by D.E. Dunlop
“Yeah, we might as well.” Ren agreed. “It would suck if it was here and we left without looking. What did you say it looked like? I mean, which invisible dragon is it?” He asked sarcastically while looking around the empty field.
“It’s not actually a dragon.” Tinne suddenly remembered Earl’s warnings about the queen’s spies and put a finger to his lips for Ren not to mention it again. He then pulled up some grass to expose the soil and drew a rough picture of what he thought it looked like.
“I’ve never actually seen it, but it’s described something like this.”
“That looks like a dragon to me.” Ren said ignoring Tinne’s urgency for him to be quiet.
Tinne explained the Union Stone and the two searched and they searched until they noticed the shadows growing long toward the east.
“We’d better pitch the tents.” Ren said.
“Yeah, I guess, eh? We could be here a while.” Tinne responded.
“Well, we can’t be more than a couple of days or we’ll run into winter. Ren said.
“No, we don’t wanna do that.” Tinne agreed. They had planned to return to Bayfield by early fall and had packed accordingly. It was already the third week of August. “If we don’t find it by tomorrow at sunset we’ll leave at dawn the following day.”
“Alright, sounds good.” Ren concurred.
They set up their tents and gathered some firewood from the neighbouring cedar forest. As soon as the sun came up the next day they systematically searched every centimetre of the main circle within the fallen dolmen. They searched painstakingly into the night and to no avail. Knowing they were out of time they prepared the camp for an early departure and retired for the night.
The sky was clear again the next morning. The wind was just picking up again and Ren was tying his pack to his horse when Tinne tapped his shoulder.
“What do you suppose they want?” Tinne asked, motioning over his shoulder with his head. Ren looked in the direction Tinne had indicated and saw, at the far east end of the field, an army of soldiers, clad in black armour. They were advancing steadily toward them.
“Sittyans. I could guess, but I don’t think I really wanna stick around to find out.” Ren answered. “We’ll run to the cedar forest.” He said, nodding slightly toward the west where they had come from two days previous.
“There’s gotta be a hundred of them.” Tinne said as he looked inconspicuously at the approaching soldiers.
“So, you wanna stand?” Ren asked sarcastically. Or, at least, Tinne hoped he was being sarcastic.
“Umm, no.” Tinne answered.
Seeing that the Sitts continued to advance, Ren and Tinne clambered onto their mounts and bolted for the trees.
Milton brought his army to a halt on the rim of the field. He looked down, with concern, at the two figures standing by their laden horses. His captain brought his horse up beside him. “What are your orders, my prince? Shall I call the archers?”
Milton turned to the man at his side though he was clearly lost in thought. He shook his head almost absently. “No. This is a rather special place, my good sir, as are those who find it. Let us be cautious in this matter.” He turned back to the source of his distraction and drew a leather cord from his armour that had a black stone fastened to it. He rubbed the stone between his thumb and index finger pensively. He did not wish to give any more information than necessary to the officer or the rest of the army.
“What do you make of it, mother?” He said to the stone as it began to glow.
There was a slight flash and Katharine’s image appeared in the stone.
“Very interesting indeed.” She said thoughtfully after a moment. “They look very familiar.”
“You know them, mother?” Milton asked.
“I do and I don’t. If you will recall you took out a man for me up there about eight years ago. The red haired one looks very much like that man’s father did when he was younger.”
“Do you think…?”
“Yes, it is quite possible. In fact it is probable. Either way they are most likely after the same treasure you seek. They must be stopped. Find out what they know.”
“And shall I dispose of them afterward?”
Katharine raised her eyebrows with an evil smile. “You make your mother so very proud, my son.”
As the stone flickered out and returned to its deep black state Milton turned to the captain again.
“You heard your queen, sir.”
“Yes my Lord.” The captain responded with a second and puzzled glance as he just learned that the queen he served was a witch.
“Is there a problem captain?” Milton queried.
“No, sir, no problem.” The man replied and his army charged into the field.
“Oh, crap!” Tinne shouted while digging in his heels. “Why’d I let you talk me into this?”
“It was your idea to find the frickin’ field!” Ren shouted back. “Go, go, go!”
They drove hard across the field with the dogs barking at their backs and crashed into the cedar grove at full gallop. The trees were so thick the horses nearly hung up in the branches and the two fugitives nearly fell more than once. They pushed and fought their way into the forest, growing more and more concerned about their decision to enter there. They looked at each other in dismay through the branches as they went. Ren laughed a slightly nervous laugh. “At least they can’t follow in full force.” He said.
The Sitts had just as much trouble as Ren and Tinne and just as Ren had said the soldiers found themselves travelling in single file through the brush. Even the dogs had problems, as the trees were so close to the ground rabbits rarely travelled there. Occasionally they would get close enough for a short introduction of steel or a kick from a horse, but density of cedar even made each of those ineffective.
Chapter 10
Narrow Escape
During the first couple of days the forest began to thin and initially Ren and Tinne managed to get some space between themselves and the Sitts. Eventually, however the forest thinned enough that the Sitts began to close in and they were required to push hard to stay ahead. There were a few skirmishes the young men fared well in but the stress was taking its toll on them.
“I don’t think I can last much longer, Ren.” Tinne huffed while they ran. The tree branches were not high enough to ride their horses so they were trying to lead them.
“Maybe if we let the horses go we can confuse them.” Ren replied brokenly. “Can you make us invisible or something while the horses take off?”
They glanced over their shoulders and confirmed the Sitts were not within sight. They could still hear the large mass moving behind, but couldn’t see them. They stopped.
“I could make us invisible, but it takes too much energy and I need to be very calm.” Tinne explained while still gasping for breath. He leaned on his knees and looked around him as though he were forming a plan.
Ren gave him a few seconds.
“Whattaya think?” He blurted, impatiently.
“Okay, I’ve got an idea.” Tinne said as he stood. “It’s risky, but it’s all I’ve got time or energy for.”
“Well, what is it?” Ren demanded. He was becoming obviously anxious.
“Chill, man! We have to wait till the very last minute. When I say so you send both horses racing that way.” Tinne explained while pointing into the forest. “And then don’t move until I say so.”
They could hear the Sitts getting closer by the minute and could tell they had fanned out to make a wider sweep. Ren flinched as Tinne jerked his hand through Ren’s hair like a rake and removed several long strands. According to Ren’s reaction, some of them were not exactly loose. Ren punched him hard in the shoulder, but Tinne was on a mission and chose not to retaliate despite the dull ache that surged through his arm. He did the same thing to the tails of the horses and his own hair.
He pu
t all the hair together and then took half in each hand. He turned his hands slowly around each other. The movements he then made were much like those of an interpretive dance mixed with tai chi.
Ren looked nervously between his friend and the direction the Sitts were coming from.
“Hurry up, man!” He urged. “They’re almost here!”
“There they are!” Someone shouted as numerous Sittyan soldiers appeared.
“Tinne!” Ren urged.
“Now!” Tinne commanded.
Ren slapped the flanks of both horses as hard as he could and they charged into the forest. The culmination of Tinne’s mystical movements met with a forceful push of his hands from his chest in the direction the horses ran. A flickering stream of light sprayed from Tinne’s hands and out between them. A clear lane opened before the horses. They flickered twice, became Ren and Tinne and faded down the lane.
“After them!” A Sittyan commander ordered and they crashed through the forest that reappeared behind the fugitive horses.
Ren turned to Tinne who was swaying slightly from exhaustion. He only put his finger to his lips to keep Ren from speaking.
“It won’t last long. We have to get out of here.”
“What about one of those circles you told me about before? The stone circle of protection?” Ren enquired.
“We could, but I haven’t seen many stones the last few days.” He answered and motioned to the rich black soil at their feet.
“What about these smaller pebbles?” Ren asked.
“They’re not big enough.” Tinne’s balance was coming back to him. “They have to be at least fist size to the wizard or they won’t hold enough energy.” Tinne explained. He looked up in the direction opposite the horses. “We’d be smart to go that way.” He said and they ran at half pace.
They didn’t get very far before Tinne was walking.
“Oh, that decoy took the wind out of me.” He complained.
“Speaking of that, do you think the horses will come back?” Ren inquired.
“Oh, yeah, for sure. The spell will wear off soon enough and the Sitts will stop chasing when they realize they’ve been duped. When the horses calm down they’ll start making their way toward home.” Tinne answered. He thought for a minute. “Maybe we should split up. We can hide better if we’re alone.” He suggested.
Ren pondered the idea a moment.
“Well, it’s not like our chances of survival are any greater if we’re actually caught.” He answered.
“Okay, let’s meet somewhere, then. How ‘bout in that field the ravens were in on the way down from Bayfield?” Tinne offered.
“Sure.” Ren nodded. “When?”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll run into Sitts again so why don’t we try for a week? Give us enough time to shake’em good.”
“Sounds good. I’m going this way.” Ren said and headed in the direction they had been running prior to Tinne’s decoy. He stopped and looked back at Tinne who was catching his breath. “You better be there, Schmuck.” He ordered.
Tinne waived him off.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” He answered, but considering how much energy he lost in the decoy he wasn’t totally confident in it.
Ren was out of sight, Tinne had barely caught his breath when that all too familiar sound came filtering through the bare trees. As the forest had thinned it also was transforming from coniferous to deciduous. Noting the thick layer of decaying leaves beneath the newer he looked into the forest away from the oncoming soldiers.
“I wonder...” He mumbled to himself as he started toward a slightly darker area.
The soldiers were definitely closing the gap as he trotted along, scanning the ground for something. He stopped suddenly. Off to his left a few metres was a circle of mushrooms growing from the ground.
“Yes!” He exclaimed with a whisper. “A fairy ring. I wonder if those toadstools are big enough.” He pondered as he darted for it.
“There!” A soldier shouted.
Chapter 11
The Fall of Bayfield
The late summer sun had not been long behind the western horizon when a lone rider broke the crest of the hill and made his way swiftly across the bridge and through the gates of Bayfield. Hunched on his horse, he charged through the guard, an arrow already in his back as he slid from his mount. Lying on his side in the dirt, the soldiers found him. In his hand he still clutched a sword, blood stained and broken just above the hilt. As the guards approached he groaned through dying breaths, “Tecumseth has fallen.” Unable to sustain any longer, he turned his face to the ground and passed on. As a third guard approached the initial two exchanged glances of grave concern while they crouched over the unidentified soldier.
“What does it mean, sir?” The one inquired of his superior. Timothy, keeping his red sash (Sergeant Major insignia) off of the body before him, looked at the guard addressing him and then toward a small group of soldiers approaching on his left.
“You men, keep these people back.” He ordered, pointing to a small group gathering at his side. “David.” The Sergeant Major called, addressing one of the soldiers in the group.
“Yes, sir.”
“Help Jonathan take this man to the infirmary.” Standing, Timothy looked around and quickly headed towards the palace. Approximately thirty yards down the road he noticed the alien horse standing wearily at the side of a small shop, panting heavily. He turned and hastily ordered one of the soldiers to take care of the horse.
**********
“No offence sir, but are you certain?” The young soldier asked while standing at attention.
“Yes, Platoon Sergeant Janice. I spoke with him myself. Now hurry. We don’t have time to waste.” The captain of the Guard ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
An hour later three Platoon Leaders on horseback charged out of the fort and into the blackness. One went by the north road and the other two by the south.
Janice’s heart and mind both raced as she left the city through the north gate. The night was dark and humid and filled with the sounds of frogs and crickets. “I thought he was just a myth.” She said to herself as she made her way down Patty Dunn’s Hill. A lone young woman travelling a quiet road by night would appear an easy target, but woe to any who would interrupt this young lady’s traverse. Janice has the appearance of a tenderhearted princess with her round blue eyes and dark, curled lashes. She is, however, a skilled warrior, just as good as any in the army of Bayfield. Her father, King Gerald, did not wish for his children to be given high military status without proper training, so he insisted they work their way up the ranks.
**********
The magnitude of their foot falls thundered down the corridor, red lights, sporadic and rhythmically interrupting the dull hues cast by the overhead lights. To the soldiers responding to the alert, the sound of their own hearts beating within their breasts were louder than their hundreds of pounding feet and even the sirens as they screamed through the concrete halls. The scents of fear and doubt swelled within the passageways as men realized the fort had not seen war in five centuries. On the evening streets above children were being taken, rather disorderly and panic stricken, into shelter. Dust from the trampled streets filled the moonlit air. Cries from children and the shouts from guardians and military alike echoed and re-echoed from wall to wall.
In counsel with the Captain of the Guard, King Gerald looked out from the tower window over the chaos in the streets below and into the lands beyond his palisade walls. Only two oil lamps lighted the council chamber as the situation called for a preservation of power.
“How does it look, Jessie? Our plight, I mean.” The king was a large strong willed man with, some would say, a good head on his shoulders. But, in this unexpected event there was doubt in his voice.
“Not good, my liege.” The Captain answered. “Our troops are uneasy and scared; what with t
he theft of the Kozlov and all.” Jessie shared Gerald’s doubt; never the less he attempted, unconvincingly, to mask it. At six feet he was still four inches shorter than his king. This did not make him any less of might. He had a good physique for battle, not too bulky and not too slim.
“Don’t be so superstitious, Jessie. You know as well as I do it’s just a myth. Our ability to defend ourselves has nothing to do with old heirlooms.”
“Well, maybe so, my lord, but you have to admit the timing of it all is rather uncanny.” Jessie defended.
“I don’t want to hear anymore about urban legends. Tell me what we’ve learned of our enemy.” The King ordered.
“Platoon Captain Angela returned with news of a battalion just south of the old brewery and Platoon Captain Lester gave news of a point platoon just slightly north-west of that. I put four platoons on patrol just short of that area and last report our number two platoon was engaged with theirs among the south west ruins of Allandale Heights.” Jessie reported.
“I don’t like that the troops are caught up in their superstitions. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time, Jessie.” Gerald confided.
“Even still, sir, we may be able to keep them at bay. We have three hundred soldiers out there now and nearly four thousand on alert in the barracks. The only way they can position themselves for an attack is to come by way of the waterfront or the Angis road. Either way they have to come through the Five Points.”
“So we’ll meet them at the Five Points.” The King interrupted, staring at nothing, somewhere between the windowpane and the land beyond. “When will they be ready?” He asked.
“Yes, sir. Half an hour at the most, sir.” Jessie responded.
“Then have someone ready my horse and armour.” He instructed. “I can’t sit idle behind stone walls while my troops defend me.”
Jessie, with this new command, was suddenly stricken with fear and concern for the well being of his friend and King. Jessie was several years the younger, but he had served under Gerald as Captain of the Royal guard since he graduated, with honours from the Academy of Swords.