Chapter 8: Plans Revealed
"How far must we go?" said Theodus, as he carried Kelden through the foggy cliffs. "It might be worse for Kelden to be carried like this."
"A large Gald tribe exists about a half-day's journey from here," said Dameon. "We must head west through a narrow pass in the cliffs. A long and winding trail will take us into forested lowlands. There we shall find the Galds."
"Half a day?" growled Theodus. "Are there none closer?"
"Be thankful it is only that far," said Dameon. "Distances between civilized areas are vast out here--not that I would call a Gald village civilized. Remember, the Galds build their towns next to Halstarion ruins--not where it is convenient for others. We should arrive there by nightfall. The Galds have ways of hiding from the worms. We should be safe there."
Kelden silently disagreed. He knew plenty about the Galds--perhaps even more than Dameon did. The savages had been a constant threat to his home and family, and he'd been forced to fight for his life against them at times. They were primitive but very cunning and extraordinarily patient, waiting and scheming, knowing they eventually would claim their victims. Dameon was deluded into thinking he was using them, but in truth he was lucky to have survived his previous encounters. Now the former seer was bringing Kelden to their village, and the Galds were sure to refuse to let two humans use their services and walk away free. Dameon thought the Galds owed him favors, but Kelden believed the Galds had loyalty to no one except their gods.
As the three travelers hurried along with their wounded cargo, they glanced nervously into the mist. No one spoke of it, but they knew the assassin could still be stalking them. A Blue World sorcerer was a foe that even a former seer like Dameon would find difficult to defeat. But they could do nothing about that, and so they said nothing about it. If the assassin returned to kill them, undoubtedly some--if not all of them--would die.
After a few hours, Dameon took them onto the narrow path that led to the wooded lowlands. The path was a dry river bed that was so narrow in places they had to turn sideways to pass between the cliffs and boulders. The travelers were growing tired of seeing towering rock walls and twisted pines, and they longed for open land. The mist was so thick in spots they had to practically feel their way along.
Finally the cliffs gave way to scattered boulders here and there and soft grass. Their natural trail had ended, and they were roaming freely across the lowlands. The soil began to grow boggy, the mud making sucking noises beneath their feet. Theodus had to be especially careful because his great weight would make him sink fast. As he trudged along, he whispered encouraging words to Kelden.
They paused to rest by a rusted metal object that jutted up from the mud. They knew it had been some sort of Halstarion wagon, because it had wheels on either side. It was a massive, tube shaped thing that stuck up about thirty feet into the air. It was impossible to say how much of it lay under the mud, but the travelers suspected it was much larger than the part that was exposed. It was so badly rusted the wheels were almost welded into a solid mass. Yet after three-thousand years, like many Halstarion relics it was in surprisingly good condition.
Theodus' wrists, which were still injured from escaping Dameon's chains in the cave, were burning with pain--enough to make him wince. But he refused to set Kelden down or let Dameon carry him. Dar fiends were legendary for their stubbornness and loyalty, and Theodus was no exception. Even by Dar fiend standards he was considered unyielding in his sense of duty.
Theodus was leaning with his back against the iron wagon when he suddenly cried out, stumbling forward and nearly dropping Kelden. A clatter snake was latched onto his foot. The creature refused to let go, the bony ridges that made up its thick body making snapping sounds as the snake writhed about, trying to sink its fangs into the Dar fiend's stony flesh. Theodus was more surprised than harmed, and he quickly stomped the snake flat in the mud until its head came off its bony neck.
Moments later, another clatter snake slid silently around the metal object and into view. When it realized it had been spotted, it rose up and shook, making its strange snapping noises. It hissed at them.
Dameon knocked its head off with a mace stroke. At this point, neither snake was completely dead, since the heads continued to live--and would remain alive for several hours. The travelers gave those heads a wide berth as they departed, for the jaws could still latch onto living flesh and inject painful poison. Appallingly, the snakes' decapitated bodies were also still alive, and they continued to writhe around in the mud and make their bizarre sounds.
They started off at a quicker pace. The sun was not visible, and it was hard to tell how late in the day it was. The worms were always in their thoughts. With the cliffs well behind them, they were already growing tired of muddy lowlands when finally they found themselves walking on soft pine needles. The great, craggy trees rose up all around them now, leaving them smothered in mist and shadows beneath the furry boughs. Dameon seemed to know exactly where he was going, however, and he soon had them on another trail, this one leading almost in a straight line between the trees.
Daylight was slipping away. Soon the worms would come, floating through the pines and devouring whatever animal life got caught in the open. Centuries of adaptation had given the forest creatures clever methods of hiding from the worms. But not so with humans traveling through the wilderness. They were the most vulnerable creatures of all.
Exhausted from his struggles and his injury, Kelden slipped into a deep sleep--though he fought it every bit of the way. Even as the heavy curtain of darkness took his mind, he could only wonder what situation he would find himself in when he awoke. He almost hoped he would never wake up.
The Curse of Credesar, Part 1 Page 18