Journey to Nivaka

by Leslie E Heath

  The tree’s mossy green eyes narrowed. “My brother? Where are you from?”

  “Wrahm Mountain, the tallest peak in the Raksaso range.” Serik struggled to get upright in the tree’s grasp. “My mother made sure we knew who protected us there.”

  “And now that you know I’m here, how do I trust you not to betray me? I don’t want my brother knowing where I am.” The branch moved him closer to the Saethem’s face.

  “I have no plans to return to the mountains, and neither does my companion.” Serik’s voice came out a raspy whisper, and he gulped before trying again. “I’m traveling south, to your sister’s domain, and he’s staying in the city near the river. We didn’t even know where you were. I found you quite by accident, I swear.”

  “And why shouldn’t I kill you now to keep my secret safe? What do you intend to do in the forest? Will you seek out my sister?”

  “No,” Serik croaked, gasping for breath as the branch tightened around his waist and wrapped around his chest. “I want only a peaceful life. I’ve heard rumors of villages there where I may find employment. I can’t stomach the thought of living in the cities where the land has no soul.”

  “And the men who followed you here? What do they want?”

  The question had the effect of ice water dumped into his veins.

  His answer came out in a ragged whisper. “I thought I’d left them behind days ago, but I think they want to make sure I can’t return.”

  “Fair enough,” the Saethem sighed. “I have no desire to kill you. I have few friends and could use a few more. You must promise to return someday to let me know how you get on. My friends will take care of your pursuers. This trail will lead you back to your companion. Be out of my swamp before night falls. There are creatures here that do not answer to my command.”

  The branch dropped him onto a dry path at the edge of the clearing.

  “One more thing,” the ancient tree said. “When you reach the forest, be sure to be off the ground before the sun sets. Spend your nights as high in the trees as you can get.”

  “Yes, Madam. I will.”

  Serik scrambled to his feet, ignoring his shaking legs, and ran down the trail away from the tree. He ran for a mile or so, never looking back. He took a sharp bend in the path without slowing and collided with Warder’s back.

  “Serik! You’re alive!” Warder grabbed his arm, grinning widely.

  “Yes, but we have to get out of this swamp before the sun sets or we won’t be for long.” Serik forced the words out between gasping breaths.

  They took off at a run and didn’t stop until they reached the edge of the bog, and they only stopped there for a short break before they continued up the hill beyond the tree line. There, the friends dropped to the soft grass, exhausted. Serik stared up at the darkening sky, grateful to be alive. He breathed the fresh air and watched the bats flying overhead, hunting insects in the gathering gloom. Neither man spoke.

  A sudden torrent of cold rain woke him from a deep sleep, and Serik pulled his cloak over his head.

  When the sky had brightened enough that they could see the road, the travelers rose and continued on their way.

  They had only traveled a short distance before Serik said, “I learned something in that swamp.”

  “Oh? Besides how dangerous it is to jump onto giant snakes?”

  Serik laughed. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t my best decision, but it looked like it was about to strike, and those fangs looked dangerous. I only thought of distracting it, not what I’d do after that.”

  “Well, you certainly distracted it.” Warden laughed, but his smile faded a moment later. “I thought it had drowned you.”

  “I’m a bit hardier than that. Seriously, though. I think the Silent Sun Tribesmen are still following us.”

  Warder frowned and sighed. “I think you took care of the ones that attacked us on the mountin. Maybe some of their kin, though. I’ve caught glimpses here and there, so I think you’re right. We’d best stay on our toes and get where we’re going as quick as we can.”

  “Maybe we should start taking turns keeping watch at night,” Serik said.

  “I don’t think so. If it’s the Sun Tribesmen, they never travel or fight after sunset, since they think they get their power from the sun’s light. I think we’ll be safe enough.”

  Unconvinced, Serik shook his head. “I’m not so sure. What if it’s not them? What if someone else is following us – robbers or bandits or something?”

  Warder laughed. “What could bandits possibly want from us? Your old, worn-out knapsack? We’re not dressed like rich city folk. No, it’s personal.” He shrugged. “Besides, how else do you explain the peaceful nights we’ve had so far? If bandits were after us, they would have attacked while we were sleeping.”

  “That’s true enough, I guess,” Serik said.

  They circled around to avoid several caravans waiting out the rain and stopped at a stream near midday. Serik dangled his aching feet in the cool water while he ate a hunk of jerky, and Warder dropped to the bank beside him.

  “How do people travel on such hard ground?” Serik wondered aloud. He’d never experienced a path as painfully packed as the road, and he’d taken to traveling in the softer dirt alongside the road to save his feet.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s why they have those absurd things on their feet,” Warder said, wiggling his bare toes beneath the clear water.

  They traveled south for three more days before the road brought Them to the river city of Kainga – Warder’s destination. The bustling streets made Serik uneasy after so many years in the quietude of the forests.

  “I’m supposed to meet my cousin at the ferry’s dock,” Warder said, perusing his letter again. “I hope I’ll be able to recognize him after so many years.”

  They made their way toward the river, where a long pier jutted out onto the water. At the end of the dock, a short, stocky man stood staring out over the river.

  Warder strolled up to the man, though Serik read uncertainty in his friend’s posture.

  Nodding in welcome, the worker grinned. “Ya look lost, lad,” the man said with a gentle accent. “What c’n I help ye find?”

  “Jerenos? Is that you?” Warder asked, peering into the man’s face.

  “Warder! Ya made it, did ya? Welcome, welcome!” The worker drew his cousin into a crushing embrace. “I can’t take ya home jest yet. The ferry’ll be here any minute. But don’ let that stop ya. You can ride along with me and see what a grand boat she is, or I c’n tell ya how ta get home.”

  “I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind,” Warder said. “I’d love to see the ferry.”

  “Suit yerself.” The muscular little man turned to Serik. “And what about you? Where ya headed?”

  “I need to get across the river,” Serik answered.

  Jerenos frowned, a confused look clouding his eyes. “Where ya headin’ on the other side of the river? Ain’t nuthin’ there but farms and grass.”

  “I’m going to the forest south of here,” Serik said.

  “That might not be yer best bet,” Jerenos said, his face going pale. “No one goes there. Those what do, don’ come out again.”

  “I’ll be all right. There’s someone there who’s expecting me,” Serik lied.

  The short man nodded. “Well, if yer determined, ya got two choices. The ferry’ll be along shortly, and you can ride that across if ya’ve got the coin, or you can keep on trekkin’ down to Imah and walk across the bridge there.”

  Serik felt in his pocket for the few coins he possessed. “How far is it to the bridge?”

  “It’s about two hours down the road. You could make it across before nightfall if you leave now.”

  “Thanks!” Serik said. He turned and grabbed Warder’s hand. “Are you going to be ok?”

  Warder smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I think I am. It feels so good to get away from there.” He turned and stared out over the water. “Who knows, maybe someday I’ll fi
nd another woman, someone who loves me as much as I love her, and we can make our way back to the mountain.”

  “I hope so.” Serik said.

  He turned and strode back down the pier to the main road, hurrying along his way. He hated goodbyes, so he didn’t linger.

  The Saethem’s warning echoed in Serik’s mind as he rushed along the South Road, giving him a sense of urgency and quickening his pace. He noticed the river otters splashing beside the road as he rushed toward the bridge and wished he had time to stop and watch them. He’d always enjoyed watching the creatures of the forest playing in their homes, and he’d never seen otters as large as these before. Still, he kept up a pace just below a jog, and before long, his breath came in quick puffs.

  Just over an hour passed before Serik reached the outer edge of the next city. He didn’t pause but rushed along the river road until he reached the pilings at the entrance to the bridge. He hurried out onto the narrow wooden structure, held tightly to the rail on the side, and joined a group of young men running out onto the walkway.

  Serik kept his eyes on the boards beneath his feet and struggled to ignore the queasy feeling caused by the gentle swaying of the bridge under him. Tall masts jutted into the sky on either side, providing a support for the massive ropes and cables that supported the bridge.

  The cables creaked as the wind kicked up, and Serik ran faster, sprinting across the span until he reached the safety of the ground on the other side. There, he stopped, bracing his hands on his knees and waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

  A glance at the sky made him stand upright and take to the road once more, for the sun had nearly reached the western horizon.

  Serik jogged along the road that led toward the trees he could see beyond the river’s floodplain. He didn’t want to spend another night exposed on the open road if he could avoid it.

  He slipped into the treeline just as the sun’s last rays vanished beneath the horizon. Remembering the Saethem’s warning about being off the ground before sunset, Serik scrambled up the nearest tree and settled onto a wide branch for the night. He removed a hunk of jerky from his pack, glanced down, and froze. There, on the trail beneath his tree, a half dozen members of the Silent Sun Tribe, the men he’d faced on his way out of the mountains, gathered within the forest’s growing darkness.

  Pressing himself back against the tree’s trunk, Serik watched the men rush forward. They hadn’t traveled twenty paces before a group of heavily armed elves and dwarves surrounded them.

  Serik watched in silence, his breath held in fear and wonder, as the men who had followed him such a long distance were outnumbered, overwhelmed, and driven from the forest.

  I bet those little warriors are the reason the Saethem told me to sleep in a tree, Serik thought.

  As soon as the mountain men had passed the tree-line, the little warriors vanished into the darkness. Serik considered the Saethem’s warning again. She hadn’t said just to climb a tree. She had warned him to spend the night as high in the treetops as he could climb. That realization drove him to climb higher before he settled in to sleep.

  Somewhere in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, a voice carried to him on the wind.

  “Why have you come here?”

  Serik sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether or not he’d dreamed the voice, so he didn’t answer.

  “Well?” The wind asked again. “What has brought you to my forest? What do you seek here?”

  “I only want a peaceful life,” Serik murmured. If this creature was his god’s sister, as he suspected, she’d be able to hear the faintest whisper within her borders.

  “And why can’t you find that anywhere else? Why have you come here?”

  Serik shook his head. “I can’t live where the land has no soul. Your brother watches over my people, and I sought out your watchful eye, so I can live in peace.”

  The wind sighed and shifted. “Who are those people following you?”

  “They’re my family’s enemies. I don’t know how they managed to stay out of sight over so many miles of open road.”

  “Very well. They will not be allowed to remain in my forest. There is a family in a village within my borders who will hire you to help with their children.”

  Serik’s head came up and he balked. “I’m no schoolmaster, madam. I am a warrior.”

  “I can see that. I have no need of warriors or their problems in this forest. You may help Agommi raise his sons, or you may leave my borders with the sunrise.”

  “Very well. I’ll do my best.” His shoulders sagged, though he couldn’t name what he’d hoped for.

  The wind fell silent, and Serik slept.

  When the sun rose the next morning, he climbed out of the tree and stretched. His shoulders slumped as he remembered the god’s words from the night before. He would have to find this family and try to become the children’s governor. Defeated, he trudged deeper into the forest.

  Perhaps, he thought, I can teach the children how to use a sword, in case they ever need to fight.

  The idea encouraged him, and he went forward with a spring in his step.

  Soft footsteps sounded on the velvet moss around him, and Serik spun, searching for his pursuers. The leaves of the underbrush swayed gently in the breeze, concealing any person or animal hiding nearby.

  He proceeded into the forest, but stopped behind a massive tree and waited, watching the path between leaves.

  Somewhere in the distance, an animal let out a haunting shriek. Serik had never heard anything like it, and his mouth went dry. He fought the urge to flee back the way he’d come, but he’d certainly run into his enemies if he tried.

  Instead, he drew himself up to his full height and searched for a tree with low branches he could climb. Fighting against his instincts, Serik pressed deeper into the forest, his ears straining for sounds of pursuit by enemy or beast.

  The ear-splitting shriek sounded again, closer, and Serik burst into a run. Branches scratched at his face and tore his clothes, but he ignored them, sprinting ever deeper into the thickening wood.

  He rounded a bend in the path and skidded to a halt. There, blocking the trail, were nearly a dozen enemy tribesmen, their clothes stained and dirty, beards tangled and flecked with bits of dirt and leaves.

  “Why?” Serik gasped, his lungs burning from the mad dash through the forest. He paused to catch his breath and tried again. “Why have you followed me this far?”

  “You didn’t think we’d just let you go after what you did to our brothers, did you?” The cleanest of the tribesmen stepped into the gap between his group and Serik. “You clearly set some sort of sorcery over your village before you left, or we would have gone after your mother and sister. Instead, we had no choice but to chase you down like the animal you are.”

  Serik shook his head, ready to deny any involvement in whatever was protecting his village but thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut.

  Another bone-chilling screech rent the air. Serik gasped at the nearness of the sound, and his enemies went pale.

  “Wh… What is that?” The man who had spoken for the mountain men asked.

  Unable to speak, Serik just shook his head. His heart hammered against his ribs. He turned slowly, searching between the leaves and branches for the animal that had made that noise. It had to be close.

  Something pounded against his back, knocking him to his knees on the packed dirt path. Serik cursed softly and leapt to his feet, spinning to face his enemy. In the instant he’d had his back to the tribesmen, they had closed the gap and surrounded Serik.

  He drew his belt knives and searched for an advantage. The front man – the one who had done the talking – drew his sword, the steel gleaming in the sun-dappled light.

  Serik bent his knees and jumped as high as he could, shooting himself up close enough to grab the lowest branch of the nearest tree. He pulled himself onto the branch and crouched there, watching his enemies gather
beneath his tree. They shouted in anger and pointed their weapons up at him, but Serik sheathed one knife and jumped to another branch, positioning himself behind the group, and dropped on top of the two men who had hidden behind the others.

  Heart pounding, he grabbed the closest man by the hair and jerked him backward, then froze, his numb fingers releasing their hold on the man.

  “Jamik? What are you doing here?” Shock and betrayal colored Serik’s words. “I thought we were on the same side. You were even courting my sister.”

  The dark-haired man just shook his head. “You killed my brother, Serik. How am I supposed to ignore that?”

  Confused, Serik shook his head again. “Your brother was with the men who attacked me? I had no idea.”

  A twig snapped, and Serik dodged left as a sword plunged into the space where he’d been standing an instant before.

  “That’s enough talk,” the group’s leader growled, swinging around for another thrust.

  This time, Serik spun toward his attacker and grabbed for the sword, throwing his weight into his enemy’s side. The move pushed the tribesman off balance, and when he flailed his arms to right himself, Serik took control of the weapon. He sheathed his second belt knife and used both hands to control the heavy sword.

  Another screech sounded, so close Serik could see the leaves tremble and feel the small animals withdraw, but he didn’t take his eyes off his foe. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. The stocky man held out a hand, and one of his comrades handed him another sword.

  Someone screamed, a breathtaking expression of pain and terror, and Serik’s legs wobbled beneath him. Still, his eyes remained locked on his enemy’s.

  “Who are you?” Serik asked, breathless. “I want to know who I’m fighting.”

  Instead of answering, the mountain man thrust his sword at Serik’s neck, but Serik dodged the blow, stepping lightly to one side.

  “I guess you should know the name of the man who ends your life,” the man sneered. “I’m Kinorn. You wounded my brother and my cousin, and because of you, neither will ever hunt again.”