Chapter 22
The Pass
Ejan controlled Ragna’s body as it fell, the weight forcing her to the ground. She struggled to roll him onto his back, tears running down her face and made tracks down her dusty cheeks.
“Raggy, no,” she cried.
Elora rushed to her side, taking Ragna’s huge hand in hers. “Please don’t die,” she muttered. His fingers twitched in hers, then his eyes slowly opened. They went from hers to Ejan’s where they stayed. He attempted to smile but pain twisted it into a grimace.
“Such, beautiful hair,” he whispered, trailing his hand down his wife’s blonde plait. Her own hands lifting away the cloak so she could inspect the wound. “Leave it. The head’s stuck well into my belly.” He coughed up more blood then, Elora wincing with the pain he must be feeling. “Didn’t think it’d be an arrow that did for me.”
“You’re not done for,” argued Ejan, the words tempered with grit.
“Course I am, wench, nobody lives from an arrow in the gut. Might take days for me to pass into the halls of Valhalla, but that’s where I’m heading.”
Elora wiped the wetness from her eyes. “There must be something we can do. Are there healers in Aslania?” she pleaded, but understood from the sad look in Nat’s face that it wasn’t to be.
“You’ll be leaving me here,” said Ragna. “I’ll only slow you down and die anyway. Tell them Diagus, make them see sense.”
Elora clenched her teeth as she watched the Shadojak kneel beside Ejan and place his aged hand upon her shoulder. Her head dropped, she knew what he would say, but before he spoke Elora jumped to her feet, a fury racking her, fuelled by the injustice of it.
“If Ragna stays, then I stay. If you let him die, then I’m going to walk back over to that Colonel and hand myself in. I’ve had enough of people suffering for the sake of me. I’m not worth it.” Bray gently touched her arm and she shrugged him off. “If we make it to Aslania, if we destroy Solarius then there’s a chance we can give Earth its magic back - give electricity back to the world. If that happens then the hospitals will be working.” She pointed at Ragna’s wound, at the shaft now black with blood. “In a hospital that could be treated, with doctors and with anti-biotics he would live.”
She watched Ejan raise her head, hope mingling with tears as she, along with the rest of the group, looked to Diagus.
“I was about to say before you interrupted, that we’ll take Ragna with us as long as there’s life left in his body,” said Diagus, rising to his feet, but not before Ejan squeezed his hand.
“Snap the shaft and bandage up the wound the best you can. There’ll be mountain cats and snow jubbs about, and they’ll smell the blood,” he continued, then dropped a small block shaped object, wrapped in paper, onto Ragna’s lap. “Willow bark, for the pain”
“I’d rather whiskey,” grumbled Ragna.
Within an hour they were back in the saddle, Bray and Ejan having struggled to get Ragna atop his horse. It was clear to Elora that he was in immense pain, yet he fought not to show it for Ejan’s sake.
They began the ride up the foothills, the gradient manageable at first but becoming dangerously steep as the night drew closer. The path became rockier and less sure under foot and every time his horse jolted or made a sudden move, Ragna took in a quickly drawn breath, clutching his wound, a waxy film coating his face.
When the daylight was finally vanquished, and the only light came from the waning moon, partly hidden behind black clouds, Diagus brought them to a stop and set up camp. If you could call it that. The Shadojak forbid a fire and the horses were hobbled so it was more of a prolonged pause than a camp. The men took turns to watch in pairs whilst Elora and Ejan kept Ragna as comfortable as possible. Making him sip water and feeding him willow bark. When he finally fell into a fitful sleep, Ejan spoke softly.
“Thank you,” she said. “For what you did down there. I was sure Diagus would have left him,” she kissed Elora on the forehead, then placed another softer kiss on her husband.
“I was sure he was going to leave him too. But I meant what I said, nobody should suffer because of me. I can’t imagine what I would do if Bray got injured and he’s got freaky elf genes that make him heal quick.”
Ejan smiled. “Yep, he would have healed already from this.” She nodded towards the cloth wrapped around the base of the shaft, blood already turning it black. “What’s the story between you two now? Are you an item?”
Elora was glad the darkness hid her reddening cheeks. “We haven’t had much time together, but I suppose we are boyfriend and girlfriend.” She caught sight of his silhouette, sitting atop a boulder, chatting quietly to Otholo, but felt his gaze upon her every now and then.
“You’ve found a good one there and he must think the world of you to quit his life as a Shaigun. He’s a definite keeper,” said Ejan, absently stroking the curls in Ragna’s hair.
“I won’t let him go without a fight. How did you and Ragna end up at Rams Keep?”
“We were on a raid, coming south of the border - for no other reason than to get one back on the Empire. They’d destroyed most of my hometown, in the winter before, so we wanted retribution. I was swollen with child at the time - Jaygen. Ragna pleaded with me not go with him, but where he went I went.” She shook her head, looking longingly at her husband. “It turns out the town we attacked were more than ready for us. They had a hundred score of Imperial soldiers waiting in ambush. When we stalked into the town we were attacked. Everything was flashing steel and fire. Amongst the confusion Ragna and I were separated from the rest of the raiders. And whether it was the panic or blood-lust of battle, Jaygen chose that moment to want out of my belly.”
“You had Jaygen in the middle of a battle?” asked Elora, shocked at the revelation.
“No. We fought our way clear, managed to hide out in a cave we found, not too far from the town. But we were tracked by the town’s folk. They surrounded the entrance - what was left of the soldiers and the people, armed with pitchforks and the like and waited for us.
“They bayed for our blood, they would butcher us and string what was left on the town’s gate as an example to others. Yet none could get passed Ragna. He perched himself between the walls where the cave was narrowest and killed each man that entered, while I was busy screaming to Odin to get this bleeding baby out of me.” Ejan slapped the steel head of the Fist that lay to her side. “Ragna held them back all night, must have killed thirty or more, for the dead piled up and blocked the entrance. What was left of the men outside tried a different tack and set fire to huge logs and branches, throwing hay on top and attempting to smoke us out.
“Thankfully, rain put an end to that and realising that smoke wouldn’t bring us out - and they wouldn’t come in; fearing death as my wailing must have sounded like torture itself, they called for the local warlock.”
Elora suddenly felt and arm slip around her and Bray’s warm body pressing against her back. He had finished his watch and come to listen to the story. She laced her fingers through his and relaxed into him.
“Jaygen had come into the world by then,” continued Ejan. “Kicking and screaming - he had a right set of lungs on him. Ragna joined me, holding his son and cooing in a way that mellowed him, and myself if truth be told. It was the only time I’d seen tears in his eyes, for all the big brute that he is, he was still soft over his son. Or it may have been the fact that we were trapped with no possible escape and feared for both his newly born and myself.”
“How did you get away?” Elora sat up, so engrossed in the story.
“When the warlock finally came he sealed the cave entrance with a curse. Sealed and bound by a gate, one that if we walked through would deliver us into the heart of the Shadowlands. We stayed in the cave for as long as possible, maybe two days, could be three but Ragan decided that we should go into the Shadowlands with enough strength to fight. So holding hands, me clutching Jaygen to my chest, him grasping this.” She slapped the huge war hammer. “We walked out of the cave. Fortunately for us, the warlock wasn’t as good with his runes as he thought because we didn’t step into the Shadowlands, but upon a strange land with green fields, trees and sunshine; with noisy buildings, monstrous moving machines and metal birds in the sky and so many people. Too many people. But we felt safe, so much steel about but none of it weapons. We were scared at first, in that strange place - a different world from our own, yet it didn’t take long for us to find food, shelter and clothes for Jaygen, even though we couldn’t speak or understand the local tongue.
“It wasn’t long before we were picked up by the police. Ragna had stolen food and clothes from a supermarket then attacked the officers that arrested him. Luckily the Shadojak turned up when he did, before Ragna began using the hammer. Diagus took us to Rams Keep and we’ve been there ever since.”
Ragna stirred in his sleep, lines deepening into a pained scowl as Ejan brushed his hair back from his face.
“He’ll make it,” reassured Elora. “I know he will.”
Diagus woke them before dawn. Grey light crept down the mountainside, fragmenting into a hundred different shades as it bounced from rocks and crags, making shapes from the darkness into trees and wild bushes.
Elora opened her eyes - Ragna didn’t.
“Raggy?” whispered Ejan, urgently shaking her husband, her head resting against his chest.
