by AC Cobble
She nodded and opened her mouth as if she would have a question, but he held up a hand to stop her. Rew paused then slung his pack off, setting it on the ground and flipping open the top.
“What?” asked Cinda, glancing around nervously.
“See down there by the river, where it curves around the bend? Look at the inside of the elbow, on the rocky beach.”
She frowned. “That’s a bit far away.”
“I know.” He stood, offering Cinda a small, leather-bound, brass spyglass from his pack. “Look through this.”
She took it and turned, adjusting the spyglass and trying to find the curve he’d mentioned on the river.
“Blessed Mother!” she cried, drawing the attention of the others. As they scrambled back to see what the matter was, Cinda asked, “Is that a simian?”
Rew confirmed that it was.
“It’s big,” she said.
“A full-size adult may have three, four stones of weight on your brother,” said Rew. “They’re strong, too. I guess swinging from tree to tree and holding on with those long arms of theirs builds muscle. You can’t let one of those get a hold on you, or it’s over. They have no claws, but they can tear a man’s arm off with ease. Their teeth are dangerous, too. Most are like ours, but they’ve two big fangs the size of my pointer finger. If they chomp down on you with that, well, you can imagine.”
Nodding, Cinda held out the spyglass to her brother and pointed where she’d been looking. “It has an animal its eating. A deer, maybe, but I can’t be certain.”
Rew told her, “They’ll take a deer if they can, though simians are not quick hunters. They tend to wait high in the trees and drop when something walks below them. Deer are nervous and always ready to bolt. A quick-footed one can be away before the simian is on them. Wild hogs are common prey, but those either learn to avoid the territory of the simians, or they’re gone soon enough. Hares, birds, squirrels, and other small creatures are what the simians feed on most often.”
“People?” asked Cinda.
Rew grinned. “If they have the chance. The rangers know the territories of all of the simians within a week or so of Eastwatch, and we avoid them. Every now and then, though, they wander out or we accidentally wander in. Fortunately, simians tend to keep to the deep forest, so there’s little risk in the vicinity of Eastwatch.”
“When you described it,” murmured Raif, “I thought it’d be cute like a monkey. I’ve seen those in the markets in Spinesend. They’re sold as pets, there. This is… It is not cute.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if simians and monkeys are related,” said Rew with a laugh, “but simians are ten times the size of the largest monkeys and twenty times as mean. I’d guess their branch of the family tree came from some ancient, angry, and drunk uncle.”
Raif, shaking his head, passed the spyglass to Zaine and gripped the hilt of his hand-and-a-half sword. “If one came up here and attacked us, what would we do?”
“Get behind me,” advised Rew. “That or run. Simians are solitary creatures, only coming together to breed. The young stay with the females after birth for about a year. Then, she kicks her offspring out of her territory, and they’re on their own until they’re mature enough to earn their own breeding partner. As long as it’s not mating season, you can safely assume there will only be one of them. I’ve faced them before and know what to do, so just let me handle it.”
Raif rolled his shoulders. “Hide behind you. That’s your answer to every danger we come across.”
Rew raised his hands, palms up. “That’s because it’s what you should do every time we come across something dangerous. I’ve been out here ten years, lad, and I’ve faced just about everything this wilderness has to offer. Trust in my experience, and I’ll get you to Falvar.”
“You keep calling me a lad, but I’m a full-grown man, you know,” remarked Raif gruffly. “I had my eighteenth winter this last new year. I could inherit and rule.”
“Fair enough,” said Rew.
After the younglings had spent enough time awing over the simian far below in the valley, they began to hike again, moving along the crest of the ridge, the land falling away below them on both sides. It afforded them an excellent view of the surrounding forest. In the distance they could see the gray face of the Spine rising up toward the sky. That day, its top was obscured in thick, white clouds, but Rew hoped it would blow off before they descended from the ridge so he could get a good look at the peaks. It was early autumn and still comfortable in the forest, but at height, it wouldn’t be unusual to see a bit of snow. Rew wanted to see what they would face when they ascended to the passes.
“How are we going to get across that?” asked Raif.
“There’s a way that I’d prefer to take if it’s open,” explained Rew as they walked along. “It’s narrow and is blocked easily when there is snow and ice. Another month, and I wouldn’t bother even trying for it, but if it’s open, it’s the quickest route. You know the old border forts out in the barrows? There’s one of them on the other side of the pass. I don’t know the name of it, but for as long as I’ve been in the east, it’s been a base for a mining operation. If we can get to it, the trek down will be much easier. There’s an established road between the old fort and Falvar.”
“I’m familiar with the place,” said Raif. “I visited the fort once, as a child, but I don’t recall anything about a pass through the mountains above it.”
“It’s rarely used,” said Rew. “One, because it’s rare anyone travels through the wilderness at all, and two, it’s a bit risky to brave the pass.”
“Risky?”
Rew nodded. “Not particularly more dangerous than hiking through the forest, but there are different dangers. Rock trolls instead of simians, that sort of thing.”
Raif swallowed uncomfortably.
“Outside of the boundaries of the realm, the world is ruled by beast, not by man,” added Rew.
“So it seems,” said Raif. He hurried to catch up to his sister, presumably to tell her about the rock trolls.
Jon fell in with Rew, letting the younglings take the lead as it was simple enough to follow the line of the ridge. He slowed, and Rew mimicked him until the others were out of earshot.
“I’ve been thinking. Those ayres the other day were headed north,” mentioned the younger ranger, “just like the narjags you tracked down.”
Rew nodded.
“We’re headed north.”
“The same occurred to me,” said Rew. He kicked at a pinecone, sending it tumbling down the side of the ridge. “Both parties of the Dark Kind were headed north, away from Eastwatch and the farms and homes scattered around the region. Neither party of the Dark Kind seemed to be roving about, looking for food. Instead, they were going somewhere.”
“What do we do?” wondered Jon.
“We keep moving. We keep an eye out for tracks,” said Rew. “I’ve seen what I believe are some more signs, but they’re old. If it wasn’t for the younglings, I’d be following the narjags, going north, just as we are. Is it another migration? I hope not, but what else could it be?”
Jon nodded.
“The answers to all of our questions about the Dark Kind and these younglings seem to lie in the same direction, and that worries me, Jon.”
The younger ranger cringed, and Rew offered a grim smile. Somehow, the arrival of the youths, the Investiture, and the movement of the narjags, were related.
For days, they moved through the wilderness, avoiding the haunts of known creatures, and trying to avoid the unknown ones. They had to scare off a curious bear with shouts and clapping, and Zaine had woken them all shrieking one night as a swarm of bats burst from a cave set into a hillock they’d camped beside. They’d all laughed about it until a giant marrow spider came bounding out of the cave after the bats. The spider, its legs splayed as wide as a man was tall, had flung a glob of disgusting thread from its spinneret and caught Anne’s leg. The huge arachnid had attempted to reel
the empath in, but Rew arrived in time to stab his longsword through its soft body. No one had slept the remainder of the night, and it’d been a foul-tempered party that had started hiking shortly after dawn.
The next evening, they’d spied a red-bearded primal sloth strolling across an open field in front of them. Each of its legs was taller than even Raif, and its feet were as wide as a shield. They’d crouched, holding their breath, as the giant animal passed without noticing them. They’d walked nervously until they saw the normal forest resume without the crushed trees and deep impressions the sloth left in its wake. That night as the sun was setting, the younglings had thought they’d seen a drake far in the distance, though Rew guessed it was more likely another bat and much closer. Drakes were rare, even a week’s walk from the nearest settlement. The creatures avoided people.
“If they avoid people, how do you explain the stories?” questioned Raif. “I grew up on tales of knights fighting giant drakes, and I’m told my father’s grandfather slayed one of the monsters. His enchanted greatsword hangs behind my father’s throne as a reminder of the strength of the Fedgleys.”
“Could be,” allowed Rew. “I don’t know your great grandfather’s tale, but I know that most drakes, most of the time, avoid people. When they’re disturbed or angered, they don’t. There is little in the natural world more frightening than a drake angry enough to seek out people.”
Raif grunted, peering into the night where he thought he’d seen the flying lizard.
“Have you ever seen a drake up close?” asked Cinda.
“I haven’t seen a drake in the wilderness,” said Rew, “though, in the deep forest, we have found signs. Years before I became a ranger, there was an encounter with one, and all I can say is that I’m glad I was not there. We’ve had plenty of other odd appearances. It’s part of the role of a ranger, of course, to keep those stray wanderers within the forest and away from the rest of the king’s lands. Almost ten years ago, shortly after I arrived in Eastwatch, we had one of those red-bearded sloths walk right down the street. It went from one end of the village to the other. Then, it crushed the brewer’s shop. That alone was a tragedy, but the brewer and his family attacked the sloth, and it killed three of them. The senior ranger at the time just watched and let it go when it headed back into the wilderness. Said if we confronted it, more people were going to die, so the best thing was to stay out of its way. Good advice for a lot of situations, I’ve found.”
“Oh my,” said Cinda, glancing behind them, clearly thinking of the giant animal that they’d seen. “In the village…”
“Exactly,” said Rew.
“That’s the job of the rangers, then?” asked Zaine. “You patrol these lands, making sure what’s out here stays out here? Thought you’d said some bit about hunting the Dark Kind.”
“We monitor the beasts in the wilderness,” explained Rew. “Keeping order within the territory is part of our role. Much like we enforce the king’s laws, we’ll deal with anything that threatens the safety of the villagers in Eastwatch. For the most part, though, we try to leave the natural creatures alone as long as they stay within the deep forest. The Dark Kind are different. Those, we hunt. You’re familiar with the migration that happened two years ago when the Dark Kind crossed the Spine?”
“They were fleeing the barrowlands,” said Raif. “We were driving them out. My father and his men rode against them before they made it into the crags of the Spine. Killed hundreds of them, but I suppose some got away.”
Rew nodded. “Hundreds of the Dark Kind crossed. It was our role as rangers to track them and to finish them.”
“Only you and the other rangers we met?” questioned Cinda. “You fought hundreds of narjags? You killed them all?”
Rew shrugged. “We killed all that we could, though certainly some got away. With so many, it was impossible to hunt them all once they scattered.”
“Impressive,” muttered Raif, shaking his head in disbelief.
Rew winked at him. “They began to fragment nearly the moment they made it out of the foothills of the Spine, so we didn’t fight them all at once. Narjags are disagreeable and fractious creatures, and without a valaan commanding them, they don’t stay together long. We didn’t attempt to face the entire group. We waited until they split apart and then hunted those smaller groupings.”
“Ah,” said Raif, giving a satisfied nod.
“What would the Dark Kind do in the wilderness?” wondered Cinda. “Would it be better to leave them unmolested as long as they did not try to enter the lands of men? Let the sloths and the simians deal with them…”
“The Dark Kind are anathema to the natural beasts,” said Rew. “Those creatures would avoid them, allowing the Dark Kind a chance to procreate. They’d build their ranks then have the strength to fight the natural beasts in these woods. They’d fight those creatures and us. Narjags reproduce like rabbits, and they’ll kill and eat nearly anything. It wouldn’t be long before there would be enough of them to form an army. As I mentioned, it’s not easy to organize a large group of narjags, but if a valaan or some other creature did… Your father and his men can face a few hundred Dark Kind in the field. Maybe even a thousand if the baron was warned and had time to prepare, but ten thousand? That’s enough to overrun Falvar. Fifty years back, there were hundreds of thousands of Dark Kind. It was more than any individual baron or duke could stand against. We lost that many people before the king arrived with his army and the Dark Kind were stamped out, forced to break up and flee.”
“Hundreds of thousands of them,” whispered Cinda, shaking her head.
“I understand they think of nothing other than killing us and the creatures of this world,” said Raif. “Who could control such an army of them?”
Tight-lipped, Rew raised an eyebrow.
“What?” asked Raif.
“No one knows who organized them,” explained Rew.
Raif stared back at him, startled.
“There were valaan captains,” continued the ranger. “You’re familiar with them, yes? They’re the most intelligent, or perhaps I should say cunning, of the Dark Kind. Deadly fighters as well. Tall, thin, and strong. Unlike the other Dark Kind, they are also able to coordinate and work together with those of their own species. The narjags are terribly afraid of them, and a single valaan can control a hundreds of the lesser Dark Kind. But while the valaan loathe us as much as their cousins, they are sly enough to avoid direct confrontations with men that they cannot win. They know that even hundreds of thousands of Dark Kind are not enough to unseat mankind as the rulers of this world, so why did they lead the armies? Who directed the valaan?”
The younglings stared back at him, as if waiting for an answer, but he didn’t have one.
As the days passed, and they drew closer and closer to the foothills of the Spine, Rew became more and more nervous. He and Jon were sharing looks, furtively pointing to tracks that narjags and ayres had left passing before them. The Dark Kind were traveling in small groups, but the rangers were seeing evidence that dozens, maybe hundreds, of the foul monsters were headed due north, just as they were.
There was a river that ran along the base of the Spine, and when they reached it, Rew was frightened of what they’d discover. One evening, just a day from the river, Anne cornered him and Jon while the younglings were busy preparing the camp.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes darting suspiciously between the two rangers. “The longer we’ve been out here, the more nervous you’ve gotten. What are you seeing that we do not?”
“Tracks,” Rew said, eyeing the younglings, not wanting to worry them. “Several parties of narjags headed the same direction we are.”
“A reverse of the migration?” asked Anne.
Rew shrugged. Two years prior, he and the other rangers had hunted and killed all of the Dark Kind they could find, but they hadn’t gotten them all. The creatures still lurked in the wilderness, though to no purpose anyone understood. No one knew why they’d
left the barrowlands, and no one knew if they ever intended to go back. It was certainly possible that’s what they were doing now.
But he wondered. Was two years long enough for the Dark Kind to have repopulated to the point they could face whatever they had fled from? Rew didn’t think so. Surely it took longer than that for the creatures to achieve maturity, to be able to produce their own offspring, and to do so again in large numbers. Of course, maybe he was seeing the tracks from all that was left. Maybe all of the surviving Dark Kind were headed north, instead of a small representation. Rew wasn’t sure which was worse, but neither scenario was good.
He grimaced, thinking that it was quite possible they were going to walk right into the back of a massive gathering of narjags. At that point, it wouldn’t really matter why they were there. If there were dozens, he worried he wouldn’t be able to protect the others. A hundred, and he wouldn’t be able to protect himself.
By the time they reached the river that ran along the base of the Spine, formed from the crystal clear rain water and springs that dribbled down the side of the mountain, Rew decided he could not keep the secret within the Eastwatch contingent. The signs were clear. They were traveling the same path as the narjags, and there were a lot of them. They had to decide if they should turn around or proceed. And either way, it was important the younglings were alerted that the danger of the wilderness was no longer the usual threats. He hadn’t wanted to worry them, but they had to know.
On the bank of the river, Rew squatted down and pointed at the earth. “Look here, between the stones.”
The youths clustered around, staring down at the dark soil and the pale gray rocks that were scattered thickly near the water. Tumbled down from the heights above, the stone formed the bed of the fast-moving stream, slowly dissolving under the constant flow of water or being swept ashore in rocks ranging from pebbles to giant boulders. Where the party had emerged from the forest to the clear space around the river, the rocks were small, the size of apples or grapes, and in between the stone, impressions were obvious.