Page 4 of Aofie's Quest
Epona released me from her embrace and stepped back. She held me by my shoulders and studied my face, her expression unreadable. “Aofie.” Her tone sank into a hushed whisper. “There is something else I must tell you. It is a secret your mother gave to me. You deserve to know the truth before you leave, although I have been reluctant to share it with you, because of the darkness surrounding it. What I tell you, you must hold to your heart and share with no one, for I fear what retaliation it will bring.”
Dread coursed through me as I pulled away and eyed her. Another secret? Something she’d held in reserve? Blood pulsed in my ears and I nodded, thirsting for more words from my mother. Did she have a message for me? Something more personal?
Epona clasped her hands in front of her. “Your mother told me that Conan Mor, King of Men, is not your father.”
Blood rushed to my head, but she continued, her eyes locked on mine. “You are of royal blood, but not of Mor. You were conceived through a trick by a witch woman, who promised your mother she would bear the king a son.”
A son. I was supposed to be a boy. An acidic taste stung my tongue, and the blood drained from my face. My mother went to a witch woman, those in league with evil, who shunned the ways of the gods and dug into volatile power.
“How?” I sputtered, unsure how to react. “Did my father…the king…did he know?”
Epona shrugged, her expression vacant. “The queen would not let him see the color of your hair. She kept you swaddled tight. I know not what she shared with him after they left. It is up to you to find your mother and ask her about these deeds. I cannot say any more.”
I pressed my lips together and crossed my arms over my chest. Why had Epona waited so long to tell me this? All my life, I’d believed the king was my father, but it was someone else? Who? And why would my mother have done such a traitorous thing? I shivered as goosebumps broke out on my arms. The fluttering in my stomach returned with a strong reminder I did not know anything about the world I was about to travel into. My anger and reaction to the news was not Epona’s fault; she only carried the secret. All these years.
Reminders of how the centaurs assumed the kingdom of men was corrupt came back to me. I thought I understood why she’d waited to tell me, but still, the question escaped my lips. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Epona pressed my hand between hers. “There was no reason to, not until now. Aofie, it is not your fault. Remember, you were born, female, with red hair, for a reason. You are special and important, and it is up to you to discover why. Never give in to feelings of self-pity. Do what you did as a child and rise above any negativity that may come your way. You are, and will always be, Aofie of Beluar.”
Her kindness stung me, even though my mind could not comprehend the news. Everything I’d known up to that moment changed. I was of royal blood, but only my mother could explain the reason for my birth. I wondered if she’d left me on purpose, disappointed with her redheaded child, and Epona had only softened the story. Resolve built in me as Epona helped me finish dressing, her presence a calming balm. I wanted to spend more time with her before I left. Words failed me as she fastened the gauntlets around my forearms and fastened the quiver on my back. She handed me a pouch with arrowheads and flint that hooked onto my belt. Finally, she lifted up a pair of gloves, meant to allow me to knock away blows without cutting my skin too deeply. My hands shook when she finished, and a red aura rose from them. I was upset, causing my magic to bleed out.What if?I thought. And then let the thought drift away, gathering strength in the mystery of the unknown.
Sunlight stroked the leaves of the forest as I left the tent, Epona following behind me. Together we walked through the encampment, which was quiet, empty, in the wake of my departure. We arrived at the foot of the gathering, where the trees clustered together, thickening into woods where only those who knew the hidden trails could pass in safety.
The clan of centaurs stood in two lines, creating a passageway for me to walk through as they spoke their final blessing. An ache gripped my heart and I blinked hard to keep tears away. I missed them, I missed them already and I hadn’t even left. This was my home, my heart, and I didn’t know if or when I’d ever return. Suddenly, I wanted to spin around and hold on to Epona, sobbing into her chest—my way of saying goodbye. I blinked hard, knowing tears would be seen as a sign of weakness.
Looking at their faces was too difficult. The older with their dark, kind eyes, the hunters who showed little expression except when dancing under a full moon to celebrate a successful hunt, the young ones I’d grown up with, learning how to fight, training for this very day when I would need to take care of myself.
Mouth dry, I forced myself to walk through the open space between them. They reached out their hands, touching my shoulders, caressing my hair, and wishing me well. A numbness overcame my body and I moved methodically, barely hearing their hushed words of blessing. Doubt filled my heart for the first time. Why should I leave this haven, where the dark angel and his armies could not reach me? I was only one person. What was so special and defining about my birth? Would I be able to make a difference in the kingdom of men?
I was midway through the line when I was drawn out of my musing and squared my shoulders. No time for doubt and misery. I was taking my future into my own hands. The words of the centaurs rang in my ears and memories of my time with them, both beautiful and frustrating, filled my thoughts. I tried to keep it all in my heart as they waved goodbye. The hazy scent of smoke, the taste of fresh berries, and the constant scent of pine and nuts. They waved at me, their forms both elegant and powerful with their swishing tails and hair comprised of all colors—white, gold, silver, chestnut, black…but none were red. I studied them, memorizing the planes of their heart-shaped faces with almond-shaped eyes and square white teeth.
Long fingers reached out; armor flickered in the light. The smaller children laughed and waved with green crowns made of vines and leaves in their hair. The elders stood tall, with spears in their hands. Even their solemn faces cracked a smile or gave me a nod of encouragement. Warmth filled my body as one by one they passed me the supplies I needed for my journey. A bedroll—such a thing was used only by humans; a pack of food—in case hunting did not go as planned; and a folded map of the world—which would only be useful if I knew where I was.
When I reached the end of the line, I faced them and bowed with my hands pressed together, an expression of gratitude. They cheered and clapped, and suddenly Niamh—my guide—was by my side. She led the way, tail swishing, into the woods.
Chapter Five
Niamh did not like me.When I became aware that she had been chosen to be my guide through Beluar, I’d spoken with Epona and asked her to interfere with the will of the elders. She’d told me that sooner or later, I’d have to learn how to deal with people who disliked me, and that although she was my guide, the clans of Beluar were aware of my movements. As we traveled, they would silently watch out for us. I wondered if they were hidden in the trees, watching as Niamh and I moved, silently and swiftly, from territory to territory.
The first week, travel was straightforward. I’d never ventured more than a few days away from the encampment—on hunting trips—but after a week I began to see just how massive and varied the woods were. If not for my traveling companion, I would have enjoyed it. It was difficult attempting to keep up with her long legs and quick pace. Thanks to my training I could run most of the day without growing weary, but each evening I collapsed, exhausted, ready to melt into a blessed rest.
Niamh was sullen, silent, and prone to playing the smallest of tricks on me. She moved my bedroll when I went into the woods to relieve myself, or hid my portion of food when we camped at night. Recalling Epona’s words, I did not show her my distress or confront her, and eventually she grew weary of me and stopped. Still, a silent tension hung between us.
On the eighth day I woke to an uncanny silence. As I tied up my bedroll, I took in our whereabouts. Usually, the smaller woodland animals kept up noise as they moved in the treetops or flitted through the underbrush. The babbling of the river was constantly near, even though we veered away from the banks from time to time. Now, there was nothing but an occasional breeze, not even the chirping of birds. We’d lost sight of the river the evening before, but I hadn’t been worried.
I turned to my companion. “Niamh. Shouldn’t we be following the river?”
She stood with her back to me, her hooves pawing the ground as she ripped into a hunk of dried meat. She glanced at me, her flaxen hair brushing against her sallow cheeks. “Do you trust me to be your guide or not?” she snapped.
I frowned, annoyed by her hostility. Still, I tried to ease a measured calmness into my reply. “I do. I just wondered about the river. In the vision the gods showed me, I had to follow it.”
“‘In the vision the gods showed me,’” she mimicked and gave a short, barking laugh. “The river dries up here and we have to cross the Vale of Monsters. It’s our last day in the forest. From there you will be on your own in the land of men.”
Vale of Monsters? On my own? I was sure I wasn’t supposed to be left alone in the kingdom of men. Although, now that I thought about, I couldn’t recall whether the elders specified I’d have a guide through the Beluar Woods or as far as the river took me. I was certain it wasn’t safe for me to be alone out there—nor in the woods, but at least here I had the clans of centaurs watching out for me. If I entered an overwhelming situation, all I had to do was call out, and they’d come to my aid. But out there, in the kingdom of men? I didn’t know where I was going, where was safe, or who I could trust!
I scowled at Niamh’s back as I took deep breaths, determined not to let her callous words give me anxiety. Tucking a portion of dried meat into my cheek, I tied the bedroll to my pack and pulled it on my back. I waited, chewing quickly while Niamh finished stuffing food down her throat.
Beyond her, the forest tilted steeply, moving downhill into what must be the Vale of Monsters. A darkness hung over the wood and the air was thick, almost sticky. I swallowed the lump in my throat. There were many unpleasant places in the Beluar Woods; all I had to do was bear it for a short time, and hopefully the vale would be behind us before the end of the day. I opened my mouth to ask Niamh how long the crossing would take, but she finished eating and set off at a quick pace, leading me down into the valley.
