Chapter 1: From a Cold Sea

350 61 3
                                    

"And in those days the young men of the Evindel kingdoms did seek out to Quest to the Holy Land, the ancient home of Joachin Hristus, in an effort to push the Manadim from their desert fortresses. For the Jebusin priests of their homelands, caught up in the religious zeal of their orders, did declare to the nobles and the elite of the kingdoms that the People of the Prophet were desecrating the Holy Land with their heretic ways. If the land was to be forever preserved in sanctity, those that sullied its sacred sands needed to be driven back, by force of arms if necessary.

So the kings of Evindelian Ristusia, unified in their desire to see the Holy Land of Ebrahin cleansed of the unwashed Naraban masses, sent out the call for knights to join them in a Quest to the Holy Land of Ebrahin. And, blessed by the Jebusin of their individual lands, the knights did come. From far and wide they came, lone knights on horseback, great legions from the dedicated Orders Militant of the Church of the One God, knights both lowborn and high. All to join the Holy Quest, all come in the name of the One God to battle the Heathen threat of the Manadim. And their path was blessed by the One God."

- from the writings of Horris, High Historian to His Majesty, Lord of the Silver Forest, Master of the Kellen Marches and Protector of the Church, King Frederik of Germanse

* * * *

The waters of the Straits of Hybernus swirled uneasily as the lowered clouds in the sky overhead threatened yet another downpour, their bellies dark gray and full of cold, stinging sleet and rain. It wouldn't take more than a nudge from the biting winds to make those clouds empty onto the steel gray waters of the Strait and even less to force the clouds to yield up their watery horde over the damp and water-logged coasts of western Gaul.

Here and there dim light penetrated the thick layer of cloud to spread its watery illumination over the broken Noran beach of crumbling shale and water-washed gravel that laid at the base of a water-logged ridge of low hills, sparsely vegetated and looking rather forlorn and beaten. And darting through that light, wings held wide, were solitary gulls, keen vision searching the ground and water below for something to eat. Fall or no, storm or fair, the coastal birds had to forage or face death. It was Nature, the great circle of Life.

However, no such concept was going through one bird's mind as it turned to the west, eyes searching the unsettled waves below. In fact nothing occupied its mind, if it had one at all. It was the hunger in its belly that consumed its consideration almost completely. Instinct guided the movements of its long, slender wings to keep it aloft despite the wind and it ignored the smattering of rain that touched it now and again at its height above the wave tops. All it cared about was finding some food.

Thus some movement at the threshold of the beach below, where the sea met the land, rapidly captured its attention. Could it be some crab, mistakenly seeking shelter amongst the pebbles and rocks of the beach? Or an injured fish, cast up by the relenting waves to lay gasping its last on alien land?

Swiftly the gull wheeled lower, watching the movement intently as it dropped closer. This could be the meal that it was looking for. But, as the movement resolved itself into actual figures, the seabird pulled away in disappointment. Whatever they were, they didn't resemble anything worth eating!

As the gull and several of its companions, also attracted by the movement, turned away to again soar skyward, two figures emerged from the choppy sea, one dragging the other laboriously behind it before both fell onto the cold gravel, still half in the frigid water.

But the figures didn't remain in the surf for long. With a groan of effort, one staggered to its feet before reaching down to take the other by the collar. Then, teeth grit with determination, the first dragged the second the rest of the way onto the beach, chains still binding the body's hands and feet as the water-smoothed stones clunked softly with the weight of the limp body being dragged roughly over them. There, satisfied that they had come far enough, the first released its hold to stand, chest heaving, as it struggled to catch its breath.

Elfborn: The QuestWhere stories live. Discover now