by Wacht, Peter
“Then let’s move,” rumbled the huge Sylvan Warrior.
Catal Huyuk increased his pace, the others following after, all becoming more tense and wary as the sense of approaching danger became more concrete. The Marchers remained alert, Thomas and Kaylie using the Talent from time to time to confirm what they suspected, though it wasn’t until late afternoon that their fears were made real.
“They know where we are,” said Thomas, having stepped his horse off the trail and taken a moment to use the Talent to search the surrounding area. “Three large bands are coming toward us.”
“How long?” asked Oso.
“Half hour at most.”
“Everyone, then, quickly,” said Catal Huyuk. “Follow me.”
Catal Huyuk broke into a run. The Marchers hurried after, urging their mounts after the formidable Sylvan Warrior. In minutes they had to pull up short. Catal Huyuk had led them to a ravine about twenty feet across that led out onto a small plateau. A drop of several hundred feet to the easternmost branch of the Crescent River threatened at the verge of the ravine.
“Quickly. Everyone across. We can defend ourselves on the other side.”
Catal Huyuk bent at his knees and in a single leap from a standing position easily launched himself across the open space, landing deftly on the far side.
Oso shrugged his shoulders, then circled his horse back around before urging his mount into a gallop. They jumped the ravine with a few feet to spare. The other Marchers quickly followed Oso’s lead.
In no time at all, Kaylie was left standing on the far side of the ravine with Thomas. Kaylie looked at Thomas with some trepidation, but she caught his small smile and brief nod. She took confidence in that. Giving Thomas a small nod as well, as if what she was about to do was a common occurrence for her, she pulled her horse back, then touched her heels to its flanks, urging the mare to a gallop.
Her horse easily vaulted the ravine, landing comfortably on the other side, which brought a huge smile to her face.
Just as Thomas’ horse prepared to leap the gap, a single Ogren burst from the brush behind them. The dark creature charged toward him, sprinting over the short distance so quickly that Thomas feared the beast would catch them before they made it across. Giving his horse its reins, he turned around in the saddle, pulling a throwing knife from his belt. Taking the tip of the blade between his fingers, with the dark creature about to lunge for him, he threw the blade behind him with a flick of his wrist. With the Ogren roaring in victory as it reached for the flank of Thomas’ horse, the dagger struck true, taking the huge beast through the right eye. As Thomas’ horse soared through the air and he grabbed frantically for its mane, the dark creature tumbled over the edge in silence.
Thomas still hadn’t gained control of the reins, so he wasn’t prepared for the jolt of the landing. The jarring impact rattled him to his bones, and he unwittingly pulled back on the one rein he had managed to grab a hold of. In response, his horse reared, and he fell off its back. He realized how close he was to the edge when his legs hung out over the open space of the ravine. As he felt himself beginning to slide backward, he scrabbled in the loose dirt with his hands, desperately seeking some kind of purchase but finding none. But before he could slip further over the edge, Catal Huyuk reached out with a giant hand just in time to grab his arm and pull him to safety.
“Probably a scout,” growled Catal Huyuk. “You need to be more careful.” With a grin, the large Sylvan Warrior helped him to his feet and patted him on the back.
“Not a word,” said Thomas, nodding his thanks to the mountain of a man who stood beside him. He took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his nerves. “Not a word.”
“What do you mean?” Kaylie asked, a spark of false innocence in her eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTY NINE
Over the Gap
The Marchers dismounted, allowing their horses to move away from the expected battlefield, as an occasional growl or snarl carried up from the lower heights in the direction from which the Marchers had just come. Oso hastily formed the Marchers into a battle line, bows at the ready, arrows stuck point first in the soft earth at their feet to speed each shot. Catal Huyuk stood at one end of the formation, massive axe in hand, staring intently at the forest on the other side of the crevice. He was calm, apparently unconcerned, yet his eyes danced with anticipation.
All was quiet, almost unnaturally so, as the constant chatter of the animals living in the sparse forest that blanketed these mountains slowly died away. There was nothing to see but the Marchers’ breath frosting in the cold air. Then the pounding began. Softly at first, then louder, the ground beginning to shake on the other side of the crevice. Then louder still, the rhythmic quality resembling the beat of the drum, as the steady tread of the approaching enemy came closer with each passing second.
When the first Ogren stepped from between the trees on the far side, the Marchers raised their bows, ready to release. Only Oso’s shouted command to hold fire stopped them. More Ogren began to appear, then even more, spilling out onto the small clearing. Soon several hundred of the dark creatures milled around uneasily, corralled by the split in the earth and the trees to either side. Many of the terrifying beasts roared in anger or frustration, seeing their prey just beyond the crevice, so close but still just beyond their reach. Surprisingly, none showed any inclination to attempt a crossing. In fact, with so many Ogren in such close proximity to one another, a few fights broke out, the massive beasts, aggressive by nature, not caring what they killed.
That changed when the Shade appeared. Gliding out from between the trees, the Ogren parted as it stepped gracefully to the gap. It stood there arrogantly, examining its quarry on the other side of the fissure. Behind it the Ogren grew quiet, compliant, clearly cowed by this dark creature that led them in the name of their master.
Catal Huyuk had guessed at what would happen next, and he knew that if the beasts were successful the odds of survival would be stacked against them. “Thomas, the Shadow Lord knows exactly where we are. There’s no need for you to restrain your use of the Talent.”
Thomas nodded, glancing at Kaylie to make sure that she understood. In response, she sheathed her sword, just as Thomas did. With a great deal of concern they realized now the expected severity of the coming skirmish.
Apparently satisfied with the circumstances of the current situation, the Shade issued a silent command. The first rank of Ogren, only ten in all because the rocks and trees lining the glade constrained the small space where the monstrous dark creatures now stood, ran toward the crevice, attempting to bridge the gap. Screaming their war cries, some slavering in anticipation of the meal that stood right in front of them, the Ogren leapt through the air.
Massively strong across the shoulders because of their tremendous size, this now proved to be a disadvantage for the beasts. The Ogrens’ great weight made jumping long distances a challenge, and this proved to be the case now. A few Ogren failed to make it to the other side, just missing the edge and slamming into the cliff face, their clawlike hands hopelessly scratching against the sheer stone before the beasts plummeted to their deaths in the river hundreds of feet below. Several of the other Ogren that failed to reach the other side likely would have made it if not for the Marchers showering them with arrows as soon as their feet left the ground.
Those that did make it across did so just barely, and in spite of the arrows jutting from their immense frames. These beasts met their demise at the hands of Thomas and Kaylie. Both having drawn on the Talent, Thomas crafted shafts of blazing white light that he shot at the Ogren lucky enough to span the gap but unlucky to have to face him. Following his example, Kaylie did the same with the Talent, sweeping the crest of the gorge clean of dark creatures.
It proved to be an effective and necessary defense, for the Shade had Ogren to waste and the dark creature didn’t hesitate to use them. Intent on its goal, the Shade sent one wave of Ogren after another leaping across the crevice. With the sun
just about to hit the western horizon and darkness quickly descending, the Marchers stood their ground resolutely as the dark creature attack continued unabated. When the arrows ran out, the Marchers relied on Thomas and Kaylie, stepping in with Catal Huyuk to help dispatch the larger number of Ogren that were making their way successfully across the crevice. The Marchers silently thanked Catal Huyuk for selecting this battleground. They knew that without the rocks on the other side that hemmed in the dark creatures, and thereby restricted how many Ogren the Shade could launch at them at one time, they faced certain death.
Nevertheless, though the Marchers put up an effective defense, Catal Huyuk reluctantly admitted to himself that with the Marcher arrows gone, it was just a matter of time before there was a breakthrough. The Shade seemed to have reached the same conclusion, halting the attack as darkness descended over the mountains.
The Shade recognized that the Marchers had nowhere to go, and that if its quarry attempted to escape during the night, it would simply mean that its Ogren could cross the crevice with impunity and catch up to the Marchers the next day in a less defensible position. The Ogren, having watched the Marchers destroy half their number in less than an hour, appeared to welcome the chance to step away from the crevice and wait for the following day to continue their attack. Staring at the Marchers for a few moments more, finally, with the settling darkness almost complete, the Shade left several Ogren to stand guard at the edge of the crevice during the night, then pulled his remaining dark creatures closer to the trees at their backs, satisfied that regardless of whether its enemies remained where they were or fled, the Shadow Lord’s servant could destroy them whenever it so desired.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Different Path
Aric and Oso stood guard by the crevice, ready to shout a warning if the Ogren attempted to cross at night, though that possibility appeared to be unlikely. The Shade didn’t seem to feel the need to rush, and Thomas soon understood why as he made use of the Talent to search the mountains around them. The Ogren on the other side of the fissure were no longer their only concern.
Catal Huyuk and Thomas had reached the same conclusion as the Shade, and they soon fully understood the dire nature of the threat they actually faced. With their arrows gone, tomorrow would prove more difficult. Even with Thomas and Kaylie’s use of the Talent, each attack across the gap during the morning likely would wear down the Marchers until their numbers dwindled to the point where resistance would prove untenable. But that was no longer the only worry as a new danger approached.
“I can sense several more bands of Ogren making their way toward us,” said Thomas, munching on the bread and watery stew that they had prepared for the night. The fire gave away their position to the Ogren across the crevice, but at this point it didn’t matter. “One on the other side of the crevice, two on this side and coming up behind us. They’ll be here by morning.”
“Any more bad news?” asked Kaylie, who sat next to Thomas, their legs touching. Kaylie told herself that it was because the rock they were sharing required it. But she admitted to herself, however reluctantly, that she hoped that there was more to it than that.
“Indeed I do,” he sighed. “A pack of Fearhounds are following behind the Ogren. They’re farther away, but they’re making up the ground quickly. I expect that they’ll be here in time to join in the morning fun if not before based on their current pace. And those dark creatures will have no problem at all leaping the gap, especially with our lack of arrows. The Shadow Lord seems quite intent on making sure that we don’t reach our destination.”
“Though this has the makings of the ending of a great tale, a last-gasp fight to the death, we cannot stay here,” grumbled Catal Huyuk. The mountain of a man sounded almost disappointed.
“Can we make it down the cliff face?” asked Kaylie. “If we can find some handholds and footholds …”
“It’s a good thought, Princess, but the cliffs are sheer. Even with the rope you carry, you would never reach the bottom safely.”
“You know these heights better than anyone,” said Thomas, fairly confident that his friend had another option in mind. “Any ideas other than a defense that would be remembered by the bards?”
Catal Huyuk grinned. “I do. Gather your Marchers and horses quietly, but leave the fires burning. Let the dark creatures on the other side think that you remain here. Then follow me.”
Thomas immediately set off to obey. In a matter of minutes he had the Marchers ready and moving silently behind Catal Huyuk as the Sylvan Warrior led them deeper among the large rocks on the northern side of the crevice. For several minutes the Marchers followed in almost complete darkness, only the moon, often shrouded by clouds, offering some illumination.
As they moved farther away from the Ogren, Catal Huyuk explained. “Just a bit farther down this trail is a path barely wide enough for a man on horseback, though in some places it might be a very tight fit and you’ll want to walk your mount. The path switches back dozens of times and will be treacherous because of fallen stones, but it will take you down to the river. You can follow it west to Great Falls in Kenmare.”
“The Ogren can’t follow?” asked Oso.
“No, they are too big. It will force the Shade to take his beasts back down the mountains to try to catch you. By the time the Shade makes it to the river, you should have a day’s head start. If you keep a fast pace, you should gain the city walls before they catch you.”
“You said the Ogren can’t follow,” confirmed Kaylie. “But what of the Fearhounds?”
“Alas, Fearhounds will have little difficulty on this path,” said Catal Huyuk, who stopped then stepped out of the way.
He had reached the hidden track, a small sliver of space that rose up between the cliffs just wide enough for a man on horseback as Catal Huyuk had promised. Thomas’ gaze followed it up the cliff face, noting that the higher up he looked, the tighter the space, as if the cliffs were trying to once again join together.
“You won’t be coming,” said Thomas matter of factly.
“No. I will wait until morning and then make sure that the Fearhounds don’t follow. There is a good spot a little farther down the trail where I can hold any pursuers as long as necessary. It’s a natural bottleneck.”
Thomas didn’t like the idea of putting his friend in danger. “Come with us. We can get down the path before the Fearhounds pursue us.”
“It is not a risk worth taking,” said Catal Huyuk. “Remember, Thomas, the primary objective is finding the Key. That is what truly matters.”
Thomas growled in resignation, knowing that he wasn’t the only one who had to make sacrifices if they were to be successful and hating the burdens of his responsibility all the more.
“Don’t stay too long. I expect to see you in the Charnel Mountains.”
“You can count on it, Thomas.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE
Taking a Risk
Making their way down the hidden path as quickly and safely as possible, the twists and turns and loose rock forcing them to an agonizingly slow pace at times, Thomas and the Marchers still reached the branch of the Crescent River with the sun just rising in the east. Nevertheless, the dim light stayed with them for several hours as the mountains blocked the sunlight from reaching them and kept them in a hazy gloom, caught between morning and night until they had ridden several leagues to the west.
Their stops were brief over the next few days as they tracked the river. Thomas and Kaylie regularly used the Talent, extending their senses in search of any danger as they feared that the Ogren and Fearhounds would make up the ground the Marchers had gained thanks to Catal Huyuk’s heroic efforts. But the dark creatures remained behind them by at least a day or more and the demanding pace they traveled was designed to keep it that way. A pace that wore on them and their mounts but proved necessary. Difficult travel and little sleep were less of a concern than having to stand and fight against what chased after them. Finally, after three days
of hard riding, their horses spent, the walls of Great Falls rose above them.
Capital of Kenmare, the hustle and bustle of the city that spread across both sides of the Crescent River could be heard for leagues around. Any merchants traveling the Winter Sea and seeking to bring their goods to the east, or for that matter merchants from the east seeking to bring their goods to the north and west, inevitably stopped in Great Falls on their way to or from Faralan, Kenmare’s primary port city located a dozen leagues to the north where the westernmost branch of the Crescent River emptied into the Winter Sea.
Traveling from Faralan south down the Crescent River to Great Falls was an easy journey, except for one major obstacle. Just to the north of Great Falls at the edge of the city limits, a massive waterfall, actually several connected waterfalls, broke out over the length of the mile-wide river. Every second, thousands upon thousands of tons of water fell from the rim of the falls to crash almost a mile below where the Crescent River flowed swift and strong to the coast. There was no way around, as the lip of the cliff that the Crescent River dropped from stretched out in a semicircle, its central point at Faralan, so that the land between Faralan and Great Falls appeared to be a gigantic half-crescent-moon-shaped canyon surrounded by sheer cliffs that ran for leagues until the heights met the Winter Sea in two places. Thus the importance of Great Falls.
The incessant pounding of the falls added to the noise of the busy river city, as goods were winched up and down the mile-high cliffs on cranes that dwarfed the largest merchant ships. Because of the size of the drop, the cranes were situated at several strategic points along the cliff face, so that each huge bundle of goods could be lowered or raised on their massive pallets, carefully and slowly, then transferred from one crane to the next.