Chapter One

The Path is Laid

    The full moon bathed the valley in its silver light, sending the spidery shadows of thousands of tree branches sprawling across the sparkling snow.  The navy sky was dotted with endless stars.  The trees appeared to be towering shadows against the horizon.  A small village was nestled comfortably between the two hills that formed the valley.  A solitary figure astride his horse rode down the path leading to the cluster of houses.  The horse snorted and pranced at the sound of a wolf howling on the hillside.

    Alexander Cadwell stroked the bay neck of his mount and whispered to him soothingly.  He shivered and pulled his coat up to his chin.  The winter winds had come early that year, and with them came the snow that now covered the countryside hills.  Alexander was returning from an unsuccessful hunting venture.  He had gone out when the fields and forests were still green, but the unexpected snowstorms sent him home empty-handed.  It comforted his heart to see the faint yellow glow of his village’s lanterns.

    “Hullo, Alexander!” hailed the gatekeeper as Alexander approached the village.  “Did you get anything this time?”

    “I’m afraid not,” he sighed regretfully.  “I wasn’t anticipating such violent and sudden snowstorms.”

    An incredulous laugh erupted from the gatekeeper.  “A little bit of snow, driving the infamous Alexander Cadwell home from a hunting mission?  You may only be seventeen years of age, sir, but you’re well known in these parts for unmatchable aim with the bow and incomparable skill with the blade.”

    “They exaggerate.  Marcus Fortescue can outshoot anyone in this country, and you know it.”  He leaned forward in his saddle and said in a secretive way, “But his swordsmanship is lacking at best.”

    The gatekeeper laughed.  “Aye, Marcus is good with a bow.  But I still can’t imagine why this bit of snow would send you running home, if you follow me.”

    Alexander smiled.  “Our cozy little village is protected on two sides by very large hills, but out where the good hunting grounds are there is little protection from the driving wind and blinding snow.  I’d like to see you shoot an arrow and kill a deer with it when you are unable to see three yards in front of your face.”  He stretched his hand out to the land beyond his village, from where he had just come.  “I’d fancy seeing you out there, Mr. Hornsby, where the snow piles as high as my horse’s knees in an hour’s time.  Where you can watch the icicles form in the treetops.  Where wolves stalk you when you take your meals.”

    Hornsby stared out to the distant and dangerous lands Alexander had just told him about with a look of wonder on his face.  “I’m quite happy where I am, thank you.”

    Alexander only smiled smugly and rode onward into the village, leaving Hornsby with his miserable image of the outside world.  He dismounted and led his horse down the street to the village stable. 

    “Do you suppose we’ll have better luck next time, Firestorm?” he asked the horse as he unbuckled his equipment.  Firestorm offered no response, but wearily sagged his head and twitched his ears.  Alexander gave the exhausted animal a good rubdown and fed him several forkfuls of hay.  “You rest well tonight, you good old friend.”  With a farewell pat, Alexander turned and headed for his home, where he knew his mother, father, and sister were waiting for him.

    He hadn’t gone far when he heard a familiar voice calling his name.  He turned and saw his closest friend, Marcus Fortescue, running in his direction.

    “Alexander!” he cried as he waved his hand above his head.  “Alexander!  Wait!”  Marcus approached with a smile on his face.  “Where’s your deer that you always come back with?  I always look forward to some venison whenever you return from your hunting trips.”

    “Sorry to disappoint you, Marcus, but I couldn’t risk it.  I was bound to get stranded if I stayed out much longer.”  He smiled mischievously.  “I got old Hornsby thinking that hunting land is more dangerous than any other lands this world knows.  Wolves and blizzards are his latest phobia, thanks to yours truly.”

    Marcus laughed along with Alexander.  “I could just see that poor Hornsby sitting at the gate with a hand on his sword at all times, afraid the wolves are going to come out of the woodwork.  You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

    Alexander shrugged and tilted his head to one side.  “In a way, I am.  Not because of poor old Hornsby, but I couldn’t bring any venison back for Grandfather.  You know how much he enjoys it.”

    Marcus’ eyes lit up.  “The Grandfather!  Do you want to go to his cabin tonight?  He’ll be telling his old stories again.”

    “I’d love to, Marcus, but I promised Mother and Father I’d run home as soon as I returned from my hunting trip.  Tell Grandfather I said hello, though!”

    With a promising nod and a quick farewell, Marcus trotted off to some unknown destination.  Alexander buried his hands in his pockets and turned his head against the cold wind that suddenly swept through the village and headed for home.

****************

    “Please, Momma, please?”  Twelve-year-old Rebecca Cadwell looked up at her mother with her wide brown eyes.  “All the other children will be going to Grandfather’s story time tonight!”

    “That’s because the other children have someone to take them to Grandfather’s cottage.”  Lorena Cadwell stood with her arms akimbo, not allowing Rebecca’s protruding lower lip to convince her to change her mind.

    “You could take me!”

    “Your father and I need to stay here in case Lark has her calf tonight.”

    The sound of a door opening made them both jerk their heads around in surprise.

    “I could take her,” came Alexander’s familiar voice.

    “Alex!” Rebecca shrieked as she ran to her brother.  She threw her arms around his waist and jumped up and down.  “Now may I go, Momma?”

    Lorena looked surprised.  She shushed Rebecca and addressed Alexander.  “Did you get a deer that fast?”

    Alexander shook his head.  “There are a lot of blizzards in the north.  They could be here soon.”

    She crossed her eyebrows.  “Then we’re going to need food.  Do you think you’d be able to go back out sometime soon?”

    “Once the cold winds stop blowing from the north I’ll go back.  I was thinking of asking Marcus to come with me.  We could bring back twice as much if he came.”

    “Now can we go, Momma?”  Rebecca was impatiently bouncing on her toes.

    Lorena sighed.  “Okay, but be back before ten o’clock!”

    Rebecca let out a little cheer and ran to get her coat.

****************

    Abraham Haskins was well known in the village for his wonderful story-telling abilities.  He was a very kind man who enjoyed the company of anyone who crossed his doorstep.  He loved to tell the young children stories of when he was a young boy, and all the mischief he would get into.  He took pride in informing everyone his stories were “always true, and I’m not lying about that!”  He offered sound advice to all the youth and adults.  For all these attributes, all in the village dubbed him “The Grandfather”, though his only biological grandchildren were Alexander and Rebecca.

    He sat in his overstuffed wingback chair, absent-mindedly poking at the burning embers in the fireplace.  Something had been troubling him lately, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  Maybe it was the early onslaught of winter weather.  He could sense trouble riding in the winds that brought the snow.  Sometimes he thought, or perhaps imagined, he could hear cries of distress mixed with the whispers of the breeze.  He felt the time was fast approaching.

    Abraham sighed painfully.  He had been teaching Alexander and Marcus marksmanship and swordsmanship, but he had told them it was simply for their recreational purposes and to give an old man something to do.  In reality, he was preparing them for a journey he was now too old and fragile to take.  He hated to thrust them into danger’s path at such a young age, but he knew it could not be avoided.  He stood up and paced around the room.

    “Runach Duthaich has come to realize it needs leadership,” he said to himself.  “Its much-missed king still has not been found, and the people are panicked.  No one in Manelta believes Runach Duthaich exists.  How will I find someone to go and help them?”  He thrust his hands in his pockets and moaned.  “Alexander and Marcus must believe me!”

    He sat back down and thought for a few moments.  Soon he heard children laughing in the distance.  They were coming for their weekly dosage of The Grandfather’s stories.  Abraham opened his door and scanned the crowds of people heading towards his cottage.  He hoped that Alexander and Marcus would be among those who attended.  To his delight, he saw Alexander walking hand-in-hand with Rebecca, followed closely by Marcus.

    No more stories of chasing rabbits, climbing trees, and riding my grandmother’s ponies.  I need to get Alexander and Marcus to believe me.  He opened his door and ushered the giggling and playing children in with a smile on his face and some warm words of welcome.  His gaze lingered on Alexander and Rebecca, brother and sister, best of friends.  I’m never going to forgive myself if something happens to— he didn’t allow himself to finish his thought.

    He slapped Marcus and Alexander on the back in greeting.  “Welcome, welcome!  I hope you enjoy tonight’s story, because it’s true, and I’m not lying about that!”

    “Hullo, Grandfather!” returned Marcus.  “I’m looking forward to hearing it.”

    Alexander only nodded his head with a slight smile.  Abraham noticed the ever-present distant look in his eye.  He could sense that he wished for something more adventurous than the occasional hunting trip.

    Maybe getting him to accept this mission will be easier than I had anticipated, he thought.

    When everyone was seated, Abraham began.  “Good evening, boys and girls!  Are you ready for old Grandfather’s stories tonight?”  The children giggled and snuggled down into their parents’ laps.  “Tonight, I will tell you about a land that none of you have ever heard of, unless your parents have mentioned it in the fairy tales they tell you.  But let me say now that this land is real, not just some mythical place to fill children’s heads with delusions!  Its name is Runach Duthaich, which means ‘Mysterious Land’ in the Old Language.”

    At the mention of the land’s name, many of the adults present groaned.  Alexander, however, was already intrigued and wanted to hear more.

    “It is a land that is part of our world, Manelta, but many people think it doesn’t exist.  Other people believe that it used to, but has since vanished.  No one can find it!  But I know deep within my heart that it is real.  It is filled with strange people, fair-skinned and skilled in many different weapons and ways of living.  The spend much of their time reading on the subjects of plants, animals, farming, fighting, even medical arts!  While they belong to our race, they are different.  You will know who they are if you ever get the chance to meet one.”  Abraham’s eyes lit up and danced as he told the children of these people.  He noticed how transfixed Alexander and Marcus were, but pretended to ignore them.

    “The land itself holds many things that are foreign to the rest of Manelta.  There is a fruit whose flesh is the purest white you have ever seen!  It is called toradh, and it gives off a lighted extract, called las burin, which means ‘lighted waters.’  Las burin tastes very good, and it helps a person’s energy levels to be replenished quickly.  The people of the land also use it in medicines.  Many strange flowers and trees grow in Runach Duthaich as well, and the people have found ways for all of them to serve different purposes.

    “But not all is well in the fair land of Runach Duthaich.  The people are in a state of panic.  They thought they could govern themselves, even though their king had just brought them through great victories and triumphs over the evil people of the land, the Dair.  Seeing that his people were beginning to turn against him, even if it was for no good reason, King Liam allowed the people to choose whether he should go or stay.  Their votes were cast, and the majority wanted him gone.  With a tearful farewell, King Liam left his people with a promise to return.  His parting words were, ‘If you seek me, you shall find me.  I will not be far!’  To this day, no one knows where he is, and the people are beginning to realize what a mistake they made sending him away.  The Dair, who are the only things in Runach Duthaich that are evil, are regrouping in the mountains.  Without their leader, the people do no know how to fight the Dair.”  At this point, Abraham broke into a sweat and his voice became agitated and nervous.  “If the Dair’s leaders—Bargor of the South and his ringleader of chaos, General Arkin—strike the land, the people will be destroyed and all hope of finding King Liam will be lost.  If King Liam is not there to stop the spread of the Dair's evil, than things may go ill for the rest of world.  At this moment, some of Runach Duthaich's finest warriors are searching for King Liam.  He must be found before it is too late!”  He stopped when he realized his voice had been raised to a shout.  Several of the children were clinging to their parents’ arms, looking up at their favorite storyteller with wide-eyed expressions.  Their eyes were full of fear at Abraham’s words, but their faces still carried the same innocence as before and held a note of childlike belief.

    Alexander shifted uncomfortably on the floor, his mind full of questions.  Marcus, too, had a curious visage and wondered if The Grandfather had finally cracked.

    “I’m . . . I’m sorry, children, but I cannot continue.  I am too tired.  Have a good night’s rest, and I will see you all next week!”  Abraham wiped the sweat from his brow and collapsed into his fireside chair, exhausted.

    As everyone else shuffled out of the house in awe, Alexander tried to make his way to the front to speak with The Grandfather.  He was stopped by a small but insistent tug at the end of his sleeve.  He looked down into Rebecca’s dark, pleading eyes.

    “I want to go home!” she insisted.

    “I have a few questions for Grandfather.  It will only take a minute.”

    “But what if his answers only raise more questions?  Besides, he is tired.  Can’t we please go home?”  Rebecca sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

    Alexander almost protested again, but he looked at his grandfather, who rubbed his eyes wearily and turned his chair to face the fireplace.  He suddenly seemed so much older and frailer.  Alexander sighed and succumbed to his sister’s wishes.