by RG Long
Well, maybe Ealrin didn't feel quite so bad after all.
The only thing Ealrin regretted was not saying bye to Blume. The journey that had brought them to Thoran had been one of peril and haste. Yet he felt a bond with the young girl, as he imagined a father might care for a daughter.
Perhaps Teresa would be able to explain to the girl, after the fighting calmed down, where Ealrin was sent and for what purposes. Blume had proven herself useful on the road and complained very little. Her ability to Speak to the elements through her Rimstone necklace had saved their lives on more than one account. If only a Speaker had accompanied them this time.
“Light,” Lote called from the front of the group. “Up ahead.”
“Bah!” called Gorplin. “So soon?”
A small crack in the mountainside let in the light of the midday suns. It took a few long moments of blinking to adjust his eyes back to the harsh daylight that was in such contrast to the dark tunnel. Ealrin was not all too surprised to see a small contingent of armed shepherds meet them as they exited. Teresa was a true general, not leaving any weakness to be easily exploited. These warriors had obviously protected this exit from Thoran for a long time.
“The princess sent word ahead of you,” the tallest one said as he saluted the six of them. “May the suns smile down on you in your endeavor.”
And with the blessing of a shepherd carrying a sword, they were off.
9: Unplanned Adventures
Blume was still fuming at Jeremy the next morning when she woke up from what little sleep she had been able to get. The food set out for the morning meal didn't appeal to her furious attitude. Blume had only poked it around her plate. The entire Speaker School ate in a large room in the tower they occupied in Castle Thoran, from the youngest student to the oldest. Something about being a whole unit or some nonsense that Blume was sure was an insignificant detail at the moment. Her mind was on Jeremy's betrayal. She glared at him all through breakfast, ignoring his third attempt at an apology.
“I swear,” he repeated, “I was just trying to say I was sorry. You didn't have to hex me like you did. Or punch me for that matter.”
He was rubbing his sore nose. It had recently been punched quite soundly.
Still fuming at being tattled on and even more upset that he had come into her room without knocking and scared her half to death, Blume was nearly ready to Speak some other curse on him. The only thing holding her back was the watchful eye of Madam Wishter, sitting at her own breakfast table a few paces away from Blume's.
“The hex was for ratting me out to Wishter. The punch to your nose was for scaring me stiff. Who sneaks into a girl's room without even as much as a knock? You're awful Jeremy. I wish I hadn't ever met you.”
Jeremy looked hurt and that satisfied Blume for the time being.
At least he looked like she felt. Blume was tired of being treated like a kid at this school. She was advanced well beyond her peers and felt like she deserved at least some respect. Just looking at Jeremy's hurt nose made her upset. She rose from her spot and was going to find somewhere else to sit. She didn't care if it totally disregarded Madam Wishster's seating chart for the entire school. There had to be an empty seat for a teenage girl to fume in by herself somewhere.
Unfortunately, she stood up in such a huff that she knocked over her plate of buttered bread and apples. It shattered as soon as it hit the stone floor of the eating area.
“Miss Dearcrest,” came the familiar voice of the school's matriarch over the morning commotion.
Blume was sure she was about be scolded, once again, for something that she would consider unfair or at the very least, a trifle.
Or she would have been, had the entire tower not given a shake as soon as Madam Wishter stood from her chair.
Dishes and students scattered. The head mistress went down with the rest of them. Blume was one of the few to remain unseated by the sheer fact that she had thrown herself atop her table.
Several cried out in alarm while others began to rush to the windows to see what would have caused the tremor.
“Madam Wishter!” called one of the instructors who had scrambled from his seat to a nearby window. Blume recognized him as Mister Feardin. As he turned from the window, his skin drained of all its color. “The castle! It's under attack!”
***
THE STAIRS LEADING from the tower into the castle's main halls were a clatter of voices and parading feet. Some of the younger students were in tears, despite the comforting words of teachers and older classmates alike. Others just ran down the spiraling stone steps as quickly as their feet would carry them.
Blume fell into the latter category.
She had been in more perilous situations before and was not one to lose her mind over a small thing like a goblin siege on her new home. She was a very mature fourteen years old after all. These were the things she kept reminding herself of as she flew down into the hallway that connected the tower to the main fortification. Teachers were herding students deeper into the castle in order to retreat from any danger that may come hurtling at them.
Blume was ready to follow instructions and seek asylum in the deeper recesses of the mountain. Past two tapestries and a window was a hallway that lead north, which meant the stones that line the walls were carved from the mountain itself. To be covered by those passageways was to be in the safest place in Thoran. As she was preparing to turn the corner, something caught her eye. Someone running past in maroon and gold armor and two swords sheathed on her back.
The princess herself.
Her decision was made in a split second. The school that had taught her about Speaking was great, but using her skills to defend those she loved was more valuable than any test or reading assignment.
Blume was off to follow Teresa.
***
THEY RACED DOWN ONE hall, turned left, and then another and turned right. Blume was becoming winded just trying to keep Teresa in sight. It was a difficult task in part because of the Speaking school's emphasis on learning and neglect of any physical training.
Sweat poured from her as she chased after the ruler of Thoran.
After two flights of stairs and three heavy doors, Blume found herself in the royal stables connected to the castle. Teresa was already on her horse and urging it down the road and towards the southern wall. A stable attendant who had just finished adjusting Teresa's saddle looked to the open door Teresa stood in and yelled at her.
“Hey! What are you three doing there! It's dangerous!”
Three? What is he talking about? Blume thought as she stopped in her tracks.
Her questioning was ended when she crashed to the floor as both Jeremy and Abigail came bowling over her.
At first Blume wanted to swear. Loudly. How had these two managed to follow her without her noticing? And why pick now to be so clumsy? Surely they'd be sent back to the castle and all of Blume's hopes of being useful to Teresa would be lost.
And then, fortune smiled down on her.
A cart led by three regal looking horses sped by the opening of the gate. In its wait ran several soldiers of Thoran, carrying buckets and swords alike. One of them stopped and grabbed the stable hand by the collar of his shirt.
“We need every able man down at the wall! You're coming with us!”
And before the young man could offer any resistance, or better still, before he could chase off Blume and her two uncoordinated followers, he vanished out of the door.
This gave the three enough time to pick themselves up off of the ground and brush the dirt and grime off of them.
“What do you think you're doing, following me all the way down here?” Blume yelled as she dusted off the last patch of dirt from her robes.
“Well, at first I wanted to know why you weren't obeying the rules and seeking shelter with the rest of the Speakers. And then I told Jeremy that you were headed off in the wrong direction. Then the next thing that happened after that was...”
Jeremy cut
her off. Abigail, should she go unchecked, could talk for an entire morning without running out of words or stopping for a breath. For once, Blume was thankful for the dirty little snitch of a classmate.
“We wanted to know what you were up to,” he said as he cupped a hand to Abigail's mouth.
Abigail pouted and shoved his hand away with a quick “Rude!” shouted in his direction.
“I'm going to the wall,” said Blume. “And you two aren't stopping me.”
She turned to exit the stable and make her way down to the battle. Jeremy and Abigail tailed her.
“Well, how do you suppose you're going to get down there? I saw lots of kids our age being brought into the castle while we were following you. I looked out the third story window by where the funny tree is planted in that large blue pot...”
Again, Jeremy interrupted her.
“The point is,” he said loudly, trying to drown out Abigail's babbling. “As soon as they see three teenagers headed toward the wall they're going to shuffle us back up to the castle.”
Blume couldn't dispute their logic, however annoying it may be at the time, but she wasn't going to give up her quest so easily, either.
As they came out of the door and into the morning sunlight, the answer stopped right in front of them.
Another cart, pulled by a pair of horses, came to a halt next to a few empty barrels.
“Here are some more! Grab 'em and throw 'em in the cart! Quick!”
Looking back over her shoulder Blume informed her fellow Speakers, “Come on, if you insist on following me. But be quiet!”
In another moment, the cart was headed off down the main road to the wall of Thoran carrying a few extra barrels and a few extra stowaways.
***
THE TEENAGE TRIO HOPPED off the cart as soon as it came to halt, hoping that the driver wouldn't notice and send them back to the castle.
Blume soon put aside all fear of being singled out, however.
The scene next to the wall was chaos.
Soldiers of every description ran this way and that. Some carried buckets of water to throw on several missiles from the goblins that had been sent over the wall in a ball of flames. Others carried armfuls of arrow quivers up the steps to the battlements and waiting archers. Still more carried heavy looking artillery pieces or a sword and shield.
Thoran was prepared to defend itself.
Amidst all the chaos, Blume felt exhilarated. She had experienced this before on the road with Holve and Ealrin. Whenever they were threatened or attacked, she hadn't wanted to run away from harm. She wanted to help with the battle.
Her two companions, however, seemed much less excited. Abigail was whimpering and grabbing onto Blume's arm. She was talking so fast that Blume could only catch every other word. The two that kept getting repeated were “scared” and “home.”
Jeremy was at least trying to seem brave. A quick glance at his face, however, proved to Blume that he was about as frightened as Abigail. The color had all but drained from his face and his fists were clenched tightly. His words were slow and purposeful.
“We ought to have stayed behind, Blume.”
There was no explaining the excitement she felt to Jeremy and Abigail. They had never used their gifts in battle before. She was the only one in her whole school to have been in any serious need of using Speaking to defend herself or her friends. Until they had been in a battle, Blume doubted they would ever really understand. It was when she was putting her skills to good use that she felt most alive.
This moment was no exception. Blume scanned her surroundings quickly, hoping for a glimpse of Princess Teresa. No such luck. But she knew that the battle-hardened ruler would be where the fighting was fiercest. It was at that moment that a man from the wall shouted “Enemy ladders!”
Before Abigail or Jeremy could protest, Blume was racing up the nearest set of stairs to the top of the wall. As she ran, more than one soldier looked at her in alarm. Blume gave them no time to tell her this was not a place for a young girl to be. Her robes were the color of most Speakers of Thoran, gold with maroon sleeve cuffs. The exception was the white trim added to the very tips of the sleeves. The white marked her, as well as Jeremy and Abigail, as a Speaker in training. Blume prayed the soldiers wouldn't know any better as she reached the top just in time for a ladder carrying a gray-skinned goblin crashed into the wall.
Adrenaline pulsed through her as she grabbed her necklace and pointed her hand at the sword-wielding goblin that leapt onto the stone defenses. She muttered under her breath and a shot of blue energy spun out of her fingers and hit the monster right in the chest, sending him flying back over the ladder and into another goblin. The two of them went crashing down below.
A soldier stared at Blume with his mouth wide open, while others around him began to fight back the other goblins who had climbed atop the battlements. Blume felt very proud of herself. Her first goblin killed and the battle had just begun! And just a stone's throw away, fighting off three short goblins herself, was Teresa.
Blume was running towards her before she had any other thoughts. Had she not been pulled backward so quickly and violently, she would have reached the princess in just a moment's time. Irritated and confused, Blume looked back to see that Jeremy had one of her arms and Abigail held the other. Jeremy was shouting.
“What are you doing!? You're going to get yourself mutilated up here!”
“No!” Blume shot back at him. “You're going to get me killed! Let go!”
Though she struggled with all her might, her spell had drained her just enough to make resisting her two classmates a real challenge. Blume regretted not eating more breakfast.
“Blume if we don't get off this wall we'll be chopped up by goblins or something far worse! Oh please come back down the stairs with us where it's safe!” Abigail pleaded incessantly.
The only thing more insane about her current state of affairs, thought Blume, was that there seemed to be goblins attacking the wall at every turn, save for where the three of them stood. If Jeremy and Abigail didn't let go soon, she was going to blast them off of her!
As she began to think of the proper words, she looked out over the forest and saw why no goblin ladders were being hoisted up at this spot. She also heard a soldier, who had just thrown the body of a goblin over the wall and back down to its own kind shout, “Incoming!”
The projectile hit the wall just beneath them, shaking the very stones they stood on, and sending the three Speakers in training down into the ranks of a thousand goblins. Blume twisted her head into the forest, spoke words she had read only yesterday, and the three vanished in a brilliant display of green sparks, just before they hit the earth.
10: The Forests of Thoran
The company from Thoran walked far that first week. By Lote's reckoning, the mountain pass that would signal their entering the lands of Beaton was still a week's walk away. Still to be crossed were the mountain passageways and the forest before them. To travelers unsure of their way, the forest could prove treacherous. But this group, led by an elf who had spent countless days roaming the woods, would not lose their way.
Ealrin was glad for that. The southern parts of Thoran had all been mountains and cliffs. The road had been clearly marked, even though at times slow going. The forest that lay before them was vast and, though the road they walked on now went straight into it, he couldn't help the feeling of foreboding that was coming over him.
The first few nights passed without event or hindrance. They slept in the open, keeping watching in shifts. As they marched closer to the forest, talk turned to how they would fare in the woods.
“Lote,” Ealrin asked the elf. “What do we need to be on the lookout for in the woods? Down south we were always on the prowl for goblins or for the Mercs. What should we anticipate inside the trees?”
“I've heard that the forest is full of ghosts,” said Gorplin in a hushed short of voice.
A few glances were exchanged between the trave
lers. Ealrin smiled at Bertrom, who halfheartedly returned it.
Surely he doesn't think he means it, Ealrin thought. Believing in ghosts is ridiculous.
As he looked around at the others, however he saw a few casting doubtful glances at the forest ahead of them.
“And I have never heard,” said Lote, “of a dwarf who was a superstitious old fool.”
These words caused Gorplin to reach for his axe, but Ealrin put out a hand to him.
“You are not among enemies, friend,” he said. “But I have a hard time believing in ghosts as well.”
Gorplin looked at Ealrin seriously, which was quite out of character.
“You have seen goblins and demons. You've even seen a fair bit of magic, I hear, from that Speaker friend of yours. What makes believing in ghosts so crazy, eh?”
The dwarf gazed at Ealrin for a time. Then shook his head and let out a grumpy, “Bah.”
Ealrin looked ahead and shrugged his shoulders. With a pat on Gorplin's back, he let the matter rest.
“All the same,” he said. “We will still have to march through the forest. Unless you are willing to fashion us a boat from the trees and sail around.”
“Bah,” repeated Gorplin. “Cutting down the trees that belong to the ghosts is as bad as marching through the woods.”
Lote spoke up.
“I agree the trees should stand and that making a boat is foolishness,” she said with a back glance at Ealrin.
She doesn't think I'm serious? He thought.
“Nearly as foolish as believing in ghosts,” Lote added. "Inside the woods we ought to watch for hungry wolves or stray goblins. I doubt we'll find many threats inside. The trolls that once claimed them are now gone. The woods of Thoran have been quiet for generations. We ought to keep it that way."
She turned around and marched on at a quicker pace. The whole company had to speed up to keep stride with the long-legged elf.