Authors: Stephen Zimmer
“Wessachia is a long march from my home area,” Wulfstan remarked. “I have yet to visit your province.”
Ulfcytel grinned lightly. “It may be that distances seem shorter to a sky rider … you will have to forgive me for the manner in which I estimate such things.”
“I imagine so,” Wulfstan commented. He took a deep breath, and fixed the sky rider with a solemn look. “I know that you have little time. I also have little time, and an urgent task lies ahead of me. I am no sky rider, but time demands that I need a steed.”
The other man’s eyes widened considerably at the entreaty. It was clearly not the kind of request that he had been expecting. “You mean to ride a sky steed? And I sense that you have never ridden before?”
“Is it true that it is not unlike riding upon a horse, in some ways?” Wulfstan queried. His tone strongly conveyed that this was no jest, of any sort.
“In some ways, yes, but in others it is entirely different,” Ulfcytel said, regarding Wulfstan with an expression that displayed both caution and curiosity. “And no person can say how a man reacts when going up into the skies. I have seen many good warriors that wished to be sky riders, who were unable to master their fears when taken away from solid footing.”
“Then it is my risk to take,” Wulfstan replied, holding Ulfcytel’s gaze. “Can you tell me something of the use of the reins? In guiding the sky steeds?”
Ulfcytel shook his head. “Even if I did, you could not take one of the steeds out of here. I do not have such authority.”
Wulfstan could only speak the truth in response.
“This is a desperate time, Ulfcytel of Wessachia. You do not need me to tell you that … your own eyes tell you that truth. I was sent forth by Ealdorman Aelfric on a long journey last night, into land held by the enemy, and I have returned. I now have a task even more important, one that may bring hope to all of us. There is no time to seek out the greater thanes such as Aelfric, and I can only do this if I have a sky steed to ride. Know that this task will not take me into enemy lands, and I will return from it as well.”
“You cannot just take a sky steed, Wulfstan,” Ulfcytyel responded, in the kind of manner that displayed the sky rider’s disbelief that he even had to say the words aloud to Wulfstan.
“Do you not keep spare mounts?” Wulfstan pressed.
Ulfcytel grew silent for a moment. When he finally spoke again, his voice was laden with sorrow. “Great tragedy has befallen us this morning, and there are several more steeds than trained riders in this camp now.”
“I heard something of the fighting, after I had returned,” Wulfstan replied in a sympathetic voice. “Though I know little of what happened, I am very sorry to hear of any losses, as I have come to know loss well in the past couple of days.”
Ulfcytel gaze bored into Wulfstan, and his voice was suddenly tense. “And what is this matter that cannot wait?”
Wulfstan refused to give a falsehood to Ulfcytel, but he also did not choose to offer overly much in the way of explanation. He hoped that a vague answer would suffice, as full details would have the other thinking him to be lost in the grip of madness.
“I am going to try and summon some more help, from a source that none of our leaders has yet considered. I do not have time to try and convince them, nor would they give me the time, as they are now in the thick of the battle. That is why every moment counts, and why I am at your mercy, Ulfcytel,” Wulfstan said.
“Are you certain that the leaders of this army have not considered whatever it is that you wish to do?” Ulfcytel asked.
“Thanes … counts … ealdorman … none of them would try what I am to try, nor would they even think of what I wish to do. I have my reasons for keeping my own confidence on this. I am just one man, and would be asking you for just one steed, in order to gain a chance to bring great help to the Saxan defense,” Wulfstan said, his voice taking on a pleading tone.
“You appear convinced of this path that you wish to take, and I do not doubt your sincerity,” Ulfcytel stated, staring at Wulfstan intently, with a tense expression.
“It is a chance, nothing less, and nothing more. But it will not take a steed away from a rider, and will only risk the life of one man … a man who is willing to risk it. And you and I both know that many more men fall with each minute that passes,” Wulfstan continued.
The answer must have seemed reasonable enough to Ulfcytel, or at least it had connected to something personal, deep within him. The sky rider did not refuse Wulfstan outright, as he seemed to become lost for a moment in his private thoughts.
There was probably not one Saxan anywhere on the Plains of Athelney that day who would not welcome a new influx of support, during such a desperate time. Ulfcytel was no exception.
“Wulfstan of Sussachia, do you speak the truth in this? Do you really seek a new source of help? One that will matter?” Ulfcytel questioned him, his rigid gaze locked onto Wulfstan’s eyes.
Wulfstan did not so much as blink.
“Help that would not come from any other place, currently in the minds of those in authority over us,” Wulfstan answered firmly. “And yes, one that would matter greatly, if this help can indeed be gained.”
“Have you ridden horses before?” Ulfcytyl asked.
Wulfstan inclined his head. “I have.”
Slowly, Ulfcytel’s head tilted up and down in a slow nod, as he emerged from the depths of his rumination. It was clear that strong misgivings still tugged at the mind of the Saxan sky rider.
“I will take you with me, when I go up for my patrol of the rear areas. Know that this choice of yours is likely folly, but I will not stand in the way, if you truly think that you can find us some significant help. We have lost enough already,” Ulfcytel said, the look in his eyes becoming momentarily downcast.
“I cannot say whether my task will come to any good, but it will do no harm, and will not burden our army any worse … thank you, Ulfcytel,” Wulfstan responded, feeling relieved.
“I will not be able to make you a skilled rider. I only can give you what you need to survive a flight. You will follow my instructions very carefully, every word,” Ulfcytel said, in a sharper tone.
Wulfstan nodded resolutely. “I will.”
“Then wait here, and I will call you when I am ready,” Ulfcytel said. He shook his head again, as if he could not believe what he had just acquiesced to. “You are fortunate that I am going alone on patrol, for even if one other was with me, I do not doubt that you would be denied … perhaps we should set to flight now, before good sense comes over me.”
Walking away, Ulfcytel went back over to the two sentries, where he talked with them for a short while longer. He then walked into the midst of the Himmerosen, striding towards one steed in particular. He rubbed the side of its neck, and looked the winged creature over, as if evaluating its condition.
Ulfcytel straightened up, glanced over towards Wulfstan, and summoned him over. He then called out for some of the camp attendants. When they had come over to him, he instructed them to saddle and prepare the harness on the mount that he had been inspecting, one whose name was Spirit Wing. He exhorted them to make haste, and the camp attendants nodded dutifully, hurrying off.
While he and Wulfstan were waiting, he talked with Wulfstan about the Himmerosen, their nature, and the means of riding upon one in the sky. Ulfcytel proceeded very carefully over the basic methods of getting the Himmerosen to rise, to drop, to speed up, to slow down, or to turn to the left and right.
With the exception of rising and lowering in elevation, the general techniques were not all that different from those used with horses. Those similar techniques would guide the steed when it walked upon land as well. The close relation of most of the techniques to riding a horse came as a very welcome relief to Wulfstan, and he realized that it was probably one of the major elements in Ulfcytel’s decision.
As Wulfstan harbored a little experience with riding horses, he was not worried about retaining a majority of the instructions. Only the unfamiliar, primary elements involved in guiding the steed higher or lower once airborne, and the impending sensation of flight, would be of any significant challenge.
Wulfstan then strolled along with Ulfcytel as the sky rider proceeded over to another Himmerosen, which enthusiastically greeted the sky rider with anxious whines and several licks upon his face. Ulfcytel pressed his head to the forehead of the steed, while rubbing both sides of its broad head with his hands, demonstrating genuine affection for creature. He then took up the steed’s reins and held them loosely, as it was already saddled and harnessed.
“This is my steed, Cloud Runner,” Ulfcytel said. “He and I have soared across Saxan skies far too many times to count, and he has always brought me back to Saxan ground safely.”
Wulfstan could hear the strong resonance of the rider’s great esteem for his steed through the words. It was plainly evident that a powerful bond existed between the two of them.
It was not much longer before the two camp attendants approached them, leading a fully harnessed, saddled Spirit Wing forward on tethers. They brought the Himmerosen up alongside Cloud Runner.
The two creatures looked rested and healthy enough, with a luxuriant sheen to their black and brown coats. A spry look was reflected in their eyes, and their postures were firm and proud. Wulfstan’s steed was just a little shorter, and slightly narrower of back, than Ulfcytyl’s, minor differences that could only be noted when the two creatures were standing side by side.
“I took the liberty of choosing for you a steed that has good speed, and most excellent endurance,” Ulfcytel commented. “The fastest of our steeds must remain with the trained warriors, but this one will allow you to travel as far as any of their kind could. As you heard, his name is Spirit Wing … not too different of a name from Prince Aidan’s own horse … but it is a proper name, as I believe this one could reach Palladium itself if it tried.”
Wulfstan worked to take the comments in stride, though the Saxan sky rider had unintentionally struck very close to the essence of his upcoming mission. Endurance was exactly what Wulfstan needed in a sky steed, and he could not help but think that the All-Father had just given him a bountiful grace with the particular steed that Ulfcytel had selected.
“I want you to know that I am not seeking to go quite that far. I do intend to stay in the world,” Wulfstan replied, in jest, with a light-hearted smile.
“I hope you do as well,” Ulfcytel responded, with an easygoing laugh.
At Ulfctyel’s encouragement, Wulfstan placed his left foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up into the saddle. It was a movement that was more awkward than mounting a horse, as the saddle itself sat a little forward of the creature’s great set of wings.
In a practical sense, it was like he was seated on a six-limbed creature, positioned where the saddle was arranged close to the front limbs, at the base of the Himmeros’s burly neck. The location of the saddle, and some marked differences in the design of the saddle as compared to those used on horses, required a little adjustment on Wulfstan’s part. Otherwise, the feeling of sitting upon the creature was relatively familiar, not all that far removed from the sensation of being astride a horse.
Turning his head, he looked down the length of the creature’s body, studying the broad wings that were now partially outstretched. He marveled at the sculpted, pronounced musculature attached to those wings.
The awareness of what he was about to attempt was beginning to fully dawn on him, accelerating rapidly as he looked at the wings. Wulfstan began to feel his heart rate rise, the beats quickening as a feeling of lightheadedness came over him.
In only a few moments he was going to be experiencing flight, for the first time in his life. Even more daunting, everything he sought to do depended upon his acclimating immediately to the act of flying.
He had no way of knowing how he would react, once in the sky. As Ulfcytel had said, some who were excellent, brave warriors while on the ground could not adjust to the vastly different environment of flight.
Wulfstan would not know the answers for himself until he was already in the air. He wrenched his thoughts away from the troubling uncertainty, knowing that worrying about it could profit him nothing.
Ulfcytel had mounted by then, and brought his steed around to face Wulfstan’s. Ulfcytl guided Wulfstan through the securing of the additional leather straps that would hold him in the saddle, in the instance that the steed had to make any sudden movements, or go upside down.
Wulfstan tightened the straps and buckled their ends, gaining a little more confidence from the feeling of being anchored into the saddle. Ulfcytel then questioned Wulfstan briefly on the various methods for guiding the steeds in the air. Wulfstan answered the veteran sky rider to the other’s satisfaction.
“Are you ready?” Ulfcytel asked him, at the end of the questioning.
Wulfstan nodded, taking a deep breath. It was much more a matter of necessity rather than readiness, but what had to be done, had to be done. “As ready as I am ever going to be, with the time we have available to us.”
“Then let us take to the skies,” Ulfcytel said, with a hint of exuberance.
Turning his steed, Ulfcytel guided it forward. Wulfstan followed, as they worked their way over to a long stretch of open ground. Following Ulfcytel’s instigation, Cloud Runner sprang forward, and then leaped up, towards the sky, pumping its wings furiously. The creature began to ascend slowly, with each flex of its wings.
Wulfstan took another deep breath, and uttered a silent prayer to the Almighty. Gripping the reins, he let out a long, extended breath. Then, he executed the motions to command the steed to take flight, as he had been instructed, and followed in the wake of the sky rider.
Wulfstan’s sky steed bounded forward and then leaped. A rush of adrenaline manifested with the explosion of movement, and escalated within Wulfstan, as the Himmeros’ wings clung to the air and lifted them off of the ground. His stomach felt queasy, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to avoid becoming too disoriented. He felt a strong, constant pull at his back, causing him to brace his feet in the stirrups and hold onto the reins firmly. The air beat incessantly against his face while the steed’s wings pumped vigorously, and he felt immensely glad for the securing straps as the Himmeros went into a steep incline.