Rolling Thunder

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Rolling Thunder Page 17

by A. R. LEOPARD


  During this escapade, Shifty had made good use of his dagger and had injured his opponent enough to make him of no immediate danger.

  Crispin walked over to him jauntily and nodded in approval, “Good work.” then he turned and addressed the evil man lying on the ground, “Are you surprised? It's us, the Western Guard. And I really do hope you are surprised. It’s only fair that way. Surprises all around.” and he laughed merrily, “Now we'll take the fairy you stole, tie you up and be on our way.”

  The man laughed, though it didn't sound half so nice as Crispin’s, and hissed, “Gone.”

  “It's true, Crispin.” Shifty said as he pulled out a cord to tie up their enemy, “The other one grabbed the fairy and ran as soon as he saw we were here. That's where Blacky went.”

  Crispin pouted and glared down at the injured man on the ground, “We’ll have to leave him here for a bit then. If he lives to see our return, we’ll want him as prisoner.”

  Shifty made quick work of securing the man and then they both strode back through the columns towards the exit.

  “Nice shot.” Crispin commented when they passed the first cave cat, the one with three legs. The arrow had gone straight between the eyes through to the other side.

  “Why, thank you. You didn't do so badly yourself.” and Shifty pulled out the arrow, wiped it clean, and stuck it back into his quiver.

  Soon they found the tunnel they marked and were back in the darkness following a trail of blood, though whose, they could not tell. The tunnel became steadily cooler as they neared the entrance as drafts of after-rain air came wafting down. When they finally came out of the cave and into the dark night it took a moment before they could really see anything, and what they did see was not what they'd hoped to see. Blacky was leaning against a rock clenching his side, which was oozing blood. Hollo was kneeling next to him trying to wrap the wound with a piece of cloth he'd ripped off his own shirt. The other man and his prisoner were nowhere in sight. Shifty and Crispin strode quickly over to Blacky to hear what had happened.

  “I followed him out but he got a stab at me first. When he got out here he yelled to his guard for help. I was a bit behind and didn't see it all, but he threw the fairy to the sentry who was on one of our horses and then he jumped up onto one of theirs. They went that way,” Blacky nodded to the side of the gorge that led to the river, “I was going to follow, but Hollo thought it better I not.”

  “The cheek!" Crispin fumed, “And how’d they get to one of our horses?”

  Hollo looked up from binding Blacky’s waist, “The guard ran across them just as you were coming out. I wasn’t sure what to do so I told Sea Grape to take off, and made sure Iron Wing was out of sight too. I might’ve rushed out then but that you all came out and it was too late.”

  “Well I'm not letting them get away. They have some sort of evil purpose for the fairies they kidnap and I have no intention of letting them continue to carry it out. Iron Wing!” Crispin called out loud into the gorge.

  It was not raining anymore and as the clouds tore apart above them, the moonlight fell down in jagged patches. This light was shadowed as the dragon floated down from wherever she had been hiding and landed next to Crispin.

  “I'm off then. I'll tell Bovess to go and get recruits, should our enemies have more backup along the way. I want them to know I'm following too. If I stay on Iron Wing I won’t come to any harm and I’ll easily be able to keep up with them. Bovess can find me when he has the recruits. Hollo, you take Blacky back on Sea Grape so that he can receive medical attention.”

  Crispin nodded in satisfaction as Hollo called to his horse and Sea Grape, both materializing instantly in the dark, “Good. Shifty, since you lost your horse, you’ll come with me.” Crispin with his mind made up was uncrossable, so no one bothered protesting. Crispin stayed long enough to see Blacky safely up on Sea Grape and then he lit upon Iron Wing and helped young Shifty up behind him.

  “Alright Iron Wing,” Crispin said softly, “time to find those evil men and rescue an innocent.”

  With that, Iron Wing was up and gliding silently down the gorge, much like one of Shifty's arrows, swift, sure, and deadly.

  15

  James has a Rough Time of It

  James stood (and he thought he did so with a great deal of destiny shining in his eyes) at the edge of the wide and sure running river Ruid. Beyond it, several miles into the distance, rose the dark, mysterious Tanlyiere, its majestic gloom, if such a thing is possible, casting an eerie shadow across the rolling plains near it. It certainly had a most ill-fated appearance and one could imagine it was straight-up cursed. James felt a chill of excitement creep up the back of his neck. It was all so promising.

  “Once we cross this river, I will be closer than I ever dreamed to the people and places from my books. People and places I know better than my own world.” James breathed as he swallowed and readjusted his glasses very seriously. Then, with a loud whoop which made all those who had already descended down towards the riverbank look back in wonder, James kicked Frederick into a healthy gallop and they descended victoriously down the stoney slope.

  Ever since his little ‘incident’ a couple days ago, James had felt caged and uncomfortable. He knew Terragone was more suspicious of him, with fair reason he supposed, but James didn’t like the way it made him feel. He was less cheery now and preferred to spend more time by himself. He knew this only made him more of a target for gossip, but what could he do? He could not tell them what had really happened up on the ridge, and yet they were all beginning to take sides and it was splitting the group apart—those who believed him and those who didn’t— James against Terragone. And James hated it. He wasn’t against Terragone and he wished there was a way he could assure him somehow. He could not assure him of his honesty, for much to his regret, he had not been honest. He wondered if there were any way he could assure the prince of his good will. He had tried to act as if nothing were wrong; had tried to face it head on and talk it out with Terragone; he had even tried to hint at his real situation. But all these efforts had really only made matters worse since James couldn’t give satisfactory answers to every question due to the fact that he genuinely was keeping a secret.

  It was at this point it dawned on James that he couldn't stay with the company much longer. It would be best for them all if he left and took his bit of trouble with him. Some of the men would miss him of course, but it was better that they not be divided, especially if they should run into their own strain of danger.

  So he yelled and galloped and smiled and laughed and let them see that age has a way of making you more like a child then when you were one, and that life is too short to bear grudges. He had finally felt free after he had reached his decision to leave. He would slip away once they had reached the mountains. They could assume whatever they liked but he would not be retraceable. He would disappear into the mist and shadow and make his way to the high elves just like he had originally planned. All this was assuming the trouble tracking him didn’t have different plans. The mystery of Cliff's disappearance and what weight it carried for his own situation had yet to be uncovered, but there could be complications.

  James and the company assembled at the water’s edge before attempting to cross the river. Everyone dismounted and proceeded to strap their supplies and belongings firmly to the backs of their steeds. James bantered lightly with the servants and knights around him, and I think they all noticed he seemed more or less himself again.

  “James.”

  James turned to see Sir Lavison standing behind him, “Yes, sir?” he answered, both arms glued to his sides, his back straight as a mast.

  Sir Lavison smiled, “At ease, warrior.” and he cuffed the old man in such a way that would've toppled James a few weeks ago, “I have come to reassure myself that you can swim and do not fear our crossing.”

  James snorted, “No fears for me, my lad. I can't swim well and I'm not sure if Frederick can swim at all, but even if we are both lo
st forever, what are we to you? You have glorious adventures ahead of you. You are young and strong and clever and have many full and happy years yet to live. Me? Well, what of me?”

  This was all said carelessly enough and with the typical James-drawl, but what James was actually doing was testing the waters. However, if he had been expecting some sort of noble response to his declaration, he was to be disappointed.

  Sir Lavison merely laughed good-naturedly and cuffed James again, “I know your type. It’s likely you’ll outlive us all.” and he walked away.

  James wasn't sure if this was a compliment or something less savory, but it mattered not. They obviously were oblivious to his plans and would little expect it from him. This was all good considering his position.

  By this time, the others were beginning to advance into the frigid waters, their sturdy horses plunging in with a will. Sir Lavison passed James as he too entered the river. He was astride Wildfoot again, thankfully both he and his horse having recovered well after their fall, and now the high-spirited thing was kicking up sand and dirt into James' face.

  “Be sure to stay around the others should anything happen. The current is strongest out in the middle where it’s deepest. It's there the horses will struggle the most and it will be most important you let them fight the current themselves. Don't try to help them, that only makes it worse.”

  James nodded and rubbed his sore, sand-filled eyes.

  “Alright then. See you on the other shore in an hour or so.” and Sir Lavison leapt away through the shallow water.

  James took a large breath. No turning back. He would cross this river or die in the attempt. He had not been jesting when he had said he swam very poorly. He figured it’d be even worse with a cold, strong current. He just hoped he wouldn't lose his seat.

  And maybe he wouldn't have if he'd followed Sir Lavison’s advice.

  All was going well and smoothly for at least the first half hour or so of their crossing. James was feeling confident in Frederick and his river-fording abilities. So much so that he felt brave enough to loosen up his iron hold on the reins. This was right before the strong undercurrent got to its worst.

  For reasons of his own, James turned around and searched the distancing bank. He thought he might just see the figure of a man over the crest of the slope he had galloped down, but he had become familiar with imagining he saw this figure. Whether it was real or not he never knew these days, though he suspected he was no longer imagining it all.

  Nobody was directly behind him in the water because, of course, he'd fallen behind a bit. His horse slowed as the current began to pull at his stocky little legs. James turned and noticed that all the company had got far ahead of him and were now battling the worst of the current. James then did exactly what he was not suppose to do and urged Frederick forward, pulling at the reins and kicking his sides. Frederick panicked as his head was pulled up and he started swimming crazily. The current was drawing them closer to the others, but they were still too far off for their friends to be of any help. James thought right now would be a good time to remember the advice given him and let Frederick fight this one solo, so he immediately let off pulling on the reins and loosened his entire body as the horse struggled beneath him.

  This sudden action surprised Frederick and the poor pony’s head suddenly jerked under the water. There was then a violent struggle as the horse frantically tried to get its head above the water and get its limbs under him so as to fight the current. He made so fierce a struggle that it caught the attention of Fife, who was nearest, who took his eyes off his own battle against the current to see what was amiss with James.

  There was Frederick struggling to stay upright and slowly regaining control of himself, but James was nowhere to be seen. In the frenzy he must have slid off, having loosened himself too much in order that Frederick could fight the current effectively. Fife searched the frothy water around Frederick, but saw nothing.

  “Sir Lavison!” he shouted as he immediately turned his horse and fought his way back to where Frederick was.

  Sir Lavison turned, as did many of the others, and quickly took in the dire situation. With a shout to Terragone who was ahead still further, he moved his horse around back to Frederick. He knew all too well the danger of toppling into the swift cold current, not to mention toppling in with a frenzied horse kicking and struggling nearby. But his horse was tired and backtracking was not what it wanted to do. It was slow work. Almost everyone had turned now and was fighting their way back. Some even followed the current down, in case James should have drifted downstream.

  Fife was the first to reach Frederick who was kicking through the current again with determined focus. There was still no sign of James however.

  Sir Lavison was next to reach Frederick, “Where is he?” he asked, his voice something between frustration and frenzy.

  Fife helplessly shook his head and slipped off his saddle into the frigid water, keeping a firm grasp on the horn of the saddle. Sir Lavison, with less caution and hesitation, dove into the current with an abandon which would have touched James had he seen it. His head popped up a minute later, several lengths downstream. He shook the water out of his eyes, filled his lungs, and dove again. He resurfaced and dove over and over and over again. Fife had waded over to take hold of Frederick and scanned the shoreline, hopeful James had found his way to shallow waters. The others began fanning out and calling.

  After what seemed hours of this, Sir Lavison finally had to surface and look around him. Those further downstream had also stopped, completely unsuccessful in their searching. Those weaving through the water upstream, where James had first fallen, slowed and looked to Sir Lavison expectantly. Sir Lavison turned his own gaze over to where Terragone was. He had crossed with two others over the worst part of the current to see if James had floated all the way over. The prince was now staring blankly at the rushing water between him and Sir Lavison. Slowly he raised his head and looked to every individual person in turn. His eyes came to rest on Sir Lavison and he slowly shook his head. Everyone saw it and a little something dropped in every man's chest. Sir Lavison punched the water's surface and let out an angry word. Fife pulled back up on his horse and, with Frederick in tow, slowly struggled back against the current. Everyone else did the same. They didn't call anymore, they just silently watched the current flow by as their steeds slowly made their way towards Terragone.

  Sir Lavison swam swiftly over to Wildfoot and pulled himself up wearily. He too looked back over the water that had swallowed without trace that strange man who so quickly had found a way into all their hearts.

  Suddenly Sir Lavison caught sight of something dark floating beneath the surface of the water away from the current and towards the shore they had left a few hours ago. He squinted and tried to make out if it could be…but no, it was too large, and as he examined it he realized it wasn’t floating. It was swimming. But what creature that size would be swimming down the Ruid? Sir Lavison's mind took only a moment to answered itself. His eyes widened slightly and he kicked and prodded his horse to get a move on.

  “Terragone!” he shouted once his horse got the general idea of urgency.

  Terragone turned, acknowledging his friend over the distance between them.

  “There's a blackmouth in the river!”

  Terragone face hardened and he nodded grimly before turning to shout to the rest of his company, “All right men. Double time and a sharp eye out. There's a blackmouth in these waters. Let's try and stay together.”

  The men immediately prodded their horses on and clustered together as they finished crossing the river. Soon they were beyond the worst of the current, and could take it a little more easy, though they continued to keep a watchful eye on the depths around them.

  Fife sidled up to Sir Lavison after the initial rush of danger and whispered, “I suppose that's why we couldn't find James.” and both were silent in stunned horror and grief.

  —————

  I suppo
se right now you might be wondering if this was all part of James’ plan of leaving the others. Let me assure you, it was not. James’ plan of course remained that he would not attempt an escape from the company until the mountains. And even if he had changed his mind on the spur of the moment, this was hardly the way he’d choose to improvise.

  No, the incident was as unlooked for by him as by any. He had struggled slightly when he had first been thrown off, but Frederick's hoof caught him on the shoulder and caused a pain so intense, that James ceased to thrash. He then began to sink deeper and deeper, the current carrying him wherever it willed. His last thoughts before he completely blacked out waxed poetical.

  “So this is it. The end. Not that I was ready yet, but it’s better than dying back home in some white sterile hospital bed. Here I will die a grand adventurer and perhaps they will tell stories of me someday. Ah. Goodbye world. My own and this. Goodbye.”

  And he gave himself up to the darkness approaching him, both in his mind and that which reached out for his physical body.

  —————

  The group on the shore looked out over the treacherous waters now behind them. The late afternoon sun made it sparkle in a cruel and deceptive way. One by one the men on their horses turned and rode away, a dark gloom cast over each.

  Sir Lavison was the last to leave. He stood alone on the shore for a long time, though to him, time was irrelevant. His mind turned over all that James had ever said or done, all the way up to their last conversation, there, on that opposite shore. Had James known then what his fate would be? He had spoken as if he had. How was it possible that he was gone now? Somehow, he didn't feel that it could be true, like James could just come sauntering through the underbrush and they could all have a good laugh about all this.

 

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