Kingdoms of Caelum; Autumn of the War Queen

Chapter 31

The stallion was as fast and agile as he was powerful, she could feel his power as they sprinted together out of Fortis and down the mountain pass. She didn't feel tired, despite the hour: she felt alive. The footprints and cart marks of the Lunar Agora procession were easy to spot in the moonlight, they cut deep and heavy lines in the snow heading towards the port and then into the Pelyn Pass beyond. This is what she should have been doing since leaving Roskilde, she thought as the harsh frozen air stung at her face, this was freedom.

Bane awoke that morning to the shouts and yells of the traders around him, those who went to sell, and those who went to buy. He was never comfortable around large crowds but he had never missed the Lunar Agora, not since Zaphiya's death, he thought bitterly. It had been Zaphiya that had encouraged him to go, six years ago, when he had been the age of only nineteen years; since then it had always drawn him back. Perhaps it was the chance to be amongst the ghosts of the past, to immerse in self torture when he saw the flags of Roskilde, his abandoned Kingdom, and his estranged family; the father who did nothing.

Children with barking dogs at their heels ran screaming past, breaking the pitying thoughts. He rolled his thin canvas tent up and stuffed it into his satchel. It was certainly quieter travelling alone.

"ALL!" The yell came from the front of the convoy, and then many hundreds of yells followed, all repeating the word until they echoed to the very back of the line. Immediately, wagons began to roll slowly forwards: men, women and Dark Elves alike who had come on foot, clearing away tents and stamping out fires. The sound of whips and commands brought the mountain to life. Bane let a cart full of iron swords pass him as he stretched and looked around. Snow capped mountains as far as the eye could see engulfed the western track; The Pelyn Pass. For almost three weeks they would be stuck on this desolate manmade pathway that was as old as Caelum itself. Thousands of years worth of history bore into the pass: great crusades and armies had marched on it, battles had been won and lost in these valleys, though none as famous as the cull of the mages. History told of a horrific and gruesome blot on Caelum's past, an episode in time that people didn't want to remember or think about, and few dared to speak of. In the Great War, entire species were wiped out, and a once vibrant city on the coast of the Vale of Pelyn, the Land of the Mage, was destroyed. Now covered in a hundred foot of deep snow, great marble buildings reduced to nothing but a frozen graveyard, hidden and forgotten, just like the mystical people it used to house.

Bane groped the stubble on his chin and looked to the sky. It was a pleasant morning and the sun was rising behind the largest of three peaks; today they would make good ground, and perhaps later he could hunt. He shifted the battle axe on his back and went to join the rest of the moving procession.

"BANE OLAF?" Came the voice from far behind.

Bane stopped and turned. It was a call from a woman sat upon a stationary wagon. Curious, he set off weaving through the oncoming crowd towards her as she called his name again. When she saw the warrior approaching, she smiled. She was plump with red cheeks and a friendly face, sat holding the reigns of two dirty mules.

"Are you Bane Olaf?" she asked happily.

He nodded, sure he recognized her from the Fortis market.

"Some one seeks you!" she said, pointing behind her. Bane stood aside and raised his head across the people and wagons. At first he saw nothing but a blur of faces, dark and pale, elf and human. Then, as his eyes shifted to the very back, he saw her. Her red tunic resting upon a frozen pale face with flushed cheeks, unmistakable midnight hair as always tied in a long single plait and finished with red lace, the magnificent ivory bow resting gracefully over her back. She rode the black horse beautifully and, in the whiteness of the crisp snow, the two stood out like a rose amongst thorns. A confused shiver coursed over him, and he felt his pulse increase despite himself. He waited for the crowd to thin and for her to spot him.