Another harsh slap met Grundar's already split lip. Grundar laughed. The uproarious laughter started deep in his stomach and worked its way outward.
"This one's hopeless. Beat 'im, but don't kill 'im. The lady'll want to see 'im," the disgusted barbarian commanded.
Chapter Fifteen
Do you think you can explain that to Jaxius well enough?
"I think I got it," Bergar said aloud, accidentally.
"What's that?" Jaxius asked. "You have a plan?"
Well. I guess we will see, won't we?
"Actually. Yes." Bergar tried to mimic Tolian again. "If we can find the right mix of things from the witch's workroom we can create a diversion large enough to let us slip out and get Grundar. From there, hopefully, we can get to the woods. In the woods, we can fight the natives … um ... locals like we did … the ... ahh"
Alaviel. A-la-vee-el rangers.
"Alaviel rangers of..."
Abordal. A-bor-dahl.
"Abordal."
"That just might work. Once in the woods, their numbers could work against them. Now, if we can just find the right mix of the hag's magic powders. There may be one small problem with that plan, though. I believe your oversized barbarian pincushion knocked over her table."
"I thought of that. She had, at least, one bowl that I saw when I was ... um ... on the floor. It looked and smelled remarkably like a powder that I have worked with before. It flashes a bright white when mixed with fire. That could be the perfect distraction."
The two scrambled back up the stairs to find the necessary parts for Tolian's plan. They found, upon reaching the top of the stairs, that fortune was on their side. The bowl and powder that Bergar had described to Tolian were sitting right where he remembered it. Luckily, the witch had left everything as it was when she tried to flee. Bergar walked straight to the bowl and scooped it up, being especially careful not to spill any of the precious powder.
That's the stuff? And it really flared like that?
Yes, Bergar thought. It almost blinded me. And the heat was unbearable. How do we get it out through the window without spilling it all on the ground?
Well, we need to find a dry container. A pot or bottle of some sort. Dry on the inside.
Scanning the contents of the room, Bergar spied a suitable bottle.
Now, pour the powder in and stuff some cloth in the top. That will work nicely.
Bergar, as he did what Tolian's thoughts commanded, said to Jaxius, "There, that will work nicely. We just need to catch this bit of cloth on fire, and it should create quite the light show."
He handed the bottle to Jaxius. "You go ahead, Jaxius. I will destroy what's left so no one else tries to fiddle with dark magic."
The half-elf nodded, "Hurry. We don't want to keep Grundar waiting too long. He's a mighty warrior, but I doubt even he can manage to fight off so many." Jaxius left the tower room at a trot, taking the stairs two at a time.
Then the barbarian wearing the bard's skin walked to the crushed table and pushed the jumbled mess of broken bowls, jars, and bottles next to the hearth. As Bergar had guessed from watching the witch work, many of the liquids and powders would catch fire quickly. He heard behind him a sizzle as he dashed into the stairwell, ignoring the jarring in his ribs with every heavy step. He made it down to the window just in time to see Jaxius lob the now flaming bottle.
They both ducked behind the windowsill. Bergar heard the crash as the pottery bottle shattered on the ground, then the much louder explosion as the powder ignited a split second later. Hopefully, Jaxius threw it far enough away.
"You first," Bergar said. "I will drop his body down to you."
"Careful, though, we don't know how well the body will hold." With that, Jaxius slipped out the window and dropped, catching hold of his short-spear only for a fraction of a second on his way down. He landed and drove the tip of his viortassi into the ground. He glanced up just in time to catch Bergar's lifeless body in his cradled arms. His knees bending slightly under the weight, he slung the wrapped barbarian over a shoulder, grabbed his sword, and sprinted toward the now distracted group surrounding Grundar.
Bergar watched as Jaxius sprinted off with his body. That half-elf was surprisingly strong for his size, he thought. Here goes nothing. Bergar slipped his feet over the ledge. He could smell the burning concoction at the top of the stairs. At length, he let his weight drop. He, too, grabbed the spear on his way down. But unlike his companion, he did not let go. Too much weight, in too many odd directions, weakened the spear's hold on the mortar in the stone wall. The spear slipped, taking Tolian's body along. Bergar managed to steady himself quickly enough that when he hit the ground, his feet were in mid-stride.
Jaxius slipped into the circle of barbarians without being noticed. Grundar looked up just in time to see Jaxius unload Bergar's body onto his chest. Grundar hurriedly followed Jaxius to the other side of the circle. They reached the other side of the group at precisely the same time that the first of Fylzia's remaining lackeys realized the distraction for what it was.
"They're escaping!" he yelled.
Jaxius stopped cold and squared up, both hands on the viortassi handle.
The first of the barbarians leaped for Jaxius but never made it. He was caught mid-air by a shock wave of force. Bergar's final act of revenge against the witch was played out as the top floor of the tower exploded. The sudden ear-splitting sound was accompanied by a concussion strong enough to knock every man within the clearing to the ground.
Jaxius and Bergar were the first on their feet after the explosion, followed by Grundar. They dashed straight for the wood line, not daring to look back to see if anyone followed. Jaxius ducked low and grabbed his shield as he ran by its hiding spot, never missing a step.
Forty yards into the woods Jaxius slipped behind a tree and dropped to a crouch.
Bergar sped through the forest just behind Jaxius.
Now, you need to get to a different spot from Jaxius, further away.
I know the plan, Bergar thought. By the gods, my people may be rugged and enjoy a simple life, but we are far from stupid.
I know this. I am simply remindi... never mind. I am sorry.
Good, Bergar thought. He raced past Jaxius and slid behind his own large tree and waited.
Grundar, confused by everything that was going on, followed Jaxius into the forest. He barreled onward and would have passed Jaxius by had Jaxius not caught quickly him by the arm and pulled him down into the snow and brush.
Jaxius clamped a hand over Grundar's mouth to stifle any protest. The half-elf held a finger over his lips to indicate the need for silence. Grundar, veteran of many a battle, nodded.
The shouts of some of the tribesmen cut above the crackle of the tower's roaring blaze. Jaxius leaned around the back side of the tree and watched through the brush as about half of the men fanned out into the woods to search for them. The other half attended to the fire. Jaxius thought that whatever Tolian did to cause the explosion was genius.
"Cover yourself with the brush and stay down on the ground," Jaxius whispered in Grundar's ear. "Tolian and I will take care of this."
"But what of me boy?" Grundar asked the unnecessary question.
Jaxius frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder watching the tears fill the old Nordrasian's eyes. He set his jaw and nodded. "Honorably, standing like a man."
Grundar grumbled his acceptance and slid down under the brush. He pulled his son tight to him and held back the sobs that he knew would soon follow.
Jaxius moved back into the shadows of the brush and paused, letting his prey come to him.
The warrior thought the ruffians made a terrible racket as they crunched through the snow looking for him and his companions. As the lead barbarian passed Jaxius' hiding place, the half-elf tensed the muscles in his arms. The grip of his great blade felt solid and real, but now, he knew he had to make himself intangible. A ghost in the woods. His elven heritage gave him a heightened natural grace,
but he was a warrior, not a woodsman.
Just as the man passed his position, he sprang from the shrubbery and flew past the man at an almost impossible speed. He did not stop after passing the confused barbarian. He did not stop to see the man's body, cut in half by the razor-sharp blade, fall to the forest floor. Instead, he circled around, past where Tolian sat in wait for the remainder of the raiders.
The nearest man to Jaxius' first target yelped in fear and ran to his friend's body. He looked out through the forest to see the bushes shake and the tail end of a cloak. He jumped through the underbrush like a wolf on the hunt. He slipped past Tolian's tree and was knocked to the ground by the force of a spear impaling him from behind.
Good, now go deeper into the woods. About as far past Jaxius as he is from us now.
I get that, Bergar thought. But this feels an awful lot like running away.
We are outnumbered at least ten to one. Probably closer to fifteen of them for every one of us. Now, we stick to the plan, or everyone could end up dying. And for you, twice in one night? Really? I, for one, rather enjoy living.
Bergar was really starting to hate those types of comments. They hurt the most. He sprinted off through the woods, making sure to hit all the bushes and trees he could as he passed. Their plan was to run away a bit and make as much of a scene as they could. Bergar didn't like it at all.
More of the barbarians caught sight of them and followed. Jaxius remained hidden, letting the raiders rush by him. When he was sure that they had all gone past, he stood and whooped at them. Most of them turned toward his loud exclamations; the closest was only a few feet from Jaxius. This one Jaxius did not allow to see his face. He turned about just in time for the viortassi's thick curved blade to slice his head from his shoulders.
The horde rushed at him, and Jaxius set his feet, preparing himself for the battle. A familiar tingle behind his eyes caught his attention. He had that unshakeable feeling that someone was watching him. Good, he thought, I like a crowd. But the half-elf knew that feeling was no crowd cheering him on. In fact, Jaxius had no idea where the sensation came from, but it was the same as one he had felt before . . . in the tower. He just hadn't had time to think about it, then or since.
He realized, then, that his last foe's severed head had not yet touched the ground.
He leaped forward, feeling the raw power surge behind every swing. Jaxius cut down a barbarian with each of his strokes. Not a single one of them was able to strike at him even once. He reached the end of the line of men leading to Tolian and stopped. His chest heaved with each breath he took. His eyes glowed emerald again. His glowing green eyes shined out into the darkness of the night, bathing the ground in an eerie light. He could see the smallest of details on every leaf on every tree and bush within his expanded range of vision. He was used to seeing farther than humans at night, but this was more than he had ever experienced. Jaxius looked down and saw that he was not meeting the ground. His feet hovered inches from the bared ground where the snow had melted away. Green vines sprouted from the earth. A verdant patch of grass permeated the space between the vines. As the last blade of turf grew in, Jaxius lowered to the ground. His feet touched down upon the grass without bending a single shoot. Jaxius' world had changed this night. He was not sure why or how, but he was certain it had. He was determined to find the answers to those questions.
Bergar looked on in amazement as Jaxius flew past the string of Fylzia's lackeys. He saw them all fall as one when Jaxius raced past the last one. He watched, unable to move, as the snow melted and Jaxius sank to the patch of springtime. He stared into the warrior's glowing jade-like eyes and saw in them the wild chaos of life screaming to burst forth. What had Jaxius become?
What has he become indeed? I have known him for years and have never seen this. This is disturbingly new.
"Are you alright?" Jaxius asked. His breathing slowed, and his eyes faded. The grass and vines receded into the bald patch of dirt.
"Y... yes," Bergar responded in Tolian's voice.
Ask him what that was.
I will. Give me just a second.
"Um . . . what was that?"
"I don't know. I thought I might ask you if you have ever seen anything like it before," Jaxius asked Tolian, hope in his voice.
"No, I can't say that I have."
"Then we shall find out together. I think, if we hurry, we can get far enough away from here to rest safely this night. Come, friend. We have a very sorrow-stricken comrade to tend to, and it is a long walk back to the border camp."
Chapter Sixteen
Grundar's sobbing had given way to a somber emptiness in the four days since their escape from the tower. He didn't seem exactly sad to Bergar. Rather, he seemed absent of any emotion at all. He had no words to say to comfort his father. He had no words at all. He tried a hundred times to think of how to approach his father and tell him that he was still here. There were simply no words.
Just tell him. It will ease his grief.
"Not yet. You do not understand him like I do. He will not accept something like this. He is a proud man. I don't even think he has accepted that I'm gone yet," Bergar said to the voice in his head. "And here I am gathering wood for my own funeral pyre."
Life is troublesome, isn't it? You could hum or sing or something to pass the time. That is sort of my job. So, if you intend to be me for the rest of our awkward lives, you should probably act the part.
"I don't really know any songs."
None? Surely your people have music. I have heard at least a half-dozen bawdy ditties from men in your very clan.
"Well, there is one. It's an old favorite of mine. My father sang it while we worked together in the summer months." Bergar started singing the song. The beautiful tenor of his voice spun through the air, lifting his spirits and reminding him of home. He finished gathering and walked into camp, still singing.
"Wha? Where'd ye hear that song?" Grundar interrupted.
"Um . . . one of the men back in your camp was singing it," Bergar lied.
"Oh. I used t' sing it to me boy. ‘Tis an old workin' song. Special to me people. It tells the story o' the great Haloin, founder o' Werlgart. I'd hoped Bergar'd sing it t' me grandchildren one day." With that, the grieving clan chief turned his gaze to the bed of sticks and twigs that held Bergar's lifeless husk.
Grundar dropped the sticks he was carrying to wipe tears from his eyes. Not to seem weak, he bent low and rearranged them, placing them beside the pyre.
He loves you. Know that.
I know, Bergar thought. I wish that I had not failed him.
You didn't fail. You had no choice in the matter.
I did. I could have fought more, or better. I could have survived longer, somehow. Not given in to the pain.
There's no dishonor in losing your life the way you did.
Their conversation was interrupted when Jaxius laid a hand on his shoulder from behind. Bergar jumped at the unexpected gesture.
"It is time. I think you would best remember him," Jaxius said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Right."
Take your time. Do you know what to say?
For my own ceremony? No. Not at all, Bergar thought.
Just take it slow and repeat what I say. Go and stand beside Grundar. Clear your throat.
Bergar reluctantly did as he was told. The thought of delivering the eulogy at his own funeral felt wrong and vaguely satisfying at the same time.
Life
"Life,"
In all its wondrous brightness is fleeting.
"In all its wondrous brightness is fleeting."
And in this case, too short.
"In this case, too short."
Bergar was a good man. A noble man. A great son. A brave warrior.
"Bergar was a good man. A noble man. A great," Bergar choked on the words. "son.... A brave warrior."
He fought for what mattered to the end. And we shall miss him.
"He fought..."
"He fought for what mattered to the end. And we shall miss him." Tears streamed down his cheeks, matching those on his father's aging face.
This is Bergar no longer.
Please, Bergar pleaded. I... I don't think I can.
You must. If you don't your father will not think you are able to journey into the next world.
He slumped and said, "th... this is Bergar no longer."
He hunts forever in the Wildlands. May he hunt well.
"He hunts forever in the Wildlands. May he hunt well."
Jaxius handed Grundar the torch that he had prepared. Grundar thrust it into the pyre, his hands unsteady at the dreaded task. The dry wood smoked for a brief moment and then erupted into licking flames. Tears of regret wet the ground around the fire. The three sorrowful men stood watching the curls of their smoky lamentations rise into the wintry sky.
Chapter Seventeen
Almost two weeks had passed since Fylzia's demise and her evil tower's destruction. The group had made good progress in their journey home. Grundar still stared into the distance and followed along, more a hollow shell than a man. He ate little and spoke less. His grief had overcome him completely.
Jaxius had raised a questioning eyebrow when Tolian came to him to volunteer for hunting duties, but did not argue. And so, Bergar and Tolian had quite a bit of time for uninterrupted conversation while hunting for food. They decided that they must tell at least Jaxius before they got back to Bergar's clan. But the more pressing concern had become the changes that Jaxius had undergone during the last battle with Fylzia's raiders. Thus, they waited to catch Jaxius alone after the evening meal. The men normally huddled near the fire for warmth, so chances to find Jaxius apart were few. But one night close to the border, the camp needed more firewood. When Jaxius volunteered to get more, Tolian, at last, saw a chance to speak with the half-elf.
Flames of Awakening: Faemoch Cycle Book 1 Page 8