Stopping his lathered mount with nought but a word, Silverleaf swung his leg up and across the buck and sprang to the ground, landing with the grace of a cat. As with all of immortal Elvenkind, Vanidar appeared to be no more than a lean-limbed youth, though his actual age could have been one millennium or ten or more. He had golden hair cropped at the shoulder and tied back with a simple leather headband, as was the fashion among most Lian and Dylvana. He was clad in grey-green and wore a golden belt which held a long-knife. His feet were shod in soft leather and he stood perhaps five feet nine or ten- more than a full head taller than Arin. In fact, compared to all the Dylvana, Silverleaf outstripped them in height, for Dylvana males typically range from four feet eleven to five feet five, while females span four to six inches less.
Behind Vanidar the others dismounted as well-Rissa and Perin and Biren and Ruar and Melor-their horses sweat-foamed and blowing. The Dylvana were dressed much the same as Silverleaf in their loose-fitting jerkins and close-fitting breeks, though for the most part they favored earth tones-brown and russet and umber-all but beautiful, dark-eyed Rissa, who wore a deep blue, nearly black.
As he turned to haul down the stag, Vanidar glanced over his shoulder at Arin and flashed her a smile, his pale grey eyes atwinkle. "Thou shouldst have been with us, Ring. 'Twas a glorious chase. We almost lost him in the grove, but Rissa"-Silverleaf gestured toward the black-haired Dylvana loosening her cinch and pulling off her saddle-"jumped him up and the chase was on again."
Arin smiled. "Tend the buck, Silverleaf; I will tend thy horse."
Vanidar hefted the stag 'cross his shoulders and strode to a nearby oak. He laid the buck down and fetched two lengths of rope. "We didn't dress him in the field; I'll bleed him out here." He stepped back to the stag and squatted, tying the lines 'round the buck's rear shanks just above the hooves.
By this time Arin had the saddle off Vanidar's mount and was using twisted grass sheaves to rub the animal down. "Do I need walk him?" she called as she stroked along its left flank.
"I think not," said Ruar nearby. "We rode at a walk most of the way back… until we reached the clearing."
Rissa strode past, heading for Vanidar as he looped the lines over a sturdy low limb. "Let me give thee a hand with that, chieran."
Together the two of them haled the stag by its hind legs up off the ground, and it hung there upside down, its rack of antlers swinging just above the grassy loam.
As Arin worked her way 'round to the other side of Silverleaf's horse, Vanidar unsheathed his razor-sharp long-knife and slit the dead buck's throat.
Blood gushed out, staining the earth.
Arin glanced over at the scarlet pour, free-flowing blood runneling down neck and chin and onto the sward and into the soil below.
She glanced away from this sanguine sight and looked into the fire at hand.
Her eyes flew wide and she gasped in distress, and harsh breath hissed 'tween clenched teeth. Horse, stag, Elven companions: all were forgotten as the vision took her.
Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks and she cried out in torment, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from the Seeing.
And then her mind fled from her and she fell senseless to the ground.
CHAPTER 8
Data… Dara…"
Who calls from afar?
"Dara…"
Nearer.
"Dara…"
Closer still.
"Dara."
Arin opened her eyes. Ginger-haired Biren knelt beside her, concern in his face as he chafed her wrists and said once again, "Dara." The others stood back, disquieted.
Muzzily Arin nodded in acknowledgment, then struggled to rise, but Biren shook his head and held her back. "A moment more, Dara."
She took a deep breath. "What happened?"
"Thou didst faint."
Of a sudden the vision came flooding back. "Oh, Adon, let it not be," she exclaimed, distress in her voice.
"What?" Perin, Biren's twin, now knelt opposite, consternation in his pale brown eyes. "What is it that should not be?"
"Slaughter, Perin," she replied, "bloody slaughter. War sweeping o'er all." Arin pushed Biren's staying hand aside and sat up. She glanced at the fire. "I Saw."
Elves looked at one another, alarm upon their faces, for they all knew the truth of Arin's visions.
Rissa reached out to take Vanidar's hand in hers. "Mayhap it is a sight from the past," she said, hopefully.
"Aye," said Silverleaf. "Mayhap a war from the elder times, a war long gone."
Arin shook her head. "It cannot be a past happening, Rissa, Vanidar, at least I think it cannot, for it seems too great to be obscure, and I did not recognize it."
Melor handed Arin a cup of water, a crushed mint leaf swirling within. She nodded her thanks to the russet-haired Dylvana and drank it down, then reached up and took Ruar's offered hand and stood. Melor refilled the cup.
"Exactly what didst thou see, Dara?" asked Ruar.
Arin drew a deep breath. "Steeds thundering 'cross the land, reaving swords slashing down, hacking off legs and arms and heads and gutting the innocent, spilling their intestines out on the ground. Day sky dark as night with the smoke of burning cities. Forests hewn. Fields salted. Rivers running red with blood. Gorcrows and vultures by the thousands feeding upon the slain multitudes, slashing beaks plucking out eyes, rending flesh, gulping down gobbets of rotting meat. Great dark winged shapes wheeling in the sky, flame roaring from their throats-"
Rissa gasped. "Dragons?"
Arin nodded. "Aye, Rissa. Dragons."
Biren held out a negating hand. "Dragons in a war on Mithgar? This has never been."
"Mayhap a local war?" conjectured Perin.
Arin shook her head. "Nay, Perin, 'tis more than that, for I have not told all."
"There's more?"
"Aye: I beheld a map of Mithgar, a great stain of blood spreading wide, covering the whole of the land."
Vanidar's jaw clenched and his hand went to his long-knife. "Then it is a great doom thou hast foreseen, mayhap the doom of the world."
Ruar sighed and looked at Silverleaf. "Then thou thinkest it is yet to come?"
Vanidar nodded. "Aye, Ruar. I agree with Dara Arin. A war sweeping across the face of Mithgar, a war with Dragons involved, a doom entangling the whole of the world… it has never been."
"Who would be so mad as to do such?" asked Perin.
All eyes turned to Arin. She turned up her palms in distressed uncertainty, then said, "There is more."
Ruar's eyes widened. "More to thy vision?"
"Aye, I have not told all."
"Then say on."
Arin glanced at the fire. "Riding in the train of war comes plague, pestilence, and famine, for long after the crush of cruel iron has swept past, tens of thousands will continue to die-nought but skin and bones with great pustulant black buboes bursting forth and spewing out yellow poison. And scuttling among the stricken to feed upon the dead come rats and beetles and many-legged crawlers and other creeping vermin."
Arin paused to take another drink, and none said aught but waited in silence instead. Melor started to replenish the water, but she shook her head. "There is one last thing central to the vision: a stone… a green stone-"
"A rock?" asked Perin.
"A gem?" added Rissa.
"Hush," said Silverleaf. "Let her speak and she will tell us."
"It was pale green, a lucent jade," said Arin. "Smooth and egglike it was, yet how big I cannot say, for there was nought to judge it against. But I do know that it is key to the vision, for all the other images whirled 'round and 'round the stone, as if it were the eye of a maelstrom, the anchor of the doom."