by Garry Spoor
They traveled for most of the day at a slow, easy pace, and even though Lord Bollen requested she ride in front with him, he said very little to her. Most of his conversations were with his personal guards and advisors. They were filled with discussions of politics and policies, none of which Kile could comprehend. It was all gibberish to her. She was beginning to think the valrik, with their guttural language, made more sense.
Captain Jax rode with a few of the more seasoned soldiers. They swapped war stories and laughed about the good old days. Erin and Folkstaff went on ahead to scout the area along with a few other Hunters. She asked to go with them, but Folkstaff wouldn’t allow it. He said, it was for her own safety, but she wondered if it had more to do with her state of mind. They were being careful around her, as if she would explode at any minute, and there were times she thought she might. Where they that scare of her? What did Captain Jax tell them?
It wasn’t until the evening, when the Hunters returned and directed the company to a clearing off the main road, did they finally stop and rest. Tents were set up, campfires were lit, food was being prepared and horses tended to. Everything moved with such precision, Kile didn’t know where she could fit in.
She wanted to help Daniel with the wounded, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t just because the nonays watched her carefully whenever she got close to one of their patients. What did they think she was going to do, run off with one of them when they weren’t looking? It was because of the Lasting. It followed the wounded, even out here in the wild. The smell of it was stifling. She couldn’t be around it for very long.
In the end, she ended up where she always ended up, with the horses. She didn’t mind. There were so many of them and they all had stories to share with her. She walked among them, talking with as many as she could. There were hundreds of horses with hundreds of names. Most of them couldn’t remember their real names, only the moniker the vir placed upon them. It was sad really. She often wondered what it would be like not to remember her name, and then she realized it had happened on more than one occasion. Whenever she tangled with the ever-present darkness, when it stole her mind and her identity, there were times when she had no idea who or what she was. There were times where she wanted to just sink into the darkness and forget about the war, the world and everything else around her. It would have been so easy, to truly be a part of something which accepted her for what she was.
The next day was pretty much the same as the last. The Hunter rode ahead to scout out the land, Jax rode with some of his old comrades, and Lord Bollen still didn’t take any notice of her. He was too busy carrying on the same conversation with his men as he had the day before, or at least, that’s what it sounded like to her. She still had no idea what they were discussing, and eventually tuned it out altogether. She thought about slowing Grim down and merging with the back of the line, maybe finding the last members of Perha Squad. At least they would acknowledge her existence. She was slowly moving Grim off to the side of the column, when the ravens came.
Their presence did not go unnoticed. The column came to a complete stop while the soldiers watched the birds circle. There were even murmurs of ill omens and bad tidings, until the birds landed. Two on Kile’s shoulders, one on Grim’s back, and another on his head, much to Vesper’s dismay. Bakara was the last. He landed on Kile’s hat, and looked down at her from over the brim. The silence was shattered by the roar of laughter. Even Lord Bollen and his close advisor joined in. Only those, who rode with Kile, who fought alongside her on the walls of Moran, held their breaths and waited. They did not laugh, because they understood the seriousness of the situation.
Kile closed her eyes, and fell into her Edge. Bakara showed her what she feared to see. The Valgar were coming. She couldn’t tell how many there were, they were cloaked in shadow, so deep, not even the Hunter who passed within ten feet of them, knew of their existence. They were moving silently through the fields, stalking their prey. Reaching out, she touched one of them and knew who they hunted.
When Kile opened her eyes the men around her, stopped laughing. She knew what they saw when they looked at her, since she was already letting her feral side take over.
“What is it?” Jax asked, riding up to her. He alone, had drawn his weapon.
“Saladogs,” she told him. Her voice was calm. “Coming in from the north, down out of the mountains, it’s an ambush.”
“Ridiculous.” One of the soldiers scoffed. “Are we to listen to this… freak?”
Kile turned to look at the man. He was twice her size, broad shouldered, squared chinned, a seasoned warrior, a veteran of the Callor forces. He flinched when she turned those eyes on him. She grinned.
“I don’t care who you listen to,” she said softly.
“Is this for real?” Lord Bollen asked.
Was that fear in the man’s voice?
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Yes, that was fear, and it was intoxicating.
“Get the wounded and civilians to Forthbar, keep to the road, do not stop,” she shouted as she drew her Lann and urging Grim forward. The four members of Perha Squad broke ranks and closed in behind her, followed closely by the twenty Callor hounds, Captain Jax, and the men of Moran.
The carriage drivers looked to Lord Bollen for confirmation, but they never received it. The horses, on the other hand, didn’t need any. They knew who to listen to. Twenty two carriages, carrying supplies, wounded and civilian, made for the open road.
Tullner quickly caught up with Kile, his weapon now drawn.
“Shouldn’t we send guards to protect the wounded?” he asked her.
“They’re not after the wounded,” she told him. “They are coming for Lord Bollen and they’re here.”
The shadow was already creeping out of the hills, like a wave of darkness, it covered the land, then broke upon them. Not even the sunlight could penetrate it. It was as if the night had come before its appointed time.
This was something unexpected, Kile thought, staring into the darkness. She was seeing some physical aspect of the Maligar, or at least some representation of it. It had always confined itself to the natural realm, and now it was leaking over into the mortal world. What did it mean? Was it getting stronger? Could everyone see it?
The Valgar shed their cloaks. There was no need for secrecy now. Only when Lord Bollen, and the Callor army, saw them, did they prepare for battle, but by then, it was too late. The two forces collided in the middle of the field. Kile push Grim forward with reckless abandonment, and when the pony went down, she threw herself into the fray. There was no thought or reasoning behind her actions. She simply lived for the chaos. She gave herself over to her feral side, because she knew, if she didn’t, she would have no chance surviving. She could feel the heat rising within her. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The smell of blood, and sounds of battle, were overwhelming. Shields shattered, swords broke, men screamed, wolves howled, and she was losing herself to the darkness. She could no longer remember who she was, where she was, or even why she wanted to live. She was fighting out of pure instinct, but it wasn’t enough. The darkness was offering peace, it was offering salvation, it was offering her a place she would be accepted. It reached out to her, and she embraced it.
The black tendrils wrapped themselves around her, and this time, she did not fight it. All she wanted was to sleep in the darkness. There was a familiarity within it, almost as if she was coming home. She wasn’t sure how long she remained cradled in the arms of the Maligar, it could have been hours, or days, or years, or mere seconds, but the sound of thunder shattered the darkness, and the rain began to fall.
Kile fell to her knees and stared up into the heavens and let the rain fall upon her face. It washed away the smell of blood, and cooled the burning in her soul. It drowned out the sounds of battle until all she could hear was the gentle sound of the falling rain around her. The smell of the forest, the grass, the touch of the earth, this was who she was. The darkness had receded, and the natura
l world reclaimed its own
-Sister?-
She opened her eyes and looked into the face of the wolf, who sat before her.
-We came when we heard you call.-
There was so much compassion in the wolf’s words, so much concern, so much love, she found herself crying. Blinking back the tears, she looked around. They surrounded her, the wolves and the Callor hound. Their presence was reassuring and it gave her strength.
“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging the wolf. “Thank you so much.”
Slowly, she staggered to her feet. She wasn’t injured, at least, not that she could tell. If she was, it wasn’t a physical injury she suffered. She was tired, so very tired, as if she had not slept in days.
The battle was over. It was quick, but it was costly. Men, horses, dogs, even the bodies of wolves lay among the Valgar. The rain was washing away the blood, but not quickly enough. This place would always be stained, she thought. She watched as the Callor soldier picked among the dead, seeking out the wounded. They thought little of the dogs and wolves, turning a blind eye to their suffering, even though, if it had not been for them, the count would have been higher. Only the men of Moran sought to aid the animals. They fought alongside the hounds, and understood their sacrifice.
Lord Bollen was still alive, in that alone, they succeeded. He was being tended to by his men, although, it didn’t look as if he was injured in any way. She looked at the soldiers who were still standing, looking for familiar faces. Tullner and Sandson were easy to pick out, since they were wearing the Fennel colors, but she couldn’t find Anurr or Lesh. Were they among the fallen?
The dogs and wolves parted when the mountain pony approached. He was limping.
“You’re hurt,” she said, coming to his side.
-It’s nothing.-
Grim replied.
She ran her hand over his wound and he winced. She had seen the horse run head first, through a barn door without breaking stride.
“I’m sorry, Grim.”
-There is nothing to be sorry about. I’m not dead yet.-
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and the pony rested his head on her shoulder. Vesper took the opportunity to slide down his nose and onto Kile’s head and she laughed.
“I didn’t forget about you,” she said, lifting the yarrow up. “Are you okay?”
-Hungry-
The yarrow replied.
-Please, Fur ball, when are you not?-
Grim asked.
Kile looked at the mountain pony.
“Can you understand him?” she asked.
-Only when you’re around. You make a pretty good interpreter.-
He replied, but his voice was a bit strained.
“We should probably see to that wound,” she told him.
-It’ll keep. What about you? You don’t look too worse for wear.-
“I’m just tired. I don’t think I can keep going on like this,” she told him.
-If you had listened to me, we would have been away from here a long time ago.-
He said, and then turned and slowly walked away. She followed him.
“Kile,” Tullner shouted upon seeing her. She made her way toward him.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I think so.” She replied. “What of the others. I saw Sandson, what of Anurr and Lesh?”
“Anurr will survive,” Tullner said, brushing the rain from his face. “But, I’m afraid we lost Private Lesh.”
Private Lesh. She didn’t even know his first name.
“I assume the wolves are yours,” Tullner said, drawing her attention back to the here and now.
“I’m sorry?”
“The wolves, they are yours, aren’t they?”
“No. I mean, they came because they heard me, but, they’re not mine.”
“Well, regardless of why they came, their arrival was timely.”
“Was it?” she asked. “To tell you the truth, I don’t remember anything.”
“Maybe you should go sit down, take it easy.”
“No, the wounded; we have to see to the wounded first.”
-Reinforcements, right on time, as usual.-
Grim said from behind her.
Kile turned to see riders coming up the road. She took a deep breath and sniffed the wind.
“Hunters,” she said. “Folkstaff, Erin, even Daniel’s with them. They must have intercepted the carriages.”
-Would they be the same Hunters who were supposed to make sure the coast was clear? - Grim asked.
“It’s not their fault, Grim. Not even Hunters could see this coming.”
“You did,” Tullner added.
Kile ignored him and started walking toward the riders, when Sandson called out to her. She turned and saw him kneeling beside a fallen soldier. He waved frantically to her, but she hesitated. She couldn’t see the face of the soldier from where she was standing, but something deep inside, told her she already knew who it was. She quickly looked around the field, looking for those familiar faces, or just that one. When she couldn’t find him, she ran to where Sandson waited.
Captain Bartholomew Jax laid motionless on the ground, his armor had been stripped away, exposing the wound to his side. She fell to the ground beside him and took his hand in hers. He opened his eyes and looked up at her.
“You’re all right,” he said in a weak voice.
“Yes, I’m all right, and so are you,” she told him.
He laughed. “You never were very good at lying,” he said. “From the first day I met you and you tried to feed me that story.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She could tell, by the squeezing of her hand, he was in pain. “What of Lord Bollen?”
“He lives. He does not appear to be hurt,” she told him.
“Good, then, at any rate, I did my job,” Jax laughed, although the laughter was weak and he started to cough.
“Take it easy, the healers are here, they’re going to help you.”
“I don’t think so, not this time,” he replied once he got his breath back. “If nothing else, it was one hell of a ride.”
“Don’t say that, you’ll be back on the walls of Moran in no time.”
“Yeah, sure. Look, I need for you to do me a favor,”
“Anything.”
“I need for you to deliver a message… to my wife.”
“You can deliver that yourself.”
“Please, you are a Hunter, aren’t you? Isn’t that what… Hunters are supposed to do?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s what Hunters do,” she replied.
“Then tell her… tell her I was coming home,” he said, gripping her hand tightly. “Tell her I love her.”
“I’ll tell her,” she promised, but he didn’t hear.
“Kile.”
Looking up, she saw Daniel running across the field toward her.
“Help him, please,” she pleaded.
Daniel knelt down beside Jax and placed his hands upon the soldier's chest. He fell into his Edge.
Kile could smell the magic building around them. It was strong, stronger than she remembered. Like the smell of the ocean, or at least what she thought the ocean should smell like. She could see the blue strands of light flowing from his fingers. They wound their way around Jax, growing in intensity until they eventually faded and disappeared altogether. She looked up at Daniel. He shook his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. You better go see what you can do for the others.” She told him as she gently brushed the hair from Jax’s face. “At least he doesn’t have to give his report now.”
“Will you be okay?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Go, get out of here. Go help the others.”
Daniel slowly got to his feet.
She looked up at him. “Danny, I really hate to ask this…”
“You want me to check up on the hounds and the wolves. Am I right?”
>
“If you could.”
“Of course, I was planning on it anyway.” He said with a hint of a smile.
Kile stayed beside Captain Jax until two men came to carry him away.
The darkness was coming and the shadows were closing in. Thunder rumbled overhead. The rain was falling in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see. Her fur was soaked and her feet were caked in mud. She was tired, too tired to keep going, but she had to keep running. She had to keep ahead of the darkness, keep ahead of the Maligar. The lightning flashed, and for one fleeting moment, she could see the great oak standing before her, but it was still too far away. The faster she ran, the farther she had to go, but this time she wasn’t alone. Her pack was with her, the wolves came in on both sides. There were two at first, then four, then eight, and then more than she could count. She couldn’t see them all through the rain, but she could feel them, and they gave her strength, they gave her courage. Thousands of them raced alongside her across the open field toward the tree where the maiden waited. She was pulling ahead of the darkness now. She could hear the woman shouting, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of the wind and the rain.
“I can’t hear you.” Kile screamed. “What are you saying?”
“Do not trust them,” her bother wolf said.
“Don’t trust who?”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” The wolf replied.
Kile opened her eyes. She was curled up with the dogs, sleeping just outside the campsite. It was still raining, but she didn’t care. The rain was refreshing in a way, almost cleansing, and she needed to be clean. She peered up over one of the hounds at a young soldier who stood just outside the circle of dogs. He didn’t dare get any closer. None of them did, not after what they saw.
“What is it?” she asked.
“They want you in the command tent, ma’am,” he said, nervously.
“Why?” she asked.
“I… I don’t really know, ma’am. I was just sent to fetch you.”