The Chronicles of Amaes Book 1: A Kingdom of Lies

Chapter 3

   The night was here. Dark shadows danced around the campfire, and the sounds of the bandits filled the camp. A full moon was hanging in a space between the circle of trees that bordered the clearing filled with tents, and its light bathed the trees in a pale light.

 Elaeda's heart beat quickly, cold sweat on her brow. She was tied to a large  stump with a thick rope, her dress covered in dirt and mud. She shifted uncomfortably and tried to bring her knees up to her bosom. The cold forest air was sweeping through her tattered clothes and cutting to her bones.  The bandits had left her here what seemed like hours ago, and no one had approached her since. It was clear that the man who killed Goderva was their leader. She assumed he hadn't arrived yet, but was sure that it could not be long now. Elaeda shivered. Those fierce eyes. Goderva... no. She could not dwell on that. She was here and needed to think of a way to escape.

  A man swaggered up to her stump, his skinny frame swaying from side to side in a drunken stupor. He kneeled before her and burped. Elaeda could smell the whisky on him. The drunk bandit tilted his face up and Elaeda was met by a familiar horrifying face.

It was the man who had ripped her from the carriage. In his state his already terrifying face was amplified, bloodshot eyes were out of focus and his dirty hair shaking.

"W..ell. If it isnt her mage..sty." The man giggled. " I like your hair...,"

The man reached forward, his hands touching the princess's red curls. Elaeda tried to pull away, and the man hiccuped in joy as he leaned closer...

"Oy!" A shout came from behind the man and a hand was laid on his shoulder. Elaeda's rescuer was tall and young, with a cleanly shaven chin and deep blue eyes that nicely complimented his red hair. He wore a silk coat with brass buttons, presumably stolen.

"Ya dunna touch 'er!" His accent was clearly Ferrin. Elaeda's mother had hailed from that province. Elaeda had only been there once, but she remembered fierce people, large men and conflict. She did not recall why, but there were tears and blood.

The newcomer yanked the drunk man away from her. The drunk roared in rage and launched himself at him. The Ferriner in the silk coat went down, and there was a flash of steel in the moonlight.  Elaeda sucked in a gasp as the two men went rolling out of sight.

"Come."

Elaeda yelped in fear as a flat, emotionless voice came from behind her. Suddenly the rope was slack and  and fell to the ground. Elaeda spun around... to find nothing but darkness. Her savior, whoever they were, was gone. With a quick glance behind her, the princess took off into the trees. Her shoeless feet were in pain, stepping over sharp shapes in the dark, what remained of her once fine dress flapped around her feet. She caught a seam on a branch and ripped it free. Exposed skin shone white in the dark. Elaeda was sure that she was showing an absurd amount of breast. The girl turned to look behind her once more. There was a light following her, and gaining. Shouts echoed through the forest.

  Elaeda turned, and rammed into something hard. She fell backwards onto the cold ground. A shape loomed over her.

"Follow, or die." It was the same emotionless voice. Elaeda stared up at the astral figure. Was this a dream? Shouts came closer. A nightmare.

Elaeda climbed to her feet and was shoved forward. Nearly bursting with adrenaline and fear, the girl ran, as hard as she could. There was a small buzz beside her ear, and a deep voice screamed. Another buzz, and something whipping by her ear, and another scream.

Elaeda felt a fierce pain, and the dark world flipped on its side. As the darkness crept in, howls filled the night.

  Gunth was frightened. He could not see past four feet in front of him, and his friends screams filled the night. The lantern the group of brigands had been carrying  was exstinguished. The blasted girl, whoever she was, was in this forest and escaping, and there was something with her.

A different scream sounded. This was a much higher one, and certainly did not belong to a bandit. It was a bellow of pain.

  Shadows, or something like them, flew towards him. They tore into his flesh and ripped out his organs. Gunth  howled and fell to the ground. Gorgath had come. Surely this, this hellish pain was his.

As the shadows devoured him, Gunth prayed for death.