Crispin’s eyes grew wide. Cave cats were trouble, but cave cats also never came out of the mountains. Their eyes would never adjust to the light out here. Why this one was this far down out of the mountain caves was a great mystery and boded ill.
The cat leapt to another boulder and Blacky immediately squeezed back into the darkness. However, they now had a good view of the animal.
It was an ugly thing. Mottled grey-brown skin, hairless and skinny, with long yellow fangs. Its head was too big for its body and its eyes were too big for its head. It was large, larger than most wild cats, but lacking in any grace or majesty. Its ears were small and shriveled, making it look old and sickly. Its legs were swollen, indication the creature could be sick, and one leg had been severed at the shoulder. Its claws were long and curled, indicating the animal hadn’t been living in its cave for many months. What was left of its tail was just a nerveless stub. Blacky and Crispin might have spared a moment to pity the creature but that there was something far more unexpected and alarming to notice.
Someone was riding on top of the beast.
He was a man, maybe a hunter. He had a dark face and his keen eyes glowed with an evil light as he slowly swept the landscape. He was not remarkably tall, but he did seem, in the fairies sight, to be remarkably strong. A bow was strapped to his back and a short sword hung from his belt. With his left hand he had a hold of the cat’s nape, and with his right, he held down some sack or bundle he had slung in front of him.
The cat held its head poised high, as if sniffing the air. The fairies feared it might sense them. But even worse, that the man would see them as he slowly scrutinized his surroundings suspiciously.
Suddenly the bundle in front of him moved and his attention was averted. In one swift movement the man brought down his left fist and thunked the sack. It didn't move again after that. The dark man took one more fleeting glance about him before pulling at the cat’s nape. The cat immediately leaped to the next rock, its overgrown claws clashing as he landed. Again the man pulled at the cat and again the cat jumped. Before long both were out of sight, thankfully in a different direction than the horses.
As soon as they were gone, the fairies crept out and ever so silently stretched their cramped limbs and smoothed their crushed wings, quietly conversing all the while.
“What in all Gailli was that about?” Crispin exclaimed and I think he would've done well to sound a tad more serious.
Blacky was serious however, and his furrowed brow and troubled eyes said as much, “That was trouble, and I think it would be expedient to quickly form a course of action.”
“I'll say. What is a cave cat doing out here? And how ugly. And that man looked up to no good. Animal cruelty at least.”
“Crispin. Get serious for a moment.” Blacky reprimanded, “That was another kidnapped fairy in that sack.”
This almost sobered Crispin up instantly, “How do you know?”
“I recognized the shape. We need to make some quick decisions.”
“Pursuit, capture, rescue—”
“Death.” Blacky cut in, “He's got a huge advantage and it would be suicide to attempt an attack.”
“Then just careful pursuit. Let's see where he's taking his plunder.”
“Not both of us. I'll go, you need to go back and tell the captain everything, and then see what he wants us to do.”
This did not sit well with Crispin, for he dearly wished he could pursue the dark man himself. But Blacky had that look in his eye which effectively communicated that arguing would be useless and indeed harmful, for time was of the essence. So, Crispin-like, he silently nodded his head and accepted his orders.
“Alright, I'll follow as close as I can, though that will get difficult once he’s out on the plains. He seems to be heading south. I would say possibly the gorge, so if there are reinforcements or you need to find me, I'll probably be around about there. I don't intend on any action further than mere observation at the time.”
“Good, you’d best be off then. It wouldn't do for you to lose him.” and Crispin led the way to where the horses had waited quietly and motionlessly for their masters to return.
Both men mounted quickly and quietly, and with not so much as a farewell, they parted ways, one as fast as he could due north, the other cautiously following a kidnapper amidst the mists and boulders.
—————
Crispin pushed his horse relentlessly once they were out of the boulder swampland. The golden grass soon gave way to packed dirt as Cliantripeas galloped towards headquarters. Crispin reached the small village in record time. They must have seen his rapid approach from far off, because when he came to the village square, a young fairy guard was already there to take his horse, while another man was there to take him to their leader. Crispin didn't say anything to the men, but neither did they expect him to. He was escorted to a large stone building surrounded by a high wall. Once inside the wall, they walked over a green lush courtyard and into the central building. It was cool and dark in the hall, the domed room lit only by a few torches set in the columns that ran the length of the building. Out from behind one of these columns, a most prepossessing figure stepped with as much noise as a ghost.
If you ever had doubts that a fairy could look powerful and warlike, you would find yourself amply satisfied in the person of the Red Reaper, Scourge of the West, the man fairy. His father had been a human man, a fighter from the northern mountains. His mother had been a fairy from these parts, built strong and hearty, but a fairy nonetheless. So it was that their child, now a man in his middle years, was human in height and build, but a fairy in feature and face. He was quite tall and with a broad build and a sturdiness that few in this region could match. This he owed to his father, that and his shock of red hair which had won him his famed name. His mother's legacy to him were his wings, which he had trained when he was young to be able to use despite his great weight. But these wings were not ordinary fairy wings. It was one of the many curiosities about him. These wings were like dragon wings, very unlike the typical fairy butterfly-like wings. They were big and leathery and folded up against his back. However, that was not his mother’s only legacy. He had his mother’s eyes, ice blue and expressive, able to speak without the slightest sound. He was a commanding sort of presence and all who knew him had great respect for him.
Crispin walked directly towards his captain, and with a quick bow, began right away.
“There's trouble out in the marshlands. A strange man riding a cave cat, sir, and they had a fairy. Blacky is following them now to keep track of them and to see where they might be going. They were heading south, and he suspected the hideout might be in the gorge.”
“And what did you notice about this man, Crispin?” the voice was soft, but very deep.
“He looked like trouble. Dark and sinister. He was cautious, but he seemed a bit rushed too. Short, but strong-looking. And he was jumping the boulders, obviously not wanting to leave footprints.”
The Reaper nodded slowly, “Sounds like our kidnapper. I will send a few of my most able men to follow Blacky and get to the bottom of this strange business.”
Crispin bit the inside of his cheek and I think we know why. But so did the Reaper and his pale eyes sparkled.
“You, Crispin, of course must lead the group. You will take Iron Wing with two or three other men and go rescue the prisoner and see what you can make of the kidnapper. If it turns out to be very serious, send someone back here. If he is not at the gorge, or has moved on, follow him until you can overtake him. If you can overtake him, bring him back here.”
“Could Endarc be one of the recruits?” Crispin suggested as he watched the Red Reaper make plans.
“I have sent Endarc on other business. I have however, hired a few new men for your district, and one of them will go with you. I’m sending Bovess too, since he also has a dragon. Other than that I have not decided yet. But come back here once you have prepared your things and I will have them all ready
.”
12
Trouble with a View
But where did these trying times find our friend James? They found him exactly where we left him. Well, not exactly, for it had been a few weeks and he had traveled many a long and weary mile, but he was still in the prince’s company and he was still riding upon faithful Frederick. Very little of interest had occurred since his acceptance into the party, other than that which his own presence afforded. He firmly believed, and attempted to convince the others, that it was this presence that had got them through the tedious days and oppressive nights of the past couple weeks, and that if they ever did make it to the mountains and the adventure and glory beyond, they owed it to his own cheery disposition and ingenious mind.
In truth though, James really was a great favorite with most of the knights and servants, and they could readily admit that he had greatly enlivened the journey since joining them. He talked of the most exotic and curious things, things from his world, which fascinated all but a few. He kept them on their toes too, with the playful claim that there was most definitely something following them. His pert remarks and dry humor were contagious; his vocabulary was extensive and scattered with a number of words that had never made it into the Gaillian dictionary, and in fact, probably hadn't made it into an English dictionary either. Yes, most everyone found James to be quite as quaint and ridiculous as I suspect you do.
So who were the few unimpressed? There were a couple of older knights who found him to be a bit irritating, and Terragone, though he was not irritated by the old man's eccentric personality, was still not entirely at his ease with him either. Not so with Sir Lavison, however. The knight found James to be incredibly amusing and a great asset to the whole experience. The two had quickly become nearly inseparable, playing pranks on the others and on each other and on other innocent passersby. James rarely had a lonely moment anymore, and was nearly always the center of attention. And he loved it—the attention, the fun and laughter, the new friends, and the nameless adventure that loomed ahead of them as every day brought them nearer to the Jagged Mountains.
But it wasn’t just the Jagged Mountains that had James psyched up anymore. Since joining the group, he’d learned of a dark mysterious forest called Tanlyiere, one of the largest forests in the world, so large it had yet to be fully charted. The prince's company would pass right alongside this enormous forest, a forest with many dark secrets and mysterious wilds. It was quite thrilling to James. He was told that their journey would actually become dangerous once they were in sight of the forest. The Tanlyiere crawled with some of nature's strangest creatures, though these creatures only rarely left the dark shadows of their mysterious home.
The company had had their first sighting of the Tanlyiere a few days ago, as they had crested a small green mountain. From that distance, the renown forest had resembled a vast grey-green carpet stretched over the entirety of the southwest, a shining ribbon of a river strung out alongside it. That was the great river Ruid which ran down from the northern mountains, past the grassy plains of the Western Guard, and bent east to run alongside the great Tanlyiere.
As they approached the mountains, the landscape turned lush and green. Low hills with fertile soils produced a variety of vegetation. Wild game could be found everywhere. It was a paradise of life basking in early summer’s graces.
Several days journey from the mountains, the company stopped for a rest by the edge of a flawless lake. Its surface was so still that it seemed almost as if it was not water, but rather a great mirror, reflecting back the looming mountains ahead. Not a single ripple wrinkled its smooth surface. As they dismounted and let their tired steeds rip up thick grass, a small group of them, James included, went over to the edge of the inanimate lake.
“Golly, you can see clear to the bottom!” James exclaimed as he gazed out over the water, “Do any of you guys see a smooth, roundish stone that I could skip across this lake?”
“What is that, James?” Sir Lavison asked as he searched the ground for any such rock.
“I intend to skip a stone over this lake with at least twenty jumps, but I'll need a very good stone. But oh wait!” and he remembered that little cove he'd found shelter in during the deluge, and reached his hand deep into his pocket.
“Ah, never mind, guys. I've got the boss stone here. Alright, is everyone ready and waiting? I'll need you all to help me count the number of skips it makes. I get so messed up sometimes.”
He rubbed the incredibly smooth stone, probably made so by frequent deluge washouts like the one he had got caught in. He took a steadying breath, carefully swung back his arm, and let it fly. One, two, three, four, and it was still going steady. Its strides were long though, and it would soon gain the other side of the lake. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, and it sank into the mud on the opposite bank. The audience around him was silent in admiring awe.
“Shall I take another toss and see if I can get more skips for the same distance?” and James pulled out another stone and fingered it in his palm.
The knights watched far more carefully this time as he bent his wrist, arm low to the ground, and then slung the stone across the lake. One, two, three, and each time it came back up off the water, it skipped forward, leaving a growing ripple behind. This time it reached nineteen before it sunk but a foot from the other bank. The men cheered.
“Tell me how it works, Master Redmond?” a knight stepped forward, a small stone of his own gripped in his hand.
“It really isn't all that difficult. Toss it flat and fast.”
James watched in glee as the knight slung his rock into the water with incredible force. It didn't come bouncing off the surface even once.
“That's alright, it takes practice. Throw it fast but with a twist so that it's spinning.” and he demonstrated again with lovely results.
All the knights were collecting rocks now and trying their hardest to get them to skip, even if only once or twice. James stood back after a while and just watched as they threw stones of all shapes and sizes into the lake. One or two of his more dedicated trainees would get a skip or two and this kept the others at it. James smiled as he watched Sir Vestrian and Sir Lavison give up and start throwing rocks at the others’ rocks instead. The others caught on pretty quick and they started a sort of game where they attempted to get rocks to clash in mid-air. James was just about to go join in, when he felt a weight settle on his shoulder. He turned and Terragone smiled at him.
“Do you have a moment?” and the prince beckoned him to follow.
James nodded and followed him past where the rest of the group was resting and tending to the horses. Terragone led him back to the empty road, but he didn’t stopped there, instead he continued to walk down the road.
“Where are we going?” James asked, just a little wary of it all.
“We’re almost there. and he pointed to a path that led off the road and up a ridge that ran along the road.
Terragone carefully climbed up the steep incline and James followed, though much less gracefully. They were now on top of it and in a stand of thick underbrush and trees. A path wound through the tangled mess and without a word, Terragone strode down it. They were now quite a distance from the others and James was getting a wee bit nervous.
He was just about to say something about the safety of traveling in numbers and the benefits of staying together, when they finally broke out of the brush.
Before them was a breathtaking panorama, one you would never see from down on the road. To the south, the land rolled and swept gracefully for some few miles before reaching the Tanlyiere. James let his gaze rest on the curious beauty of the scene before him. The gorgeous green of the land and sparkling streak of a great river flowed between him and the forest. And the forest itself! The Tanlyiere. It was much closer now than it had been on the small green mountain. But even closer up, it still looked vast and wild and mysterious. James wondered what made it seem so different from any other forest he’d ever seen. Maybe it was the
novelty.
To his right, towards the western horizon were the Jagged Mountains. They were still quite far off, but even from here James could see that they were some of the biggest mountains he would probably ever see. It was truly stunning. The deep dark of the Tanlyiere and the fair fields and valleys between it and James. The band of the Ruid, which they would soon have to cross, flowing like a river of diamonds. And beyond it all, the mighty, formidable, fog-bound Jagged Mountains.
James wondered if he would ever make it to those mountains or unearth the secrets they held for him. He wondered if he would ever know why he was here. Not that he was complaining. So far he’d rather enjoyed his time here. He had friends now and he’d not had any real friends in a long time.
He sighed and turned to Terragone, “It's very scenic. Thank you for showing me.”
Terragone nodded mutely and continued to gaze silently at the wild lands before him. It was odd, but it almost seemed to James that whatever the prince was thinking about was slowly causing his eyes to smolder. James knew that Terragone was reverie-prone and that he had some personal troubles he didn’t talk about. James didn’t want to make anything worse so he determined not to pester him, choosing instead to sit down on a fallen log and look around some more.
It was at such times as this, when all else was very quiet and he was ever so slightly bored, that he would hear those sounds which everyone made fun of him for. For example, he sometimes thought he heard horses hooves when he would take the rear of the procession with one of the other knights, and when they stopped for meals or rests, he swore he could hear small movements not far off. While at night, lying on the hard ground trying to sleep, he saw shadows that seemed darker than the rest and heard sounds that seemed unnatural and furtive. Still, he knew he was overly attentive sometimes and often on edge, making up sounds and sights that weren’t there.
But now again, while waiting for Terragone to get his fill of the view, his ears turned hyper-sensitive and he began hearing suspicious little noises around him. There was a soft crunching noise somewhere in the woods behind them. But it could've been anything, a squirrel or a bird, or just his overactive imagination. He also thought he heard the clink of metal, barely audible, so he supposed it could just be their horses tearing up grass not very far from here.
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