Greenstone

by C E Johnson

  They emerged in a single file, garbed in leather jerkins and wool. Cameron stood in amazement and slowly turned a full revolution in place, observing the scene before him. “This is a tai chi moment that I will never forget.” He wordlessly directed his group to spread out on the grassy plain and he began to flow through the same graceful movements that Emily and her friends were performing. “Emily and I practiced tai chi together on the Island of Bashan,” he informed his squad. His warriors mirrored his actions, all in unison with his motions, occasionally pausing with wide-eyes to watch Ammolite artistically going through her own graceful routine.

  “You taught them?” Emily blinked in wonder as the first light of morning began to burn away the mist.

  Cameron nodded with a proud smile on his face. They all stayed in the field for a time after their exercises were over. Emily became friends with the warriors of Cameron’s clan, and Cameron spoke with her father and friends from Earth. Cameron also found time to interact with Dax, Xena, and Ammolite.

  He seems to enjoy animal links, Ammolite observed.

  Bondsmates were his primary field of study on Bashan, Emily informed Ammolite.

  Dark clouds drifted in and a warm rain began to fall. “Everyone come with me to the stables.” Cameron gestured for the group to follow him and they put the horses away in the stalls. “It’s time for me to give my gifts.” Once they were gathered, he began to speak slowly in a deep voice, telling of the history of the horse-clans and of the importance of a horse. He went over the mutual benefits of learning respect and trust, and of the power of a horse in war.

  Cameron then walked to the first stall. He discussed the temperament and history of the beautiful animal that he was standing next to, Beau. He went over the stallion’s predilections, strengths, and weaknesses. Beau was built for power and speed. Cameron told of the history of the sire, the father, and the dam, the mother. The horse’s lineage went back to Emily’s long dead stallion, Bronte. Cameron presented Beau to Emily, and continued to present a horse to each of her friends and to her father.

  This is an impressive horse, Xena thought to Emily as she padded forward to sniff her stallion. Emily closed her eyes, smelling freshly cut grass, leather, and eager velocity. She couldn’t wait to thunder across Acacia on her new warhorse.

  The rain tapered and for the rest of the day, Emily and Isabelle, along with riders of the horse-clan, taught Luke, Anna, and Elizabeth how to ride until their inner legs were starting to chafe, their hands became sore, and their muscles were aching. Luckily their heightened reflexes, strength, and balance allowed them to become adequate riders quite quickly, and they promised to read several books each evening on the art of horseback riding. The horse-clan was especially impressed with Isabelle as she floated elegantly on the wind astride her monstrous mare, Dormienda.

  The following day, while her friends practiced their riding, Ammolite, Cameron, Emily, and Dr. D discussed war planning. Dr. D pointed at the Western side of a map of Acacia. “I think our first trip should be to the land of the Javan, to Hadrian’s kingdom. We must attempt to raise an army to help with his release.”

  Ammolite was impressed with his idea. “Any troops that come from that area would be a secret weapon that Samil isn’t expecting.”

  “It’s a good idea, but will they even remember Hadrian?” Cameron looked doubtful. “There may be a new king on the throne who refuses to send any troops to help us. Plus, we would have to cross the desert.” He furrowed his brow, glancing in Emily’s direction. “Will your friends be able to make the journey?”

  “I think so,” Emily answered hesitantly. Am I making the right choice by allowing them to even stay on Acacia? She questioned herself. Doubt sent icy tendrils into her mind. She hated to show weakness in front of Cameron, but she felt confused when it came to her young friends. She had vowed to herself that she wouldn’t let her friends down.

  They’re becoming strong, Xena encouraged her, and someday soon we’ll fight well together.

  They’ll make it across the desert. Ammolite sounded so confident and sure of herself. I’ll watch over them and they’ll watch over you.

  “We must try,” Dr. D continued to study the map, “even several battalions of Javan would be important to us.” They may sway the balance of this war.

  Emily knew she had to help make the final decision. “Then we leave tomorrow.” She spoke firmly even though her resolve was weak. Inside herself, she felt flooded by a sense of dread at the dangers her friends would be exposed to on the journey. She promised herself she would do anything she could to protect them.

  They must learn to fight in real battles, Xena stressed. They must be tested.

  “I’ll help ready the horses.” Cameron nodded to Emily before striding out of the room.

  C H A P T E R 2 4

  Initiation

  Finally. Cain was confident that he could complete the mission of his maker. Sitting high in one of the enormous ironwood trees in a forest in central Acacia, he watched Emily and her companions plodding along below him on a carpeted path of needles and dead leaves. Samil had advised Cain on the reach of the girl’s ki, and he presumed he was just out of the distance of her mental radar. Evening was descending on Acacia, the favorite time of vampires, and Cain wanted to attack tonight. He glanced around him at his scouting team, a hand-picked group of vampire half-deads also perched in adjacent trees.

  “My Death-squad,” he murmured with satisfaction. They looked like a pride of lions ready for a kill, studying him with their dark eyes, waiting for his command. Samil had made sure Cain’s troops were fanatically loyal to him. Cain had other groups of half-deads under his command scattered across Acacia, all searching for Emily Dalton, but only one group was close enough to bolster his imminent attack. As several of his bands of half-deads had been killed by Acaceans and by dragons, Cain and his warriors now traveled primarily in the deepest darkness of night.

  “Will you contact Samil?” An adjacent vampire peered at him through the leaves. The half-dead was named Mors, and he was a high-ranking lieutenant in his army. He had jet black hair, dark eyes, a flat nose, and a cruel smile.

  “No, he’s far away, and the energy expenditure would be great.” Cain stared at Emily and her departing party. “Besides, if she’s as strong as Samil suggests, she might detect us and prepare for our attack.”

  “You don’t care about detection, you want the victory all for yourself.” Mors chuckled with a harsh laugh, awarding Cain a grin that was respectful, but somehow mocking at the same time.

  Cain felt his face go hard with anger. “If Samil knew of her location he would certainly come and kill her himself.” He leaned toward Mors. “I want our battalion to gut the witch and suck as much magus as possible from her.”

  “I can see your point.” The mocking grin disappeared from Mors’ face, and he clenched his jaw while gazing wistfully at the departing warriors. “Who knows what we will regain of our old selves after inhaling her death-smoke … if she’s as powerful as Samil claims.” Mors turned to Cain, his eyes dancing with a dark inner fire. “They say elf-magus is the best.” The vampires shared a dark laugh.

  “Organize the teams.” Cain nodded to Mors. “Soon we’ll listen to her choking on her own screams. I wish we could attack now, but we’ll have to wait for our slow half-dead brethren.”

  Cain’s primary coven of vampires was strong, but he hoped his approaching goblins and were-creatures would assure his victory. A regiment of goblins and were-creatures had been informed of his discovery and were only hours away, speeding toward his position. He descended from the ironwood noiselessly and watched Mors send vampire runners dashing away through the gathering darkness to form his forces. We’ll partake of her essence before the sun rises, he promised himself.

  Cain strode through the woods to his small pavilion where a goblin, his squire, was seated on a log by a small fire, gnawing on a bone. The goblin wore stained boiled leather and had a rusty shortsword at his side. The
flames licked hungrily at a small blackened creature skewered on a spit, looking suspiciously like a rat. Fat was dripping down into the fire, making sizzling noises. “Ready for your armor?” the goblin rasped while pulling a piece of meat off the carcass, grease dripping from his fingers.

  “Not yet.” Cain felt bitterly frustrated. “The battle is delayed.” He entered his tent and sat in an irritated huff. Listening to the wind drifting through the surrounding trees, he closed his eyes, slowed his breathing and tried to relax. As he drifted into a light sleep, he dreamed of who he once was before Ater.

  After a time, he was awakened by the rustle of his door-flap opening. Instantly ready for a fight, he jumped to his feet and spun with a dagger in hand. His goblin squire retreated a step, throwing up his arms in a warding gesture. “It’s time to prepare. The reinforcements are here.”

  Cain sighed and sheathed his dagger, “At last.”

  His goblin helped him don a snug-fitting padded doublet before fastening several plates of an enameled dark mail over the light jacket. The armor would be protective, without being too heavy. The goblin coughed, sounding like he was trying to clear his throat. “When will we attack?”

  “I wanted to attack in the middle of the night when my vampires are the most powerful, but the majority of your goblin brethren are late to arrive.” Cain balled his fists as his anger flared back in full force

  “Bad luck.” The goblin spat a piece of bone on the ground, before bringing forth a steel helm and a longsword in a plain leather scabbard.

  Mors stuck his head inside Cain’s tent. “Everyone is gathering.”

  Cain adjusted the sword on his belt before stalking impatiently out to meet his warriors, including his late arriving panting were-creatures and weary goblins. Glaring with annoyance at the position of the moon, he knew he only had a few hours until dawn. This battle had better go quickly, or the sun’s rays will weaken my Death-squad. Cain hurriedly reviewed his battle-plans with his amassed squads. “Guide the teams to their locations,” he ordered Mors. “The sun will rise soon. I’ll deal with the sentries myself.”

  Cain selected two of his strongest vampires and they jogged together toward the enemy encampment where they were pleased to discover only two sentries posted by a low fire. Signaling instructions with his hands, Cain waited until he was certain his warriors knew what was expected of them. They crept forward together, clinging to the inky darkness like deadly panthers. A light breeze, as quiet as a shadow, rustled the leaves, but this was the only noise to be heard upon their approach. Even in the dark, their eyesight was impeccable.

  Attacking simultaneously, they quietly knocked the surprised horse-clan guards unconscious and dragged them away from the camp. They took them to a deep gully, in a position where no death-smoke would drift toward their enemies.

  Cain leaned one of their dazed victims against a tall ironwood tree. This one’s mine, he thought selfishly. He felt mesmerized as he watched the faint arterial pulsation in the man’s neck in the moonlight. Unable to practice restraint any longer, he allowed his long canines to pierce skin and intima, sucking away life-blood and life-force magus, until the body erupted in death-smoke. As the mist of death washed over him and the new energy flowed in his soul, Cain felt positively electrified. He rapidly assimilated small fragments of knowledge and memories, filing away information that might help him in the impending attack.

  “We have to move.” Cain put a hand on the shoulder of each of his two warriors who were lying supine near to him. They were in a stunned and bewildered euphoria; their eyes were cloudy. They were in no rush, but Cain was impatient. After helping each to their feet, they dashed toward an elevated position on a small rise by the periphery of Emily’s camp where the bulk of the half-dead forces were amassing.

  Mors ran forward, looking excited and eager. “They’re ready, sir.” He gestured toward their army. Cain examined his half-deads. He lingered by the lead pack of were-creatures. They were all muscle and fur, impressive in their power. He could tell they could barely restrain their urge for blood, finding it difficult to await his signal. A lead were-wolf was pacing while peering back at him with its dark eyes. Rumbling deep growls, it opened and closed its jaws of white dagger-like teeth.

  “Soon,” Cain whispered to the wolf. It was as large as a full-grown man, able to run silent as death. The groups were ready to attack. “We will strangle them from three directions.” Cain looked to the dark sky. “Where is the dragon?”

  “Off hunting, leagues away.” Mors exchanged an excited glance with Cain. “We have time for our battle.”

  Cain sneered. “Then they’re defenseless. We will decimate our victims before they awake.” He peered through the gloom attempting to see the leader of the goblins, but he was on the other side of the camp. “Send the runners. The time has come.” Cain drew his sword. The whisper of steel gliding over leather never sounded so sweet.

  * * *

  Wake up! Danger! Emily opened her eyes to the warning of her ki. Jumping out of bed, she strained to hear the sound of battle, but she heard nothing. That was warning in itself. The lack of animal noises and birdsong suggested an enemy was close. She dressed in her leather armor and reached for her weapons, while simultaneously dream-linking a warning message to Cameron, and Dr. D. In a steady procession, the three began to quietly wake their warriors in close proximity.

  Emily’s mind expanded as Ammolite and Xena were instantly with her, all together in a tight mind-link, sharing information. I’m close, Ammolite informed her. I’ll fly there and be above your clearing in ten minutes. Be strong, little ones.

  I smell something evil close by. Xena sent Emily the smell of blood, darkness and death. An icy chill ran down her back.

  The warriors gathered up their weapons and Cameron organized his forces. He led half of his men quietly to their horses and the other half stayed near the center of the clearing. Emily checked over the armor of her friends, warning them, “Something dangerous is coming.”

  Tears formed in Elizabeth’s eyes. “What should we do?”

  Isabelle was faintly trembling, she whispered, “Should we run?”

  “No, stay in the camp. I’ll use a shield spell to help guard you.” Emily tried to appear brave as she reassured her friends, but her heart was hammering away. She would do everything in her power to keep them safe. “Stay together.” Luke was wide-eyed and silent, looking at his crossbow. Anna studied their position with a worried expression on her face. She ran her hand along her bow.

  Their first battle, Xena whispered, I can smell fear in each of them.

  “You can enter the combat if you want, or stay hidden.” Emily turned from her friends when she heard the first clang of steel meeting steel. “I’m going to help protect you.” The resounding metallic clashes rang though the still night air as sharp as a bell tolling.

  A three-pronged attack. Xena directed Emily’s attention to the important areas. Xena was already assessing the enemy. They’re well organized.

  Emily gasped as she watched vampires attack from one end of the field, fairly floating across the ground. They looked shocking, ruthless and hideous all merged into one. Their skin was a milky white, reflecting the scattered rays of moonlight to a similar degree as their plate mail, and both the male and female warriors were strikingly beautiful in an eerie way.

  Attacking from another side of the field were goblins who wore unadorned red boiled leather armor. They carried scimitar-shaped swords that glimmered red in the embers of the fires and they bore small shields of similar crimson leather drawn over wooden frames. They were dirty creatures with long hair and they were foul smelling even from this distance, stinking with an overpowering cloying stench of decay and vile malignancy. Making furtive, quick, darting motions, they were more like giant hunting rats than humans.

  From the third side of the field came were-creatures, led by a massive wolf, dark and vicious. Aside from wolves, there were bears and large dog-like canine creatures hurtlin
g out of the forest, smelling equally dreadful and shimmering with power. Jaws snapped and ripped at the air as they snarled in dark blurs of anger.

  Emily left her friends cowering in the center of their camp. Her chill intensified, and it had nothing to do with the cold of the deep, dark night. She tried to force away the nightmarish vision of some injury befalling them.

  They’re not yet ready to fight a battle. Xena studied their indecision. Shield them.

  Emily spoke her shield spell to include them in her umbrella of protection while deftly stringing Storm. I’ll battle first against the were-creatures on our side of the clearing, she whispered to Xena. At least I don’t have to start my fight against a vampire.

  You have difficulty killing anything that looks like a human, but you must not hesitate in this battle. Xena released a deep growl at the approaching horde. The lives of your friends are at stake.

  Emily ran her forefinger and thumb along the bowstring to test the strength. Storm felt strong in her hand and her red magestone ring was filling her with offensive power. Nock, draw, loose, she thought again and again as she emptied her quiver of arrows into the approaching were-creature horde. Like a knife through butter, the silver and redstone-tipped arrows ripped targets asunder, and the first cluster of beasts erupted into foul smoke. A faint breeze arose from nowhere. It tussled through the leaves of the dark forest, whispering secrets from the grave, tugging gently at the wafting patches of death-clouds.

  You must fight! Xena roared. They’ll overrun us if we wait. Emily gave a brave little nod. She threw her bow aside and warily drew her sword, approaching the melee with Xena at her side. The were-creatures didn’t delay, they pounced on her with a reckless abandon. Performing the sword-maneuvers ingrained into her fibers from early childhood, her ki guided her course and she discharged a determined attack.

  I’ve got the one behind you, Xena projected as she became weaponized, a black shadow of teeth and carnage. Xena seamlessly attacked offensively, while also guarding Emily. Putrid smoke clouded Emily’s vision and the clearing became mist, death, and screams. Guided by her inner voice, she continued her deadly motions, while casting several small fireballs in a flurry, murmuring, “Ardesco.”