Rija

The sons of God saw the daughters of men were fair…and they took them.                                              

 Genesis 6

Sambeth slipped out from her hiding place and stole right up behind Rija. 

Quieter than a zephyr, she breathed, “Follow me.” 

She didn’t wait to see if the girl followed but slid behind a thick tree and ran easily into the green gloom of the forest. The girl, after a quick, startled glance, darted after her gliding through the undergrowth. 

Sambeth could hear that she was light on her feet. Even with the flowing length of scarlet dress bunched up and flung over one arm, she avoided stepping on the crackling, brittle twigs, making little to no noise. 

After several minutes of pure panicked flight, Sambeth pulled up hard and leaned against the length of a great tree. Rija clung to it right beside her. 

“That was brave,” she whispered looking Rija over with wide eyes, “there are not many people who could look into Altor’s face without flinching.”

“What are we going to do?” Rija whispered back, her white cheeks held a faint flush. 

She seemed not to question the astonishing appearance of a young female alone in the forest. Sambeth, from the top of her plaited, dark head to the soles of her small feet, a green tunic over brown leather pants, looked a veritable sylvan child of the forest. 

Sambeth pointed up, “We go up there.” 

Rija looked up, craning her neck. The top of the tree was beyond her sight, hidden in the thick canopy above. 

She looked back at Sambeth with eyebrows raised.

 “You think we can hide up there?” her tone was unbelieving. 

“Do you have a better idea?” Sambeth stepped back slightly. 

Without ceremony she grasped Rija’s upper arm and spun her around to face the trunk, “We have to get up this one.” 

Perhaps she should have left this girl behind. 

She cupped her hands together.

 “Here. Leap up and get your hands onto the first branch.”  

Rija complied silently. She put a foot into Sambeth’s hands and sprang up as Sambeth lifted as hard as she could.  Rija grabbed and held onto the lowest branch with two hands, legs hanging. 

“Swing up,” Sambeth commanded, hoping silently that she wouldn’t lose her grip and drop down. There was no time for multiple attempts.

With some difficulty, Rija swung one leg upward. She kicked and squirmed until she gained the branch. She gave Sambeth a small, victorious smile and reached down a hand. Sambeth took a running jump and with a lithe grace, ignored the outstretched hand and flung herself up beside Rija. 

Once the first high branch was gained, climbing was much easier, although Rija was still greatly impeded by her long dress. It caught on the rough bark, snagged on branches and jerked her to a rude halt as she surged upward. Sambeth heard her muted exclamation of annoyance. She slid back down to her, pulling out her knife in one swift move.

Rija’s eyes widened. Her hand half lifted as if to ward off a blow. Sambeth shook her head with a wry twist of her lips. Rija was Arcan through and through, nervous, wary and always alert to a personal attack. Sambeth grabbed the trailing half of Rija’s dress and with a speed and efficiency driven by sheer need slashed it off at the knee. She was not much different from Rija, she acknowledged. Seconds later the razor sharp knife was safely back in its shoulder sheath. She stuffed the fabric into her pack bag and took off again upward.

They concentrated on climbing swiftly and silently. Soon they were completely shrouded in leaves and hidden from any eyes on the forest floor. Sambeth climbed easily, moving from branch to branch with muscled ease. Rija was much slower. In Arca, young highborn women were kept fairly cloistered without much opportunity for exertion.

“Won’t they track us here?” Rija asked tentatively. She didn’t know quite what to make of this stranger girl who had showed up, in wild of the Endless Forest so opportunely. 

She stared at Sambeth and was shocked to realise that this was a very young woman. The dark hair, plaited and twisted intricately and held back from her face made her look older but the youthful curve of the cheek told another story. Her eyes were an incredible light blue that looked strange against the dull, black hair.

“They might track us to the tree,” Sambeth replied, chewing nervously at her full, lower lip, “but nobody, human or otherwise, can track us through thin air.” 

Rija looked puzzled but Sambeth had had enough of talking.

 “Come on, we must keep climbing. I have a plan.”

Higher and higher they climbed through the thick, lovely limbs of the giant tree. Sambeth hoped she’d picked the right tree and that he was in the vicinity. She was pretty sure she had. She was still in shock that she’d seen people out here. Nobody she knew ever came this far into the Endless Forest. It was far too dangerous.  If Pip didn’t show up then she would have to find another way to save herself and Rija. 

Her mind darted through ideas, turning them over and casting them out one after the other as she powered upward.  The best she could think of was taking Rija back down the tree and running into Atedin territory.  The huge, boar-like Atedin stood as tall as a man and his body was thick, bricklike and strong. Sharp tusks bristled out from a massive head. He roamed in quite large herds, ripping and tearing up the forest floor in search of anything edible.  The Atedin was not averse to meat.  Luckily one could usually spot the traces of a herd before stumbling upon them.  If anyone found them, she could throw off any pursuit by skirting near and letting Atedin chase them away.

In the distance a great cry arose. It lifted through the treetops, startling flocks of brilliantly coloured birds, sending them swooping and swirling and uttering warning calls of their own. The sound of that cry turned the sweat on their bodies to instant ice. It was terrible and wrathful and held the full promise of retribution. 

“Quick,” Sambeth hissed to Rija, “you’ve got to climb faster.”

“I’m amazed they took so long to notice,” Rija said in between heavy breaths, “I wonder who Noesh might be?”

“Whoever it is, the mention of him distracted Altor and Proximus so completely they didn’t notice us slipping away. It saved us,” Sambeth replied. 

She hadn’t had time to ponder anything but how to escape.

They could hear men shouting and a sinister growling which could only be the immense voice of the Earthborn, Altor. The two girls pushed upward, getting their second wind, moving faster through the dense foliage. If only one of the forest creatures would attack the Earthborn and at least buy them an extra few minutes.

“It’s Proximus I’m worried about,” said Sambeth suddenly, “he can fly.”

“I’m worried about all of them,” Rija said shortly, “the ones that accompanied us into the forest have been out here before. They know what they’re doing.”

“Even your…er…uncle?” Sambeth asked.

“Especially him,” Rija said bitterly, “I’ve thwarted his plans today.”

“He planned today?” Sambeth stopped climbing to stare at Rija in amazement. 

She wondered which of the great Houses she belonged to. Rija nodded silently, bit her lip and kept climbing.

“Yes, he…” she paused and glanced at Sambeth, “he picked me out for the sacrifice deliberately. I was shocked. I believed he was fond of me, like a favoured daughter.” 

She cast a mocking look at Sambeth. 

“Now I see what his real plan was.  He believes I can ensnare this Altor, one of the three mighty sons of Proximus.”

Sambeth was surprised again, “But I thought he’d rather see you dead than the mother of tainted offspring.”

“That was his talk. I’m guessing that he’d like the power of the connection. No doubt he’d arrange for the offspring to disappear.” 

Rija shook her head suddenly as if trying to dispel the thoughts teeming through her brain.

“By the way,” Rija said quietly, “you risked your life to help me escape and I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Sambeth,” Sambeth replied, a feeling of guilt passing over her. 

Would she have helped Rija if she hadn’t feared the discovery of her own hiding place under the bush? She wasn’t so sure. She’d heard often enough that Earthborn girls weren’t known for their compassion. She grimaced, dispelling the thought. Her mother flatly denied the taunting accusations of her husband’s other wives, the highborn ones. They called Sambeth’s mother an adulteress.

She cocked her head, listening. The noises of the chase were so much closer.

 “You haven’t escaped yet, Rija! Come on, move!” 

The two girls pushed on upward, pressing toward the top of the truly enormous tree. They were now hundreds of feet high in the air and completely drenched in sweat. Every exposed part of their bodies bore the marks of their headlong climb with scrapes, scratches and smears of blood.

A wave of relief washed over Sambeth as at last she heard a faint creeling over head. 

“Come on, come. Nearly there,” she urged.

A huge shadow flitted overhead. It uttered a high, fluting cry as it passed.

Sambeth scrambled out sideways along a limb. All around her the tops of the trees spread out as far as the eye could see. 

The sweet, throbbing call sounded again. 

“Sambeth! Come back,” Rija’s whisper was a shriek, “there’s a shimerith out there.”

Sambeth let out a thin, piercing whistle through her teeth. 

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Rija demanded, “Sambeth get back here.” 

She hissed but Sambeth ventured out further into the sunlight. She felt exposed and vulnerable as she left the sheltering cover of the tree. She whistled again, more shrilly this time. It was a call she thought she’d never make again.

“Trust me,” she said over her shoulder, “come on. Get as close to me as you can and get ready to jump.”

“Whaaaaaat?” 

A loud baying rose from the forest floor far below. Sambeth almost shrieked and slipped on her far flung out branch. 

“Come on, Rija,” she urged, “that Earthborn will be up this tree in half the time it took us.” 

Instantly, Rija was right beside her on the branch. Again Sambeth whistled that strange, high, piercing whistle.

“Sambeth!” Rija whispered hoarsely in her ear. “I can hear him! Altor is coming.” 

An unearthly growl sounded still far below. It was full of intense fury and rage. Sambeth felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

“Come on, come on,” she urged, looking around the tree tops, “where are you?” 

She jumped as Rija clutched her arm bruisingly.

 “Look!” she pointed. 

Sambeth looked where she was pointing. Coming straight for them was an enormous shimerith. It curved its long neck to gaze straight at them and called out again. This time there was a hint of urgency in its strange, wild voice. 

Sambeth replied with a perfectly mimicking whistle.

The shimerith passed low overhead. Sambeth looked behind her. Rija was flattened on the branch. 

“Stand up, Rija, and get ready to jump. He’s here – our ride is here.”

“Whaaaaat? You mean–I am not jumping on that creature. It will burn us up, tear us to pieces.”

“Then stay and get burned up or torn to pieces by Altor. He’s nearly here.”

Indeed the terrifying growling was getting closer and closer. If possible, Rija turned whiter. She stood up on the branch alongside Sambeth and poised, ready to jump. The shimerith had turned and was coming along just below their branch. The huge, leathery wings flapped slowly and then spread to glide under them.

“I know you’re there,” Altor shouted up at them, “you fools. Puny humans. Where do you think you’re going? You will not escape me. One of you I will tear to pieces. The other will be mine.” 

He was almost up to their branch.

‘Come on, Pip,’ Sambeth thought urgently, ‘Almost there.‘ 

“Psshhhhh, pshhhhh,” she whistled urgently. 

Altor was equal to their branch. He had not seen the shimerith. 

“Whistle little one,” he laughed cruelly, “whistle all you can. I will not mistake you for a little bird.”

“Jump now!” Sambeth cried.

They sprang forward and landed on the great undulating back beneath them. Shaggy hair covered a solid body bigger than an elephant. Sambeth sank her hands deep in the hair right where the massive shoulders joined the powerful, long neck. Either side of her stretched mighty leather wings lightly covered in fur. Behind snaked a long, narrow tail ending in a wedge with three razor sharp, bony prongs. 

“Help us, Pip,” she breathed. 

The shimerith turned its slender wedge-shaped head and gazed at her with large, intelligent eyes. The dark pupils dilated suddenly then narrowed. It hissed menacingly.

Sambeth glanced over her shoulder and saw the Earth-Born make a tremendous leap. 

“No,” she screamed and Rija screamed beside her. 

The shimerith undulated violently and with a deadly flick, swung its tree-trunk tail and smashed Altor mid-air. The Terrible One, though powerful, was no match for the swipe of a shimerith tail. He went careering wildly down, down through the branches of the trees. He cried out something as he spiralled downward and she made out the word father.

The last glimpse Sambeth had was Altor, with a supreme effort, reach out and grasp a branch, halting his fall. An impossible feat for an ordinary man, but the children of the mysterious Fallen Ones and human women had superb abilities. A cold finger of fear slid down her spine. Altor would never give up now.

Then she saw it. A shimmering glow hovering over the spot where Altor was. 

‘Oh no,’ she thought, ‘we’re in real trouble now.’ 

She leaned forward.

“Fly, Pip,” she urged, “fly as fast as you can, dear one. Faster than we’ve ever flown before. Hang on, Rija.” 

Now clear of the canopy, with great thrusts of his mighty wings, Pip sprang through the air. Behind the fleeing shimerith the glow faded and the outline of Proximus began to appear. 

“Father!” 

In a second the Fallen One was beside Altor. His son, ruffled and bruised, sat gingerly on a wide limb.

“Still having fun with your little games, Altor?” the Fallen One drawled.

“Father,” Altor’s voice shook with rage, “they escaped me. Me!”

“So,” his father said thoughtfully, “two small, incredibly young, human girls escaped you – Altor the Mighty?” 

Altor sobered instantly at the quiet tone of his father’s voice. There was no man on earth that frightened Altor but when the Fallen One was angry his Earthborn sons were careful. Very careful.

“You called me, Altor. What is it you wish me to do?”

“I want her, Father. She is lovely and brave. She’ll make an incomparable mother of fine sons.” 

The Fallen One raised his eyebrows.

 “Is it love this time, my own fine son, that drives you?” 

Altor inclined his head slightly. 

“Aaaaahhhh, I see,” his father mocked. With a rueful bitterness he continued, “the Fixation. Beautiful human girls have been the Down-Fall of our kind, literally.” 

He gazed up at the sky, high and blue above him and shook his head.

“I have seen wonders you have never known, which you can’t imagine, Altor. Yet…” the Fallen One gazed upward again, “yet I gave it all up for a human woman.”

“Then fly, Father, fly after them. Bring her back to me.”

The Fallen One turned. In an instant he was beside Altor, one iron hand around his throat, holding him hard against the massive trunk of the tree with incredible force.

“Your brothers, Gnoster and Nicea, are out furthering the Plan, defeating armies of hardened human warriors, conquering more cities, gathering more wealth, more power and more peoples for Me, Altor!” he roared. 

The forest shook with the sound. 

“Yet you are asking me to chase down two weak girls that have tricked you and got the best of you?” 

He stared with a granite gaze into his son’s eyes.

“And to think I had planned to give the city of Arca to you. Oh yes, Altor, I’m well aware of your ambitions, your machinations and the power plays the humans try to gain through you.”

“Father, I would never betray you,” Altor ground between white lips, “true, I desire that city but you are my father. Always I am loyal to you.” 

The Fallen One stared penetratingly into Altor’s eyes. Seeing sincerity there, he released him abruptly.

“Perhaps I can retrieve your dark-haired beauty for you, my son,” he said quietly, “perhaps it was that crackpot, Noesh, who arranged for her rescue.  If I find her, I may find him.” 

He returned his gaze to his son’s face.

“However, the city I will not give…yet.”

Altor looked steadily into his eyes as Proximus continued.

“Not until you prove yourself to me. I have a task for you and upon its successful completion we will talk again about Arca.”

Altor leaned forward eagerly, “Anything, Father. What is it you wish me to do?”

The Fallen One walked off the branch upon which he stood and hovered, wings fluttering ever so slightly.

“You should be careful what you promise,” his tone again was mocking and without another word he sprang in the air and flew after the swiftly disappearing shimerith.