Tales from Alrais  By Mr John Naudi 

The Life of the Trio (Extract)

Part 1 She stared at the mauve sky and at the grey horizon turning greener by the second. She was sitting like a sentinel on the highest branch of a tall tree overlooking the eastern plains. Unlike any ordinary sentinel, she wasn’t waiting for the sun or for its warm comforting lights, but for a black speck to appear somewhere on the vast horizon; just as she had hoped yesterday, and the day before and the day before that. But as the mauve sky turned azure and the golden sun emerged from behind the Cold Mountains to her left, she reckoned that today was just like the last three. ‘Nothing huh, ma?’ called out a voice from below. ‘Ma?’ Her three sons appeared right next to her before she could even look downwards. ‘He’ll come, don’t worry’, said Ulvian. ‘Sure he will. He’s always been the best at selling his wares. I bet he’s found too many customers this time, so he couldn’t return as soon as usual’, continued Valdonyr. ‘And if someone’s following him and-’ ‘There he is!’ exclaimed Nileya, making them all jump. ‘Oh no, oh no, no, no, no!’ she said, hopping fretfully on the branch as if she’d spotted Death itself. They followed her hand’s indication eastward and to their great surprise spotted not only one speck but a dozen of them. They narrowed their eyes and realised that the closest one was a man on a horse, followed by other men on horses which seemed to be armed. ‘No no, please no!’ whimpered their mother, leaping off the branch and disappearing into the Forest. For a moment the three boys stared at each other; unable to believe how fast she had vanished and trying to understand what was happening. Nardul and Valdonyr turned their gaze back on the horizon, while Ulvian instinctively leaned downwards and called for his mother in the thick Forest.   Part 2 ‘What do you see?’ he asked after he had resigned. ‘It’s not clear but-’ ‘Brothers’, started Nardul. ‘This doesn’t sound good at all. Mother just flew off. It must be father who’s in trouble. Let’s just ride out to meet those people out there. What do you say?’ ‘Quit talking and let’s go now!’ shouted Ulvian who had meanwhile been trying to discern more of the situation far away. ‘That’s dad, and the men following him are armed and they’re chasing him like wild beasts. There’s no time to get horses-’ He jumped off the tree and his brothers followed him. Fast and wildly they ran, dashing between trees like darts. Any creature who watched them understood the horror at hand. The alarm was also raised in the elven village as the boarder sentinels identified the peril. In a few seconds the three brothers were out of the Forest, sprinting like cheetahs on the green plains as the bright and hot rays of the sun shone on their trembling shoulders and strained faces. Now they could see - through their sweat-filled eyes - their mother far ahead, screaming in a painful way that made their hearts ache and their feet fleeter. Their father rode a fawn horse and was being chased by a dozen soldiers on horses; wearing scarlet cloaks and armed in chainmail armour and helmets. Some were holding long spears that flickered in the sun, while others carried unsheathed swords and pointed them at Rulban. They were not more than two hundred metres far. And the three brothers and their mother ran and ran towards this maw that would swallow the entire family without pity. From the edges of the Forest, wood elves were firing their arrows at the armed men. At first these had little effect, but as the chase crept closer to the Forest more arrows managed to find their way through the thick armoured chests and the round helmets. When Nileya reached her husband, the boys saw her raising her hands to her mouth and spanking the exhausted horse, which galloped faster towards the Forest. But Nileya was left alone like a weathered column in a primeval ruin, and her sons howled in terror at the mere idea of seeing her slain.   Part 3 Everything was happening so fast, but something then occurred to the three boys even though they weren’t aware of it: their feet were barely touching the ground anymore and they were running like the wind, crossing the last few metres between them and their mother in the blink of an eye. The chasers – who had been reduced to half their original number by the elven arrows – were perplexed upon witnessing the three boys’ extraordinary speed, and they instinctively pulled their horses’ reins and rode back to Faningor amidst shouts of fear and retreat. All save one. His dark narrowed eyes were fixed on Nileya and he was riding towards her like a madman in search of sanity. It didn’t seem to matter that his men had abandoned him. ‘Oh no, it’s Beltram!’ said Nileya, and her boys moved in front of her. ‘He will taste our fists before he even dares to look at you!’ said Nardul. He hadn’t even finished his claim when an arrow pierced lord Beltram’s chest. But no arrow was going to stop him from reclaiming what he had lost so long ago. He had been dreaming of this moment ever since the elf had escaped with a party of rebels many years ago. The elves of the Forest saw it in his eyes, read it in his rage, and another arrow pierced Beltram’s chest. His horse neighed in terror and raised its front legs, hurling its wounded master backwards and then galloped away as hastily as it had come. No one else moved. Nileya and her sons were looking pitifully at their foe, who was lying on his back and gasped for breath. Beltram tried to raise his head to look at them, but his spine burned and he winced. Nileya moved past her sons and approached her nightmare. Beltram chuckled as he noticed her getting closer. They looked at each other for a period which seemed to last forever. Then Beltram spoke with great difficulty and between huge coughs. ‘I have found you at last’. Nileya didn’t stir. She looked at him with an expression which the boys couldn’t see, for she was giving them her back. Yet by the look on Beltram’s face, they discerned she was somehow frustrating his soul. ‘You’re dying’, she spoke at last, her voice lower than a whisper yet firm as the deepest foundations of the Cold Mountains. Beltram coughed before he replied, still grinning as well as he could. ‘Your husband cannot hide any longer. Now the king knows where he is. Deliver him to Faningor, and we will leave your Forest and people in peace’. ‘You never leave anyone in peace, let alone would your king’. He chuckled again, blood spurting from his mouth.   Part 4 ‘Even in your last moments, you show no repentance’, she ended and turned away. He tried to call her but his coughs became harsher, his face paler, his panting less frequent, until his eyes stopped blinking and his body moved no more. Nileya and her sons left the bloody field like souls who had visited hell, while the wood elves came out of the Forest and went to calm down the horses which had lost their masters. These would be taken to Rilyad until they were fully recovered and then set free in the wild. ‘Father is waiting’, she told them as they crept under the protection of the trees. ‘Was he injured, mother?’ asked Valdonyr. Their mother nodded slightly, and signalled to them to move on. When they reached the village they were welcomed by an elf who asked them to follow him. They went with him to the Healing Tents, which were out of the main village unless there was calamity or war. The walk seemed to last for eternity, but finally they arrived, and the elf gestured they could go in. Rulban was lying on a bed, and when the healers noticed his family they nodded and left the tent like white shadows. As soon as Rulban saw his wife and children he sighed heavily, and tried to smile, but he winced instead. Nileya ran towards him and started to caress his worn face. ‘What’ve they done to you?’ she said, sobbing; for indeed he was in a grave state. He was lying on his right side, for he had been pierced by three arrows in the back and the wounds were still fresh. His scalp was covered in bandages. His face was greatly bruised and he had a deep stitched slash on his left cheek. His left arm was in a sling and rested on his side. The skin around his abdomen and his wrists was scraped and livid. ‘It doesn’t matter’ he said, coughing and wincing. ‘I had promised you to return safely, and I tried to keep my promise as-’ She put a finger to his lips. ‘No my love, don’t worry about that. Save your breath for you’ll need it’. ‘I’m dying’, he said. ‘Where are my children?’ ‘No no, you cannot leave me like this, Rulban’, she whispered, cold tears flowing down her pale cheeks like a river through a broken barrage. ‘Nardul, Valdonyr, Ulvian’, muttered Rulban.   Part 5 The boys approached their father, while their mother kneeled and put her face to his massive yet cold hands. ‘I’m making an effort to smile and you carry those grave faces?’ he said, fixing his eyes on them. ‘My children, I’m sorry I haven’t been the perfect father, but please know that I have tried-’ ‘You don’t need to mention that, father’, replied Nardul, his face as dry as rock. ‘Forgive us for when we disobeyed you’, continued Ulvian. Valdonyr and Nardul nodded. ‘Then listen to me for one last time’, he insisted, finally managing to smile a little. ‘I’m dying. Love your mother and take care of her. Do not go seeking revenge in Faningor, for even if you ever have it, it will give you no peace. The only way to peace is love. Let Faningor die in its own wrath and evil. Love instead’. He stopped to cough and inhale. ‘Love your mother. Then find a stunning and caring wife each if you wish, and love her as much as you can’. He stopped abruptly, fighting for breath, yet he kept his eyes on his children. It seemed he was finding it harder to keep his eyes open and speaking was causing him a great effort. ‘Now leave us, I need to have a word with your mother’, he continued, winking. So the three boys crept out of the tent like lost souls who aren’t sure whether they want to be found or to be left wandering in the dark. They didn’t say a word but their eyes were fixed on each other’s. Suddenly something very odd happened very fast. So fast, in fact, that it hardly seemed real. For an instant it seemed that each glimpsed in the other’s eyes exactly what the other was thinking and feeling; as though it were written so clearly in the other one’s iris that it needed no great efforts to read. They blinked in surprise and when they opened their eyes it was already gone. Valdonyr raised his right hand to his forehead in disbelief, and he was shocked to notice that Nardul and Ulvian had just done the same. ‘Did you feel that too?’ they asked spontaneously and at the same time. They didn’t utter another word, for the weird way in which this was happening was already an answer. They simply moved their heads away in fear of experiencing it again. But the moment Valdonyr shot a glance at Nardul and Nardul at Ulvian and Ulvian at Valdonyr, it happened again! Each saw dread, sorrow, anger and other unnamed emotions in the other’s eyes as vivid and vibrant as though he were feeling them himself. Then it vanished as soon as each lowered his eyes in fear and in alarm. So they kept their eyes on their feet for a long time, hoping that the next time they raised their eyes it wouldn’t happen again. But they didn’t find the courage to try, for the sensation had been something very horrifying and they guessed what might have happened though they weren’t yet certain.   Part 6 Their mother appeared a while later, avoiding their eyes and calling for one of the healers who had been waiting outside. The boys and their mother followed him inside. ‘He’s passed away’, said the healer gravely, forcing himself to look at their faces. ‘Dead’, said Valdonyr, surprising also his brothers. ‘The word is dead’. The healer nodded and stole out of the tent. Nileya fell to her kneels at her dead husband’s side, leaning her head on his still chest and weeping like a child. Nardul, Valdonyr and Ulvian moved close to her and waited patiently while she let out her sorrow in tears which never seemed to run out. And so it was that Rulban Erimdhal – as was his family name – died and was buried the next day in Rilyad Forest – a rare privilege given by the wood elves; for no other mortal had ever been buried in the woodland realm before, and no other has ever been. And on his tombstone was written ‘Rulban Atriul’, for Atriul means the man who found elven love, and so was the surname the wood elves found most fit to bestow upon the only human who ever sat foot in Rilyad."   Interesting? Purchase the Book! Help to Author with his writings!