by Thomas Rath
He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get the people to move any quicker until the enemy nipped at their heels. It was his hope that by that time they would be close enough to the keep for the desperate run that would be sure to ensue. A small detachment of men were dispatched to lead the refugees into the keep, while Wess and his command from Hell’s End Station had been sent ahead to warn the city that rested in the keep’s shadow to retreat into the mountain fortress. The remaining soldiers, who weren’t protecting the discarded wealth, followed Jack to the rear to return in search of Ranse’s party to assist with the hit and run tactic to help the Calandrians reach safety.
Jack bit his lip as they pressed their horses into a slow gallop. They needed more time.
* * *
Brak smiled at the chaos that ensued once word had been shouted throughout the streets that all people were to gather as much food and weapons as could be carried and remove to Bedler’s Keep. A drop of spittle escaped his mouth and dripped down his chin as he barely restrained himself from dancing about with anticipation. “He’ll be comin’ back nows, I jes knows it,” he hissed, lifting his first to the skies. “And I’lls be here awaitin’ to git ‘im for yous Zel,” he said and then punched a fat man waddling past with an arm full of potatoes, dropping him and his load into the ally. Shoving as many of the potatoes as he could into his pockets, he left the man unconscious as he turned toward the main street and pushed his way toward the front of the line wending its way toward the keep’s main entrance.
* * *
Myles moved his company slowly toward the enemy lines. Looking to either side his eyes pierced the trees that cradled the road but he was unable to discover any movement. They were close; he could smell them as much as feel their feet pounding into the dirt. The horses seemed restless feeling the nervous excitement that gripped the men just before battle. But their purpose was not to engage the enemy directly—at least not yet. Raising his arm he signaled for a halt. They remained silent, waiting; only the occasional jingle of the bridle or a horse’s restless stamp making any sound.
Around a slight bend in the road, not a hundred yards in the distance, the first line of the enemy suddenly appeared, wavering for a brief moment as their eyes locked on Myles and his men. Ignoring any sense of caution, the enemy’s front lines broke from the rest and charged headlong toward the defenders. Myles and his men remained motionless, not even moving to draw swords.
Rushing forward, they got within fifty yards of their prey when a sudden rush of arrows cut them down from either side of the road. Angered and salivating for blood and revenge, others raced forward followed by even more as word passed down the column sending goblin, orc and troll running pell-mell toward Myles and his men. Coming around the bend as they were, most had not seen the ambush that had befallen their comrades and another volley cut down a good fifty of their number, piling up their corpses in the road.
The enemy swarmed into the trees in search of those responsible but was further enraged to find the woods were empty. Turning back to Myles and his men, they rushed forward. Waiting until they were almost upon them, Myles finally gave the signal and he and his men retreated back up the road at a fierce gallop, chased almost at their heals by a group of trolls, their long stride pulling them ahead of the group. They were easy targets for the men who had set up for another ambush and cut them down quickly with another flight of arrows.
Now they were out of the trees. Myles and his men passed through onto a large meadow area and were quickly followed by Jack and Ranse leading their own men out of the woods from either side of the road. Quickly forming a line, they all drew their swords and waited for the enemy to catch up. The men were anxious. Finally, the chance to meet them head on instead of hiding behind a branch.
They didn’t have to wait long as the road released a flood of combatants rushing out of the trees and coming down the road howling in a frenzy with the scent of blood fresh and their quarry no longer protected. Jack quickly raised his sword and then cried out for the men to charge.
Breaking through the front line, the men cut down their opponents with ease and precision as they slowed to take on the second row. The clash of steel and the cries of the dying quickly erupted as blood soaked the ground. In the first moments, the soldiers held sway slashing and hacking to the left and the right, but where one went down, two took his place and the tide of battle was at the verge of turning. Calling out to those around him, Jack sounded the retreat as more of the enemy rushed forward anxious to join the fight. As previously decided, all turned and raced back angling their withdrawal in a northwesterly direction in an attempt to pull the enemy after them and away from the road.
A soldier next to Jack went down and was immediately trampled and crushed as the enemy pressed after them. Jack cut the arm from an assailant reaching to pull back on his bridle with his horse kicked in the skull of a goblin grabbing at its flank. Though able to extract themselves, it slow them just enough to leave Jack open to a massive rock troll’s deadly swing. Spittle flew from the trolls mouth as he brought his club to bear, swinging with full force for Jack’s turned head.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thane’s eyes flickered open as his nose took in the scents of sweet grass and budding flowers. Stretching lazily, he suddenly became somewhat alarmed at what he felt; or more precisely what he didn’t feel. All the fatigue, all the aches and pains, all of the cuts, bruises and injuries, both superficial and those somewhat more serious, were gone. Quickly checking the place where the vined creature had stabbed him and where Dor’s knife had cut out the poison, he found healthy skin without the slightest discoloration or blemish. The innumerable other cuts he’d received from the insect-like beings were the same. He felt more whole and rested than he could remember ever having felt before.
Looking around, he found his companions stirring as well, their looks of astonished relief revealing the same sensations and healing he was feeling. “How is it possible?” Tam asked.
She followed Thane’s gaze as it turned to the five sentinels that stood over them in silent majesty. He tried to remember what had happened to him after his first encounter with the sacred trees but all that came to mind was the floating sensation he’d felt and then waking moments ago. How long had they been out, he wondered. His stomach did not ache with hunger so he felt that it could not have been too long, but with the wounds he’d had now fully healed, the actual time was probably much longer than he’d wanted to originally stay. Scanning the Underwoods forest that made an almost perfect circular perimeter around the meadow, he could see the Kybara lounging lazily just inside the ring with more still lounging beyond.
“How long have we been out?” Dor asked through a yawn.
“I don’t know,” Thane said, “but it would seem too long.”
Dor was checking his own wounds that were no longer visible and only nodded his agreement.
“Do either of you feel different?” Tam asked, looking at her hands and arms. “I mean, other than healed and rested.”
Dor nodded his head quickly. “Yes. It’s like I feel more whole than I ever have. More…”
“Complete,” Tam said with him, then added, “more alive.”
“Yes,” Thane agreed. “It’s like all things are at my bidding.”
Domis looked at each of them in turn, his eyes growing larger with each passing moment before finally resting his stare on Dor. “You’re glimmering, Master Dor,” he breathed.
“What?”
All eyes turned to Dor as mouths open. “He is,” Tam breathed.
“And you have a misty aura about you,” Dor said.
They then turned to Thane. “It’s amazing,” Tam said.
“What?” Thane asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He could see the patterns that seemed to dance around his two friends noticing that each was as different as the person they were attached to.
“You’re glowing,” Domis said, reaching a hand toward him and then pulling it back.
“It’s like the sun itself is burning within you,” Tam added.
“What about me?” Domis asked hopefully but was immediately disappointed when he could see by their looks that he was just himself. “What is it?” he asked, trying unsuccessfully to mask the frustration he felt.
“It’s our Tane,” Dor said, suddenly realizing that he recognized them in his friends. “We can see each others Tane.”
Thane and Tam nodded their agreement. Of course that’s what it was. Each suddenly became quite aware of the Tane that sang to them, running through their veins in a torrent, whispering to them, begging them to release its power and use their abilities. It spoke to them, revealing its secrets that none of them could ever imagine. It was like stepping out of the dark and into the light. They understood. Thane wiped at a tear that rolled down his cheek. It seemed so clear and simple now.
“We need to go,” Domis suddenly said, breaking the spell that seemed to fall over the three Chufa.
They turned and stared at him for a moment as if not understanding what he was saying. “We have to go,” he repeated. “We have to get the arrows and go. They’ll be waiting for us.”
Dor and Tam blinked and then looked at each other. He was right, but none of them wanted to ever leave this grove again.
Thane finally spoke, his words drawing them all out. “He’s right. Domis is right. If we don’t leave now, we may never leave. We are meant for this place but we can tarry no longer.”
Dor and Tam nodded in reluctant agreement though their faces revealed the inner sadness that gripped at their hearts.
Thane opened himself to the song of the YeiyeiloBaneesh and was instantly one with the center tree.
“Grandfather,” what was once Thane spoke to the tree. “We have great need of you.”
“I know your need child,” it answered, “but we also have need of you.”
Their minds and spirits having congealed, as it were, into one entity, what was Thane instantly understood his responsibility as descendant of the great tree shepherds of old. And he would fulfill his duty but need pressed him to be away immediately though his heart desired to stay in the small grove forever. He felt more alive than he had ever felt before as his Tane called to him, enveloped him, and spoke promises of all that he could do should he but ask it.
“I know my duty and will fulfill it to the least part…” he said.
“But for now,” the tree finished for him, “you must be away so that the victory of your return may be more than just a passing season. We will give you what you need, though only three are of a maturity to do so and I have already done so in the days of yore and cannot again.”
They understood. Thane felt himself retracting, clumsily finding his way back to his body, though it was heartrending and almost painful to do so. His friends stared in wonder as his eyes blinked finding his body once again though feeling it a clumsy instrument compared to what he’d felt when part of the tree.
“They will help us,” he explained, though Tam and Dor seemed to sense that on their own.
“But how will you get the arrows?” Domis asked.
Almost instantly he was answered as the trees position to the north, west and east suddenly moved their branches in a swaying motion, back and forth as if a great wind had come up, though the grandfather and the youngest tree to the south remained untouched. They watched in wonder as the limbs continue to move and sway, increasing their tempo back and forth and back and forth until reaching a crescendo. It was then that their limbs ceased to move and all at once they seemed to lean back bending at the place where the trunk transitioned from bare word to where their many limbs began. With a grown, the bark around the spot began to pull back as if cut by a sharp ax revealing the soft inner wood that was bright white in color. It too began to peal away, layer after layer until finally reaching each tree’s heart. The hearts shimmered, vibrating with the song that filled the meadow, vibrating with the Tane that coursed through each Chufa.
They watched in awe, mouths agape, tears flowing like a river down their cheeks. It was like watching a birth as the mother writhes in the pain that will bring about such joy; an opposition of life that bespeaks all things in the world. A loud crack resounded from each of the three trees as their hearts were suddenly snapped from them followed by a profuse excretion of clear liquid as if blood flowing from their wounds. The hearts were then pushed forward through each of the tree’s layers as they began to reattach themselves behind it until they reached the outer bark which closed after them, making the trees whole once again while holding secure the thin shaft of inner wood.
Hesitantly at first, Thane drew near to the closest tree, his hand raising, slowing to touch the gift that had been so painfully offered. It felt warm to the touch, just like the arrow that DaxSagn still held in his quiver. No longer could he feel anger toward his once mentor as his selfish disregard for what was happening had ultimately led him here. Gently pulling on the shaft, it freed itself from the bark and seemed to pulse in his hand. It was alive. Now he understood. The grandfather’s heart was what Dax held onto. And now he would have the hearts of three others. Though he couldn’t imagine that they could be destroyed, he also understood that to do so would also kill the tree to which they belonged.
Gathering the other two, he reverently bowed to the trees and then retreated back to his friends giving one to Dor and one to Tam. Dor smiled at the gift, running an appreciating hand along the shaft before staring down its length and snickering joyfully; perfectly straight.
Tam, on the other hand, hesitated, staring at Thane as if surprised that he would offer one to her. Instinctively, she understood the same thing about the heart that Thane had deduced and now she was not so certain she felt worthy to have one. She went so far as to open her mouth in protest but Thane hushed her.
“You are as equal a shooter as both Dor and I, possibly even better. We need your skill if we are to come off victors against the dragons.”
Closing her mouth with a snap, she almost shone with Thane’s compliment at her shooting skill, a wellspring of pride suddenly bubbling up with the realization that she was to be part of what could turn the war to their favor. But just as suddenly, the icy tendrils of doubt reached up and gripped her, stealing her breath as she took the shaft into her hands. All of her life she had wanted the opportunity to do something worthwhile, something that mattered, something that went beyond what her people saw as the proper place for a Chufa woman. Now that her dreams were about to be realized, she found herself hesitating. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she failed at the poignant moment when the lives of so many were dependant upon her ability to shoot true? What if Thane’s compliments were mere words to force her in this direction out of need alone?
She stared at him while feeling the arrow’s pulse that was now hers to guard and to use. In him she saw no doubt or falsehood as he held her gaze with his bright green eyes. It seemed to strengthen her resolve as she felt new life and added confidence suddenly chasing back the cold feelings of doubt. Smiling, she nodded once and then embraced her lifelong friend. She would do it. And when the hour came for her to perform her duty, she would not fail them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The troll brought his club down, Jack unaware of his impending doom as the full force of the troll’s fury and bloodlust brought the weapon to bear toward the back of his head. A flash of white was all the troll saw before he felt himself suddenly flung backward, his club falling impotently to the ground as dragger-like teeth sank into his neck and tore out his throat cutting off his dying scream. Continuing with his forward motion, Erl’s massive body collided with another troll, knocking it to the ground were it was trampled to death by its own before he again launched into the air, his claws raking off a goblin’s face. Landing lightly and free of the pressing onslaught, Erl raced headlong after Jack who was none the wiser to his near demise.
The body of men regrouped quickly. Their small numbers, compared to th
e horde that poured from the tree cover like a disrupted ant hill, beckoned them on promising the thrill of the kill and fresh meat for the cook fires. Jack checked the skies, willing them to be clear, knowing that should the dragons come they were lost. Raising a hand, he signaled the archers to the ready. Arrows were nocked and pulled to cheekbones waiting for the sign to fire. On the enemy rushed, tripping over themselves to be the first to taste the warm blood that called to them as it sat ready in the open.
Jack dropped his hand and a hailstorm of arrows took flight shadowing their foe with the promise of death. The front line faltered as skin was pierced and muscles were torn dropping them in a heap to be trampled by those that followed. The few not struck by a killing blow were overtaken and crushed in the press of those that came in their wake as they cried out for help. Again Jack motioned his band farther away from the road drawing Zadok’s horde after them. It was working, and new hope filled them that Calandra’s refugees might actually make it into the keep after all.
Bringing his men to a halt, Jack prepared them for another volley but froze in mid command, his face turning dark, his hope snuffed out. Erl growled, his hackles rising. “Draw swords!” he yelled. “Prepare to charge!”
Rushing out of the crowd of howling orcs and trolls, a large group of wolg riding goblins broke away from the throng and chased down the gap separating them. Somewhat disorganized at first, they coalesced into a rough line as they sped forward their swords drawn and faces fierce with rage. There was not time to send out a volley of arrows and then mount a charge. To be struck with the full force of the enemy’s advance while standing still would be devastating. At the least they must meet them stride for stride.
Steel rang as it was drawn from scabbards and then heels were planted into horses flanks sending the men racing forward to meet the charge. Zadok’s army continued to give chase, hoping to reach the fighting in time to get a taste of it. Jack knew they would have to be quick or risk ultimately being surrounded.