Yavenna
Over five hundred Dryads set off from Thringevelt. They'd run for a whole day. Even Yavenna felt weary by the time they stopped. Weary, and confused. As she'd run she'd thought about what Channa had said. Her friend had fetched Giryan once Yavenna had dressed, and he'd confirmed what the birthmarks meant, even though the Princess had refused to show him her mark. She'd gone over the conversation a hundred times in her mind already.
Sitting on the grass, taking her chain mail off, her head was a fog of questions. Could it be true what Channa had said? Might it just be that her mother was Ithrim but didn't have the mark? Or if Yeroz wasn't her father – did he know? But if he did know, did he even care about her at all? Was that why he'd been happy for her to marry a vicious murderer? Was it just a convenient way to get rid of her? She lay down to try to sleep. But sleep didn't come.
Pulling off the petals of a daisy that poked up from underneath her great-grandmother's rug, she was aware of Gared looking at her. He hadn't said any more to her about abandoning Mal. In fact, he hadn't said anything at all to her. But right now, she couldn't care less. She knew she'd tried to help Mal. The moment before she closed her eyes she saw an image of Mal's handsome face in the half-light of his room. Well, she'd see him again tomorrow, and Sharva. She'd missed her.
***
They set off again at dawn the next day, but at a slower pace this time. Yavenna knew they'd need all the strength they could muster when they reached Gelenburg.
Some two hours later Yavenna could suddenly see the outline of the city across the plain. A few trees and a wall stood between her and the man she'd run from, only days before. Wasn't this the last place she should be running to? As they ran closer she could see a dark mass around the city.
"It's started," called Channa, and instantly the Dryads stopped singing.
"Are we too late?" Yavenna whispered. Her throat felt tight. She swallowed, but it didn't help. She could see now the darkness was a simmering horde of men. Smoke was rising from the city walls, as they ran ever closer she heard cries, bangs, the sound of chaos.
"We won't be able to tell until we're closer," answered Channa, and she reached over to Yavenna and gripped her arm, "and there's no time for us to rest, we'll have to run straight into battle." Syri, the Dryad leader ran past, shouting instructions. Giryan raced up to Yavenna.
"Stay here, Princess. Wait in the trees. If we don't win you must run back to Thringevelt and ask them to keep you safe." Channa hugged Yavenna, but said nothing. The Princess stood still and watched Giryan, the Talahund, and the others run on. After a few strides, Channa looked behind and held her hand up, then twisted around to run again.
Yavenna stared at Channa's back as she ran towards the city. What was she doing here? She wasn't even eighteen; less than a mile away, two armies were fighting to the death and now her friends were going to join them. Suddenly she saw an image of the ten men hanging on the gallows, and she felt again the texture of the Star King's scroll in her hands. If they lost today would Ulric make her marry him? Or would he just kill her? Her hand grabbed restlessly at her pendant. It felt warm. The Starstone! A shock ran through her as she remembered how she'd broken the mage's Starstone and fought the soldiers. There was no way she was going to stay here! Grabbing the water skin that hung under her mail she took a long draught, then reattached it. She had to fight for herself, as well as for her friends, as well as for the people of Arvad, and for her own people, for Tarhasta.
She started to run again, and quickly caught up with the ranks of Dryads. The battle was a few hundred yards in front of them. Her stomach was tingling but she couldn't tell whether it was from fear or anticipation. Leaping through the grass she felt strength begin to rise up in her. Someone called her name.
"Yavenna," it was Gared, beside her, "Be careful." He grabbed her arm, then pulled her against him in some sort of awkward embrace. "Don't take any risks." Then he dropped back, leaving her confused. But she didn't have time to think for long.
A multitude of fighting men was directly in front of her. Bodies were littered on the ground, and she could see most of them weren't wearing the uniform armor of the soldiers. As the host of Dryads and Talahund surged forward, the mass of soldiers ploughed into them. Yavenna stood still, holding her shield above her head. She didn't know what to do. But as she watched the sea of bodies surge, a few yards away she saw a soldier smash an axe down on Giryan. The Ithrim jumped aside just in time, whirled around and stabbed the soldier. Yavenna strapped her shield over her shoulder, drew her sword in her left hand and her Dryad axe in her right hand and walked steadily towards the crowd. A soldier lurched towards her, and laughingly clutched her arm.
"What have we here then, a pretty maid? This is no place for you." He grabbed her wrists together. "You wait here for me and I'll see you after the battle, as a celebration." He pushed his face up to hers to kiss her. But her anger flashed in her face before his filthy lips touched hers. She kneed him between his legs, and as he fell over, screaming, she stabbed him in the chest.
This is it then, she thought. Fight for your life. She lifted her axe high, and saw astonishment on a soldier's face as he saw she was a woman. That was your last thought, she resolved and smashed the axe down on the back of his neck. As it hit his flesh, blue light flashed around her axe. But the light attracted unwelcome attention. A huge club-wielding soldier, who stood a head taller than any of the other men and who looked uncannily like the king's bodyguard, lumbered towards her as she jumped sideways to dodge blows from two soldiers. She was forced back towards the brute, her stomach clenching, and he laughed and raised his arm, lifting a great sword above her head.
Yavenna sprang to the side of him, shoving another soldier out of her way with a trembling shoulder. He was appallingly massive; but the crowd of soldiers around her was solid, the only way she could see to save herself was to get a blow at him first before he hit her. Gritting her teeth, she swiped her arm back and then swung the axe as hard as she could. There was a flash of blue light and the axe sliced deep into his side, cutting through his armor. It was so deeply embedded she had to let go of it. He let out a harsh cry and dropped his sword, his arm falling to his side. Yavenna was so shocked she almost dropped the sword she held in her other hand. She stumbled backwards, barely remembering to look around her. But the soldiers behind her had seen what happened and suddenly there was space around her. The giant gripped her axe, and wrenched it out of his flesh. Yavenna shook herself and ran forward with her sword out, thrusting it deep into his amored belly only inches from the axe wound. Again, there was a flash of blue light, but this time a waft of burnt flesh assailed her nostrils. The giant staggered and with a groan fell backwards. There was a great thud as he hit the grass, and the ground shook.
Yavenna stood motionless, as the battle raged around her, staring at the body of the giant at her feet, the huge man she'd just killed entirely on her own. Her hand snaked inside her mail to touch the pendant. Is this strength from the Starstone, or do I have Ithrim blood? she wondered, trying to relive the surge of power she felt as she hit the giant. The Dryad Queen had said Starstone held great power. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, Treghanna's other words crashed into her mind. "Some humans were made ill by the stone." A sudden agony of realization pierced her heart; whether or not the strength was from the stone, it was this stone that killed her mother, this stone around her neck had made her mother so ill that she died. – she didn't want its filthy power, she didn't want anything to do with it. With a groan, she wrenched the pendant over her head, snapping the chain again. Burning tears blurred her vision as she flung it to the ground.
A few yards behind her, Channa let out a cry as she saw Yavenna fling the pendant away. She darted to pick it up from a muddy puddle where it had fallen. Yavenna stood for a moment, deep in thought, then she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, grabbed two swords from the ground and ran back towards the fighting.
The battlefield was a seething mass of bodies. Dead men covered the floor, Yavenna had to jump over them. All she could think of was death, and superimposed over the fermenting horde was a picture of her mother lying wanly in her bed. But she would fight now, she would do all she could to defeat him. She sliced and stabbed, trying to ignore the bile in her stomach as she fought her way closer to the city.
Soldier after soldier fell at her feet, and then Yavenna saw Kelten leap in front of her, blood pouring from a head wound, and someone called her name.
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