Summary – A story of love and sacrifice, of false legends and painful truths. A savage young woman breaks the law of her people by saving the life of an outsider. Unaware he’s already betrothed will she sacrifice all in the hope of an impossible dream?

N.B. – Written in UK-English.

A.N. – My first real attempt at an original piece of writing. It’s not the story I planned to write, but one that wanted to be written nevertheless!

Chapter One: Prey

The Mountain dominated its surroundings, for over a hundred leagues in every direction it stood as King, looking down upon a patchwork quilt of corn and barely fields. A small village would occasionally break the pattern, apologetically. Thick evergreen forests and sweeping meadows, frothy waterfalls and clear lagoons, all cloaked the mountain cliffs, leaving only the craggy grey summit bare. But snow would come soon, and blanket that too.

In the wintry shadow of the Mountain stood a man. A carpenter. He was resting on the gently sloping, grassy pastures at the bottom of the mount, looking up uncertainly at the imposing phenomenon of Nature before him. He glanced back over his shoulder, at the sketchy outline of his home village, which was now just a tiny dot on the horizon. There was safety, and familiarity, and Lynet. He smiled longingly and suddenly remembered exactly why he had set out to conquer the Mountain.

Raedan swung his shabby backpack over one arm, squared his shoulders against the bitter wind and began his trek. He knew the base of the Mountain well. During the lazy summer days of his childhood he had played with the other boys of his village in the long grass of the meadows, and sometimes they had all swam in the cool, blue water of the hidden lake, when they could find it. But now it was winter and he was alone, the grass was stiff with frost and all the bright colours of his boyhood had faded to grey.

There were too many stories to count about the Mountain, often told by the older members of Raedan’s village to the children. He supposed it was the same everywhere, had they lived by the sea the same stories, with a slightly different twist, would no doubt have been fed to them! Instead of nymphs, mermaids, instead of giants, water demons. Raedan laughed aloud. But it sounded forced and hollow, and made him feel stupid. It had been easier to laugh when he’d been sat in the warmth of the Tavern, surrounded by friends and Lynet’s smiling eyes.

It was one of these stories, which was the cause of his quest. Another concept that sudden made Raedan uneasy. How could he pick and chose which tales to believe? It hadn’t seemed a problem last night, after a few pints of ale, he recalled. Lynet had sighed wistfully, and then said how much she longed for winter to make way for spring, so that she could see the flowers again. One of Raedan’s friends, he’d forgotten who, if he had remembered he would have dragged them along too, had recalled the story of the everbright flowers, which were said to grow high upon the Mountain all year around. Raedan did remember how Lynet’s face had glowed with delight, and how he’d volunteered to fetch one of the mythical flowers for his betrothed.

He kicked a pebble along the beaten track in front of him, scowling. Only Lynet would actually make him carry out his rash promise, he thought angrily, and perhaps unfairly. He would miss a full day, probably more, of work, and then it would be her who complained when he was forced to delay their marriage. He gained a perverse crumb of satisfaction from this thought, and then suddenly realised that he’d left the familiar trail behind.

She had been watching him, mesmerised, for hours. Eira had never seen one of ‘them’ make it this far up her mountain before. Of course, she knew it sometimes happened, but she was young and had never experienced it firsthand. She knew she should go and fetch someone, she would be in trouble if they ever found out she hadn’t, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from her spectator’s sport. She had seen their infants, playing in the lower regions before; that was permitted. But she had never seen one of their men.

From her perch in the treetops she tilted her head like an inquisitive bird and followed the stranger with her dark eyes. He was tall, certainly taller than her, but probably also taller than most of her people. However, there was something wrong with the way he moved, to her his body seemed sluggish, clumsy, he made too much noise when he walked and too little effort to avoid harming the plants around him.

Around midday he stopped by a small stream, which wove its way through the roots of the trees. Eira held her breath, fearful that she’d somehow given herself away. But he simply bent down, cupping his hands, and drinking from the trickle of pure water. She watched him sit on a bed of fallen needles beneath a large pine tree and pull some food out of the bag he was carrying. After eating his fill, he dozed peacefully.

For Eira the temptation of a closer look at her specimen was too great to resist! She swung silently from the tree, and dropped onto the ground before him. She froze, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest until she dared to go further forward. His sandy hair fell nearly to his shoulders, but his face was clean-shaven, although it was scratched and a little bruised where the lower, supple branches of the trees had caught him unaware. His mouth was partially open and Eira caught herself smiling a little when she saw that one of his teeth was slightly chipped. She crept nearer still, until her face was less than a fingers-length from his. He murmured something in his sleep and she flew back, away from him, ready to dart up the nearest tree, but he merely turned over onto his side. Eira slowly crossed her legs beneath herself and sat down, watching over the invader as he slept.

When he finally woke Eira had already retreated to the safety of her trees. Morning had long ago turned to afternoon, and now even the weak light, which had managed to fight its way through the canopy and create an odd spattering of colour on the forest floor, was fading too. After a few more hours Eira’s curiosity began to turn to concern. She had expected him to turn back long ago, but he kept on climbing. Tired as he was, and she could see was already tired again, by the slump in his shoulders and his frequent stumbles, he wouldn’t stop! She’d be missed if she didn’t turn back soon herself, but still she stayed, not trusting the man to be left alone.

Dusk fell, and she followed by instinct rather than sight. He didn’t stop to set up camp, and she began to worry for the stranger’s sanity. The wooden spear that she always carried with her was held tightly in her hands, but she had seen no weapons on him. So she gave up scurrying through the branches of the trees and sprang, catlike to the ground to continue her vigil.

The air was freezing! Raedan shivered violently and wondered if it was snowing above the treetops, perhaps only the thick branches were warding off a blizzard! It was like another world under the trees. All day he had been experiencing the strangest feelings of safety, as if some unseen force was protecting him!

And then without warning, the shadows around him began to move, and all the old stories told to frighten little children returned to him. He could hear the soft padding of footsteps on the other side of bushes and trees; something was out there! Following him. Tracking him. Hunting him. Raedan gave a sardonic snort, born of fear, and he hadn’t seen so much as a singe flower!

A wolf howled behind him, and was answered by another to his right. The blood curdling cries echoed all over the Mountain. Panic began to set in, Raedan started running; the Mountain wasn’t sheer, just a continually upward slope. But soon the howls were all around him, closing in, white fangs flashed in the dark, something clawed at his foot and he fell heavily to his knees. Raedan’s exhausted body refused to cooperate with the adrenaline pulling through his veins. He slumped forward, welcoming unconscious oblivion, just as something’s hot breath tickled his neck.

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