“Should I know you?”
“No, I think not. Let us say that it is enough for you to know that we are cousins of a sort. If you would hear more, I humbly ask that you accompany me.”
“Where?”
“To my companions. Come.” Handel turned and jogged off.
“We have no choice here,” Zya said as she ran after the forestman.
Handel stretched ahead with long, loping strides. He gained a lot of distance quickly this way, and when he was far enough away from the camp, circled towards the East and back to his companions. They followed as best they could. It took all the strength they could muster to keep up, and even Tarim was stretched. Eventually Handel stopped, and allowed them to catch him. “With me are two of my childhood cohorts, warriors and woodsmen both. We travelled with the portion of the tribe that had left the forest to search for the temple with the three wizards, and have remained on the plains at their bidding, to help survivors.”
“Survivors of what?” asked Ju.
“The plague of death that is sweeping the inhabitants of the plains to extinction.” After a quick half league to their place of concealment, he approached, and paused, taking time to make the call of a hedge sparrow. The ghostly hoot of an owl echoed back. “It is safe.” Handel announced, and led them into the camp. It was small, not more than a few footsteps across, but enough for them to shelter underneath the branches. He was greeted in the tribal manner by a man and a woman, who looked over the intruders warily. “Scarlet Ashenfall, my sister, and by her partner Hawknest, who has forgone his added name.”
“Does that matter so much to you all?” Ju's curiosity clearly overcame any fear of the tribesmen.
“It is one of the rare matters of dispute within my tribe.” Was all the flame-haired man would say.
When the ritual bows and phrases had been observed, Scarlet brought out some food. “Come, break bread with us in our sanctuary”.
“This is a sanctuary?” Ju asked.
Scarlet nodded. “We dwell here, and thus is it our place of sanctuary. You may call it a camp. It serves our purpose.”
Tarim took an offered piece of the flatbread. “It is a small camp, well concealed.”
“As is our wont,” Hawknest replied. “We do not need much, for as forest tribesmen, we know how to live off of the land. What we have is gathered and stored in bedrolls, which can be slung easily about our shoulders. The natural colours help us blend with the surrounding vegetation. We do not want to attract attention.”
“These are people, camped not a league from here who are free, and are searching for some taken by the riders.” Typically reserved, Handel Broadbough betrayed his excitement in the tone of his voice. “These are the sorts of people we have been asked by the wizards to aid, and keep free from the trouble posed by the mercenaries.” Hawknest peered out of their camp, his flaring mass of red hair making him seem much more violent to Zya than the reserved tribesman that he was. He turned to her. “Are they safe to approach?”
“They have had a few bad experiences, and that has put them on their guard, but the six of them are the type to listen before acting, though the guards know how to wield a sword.”
“Warriors both,” her father agreed.
“You are of them.” Hawknest stated.
“We were, but no longer. I heard that people such as yourself were in the region, and also that our friends were in trouble. We have to help them rescue the others.”
Hawknest looked less than convinced. “Do we pack and go then?”
Handel considered this. “I have a feeling that this is just the beginning, but of what I cannot tell. We go.”
“You have made the right decision,” Zya replied.
Scarlet reacted by gathering their things. Leaving the shelter as they had found it, they were soon loping out in the stride that devoured ground as if it were but a morsel. They crossed the path of the travellers to the South, taking a different route as they tried to ensure that nobody came across them. Not that anybody would have. The typical tribal woodsman tended to move like a ghost at will, and if they did not want to be seen, then only the sharpest of eyes could spot their passing. They slowed, almost to the point of stopping. The trees were up ahead, the track angling off to the East where it looped around some hills that rose steadily out of the great flat expanse that was this land. Hawknest kept a watch on the camp for any signs of movement, but there was none.
The group did not know it, but Cahal had seen their approach from far off, and made the travellers aware of the situation. Zya led the group through the trees until they found the inhabitants of the copse waiting for them around the wagons.
“Peace be with you,” Handel said, bowing.”
“And with you,” Mavra replied. “It is a pleasure to meet distant friends at last.”
Handel introduced himself and Scarlet.
“Damn me.” Cahal swore, “your lass is the spitting image of Zya, even more alike than Handel is to Tarim. Well there is a secret revealed.” He said. “If Tarim and Zya are not descended from tribal stock, then this is the greatest coincidence I have ever seen, and I do not believe in coincidence. Was there not a third?” He asked.
Hawknest jumped down from the roof of the wagon, landing lightly enough to not make a noise. He bowed. “Well met, my fragrant friend. May the scent of pine hide your odour.”
“Well if that's not the strangest tribal greeting I have ever heard. Indeed, may the wisdom of trees teach me to remember all the training that I have received throughout my life.”
“Merdonese tribesmen.” Jaden said with suspicion. “Are you not far afield for the forest tribe?”
“That is very true, we are far from our home,” Handel replied. “But be glad that we met, for you are in a perilous situation, travelling slowly through this country. If you will, let us explain.”
“If there is any danger to the caravan, then I want to know about it.” Cahal growled.
Mavra inclined her head, bidding the rest of the caravan to silence. “We are following members of our caravan, taken from us by mercenaries. Can you help us?”
“You hold your departed in great esteem,” Scarlet observed, and Cahal chuckled. “You even sound similar.”
“You make them sound as if they have passed away,” Mavra replied. “They are not out of mind, only out of sight. They left us a long while back, and could be anywhere. I am sure that they are coping just fine wherever they are.”
Handel strode past them, becoming the centre of attention as he stood before the fire. “We need to discuss our reasons for contacting you. We have news about what is happening in this region, and believe that we could benefit each other. We know where they have taken your companions.”
“All of them?” Layric jumped into the conversation. “My wife?”
“We cannot say if it is all of them, and would not deem to deceive you into thinking that all are there.” Handel was sincere and sympathetic in his reply. “We can tell you that the band of mercenaries rode to the West, and took with them a group of people that did not look like mercenaries, but wore the same garb as you. They were far ahead of you though, and it will take many days for you to catch up with them.” He looked around at the travellers gathered listening to him. “I am not sure what you would have done had you caught them. I can tell you that we can help you if that is your aim. We have been charged to protect this region from an atrocity greater than you might believe possible.”
“An atrocity?” Mavra asked. “I would say that it is an atrocity that we have had to lose members of my caravan to those thugs.”
Handel looked her straight in the eye. “Would you also say that it is an atrocity to see a village full of people that have been forced upon stakes, so that the streets run red with blood, and every house is carnage? That is what we have seen, and we have seen it more than once. Your mercenaries are only a small part of what is happening here, and the evil is growing.”
Zya curled up as her stomach cle
nched. “That is what it is. I dreamed of it happening, but not on such a scale. People are dying right now.” To Zya the day suddenly grew that much stiller, and the temperature, even in the protected copse, felt as if it had dropped. Goosebumps prickled up the flesh on her arms as she realised that her life was becoming deadly serious. If there was a natural sound of woodland, then it disappeared as she withdrew into her waking dream.
“What are you talking about?” Mavra asked. “Villages being killed off? I can't believe what I have just heard.”
“This is real. There are men being driven by something evil that are slaughtering entire villages of the plains for no other reason than they believe in peace.”
“Evil? What do you mean? Where are these villages?”
“There is one a few leagues to the West.” Handel spoke quietly, as if the mention of such a macabre topic was an affront to the Gods themselves. “We have passed only one other, and that was enough to convince those that accompanied us that there was more at risk than some random butchering. There is magic at play here.”
Zya expected them all to scoff at the reality of magic, but instead they looked at each other.
“That does not surprise me, to be honest.” Layric broke the silence. “Zya here is one that has something special about her. I guess that you could call it magic. She had an intuition; I suppose it could be called. Ultimately, that was what led her from us. Maybe she knew this was going to happen and needed to be away from it. I don't know why she is here now”
“She knows magic?” Hawknest asked?”
“No, I do not know magic.” Zya stood, straightening her clothes. The feeling was controllable. “I have the power of a seer, the skill used by the wise women of the Steppes tribes. I dream the future. It is not magic per se. Nevertheless, I had to find out for myself.”
“We would never prevent anybody from following their own path.” Mavra interjected. “That is not our way. We follow the Old Law, and so do any that travel with us, for I believe that is what you intend to do.”
Mavra had seen straight to the heart of the matter. Zya did not know this wilful young lady, but she knew that Mavra was firmly in charge here, and that she was very perceptive, though only recently so. The girl Zya once knew still looked about for support, but only occasionally.
“That is indeed why we approached you. We have been charged by our companions to seek salvation for those that are in danger of falling to the evil that even now spreads across the land, sowing fear and suffering like seeds in the field. Your companions have been taken by those responsible, and therefore we would help you.”
“What good will three of you be?” asked Gren. “Don't get me wrong here, I am sure you are formidable in your own right, but you are still only three.”
“That we are,” Handel agreed. “But there are more of our tribe spread out in an attempt to save people.”
“How many?”
“At last count, there were three score of us that had not gone on with the wizards to search for the Temple of Law.”
“As in the Old Law?” Gren asked, suddenly very interested in the change of topic.
“The very same. Three wizards came to our tribe, and spoke words that had been foreordained. They gained access to a temple that had been sealed for generations, and it pointed the way to another place. They each had their own goals, but I can promise you that they would stand by us were they still here.”
“And they have told you to guard their backs.” Gren sounded less than impressed with the route the story was taking.
“No, that is not how it is,” Hawknest butted in, glaring at Gren. “We are trying to help because we have witnessed a horror that you are simply not prepared to comprehend. There are villages out there, whole villages, where the people have been slaughtered, every last man woman and child. Do you hear me? Every last man, woman and child. Nobody was spared.”
This outburst left them all quiet. Hawknest's words drilled the truth of the situation home, to both the travellers and his companions. There would be no mercy by the evil force of men out to reduce the countryside to a population that while not great to begin with, would soon be negligible at best.
“Do you know why they are doing this?” Mavra asked.
No answer was forthcoming. “All we have seen are villages and farmsteads ruined.” Scarlet volunteered. “They are doing this West of the mountains, through Ardicum and Ciaharr. It is almost as if they are driving us into the sea. Nobody will enter the villages, not any more. Each village is covered by an aura of evil.”
“How do you know this?”
Handel answered her. “I was with the wizards when they used their stones to sense the magic. They said that it was all part of a greater scheme, and that only by saving the villagers would it stop, so that is what we do.”
Mavra sighed out loud, a disparate sound that seemed to imply that she was giving up. “How are we supposed to get past all of them to rescue the rest? I can't believe that I was going to sacrifice our homes for the sake of speed.”
“No, you are not going to do that,” Handel replied, “at least not alone. We are going to do it together.”
“Find solace in this, Mavra.” Zya added. “There is still hope in the world.”
“More than hope,” Tarim continued. “We will have a chance, but it will take more than we currently have to save your family.”
Mavra turned her palms up in a gesture of defeat. “One moment everybody is positive and full of drive, the next plagued with self-doubt and unwilling to see the way forward. This is what we have.” She said as she pointed around her.
Handel followed the direction of her hand as she moved around the copse. “What I see you have is a defendable position and camouflage. In fact there is none better within leagues. You have shelter, and you have defence.” Handel nodded at the two guards, who inclined their heads in a gesture of acknowledgement. You also have us, and others like us, who will be able to teach you the skills that are needed.”
“What skills?”
“Woodsman's skills,” Lorn replied.
Cahal grinned with enthusiasm. “I have always wanted to add them to my list.”
“It is not easy, but if young Ju can do it, then so too can you.”
“You are part of the way there.” Handel conceded. “You knew that we were coming didn't you?”
“I saw you when you were still far off, trying to circle us.” Cahal admitted, Jaden backing him up with a silent nod.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Mavra demanded.
“Because part of his job as a guard is to judge risks, and he knew that we did not pose a threat.” Lorn replied for him. “I am from a tribe that although only a distant relation through some ancient blood, nonetheless values exactly the same view on life as the forestmen. You are as safe here as much as you can be anywhere. Safer, even.”
Cahal nodded. “Why scare people when there is no need?”
“Because we have been attacked in the past by tall dark strangers, for one fact.” Mavra said angrily. “You remember Zya? Those two that took my sister? The only sister that I have never seen again?”
“I remember, Mavra. I regret in part that we did not take care of them there and then, but should we have done so, we would have broken the most fundamental tenets of the Old Law.”
“You would truly have done that?” Handel looked surprised.
“It was not up to us.” Mavra offered everybody a drink, pouring liberally. “They were two strangers, one not unlike yourself but with shorter hair, the other covered from head to toe in black. They bewitched Erilee somehow. From the time that they tried to attack our caravan, my sister was never the same.”
“They are not like us,” Handel promised her sincerely. “Whoever they are.” His voice trailed off.
Hawknest took up the tale. “There are stories we had heard in the past. They tell of dark wizards, those who had a different magic to those of the wood and the river. They form part of our upbringing,
but only the eldest know them all. I will think upon it some more one of these days.”
“Let us compare notes, my forest friend.” Gren the cook, until now mostly quiet, spoke up.”
“You would help?”
“Nobody can tell a story like Gren can.” Zya said, and everybody that knew him smiled or chuckled. “If there is a common factor between your tales, you have a good chance of finding it here.”
“How would you say we go about what you have proposed?” Mavra asked.
Handel looked around him. “First off, you need to conceal yourselves better than you have so far. You are not going anywhere for a while, and this copse could hide you better.”
“Not going anywhere. Are we not going to try and rescue my family?”
“Not in a wagon,” Hawknest said. “You can't roll up to these mercenaries and demand your parents back, girl. There are ways and methods.”
“We conceal the wagons and the horses, and we go on foot to free them.” Handel continued to outline his plan, with help from Lorn and Tarim, who guessed correctly that they were closer than anybody suspected to danger.
“And how will we free them? Fight?”
“If need be,” Handel answered honestly, “though it is not the preferred option.”
“By the Sun you are right that it is not the preferred option.” Layric stepped into the conversation. “We follow the Old Law. We are not butchers or mercenaries!”
“Layric, I have something to tell you all, something that I was told.” Handel addressed Layric personally, knowing that the others would listen as well. “The three wizards were from the Order of Law, in a city to the East. One of them was so well versed in the tenets that he lived and breathed them. He once said something akin to what you just said, but with time he came to see that it was only his point of view that was restricting him. The Old Law does not bind a person. It is only a guide. It acknowledges that in order to accomplish certain purposes, other answers must sometimes be sought. Unrestrained violence, vengeance, they are things we must never use. It is intent that rules the method used to accomplish a goal. We will try and save your families, and we may need to fight for them. Ask yourself this: is violence in this case justified? The wizard for one saw that it was. If you go out to rescue your people, and then find that you want to do that little bit more than necessary to get the job done, then you are straying into the Lawless bounds. We have no malice towards these mercenaries, or even those that lead them. Malice would mean that our intent is not true. We do not want to go out and kill for pleasure, but if we must kill to save ourselves, then kill we shall. We have been charged with saving as many of the villagers and farmsteads as we can, and that we shall do.”
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 23