A Sveryan Tale

Prologue

Thunder rolled outside of the palace, accompanied by the continuous roar of raindrops and the plaintive howling of the wind. It was during the rainy season of that region, drenching the forests of the Epiphyte Kingdom. The palace gates loomed large and wet, an opening in the stone wall surrounding the royal grounds.

Crash! Boom!

A streak of lightning split the sky and illuminated the forest, flashing for an instant the sharp, colorless figures of two women in dark cloaks hurtling toward the palace gate at breakneck speed, tripping and stumbling in the deep mud.

Bam, bam, bam, bam!

They pounded at the massive wooden gate, so heavy that it took several men to open it. Their chests heaved with the effort, but there was no answer.

Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam!

The two women tried again. The only sound was the fierce and violent storm that raged around them. The taller woman growled in wild frustration. Any second now, and all would be lost. She gritted her teeth and groped around in the dark for a stick. Squish, squish, squish, went the mud beneath her fingers.

Crash! Boom!

Another flash of lightning, this one louder than before. It gave enough light for her to glimpse the end of a short, stout and twisted branch. She lunged for it.

"Augh!" The shorter woman, who was beginning to lose it, suddenly made a run and threw her slight body against the thick wooden gate, tripping over the tall one in the process. Splat, she went, into the mire, still looking fearfully over her shoulder and into the deep, dark forest.

Ignoring the pain, the tall one grabbed the stick and began pounding at the gate for all she was worth. The sound of wood striking wood rang out.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thu--

"WHO GOES THERE?" A loud, booming guard challenged them from the lookout on top of the wall above them. The shorter girl nearly screamed an answer, but the tall one dropped the stick, lunged for the girl, and covered her mouth. This was not the time to take chances, she thought as she glanced behind them. Voices, shouting directions. She deepened her voice on an impulse.

"It is Captain Serapis of Bainilla. The Prince expects me. Open up!"

The woman closed her eyes and winced. She hated being so vulnerable as to depend upon a stranger's stupidity, but had she a choice?

"Open the gates!" came the sharp command, barely heard over the frequent thunderclaps. Mother wit, these guards were dumb.

The heavy gates creaked open with painful slowness, gradually flooding the ground with dim, golden torchlight. The two young women dashed madly inside, but before the guards had finished opening them quite wide, began to try with all their might to push them back closed. The burly captain of the guard stood for a moment, bewildered at the sight of two women instead of the expected Captain Serapis, shoving heavy palace gates into place against the efforts of his gatemen.

He drew his sword. "What are you doing? Who are you?" he demanded.

The tall woman turned her hooded head fiercely toward him as she threw her weight upon the gate.

"Do you want a battle on your hands? We are not alone, an enemy is approaching. Close the gates!" Something in her wild eyes and repressed tone made the captain agree.

"Close the gates!" he commanded his men. With that, the men shoved urgently against the palace gate. More voices sounded in the depths of the forest, like menacing noises from the stomach of a huge and terrible beast, but they were presently drowned out by the loud clunk of the large wooden beam falling into place and sealing the Epiphyte palace shut. The two women stood panting and exhausted.

The captain of the guard sheathed his sword. "Who are you?" he queried, eyeing the strangers speculatively.

The tall woman turned to face him and threw the hood from her head. "I am Princess Aiyana of Amadahy."