeast, in the bend of the Nebril River. I wondered if the derelicts of Nebril City were sent there as well.

  "I can't let him get away with this, Emerin," he said more softly now, seeming to calm down.

  "He won't. I'm gonna tell my parents." My voice brightened as the thought came into my head. "My father, he won't like it either. Maybe they won't make me marry him; Callum doesn't want to marry me either. He and his parents contested it already. Maybe if my parents go with me and contest it too, maybe then the elders will change their minds."

  Ashel gave me the kind of sad smile that someone would direct at a naive child. "Your parents aren't gonna contest it, you know that. They're just happy that they've gotten someone roped into marrying you. They probably think that they're doing the right thing...you know, they think that it will settle you down and make you normal. They're not gonna put an end to that because of a few bruises. I hate to say it, but your only way out of this marriage is to leave the village entirely."

  "You really think they would do that, make me go through with it anyway?" The tiny bit of hope in my heart faltered as I realized, even before he said anything else, that he was right.

  "I don't know." He seemed to relent a little. "Maybe you can talk to them; maybe they will see it your way. But if they don't, Emerin, please, just promise me that you will come back here. Please just make sure you're gone before the wedding tomorrow. Please."

  "Okay," I said. I could not say no to the dread that filled his voice. It might not be so bad living with Ashel. He certainly knew his way around the forest and would be able to provide for us. But I wasn't sure what a living arrangement like that would mean to him. He had just turned fifteen, and even though he was almost as big as the men in the village, he was not quite a man yet. Though he would be one soon, and I found myself wondering what kind of husband he would make as I watched the emerging sunlight dance across the top of his dark hair. "I just hope that you're ready for me...apparently I can be quite a handful."

  He laughed and put his arm around me, but much more gently this time. "I think I can handle it. Now let's go find something for that arm."

  Jalya was awake when we got inside, and she was feeding the fire in the small wood stove. She looked up as we walked through the door and Ashel had been right; she looked exhausted. Nevertheless, she smiled when she saw us and I immediately crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her weary frame. She began to cry and I sat her down on the bench and held her as her body shuddered against mine.

  Ashel went to the cupboard across the room and busied himself looking for some magic potion for my arm. Hallen was always making herbal products; she had something for every ailment. Except, of course, for my headaches. Nothing she gave me ever helped them, and as the years went on she seemed to be more and more uncomfortable discussing my symptoms. I used to think that she thought I was some sort of demon like everyone else did. As I thought about it that moment, though, I realized that she probably knew something that she didn't want to tell me, something that she thought I couldn't handle. And what had Jalya meant when she told me that I had been acting like her mother?

  Jalya's sobs were beginning to weaken as Ashel came over to the couch with a small earthen container. He pried out the cork lid and inspected the contents. "Ahh...just as I thought, bellusimi jelly, good for bruises and swelling." He stirred the gooey mass with his finger. "You won't smell very good, but maybe then certain people will stay the hell away from you."

  I had taken off my coat and began to roll up my sleeve before Jalya seemed to process what was going on. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself or something?" She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and studied my arm. "That looks awful, what did you do?"

  I looked down at my arm; it really did look terrible. There were big black and purple welts all around my upper arm in the unmistakable shape of fingers. I looked at Jalya's concerned face and opened my mouth, unsure of what words were going to come out.

  Fortunately Ashel spoke up before I got the chance. "She fell, you know, when she went on her grand excursion yesterday. Tripped over her own feet in her haste to get away from Miss Telly and the trading post gossip."

  Jalya smiled at that. "Yeah, it was pretty awful. I wish she'd taken me with her." If she suspected that Ashel was lying, she didn't say anything about it. I should have known that he wouldn't want her to know the truth, wouldn't want her to have something else to worry about today. She took a deep breath and stood slowly, looking around as though she were still in a dream. "I was about to try to eat something. Do either of you want anything?"

  Suddenly I realized just how hungry I was. I had eaten nothing this morning, and not much more than that yesterday. "Yes, please," I said enthusiastically, as Ashel dabbed the vile smelling goo on my arm.

  Jalya grabbed a half-eaten loaf of brown bread from the cupboard. "Ashel, are you eating too?"

  "Not right now," he mumbled. "As soon as I'm done with Emerin, I've gotta go back outside and finish up some stuff." His face was intense as he worked the salve into my skin. I realized what stuff he was talking about and wondered if Jalya understood as well. The sullen look that fell over her face as she turned to find a knife told me that she had.

  "Okay, after we're finished, we'll come out to help," she said, but didn't look up.

  Ashel rolled my sleeve down over the emanating smell and replaced the cork in the jar. Wordlessly, he stood up and walked out the door. Jalya sliced off thick hunks of bread and lay them to toast on top of the stove. Hallen had been such a good cook; I wondered how well she had taught Ashel. He knew how to hunt, but could he survive out here on his own? Part of me wondered if my moving out here would be as much of a help to him as it was to me.

  "I'm worried about him," Jalya said, as she returned to the kitchen to find the little black tea kettle. She threw a handful of herbs inside, then filled it with water that they kept in a large clay jug. Then she placed it on the stove next to the bread which was beginning to sizzle and turn brown at the edges.

  "Do you think he'll be alright out here all by himself?"

  She shook her head slowly as she flipped over the pieces of bread and spread them generously with lard. "I just don't know, Emerin." The lard softened and melted into the toast. It glistened in the light that was now pouring in the window. My stomach growled.

  "He asked me to move out here. You know, instead of marrying Callum."

  "Really?" She laughed and shook her head again. "Well, I'm not really surprised."

  "Why's that?"

  "He's been in a snit ever since your matching day. He loves you, you know. He doesn't want you marrying someone else."

  "Oh Jalya, not this again." She was forever trying to convince me that Ashel's feelings for me were more than just friendship.

  "You know it’s true, Emerin."

  "I think he's just worried about me. He doesn't think Callum's a good man."

  "Callum's not a good man. Look what he did to your arm." She looked me straight in the eye as I gaped at her. "What? Do you think I'm stupid? You don't get bruises that look
like that from falling down," she chuckled. "Ashel must think I'm blind or something."

  "I'm sure he just didn't want you to worry."

  "Well, I'm gonna worry, because I'm your friend. You could do a lot worse than Ashel, you know. He's a good person, and he really cares about you, and I'm not just saying this cause he's my brother either. Now I know he's kinda young, but he won't be forever."

  "I know....I just don't know what to do....I'm so confused about everything."

  "Yeah. I'll bet you are." Jalya handed me my toast and turned back to pour the tea. I took a bite. It was still a little too hot, but I wolfed it down anyway. She noticed my hunger and gave me a second piece when she brought my tea. "Anyway, I agree with him."

  "What do you mean, that I should live here?"

  "Well, that would be great, but if you don't want to do that....well then, I think you should at least leave; go somewhere else. I don't think it's safe for you there; people don't understand you. Eventually things will get bad for you if you stay."

  "Why do you think that?" I said with alarm. She was beginning to scare me.

  "It's obvious, Emerin. They want you to change, to be a different person. And you can't. What you need isn't in that village...it's out there." She swept her arm out toward the window in the general direction of the mountains. She paused and thought a moment before speaking again. "I'm not going back."

  "You mean back home, to your father?" I was shocked, though I probably shouldn't have been.

  "That's not a home," she said gravely. "It never was...my home is here with my brother."

  "Oh.....of course it is." I knew she was right. No matter who the elders picked for her to marry, Jalya would never feel at home in the village that shunned her mother and brother.

  She smiled. "But you're still welcome. There's room enough for all of us!" I knew that she meant it, but I had to laugh when I looked around at the tiny cabin.

  "Maybe," I said around a mouthful of toast. "It just might come to that."