| |
“On the journey you will face many enemies. They come in different guises. But there is one foe that you will carry with you wherever you go, whoever you fight. Before you face your enemy in battle, you must face fear.”
––––––––
OFTEN WHEN LUAN WOKE he could remember his dreams, sharply defined images of battle and conflict, groups of riders or spearman starkly illuminated as if by lightening flash. These he had become accustomed to since he was a child. But sometimes he would wake knowing that he had been dreaming but with no recollection, just a strong feeling of disconnection that would stay with him all day.
Waking on the banks of the stream, he had the same sort of feeling, coupled with an awareness that the world was somehow lessened to his senses.
"Luan! Luan!"
His name. He remembered now. He remembered everything.
"Bridie?" His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. He opened his eyes. "What happened?"
"You're awake!" The relief in Bridie's voice was tangible. "Mack! Come quick!"
There was a rustle in the bushes downstream and Mack appeared, running back up the bank.
"What happened?" He looked and sounded angry. "You've been gone an hour! Where have you been?"
Luan didn't know what to say. An hour? It had only seemed like minutes to him. Would his friends believe him? And if they did would they treat him differently? Luan suddenly realised that his clothes were soaking wet and his head hurt. He put his hand to his forehead and it came away red with blood.
"I hit my head," he said and added the lie, "I can't really remember."
"You disappeared," said Bridie, her eyes large. "We didn't know where you were. At first, we didn't worry, but then when you didn't come back we started searching, I went upstream and Mack down." She pointed down the valley. "I was just coming back when I heard a cry and a splash. I ran the last bit and you were just pulling yourself out of the stream. And then you collapsed!" Luan could see a tear starting to form in the corner of Bridie's eye. Then speaking almost to herself she said "Don't worry, you're ok now," and pulling her sleeve down over her palm she began to wipe the blood from his forehead. Luan, surprised by the sudden tenderness, opened his mouth and then, with a stab of guilt, closed it again. Looking up, Luan caught Mack's expression and knew that the old man was not so easily distracted.
"Later," Luan mouthed. Mack looked at him keenly for a moment and then turned away with a nod.
They crossed the stream and Luan noticed that both Bridie and Mack gave the stone a wide berth without seeming to notice it. At first the path twisted and wound around rocks then at times climbed almost to the lip of valley so that they could see the stream sparkling below them in the afternoon sun, which, he was very pleased to find, was starting to dry Luan’s clothes. They walked without speaking, pushing through the ferns which sprouted in clumps from between the rocks and scrambling across the gullies that every so often cut the side of the valley. After a while the valley started to open out some more and the going got easier. Even then they walked in silence, each occupied by their own thoughts.
They camped for the night in a copse of hazel trees that grew where a small gully ran down to meet the river.
Luan lit a small fire over which they cooked a rabbit, brought down by Bridie's slingshot. They were all tired after a long march and Bridie soon fell asleep leaving Mack and Luan sitting, watching over the fire. It was Mack who broke the silence.
"Are you going to tell me then?"
"I don't know." Luan wasn't sure how to explain that to talk about it would be to admit that something had happened. To finally give up the internal struggle that had been taking place within him since he left home. Luan looked up at the stars splashed brightly across the sky and suddenly realised that this was all part of his journey. He had given up the safety of home and taken to the hard life of the road understanding that it was an essential step in following his path. Now he realised that he had to step out of the security of his scepticism and accept that there was far more to the world than he had ever believed possible. He looked at the old man slouched opposite him, face dark in the flickering light of the flames and decided it was time.
"You remember when we were at the burial mound and I stepped off the path?" Luan began, "I said I tripped."
Mack's eyes were locked on Luan. "No trip that, I knew it at the time."
Luan shook his head. "No, but what happened was so strange that I was too scared to admit it, even to myself, and then today..." His voice tailed off and he stared into the fire. Mack looked at the young boy, sensing the turmoil inside him.
"You stepped into the other world, didn't you?"
"Yes." Luan glanced up at Mack across the fire and suddenly the words started to come. He let it all out, the strange sensations, the brightness and most of all the meeting with the unworldly Zand. Mack sat silently throughout, his eyes glinting brightly as they reflected the glow of the fire. When Luan had finished talking there was a long pause, punctuated only by the occasional crack of the embers. When Mack finally spoke, it was so quiet that Luan could hardly hear him.
"The Hunters of the Moon."
"What?"
"The men you describe are the Hunters of the Moon. I recognise them from the old songs."
"What old songs? And how can you hunt the moon?" Luan was tired, and still wrestling with his own confusion.
Mack looked across the fire and smiled. "Listen," he said and began to sing.
The grass was green in the morning of the world
And dew wet the feet of the hunters of the dawn
As they tracked the deer through sunlit trees
And fished for salmon in the clear bright streams
No king had they or need of one
No house or farm to hold them down.
All the land was theirs from the hills to the sea
And they owned it not but hunted free.
The hunters were of one with the land
Mother and father it was to them
But then came the tribes from the furthest east
And shattered the hunters’ gentle peace.
He broke off and picking up a stick he leaned forward to poke the fire. A shower of sparks whirled up in the breeze, momentarily casting light on the branches above them.
"That is the start of it. One of the oldest songs it is, telling of the first days before the tribes came to the land. It tells the story of the hunters, who saw their land being tamed and broken and knew it meant the end of their time. So they chose to leave the land they loved and walk the spirit world instead."
"And I met them," responded Luan.
"I believe so."
"So why do you call them the Hunters of the Moon?"
Mack glanced up at the branches silhouetted against the stars.
"The final part of the legend is that when the night is clear and the moon lights up the land, then the hunters return to walk the land they loved and so they are called the Hunters of the Moon."
That night Luan dreamt he was one of the hunters, spear in hand in the moonlight, bare feet walking the high places of the land.
––––––––
THE NEXT MORNING DAWNED grey with drizzle, and they set off without delay. Autumn was passing quickly and it was only a matter of time before the worsening weather started to delay them. Half a day’s march saw them reach the mouth of the valley where the track they followed joined a heavily used road. Behind them the land rose to the moors and in front of them it opened out in a wide shallow bowl of gently rolling farmland dotted with copses of trees. Here and there they could see smoke that indicated settlements. The stream they followed was now a small river with a wide shallow ford where it met the road and it was here they stopped.
"Which way now?" asked Bridie.
Mack looked up trying to gauge the position of the sun and shook his head.
"As far as I can tell this road runs north to south, and we've been heading east but I can’t be sure."
"Sanlynn lies to the East." Luan looked out over the fields, "But I can see no obvious path."
"Cut across country?" suggested Bridie.
Mack grimaced. "Hard going even across farmland! Stick to the road until we come to a path going our way, that's what I think."
Luan wasn't sure. "On the road we're out in the open, very easy to find."
Worry shot across Bridie's face. "You think they're still after us?"
"I think we have to assume so, at least..." Luan stopped mid-sentence, his voice tailing off as he stared at the three riders who had just walked their horses into the road some distance to the north.
"Well, I think that answers that question." Mack had seen them too.
The slavers seemed in no hurry. They seemed to be waiting to see what their quarry would do.
"Why are they just sitting there?" Bridie asked the question for all three of them.
"And where are the others?" added Mack.
"That's it," said Luan. "They're in no hurry because they know they've got us trapped. There must be other small bands like this one, probably one to the south and others searching the moor."
"Then there are only two possibilities," said Mack grimly, "surrender, or fight."
Something suddenly snapped inside Luan as the frustration he felt at being pursued boiled up inside him. He reached his right hand over his shoulder to grip the sword while the left undid the buckle at his chest.
"Looks like we're fighting then," observed Mack.
Bridie whooped with excitement as Mack hefted his staff. Up the track, the three riders also began to prepare themselves. One, armed with a spear, stood up in his stirrups to look first northwards and then south while the others hefted heavy clubs. The spearman pointed and then all three set off at a walk.
Luan looked at the men who would have no hesitation in maiming or killing him and felt a tight ball of fear growing in his stomach. His heart pounded and he could feel the muscles across his shoulders and in his arms begin to tighten, pumping with blood as his body readied itself for action. Luan struggled to swallow as his mouth went suddenly dry and to his heightened perceptions time seemed to slow down. To his left Mack stepped forward to the edge of the ford.
"Take them at the edge, don't let them onto dry land." The old man's voice was raw but steady.
Luan swallowed again and took three steps, halting just short of the swiftly flowing water. He pushed his left foot forward holding the sword in the position that Mack called 'guard', both hands on the hilt, elbows tucked in, the blade pointing forwards and up. Up ahead the spearman barked an order and all three horses broke into a canter.
The image seared itself into Luan’s memory. A frozen tableau that he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life. The three horsemen, hard eyed, grimacing, left hands clutching reigns as their heels kicked against the horses’ flanks. Closer they came, cloaked in rough furs, their bearded faces grimy from a life on the road. The horses in fluid motion, breath snorting, their drumming hooves kicking up the dirt.
The spell was broken by a whirring and a shout from behind him and a stone flew hard and fast from Bridie's sling. Flying true it thumped into the chest of the foremost horse causing it to rear up, pawing the air with a shrill neigh. The horseman was thrown backwards and he struggled to stay in control as the horse span in a tight circle before galloping off down the road, its rider hanging on desperately, half out of the saddle. Luan just had time to register Bridie's yell of triumph before the remaining two riders reached the river and splashed into the shallow water. The spearman was heading straight for Luan. To his left Luan was dimly aware of Mack shouting and lunging with his staff as the other rider spurred his horse forward with a ferocious swing of his club. Then the spearman was on him, half standing in the stirrups as he thrust down at Luan. Seeing the blow coming, Luan swayed to the right and caught the spear shaft on his sword blade. To his surprise and delight the sword sheared straight through the haft, the spearhead falling to the dirt. He span to the right aiming a backhand blow at the rider above him, but the momentum of the horse carried the slaver away and the sword hummed through empty air. The rider continued down the road intent on Bridie, who turned and ran. Luan charged after, sprinting to catch up. He glanced over his shoulder, hoping that Mack didn't need his help, and saw that the old man had managed to knock his opponent out of the saddle. In front of him the slaver reached Bridie and leaned out of the saddle trying to grab the girl by the hair. She screamed and darted to one side, eluding the man’s grasp but then slipping as she tried to run back towards Luan. The horseman shouted in triumph as he wheeled his horse back to the prone girl but the delay was just enough time for Luan to get there. He leapt over Bridie and slashed his sword upwards, desperately trying to defend them both. Luan felt the shock down his arm as the blade connected and then his ears were filled with an animal scream as the horse reacted to the savage cut down the side of its head. It reared, hooves flailing, blood spraying, and then fell to one side, pitching the rider to the ground with a thud. Luan grabbed Bridie and dragged her clear as the horse continued to roll, its hoof catching the slaver's head with a sickening crack. Then it was up and galloping away down the track leaving its rider's lifeless body behind.
There was no time to celebrate victory. Luan looked round wildly to where Mack still struggled with the other rider. To his dismay Luan saw that the third rider had regained control of his mount and was galloping back down the track towards them. Mack shouted with triumph as he landed a blow that knocked his foe's club from his hand and sent the man staggering backwards, his arm hanging limply at his side. But even as Mack stepped forward to deliver a final blow the remaining slaver swept up behind him, beating down with his club. The full momentum of the horse and rider sent Mack flying to land in a crumpled heap on the road. Luan ran forward, raising his sword, determined to help his friend, but the slavers weren't interested in continuing the fight. With one man down, another injured and a well-armed, determined foe still to face, the last rider pulled his companion up behind him and fled.
