by Toni Cox
“He can do that?” Riker asked, astounded.
“I believe so,” Jaik said. “But he did not want to jeopardise her mission. He apologises for the destruction he has caused.” Jaik added as Commander Willowbay joined them.
“Yes,” Calemir Willowbay said, “but it is understandable. If it pleases the dragon I might ask my men to rectify the damage?”
“You may go ahead,” Jaik assured him and Commander Willowbay turned to give his orders.
“I suppose the only thing we can do now is wait,” Riker said.
“Let us hope it will not be for too long.”
Retracing her steps back to the Gate proved more difficult than she expected. Someone had brought in a pack of Werewolves during the time she was inside and the beasts were given free rein within the compound.
It was dark by the time she finally reached the gate of the compound and she only narrowly escaped her last encounter with a Werewolf that tracked her for at least half a mile. In the end, she had to kill it so it would not give her away. She had not wanted to stab it - its death would raise alarm - instead she had cut off the animal’s supply of oxygen. It took more energy from her than she would have liked and, as the animal in general did not need a lot of oxygen to breathe, the process had taken a lot longer than expected. She had felt terrible.
Now she stood in front of the closed gates, still feeling weak from her exertion, and had no way to get out. She wondered if she could climb the fence; even though it was made from bone and wire, the fence looked sturdy, but was at least twice as tall as her. Besides the guards at the gate, there were now night guards patrolling along the edges of the fence.
Tiredly she sat down behind a tent. It was dark here and even the smoky torches scattered around the compound did not brighten the night. The temptation to close her eyes was strong, but she did not want to fall asleep. It took all her willpower to remain awake and watch the gate, but it was hours before eventually a group of Vampyres dragging a crate on rollers pulled up to the gate and asked to be allowed to enter.
Carefully she rose from her position and fortified the bubble around her; the Werewolves by the gate had sniffed her out before. Then the gate was opened wide and the unwieldy crate rolled on through. Squeezing between the crate and the gate post, she slipped through unnoticed and was running before they had even closed the gate.
Her tired legs and painful lungs protested wildly as she jogged the ten miles or so back to the stones. She did not know what the Vampyres called their Gate, but did not want to think of it as Greystone. Besides, the stones on this side were black and almost looked like obsidian, just rougher.
She eventually reached the area around the stones and carefully picked her way between the crates and equipment stored around it. Here, security was not as tight as around the compound and she managed to get within the circle almost unchallenged. Only once did a Werewolf lift his head to look in her direction as she tip-toed past his resting place around the fire.
Within the tent-like structure surrounding the stones, she was faced with a more difficult problem. No one was arriving at the stones, which would have masked her leaving. She waited for another long while, but nothing happened. She considered waiting until the morning, hoping traffic might then resume.
She wondered how the Vampyres that had arrived close to her arrival here managed to get past the army already encamped around Greystone. Did they also have magic and were able to manipulate the air around them? How had her troops not noticed that Vampyres were using their Gate to return to Naylera? She was baffled by these questions and decided to address them as soon as she returned.
As she waited, she felt her energy levels dip dangerously; she would not hold her bubble for much longer. She had to leave now. There was no one else within the structure and she hoped that the canvas surrounding the stones would muffle the effects of her departure. Nevertheless, she took extra care as she summoned the energy and tried to keep its effects to a minimum. It took all her remaining strength to concentrate, not only on summoning the Gate, but also to dampen the sound and light of departure, as well as maintaining her bubble.
The last thing she saw before the energy took her away was only a slight flicker in the air around her; no blast radius of energy, no sound.
This is how they do it, she thought before everything went dark.
“Maia.”
Her limbs felt like lead and she was so tired, but she was warm and she felt completely safe cradled in his arms.
“Can you hear me? Open your eyes,” he said gently.
“Mm.”
She just wanted to sleep; she had spent the last of her energy on coming through the Gate and now that she knew she was safe, there was nothing else that mattered.
“Please, my love, open your eyes.”
Suddenly her heart beat a little faster. Who would address her so? Her thoughts immediately turned to Blaid, but she dismissed the thought as she concentrated on the Eläm around her. She was startled to find Riker held her in his lap, with Jaik and Rothea standing protectively over them. She felt Midnight pacing back and forth on the other side of the stones and the multitude of warriors beyond him.
Wearily she opened her eyes and looked upon Riker’s beautiful face. The relief she saw in it almost brought tears to her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as her body reacted to the love emanating from the man holding her. She gasped.
“There,” he said with such tenderness, “it will be all right now.” He held her close.
She was too tired to resist and his strong arms around her did feel good. But it wasn’t long before Jaik cleared his throat, indicating that Riker had done enough and was now overstepping his boundaries. Obediently Riker assisted Maia to her feet and then handed her over to Jaik, who immediately took her into his arms so she would not collapse.
“Come,” he said, “first you need to rest and then you can tell us everything that happened.”
Rothea stepped up on Maia’s other side and with an encouraging smile draped Maia’s arm around her shoulder to help her walk.
“You gave us quite a scare, My Lady. I am glad you are all right.” Rothea said.
They briefly stopped on the open ground past the last ring of stones and Midnight came over to greet her. She leant against his great muzzle and whispered an apology; she could feel the turmoil within him and she was vaguely aware of the destruction around her. Then Jaik and Rothea took her away and led her to a tent.
Inside, someone had made a bed with blankets and cushions and she also noticed medicinal supplies laid out. No doubt these had been put there for in case she returned injured. As it was, she only felt tired and was thankful to sink into the soft comfort of the bed. Riker brought her a cup with water and Rothea assisted her as she took a few small sips. Then she lay back and with the soothing tones of her brother and friends conversing softly she drifted off into a deep sleep.
He was upset. It was going from bad to worse. Although they had some successes, matters were not going as planned and he was becoming restless. He needed to push on and take action before someone else did something foolish. He played with the ring on his finger and the symbols on it glowed briefly, giving him hope. He needed to make a decision, but the current situation presented so many problems that he was unsure of how to proceed.
He had done well alone up until now and sometimes he wished it could remain this way, but he knew he had to join them soon and he could not remain here for much longer. There was only one more thing he had to do before he left though, but the object of his desire was missing. There was nothing he could do about it but wait, even if it put him in danger.
Word had come from the east that their forces would arrive within the next half Moon. They would join with those already present and then make their way here. Those from the south had been delayed and it was there he was needed. Getting there was no problem; leaving here was the real issue.
He sighed; he finished writing his messages and then sent them off. He
had stated his intentions to everyone involved and they would be expecting him to follow through. He just hoped it left him with enough time to do what he had come here to do.
Returning to his quarters, he took off his black cloak and sat by the window, staring out into the darkness. How his life had changed. He marvelled at what he had accomplished and he could not wait for the rewards promised. It would not be long now. He would be rich and he would be Master and everything would change.
He watched the dust motes stir in the air with every breath he exhaled. He had only just woken up and was still trying to make sense of his situation. Finally, it all came back to him; the fight with the Vampyres and Elves in the stronghold, finding a hiding place and trying to heal his injuries. He sat up quickly. He winced as the scabs of his wounds pulled on his skin, but they held. Shaking off the clothes he had covered himself with, he examined his body. For how long had he been asleep? By the look of his wounds at least two to three days, maybe even longer. They were all clean and covered by healthy scabs; there was no inflammation or redness. His muscles protested as he rose to get dressed, but it was stiffness from being stationary for so long. The stiffness soon left his limbs as he went outside to gather fire wood. It was late afternoon on a mild day and he lingered a while in the late sunlight.
Before he went back into his cave, he scanned his surroundings. He detected no Life-Forces except those of the animals of the mountains and some birds that still hovered over the place where the stronghold had been. No doubt the crows and other carrion birds had already made a meal out of his kills and he was sure the rest would have been taken by the Mountain Wolves. He hoped they had made a good job of it and there would not be much evidence left of the destruction.
He built up his fire and heated water for tea. He had not eaten or had anything to drink for at least two days. He rummaged through the provisions stolen from the stronghold and contented himself with dried meat and travel bread. He drank cold water from the flask and once the water over the fire had boiled, made himself some tea. Chamomile was the only one he had, but it was as good to consume as it was to wash his wounds.
He felt stronger now, his wounds were healing and the food renewed his energy levels. It was too late to leave tonight, but he would be on his way in the morning. He had learned a lot about the plans of the Vampyres and he needed to get back to Shadow Hall to give his report. He doubted that Lord Longshadow would be happy to see him, but the information was important and might essentially save thousands of lives.
He also hoped it would garner him some favour with the lord and would finally allow him access to Maia. She was constantly on his mind and he did not feel complete without her. Thinking about her now reminded him of the danger she was in back home and he hoped that Midnight and the people around her would keep her safe. He consoled himself with the fact that those people loved her almost as much as he did and he was sure they would not let any harm come to her.
Banking the fire, he then lay down to sleep. He needed more rest.
A sound woke him and he was startled to see that it was already morning. It was still dark outside, but the unmistakable glow of the sun grew stronger even as he rose to investigate the noise.
Silently he crept to the opening of the cave and peered out. Everything was quiet now and he did not see anything. Then he heard it again; a faint clink of metal against metal. He scanned the surroundings and managed to pick up faint Eläm somewhat down the slope from his cave.
Quickly he packed the bag with the meagre belongings he had managed to scavenge and followed the faint sounds. He had to climb steep cliffs to reach the path trodden by many feet and the smell that remained in the air left no doubt as to who came before him; Vampyres, hundreds of them.
He followed them and was surprised by their slow progress. The end of the column eventually came into view; Vampyres walking two abreast on the narrow path; but he was unable to make out the head of the column with the twisting turns of the path through the mountain. By their tracks and their smell, he estimated there to be at least eight hundred. Blaid assumed that these were the reinforcements the Generals at the stronghold had been waiting for.
These Vampyres looked like they had been marching for a long time. Even with their superior strength and speed, they appeared almost at strength’s end. All carried full armour, plus additional equipment. He wondered where they came from. He considered the Gate in the east, but that was over five thousand miles away and he quickly dismissed it. Even the Gate somewhat south-east of Grildor was almost three thousand miles away and it seemed unlikely. The question puzzled him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, for the column of Vampyres was on their way to the stronghold and they would surely find what was left of the massacre or, at the very least, a ransacked and abandoned camp.
Soon the column slowed and then stopped and there were some shouted commands before the column was on the move again. Blaid knew the leaders had now reached the stronghold and were surely investigating the scene. They would be on high alert, so he found a hiding place for his bag and clothes and changed into the wolf. It was the first time he had changed since his injuries and, although they were healing well, shifting form tore some of them open again. He whined quietly, but shook it off. His body would get used to it once he got moving.
He swung to his left and headed for higher ground. There was less vegetation higher up the mountain to shelter him, but there were many crags and caves he could hide in if necessary. The higher ground would also give him an advantage if it came to a fight and he would be able to see them coming.
Soon he had them in his sights again and, as suspected, the Vampyres had made camp in the old stronghold. It was difficult to see now exactly how much evidence was left to find with so many of them moving around in the camp site, but he hoped that in this case their numbers counted against them and their sheer multitude would trample evidence that would lead to him.
As the Vampyres erected their camp, the valley of the stronghold barely large enough to hold their number, Blaid found himself a position far away enough not to be detected, but close enough for his sharp wolf hearing to pick up sounds the Vampyres made.
This group, however, was not accompanied by Elves, and Blaid was not able to understand any of the commands given by the Generals. During his studies with his master he had chosen Dwarfish, all five dialects, as well as Meridian, the main language of Mer-Rom, and English, the main language of Earth. Nayleran would have been much more helpful right now.
It did not take him long to discover who the true Generals were and who was following orders. Only about one hundred of these Vampyre were what they had come to know as Generals; bigger, stronger, faster, and obviously higher ranking; the rest were mere foot soldiers.
These reinforcements were supposed to carry out a mission on this side of the lake, maybe even in and around Stoneloft. If he left now to return to Shadow Hall, he would leave the people on this side of the lake to whatever fate these Vampyres planned for them. He had to find out what they were planning and let the people of Stoneloft and the surrounding towns know. As far as he knew, the army of Stoneloft had already left for Greystone, which put the remaining people at risk. He could not leave now. The people needed to be warned and, if he had anything to do with it, the Vampyres had to be stopped before they could do damage.
With a low growl, he settled in for the night in a tight crevasse within the steep cliff above the camp and watched as the Vampyres went about their business. Slowly, a plan formed in the back of his mind.
Maia fretted about going to see her father all the way home. She expected him to be furious, rightly so, and she thought of the right words to tell him when they returned.
When she finally stood before him and he greeted her with deathly silence, she was at a loss for words. Only when her mother came running through the door and took her into her arms, tears streaming down her face, did Jagaer finally stir. He cleared his throat and sat down behind his large desk.
/> Malyn gave Maia one final hug and then retreated to the small sitting area at the back of the large room. Maia stood uncertain for a moment longer, but then Jaik took her elbow and guided her to one of the chairs in front of her father’s desk. He took a seat beside her.
“So,” Jagaer said, “you have returned. Deliver your report.”
Startled that he could be so cold, she looked at her brother for help.
“Go ahead,” Jaik encouraged.
“Um, they have a supply camp based around the stones,” she finally said.
“Yes,” her father said, “Somas mentioned this last time as well, but it was not well stocked.”
“Then that has changed. There are crates and crates of equipment stacked within half a square mile all around the stones. There are some items which look like they were manufactured on Naylera, such as the crates themselves, but the majority of all goods are elven.”
“Such as?”
“They have rolls of canvas, which they are mainly using for tents. There are piles of wood they are using to manufacture spears and arrows. I found boxes of elven clothes, weapons, armour and various metals. But the strangest thing I found within the supply camp was a large collection of maps. The largest one, a complete map of Grildor, has places marked on it. There were also detailed maps of our cities, as well as maps of neighbouring countries.”
“If I showed you a map, would you be able to mark the same places that you saw on that map?” her father asked, finally some animation on his face.
“Yes, Father.” she replied.
Jagaer nodded to someone standing by the door and Maia heard whoever it was leave.
“What else did you see?”