by Wacht, Peter
“Kaylie, stay with the rear guard. Do you remember when I was showing you how to fight Ogren with the Talent?”
“Yes, Thomas,” she said, recalling the lessons clearly, as well as their difficulty.
“Then consider this your opportunity for real practice. If any Ogren get too close, do whatever you can to keep them off of us.”
Kaylie nodded, finding her place in the back of the formation as he had asked.
Thomas then took his place at the head of the column, nodding to Asmera to begin the march. She turned due north, grimacing with reluctance as she knew that several massive Pits, some large enough to swallow small towns, lurked just ahead.
Giving his horse his reins, and confident that his well-trained mount would follow the other battle steeds, Thomas took hold of the Talent and focused on what lay ahead. Drawing on the natural magic of the world, Thomas directed the energy to their front, applying it to the sand their horses now trudged through. In seconds, the soft sound of hooves gliding through the loose, granular flakes became a hard pounding.
Thomas had applied the power that he controlled to the sand, hardening it instantaneously into glass, knowing that the heat of the Talent would transform the fine crystals and leave the Marchers with a solid, cool surface upon which to make their escape.
Asmera noted the change in their path immediately, at first surprised, then she smiled to herself. She should have remembered that Thomas always had a trick or two up his sleeve. She increased the speed of the small party to a trot, then a steady gallop, confident that their way out of the Pits would remain clear so long as Thomas could create the track upon which their lives now depended.
Kaylie glanced back repeatedly, worry troubling her. She knew Ogren were near. She could feel them, the familiar cloud of darkness drawing inexorably closer. And then the massive beasts appeared, roaring and shouting their war cries. Although the Marchers had gained some distance on their pursuers, the Shade driving the Ogren quickly realized that the Marchers’ escape path would benefit his beasts as well.
The long strides of the Ogren allowed the monsters to gain quickly on the fleeing Marchers as they raced across the glass track in pursuit. In just minutes, several of the dark creatures were no more than twenty yards behind, screaming in rage as they waved their weapons above their heads, anticipating the feast that they would have upon catching their quarry.
Grasping hold of the Talent, Kaylie tried to concentrate and remember what Thomas had shown her just a few days before. But riding a galloping horse and maintaining control of the Talent proved more difficult than she had expected. Fear coursed through her as she saw one Ogren outpace the others, now no more than a yard or two behind. The dark creature would be on them in seconds. The Marchers in the rear guard were preparing to turn and fight, but Kaylie couldn’t allow that as she knew the likely result. There were simply too many Ogren. That fear helped her hone her control, and she decided to use what Thomas had created for their escape to her advantage.
Directing the Talent onto the path behind them, small spikes of glass began to appear. At first the pursuing Ogren didn’t slow, simply crushing the small outcroppings with their feet. But as Kaylie became more confident in what she was doing, the sharp glass spikes grew larger, the needle-sharp points shooting up from the path and curling back toward the hunters. Quickly reaching knee height, the Ogren could no longer ignore the shards of curved glass, the thick, spiked stilettos forcing them to slow down and swing their battle axes in front of them to clear the way.
That bought the Marchers a precious few more seconds. Now confident in her ability, Kaylie refined her touch. Knowing that the Ogren could simply knock down whatever she created, she realized that timing was all important. She waited for the Ogren to once again gain speed, allowing their path to remain clear for the moment. Free from any barriers, the dark creatures drew closer once more, and this time Kaylie knew exactly what to do.
Applying the Talent, massive spikes of glass grew behind the Marchers in less than a second, the glass spears sloping toward the oncoming Ogren, the massive beasts unable to slow in time. The dark creatures’ momentum forced the spikes through their chests and guts, the shards of glass puncturing whatever few pieces of stolen armor they may have worn and their hardened skin. As the bulk of the Ogren caught up to those most anxious for the kill, the few Ogren that had succeeded in escaping the trap were shoved forward by the approaching beasts, forcing them onto the rapidly sprouting glass spikes.
The Ogren advance came to an abrupt halt, as the Shade had the dozen Ogren impaled on the glass thrown off the shimmering path into the sand. Knowing now what it faced, the Shade brought some semblance of order to its beasts, having the dark creatures start off again after the Marchers at a slower but steady pace.
Looking back over his shoulder and impressed by Kaylie’s handiwork, Thomas kept his attention focused on his task of creating their escape route.
“Asmera, how far out are we?”
Asmera knew that Thomas referred to the Great Pit, their galloping mounts having taken them out over the largest Pit in the desert, one that could swallow a small city. She had told him about it the night before, the last major obstacle before they’d be free of the Pits.
She understood what Thomas was thinking. “We’re far enough.”
Thomas nodded then stopped his horse, the Marchers streaking past him. Kaylie looked at him quizzically as she rode by, wondering what he was about to do next. The Marchers stopped a few hundred yards ahead, still in battle formation.
Thomas took his place in the middle of the glass path. He watched the Ogrens’ unwavering approach, just a hundred yards away now. The front ranks, unable to control their blood lust upon seeing their prey having come to a stop, sprinted forward, seeking to close the distance. The Shade, in the middle of the beasts, hesitated, perhaps sensing that something was off.
He should, thought Thomas. Keeping his hold on the Talent so as to maintain the glass path that he had created for the Marchers, he took a small sliver of the energy he controlled, turning it over and over in his hands. The small sliver grew into a ball of white flame, spinning faster and faster, increasing in size every time it rotated. When the first Ogren was only yards away, sword raised high to cleave Thomas in two, the Highland Lord threw the ball of energy down onto the path the Marchers had used, the track upon which the Ogren now sprinted.
The energy burst through the glass, the tremendous heat melting the bindings that held the sand crystals together. To the shock of the Shade and Ogren, the glass disintegrated. The once solid path transformed once more to sand, the sand of the Great Pit, which hungrily reached for the Ogren that now stood upon it. The massive bulk of the Ogren gave the beasts little chance. With no solid ground for miles around, many of the Ogren disappeared in the blink of an eye while others continued to struggle for as long as possible, not knowing that their efforts were in vain and that their movement actually quickened their deadly descent into the Great Pit.
Thomas watched for a moment, unmoved by the cries of distress and fear as the beasts disappeared below the sand, not leaving a trace. When the Shade finally sank beneath the feathery crystals, its head covered by the soft sand whipped up by the breeze, Thomas turned his mount back to his Marchers and trotted slowly toward them.
CHAPTER SIXTY SIX
Mine
The remainder of the Marchers’ time in the Pits proved uneventful. Wanting to avoid any repeat of Ogren streaming out of one of the many crevices that dotted the landscape to the west, Thomas continued to use the Talent to create a solid, glass path for them across the sandy waste. Although any dark creature near them that had mastered Dark Magic could sense such continuous use of the Talent and use it to track them, Thomas wasn’t concerned as he broke the trail behind them once they had traveled a good distance so that there could be no easy pursuit.
A day later, the Marchers had reached the northern edge of the Clanwar Desert, the eastern peaks of the mountain
s of Kenmare off to their west.
“I would like to continue with you, Thomas. But I can’t. It seems that I will have to end my wandering before it has barely begun.”
The daughter of the Ashanti chieftain had gratefully accepted supplies from the Marchers and was filling her saddlebags, preparing to make the long trip back through the Pits.
“What of the dark creatures?” asked Kaylie, worried for her newfound friend.
“Thank you for your concern, Kaylie. But it’s nothing to worry about. Denega and I can avoid them easily.”
“You’ll be all right with Denega?” asked Thomas. The desert warrior had recovered some of his strength, although his wounds would continue to pain him for several weeks until they healed.
“More than all right,” replied Asmera, a suggestive twinkle in her eyes. “Besides, the Desert Clans must know of the Ogren incursions. We must take action and clear the Desert, then turn our attention to larger worries.”
Thomas nodded in understanding. “I can offer you several Marchers if you think they would be of assistance.”
“Thank you, Thomas, but no. Your need is greater.”
Asmera hugged Thomas before mounting her horse and making sure that the Marchers had gotten Denega in the saddle as well. The desert fighter seemed to be doing much better -– smiling every time Asmera looked at him, which was frequently — but his face was still wan and drawn.
“Remember how I left because I wasn’t ready to marry?” asked Asmera, speaking directly to Kaylie. “That wasn’t entirely correct. I was ready, but I was still mulling my options. Although several young men had declared their intentions, the one who had mattered most had not.”
“Denega?”
“Yes. We met several summers ago, and since then he’s made it a point to visit every year since. He’s a brave warrior and a good man. And the fact that he’s son of the Berber chief won’t hurt matters either.”
“What are Denega’s thoughts on the matter?”
The Berber Clan warrior had benefited from the aid offered by the Marchers and was able to sit a horse so long as the travel was slow. But he still struggled with the pain of his wounds and tired easily. It would mean a slow return with frequent stops.
“It’s a long trip back. I’ll make the most of it and find out.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” laughed Kaylie.
“Remember my advice, Kaylie,” whispered Asmera, reaching across her saddle and pulling the Princess of Fal Carrach into a hug. “At some point you must share your feelings.”
CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN
Mountain Man
“They’re not really mountains,” objected Oso, surveying the smaller peaks that rose before the Marchers and comparing them to the towering spires of the Highlands. But he was pleased nonetheless because of the familiarity of the terrain. The cooler, crisp air that became thinner as they climbed up to and through the first pass into the Kenmare Mountains raised the Marchers’ spirits. That and the fact that there had been no sign of dark creatures since the attack in the Pits. Thomas regularly used the Talent to search the area, asking Kaylie to do the same, so that she could hone her skill and ensure that no surprises lay in wait.
Mid-morning approached, the Marchers leading their horses down a small, steep path, when the group came to an unexpected stop. Kaylie peeked around the many large Marchers assembled in front of her, then stepped back in surprise. A massive warrior stood in front of them, blocking their way. Wearing leather armor that barely fit his broad, hulking frame, the fighter wore a huge sword on his back and carried a wickedly curved axe in a hand that seemed large enough to crush a small boulder.
Thomas stepped forward, a smile on his face. Kaylie was worried for a moment. She trusted in Thomas’ fighting skill, but she feared for him if he were to challenge the man who stood calmly barring the tortuous path. She soon realized that her concern was unnecessary. As Thomas approached, the warrior’s stoic expression broke into a grin, and he pulled Thomas into a hug that likely would have crushed a bear. Releasing one another, Thomas and the hulking warrior talked for a few minutes, the small band of Marchers behind them forgotten for the moment.
Oso watched the exchange, exhaling what appeared to be a sigh of relief. “I’m glad he’s a friend, as I would not want to get on that man’s bad side. He could probably cut me in half with that axe of his.”
“It seems that everywhere we go, Thomas has a friend or two stashed away that we know nothing about.”
Again Kaylie realized that she had no knowledge of a large part of Thomas’ life. He had traveled to many of the Kingdoms, having all manner of friends and acquaintances, while for the most part she had remained in or near Fal Carrach. To say nothing of what he had experienced as a Sylvan Warrior.
“Better a friend than an enemy,” stated Oso. “I didn’t have the chance to speak with him, but I remember him from our fight against Rodric in the Highlands. He’s a Sylvan Warrior, and he’s been helping Anara and the Highland chiefs clear the northern range of dark creatures.”
“Yes, another Sylvan Warrior,” said Aric, stepping forward to join them. The Marcher was pleased, captured by the mystical nature of the small band of warriors charged with protecting the Kingdoms from the Shadow Lord and his servants.
“How do you know he’s a Sylvan Warrior?” asked Kaylie.
“The necklace with the unicorn horn,” replied Aric. “It looks just like the one Lord Thomas wears.”
“I need to speak with him,” said Oso. “Any man with an axe like that could likely offer some good advice on how to fight Ogren.”
Thomas concluded his conversation a few minutes later. The tall warrior, who resembled a walking mountain, slapped him on the back, then trotted down the path with an unexpected grace and dexterity, disappearing among the crags and fissures along the trail.
Thomas approached the Marchers to share what he had learned from Catal Huyuk, the Sylvan Warrior charged with protecting these mountains.
“The Ogren we met in the desert are nothing compared to the raiding parties here in the Kenmare Mountains,” he explained. “Apparently the dark creatures have been infiltrating these peaks for some time, but even more so during the last few weeks, likely taking advantage of our focus on the northern Highlands. Kenmare doesn’t have a fighting force like the Marchers, so they’re struggling to keep the dark creatures in the mountains and away from the farmsteads to the west. Catal Huyuk will accompany us through the mountains, as he’s seen more and more activity by the Shadow Lord’s servants with no good cause behind it. Once he gets us through the peaks, he’ll return to the northern Highlands to help Anara.”
“Could all the dark creatures be here because of us?” asked Kaylie. “Are we being tracked in some way?”
“You could be right, Kaylie,” admitted Thomas. “Remember, use of the Talent, as we’ve been doing, can be detected by some of the Shadow Lord’s creatures. So they could be using that to find us, though we didn’t have much choice in the Clanwar Desert. I have no doubt that the Shadow Lord does not want us to achieve our objective, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a general sense of the direction that we’re going, but it’s a risk that we can’t avoid. We’ll just need to be careful in the use of the Talent and keep our eyes open. How fast we travel might be our best defense against further attack.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then let’s get moving.” Kaylie pulled on her horse’s reins, leading the way down the path, the Marchers falling in line behind her.
“Catal Huyuk? Wasn’t that an ancient city that disappeared a thousand years ago?” asked Oso, mulling the name of their new friend and remembering how easily he tore through Rodric’s Ogren in the Highlands.
“It was,” replied Thomas, surprised by the large Highlander’s knowledge.
“It’s fitting, then. He’s about as large as a small city.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that,” laughed Thomas. “He doesn’t always have a sense of humor.”
&
nbsp; “Don’t worry about that,” replied Oso. “I know when to keep my mouth shut. I don’t plan on irritating him. I just have a few questions for him. Besides, I’m just glad to have another blade with us.”
CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT
Leap of Faith
Upon making camp in a hidden glade along the crest of one of the Kenmare peaks that provided a view for several miles around in all directions, the Marchers banked their fires, wanting to keep their presence hidden from any searching eyes as a moonless night fell upon the land. Catal Huyuk did not return to the site until just past midnight. Thomas had been waiting for him. Kaylie had first watch, and she observed them talking for several minutes in hushed tones before they both walked off between the surrounding trees. When Aric came to relieve her and she settled under her blankets she found it difficult to fall asleep. Something clearly had worried Thomas and the broad, imposing Sylvan Warrior, which meant that she had cause to worry as well.
The next day began with quiet efficiency, the Marchers breaking camp quickly and heading deeper into the Kenmarian heights. As the day wore on, however, the small group became edgy, even with their massive guide calmly leading the way. He had warned of the many Ogren raiding parties apparently wandering in the mountains with no apparent purpose and their resulting need to remain wary. Though dark creatures had not been sighted, the Marchers expected that if only by chance it would likely only be a matter of time before the Ogren found them. Circumstances changed for the worse shortly after midday.
“Ogren. Getting closer,” said Thomas.
“Agreed,” replied Catal Huyuk, loquacious as ever.
“I don’t think they know where we are specifically, but it won’t take them long to locate us.”
For a moment, Thomas wished that Beluil had continued with them beyond the Clanwar Desert. His senses and ferocity, as well as his ability to find the wolf packs of Kenmare, would have proved useful. But Thomas had given his friend another task that would take him back to the Highlands.