Adventures in Shadow


"Lunchtime. Definitely Lunchtime," Gustav decided. It was totally arbitrary. It was dark where he stood in what he guess was a chasm deep beneath the earth. There may have been a sun in the sky somewhere above him. There may even have been a sky for the sun to be in. From where Gustav stood there was no way to tell. No light. No sound. No smells. Not a breath of air moving. Even the ground underfoot was flat and untextured. It was as close to sensory deprivation as he could get and still be mobile.

For three days now Gustav had been at this, trying to find a way to a place cut off from the worlds he normally walked. Three days of subtracting those elements of the physical world which provided the clues he normally depended on as signposts marking the paths between the worlds that only his kin could follow. Now he was ready to admit defeat. He could remove the distractions which would keep leading him back to his normal worlds, but he lacked the sensitivity to find that subcurrent of reality which would lead him to where he sought to go between the worlds.

Gustav turned and began the long walk back to sunlit lands full of colors, sounds, and smells. The direction was as arbitrary as the time. Such was the nature of power to walk between the worlds.

A hint of dampness in the air. The gritty feel of sand underfoot. The sound of an iron bound staff striking rock. Gravel underfoot. The sound of pouring water ahead. A glimmer of light. Blinking against the brilliant noonday sun, Gustav stepped from behind a waterfall into a glorious autumn day.

A quick look around confirmed the total absence of anything resembling lunch. "Not much further," he decided. A short ways ahead the stream turned to parallel a road, and not quite half a mile down the road Gustav saw a picturesque roadside inn. A brightly painted sign in front depicted a white hart rampant on a field of green; not terribly different from the unicorn device of Amber. "Curious," he muttered to himself as he set forth. Halfway there, a new impediment to a pleasant lunch appeared in the form of two riders bearing down on him, lances leveled.

* * * * *

Luralee was looking forward to a chance to eat at the renowned 'White Hart' inn. She had ridden past it often in the past as a dispatch rider for the great Northern Army, but never had the time to stop. Now, her recent promotion and current posting gave her the luxury of taking the time for a civilized meal. At least that was the plan. Berath's alarmed cry as they rounded the final bend changed that in an instant. A half mile down the road was a man, armed, bearing a sword. Earlier than expected, the ancient enemy had returned. Ordering Arabel to ride at once to spread the alarm, Luralee and Berath leveled their spears and charged.

* * * * *

A quick glance about confirmed the worst. To one side rose a rocky slope; climbable but not quickly enough. The oncoming riders bore bows and a quiver of arrows to supplement their spears. To the other side was a flower swathed springtime alpine meadow; picturesque but lacking in the cover needed to begin shifting through shadow to avoid pursuit. Gustav was going to have to fight. What made him worse was the nature of the opposition. Women he had faced in battle before, but these were riding unicorns. Fleetingly he wondered if they might be relatives.

Gustav dashed for the streambed, picking up a pair of water smoothed fist sided rocks. Timing was critical. He needed to knock the riders from the saddle close enough that the momentum of the mounts would carry them past him should they be trained to stop and protect a fallen rider. He also needed to leave himself enough time to ready his staff to defend himself should they be trained to carry through the attack on their own.

Wait. Wait. Observation: they seem to be racing to see who gets to them first. Unless he's caught between them the body of one will block him from the other. Throw! Throw!. Dart to the side. Staff up and out to block the stab of the horn. Whip bottom end of staff forward to catch rear leg as it rushes by. Snap! Sprint to closest rider. Head at awkward angle. Neck maybe broken from fall. Sounds from behind; unicorn returning. Sprint to second rider then pivot to face threat.

* * * * *

Pain! That was Luralee's first conscious thought. Voices was her second. "Easy, girl. Quiet down now. I'm not going to hurt her." One voice anyway; male, foreign accent. She opened her eyes and winced at the sudden stab of pain it brought her. The figure standing above her glanced down at her then returned his attention to Edsal, her steed. The voice came again, apparently directed to her this time. "Take it easy there. You've got a nasty bump on your head, and you might have broken your arm in the fall. I'll be glad to take a look at it if you'll tell your friend here to back off."

Luralee turned her head. Edsal was slowly circling the stranger, trying to chase him away, trying to protect her. "He's trying to protect me. Where's Berath?"

"Is Berath your companion? Sorry, but she doesn't look good. She may have snapped her neck when she fell. I haven't had a chance to see for sure."

With a great deal of agony, Luralee propped herself up to get a look over at Berath. Torino stood over her, one leg dangling oddly. She could read the pain in his face. Berath was dead. "And your plans for me?" she asked with trepidation. Everyone knew the horror stories of what befell a unicorn warrior captured by the enemy.

"Bandage you and ask why you seemed so intent on doing me bodily harm."

This was not the answer she had expected, but then the enemy was known to lie. "All right," she said, "but be warned; Edsal won't hesitate to kill you should you try to further harm me."

* * * * *

Gustav sopped up the last of his venison stew with a chunk of dark bread. His instincts had been right about the quality of the food served here. "So let me get this straight. None of your men take up arms, either here or back in your homeland?"

Luralee picked at her barely touched stew. The ease with which this... man... had taken out two trained warriors, the death of Berath and injury of Torino, the cloakpin he wore depicting a unicorn of all things; all this both stole her appetite and left her very confused. "No. A civilized society protects it's weaker citizens from such horrors. Men have no place on the battlefield."

"But your ancient enemy, the Morath, have an army that consists entirely of men."

"They're barbarians. They have no concept of, nor appreciation for, civilization. They corrupt and destroy everything they touch."

"But from what you've told me, they're as likely as you to win whenever one of your big wars comes up."

"Sheer luck. Plus they're deceitful. They take advantage of an opponent who fights with honor, using it against them. They're lazy, filthy vermin. They attack from ambush. They sneak into your camp in the middle of the night and slit your throats while you're sleeping. They kidnap women from their homes and use them vilely. They..."

"That's enough. I get the picture." Gustav told her with a sigh. He could imagine her starting to froth at the mouth if he let her go on much longer. Whoever was in charge here obviously had their people well conditioned. "And you expect them to be returning sometime in the next ten years or so?"

"Of course. It's been forty years since the last war. Every fifty years, more or less, war sweeps across the Midlands. It's inevitable; a force of nature which can't be stopped."

Gustav considered this for a moment. In fifty years almost everyone who had fought or lived through the previous war would be dead. Raised in a culture which glorified honorable warfare, needing to justify their own existence, and with no firsthand experience of the pain and suffering war brought with it, this young woman and her warrior sisters would be eager to begin the bloodshed it would take them another fifty years to forget.

The sound of maybe a dozen riders outside forestalled further conversation. "That must be Arabel," Luralee said. "She got back quick. Must have run into a patrol. Torino's outside. They'll know what happened to Berath. I don't think they're going to be too happy with you, and holding me hostage won't slow them down in the slightest. Your best bet is to surrender now. Cooperate and they'll make sure you get a quick death, after answering their questions."

"If it's all the same to you," Gustav answered as he moved quickly towards the kitchen door in the back of the inn, "I think I'll just be leaving."

"You can run, but you can't hide!" Luralee shouted after him as he disappeared through the back moments before her spear sisters burst through the front door. "He ran out the back," she called to them as they raced past her in pursuit of the stranger.

For hours the search went on. Kitchen, storerooms, cellar, stable, all to no avail. They combed the nearby woods and fields. No sign of him, or any hint of his passage. For weeks every warrior in the region was alert for any sign of scouts or patrols of the enemy. Nothing. Finally, Luralee began to question her conviction that the stranger had been an enemy at all and wonder who he might have been.


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