Redbird and the Vallahan

[Rest is on the right under the label redbird! Enjoy.]

They rode that night as they had never ridden before, with a supernatural speed that turned the stars to silver blurs. Redbird was bumped up and down with a roughness that made her ache all over and turned her legs to two aching blisters. Their haste took them out of the borders of the farm-country by dawn and into the Simarin, a bleak and barren wilderness that Eohin said was no-man’s land – the transition between the woods of Derth and the sands of the Anduin desert.

          “We must be careful in our journey here,” he said, as they finally checked their wild flight. Both elven horses were panting from their exertions, their silken sides heaving as though they would break apart. Redbird could feel the exhaustion in Aquila’s limbs as well, although he seemed less fatigued by the long run than Nirulin and Eohin’s mounts.

Eohin pulled the hood of his cloak over his head so that his bright hair was obscured and gestured to the other two to do the same. “As I said, we must be careful. The Simarin has no king to keep it in order and wild things stalk these desert places.”

          Accordingly, they kept their weapons at hand in the day and made their fires smaller in the night. The traveling was harder through the Simarin, as the wilderness was called, few trees grew there to give them shade and the sun shone balefully on them on them in the daytime. The horses suffered and Aquila’s paws were soon as burnt and cracked as the stony earth beneath their feet.

          Redbird was worried about her wolf- she saw no living things in the Simarin that Aquila could eat and she wondered how they would feed him, but it appeared that Aquila could fend for himself. He began to leave her in the night and return in the morning with blood-stains on his silver coat and, provided he was not devouring stray wanderers for sustenance, Redbird was content with this arrangement. On some days she would ride with Nirulin to give Aquila a rest and on others the great wolf would run ahead of the company with Redbird on his back.

          They had been riding through the Simarin for a week when they met the Vallahan. Eohin used no map or compass for navigation and Redbird privately thought they were lost, despite his frequent claims that Anduin was near. The flat landscape around them looked the same in every direction the eye turned. When asked how he knew where they were going Eohin would reply that the stars and wind guided him and Redbird guessed from this answer that he had as little idea as she where they were.

          The sun was nearing the peak of its cycle on the seventh day when Redbird heard the sound of many hooves in the distance and looked up to see a band of riders approaching them from the east in a cloud of dust.

          Nirulin drew his sword immediately, and Redbird imitated him, but Eohin shouted to them to put their weapons away, with a broad smile on his face. He called out some lines in Elvish to his brother and Nirulin laughed - a merry sound Redbird had not heard in a while – laughing seemed an unjustifiable bother in the desert heat- and sheathed his sword.

          “What is it?” asked Redbird, “Who is coming?”

          “We have chanced upon the Vallahan,” said Nirulin, still smiling, “The free elves that name no land home and roam the earth as the wind leads them. This is fortunate indeed.”

          Redbird recalled what Nirulin had told her about Eohin loving a child of the wandering elves, and wondered with indignation whether he had led them all the way through the burning desert merely for the purpose of encountering the woman of his fancy.There was no time to ask, however, because by then the riders were upon them.

          Nirulin and Eohin’s steeds seemed fairy-horses beside the proud stallions of the strangers. The horses of the Vallahan roused a veritable sand-storm as they moved over the burning dunes. They were shaggy, broad-chested animals with black manes that flew in the desert wind and fiery, rolling eyes. The elves upon these tempestuous creatures were as fair and tall as their brothers from the north, and they too were cloaked and hooded to protect themselves from the burning sun.

          Eohin and Nirulin raised their arms and shouted in greeting, and it was evident that the elf-host recognized them for many arms were raised in return.

          “Hail Eohin and Nirulin, twin-children of Elessari!” cried a myriad of strong voices, “Hail, O riders of Faelen!”

          “Hail!” replied Nirulin and Eohin, and they came at last to a stop.

          “Where do you wander, fair princes?” called a sweet, low voice from the group of riders and Eohin replied, “To the south, to the hill-lands of the Gorgons and then further, to the coastlands of Nod.”

          “We are going that way,” said the voice, “You may ride with us for a time, if you choose, and your companion, the kime-moren.”

          “What did they call me?” muttered Redbird to Nirulin.

          “Wolf-rider,” he replied softly, aloud he said, “We will gladly ride with the Vallahan.”

          “Then come!” cried many voices, and the horses of the Vallahan leapt forward without signal or warning. The company of Faelen followed, and they rode for many hours without a stop. When the afternoon turned to evening and darkness fell, they halted their journey and stopped to rest.

          The host of the Vallahan regarded the party of Faelen in silence for a time and Redbird squirmed under the scrutiny of many watchful eyes. Nirulin and Eohin dismounted, and she did so as well, albeit with less elegance. Although Aquila obligingly stooped for her, she was still a good three feet above the ground when he was on his knees, and her method was to slide as gracefully down his side as she possibly could, landing sometimes on her feet and sometimes in less dignified positions.

          She picked herself off the ground, dusting herself off with as much solemnity as she could summon under the circumstances. Nirulin and Eohin had sunk into low bows, with their hands over their chests, and she quickly did the same.

          “Free people of the Vallahan,” said Eohin, in his most pleasant tones, “I greet you in the name of Faelen, and of the Lady Ariel.

          The tallest elf present, mounted upon a charger who stood pawing the ground at the head of the company, dismounted also. He was the largest elf, and indeed man, Redbird had ever seen, with red feathers woven through his flowing copper hair, and shoulders which would have shamed Hedwin himself, had he been present to see them. A gigantic, unsheathed sword of dull grey steel, quite unlike the pretty, elegant foils Redbird had seen among the mountain elves, swung from his belt; this he drew and presented to Nirulin and Eohin.

          “My sword, and the strength of my hand,” he said, in a voice that sounded as Redbird would imagine a talking bear to sound, “These I offer to the heirs of Orthor, true King of the Alviyen and bearer of the Star-Crown. Share the hospitality of our tents this night, my princes, and rest from your travels.”

          “We are honoured,” replied the princes, murmuring some lines in Elvish after this which Redbird did not understand, although they sounded like more pleasantries of the same kind.

          The gigantic elf turned to her next and she bowed nervously.

          “Here is a face that I do not recognize,” rumbled the leader of the Vallahan, “Who are you, human, who ride upon a moon-wolf and keep company with the Fair Folk?”

          “My name is Redbird, your, er, eminence” said Redbird, “I am known to the people of  Faelen as Tayla Winona. I am a friend of Lady Ariel and accompany the princes on their quest for the Shaisya.”

          “Indeed,” said the elf, not showing by so much as a twitch of his thick, red brows that he was surprised. “Well, well. Talya, the robin, is a little bird, but it flies high and is welcome everywhere as a messenger of spring. We, welcome you, Talya Winona, to the company of the Free Elves.”

          “Thank you, sir,” said Redbird politely, executing another bow. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

          A low laugh rippled around the lines of the Vallahan and there was a sudden flurry of activity. Tents were produced and put up with amazing rapidity – they were large and sturdy-looking, but with a certain rough charm, in bright colours of scarlet and silver and purple. The eerie silence that had hung over the group was gone, Redbird heard shouts, laughter and singing, and somewhere the merry piping of an elven flute.  

          Eohin and Morgen, as it transpired the large elf was called, had put their heads together and were talking together seriously in Elvish. Nirulin stayed beside Redbird, a solicitude for which she was glad.

          Gazing around the camp for the purposes of observation, Redbird estimated that there were around thirty Vallahan in total. All the elves she saw looked alike, tall and fair, with bright, wild hair and strange violet eyes. They moved restlessly with quick, fluid movements from place to place; carrying things, talking, strumming instruments and laughing. Belatedly, Redbird realized that she did not know which of them was Eohin’s beloved. She would have to be no common elf, thought Redbird, to have attracted the attention of the haughty prince.

          “Which of these is Eohin’s lady?” she asked softly, turning to Nirulin. The elf-prince had been walking beside her in silence as she looked around the camp.

          “Lift your eyes,” said Nirulin, “She is the lady speaking to Eohin at this moment. She stands directly before you.”

          Redbird looked ahead and saw, a few feet away from her, a tall elf woman standing beside Eohin and speaking to him, the top of her head nearly on a level with his. As though she had heard the question and felt their scrutiny, the woman turned towards them and smiled.

          Redbird thought that she had never beheld a more radiant countenance in her life, and she had seen many elves in Faelen, even the Lady of the Mountain herself. The elf, as she had seen, was tall, almost as tall as Eohin, and slender as an arrow. Her long shining hair was straight and fell down her back like a curtain of silken threads all the way to her slim waist, and it gleamed with the colour of a clear sky at dawn. Her beautiful features had none of the proud strength that Redbird had noticed in Nirulin, Eohin or Ariel, instead there was a softness about every charming line.

          Then, as she continued to look upon the elf, she realized with a shock that the woman was blind. She had the same eerie violet eyes as the rest of her kin, but they stared unseeingly into the distance, and there was something unendurably moving in their unfocused gaze.

          The woman murmured a question to Eohin and he answered, moving her hand gently so that the relaxed fingers pointed in their direction. She beckoned and Redbird and Nirulin stepped forward to meet her. She asked a soft question in Elvish, touching Eohin’s sleeve, as they approached.

          “The lady wishes to be known to you, Redbird,” said Eohin, undertaking the role of translator.

          “I am Alyssa, daughter of Morgen,” said the elf, in the common tongue and Redbird started. It was strange to imagine that this delicate creature was of the same stock as the gigantic elf. “May I touch your face, Talya?”

          “Of course,” said Redbird and, taking the hands of the elvish woman, she guided them to her cheeks.

          Long fingers skimmed over Redbird’s features and their touch was as gentle as softly falling leaves. Alyssa traced the contours of Redbird’s face with her hands, and then rested them for a moment on the crown of her head. Redbird drew in a sharp breath- for some reason the elf’s touch was warm and familiar, although she had never set eyes on Alyssa before. Alyssa’s lips curved into a smile.

          “My spirit is glad that we have met,” she said, “May the stars guide you in your wanderings, Talya.”

          Alyssa spoke a few words of greeting to Nirulin next and then she led them to a large fire in the centre of the camp where the Vallahan had arranged a great feast. They were bidden to sit on thick rugs woven with fantastic designs and plates heaped with food were placed before them. Aquila, who had been exploring, joined Redbird at this point and lay quietly beside her, his pale blue eyes flickering backward and forward over the scene that lay before them.

Almost all the Vallahan were seated on rugs around a single blazing fire. Although Redbird had initially supposed them only superficially different from the hill-elves of Faelen, she realized on closer observation that they were far wilder and stranger than their kin under the mountain. Some had feathers woven into their hair;others wore wreaths of flowers and wild berries. The firelight played over their uncanny violet eyes and made their features and long figures seem less human than the light of day. They were beautiful but not regal, as the elves of Faelen were; there was something untamed and feral about them.

Redbird was given the privilege of sitting at Alyssa’s side by the fire, on the elvish woman’s right sat the King of the Vallahan, Morgen, and beside him sat the princes.

          After the food, just as bland and distasteful to Redbird as regular elvish fare,the revels began. A handful of something was thrown into the leaping flames by a laughing elf, and they soared up into the sky, dyed purple, blue and pink by some sorcery, and emitting a fragrant odour of spices. Instruments were produced- flutes of sweet and pensive tones and stringed instruments that wailed and mourned hauntingly. Songs were sung and stories were told, and all throughout, the elven wine that lightened the heart and lifted the spirit flowed freely.

          It was a night of music and laughter, with all the reckless freedom of a dream. Soon the Vallahan grew tired of reclining on their rugs and they rose up and began to dance. Eohin, with Alyssa in his arms, was in the centre of the group, Morgen led a stately elf wearing a cloak of scarlet and indigo and Nirulin had long since been captured by one of the Vallahan women, a sprite with laughing purple eyes.

          Redbird, well aware that her grace would compare unfavourably withthat of the elves’, stayed firmly seated until Nirulin found her and pulled her to her feet, ignoring her protests.

          “I don’t know how to dance!” she said.

          “Then this is the time to learn,” said Nirulin, lifting her straight off her feet in an energetic turn.

          Soon, she forgot everything but the sound of the music and, together with the Vallahan, she danced until the stars hid their fires and the first pale beams of dawn were touching the horizon.

          It was only when she was swaying nearly half-asleep on her feet, desperate for nothing more than the hospitality of the tents that she had been promised earlier so that she could go to sleep, that she discovered, to her extreme indignation, that the Vallahan had no intentions of going to bed like civilized beings after their night of excess, but intended to resume their journey as the sun rose.

          It had never before been borne in to her so undeniably that her companions were a species entirely different from humans than when she saw, through eyes puffy with exhaustion, the elves demolishing the camp with demonic energy, erasing all indications of the night’s revels from the campsite and finally sitting placidly in their saddles, waiting for the first light, even as she reeled drunkenly in her saddle, slipping into unconsciousness every few minutes.

          As the day-star rose slowly in the east, Morgen signalled, and the lines of the Vallahan resumed their journey in absolute silence. Soon, despite the speed with which they were travelling, Redbird lay slumped across Aquila’s back in deep slumber, and she slept dreamlessly till noon.

          She was woken from this oblivious stupor by the tingling of a sixth sense that warned her of coming danger. A moment after she had opened her eyes and begun looking around her, a cry arose from the elves at the head of the company.

          “Strigai!” came the warning. “The horses of Shaitul and their riders!”

          The words meant nothing to Redbird but from the expressions of the elves around her, she guessed that they contained something dreadful. Her eyes and ears were not strong enough to see the distant danger her companions clearly perceived and she could take no part in the confused shouting that broke out immediately.

          Nirulin’s voice was heard above the frenzy, “We cannot hope to outrun them! Our only chance is to stand and fight!”

          An order was called out in Elvish and the elves came to a standstill. Aquila skidded to a stop, a few seconds late, and then she made out Morgen’s voice, but as he spoke in Elvish, she had no idea what he was telling them to do.

          At his instruction, the elves quickly formed two concentric semi-circles, facing the west. The male elves and some of the females formed the outer arc, while Redbird, Alyssa and a few others made up the smaller inner ring. Swords were unsheathed and arrows were pulled from quivers and fitted to bows. In ominous silence they waited.

          Soon, there was a great noise from the west- a sound of hooves, of shouting and the blowing of horns. A black line appeared on the horizon and then even Redbird’s human eyes could clearly see the danger.

          An army of creatures was advancing on them, riding horses as black as the night and as grim as death. Redbird saw that there were no fewer than a hundred and fifty of these foul beings, at the very least, and as they drew closer, her blood ran cold at the appearance of the monsters.

          The Strigai were enormous in size, as tall as the elves and many times broader. The portions of their skin uncovered by armour were so caked in filth that Redbird could not make out their colouring; later she would find out that their skin was a festering grey. They carried battle-axes, maces and all manner of weapons upon which the blood of their previous enemies was plainly marked. This was not a foe that could be reasoned with. It was clear that they would lay down their arms only when the Simarin was drenched in the blood of the Vallahan and no sooner.

          As the Strigai approached the elves bent their bows and sent forth a volley of arrows.However, the monsters instantly raised a row of blackened shields, bearing a dark, contorted device, and the first attack was easily repulsed. Then it was the Strigai’s turn. A row of nail-studded crossbows appeared and then a veritable storm of black barbed arrows was raining down on them. The elves seemed very little troubled by these- and Redbird soon found the reason why.

          The woman Morgen had been dancing with the previous night stood in the inner circle with her arms raised to the heavens, muttering an incantation. The result of her craft was soon evident- any arrow that came within a certain distance of the elves turned aside to bury itself harmlessly in the sand.

          By this time the Strigai were close enough for Redbird to count the number of scars crossing their grim faces, had she been so inclined. Uttering fearful shouts, they bore down upon the elves and with war cries of their own the Vallahan rode forward to meet them.

          The elves’ formation was soon scattered- the front line tried to hold together but the Strigai fell upon them like waves battering a shore. In a few minutes Redbird found herself alone beside Alyssa, and still the enemies came.

          “Don’t worry!” she called to Alyssa, trying to sound more confident than she felt, “I will protect you.”

          “Stay close by my side,” was the elf’s reply, notching an arrow to her bow as she spoke. A Strigai ran towards them brandishing a sword, and then he fell forward dead, Alyssa’s arrow protruding between his eyes.

          Redbird soon found that despite her bold claim, she was the one being protected by the blind elf. As each enemy approached them, Alyssa’s bow spoke, and nearly every arrow she essayed was death for another Strigai. Redbird had drawn her own bow and was firing as well, but with less success. Either she missed or her arrows did not have the power to do any damage.

          A shout resounded over the battlefield and Redbird recognized Eohin’s voice. He was calling desperately for Alyssa and her answer was just as urgent, for her quiver was emptying quickly.

          In a few moments, Eohin and Nirulin had reached them and together the three elves set upon the remaining Strigai, Alyssa with her longbow and Nirulin and Eohin dealing out death and destruction with their swords that rose and fell like twin meteors on the necks of their enemies. There seemed to be no end to the foes, and as each fell another rose up to take his place. Redbird was primarily occupied with trying to stay alive- although the Strigai fell before her companions like dead leaves fleeing the west wind, she was less successful in her killing.

          It seemed as though they were gaining the upper hand when suddenly Nirulin fell from his saddle with a cry, and Redbird saw that he had received a grievous wound in his shoulder. At the same moment, two of the Strigai managed to reach Alyssa’s horse. They stabbed the animal, broke her bow with a single thrust, and, throwing her over their shoulders, carried her away, screaming, away from the direction of the battle. Two of their companions remained and Eohin glanced from side to side in desperation.

          Redbird saw him and guessed the reason for his indecision. She drew her sword with a ring of steel and said, “Go after Alyssa! I will protect Nirulin!”

Still Eohin hesitated and Redbird spoke again, wondering if she was doing the right thing.

 “You can trust me!I will allow no harm to come to your brother. Go quickly, we do not know what they intend to do with her.”

          The many hideous possibilities inspired by Redbird’s statement seemed to decide Eohin; he nodded to Redbird and rode desperately in the direction the Strigai had taken.

          Aquila shrugged her off quickly from his back as Eohin left and she guessed what he meant to do. He sprang at the first of the Strigai, taking him by surprise, with a ferocious howl, and Redbird turned with a pounding heart to face the second.

          Her foe was the ugliest Strigai she had yet seen and also the biggest. From the fact that his armour was of a better quality than that of his companions and by the scarlet feather that hung from his helm, Redbird guessed that he was a leader of some sort.

          “Human,” said the monster, in a guttural rumble. “Where is the shining crown?”

          “Huh?” was Redbird’s intelligent response, “What do you mean?”

          “Our master tells us that you have the shining crown,” said the Strigai, “Tell me where it is and I shall not kill you- painfully.”

          “I don’t have any crown,” said Redbird, in patent astonishment.

          “You have decided your own fate,” growled the monster and he raised his battle axe and sprinted at her, bellowing a challenge.

          Just as naturally as though she had been preparing for such a moment all her life, Redbird dropped her sword, reached for her daggers and sent Swift into the monster’s open mouth without stopping to think. Then, as he jerked his head back and roared in pain, she sent Sharp into his neck.

          The black daggers flew straight and true, and then her foe was lying at her feet in the dust. Redbird’s knees felt suddenly weak and she slumped to the ground as well. She had let down her guard too soon- the Strigai raised its arm as she bent over him and struck her a blow on the head with the shaft of his axe. She dodged it, but the the axe glanced by the side of her head as the Strigai’s arm fell back to the ground, and she felt a splitting pain near her right temple.

          The Strigai’s last gesture was his undoing- in the effort of striking Redbird he had dislodged Sharp from his neck. A crimson fountain sprung from the hole the dagger left and he bled to death before he could move again.

          Redbird picked Sharp up from where it lay in a pool of her enemy’s blood and then turned to see how her friend was faring. Aquila had overcome his enemy- as she looked on, the Strigai toppled over onto his back and the moon-wolf, with a howl of triumph, lunged forward and ripped out the creature’s throat.

          Sickened by the sight, and even more sickened by the thought that she would shortly have to pull Swift from the place where it was lodged in the monster’s head, Redbird rose to her feet. Steeling her nerves, she reached into the Strigai’s still open mouth, felt the hilt of her dagger, and yanked it out.

          It came free with the sharp, wet noise of a blade cutting cleanly through flesh and the sound was too much for Redbird’s self-control. She managed to stagger a few feet away from the Strigai’s corpse and then she vomited noisily. After the nausea faded, she rose, wiped her mouth, and went to the place where Nirulin had fallen.

          Aquila came forward to support her as she did so. His muzzle and flanks were dyed with blood, whether it was his own or the monster’s Redbird was in no condition to judge. Redbird banished the picture of her yukikime killing the Strigai from her mind and patted his head.

          “You are a true friend, Aquila” she said.

          Nirulin stirred at her feet as she spoke these words and she knew, with a glad leap of the heart, that he lived still. There was a curious ringing sound in her ears and her vision was growing dim. With a small sigh, she fell to her knees in the dirt and then all went dark around her.