by Sharon Gibbs
Christopher trod with care. His headache had returned and had become a constant throb. As he entered a shadowy patch along the path, his way was blocked by an immense pile of stone. Veering to avoid the obstruction, he slipped on the loose shale strewn across the path by the collapse. Goodwin looked back as he heard his friend curse.
‘Are you alright, Christopher?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said as he rested against the rocky side of the pass and waited not only for the pain in his knee to subside but his head to stop pounding. ‘We’ll have to go easy through here on the horses. If they race through this shale they’ll fall.’ He took a few deep, cleansing breaths and the pain in his head eased.
Archer’s light step saw him reach the end of the passage well before the other two, and he scanned the lay of the land before he turned back to join them.
‘The crag ends around the next bend,’ he said. ‘We’ll need to head out to the east.’
As Christopher approached the exit, the mouth of the crag widened. Its sheer-faced sides gave way to gentle, undulating slopes which trailed down to the edge of the basin. The land before them was coated in a fine mist of rain which glistened under the luminance of the moon. Around the edge of the basin a myriad of vegetation formed a thick band. From young sapling trees to the majestic giants that had survived the passage of time, the foliage created a haven of shadows at the base of the range. At the far curve of the arc a small copse of trees permeated to block their view of the valley beyond. Over to the west, the Barrobourgh forest loomed in the distance. Its impenetrable barrier extended north and sealed off the valley as far as the eye could see in the dim light. At the crag’s mouth, bracken sprouted interwoven with teaberry bushes and the three men slipped unhindered into the safety of the undergrowth.
Archer crept through the foliage, camouflaged from view, his lithe form adapting to his surroundings with ease. His skill as a tracker was predominant with each step he took, and the other two followed not far behind him. Ahead of them, he made his way around the arc of the basin.
As the sky lit up with a flash, Archer paused to assess their position. Not too far behind him, Goodwin and Christopher crept through the shadows, and when lightning flashed across the heaven it brightened their surroundings and they froze. Once the ghostly light of the moon returned they continued along as the echo of thunder rumbled through the valley.
Christopher stepped with ease over the damp leaf litter but as tremors rippled the earth, his head again pounded and his vision blurred. He stumbled and the world around him spun out of control. Thrusting his hands out, he tried desperately to steady himself as his knees gave way and he sank to the ground.
‘Christopher! Are you alright?’ Goodwin rushed to his side.
‘I—I’m fine. I must have tripped.’ Christopher lay sprawled on the ground, his vision foggy and his head aching. He tried to sit up but the world teetered again and he was forced to grab onto the surrounding foliage to steady himself.
Goodwin grasped hold of his shoulders.
‘I don’t think you’re fine. You can’t even sit on your own.’ He reached up and touched the dark trickle that ran down Christopher’s face.
Christopher blinked rapidly and the fog dissipated. Within minutes the world stopped its rollercoaster ride and righted itself. Goodwin let go of his friend as he steadied, and pulled out his water skin.
‘Here, have a drink,’ he said as he uncorked the bladder and handed it over. ‘We’re not going any further.’ He cupped his hands to his mouth and released the hoot of the Cane owl three times to recall Archer. Within seconds they heard the reply and Goodwin settled on the ground next to his friend while they waited. ‘What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since we set out from The Dale.’
‘I’m not sure what it is. My head constantly throbs and it’s as if my strength vanishes for a second. Promise me, Goodwin. If anything should happen—’
‘You said it yourself. You’re fine. Nothing’s going to happen—’
‘But if it does. Promise me you’ll look out for Elle.’
Goodwin stared at his friend.
‘Promise me.’
‘I’ll take care of her. I’ll watch over her until the last breath leaves my body. I promise you, Christopher, I’ll take care of your love.’
As Archer slipped towards them in the darkness he signalled his approach.
‘What’s going on?’
‘We need to head back. Christopher’s not fit to continue,’ Goodwin said as he rose to stand.
‘No. I’m alright,’ Christopher insisted. ‘We’ll keep going.’
‘You couldn’t even sit up a minute ago without help.’
‘Take him back to the pass,’ Archer said. ‘I’ll meet you there once I’ve had a look beyond the far end of the basin. Besides, it’ll be quicker if I go alone.’
Standing, Goodwin reached out to help Christopher to his feet.
‘Archer, I’m fine.’
‘Sorry, Christopher. I’m pulling rank. Goodwin take him back and wait at the pass.’
<><><>
The sweet pungent aroma of sodden leaf litter surrounded Archer as he ducked under straggling young tree limbs and crept through the copse at the far end of the basin. As he approached the edge of their sinewy growth he stopped. His position provided him a clear view of the valley on the far side of the copse. Above him, dark clouds swept in to briefly cover the moon and the landscape plunged into darkness before they drifted on and moonlight returned to flood the valley.
Through the flashes above him and the intermittent glow of the moon, he watched, safe within the growth of the trees, to spy on the man out in the field. He watched as he wielded an object over his head and when he slammed it down into the earth, sparks flew from the sod to shoot up and illuminate the field before they faded away. The ground beneath Archer’s leather boots vibrated and shook the shale on the slope, until it tumbled and slid down to its base. Archer reached out and grasped a nearby branch as the muscles in his legs flexed and contracted to keep him upright. Finally, witnessing all that he needed to, and with his heart pounding in his chest, he left the confines of the trees and retraced his steps back to the pass.
<><><>
Behind Archer at the far end of the field, Zute swung the broad-axe over his head. His arms strained and he roared as he drew power into the head of the axe. When the steel weapon had taken its fill he thrust the metal into the ground to send a spray of sod, rock and sparks into the air. The earth groaned and shook with each strike of the axe and as the earth gave way to his magical force, a fissure opened up in the crust. The zing of sulphur permeated the air, and Zute puffed out his chest. He bellowed at the earth to release its gifts to him and as he did so his winged beasts, the abominations which had been created with his dark magic, paced back and forth along the widening crack in the earth. They yapped and squealed while close by, Athena watched her Lord draw his dark magic from the realm.
<><><>
On the far side of the crag, in the nook where they had camped, Elle pushed the cup Henry held towards his mouth. ‘Here, drink some more,’ she said and turned her attention back to Clarence.
‘What, dear? Oh yes,’ Henry said as he raised his shaky hands and lifted the water to his lips.
Jack returned to Elle’s side and dropped to his knees, handing her a fresh wad of linen. ‘How are they?’
She removed the soaked material from Clarence’s brow and a drop of rain splashed on his cheek. Her nose tingled with the bloody odour on the cloth, and she tossed it towards the dying embers of the fire.’
‘Henry’s still dazed and a little muddled, but seems to be regaining his senses. And apart from the gash on our friend here’s forehead, I think he will be fine. As soon as he recovers, he’ll be able to heal his own wound.’
Clarence closed his eyes and relaxed back against the wheel of the wagon as their voices buzzed in his ears. The world around him seemed to have righted itself and apart from the cons
tant throb in his head, he felt quite normal again. ‘Is anyone else injured?’
Jack placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. ‘Everyone else is fine. Whatever happened, it only affected you and Henry.’
‘It’s the gift. I first noticed it back in The Dale, the night the beasts came for the axe.’ Clarence opened his eyes and looked at Jack. ‘I think it’s the shift in the balance of power. The Dark Lord is asserting his authority now that he has returned, and the Tree of Life cannot disperse the influx he’s creating. It will have had an impact on Christopher as well. We must go through the crag.’
Elle’s lip quivered and she removed the cloth from his head. ‘You’re not fit to travel and neither is Henry.’
‘Fit or not, Christopher could be in danger. We need to be on the move.’ He touched the gash on his forehead and mumbled a few words to speed up the healing of the wound.
Jack stood and gazed over at the crag’s entrance. ‘Zane should be back anytime now and then we’ll know if we can take the wagons and horses. Don’t worry, Clarence, we’ll be on our way soon.’ He glanced up at the sky and a fine mist coated his face. ‘Men! Pack up camp!’
Henry’s head snapped up and he looked at Elle. ‘What’s going on, and what’s that funny smell?’
<><><>
A single hoot of the Cane owl echoed in the early morning silence and not long after they’d heard the signal, Christopher and Goodwin saw Archer emerge from the thicket. The silver light of the night had long ago vanished and the sky overhead was pocketed with patches of gloom as a blanket of grey seeped up the valley towards the pass.
‘It doesn’t look good,’ Archer said as he neared the mouth to the crag. ‘He’s there, and I recognised the Sorceress. There were several of those flying creatures we encountered back in The Dale, and beyond them is a small cluster of tents. Who knows what lays waiting, but at least I saw no armed force—’ Archer’s body stiffened. He craned his neck and scanned the dark shadows on the far side of the crag. He was sure he’d heard something? There it was again. A low growl rippled from a bush on the opposite edge of the passage as something slunk from the darkness and entered the mouth. He was sure he saw two ruby red orbs disappear into the shadows.
‘Don’t move!’ he said as the movement again caught his eye and he slipped his hand towards his dagger. Clasping the hilt, he drew it from its leather scabbard. Christopher spied the creature as it slinked their way, and his hand itched to grasp the sword on his back. He refrained from making any sudden movement and instead eased his fingers to the handle of the slender blade at his side. His fingers touched the soft leather sheath only to find the blade missing.
All three men eyed the beast as it moved forward from the shadows and into the early morning dim of the pass. With its ears flattened against its black bony head, the creature snarled revealing a set of razor sharp teeth as it stalked towards them snapping its jowls. Its rapid head movements flicked the saliva from its mouth and it sucked in the fear of its prey trapped by the walls at their back. Glistening ruby orbs fixated on its vulnerable prey and with every step the winged beast took, its taut muscles rippled under its leathery hide.
Goodwin’s pulse raced as he watched the creature’s agile form, waiting for the tell-tale sign he knew would come all too soon. His ears hummed, his senses heightened, and he dared not take his eyes off the strange hideous animal.
Christopher’s eyes blurred. The stabbing in his head had returned and he fought against the blinding pain. What’s wrong with me? he thought. No, not now! He leant heavily against Goodwin, the beast’s eyes mere red blurs in the fog ahead. He could almost make out the dark shape of the creature, but it seemed low to the ground and when he felt Goodwin’s body tense he thrust both hands out in an effort to hold the creature at bay.
A boom echoed through the pass as the air around Christopher rushed forward. Goodwin was thrust to the side, and the sudden rush of escaping air sent Archer hurtling out the mouth of the pass. Christopher heard raised voices, and as another clap ricocheted forward the air around them was pushed through the pass. Squeals of pain screeched in his ears and the ache in his head vanished, clearing his vision.
He turned towards the sound to see the beast flailing around just outside the entrance of the path in the daylight. Out in the open the creature struggled, dragging its wings on the ground as it writhed in pain. Skittering towards the entrance again, Henry thrust his arms forward and pushed the creature further out into sunlight. Searing pain scalded the animal’s leathery skin and smoke whirled up from its hide in thin plumes. The creature spread its wings, and wailing in pain, took flight. It darted from the ground in its hurry and erratically flew towards the safety of the forest.
‘Goodwin! Christopher!’ Clarence dashed to their side. ‘Are you hurt?’
Goodwin eased himself up to sit and rubbed his jaw. He was sure the bruise would last a week if not longer. ‘I’ll survive. Where’s Archer?’ He looked towards the mouth of the pass and Archer staggered into view.
‘He’s over here,’ Henry called back. ‘Archer, are you alright?’
He nodded, catching his breath. ‘Just winded. I’m fine.’
Henry helped Archer as he caught his breath. The rest of their companions arrived with their horses in tow, and Elle dropped her reins and dashed to Christopher’s side. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing. Luckily Clarence arrived in time.’
Clarence helped Christopher up and slapped him on the back. ‘Wasn’t me, lad. You have your grandfather to thank.’
‘Pish posh, Clarence,’ Henry muttered as he shook the mud from the hem of his dampened cloak. ‘I merely blew that thing out of the pass. Well, now everyone’s fine. What did you three find out?’
Chapter Forty-five
In the early morning dim, Zute thrust his axe aside and as it bounced upon the cold wet earth he called to the elements of nature. Drizzle fell from the gloom overhead to lacquer his skin in a glistening sheen, and from the grass beneath his feet to the delicate flowers which grew by the river’s edge, he sucked the life from it all. Trees withered, their leafy canopies fell to the moistened earth in clusters followed by their shrivelled branches. The pines in the forest mere meters away let loose their needles, carpeting the forest in a brittle blanket of faded green. Zute’s leather garments flapped in the strengthening gusts as he called the mountains to release their power to his whim. Cool mountain air raced from the snow-laden peaks and teemed across the wilting yellowed grasslands, howling as a banshee in the dead of night. Zute stood erect, his bare chest heaving as he drew in the powerful force of his surroundings and the darkening clouds overhead ceased their gentle sprinkle to patter large drops upon the Lord. Thrust about in the gusts, branches snapped from their trunks to tumble and crash to the earth.
Retreating further into the depths of their haven, the pack whined and yapped as dim light filtered in through the dead wood. A sudden shriek, louder than that of the pack rang out, catching Zute’s attention. Again came the cry of distress and as the Dark Lord scanned the skies he recognised his alpha, Garlon’s cries. The animal darted erratically through the sky, trying to evade the scorching light of the morning sun. His skin blistered and bubbled under the glare, and the beast’s swollen burnt flesh protruded from its leathery hide. The cast iron scales on his wings smouldered, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake as he dashed for the sanctuary of the dark forest. Hours ago his pack had left their master to return to the confines of their wooded haven and now they too screeched in distress as they watched their leader flee from the light.
As Zute watched Garlon disappear, he caught a glimpse of movement through an outcrop of trees. ‘Wizards!’ he growled and a muscle flicked in his temple. Clenching his hands, he dropped down on one knee and thrust both fists into the muddy earth. Zute’s muscles strained and bulged as he summoned the strength needed to protect his creations. Rising from the soil he struggled upright as he hauled in clenched fists a shimmering veil of death from
the fracture he’d created.
With tendons taut and his anger rife he rose erect. In his hands he held the coming of death and as the clouds churned overhead and lightning split the sky the winds hastened to match their speed. Gusts whirled to whip up decaying debris and suck them into a swirl, and before the veil Zute had conjured, a great twirling funnel appeared. Under the darkening skies the echo of thunder rumbled through the valley and lightning shot from the heavens to sear across the sky toward the mountainous range.
Athena pushed her hair out of her eyes as she spied cerulean orbs rise from the depths of the crevice. She watched as her lover commanded them forth and with a flick of his hand thrust them from the veil, into the rotating winds of the funnel. As each one entered the eye of the storm it was encased with dry foliage and pushed out the other side. From the whirling winds, the souls from the Underlands emerged in their newly created forms and they staggered as they took their first tentative steps. With their new bodies made up of decaying matter, these bewitched lifeless souls, shaped again as they were when alive, turned to stare at their master and their casings crackled and popped with their movement.
A wicked smile spread across the Dark Lord’s face and he spoke to his creations. ‘You are bound by your oath. An army of death is what I seek, and the time has come for you to fulfil the vow you made long ago. Go forth and seek out our foe for your time in this realm has begun.’
The resurrected army snarled and growled with each plodding step, their gait unsure and slow as they moved away from the roaring wind funnel where another member entered to be recreated.
<><><>
On high alert, six soldiers left the confines of the crag to spread out and scour the basin. Jack stood steadfast as he issued commands. The leather armour he wore bore a great weight on his shoulders, and he held a firm grip on his sword as he watched his men advance into the field.
‘Secure the horses. We’ll move ahead on foot. Take only what’s necessary.’ Jack then looked to his first man, Goodwin, and nodded his head to Christopher. ‘James, Peter, are you ready? There’s no turning back from here.’