Knight of the Witch

Gamel finds himself trapped in a mysterious forest

11.

The Knight of the Witch

 

Something wasn’t quite right; of this he was very sure.   Gamel stopped his hurried walk through the dark forest and listened.   There were no sounds to be heard, no owls, no late fall crickets, no nocturnal animals scurrying about.   He had walked for what seemed like ten hours, yet the sun still had not risen, nor had the sky above lightened to hint of dawn.

 

The woods were not right, it wasn’t normal.   It was enchanted, and he was being watched.   Oh, he didn’t see anyone or hear a thing except his own breathing and the sound of his feet crunching through the autumn leaves, but he sensed it just the same.   Someone was watching him, studying him, and perhaps sizing him up.

 

Was it her - the lady of his strange dreams?   He almost called out to her, but something held him back.   Was it even necessary?   Could she read his mind?   He thought of a way out of the forest and pictured clearly in his mind his idea of the war against Westmark probably happening at that very moment.   He visualized himself running up the southern road to join his family fighting against the invaders.   He pictured his parents, his sisters, his great aunt Zeatt and uncle Alvis, his cousins and friends and pleaded silently that he might be allowed to help them.

 

But when he opened his eyes, nothing had changed.   With a deep sigh, he began walking down the narrow forest path again.

 

Time passed, and he was unable to tell if it had been moments, hours or perhaps days.   There was just the mesmerizing action of walking in the dark within the woods.

Slowly he became aware of a faint sound, which at first he thought was just his imagination, but it grew gradually louder.   It was the rush of a quickly moving stream.   He pressed forward toward the sound and others joined it, slowly at first.   The sounds of early morning birds singing before the sun rose, the sound of the breeze through the rustling autumn leaves.   Then finally, an odd sound that made him pause for a long moment trying to figure it out.

 

It was a low humming, but not quite humming - it was someone murmuring a song.   He crept forward and after rounding a curve in the forest path he saw the source of the sounds.

 

The path went downhill in a fairly steep drop, to fall along side a rather wide creek flowing lustfully with water.   In a clearing at the edge of the stream, an elderly woman in tattered gray clothes washed equally tattered gray clothes in the stream in the pre-dawn twilight.   She had her back to him, but he could see her skinny, wrinkled arms and arthritic fingers scrubbing her rags in the water, while she softly mumbled a song as she worked.

 

At the other end of the clearing was a huge dead tree that looked as if it had been converted into an odd shanty of a hut.   In front of it was a rag-tag wooden pen with a handful of chickens.   Clearly it was her home.

 

He decided to just approach her without any attempt at stealth.   He was perhaps fifteen feet from her, without her hearing or sensing him, when he finally decided to speak.

 

“Excuse me… ma’am?”   He said gently, but in the peaceful setting, his voice seemed almost to boom.   Her humming tune ended immediately and she turned as quickly as her old withered form would allow.   She was mostly bones and loose flesh, as ancient as the trees with thin straw-like hair, hawk-like nose and skin as gray as her clothes.

 

For an instant she just stared at him, confused, as her cataract-covered pale blue eyes finally focused on him in the dim light.   Suddenly her eyes widened in horror and she let out a terrible shriek of terror, flinging the large river rock she was pounding clean her clothes with, at his head.

 

Her aim was very good, grazing his helmet.   She staggered backwards into the stream, her nearly toothless mouth howling in fright as she backed away from him.

 

“Demon!   Stay away from me!  Away! Away!   You shoo away!”  She cackled, but then her frail footing slipped and she fell hard into the current and immediately it began pushing her downstream.

 

Without hesitation, Gamel leapt into the current, finding the water joltingly cold as he fought with all his might to swim to her in his heavy plate armor.   The stream was moving fast and he could only see the top of her head and a bony arm protruding from the water.

 

It pulled down at him as if even it was enchanted, but he fought against it, paddling and flexing with terrible determination.

 

He grabbed at her hand and pulled upward, causing her head to pop fully out of the stream with a gasping wheeze of breath.   He sacrificed breathing for a moment to push her out of the water, but the old woman was hysterical and clawed and scratched at him with her nails as he tried to push them back to the shore.

 

His foot found the bottom of the stream and he tried to stand up, only to slip and go under, taking her with him.   Kicking up from the bottom, they both resurfaced, coughing and spitting, desperate for air.   As he struggled to force the water from his lungs, he felt with his rapidly numbing feet for footing in the frigid stream.

Sliding on the slick rocks, he managed to stand up, grabbing the old woman around her skinny torso, but she still clawed and hit at his face, though she was now too waterlogged to scream or yell.

 

Her fingernails cut at his forehead and cheeks as she tried to poke his eyes out.   He imagined that she had probably never seen a Drow before, and his dark skin and glowing red eyes in the morning twilight would alarm any first-time viewer.

 

Still, he pulled her with him, thankful that her weak little form did not pose much of a threat to him, except for his eyes, and he tried to keep her at arms’ reach as he got them on shore.

 

“Demon…” She said in an exhausted voice as he dragged her onto the muddy bank.

“Relax, ma’am, I’m not a demon, I’m a Drow; a Dark Elf.”

“Glowing eyes... elves… don’t have… glowing eyes.”

“Drow do, ma’am.   It helps us to see in darkness.   But as you can see from where you scratched me, I am flesh and blood just like you are.”

“Leave me… alone… please.”   Her voice was very weak and she trembled probably from the chill of the river.

“I will, but I need to get you dried off or you’ll die from the chill.”

“No… please… go away… shoo!”

 

He almost laughed at her attempt to simply shoo him away like a skunk or raccoon.

“Ma’am, I’m going to carry you over to your… your house, over there.   That is your house, isn’t it?   In the old tree?”

“Go away… please.”   She pleaded, but her lips were turning blue and he knew he had to warm her up or she’d die.

He scooped her up in his arms and thankfully she was too weakened to fight him, though he could hear her murmuring ‘go away’ over and over as he carried her lightweight form across the clearing to the odd tree-house.

 

It looked to have been a large oak when it had been alive - probably the largest oak tree in diameter that he had ever seen.   Lightning or age had cracked one side into a wide gap, and over this gap she had nailed a heavy leather flap to serve as a door.   He drew this aside and ducked his head as he carried her into the tiny hut.   It was maybe five feet wide, but the interior was surprisingly clean and neat.

 

The interior had been carved somewhat smooth and she had nailed small irregular shaped pieces of wood as hooks and shelves along the side.

 

In one corner she had a large pile of cloth that he determined was her bed, so he took her over there and gently laid her on top of it.   She was now almost unconscious, but still she breathed, so he knew he could still save her.

 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got to get those wet clothes off of you.   I don’t mean any disrespect by this; please understand that I’m just trying to help you.”

 

Whether she heard him or not, he wasn’t sure, but he pulled off the soggy rags from her almost skeletal torso and after rummaging around for a bit, found a tattered brown dress that he carefully slipped over her.   Then he tucked the ratty bedding around her to warm her up.

 

Not knowing how much time had passed since the last time he’d used his Lay Hands ability, he gently touched her forehead and asked Yesh to heal her.   Nothing really seemed to change afterwards, though, but she seemed to stop shivering and her color returned to a somewhat more healthy shade of gray.

 

He didn’t know what to do.   He had to get out of this forest, but this little old woman should not be left alone.   Gamel had no idea who she was, but he doubted that she was associated with the lady in his odd dream, as she had seemed genuinely terrified of him when she’d seen him.

 

He couldn’t leave her like this, as his appearance had caused her the fright that had sent her into the river.   So Gamel snooped around the closet sized hut while she slept.   In the middle was a small clay oven, used apparently for heating.   It was a humorous contraption, for it had an exhaust pipe that went up the hollow trunk of the tree then through a hole in the side.   A few scraps of wood were all that he found near the oven and he put them in and started a fire.

But it wouldn’t provide enough heat unless it had more wood, so he went outside of her hut and looked around.   Nearby she had apparently dragged a few old dead tree branches and one fairly large fallen tree, into a pile on the side of her house.

On an old tree stump was a small, half-rusty hatchet, which he guessed that she used to chop up wood for her tiny oven.

 

Gamel chopped up as much of the wood as he estimated the oven would use for several days and brought back inside several pieces, which he put into her oven.   The old lady was sleeping now, her chest barely rising with breath as she slept, but she seemed peaceful.

 

Slowly the tree-house began to warm and his armor began to dry out.   Though he was rather hungry and his mind raced to what was going on in Westmark, after a while seated on an old wood stool next to the sleeping elderly lady, Gamel found himself nodding off.

 

He slept for a lengthy time, for when he awoke, his muscles were stiff and aching from holding the position for too long.   As he yawned and stretched, he glanced over at the old woman, who now was awake and staring at him warily.

 

“What are you?”  She asked him as he smiled at her.

“I’m a Drow, ma’am.   My name is Gamel; I’m a knight of Yesh.”

“What’s a Drow?   A type of demon?”

“No, we’re a race of Elves that live underground in large caverns.   Well, most of them do.   My father was born in the Underdark, but my mother was born on the surface, as I was.   You must have heard of them - the Duke and Duchess of Westmark and Dullerm?”

 

The lady gave him a blank look, “I don’t know of them, or of the places you’ve mentioned.”

“You’ve never heard of the duchies of Westmark or Dullerm?   Dullerm is just west of here, not far at all.”

“I’ve never heard of them.   I’ve been trapped here in this forest for so long that I can’t even remember the names of the places I once knew.”

“Trapped?   You were trapped here?   What do you mean?”

“By a witch… or a warlock, perhaps.   He lured me in here when I was just a young girl.   I had dreams of him, a handsome Elven man with fiery red hair and mysterious blue eyes.   I left my parents and rode until I saw him beckoning at the edge of this forest.   When I went in to find him, he was gone and try as I might, I could not find my way out of here.”

“How long ago did this happen?”   He asked, alarmed.

“Long ago… I don’t know, time doesn’t seem to flow normally here.   I was young when I came here, but I am certain I should have died long, long ago.   I would guess that I have been here perhaps half of an Eon.   Maybe longer.”

“Five hundred years?!”

“Yes, and you are the first real person I have seen in this time.   He sends changelings or phantoms to vex me sometimes - the warlock or witch, I mean.   One time they took the form of my parents and called for me to come with them out of the woods.   I followed them, but after a few days they just disappeared and I was lost and alone again.   I imagine you’ll disappear too, won’t you?”

 

“No, I’m not a phantom, ma’am.   I had a dream of a beautiful Elven lady, with red hair and blue-green eyes, and she disappeared into this forest.   When I went in to it, I could not find the end of it, though I know it could not be very large.   It is enchanted, and I’m now fearful that I too may be trapped here.   I desperately want to find a way out, for my parents are defending our home from an army sent to destroy it.”

 

“Where did you say you were from?”

“Westmark, but also from Dullerm, both are lands my parents hold.”

“My home was village of Dunto… have you heard of it?”

“There were ruins of a town up in the mountains in the southwest part of Northmarch that is called Dunto’s Bane.   It was destroyed by a mad wizard many centuries ago, I am told.   Could this have been your home?”

“Perhaps it was; Dunto was in the mountains.    We were a small village of sheep herders and were subjects of the High Dwarven King of Hammerforge."

 

Gamel was amazed:   The Dwarves of Hammerforge had not ruled these lands for over 1,000 years.

“You have heard of the Faesidhe Elves?”   He asked her.

The lady’s eyes widened, “Aye, they are the masters of the West forest and on loose terms with the Dwarves.”

“Ma’am, the period of time you are talking about ended more than 1,000 years ago.”

 

The old woman thought about it for a long time, shaking her head slowly.   Finally she said, “Well, at least now I know.   Time doesn’t flow right here.”

 

“We’ve got to get out of here!”   He exclaimed.

“There is no way that I know of; believe me, I have tried.”

“There has to be a way!   If we are enchanted and kept here, there must be a way to counter that enchantment.   Have you ever seen the warlock or witch since you were trapped here?”

“No, all dreams of him stopped once I entered the forest.”

“Have you seen anyone at all, other than the phantoms?”

“No… no-one that was real.   I don’t think you are probably real either.”

“I’m real, ma’am.   I’m going to find a way out of here.   For both of us.   I don’t want to be trapped here.”

“How?”

“I don’t know… yet.”

“I am too old, I won’t be any help.”

“It’s alright; I won’t leave you here.   I swear this to you, ma’am.   I will take you with me.   I won’t leave you here alone.”

“Really?”  Her eyes filled with tears, “I’ve been alone here for so long.”

“I promise.   Yesh will show me the way.”

“What if He doesn’t?”

“He will.   I know He will.”   Gamel tried to sound very confident, but in his heart he was very worried, “You just rest, ma’am, and I will sit here and try to figure out a way.”

“Well, you certainly are no demon.”  The old lady said and with a toothless smile, she closed her eyes and fell asleep again, leaving the young knight time to think.

 

***

 

Gamel sat for a long period of time, though he was certainly not sure just how long.  Everything had a strange, dream-like feel to it and yet he was able to ponder the possibility that he was in fact dreaming.

 

But it wasn’t exactly like a dream either, and he wondered then if perhaps he was under some sort of enchantment or illusion that seemed remarkably real.   He felt that was possible, with the strange ‘appearance’ of the forest in an area where no forest should have been, as well as his seemingly endless walk through it, only to find the strange old woman who claimed that they both were trapped in a magical woods.   It all felt very strange to him, very unreal, and that meant that somehow he could escape it.

 

If the elderly lady was also flesh and blood, he’d help her escape it as well.   But how could he do this?   He had walked for miles - at least that was how it had seemed- and had not gone any noticeable distance.

 

For a time he quietly prayed to Yesh for wisdom, and the thought abruptly came to him that it was the river.   They had to cross that river.   He didn’t know how he knew this, but he did somehow.   Though it had seemed just a large stream to him, now in his mind it was a fierce river and the way out of the enchantment was only by crossing to the other side.

 

He waited a long time for her to awaken again, and when she did, it was very late afternoon.   The sunlight seemed to be fading from the sky when she again roused.

 

“Are you still here?” She asked, looking at him as if he’d just disappear at any time.

“Yes ma’am; I told you I would not leave without you.”

“There is no way to get out of this forest.”

“Have you tried the river?”

“The river?”

“Have you tried swimming across it… ever?”

“I can’t swim, and it’s always too deep and strong " there is no place to ford it.”

“So you have never been across that river?”

“Well… no… why?”

“I think that is the way out of this forest.”

 

The old lady sat up in her bed, excitedly, “You do?!   The way out?!  How do you know?”

“I prayed and God revealed it to me.”

“He did?!   He told you it was the way out?!”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Then we have to try it!   But how will we get across - it is too swift.   Perhaps you could make it, for you are young and strong, but I would never get across.”

“I’ll carry you upon my back… or I’ll find something for you to float upon.”

“We’ll drown!”

“No… no I don’t think so.   I don’t know how I know this, ma’am, but somehow everything isn’t quite what it seems.   Maybe it is an illusion or something.   Maybe it is real, but perhaps the river isn’t as swift as we see it to be.   I don’t understand it, but I know we have to try to cross it if we want to get out of here.”

“You think we can make it across?”  She asked; a glimmer of hope in her old eyes.

“With Yesh’s help, we can.   Will you try it with me?”

 

To his relief, she nodded and minutes later he helped her prepare for the ordeal.  He had her wrap herself in layers of clothing to better insulate her from the chill of the river.   Gamel found a large flat piece of driftwood that the old lady had scavenged and stacked in her woodpile.    He brought the wood to the edge of the stream and sat it on the bank.

His idea was to use it so they could hold on it, then he would paddle with his legs with all his might to get them across the strong current.   The driftwood should at least keep them both from drowning; he thought as he led the old lady down to the edge of the river and explained his plan.

 

She patted him lightly on the shoulder and grinned toothlessly, “I would have never dared try this, young man.   I am terrified of drowning, Sir Knight, but I have not had any hope for so long, so I am willing to risk it.”

 

Gamel placed her completely on the piece of driftwood, and then removed his plate armor so he could move more freely.   These he wound up in his cloak and sat them next to the old lady.  With little effort, he pushed the make-shift raft out into the stream.   It seemed much wider and the current was almost certainly stronger than before, but he was not surprised.

 

The current immediately tried to pull the raft downstream, but he held it in place as he waded deeper and deeper into the stream.   Finally he had to swim, and so grabbing onto the edge of the raft, he began kicking with all his might, trying desperately to cross the stream.

 

But it wasn’t exactly a stream now but a mighty river, and fiercely cold.   The elderly woman lay on the wood, terrified of the power of the water.   His kicking moved them forward, but they were also going down stream and so their path became diagonal.

“You never told me your name.”  He said to the old lady as he strained every leg muscle trying to push them across the frigid stream.  

This relieved some of her fear for a moment as she answered, “Valimai is my name.”

“It is a beautiful name.” He replied, gasping for air as the cold water numbed his body, “That is a type of flower, isn’t it?”

“Yes… you are weakening, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, because he knew he was, instead, he began kicking with all his might, barely feeling his legs.

“How… near… are we?”  He asked her a few minutes later when he felt like he could go no further.   He knew they had drifted downstream, but he sensed they were not far from the other bank.

“We are almost there - but we’ve drifted and the bank is too far away to get to shore.   There are tree branches from the far shore over our heads now.”

“Can… you… reach…them?”  He gasped, praying that she could.

“I think so.”  She stretched her bony arm out and suddenly Gamel felt the driftwood stop in the water.

“Hold... it…” Using only his arms - since his legs were numb- he pushed himself up onto the raft.   The shift of weight caused Valimai to lose her grip on the branch, but Gamel quickly grabbed another limb.

 

For a long moment he just hung onto the branch and focused on trying to warm his legs and feet enough so he could stand.

“Sorry…” Valmiai said to him.

“It’s alright… I’m going to try… to pull us close… to the shore.   If I get us close enough… I want you to jump to the shore.”

She nodded and he slowly went to his knees and began pulling them -inch by inch- toward the wooded shore.   The water tried to fight against his muscles and the raft, but the young knight was up to the contest and after a weary battle lasting many minutes, they were only a few feet from shore.

“I think I could get across.” The old lady told him as she crawled over toward the edge of the raft nearest the bank.   She started to stand, but the raft shifted slightly and she stumbled back, almost falling into the water.

“Are you alright?” He asked, unable to let go of the branch to check on her.

She didn’t answer but simply tried to stand again, and she was successful this time.

“How will you get to shore?   If you let go of that branch, the raft will float away.”

“I’ll find a way.  Just be careful, don’t worry about me.”

“Alright” She responded and with a deep breath and a few moments of hesitation, she very gingerly reached across the gap between the raft and the shore and grasped one of the smaller branches of a tree on the bank.

 

Gamel held his breath as she finally found enough courage to step across, but she made it and turned back to him with marked relief evident on her face.

He knew he would have to let go of the branch and jump across, so he got to his feet, which caused the raft to pitch slightly, sending his plate armor and cloak into the rapids.

Gamel just watched them disappear with frustration.   Thankfully his sword was still strapped to his back, and so he forced himself to focus on getting to shore.

 

There was no strategy he could think of to make it any easier, so he just tried to pull the raft as close to the bank as he could and instead of jumping across, he simply swung his feet over.

 

The driftwood raft quickly floated off, but he was on the other side, and sank down to his knees in the cold mud, his arms feeling like lead from the excursion.

 

Gamel looked around for Valmiai, but she had vanished, which somehow didn’t surprise him at that moment.

“This is crazy” He said aloud as he knelt there, resting, “Who is doing this to me and why?”

“It was a test” There came the voice of Valmiai from somewhere, but her voice seemed different somehow, “You have passed the test, and I am very glad.”

 

As soon as her words faded, suddenly everything around him shimmered and also faded away.   He glanced around wildly, for he was now somewhere else.   He recognized the setting at once: it was the eastern edge of the Faesidhe forest, just west of Westmark.   He could tell it wasn’t just another illusion, for his every sense told him that he was indeed home.  

It was very early morning and he was looking back toward the city.   A massive army could be discerned in the distance, pressing forward, as the distinct sound of battle reached his ears.

 

Jumping to his feet, he was amazed to find that not only were his limbs not weary, but he was not wet from crossing the river, and he wore his suit of plate armor.   It had all been some sort of dream or illusion.

 

He didn’t have time to reflect on that now, though.   Pulling his sword from his scabbard, he ran toward the sound of battle, hoping he wasn’t too late.

 

 

Reviews

[Elina]

"...not only was his limbs not weary..." This should be "were" rather than "was."

This was a really neat chapter...I quite enjoyed it!

[Eddie Davis]

Thanks, it was a chapter that actually surprised me as well, as I had thought the story was going in a slightly different direction, but this chapter was a pivot point to send it down a variant road.