Book Title: White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Author: Irina Lopatina
Genre: Fantasy
Book Blurb:
The fate of Areya rests with the lost sword Urart. Will White Raven retrieve it before it's too late?
In the kingdom of Areya, humans, animals, and the magical creatures that inhabit the Eternal Forest have long coexisted peacefully, but now something is horribly wrong. A terrifying stream of monstrous creatures has begun to emerge from the secret depths of the earth, terrorizing all of Areya's native inhabitants. From the tiny, wise drevalyankas to the bellicose cave-dwelling gnomes to the devious kikimoras who gather roots and herbs in the marsh, everyone is in danger.
With the aid of Urart, the magical sword that has been passed down from the time of the ancient northern ancestors, Grand Duke Vlady can offer temporary protection to his people. But Prince Vraigo, Vlady's nephew, who is endowed with magical power himself, understands that the source of the evil monsters must be found if there's any hope of survival. Along with a motley crew of his forest-dwelling friends, Vraigo sets off on a perilous quest in search of the koschei, the powerful, corrupt Archmagus whose mission is the destruction not just of Areya, but of the entire world.
As if this weren't bad enough, Urart disappears from the duke's stronghold. Without it, Areya is doomed, and only Vraigo, the White Raven, can possibly get the sword back. This journey requires Vraigo to use all of his keen wits and magical abilities, as well as to ally himself to dangerous creatures like yagas and werewolves, natural enemies of man, and precipitates the young prince into the most bewildering, complex challenge he has faced yet: life in the twenty-first century.
Excerpt
Prologue
The Voevode, Baday, was fiddling with his thick wheaten moustache, continually biting it and pulling it with his fingers. He would be much more comfortable if those were either his brave men-at-arms in front of him ready for the training battle, or even the Grand Duke himself who decided to show his daring.
But they were three boys, three young princes, with their light brown shaggy heads thrown back, standing in front of him that morning, the three princes who were about to compete to prove they were ready to advance to the next stage of military training. Each year, the boys were determined to find the strongest among them.
Baday was unusually gloomy and worried about the impending duel; to him the outcome of the battle was as transparent as water in a stream and promised no good for anybody. First, there was Tagas, the elder son of Vlady the Grand Duke, a sturdy chap of twelve winters, who in a year or two would be quite ready to become his father's right hand. There was his brother Seles, the second son of Vlady, always following his elder brother, like a tail feather with an arrow or smoke with fire. While there was also a younger son, Rohan, he was still quite a small child, and not at this lesson today.
Baday's dismal mood this day was because of the third prince who was present, Vraigo by name, whose grey crazy eyes were flashing at him in the morning sunlight. The son of Vlady's perished brother, Vraigo would certainly beat the Grand Duke's sons again.And as a result of such a thrashing, Baday realized, Tagas would grow furious and Seles would scheme against Vraigo, behavior that did not befit the Grand Duke's sons. Baday heaved a deep sigh, surveyed the stubbornly bent heads, and announced in a deep bass voice: "All of you remember, it is quite enough to seize the sword of your adversary in order to win a victory."
"But the real battle does not end with that!" immediately blurted Seles. "Until a fighter has his hands and legs cut off, he----"
"If a fighter can lose his sword, he can easily lose everything else!" growled Baday. "Don't debate, prince, or else everybody will consider your tongue your main weapon. Start the battle! The winner of the first fight will combat in the next one."
Tagas, like a bull-calf, kicked the earth with his foot and ran towards the trampled dueling ground. Bending under the weight of a training sword of brittle steel, much heavier than a fighting sword, and a shield with the family blazon----- a big raven stretching out its strong wings against the Eye of Day----- Seles followed his brother. Pitted against Tagas' strength and pressure, Seles was a worthy adversary for the shiftiness and deftness of a wild cat, one that doesn't expect to win a victory but is always ready to torment its rival. Seles began rushing over the ground trying to beat off the adversary's trenchant blows, diving and jumping up, so both Vraigo and Baday unwittingly started stamping their feet and clenching their fists.
"Attack him!" Baday could not contain himself. "Seles! I wish a bear would catch you! Attack your brother or lay down the sword!"
Seles let his mind stray from the duel just for a second and was thrown off the fighting ground by a vigorous blow. He rolled over the tough earth, dropping his weapon and hissing through
Prologue
clenched teeth. As he watched, Vraigo stopped stamping his foot for a moment, squeezed the handle of his sword more firmly and looked at Baday:
"My turn now?"
"Yes! It's time for Tagas to give a thrashing to the forest puppy!" impatiently yelled beaten Seles.
"Prince!" Baday barked to Seles. "Beat your enemy, but never lose face!"
Tagas bent his head still lower as Vraigo guardedly moved toward him. Two winters younger than Tagas, half a head shorter, Vraigo had always been a strangely silent boy, who preferred to live a vagabond life together with the forest dwellers instead of living quietly and comfortably among his people in the Duke's Stronghold. Druids and drevalyankas were his closest friends, but Vraigo also felt more at home even with less admirable types of forest-dwelling magical creatures like rusalkas, mermaids, kikimoras, werewolves, and wood goblins, than among the people he was born to. Maybe, thought Baday, it was just as well.
Meanwhile, Vraigo had already taken his step out onto the dueling ground and Tagas immediately made a dash towards him. A heavy blow fell upon the younger boy. Baday gave a start, but Vraigo easily intercepted the blow with his sword, and Tagas, being drawn by his own stroke, nearly fell to the ground. Tagas turned around, moving along a broad arc, howled, and his sword flashed in his hand with lightning speed. Crushing blows fell upon Vraigo, who hardly had time to parry those with his shield. At some point, Baday lost count of the blows. The voevode nervously pulled at his moustache and decided to stop the duel, but before he could speak, something amazing suddenly happened. Not believing his own eyes, Baday saw the younger prince’s shield falling to the ground while his heavy sword flew effortlessly from Vraigo's right hand to his left hand and struck a sideways blow to his adversary's sword. Tagas dropped his weapon and swayed forward, falling on his knee.
"Hah!" Vraigo triumphantly threw up his sword and a sunbeam slid cheerfully along its blade.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
"A-ah!" Enraged, Tagas dashed back up and swooped upon his enemy.
Before Baday had time to move, the boys fell, rolling on the ground with only the crackling of their leather shirts resounding now that their weapons were lay silent and forgotten.
"Worm!" Tagas yelled, enraged. "Swamp touchwood! Werewolf!
You'll remember, remember well, who is the true prince!"
Baday's heavy hand unceremoniously grabbed Tagas's nape and raised the kicking prince above the ground.
"Prince!" growled Baday. "You are speaking obscenities! And if the Duke learns of your behavior?" He set the boy down roughly.
Tagas immediately fell silent and, panting, took a step back from Vraigo.
"You saw it all, Baday," he uttered dully. "I almost won, but he did something with my sword! I've always known that he is a werewolf. A child like him could not do the things that are beyond the power of some grown-up warriors!"
"Vraigo." Baday scowled at the boy who was rising, holding his torn shirt collar. "This sword, indeed, is heavier than the usual one. I hope you did not allow magic to enter into a fair fight?"
"Who needs magic to beat Tagas?" Tagas jumped ahead again and Baday had to grab him by his shirt. "I just threw my sword from one hand to the other. And what of it?" Vraigo calmly took his sword and threw it here and there. "The fallen trees of forest abatises and the stones in gnomes' caves are much heavier."
"So crawl, crawl into your cave! And even better, into the swamp, so kikimoras can tickle you and swamp spirits can stink throughout your body!" roared Seles, Tagas' resentful brother. "Tagas is the strongest of the people! You werewolf!"
"Okay, I'm already crawling away!" Vraigo sneered. He threw the sword down, bowed quickly to Baday, and jumped from the fighting ground.
Field grass soon covered his head, the buzzing of bees echoed in the field along with birds' trills, and the wicked, offensive cries of Tagas and Seles were hushed far away and no longer had any power
Prologue
over Vraigo.
Beyond the field awash with summer light and scents, the Eternal Forest rose like a cool green wall. Here, not far from peoples' settlements, the forest was light, with bark of birch trees showing up white here and there, and elastic pillows of moss. Those who had not wandered far into it could not imagine what thick, impassable swales and dense thickets were hidden in its depths. Nor could they imagine what beings were sometimes able to emerge from the forest into the sunlight. For Vraigo, the forest was much easier to understand than the complexities of life in Stronghold. All the Eternal Forest's inhabitants had their own languages that the boy quickly learned to understand, and whether they were forest people like druids, larger animals, birds, or small magical creatures, with them one could always solve a matter peacefully. And as for the vicious ones----like werewolves and pikshas-----he knew just simply to stay away.
However, last winter half-forgotten, long-unseen monsters, much more mysterious and frightening than the familiar werewolves and pikshas, had begun to appear in the forest again and disturb the residents. Thoughts of these strange, threatening beings were far from the mind of the young prince on this bright morning as he made his way into the forest.
The forest fascinated and attracted Vraigo not only because of the friends he found among the native forest inhabitants, but also because of an amazing person, the magus named Agar, living in a newly built, deliciously tar-smelling hut beside a narrow sleepy stream. Nobody knew from whence he came nor how he had arrived in Areya. No one knew on what subjects he and Duke Vlady spent long hours of conversation. They only knew that here was where Agar's path ended. The Duke had permitted Agar to settle near Stronghold and would often stop at the hut by the stream during his rides. The Duke's friends and people were very surprised by this, as Duke Vlady never kept magi around him, instead ridiculing their art in every way. And yet it seemed that Vlady recognized Agar as a truly gifted magus. His small home was quickly filled
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
with strange, unheard-of things, and in the crown of a tree above the roof of the magus' hut, a whole family of drevalyankas settled down. The other forest-dwellers were extremely surprised by this, because drevalyankas, which are known to possess magic powers themselves, were shy creatures that would normally avoid meeting people.
And Agar himself was not like Vraigo's other acquaintances. Tall, with very white hair, he sometimes seemed to the boy Vraigo to be an extremely old man, but he could build a house of heavy logs all alone, and he was so cheerful and laughed so heartily that all the surrounding animals enjoyed coming around his home just to be near him.
Each morning, after his mandatory training on the fighting ground, Vraigo would run headlong to Agar's cabin. Completely different classes began there and the magus did not drive away the curious boy who so enjoyed the old man's presence. The prince gladly carried water, pounded fragrant herbs in a mortar, and murmured the strange words staring at him from old, tattered scrolls.
The thought of Agar immediately calmed Vraigo. He ceased to clench his bleeding lip, and, jumping over the trunk of a birch almost bent to the ground after a recent rain, he found himself in the forest. How nice it was to run over the forest floor, feeling springy moss under a fine boot! Vraigo sometimes thought that he could spend all day this way, picking berries in handfuls on the run, especially if a raspberry bramble happened to appear on his way as it did now.
Getting out of the prickly bushes, the boy grabbed a branch and stopped as if rooted to the ground. Aha! He was already lucky: from behind the neighboring tree, shaking its massive cockscomb, a bright red rooster was emerging. This rooster will be a fair catch, Vraigo thought, since it must have wandered away from its human home. Of course, Agar will reproach me until he learns the bird is not stolen, but what delicious soup the magus will have today! Without hesitation, the prince took off his shirt and quietly walked towards the bird. One step, another one-----it was important that no
Prologue
twig, no cone, crack under his heel. The boy was about to throw himself onto the rooster, when the rooster suddenly roused himself and then jumped from behind the tree.
"A-ah!" yelled Vraigo, recoiling in horror and almost falling down.
The comb-topped moving head of the cock was attached to the strong body of a toad with the long tail of a serpent that the creature continuously swept upon the ground. The beast immediately turned to Vraigo, opening his strong beak and screaming, seeking revenge on the small human who had disturbed it. At the last possible second, the prince managed to throw his shirt onto the creature, hiding its dead black eyes, and straightaway showed his heels going in the opposite direction. He was running slapdash, scaring forest-living creatures with his screams of fear.
"Basilisk!" shouted Vraigo. "There's a basilisk!"
He continued yelling and dashing toward Agar's cabin until strong hands intercepted him, raising him slightly above the ground to stop his progress.
"Prince!: Agar exclaimed, looking at his student's scratched face. "What are you doing? You scared the drevalyankas, and to tell the truth, even I was a bit frightened."
"Basilisk!" the embarrassed boy repeated. "By the first edge of the raspberry brambles...."
"You fought a basilisk this morning?" Agar asked with a faint note of incredulity.
"Well, Agar!" Vraigo frowned and stamped his foot. It's not a joke! I barely managed to throw a shirt over him to keep him from looking at me.†He shuddered, looking back over his shoulder
"Stay here," ordered the magus, pushing the boy toward an old birch tree. "Not one step from this place." He dove under low branches and seemed to melt into the forest.
"Agar!" desperately cried Vraigo. "There really is a basilisk, and you're unarmed!"
The prince wanted to follow his teacher, but his feet seemed stuck to the thick birch root where the magus had left him, and
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
something began to ache in his chest, splashing like icy spring water. Suddenly in the distance, among the lush foliage, lightning flashed, flickered, and then faded up into the sky rather than toward the earth. A few long moments later, Agar appeared from behind the trees. His eyes, cheerful as a rule, were concerned, and in his hands he was clutching Vraigo's shirt with a tattered collar and with a thick black spot on the sleeve.
"A basilisk almost came out of the forest," he said perplexedly. "How could that happen today, when we have so long believed that basilisks had vanished from the earth? Most old men have not even heard tales of such a creature from their grandfathers? What could a basilisk do in a human habitation?"
"I saw people of stone in one of your scrolls," whispered Vraigo. "It was written that those at whom a basilisk looked...." Vraigo trailed off, afraid to finish the thought.
"Yes, that is true." Agar finally shook himself. "Come on, I must read something immediately. There will be work for you, too." He charged off toward the cabin, expecting Vraigo to stay close behind.
The Eye of Day had not yet managed to reach the peak of the sky when Vraigo, wearing Agar's shortened shirt in place of his own ruined garment, was already sitting at a long table attached to an outside wall of the hut, and carefully pounding a pestle into a mortar. Today the magus had set an unusual task before him, and the boy did not quite believe that he could succeed at it. From the mysterious depths of his dwelling, Agar had extracted a narrow, brittle stone plate, upon which an amazing flower was vividly depicted. Neither in the forest, nor in the field, nor in the underground passages of gnomes, had Vraigo ever seen such a small, tight bud with so many tiny petals, peeping out through the petrified leafage like bright red sunshine.
"What is this?" asked the prince, enchanted.
"The spirit of an ancient flower." Agar, screwing up one eye and then the other, admired the plate. "You shall try to free him....it's enough to crumble up the stone which holds the flower, and add just a drop of magic energy."
Prologue
Momentarily forgetting about the stone flower, Vraigo stared at the teacher.
"But I cannot!" he replied. "The magic mantle did not pass to me and has never endowed me with its energy! I have no way to reach it; I possess no magical ability..."
"How many times have you tried to find this path?"
"I don't know the number."
"Hence, there is nothing wrong with trying again," concluded the magus. "Take the stone, the mortar and pestle, all your patience, and start working."
To argue with Agar was useless-----somehow he was always right-----so Vraigo silently went to the other end of the table and began the chore. He rubbed the unyielding stone, casting sidelong glances at his teacher who was opening tightly rolled scrolls, one after the other, knitting his dark brows, which were totally unexpected against the background of Agar's white hair. A patriarch of the drevalyankas' family was sitting on a low branch near Agar and the magus was repeatedly raising his head as if asking the little creature for advice about something.
It is necessary to say that Vraigo quite envied the magic of these little, bright green, fluffy creatures, which most people thought were just shy tree foxes. In fact, they were natural magi, who knew much more than did people about the past, who could foresee the future, and from whom it was impossible to conceal a single thought in one's head. Drevalyankas had lived side by side with all other forest dwellers from the beginning of time, but, for some reason that no one understood-----unless Agar understood-----in recent years they had almost vanished from the Eternal Forest.
Finally, the stone plate was reduced to a mound of small sharp chips and Vraigo painfully began the real task. Slowly, slowly, squinting from the effort, he began to try to paint the red sunshine flower in his head. But the image was crumbling in his mind; the tight petals didn't want to be picked, and the leaves didn't want to grow. Vraigo's brow was wet with sweat from his efforts, but he dared not move. Agar, rising from his seat, disappeared into the
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
cabin.
The prince, concentrating on his mental flower, did not immediately notice that a man in a dark traveling cloak appeared from behind an old blue fir-tree at a distance from the cabin. He stood motionless in the shadow, but the drevalyanka squeaked, throwing himself quickly up the tree trunk and out of sight, and Vraigo set his eyes upon the stranger.
"Boy!" called the traveler, as if he had waited to be noticed. "How can I see White Agar?"
The prince was about to shout something in response when suddenly a yellow button, tight with petals, floated before his wide-open eyes, indistinguishable from a real living flower. Never before had Vraigo managed to express his desire so precisely, and his thoughts immediately rushed to the flower, but with the corner of his eye he noticed that his teacher had emerged from the cabin carrying a new scroll.
"Alkay?" Agar exclaimed in surprise on seeing the cloaked traveler.
"Greetings to the great, pure Archmagus!" replied the stranger with a vague smile. "Very unexpected encounter, isn't it?"
The fragile image of the flower in Vraigo's head did not let him turn, so he took a deep breath and, as Agar had taught him, he mentally stretched upwards, reaching for the mantle of magic high above. Like a slender thread, twisting and flying, he traveled into the clear blue of the sky, but nothing happened. The prince couldn't reach the energy he needed, although the truly endowed needed only a brief moment of contact with the mantle to become energized. As if from a distance, he heard the teacher and the stranger, who stood by the old fir-tree as before.
"I could have guessed," said Agar quietly, "from the moment when I saw the basilisk."
"Impressive thing," agreed the traveling stranger.
Vraigo felt a familiar weakness lying on his shoulders, and his hands grew cold. Stone dust was floating before his eyes, familiar sounds got distorted—anxiously, a drevalyanka screamed shrilly,
Prologue
and the unpleasantly rasping voice of the stranger kept repeating:
"Did you really think that I could not do that? No, really? But, you know, I cannot get angry at you for long. The road is still open to you."
Suddenly, Vraigo felt as if something picked him up, pulled the prince sharply and highly upwards, and then released its grip on him a moment later. Screwing up his eyes, barely holding back a cry, Vraigo felt as if he was falling down, down, until he fell onto the hard wood table, barely breathing the thick air, and opened his eyes. Astonished, he yelled from the heart:
"Agar!"The magus and the stranger jumped in surprise. "A flower! A little flower! Agar!"
Amid the stone dust, shrouded in a pale glow, a fluffy ball of a flower was lying, the flower that had exploded in Vraigo's mind a moment ago. Grabbing the flower, the boy ran to the teacher, he so wanted Agar and even this strange traveler to see, touch, and feel what he had just created.
"I'm endowed!" shouted the amazed prince, holding out his creation to the magus. "I can reach the magic veil!"
"Of course," replied Agar simply and stroked Vraigo on the head. "Run, show it to your friends. This is happiness, when a new flower appears on the Earth."
"Endowed is good," agreed the rather frightening stranger, staring at the boy.
"Run!" Agar repeated, and unexpectedly gave Vraigo a forceful push. "And be very careful!"
The happy prince flew into the forest, beside himself with joy, and on the edge of the clearing he turned to wave goodbye to Agar.
Vraigo did not have to search for his friends very long. As usual, the young druids played in the branches of a huge ancient oak, which had been the whole world for them since their early childhood. Here it was possible to arrange soft nests, and hang up a swing, to hide oneself in a deep hollow, and to chase each other through the strong, springy branches. All the druids were able to climb trees well; for them it was no different from walking on solid
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
ground. Virtually every one of them had his own tree, which could be any type, and to which he or she was connected by a secret kinship. Living in the forest, each always cared about the trees and even knew how to communicate with all types of trees without using words.
The prince just could not imagine Belsha and Vasilinka, the druid twins, without the oak. He strongly suspected that these little children of the original mother of forest dwellers, Selena, had impressive magical abilities. Otherwise, Vraigo mused, what helped their old oak tree continue growing, branching out and covering itself with a cap of thick foliage every spring?
So today, Vraigo was absolutely happy. He, who had always lagged behind his friends in magical ability and was not able to understand their little secrets, he was now among the endowed! And he was not just any natural magus who was able to find water, cure disease, or make a plant bear fruits. No! He had found his way to the pure magical energy of the Earth, and hence he could create whatever he pleased.
(Well, almost anything.)
"Hey!" cried the prince, running up to the thick trunk of an oak."Belsha, Vasilinka, take a look at this! Come down, quick!"
Two heads, one red and one ash-blond, flashed in the foliage, and the druids easily jumped to the ground, one after the other. Forest-dwelling druids, with all their similarity to people, were smaller and more fragile. Their skin had a pale greenish light, and their hair, usually ash-blond,was shot with green, too. Only in this case, Selena and her daughter Vasilinka's hair was fiery red, flaming like autumn leafage. Vraigo's friends barely came up to his shoulder in height. They noiselessly began moving toward the prince, who instantly realized that his friends had just exchanged angry words. Belsha's countenance was dismal and Vasilinka looked angrily at her brother, her thin brows knitted.
"This is for you!" Vraigo, feeling shy, held the flower out to the girl. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"
"What is it?"The girl gently squeezed the stem. "Where did
Prologue
you get it?"
"It is not real," Belsha claimed, and buried his pointed nose in the bud.
"You stone hump!" Vasilinka knocked Belsha on the head." "It is real; it's just unusual." She looked at the flame-red flower, knelt, and held it near the grass. Like a bird caught up by soft air currents, or like a fish tossed into its watery element, the bud of the unusual flower began moving, reaching down and growing into the ground. A moment later, a real forest flower was peeking out of the thick grass extending to the roots of the oak.
"Wow!" inhaled Vraigo and Belsha at the same time.
"Now, that's not like anything I've ever seen!"Belsha added.
"It is not because of my action." Satisfied, Vasilinka stood up, brushing off her knees. "The flower wanted to grow, as though it had not seen the sun for a long time."
"Exactly!"The prince tried to wave his hand casually, but genuine puppy-like joy was escaping him. Only this morning the flower had been nothing more than a painting on a stone plate!
"Vraigo, did you join with the magic veil?" the girl asked in a low whisper. "Have you realized that you are endowed?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Not waiting for a answer, Belsha enthusiastically thumped his friend's shoulder. "I'll be covered with bark!" he exclaimed, amazed and filled with joy at Vraigo's news. "Well, we can do so many things now! Oh, Vraigo, today at dawn I saw-----
"Stop it!" Vasilinka pulled her brother's sleeve, and turned her pale face to the prince. “How did it happen? But you did not believe in your endowment at all."
But Vraigo did not answer her; like a good hunting dog, he was already thinking of the next adventure. How many such trails to adventure he would find together with Belsha; these paths would take the boys far away from home. This caused the prince instantly to remember the basilisk, whose appearance was also important and stunning news, and he stared at his friend Belsha.
"Did you see an unusual creature this morning?"
"Certainly!" Belsha was bobbing up and down, full of feelings.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
"At dawn, I went to collect the dew so that, as we had planned, we could spread it on the old toad from the foul swamp. I had almost filled a leaf when I noticed him!"
"Was he sitting in the raspberry bushes?" Vraigo specified.
"Why in the bushes?" Belsha was surprised. "No! He was slinking away into a pinery and I followed him."
"This is dangerous," Vraigo admonished. The prince was startled and indignant at his friend's rash action; chasing a basilisk was incredibly dangerous because anything it looked at could be turned to stone. "But do you know what would have happened if he had noticed you?"
"Yes, to those like you, people, who don't know how to walk in the forest! No one will hear a druid! So, I remember where he lay down to sleep, and we can easily go back and get him out into the sunshine!"
"Get out a basilisk?"Vraigo was dumbfounded.
"What basilisk? A piksha! I have never seen such a huge one in our forest, He is bigger than a lynx, than a wolf!"
"You just try to attach yourselves to this unfortunate piksha!" intervened Vasilinka. "He has done nothing wrong that we know of. In fact, nobody seems to have heard of his being around, and so we know he has not attacked either druids or people. He also has the right to live in the forest."
Among the magical creatures of the Eternal Forest, pikshas were one of the most dangerous predators. This dark thing would wander at night in its cat-like way, in search of prey, easily reading and paralyzing the thoughts of his target. Pikshas could simply deprive their victims of energy if they chose, but held particular yearning for their blood. And so, in the people's settlements, terrible legends were told about babies stolen from their cradles by the insidious piksha, and about the travelers in the forest whom he whirled in circles with his hypnotizing thoughts.
The way to do away with a piksha was to push it out of its lair in the day-time, into the sunlight where the nocturnal creature became completely feeble. Therefore, these intelligent creatures long
Prologue
ago moved deep into the Eternal Forest and tried not to disturb vindictive people. The fact that a large piksha had now appeared near human habitation was very strange and disquieting.
"He hasn't attacked anyone so far, but everyone knows pikshas cannot be trusted," Vraigo said, supporting Belsha. "It is necessary at least to take a look at him to understand if he is dangerous or not."
"How can you understand that?" Vasilinka asked with a smile. "Maybe you've learned to read thoughts as well as to make flowers?"
The children had no time to argue. Captured by excitement, one after another, they swept past the druids' huts, then under the reproachful eye of an old druid sitting on the bank of a forest stream, then skirted the pond in which the forest dwellers raised fish, and found themselves in the pinery.
"There!" whispered Belsha. "The big hollow!"
Vraigo instantly realized what he was talking about. One of the low, thickset pines had roomy accommodations for any beast; a medium-sized lynx had spent the last winter there.
"Let' climb and look at it," invited the prince.
His friend eagerly nodded his head. As always at such moments, Belsha's pale cheeks flushed, and his green eyes, usually light like birch leaves, eyes became transparent.
"Just quietly!"he warned. "A piksha has a hare's ear and a wolf's nose."
The thick, smooth trunk of the pine did not present any difficulties for the druid, but Vraigo was heavily scratching upwards with all his might, sticking his fingers into the bark, while tearing the skin of his elbows. Agile Belsha managed by pulling himself with one hand and pushing his clumsy human friend with the other. Finally, the boys straddled a lower branch and cautiously moved on; Vasilinka remained on the ground. The hollow, like a sketchy patch of black, loomed in front of their curious, flushed faces. Not a rustle, not a breath, came out of the thick darkness.
"Are you sure he's there?"whispered Vraigo, already tired of pricking up his ears.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
"He's hiding," Belsha exhaled quietly. He straightened like a column and looked into the hollow with enthusiastic horror.
"He has managed to escape!" the prince whispered, shaking his head. "Was it really a piksha?"
The insulted druid silently reached for a branch, sure he just had to shake it somehow to find the creature hiding in the hollow.
"Wait!" Vraigo suddenly felt inspired. "Now, let's see----"
The prince tightly grabbed the tree trunk, closed his eyes, and mentally darted up. Everything came surprisingly easy-----the mantle of magic accepted him, enveloping him and giving him its energy. Vraigo opened his eyes and he directed a thin ray of blue light, flashing over his head, so that it pierced the black hole. Before the excited boys had time to bend over the hollow, a fierce, snarling snout with bristly whiskers rushed toward them accompanied by barking and hissing.
"O-y-y!" Belsha yelled, falling from the branch.
Stunned by his own magic action, the prince stared at the snout, unable to move. His eyes caught sight of the creature for a moment as the piksha poised himself, preparing to jump.
"Vraigo!"
The ringing voice of Vasilinka brought him to his senses, and the prince pushed off the branch and dropped down. He slammed heavily into a lower branch of the pine, , but the boy managed to catch hold of it and cushion his fall. After he had fallen lightly into the grass, he jumped quickly to his feet.
"Did you see that?"he shouted to the girl. "There's your 'harmless" creature! Now, we'll drag him out of the hollow."
But both Belsha and Vasilinka were silently watching somewhere above their heads, with their faces expressing deep astonishment.
"He's gone," said the girl, finally.
"How?" wondered the prince as he followed their gaze.
"It's a fact!" confirmed Belsha. "The moment you fell down, he bounded away on the branches."
Everyone knew that in the sunlight, pikshas became feeble and weak like kittens, and Vraigo was about to argue with his friends,
Prologue
but the memory of the empty and cold eyes of the creature he had just seen suddenly filled his mind. Those eyes almost reminded him of the gaze of the terrible basilisk. There was something in those eyes, some thought, a malicious and exultant thought, as though the piksha had hidden power that, with time, would break out, and reveal itself to all the people who had forced all the wicked creatures----even basilisks and pikshas-----rom their old homes throughout the Eternal Forest, driving them far into its depths.
A sense of unexpected alarm suddenly fell upon and burned Vraigo. Although he didn't yet fully understand the source of this concern, he quickly turned to the druids.
"You have to run home and tell everything we've seen to your tribesmen. Strange things are happening in the forest. This morning I saw a dangerous basilisk; your elders probably know of such a creature. You need to be ready to defend yourselves, if necessary."
Belsha and Vasilinka simultaneously nodded to the prince. In moments of danger, these two often-obstinate druids had learned to rely on Vraigo's judgment, as they had when a forest fire drove them into the foul swamp and when a bear-crank had come across their snow hut. Together the brother and sister darted away through the forest.
Vraigo stiffened in indecision himself. He had to rush to Stronghold and warn the guard who, of course, would not believe a word from him; even though he was a prince, he knew he was considered a strange boy. But anxiety dug into him with its sharp teeth. The prince looked around helplessly, and suddenly he realized-----in fact, he felt with his whole skin-----where that vicious, cold wave of fear was coming from.
"Agar!" he cried, frightened.
Vraigo's legs carried him to the river, running and shivering and not knowing why the air became so icy in the summer forest. With his teeth chattering, the prince got out of the water, fleetingly wondered at the silence around him, and soon found himself near the house of his teacher.
"Agar!" called the boy once again, rounding the hut and
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
stumbling on the spot. "Agar"
The magus was only one step away from the table, but he was lying face downwards, stretched out at full length, clutching a crumpled scroll. In that moment, time vanished for Vraigo. With his hands drawn and numb with cold, he was barely able to turn the magus over on his back. The boy began to cry, calling and shaking the teacher. He received no response, and anger with Agar suddenly swept over him. How could the magus leave his pupil alone on this earth, with neither an explanation nor teaching on how to live in this world without bumping its delicate inside or rubbing against its rough edges? How was he to deal with the adversity that, like a heavy, stifling cloud, was thickening over Areya?
"You can't!"cried the prince, looking at the still, pale face. "Don't go away! I won't be able to cope here alone. I can't do it by myself!"
Gripped by despair, his mind rushed along the elusive blue track which had taken White Agar, and which now parted before him. Vraigo struggled a long time to reach through the magic veil and touch the teacher; it seemed to him that he might be able to break his fragile connection to the land and join Agar on his journey. But finally some kind of soft power pushed the prince, noiseless lightning burst before his eyes, and the boy screamed and found himself tumbling down into the grass. Cold drops of night dew now stung his skin, but before peace settled on his tormented consciousness, a familiar voice whispered tenderly:
"Sorry, child, I never thought that I would have to leave you so early. But I am happy." "Happy that I've found you, and happy that I can leave this earth to you."
The Eternal Forest softly rustled over the clearing, water from the sleepy river flowed a deep, playful blue, and stars, like living reflections of the magic veil that had enveloped the white magus, impassively watched the world below.
Chapter 1
Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
The cave was dry and clean, with numerous colonies of digger beetles clinging to the ceiling, illuminating everything around them with their dim violet light. So the two travelers, who were making their way cautiously along the stone edge of the precipice, did not need to light torches, bunches of which were attached to their leather belts. The narrow trail ended with half-crumbling steps, long ago skillfully carved into the stone. Exchanging glances, the travelers began quickly and cautiously descending the stairs, but no sound echoed from their light and deliberate footsteps. "Do you see that?" the short, blond-haired boy whispered to his companion, content now that he spied what they'd been hunting for. "The spirit was not lying after all-----you really intimidated the poor thing! There is a passage here indeed, which we did not know, and gnomes must have actively used it in the past." He stamped his foot on the narrow stair in the passage for emphasis, happy that they had found the passage to a gnome town.
"All the same, we'll have to drive that spirit out of the gorge," the
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
second young man chuckled. "People from midnight settlements dread coming through there to Stronghold for trade."
"It's easy to say 'drive out'!" the towhead replied indignantly. "I know how you usually do that. Will he really let us drive him out? Not likely! Then again, even if he does, we'll be in need of a week's rest at home, not to mention the herbal potion we'l have to drink to regain our strength."
"Belsha, don't whine." The taller traveler glanced at his friend. "These spirits, of course, are evil and mean things. You would spend such an enormous amount of energy to get rid of one of them, as though it was a whole pack of these vicious things. You'd better not go."
The short man sniffed indignantly and stared at the back of his friend, who immediately sensed the look and shrugged his broad shoulders. The tail of his tangled curly hair began bouncing against his leather belt, but Belsha's gaze continued drilling into the back of his head.
"And what do such sturdy fellows as him think of themselves? They go about wronging druids and then pay no attention to their misdeeds."Belsha intentionally spoke as if Vraigo was not there. In an instant, though, his tone changed. "Vraigo!" suddenly cried out the blond-haired wayfarer, now in alarm.
His friend, who was confidently striding down worn steps seconds ago, had disappeared, as if swallowed up by the thickening darkness.
"Vraigo!"
"I'm here," sounded from somewhere below. "Stop yelling. Jump down here, just be cautious."
It was only now that Belsha, whose druid ability to see in the dark of the stone depths was much less than that of an average human like Vraigo, discerned a niche carved into the rock in front of the lower steps, and Vraigo's head sticking out there.
"It seems we've arrived.†said the prince, anxiously looking around. "There is no other passage I can see."
Agile Belsha slipped into the rock recess next to his friend and
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
rushed forward to the shrinking rocky corridor. Vraigo started tramping after him, hitting his shoulders against sharp stones as the passage got narrower. In the end, the passage turned into a narrow slit through which the prince had difficulty making his way unless he turned sideways. He began to worry that with the next step he might be tightly stuck between the stone walls, but up ahead Belsha finally stood stock-still, looked out of the passage and muttered with satisfaction:"Aha!"
Holding onto a rock ledge, Vraigo leaned his head forward to survey the new view and what he saw was very impressive: a large cave of gray-green stone that was not like the rest of the rock they had just seen, gently cascading down to an underground lake. The great depth of the lake made its surface so pitch black that there were not even reflections of the rare stalactites above it.
"Black Lake, who would have thought!"breathed Belsha, enjoying this. "How many times have we heard that it is impossible to find the lake?"
"It's impossible if you don't know that there is a passage here. Let's get out of it." Vraigo pushed the happy druid forward. "I was quite battered between the stones."
Habitually holding on to barely noticeable cracks and potholes, the friends quickly began to descend from the opening of the passage to the level of the lake. Belsha again surpassed the heavier prince and was the first to arrive on the stone floor. It appeared that from top to bottom the walls and floor of the cave were of green stone. The druid gasped in admiration------the whole giant cave, as far as the eye could see in the dim light, was lined with thin plates of mica which were shining with a greenish tint, dispersing the thick gloom of the ancient cave.
"Well, do you now believe that there could have been a town of gnomes here?" Belsha shifted his gaze from the floor to his friend, who also was carefully viewing the surprising mica tiles. "The gnomes must have been comfortably settled here. See? They would have obtained just enough reflected light to go about their business."
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
"And it looks like they did that yesterday." Vraigo unsuccessfully tried to kick loose tiles from the floor with his boot." You had better look around, my friend."
Snorting uncertainly, the druid cautiously moved forward. The dim light and absolute silence oppressed the usually-cheerful Belsha, who tried to hide that oppression from his friend by talking loudly.
"I don't quite believe in these tales of timelessness. Though, on the other hand, the gnomes went away somewhere, and as recently as my mother's childhood there were mountains that were swarming with them. Sometimes they would even wander into the forest for herbs. As for me, I have seen none of those small, bearded beings."
Suddenly, a low, vague shadow emerged in front of the druid while he, like a cat, darted to the side, rolled on the floor, jumped up, and stood panting, staring at something stiff and still. A tar torch immediately blazed up behind him, illuminating a section of the huge hall.
"May I be dried up!" gasped Belsha in amazement.
A number of wide columns, curved on one side, were towering in front of the travelers. Arranged in staggered rows and polished smoothly, they clearly were meant to protect the subterranean dwellers from attack. In any case, Vraigo knew of only a few very dangerous creatures that could be stopped by such a fence. Human settlements were often surrounded by metal sheets; residents would spend every spare moment scrubbing those sheets until they glittered. "So, the monsters have gotten here, too."Immediately Belsha became serious. "You should hide yourself, and hurry, if you don't have a magic weapon!"
Vraigo nodded and shifted the scabbard on his belt forward so that his sword, Raven, was at the ready, and without a second's hesitation the druid also lit a torch and, holding it high above his head, followed his friend.
Beyond the columns, the cave looked more like a giant hall. Unlike the plain but shining mica on the walls they had first seen, there were intricately worked stones standing here and there, and
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
sections of walls were gleaming with mosaic or bristling with carvings. Here were steps fleeing into the darkness of the Black Lake, and there were others, giddily taking off the sheer wall.
"Look!" Belsha said, waving a torch in an attempt to better highlight the underground hall.
Stairs led to two huge caves that stretched into the bowels of the mountain.
"Most likely, these were their homes," conjectured Vraigo.
"Gnomes' storehouses!" rejoiced the druid. "Mountains of treasures and magical crystals!"
"I don't think so," the cool-headed prince replied. "The gnomes must have organized their departure; they would have taken everything valuable with them."
"How do you know?"
"When someone flees from death, the place he leaves behind looks quite different." Vraigo sighed. "You are perfectly familiar with that."
Devastated Elk Ravine flashed before the eyes of the travelers for a moment, both of them remembering too well what had happened with the tiny human settlement that had been on the edge of the Eternal Forest. But Belsha immediately shook his head, chasing away the terrible picture.
"All the same, we have to check those storage places. We have found a gnomes' town and must not be tricked! Both humans and druids would make fun of us."
Without waiting for an answer from Vraigo, he rushed to the narrow stairs climbing up to the entrances of the caves. On both sides of the corridors there were lower niches in which gnome families had apparently lived. It quickly became clear that the prince was right, the small nation had taken their treasure with them to unknown places. Beside stone utensils and leather clothes, there were only a few things that attracted the attention of the treasure hunters: a little hatchet with a carved hilt, not allowing it to slip from sweaty palms; a good knife, the handle of which was decorated with an image of the underground god Nera, represented
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
as a snake biting its own tail due to poor sight; and some projectile stars made the discovery exciting to the searching friends. The fact that the gnomes, known as lovers of arms, had forgotten even those, was incredibly good fortune for the prince and the druid.
Everyone knew that, after the mysterious ancestors from the north who had made hoards of magical swords, gnomes were the best armorers on the Earth. Therefore, any weapon appearing to be made under their careful craftsmanship was especially valuable; never had one betrayed the bearer in a battle and one could be easily exchanged for gold or precious stones. Unfortunately, gnome weapons could cause no more damage to vicious spirits and the like than could human swords, knives, and arrows.
Happy at their find, Belsha immediately began twisting and tossing the light hatchet, which fit his hands much better than the products of human blacksmiths. After watching him, Vraigo shoved the knife behind his belt. He did not want to admit how glad he was to have this swift and deadly thing, with its long, narrow blade. It was necessary to thank the weapons' former owners and their patrons for the findings. After some hesitation, the prince laid barley cake on the abandoned altar of Nera right near the niches where the gnomes had lived.
"I wonder," said Belsha, having played enough with the hatchet and now sitting at the entrance of the cave, "why did the gnomes decide to run away? I never saw a better position for defense. Put three fighters here and any attacking monsters could be thrown off the ledge with ease."
Vraigo also looked down. The narrow staircase would prevent any monsters from having much room to attack; a good voevode could defend such a fortress for years. Pressing his hands against the stone wall, the prince mentally rushed up to the magic veil, seeking energy as he had learned so many years before under Agar's tutelage, and then he suddenly dashed aside, covering his face with his hands. The images that had filled his head were unbearable.
"What? What?" Belsha jumped to his feet.
His friend was feeling around blindly in search of support, at
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
any moment risking falling off the ledge. In one leap, the druid reached him and pressed him to the wall again. Without taking his hands from his face, Vraigo muttered:
"What a vile sort of creature! Never have I seen such awful beasts. Get off of me....." The prince dropped his hands and turned to Belsha with his face growing pale. "They have teeth on top, on the bottom, on all sides.... And they climbed these walls just on their bellies. It's a wonder that any of the gnomes managed to escape."
"Are you sure they did?" asked Belsha in a husky voice.
He had known Vraigo for a long time and the feelings of his friend, like a distant echo, always passed to him.
"When these things," the prince jabbed his finger into a stone wall, pointing as if the original monsters continued sitting at the entrance, "began jumping on the defenders from the ceiling, the elders led the gnomes away from here. They had everything ready. But I don't see how they vanished like that."
Sliding his hand along the wall, Vraigo again walked deep into the stone corridor, wandered around it a little, and shook his head in disappointment.
"I can't understand it; the gnomes just disappeared. They are no more. The monsters were in a terrible rage."
"You say they are particularly nasty?" anxiously asked Belsha.
"As if there are any other kinds of monsters! To be honest, I[m always amazed at the ingenuity of such vicious spirits. But these were huge and had such abilities.... It would be much better if they didn[t exist at all. Come on, Belsha, the Duke and the original mother, Selena, should know about the new monsters."
Driven by growing concern, the friends rushed on the way back, past the Black Lake, along the rocky slope, climbing higher and higher up out of the depths of the Infinite Mountains, towards the sunlight. Gnomes' storehouses, legends of which had been very hard for the friends to believe, no longer seemed to be so tempting, but the certain and persistent danger that the new, ferocious monsters presented left neither the druid nor the human indifferent.
After the dead-night feeling of the underground, spring in the
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Eternal Forest seemed particularly happy and warm. The Eternal Forest surrounded the Infinite Mountains on all sides, and like a green ocean, flowed to the hot plains in the midday lands, as the southern corner of the earth was known, and to the great snowy regions of the midnight lands, as the northern reaches of the world were called. It was possible to wander through the forest for months without encountering human habitation or huts of druids, and eventually wander into such thickets that never released uninformed travelers. And it was also possible to feel the mysterious life of the forest and its inhabitant....that is, if one was born as a druid or an endowed magus, such as the fortunate Vraigo.
Vraigo and Belsha had scarcely descended the mountain plateau when the desired path seemed to jump up to their feet. The friends ran on it following along the edge of a deceptively inoffensive emerald-green marsh. Of course, it would be prudent to be riding horses for such long-distance travel, but lately it had become too dangerous to leave horses unattended, and many forest traps were much easier to bypass on foot. There was, for example, a rusalka sitting on a thick birch branch, silently combing her very long hair, who understood at first glance that it was not worth luring the casual travelers who were without horses. To think how many good horses had been dragged by the reins by these hags' claws to impenetrable thickets, with only their bones now left whitening in the grass.
Belsha could not resist the temptation and carefully hurled a pinecone at the rusalka, hoping that the prince, slightly ahead of him, was not paying any attention. The hag hissed, soaring up from the branch, and Vraigo, as if he had an eye in the back of his head, mockingly asked:
"How come you druids don't like rusalkas? They are cuties after all, are they not? True, they're rather predatory. All you need to know is how to treat them correctly. Mermaids, of course, are certainly quieter." Vraigo glanced at his friend, who tried hard to maintain his composure. "But then, they are fish!"
Suddenly the prince stopped as if rooted to the spot; his broad
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
hand squeezed the hilt of the sword on his belt.
"Well, Belsha, if that is you again-----"
The druid had a habit: he loved to frighten or distract his friend from an unpleasant conversation. Although Belsha couldn't reach the magic veil as Vraigo could, the druid would stretch toward the sleeping spirits of trees by using the ray of his thoughts, and the spirits would respond to this call, immediately soaring from all sides like gigantic shadows. The prince, at first, always had difficulties distinguishing these strange shadows from the presence of living beings.
But Belsha did not have time to be indignant, as two dirty-green creatures simultaneously leapt out of the marsh grass and pounced upon the place where the druid had been standing only a second before. Belsha, already rolling head over heels, jumped up with the gnomes' hatchet appearing in his hand as if by magic. And Vraigo just had time to turn to the malicious monsters and meet them with the brilliant blade of his sword. Now they began attacking.
Teeth were chattering, claws were scratching, the sword and the battle axe were attacking tirelessly. It was important to protect one another's back in the heat of the battle, not to give the creatures a chance to round upon them and seize their defenseless necks. A big monster repelled Belsha's light hatchet with his paw, aiming at the druid's face with his fetid snout. Vraigo felt the druid at his back begin jerkily sliding into a sitting position, so he squatted and sent a beast flying over their heads with his sword. Several injured monsters huddled together near the bushes, still baring their teeth aggressively, and the prince dealt a final death blow with his heavy sword.
"You just look,"Belsha said, drawing a deep breath and moving to his friend's side. "Again the new monsters."
He looked with disgust at the brown-green tufted hair, elongated snake-like snouts, and strong clutches of their limbs, which were unnaturally twisted at the joints.
"In all likelihood, they're also poisonous." Vraigo hooked the face of a big monster with the toe of his boot. Indeed, two pairs
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
of long curved tusks with deep internal grooves jutted out of the beast's jaws. The travelers were lucky that none of these monsters had been able to bite through their boots or clutch at their unprotected bodies.
Every time after a fight, the druid's whole body went as hard as stone and then began quivering. His tribesmen were not warriors; it was much more physically difficult for Belsha to take part in fights than it was for his human friend.
"Well," said the prince, as he tore several wide leaves from a nearby bush and used them to begin cleaning the sword. He noted Belsha's quivering. "We should also wash ourselves. Who will be the first to find a stream?"
It was an old children's game. When the young prince had realized that he was a real endowed magus, naturally a contest began between him and the artful druid. Which of them was the best in searching for and recognizing herbs and rootlets, who could get water first, who could tame a beast, or even make friends with the drevalyanka? And it should be noted that Vraigo was not always victorious; the druid would often find a secret way to cope with the task better. So now Belsha stopped quivering, but wagged his sharp nose from side to side as he shook his head:
"You'll find one at eight hundred thirty steps towards sunset. If you want, you can count them," Belsha answered as if it had required no thought. He liked teasing the prince. Vraigo had never been able to calculate distance accurately.
The two friends found the stream in the very place that the druid indicated. It wasn't even a stream, really just a cold spring which could easily wash away the dirt and filth of their battle. After they had finished, the chilled companions began racing with one another along the path. Although the probability of running into an ambush for a second time that day was small, still they were extremely anxious to get warm and to eat.
"I'd kill for a flat cake!" shouted Belsha as if reading Vraigo's thoughts.
"Flat cakes!" he chuckled. "Say thank you that I left mine with
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
Nera and that the hatchet did not let you down. It would've been good if you'd had to fight against those vermin with only your knife."
Feeling insulted on behalf of his beloved wide, curved knife, Belsha sulked, but then changed his mind about quarreling and suggested:
"Surely, we can at least find a clearing of wildings or sorrel. I'm starving. Although we could also go hunting," he added, patting himself on the sunken belly. "So what if we come home an hour later?"
Vraigo doubtfully looked at the slowly setting Eye of Day.
"Well, all right," decided the prince. "Anyway, we can't reach Stronghold before nightfall, and the Duke will only receive me in the morning, so I won't be able to talk with him until then.... Besides, we can't expect to reap any results from that conversation if he doesn't already know himself that the number of malicious monsters has increased. His usual response to a threat is: 'We'll take Urart, go out in the open field, and everybody will be beaten.' "
Sympathetically snuffling, Belsha took out a stone and a sling, disappeared behind a neighboring clump of trees, and a moment later returned to his companion holding a motley forest hen, already as fat as if it were autumn instead of just springtime. On the fire they built nearby it got golden crisp and began smelling so delicious that the salivating travelers started dancing impatiently around the fire.
"Forget gnomes' caves and monsters; this is what I understand!" rejoiced Belsha, splitting the chicken onto two fresh burdock leaves. "Your dinner, prince!"
But Vraigo suddenly ceased to rejoice, as an indefinite anxiety stirred under his left clavicle. Without looking again at the succulent bird, he turned to the dark wall of the forest. Something fast and almost imperceptible was moving along the glade where the travelers were standing.
"What?"asked Belsha anxiously.
"It's as if a beast-----or something....."
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Bushes silently parted and a shaggy face looked out from them., The man turned his head, and then came out completely into the clearing.
"Hi," he smiled, but the strange yellowish eyes remained stationary. "Dining out, huh?"
Still smiling, hunching his thin shoulders, he took a few strange wobbly steps toward Vraigo.
"Stay where you are," ordered the prince at once, standing and leaning on his sheathed sword.
Belsha instantly picked up his hatchet from the ground and from the corner of his eye he noticed a few more hungry-looking faces flitting in the bushes.
"What of it?" whined the stranger. "I just want a little chicken, delicious, hot chicken.... He again stepped toward the travelers.
Realizing with whom he was dealing, Vraigo dropped the sword, and mentally darted up to the magic mantle in search of a more suitable weapon. Blue light flashed onto his right hand, and a fistful of sparks flew into the grass under the feet of the unexpected guest. The stranger howled and rushed to the side, a burst of howls from the bushes supporting him.
"These are magi!" yelled the creature, transforming and becoming covered with thick fur even as it leaped toward the safety of the bushes. "Greedy, tasty magi!"
"Tasty-y-y!" a chorus joined in howling with him.
"What should we do when the monsters tear our prey?"
"Pre-y-y!"
"Those were magi who set the monsters loose on the forest! They should give us the equivalent!"
"Equivale-ent!"
"Let's leave, eh?" Belsha proposed to Vraigo. "I'm no longer eager to dine, somehow."
"Hey, you!" cried Vraigo, who absolutely agreed with his friend. "Werewolves! We are going away and leaving the chicken for you! Stop whining!"
Grabbing their hiking bags, the travelers once again rushed
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
along the path. A gloaming light had been enveloping the forest more and more, and the dreary howl of the hungry werewolves that had been piercing through the forest died down somewhere far away only after the friends forded a narrow forest rivulet.
Beyond the light wedge of birches, the friends reached one end of a thick, dense fir-grove, which they hoped was the last dangerous section of the road. It is in just such dark and damp places that malicious spirits and creatures prefer to ambush travelers or perhaps to have an afternoon nap, so it was possible to move through them only by keeping one's nose to the wind. Because of this, Belsha, silently gliding between the old trees, was the first who noticed the piksha. The druid instantly stood still, warningly waving with his hand; Vraigo warily stopped beside him. Watching his pal's signals, the prince surveyed the almost-black trees and also saw the large cat-like animal, silently floating along upon heavy spruce branches. In recent years many heinous and horrible beasts had appeared in the Eternal Forest, but pikshas, who never moved in packs and did not attack people openly, continued to be one of the most dangerous creatures. Not every man could resist the hypnotizing call of a hungry piksha.
The fact that the shaggy black cat, rather than waiting for darkness, was already purposefully slinking somewhere did not promise anything good. They knew they should attempt to catch the piksha, but the friends also knew that she would not engage in battle. Scenting the superiority of the enemy, she would simply vanish, disappearing into the forest. And neither Vraigo's magical abilities nor the druid's intuition would help them find her-----They had tested this in practice more than once. But a piksha herself would never lose track of even a thin trace left by the unlucky hunters. She would avenge her kind without fail on the inhabitants of Stronghold. Moreover, this was one of those unusual new pikshas, for whom sunlight was not an obstacle. As if it wasn't odd at all, she jumped onto the next tree in the sunset light.
The best moment to catch such a beast was when the creature was in her den-----Vraigo knew that from experience. Exchanging
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
glances, the travelers set off after the piksha; the coherence of their movements, developed through the years, transformed them into two bodiless shadows. Soon the fir-grove was left behind, and the friends waited until the creature cautiously slipped through a meadow and then followed her into a damp, mossy ravine. Several times when the piksha stopped, rolling her nose and ears, Vraigo instantly imagined himself as a transparent blue ray. From childhood he knew that there was no better way to protect his thoughts from these too-inquisitive natural magi. After all, what revealing thoughts could be read from a simple beam? True, such tricks failed to act upon real endowed magi; they knew little Vraigo inside and out. It was much easier for Belsha to hide himself. If the druid tried very hard, even his friend could not find him in the forest, unless the prince was able to figure out which tree suddenly rose from its place, such as when the tree started to run quickly away from him.
The ravine deepened as the piksha moved on, leading the two travelers away from the road to Stronghold. The animal turned up in a hollow where rickety trees jostled one another in futile attempts to reach the light with even a branch, even a single twig. The road under their feet became swampy; swollen roots rose from the ground and intertwined with powerless drooping branches. On the whole, they should have recognized that the piksha was sneaking into the thicket, the thicket that would soon become completely impassable.
"Maybe we better stop?" Belsha inquired of the prince, as he was firmly stuck himself in the mesh of thin but strong shoots.
"We need to understand what she intends to do here," Vraigo replied, shaking his head. "Come on, slowly, just until we reach the bushes." Wounding his fingers on thorns, he helped the druid to untangle and get out of the thorny shoots, and Belsha was the first to slide toward strange burnt-looking bushes.
On the other side of these bushes the forest had quite an unattractive look: dead, or at least dying, and filled with unhealthy power, plants interlaced in a deadly struggle there. Even the adroit
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
piksha sank her paws through brittle twigs, discontentedly hissed and scratched the hard, dry bark. It became impossible to pursue her silently, but Vraigo continued dragging his friend forward until a narrow glade opened in front of them, pulling apart the dense wall of trees. After waiting a few seconds for the creature to go a little away, the prince looked out cautiously at the glade from behind a tree. Staring at the glade, he saw a hut there and gave a low whistle in surprise as he sank down on the withered grass.
"So it is a yaga," he said gloomily to the druid. "A witch has turned up in our forest and, in addition, is staying here and breeding pikshas. Why are all the wicked creatures appearing all at once?"
Witches exceeded virtually any other vicious creatures or spirits in their wickedness. Nobody knew exactly what tribe these women belonged to. On the one hand they had an obvious affinity with the capabilities of druids, drevalyankas, and other natural magi; but on the other, not even everyone endowed with evil magic would dare to compete with the black power of a yaga. There were legends about how a witch, for seemingly no reason at all, would undertake the treatment of patients with terminal illnesses or help someone out of trouble. But more often than not, tormented by their treachery, if a witch settled near a human settlement, the people persuaded a good magus to drive her away and restore order and calm in their neighborhood. Well-coached pikshas were indispensable companions of a witch.
"Just look where the yaga grew these roots. This appears to be a dense thicket, and in fact, a stone's throw from here to the nearest habitation." Vraigo anxiously shook his head.
"Not everyone can warp the forest this way,"sighed Belsha. "What kind of hex was used here, and by what sort of people?"
"What 'people'? Yagas----'people'?"
"Well, it wasn't a druid," Belsha shrugged. "First, no druid would lift a hand against the forest. Secondly, we have no such power."
"I don't feel that she is a woman either, somehow." The prince remembered what Agar had taught him, that yagas were transformed
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
mentally and physically and could no longer be considered regular women. The prince focused, mentally rushing to the dark hut visible in the clearing and then recoiling back. "Wow, what a black hole almost caught me! She's a strong old girl."
"Of course, I don"t know exactly, but we were told that a yaga was a woman who was singled out by a bad magus," Belsha piped up. "He would draw a woman near him and build a close relationship with her, give her some magical strength, and then, for some reason, drive her away, changing her forever. Such wizards live a long time, so they can populate a whole land with witches. If so, it's understandable why the old girls are so aggressive."
"Here's more proof that a mighty bad magus has appeared in Areya," interrupted his friend Vraigo. "I heard that there is a yaga in the bear corner of the swamps, too."
"Again?" Belsha looked suspiciously at the prince. "Whatever happens, you're all about that bad magus. If such a bad magus had appeared here, our elders, the drevalyankas, or your magi would definitely have sensed him, wouldn't they? And for druids, stories of witches are considered fairy tales...."
"Sh-sh-sh." Vraigo jumped up quickly and the druid was instantly on his feet, too. "Let's go quickly. She has sensed us, the rotter! This is not the time to grapple with her."
Straightening up, the travelers realized that the deep, velvety darkness of night had completely enveloped them. As if absorbed in some sort of trickery, they had missed its arrival. As cautiously as they could, straining all their sensitivity, the young men hurried back through the dead forest, the piksha forgotten. Neither of them counted the stinging thorns and sharp branches that ruthlessly tore their clothes, dug into their skin, and clung to their hair. A large predator flashed somewhere on the edge of their perception, but excited Vraigo mentally barked at him and the beast chose to go its own way. Only good fortune kept the two friends from meeting any of the invisible vicious spirits; apparently they had taken different paths that night, and the weary travelers safely passed the ravine with squelching water underfoot, and, reeling from exhaustion,
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
came to the familiar path.
"Try to remember the way," demanded Vraigo, taking a hardy breath." I feel we will have to come back to this old lady once again, but she will really try to trick us here. It will be hard to find the right path."
Belsha nodded; he would not particularly like to have further contact with a yaga and her pikshas, but there was no sense in arguing with the prince. If any one of the magical creatures attacked humans or druids, Vraigo would simply begin a hunt for it. And Belsha had to admit, Vraigo's determination did hold everyone in check, except the brainless monsters prowling in packs.
Soon, as if the friends had overcome a mysterious frontier, the forest path became much brighter. Stars and a yellow slice of the moon lit up in the sky. Trees became familiar and a thin, familiar figure emerged in front of them.
"Vasilinka!" Belsha joyfully shouted, rushing to his sister. "We have found the gnomes’ town! Who did not believe us? Behold!" He drew the captured hatchet from behind his belt.
"You decided to show up!" the young woman said indignantly, her eyes sparkling angrily in the darkness and her hands plucking at a red strand of hair. "And, above all, you're not even in a hurry, walking grandly like tailless roosters!"
The travelers looked at each other in surprise, and Vraigo, reaching into his rucksack for the girl's gift, gently asked:
"What's up?"
"What's up?" Vasilinka stomped her bare foot. "Well, where have you been, can you tell me? I almost went out of my head trying to find you! Why did you not respond?"
"What's the panic?" wondered Belsha. "We were delayed. Imagine who we just met on the way! A yaga has appeared in the forest again-----"
"You have not been here for nine nights," interrupted the girl. "Of course, I tried to convince Mother and myself that you were catching and driving out a monster or an evil spirit again. But a new detachment of monsters has appeared near the settlements that are
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
over the river, and werewolves were howling yesterday."
"How so, nine? Are you serious?" asked Vraigo and Belsha together.
"It seems she's in earnest" The prince looked at the delicate face of Vasilinka. "Although we thought it was just this morning that we went down to the cave."
"What a bad spirit! That skunk! Sent us for a treasure, did he? It's certainly necessary to drive him out of the gorge!" Belsha was indignant, recalling what had propelled them on their adventure to look for the gnome town in the first place.
"The spirit of the gorge is not to blame here. You too have heard various stories about the gnomes' cave yourself and, again, were convinced that all those were only tales. But time there really does...." Vraigo searched for the right word. ".....it gallops-----you know, passes by leaps and bounds. But we can look more closely into that later on."
Awkwardly stamping, the prince again reached into his bag and fished out a long string of beads of green mica. He'd found this bauble in an abandoned gnomes' dwelling and immediately realized how it would suit the red-haired, green-eyed druid girl. The beads flashed up in the darkness with soft phantasmal light. Vasilinka giggled and hid her hands behind her back.
"You actually think I'll just forgive you?"she asked as severely as she could while she admired the gift.
"Just think, she was unable to contact us!" grumbled Belsha good-naturedly. "You could become accustomed to that. But I have not eaten for nine days! It is impossible to imagine. By the way, Vasilinka, what's for dinner? Vraigo, come eat with us."
"No, I'm going to Stronghold," said the prince anxiously. "I must have been lost for as many days as you were. My mother must be frantic. I'm a tree stump, and didn't tell her where I was going. She was expecting me to return quickly."
Nodding to his friends, he lightly ran farther on, as if he hadn't just spent a long day traversing many miles of impassable thickets and viscous swamps.
Chapter 1: Infinite Mountains and Eternal Forest
"Vraigo, thanks!"Vasilinka shouted, waving the beads that were tightly clenched in her small palm.
The prince nodded again, though the girl could no longer see him. Mentally, Vraigo had already darted somewhere far away, frowning at thoughts of all that would need to be done when he reached Stronghold, while physically his legs themselves chose the road, hopping over tussocks, going around thick trunks, and sweeping over burrows and pits.
CHARACTER GUIDE
Listed in Alphabetical Order
Agar
A pure archmagus and Vraigo's teacher. He discovered the prince’s magical abilities.
Aina
The Grand Duchess. Vlady's wife and mother of the two princes, Tagas and Seles.
Baday
A voevode (commander) of the army of Areya. He is Vlady's old friend and companion-in-arms, a great warrior and the educator of the Duke's sons.
Basilisk
A creature with the body and legs of a toad and the head of a rooster. Basilisks are natural magi who are able to turn to turn to stone any creatures or people just by casting their eyes on them.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Bolug
A very large creature who looks like a boulder. Bolugs stand guard over the forest.
Drevalyanka
A natural magus who lives in the forest and looks like a small green fox.
Esen
A foreman in Tagas' fighting squad.
Evstarh
A magus and servant of the library of Stronghold. Evstarh himself is not fully trained, but he is very inquisitive and prone to magical experiments.
Character Guide
Gnomes
Stocky bearded creatures who once lived in the Infinite Mountains. Gnomes are good armorers.
Griffin
A creature who lives in the mountains and knows guarding magic. Griffins have the paws of a lion and head and wings of an eagle. Griffins who were domesticated by people stand guard over treasure.
Kenush
A werewolf who is Vraigo's ally and friend.
Kikimora
A magical creature who lives in the swamp.
Kikimoras are also able to draw a traveller into a quagmire. They are small, green, and shaggy, with big heads and eyes.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Koschei
Koschei, the deathless one, is struggling for control of all magic power.
Lera
A present-day girl who also takes part in Vraigo's adventures.
Lyubim
A duke. Vlady's younger brother and Vraigo's father. Lyubim was killed in battle many years ago.
Magus-Who-Has-No-Eternal-Peace
A bad magus when he was a human being.
When trying to achieve immortality, he became forever stuck in the state of being not alive and yet not dead. He must feed on the energy of living people and other creatures.
Character Guide
Malusha
A foreman in Tagas' fighting squad.
Marisa
A duchess. Lyubim's widow and Vraigo's mother.
Mermaid
A natural magus who is very beautiful.
Mermaids have tails like a fish and live in forest rivers. They are rather dull-witted creatures who spend all their energies on appearance and comfort, but they are able to tempt a careless traveller into water.
Monsters
Various creatures from other worlds.
Koschei called the monsters from another level of the universe so that they would exterminate people. The beasts are all different, from medium-sized to very large.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Nik
A young man from the modern world, a student who becomes Vraigo's friend and companion when the prince finds himself in modern times.
Piksha
A bad, predatory natural magus who resembles a very big cat with large teeth.
Pikshas are servants to yagas.
Rohan
The youngest son of the Grand Duke and Evstarh's student. Rohan discovered his own magical abilities without assistance.
Rokot
Head of the guards of Stronghold (the Duke's place). He is Baday's right-hand man.
Character Guide
Rusalka
A creature who looks like a woman-bird.
Rusalkas have poor magic abilities but are very predatory.
Salamander
A tiny fire magus who looks like a small flying lizard with lights on it.
Selena
Mother to Vasilinka, Belsha and the stirp of Druids.
Seles
The Grand Duke's second son. Seles is cunning, clever, and he complements the straightforward Tagas.
White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors
Tagas
The Grand Duke's eldest son and an excellent fighter. Vlady trains Tagas so that the prince can eventually take his place.
Tanar
A stocky, shaggy aggressive creature who lives in the underground caves. Tanars have no magical abilities.
Vasilinka and Belsha
Two druids, Vasilinka (girl) and Belsha (boy) are brother and sister. They become Vraigo’s friends from childhood. Druids are small forest inhabitants who are shorter than people and have delicate constitution and pale skin. Druids know forest magic.
Vile Spirit
A wicked immaterial magic substance.
Spirits are aggressive towards people because they envy the living.
Character Guide
Vlady
The Grand Duke of Areya. People of Areya love him for his wisdom, military valor and service for the good of the country.
Vraigo
A prince and a nephew of Vlady the Grand Duke. Vraigo is endowed with very high magical and military skills. He is on the quest to recover Urart, the sword of the Northern Ancestors.
Werewolf
A werewolf is part human and part beast.
Some of them are gifted with high magic abilities, as is the case with Kenush.
Werewolves side with humans in the fight against the invading monsters and Koschei.
Yaga
A forest witch who was once human.
Find the Author:
Web Site
Youtube
About the Author:
Irina Lopatina lives and works in Siberia, Russia, but her homeland has an even more wonderful and exotic name: Altai. It is a unique place where old Altai Mountains rise high up to the sky, centuries-old forests stretch out as in ages past, and mighty Siberian rivers flow along the plains. Altai is one of the few places in the world where huge, densely populated cities coexist with pristine wild places. Moreover, this is an area of the earliest human civilizations, through which the great migration of people from eastern lands to Europe once took place.
While studying at the Altai State University, Irina devoted much attention to the past of her native land. As a student, she went to the archaeological sites of ancient settlements located on the mountain plateau, where it was only possible to arrive on foot. She remembers moments when it was quite easy to imagine how the ancient people had lived, what creatures neighbored them, and what adventures took place in these vast spaces. Irina needed take only a small leap from there to White Raven, his friends, and his enemies who were ready to begin a journey through the Eternal Forest of Areya.
Of course, it would have been much more difficult for her to create her stories if Irina had not been inspired early on by the works of many excellent fantasy and science fiction writers such as J.R. Tolkien and Ursula Le Guin, the Russian authors Nick Perumov and Svyatoslav Loginov, as well as the wonderfully charming Russian fairy tales where a brave prince, his faithful grey wolf and the evil koschei always live. And so it happens that Irina's novels are the stories of a distant, semi-fantastic land which, who knows, may still exist next door to us.
About the Illustrator:
Even as a child, Igor Adasikov knew that he would be an artist.
While studying at an art school, he devoted much of his time practicing classical drawing, seeking to depict the world around him as fully as possible. His works often won awards in Russian art contests, and he continued his education at Moscow Art Institute. After graduating from the Institute, Igor worked as an artist preferring realistic painting, such as portrait and landscape. However, his rich imagination still needed an outlet and manifested itself in full while illustrating the fantasy novel, White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors.
Here, in the surprising fairy-tale world, void of any boundaries, the artist found the nourishment to feed his creativity. Having traveled with the heroes through the whirlwind of adventures, he worked to give readers a visible image of Areya, bringing to life the magical creatures that inhabit the land, and making friends with the heroes of this fascinating story.
Author Interview
Irina Lopatina is the author of, White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors, set for release July 2012 by Light Messages Publishing. She also recently published Tales From The Frog Forest, a collection of children's stories about three unlikely playmates who learn to get along through hopping, flying, and running.
Irina lives in Siberia, Russia, near the ancient Altai mountains, a setting she says provides perfect inspiration for fantasy stories. We recently interviewed her about her writing and the source of her deeply creative stories. Join us as she discusses why she writes, how she finds her characters, and offers some advice for young authors.
Please note: Irina speaks and writes only in Russian. Her answers here were translated by Dmitry Lopatin, the translator of White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors and Tales From The Frog Forest.
Interview
1. What inspired you to write White Raven?
A. I am a historian by education. As a student, I used to go to the archaeological sites of ancient settlements located in the Altai Mountains, where it was only possible to arrive on foot. It was quite easy to imagine how the ancient people had lived there, what creatures neighbored them, and what adventures took place in these vast spaces.
One fine day I found some people sitting in my mind. Whenever I thought about them, they began walking and doing something, such as embarking on a long journey, which always thrilled me because I love traveling. So, I just had to follow the future characters closely and invent the world where they could live.
2. When or at what age did you know you wanted to be a writer?
A. Actually, it is a long story. As far as I can remember, I always wanted to write a book, and I even made attempts to do this - when I was seven years old, I filled my notebooks with stories and gave those to my mother as gifts. But then I suddenly realized that grown-up writers composed their stories far better than I did, and I definitely did not want to be uninteresting. Therefore, I postponed the idea about a book until better times and focused on studying. And, in my opinion, I was studying the most fascinating thing--the history of mankind--which for some time fully engrossed my attention. But over the years, the ideas and images, which were gradually ripening in my head, began to form their own story, so I realized that I would write my own book at last. And it won't be only one book.
3. What is the earliest age you remember reading your first book?
A. When I was seven years old, I read a translation of L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz ,and I nearly changed my mind about becoming a writer because I thought that I would never write something similar.
4. What genre of books do you enjoy reading?
A. I enjoy reading fantasy, thrillers, and classic Russian literature.
5. What is your favorite book?
A. I would say it is The Twelve Chairs, a classic satirical novel by Russian authors Ilf and Petrov.
6. You know I think we all have a favorite author. Who is your favorite author and why?
A. They are Ilf and Petrov, because these authors have one of the most keen wit in my opinion. I would also mention The brothers Arkady and Boris Strugatsky, Russian science fiction authors, because I think they are some of the most creative authors. All their novels differ from each other and have well-constructed concepts of fantastic reality.
7. If you could travel back in time here on earth to any place or time. Where would you go and why?
A. I think that I, in fact, can do this, because I travel to anywhere I want in my books. And you can do this with me, too!
8. When writing a book do you find that writing comes easy for you or is it a difficult task?
A. Writing a book has two sides for me.
My favorite part of working on any of my books is always the same–– creating a story. The story ripens and accumulates details, becoming saturated with colors, until I find the time to write it down on paper. It may seem surprising, but it usually takes only a couple of days to write a short plot of a novel on paper. The moment I did this for White Raven, I was already familiar with Vraigo, Kenush, druids, and my other favorite characters. Unfortunately, no one, except for me, could see all of them among the compact lines of the draft.
So that the reader would be able to feel the living and vibrant story of their adventures, I have to go to the second, more protracted and complex stage of the process. I sit at my computer and write a novel word by word. And each time it seems to me that I won't be able to reach the end of the story and will get stuck with my heroes in some trap in the middle of the dense.
9. Do you have any little fuzzy friends? Like a dog or a cat? Or any pets?
A. I love animals very much! Perhaps that is why people and animals almost always interact during the events in my books. I have a cat named Tishka. Some of his abilities even became an inspiration for some of the animal characters in the White Raven novel.
10. What is your "to die for" favorite food/foods to eat?
A. I love ice cream! I can eat it at any time and in any quantity. Just imagine that people here in Siberia can eat ice cream in the street in winter when we have a frost of -30 Celsius (-22 F)!
11. Do you have any advice for anyone that would like to be an author?
A. Writing a book is serious work. So, before you decide to go this way and spend your time on writing, you should make sure that you have something to say, and that you simply can't help saying it!
You can learn more about Irina's White Raven project and sign up for the chance to win a free copy at White Raven.
Irina and White Raven are also on Facebook
Praise for White Raven:
"Areya always needed a blade to protect it, but only a few can truly wield it. White Raven is a fantasy novel surrounding the Kingdom of Areya, enjoying its own harmony. Vraigo, known as the White Raven, knows it is up to him to recover Urart, the sword that blessed Areya with protection for quite some time. As time grows short, Vraigo realizes it all falls to him. White Raven is an excellent pick for lovers of fantasy and adventure, much recommended.” ~ The Midwest Book Review, Small Press Bookwatch: June 2012
White Raven pre-order promo?
Orders placed through the Light Messages before July 25 will be $12.00 per book instead of $16.95 (That's about a 30% savings).
Also, people who pre-order will receive a PERSONALIZED, signed post card from author Irina Lopatina. Postcards feature landscapes from Altai, Siberia––the inspiration for White Raven's Kingdom of Areya.
The promotion is extended to any readers that come from White Raven blog tour hosts for 14 days after the date of the tour stop. All you need to do is mention the blog name (The Avid Reader) you seen the promo on in the notes field and Light Messages will honor the promo deal.
The link to the page is: Light Messages
It can also be accessed from White Raven
1 comments:
Thank you, Nancy, for sharing the story of White Raven: The Sword of Northern Ancestors with your readers.
Post a Comment