Redbird Falls Off

[The tenth part of the Tale of Redbird (I think). For the other parts, please click the link on the right and scroll down]

            The small company rode swiftly for the first few hours of their journey and Redbird had little to do but endeavour to remain seated on her horse. The chestnut mare that was her mount followed the princes without hesitation, requiring little direction from her. It was only when they had travelled a great distance from Faelen that the pace began to slow, and Redbird took the opportunity to converse with her new companions.

          After a little coaxing, her horse, which seemed to regard her with the same indifferent hostility as the princes, was persuaded to pick up speed and canter beside Nirulin's.

          “Excuse me,” said Redbird, when she managed to catch up to the elf prince's white war stallion, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I felt I must ask- where are we going?”

         

          Nirulin seemed to be about to answer her when Eohin spoke from a few yards in front without bothering to turn and address Redbird.

          “My brother and I have decided that the best place to begin our search will be the coastlands of Nor," he said, in a voice that seemed to suggest that Redbird should have known this already. "We plan to take the path through the plains of Nuria to reach there.”

          Vaguely remembering these names from the maps Ariel had made her study, Redbird nodded intelligently. The princes’ horses pulled ahead of her again and Redbird wondered whether the rest of the journey would be conducted in the absolute silence that lay on them now like a thick blanket. Estwyn seemed a positively garrulous companion in comparison to the princes.

          “It’s a good thing the weather’s fine,” she said, hopefully.

          Eohin cast her a look of scorn and spurred his horse into a trot again and, with a half glance in her direction, Nirulin did the same. Redbird’s horse followed after them quickly and there was no further chance of tete-a-tete for a while.

          They rode the whole day through the thick forests that surrounded Faelen. Redbird caught occasional glimpses of silver-throated birds soaring from the trees as they approached and the rare sight of a fleeing deer once in a while, but besides these occasional disturbances their journey was peaceful. They broke camp when the sun was setting to sleep and eat.

          Eohin was about to unpack the food they had brought with them from Faelen when Redbird stopped him.

          “There’s no need to begin using up our supplies on the first day, Your Majesty,” she said. “We’re in a forest full of good food, and we can save the elf-fare for when wild potatoes and fresh meat are harder to come by.”

          “There is some sense in that, Talya Winona, daughter of Eleanor,” said Eohin coldly. “But I do not know what these wild potatoes are.”

          Despite, or perhaps because of, the dignity with which he made this speech, Redbird had to choke back a laugh.

          “Don’t know what a wild potato is!” she said in astonishment. “In that case, Your Majesty, its best that I hunt them myself, for they can be quite ferocious.”

          “I can hunt anything you can, mortal,” said Eohin, twice as haughtily. “Merely tell me what it is I am to look for.”

          “No one’s questioning your courage, Your Majesty,” said Redbird kindly, studying the ground around them carefully. “It’s just that they’re tricky things, wild potatoes, very hard to handle if you don’t know the right way to go about it.”

          With a cry of delight she sprang at a patch of earth a few feet away from them.

          “What is it?” asked Eohin sharply, forgetting to sound disdainful for a moment. “Have you found their tracks?”

          “Better,” she said, pulling up a handful of tubers and showing them to Eohin triumphantly. “These are potatoes, Your Highness.”

          Redbird soon had the princes hard at work, finding firewood and helping her locate more wild vegetables and herbs. However neither of them forgot that she was a mere human throughout the entire process, and Eohin in particular called her ‘Talya Winona, daughter of Eleanor’ at the drop of a hat till she was ready to scream.

          “Look,” she said finally, with feeling. “My name is not Talya. It’s Redbird. And I don’t mean any disrespect to Your Majesties but it would make things a lot simpler if I could just call you by your names and you could call me by mine.”

           “That is far too intimate!” said Eohin, in accents of horror.

          Nirulin did not seem as affected as his brother. He shrugged and said, in his soft, pleasant voice, “As you wish, Redbird.”

          By the time evening had fallen, Redbird had a thick, hot stew on the fire, bubbling merrily. The savoury smells emanating from the pot had long before attracted Nirulin’s attention but Eohin expressed his silent disapproval to the last. He took a bowl with the air of one resigned to his fate, drank it down without a word, and stumped off to go to sleep. However, his brother seemed to enjoy it, and even asked for seconds.

          The two ate in companionable silence for a while. Then, good nights were said and they each went their separate ways to sleep, laid out at various distances from the fire. All things considered, thought Redbird drowsily, it had been a better first day than she had expected.

          They set off again at dawn the next morning, Redbird half awake and practically falling asleep in the saddle. The only thing that made her hang on to Rahkel’s reins with grim determination despite her drowsiness was her suspicion that if she did fall off her horse in a stupor, Eohin would not make the least attempt to wake her.

          They had left the immediate vicinity of Faelen by this time, and the quality of the land was deteriorating as they went. The lush, rich forests were behind them and they encountered a bleak outcrop of rock, where very little grew. The sun rose, and the stone below them turned its beams into a thousand sparkling diamonds.

          What trees there were in the area were bare and dying. Redbird was moved by the beauty of the picture presented to her- the trio stood still in a shared moment of reverence before they set off again, at a slow walk now because the slippery landscape would permit nothing faster.

          Gazing at the barren landscape, Redbird remembered a growing song her father had taught her. It was one of the songs of the desert where her father had been born, and she had a sudden urge to sing it.

          As Rahkel plodded along quietly, she sang softly to the earth below her feet, willing the seeds entombed in it to wake from their slumber. It was a children’s song she sang, a lullaby, but the tune was ancient, and the music was beautiful.

          Nirulin looked at her in delight when she had finished, and even Eohin looked less scornful.

          “That was beautiful,” he said, “What is that language?”

          “It is the language of the wandering tribes of the desert,” she said, embarrassed, “I don’t know what it means- I only know the words.”

        Nirulin smiled. “I think your heart knows what it means,” he said, “Or you could not have sung it so well.”

          Then he sang the song she had just sung, but in Elvish, and, after a while, she joined him. Nirulin had the purest voice she had ever had the privilege to listen to- even the birds in the trees fell silent to hear him.

           A great white tree covered in tightly furled buds stood a few yards away from where they were riding and as Nirulin’s last note rang through the air and died away, the thousands of buds that hung from the branches of the tree spread their petals like torches bursting into flame.

          Eohin and Nirulin reined in their horses with exclamations of wonder, and Redbird could do nothing but stare speechlessly at the newly blossomed tree, as it extended its bloom-laden branches joyfully to the sky.

           “Look! The trees have heard you!”cried Nirulin, in delight and amazement.

          The sun shone clear on Nirulin’s white brow at that moment and he appeared tall and fair in its light. Beholding this prince to whom the very trees felt compelled to hearken, Redbird felt that she looked upon the future bearer of the star crown. Perhaps Eohin felt the same, for he instantly ordered them to keep moving, in a voice as harsh as an elf’s could be.

          “Let us continue to the east. We have wasted enough time this morning,” he said sharply, and his horse leapt forward. Nirulin followed, with the obedience he seemed to bestow on his twin as a matter of course, and Rahkel sped after them in pursuit, nearly managing to jerk Redbird off. Redbird was beginning to think that she did it on purpose.

          They journeyed in this manner for another three days, and, in all this time, Redbird contrived to escape eating elf-food through some excuse or another. Nirulin grew daily more accustomed to human fare, but Eohin’s distaste of it seemed only to increase with every meal. He never complained, but his dour silences spoke volumes of his displeasure.

          Nirulin was a far more pleasant companion and soon Redbird regarded him as a friend. Their laughter echoed through the woods and plains they traveled through, turning to seriousness only when Eohin turned his forbidding stare upon them, and breaking forth again when he looked away.

          The first time Redbird saw Eohin smile was when they crossed the borders of the elven territory into the neighbouring kingdom of Derth, a farming land ruled by the Peasant-King Hamish. From then on, although he was never as light-hearted as his twin, he grew less serious and even began to talk to Redbird a little. It was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

          They were riding through golden fields standing high in corn one evening, when Eohin motioned to them suddenly to stop. On the ground was a deathly stillness and flocks of crows drifted across the sky like storm clouds, following the path of the dying sun.

          “Brother,” he said to Nirulin. “What do you hear?”

          “The crying of wolves,” came the answer, “And men- men shouting and killing.”

          “There are rogues in these parts,” muttered Eohin. “Turn the horses round! Go into the woods!”

          “The men are in the woods, Eohin!” said Nirulin.

          “It does not matter,” said Eohin, “No steed ridden by man can outrun elvish horses in the forests. If we come upon them, do not stop, but ride like the wind.”

          There was no time to question his decision, for he let his hands drop even as he finished speaking and his charger sprang forward in the direction of the dark forests that surrounded the fields. Rakhel, who in Redbird’s opinion was quite smitten with Eohin, gave chase immediately and Nirulin was forced to follow.

          They flew like arrows through the trees, like ghosts they sped through the forest. The falling hooves of the elvish horses sounded like the summer rain, and the faces of the princes were so terrible in their beauty that Redbird pitied the wolf-hunters, should they chance upon them.

          Their flight had not gone unnoticed- even Redbird’s human ears could hear shouting now, growing ever nearer, until a band of men burst out of a clearing of trees upon them, brandishing pitchforks and axes that were already dyed red with blood.

          “On! On!” cried Eohin, and the horses raced ahead at his command, with such fury that the men were forced to fall back before them. Redbird had no chance of holding onto Rakhel when she sprang forward like that and, with a cry that was lost in the sound of the chase, she fell off her horse and dropped to the ground. She hit her head on a tree-trunk, and lost consciousness immediately. 

        Her last thought before the darkness closed in was a hazy doubt as to whether Eohin and Nirulin would bother to turn back and rescue her or regard this as a merciful release.