by Faith Naff
Orchid led them through the Savage Lands. For a while, everything seemed so similar it was disorientating. However, Sunrise and Zehlyr began seeing more humans, elves, and dwarves mingling amongst the trees. As soon as they reached the camp, Orchid began to shout joyfully, “Call for the Prophet, Sunrise is here!” The camp was whipped into a frenzy as people scurried all around. Many fixed their eyes on Sunrise, staring at him with both wonder and surprise.
In no time at all, Firefly emerged from a trio of humans gathered around her. Her mouth was wide open. One hand shielded her eyes as they scanned the crowd. She noticed him just as he looked up to see her. The smiles on their faces radiated like sunbeams. They raced towards each other, gleefully laughing like children. Sunrise lifted his hand to let her perch on his finger, but she instead thrust her arms around his wrist, hugging him tightly.
“Thank the Lady you’re safe,” she said softly.
“And you as well,” he replied. “I was so worried about what happened to you after the battle.”
She took a quick glance to the familiar human finally catching up. “Hello, Zehlyr.”
“Good to see you well, Firefly,” he said.
Firefly flapped her wings as she let her feet swing over his hand. Soon she was sitting comfortably between his thumb and index finger. “I’d heard reports your robes were found floating in the water near the Temple,” she said somberly. “I feared the worst.”
“I didn’t know what to think of your fate,” he responded. “I tried so hard to find you, but with the Temple looking for me…”
“Not just for you,” she said. “We’ve had our share of close calls before finally settling out here.”
Sunrise took another look around the camp. “Who is we anyway? What is all this exactly?”
Firefly giggled nervously. Her eyes moved away from him as she played with her hair. “Well, it’s quite a long story really.”
“I think we’re all fine with the short version,” Zehlyr chimed in.
“I don’t think there is a short version,” she responded. “What you see is something that’s honestly beyond what I’d ever imagined it to be. Most of these humans are from Faith-haven.”
“The Harmonious village?” Zehlyr asked.
Firefly nodded. “The demons destroyed it on their way to Tranquility. I happened upon them during my escape, fighting off a band of fleeing balisekts. I used my magic to save them and became their hero. When they found out I wasn’t from the Temple they…well…”
“I think I get it,” Sunrise said. “At least a little bit.”
She looked up at him, smiling again at the look of bewilderment on his face. When she was his student, he had always been so rigid and serious. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on, and this was obviously just another unknown piled atop the mound of uncertainty his life had become since the Balisekt War ended. “I promise, I’m more than eager to explain everything to you in greater detail, but there are more pressing matters at hand.”
“Like what?” Sunrise asked.
“Like how you found us in the first place,” Terrex said harshly. He’d been watching quietly from the crowd gathered around them. “And who else knows we’re here.”
“I’m afraid Terrex is right,” Firefly said. “Our safety depends on secrecy. Who else besides you to knows about our camp?”
Sunrise thought about Viyana and whatever had kept her from joining them on this journey. Her absence had turned into a blessing from the Lady. Had the Lady of Meadowgold been with them, things would have likely escalated to violence rapidly. Still, she didn’t know where Firefly’s camp was, which for the moment was good. “No one,” he said. “No one knows but us.”
Zehlyr’s eyebrows raised with a coming realization. “Well, there is also Sparrow.”
“Who is Sparrow?” Terrex demanded.
“I am,” answered a voice from above. All eyes turned towards the canopy as Sparrow slowly descended. She landed on Sunrise’s shoulder, gazing down into Firefly’s look of uncertainty.
“Where’d she come from?” Moriah asked from Terrex’s side.
“Have you been spying on us the whole time?!” Terrex said enraged.
Firefly hopped up to her feet, balancing on Sunrise’s index finger. “I promise you she was,” she said, glaring at Sparrow. “That’s what Rose Thorns do best.”
“You’ve heard of me then,” Sparrow said calmly.
“Every faerie knows who the captain of the assassin order is. What I don’t know is why you’re here.”
Sparrow relaxed her stance. Her training taught her to always stand fearless when facing down a potential enemy, and her reception so far had been far from welcoming. Still, she wasn’t here to defeat or intimidate. While she didn’t know who Firefly’s followers were, nor did she care, they were clearly looking out for her wellbeing. She’d never get to her without their approval. “I promise, my visit to your camp is to look out for your best interest.”
“How do you even know me?” Firefly asked.
Sparrow sighed. “I know your sister.”
“You have a sister?” Sunrise asked. “You never mentioned that before.”
Firefly quickly averted her eyes towards the ground. “I...I don’t have a sister. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Firefly, it’s okay,” Sparrow assured. “This isn’t as it seems. If we could speak privately I’d be happy to…”
“You think you’re going to get the Prophet alone?!” Orchid snapped. She stepped forward with her arms outstretched, causing Sparrow to leap into the air and reach behind her for the poisoned darts tied to her belt.
“Wait!” Sunrise shouted, causing both of them to halt. There was a long, silent pause as everyone waited to see if the coming skirmish had actually been averted. “Sparrow is with us and I promise she’s friendly to your cause.”
“Whatever that cause is,” Zehlyr added.
Sparrow and Orchid relaxed, thought their un-trusting eyes stayed locked on one another.
“As I was saying,” Sparrow added while shaking the tension out of her arms. “I have a message for Firefly from her sister.”
“I don’t like this,” one of the twins said.
“The Prophet isn’t going anywhere with you,” Terrex added.
“No, it’s fine,” Firefly said. “I’m willing to meet with the Thorn captain.”
“Are you sure?” Moriah questioned.
Firefly nodded. “I am. I’ll arrange a private audience with her.” She turned her attention to the familiar elven face she was still so relieved to see. It helped to ease the tension. “After I get a chance to catch up with Sunrise.”
Chapter 24
For as much as Oakleaf found Kortath infuriating, he was also intriguing. In her lifetime, she’d had very few dealings with centaurs who weren’t agents of the Temple, and those lived a very different life from the rest of their tribe. Most of what she knew of their culture came from rumors and stories. On the rare occasions she did interact with a centaur from Ironhoof, the wretchedness of the experience only served to validate those tales.
In many ways, Kortath was no different. The soldier was a thug, just like she would expect. He was brutish, insulting, and overall a bully. None of this came as a surprise. However, there was something about him she’d never considered before. Oakleaf always assumed, rather unfairly, that their brashness was coupled with a low level of intelligence. In her mind, physical strength was the last resort of those too dumb to think their way out of a problem.
Kortath was different. For all his flexing, for all his insults, he was actually very smart. He clearly understood Tri-leaf Law better than she would have anticipated and was astute to more in a conversation than just the spoken words. She’d hoped the day would never come where she’d find herself in battle with a centaur, but she never thought in a million years she’d be engaging in a battle of wits with one.
It was a long walk down the Tri-leaf Safe Road to Ironhoof
, giving the elven priestess plenty of time to think about her current situation. All of her journeys gave her many hours to ponder on this or that, but analyzing Kortath gave her mind a break from the constant cycle of anger and revenge plotting she’d been unable to break free of. It was clear how he’d acquired his seat of power; all centaurs gained influence through fighting, but Kortath had a level of cunning to him that matched his brawn.
Dawn was upon them when they finally reached Ironhoof. The city was massive, with huts of straw and sticks stretching on through the trees in all directions. Flat, smooth stones were pressed into the ground, creating a web of small roads. Even in the early morning hours, these streets were alive with activity. Hooves clopped loudly against the hard surfaces as Ironhoof’s citizenry went about its daily routine. Many had heavy bundles draped over their horse-like backs. Centaurs were a species of amazing strength. Though very few of their kind revered the Lady, history told that those who did were invaluable in the building of the Temple.
Business as usual seemed to stop when Kortath entered the city. All around him, many centaurs lowered their front legs and bowed their heads. Upon closer inspection, Oakleaf could see it was only the women making such a gesture. The men carried on as if nothing had changed. Only when he had passed did they rise again and continue with their normal routine.
“Why have you returned, Kortath?” a man asked him as he stepped onto the road. Oakleaf quickly observed how broad he looked. “Your patrol wasn’t to change until…” His sentence trailed off when he noticed Oakleaf and those in her company. “What are all these creatures doing here?”
“Found them out on the road last night,” Kortath answered.
The broad centaur lifted his head. Oakleaf could see his eyes scanning the faces of all the acolytes behind her. The small smile he gave meant they likely looked frightened and unsure, just as she expected they did. “What’s a bunch of Lady worshippers doing in our forest?” he asked to no one in particular.
In that moment, she wished the Lady could grant her the ability to communicate to her acolytes without speaking. They weren’t prisoners. She, or anyone else, could simply turn around and walk away without incident. This was what made Kortath’s tactics so brilliant. He kept her acolytes prisoner using their own fear. No shackles were placed on their wrists, yet they marched along as though dragged by chains. It was the tone of his voice and placement of his guards that gave the impression they were held captive. It was all a cleverly arranged illusion, set up just enough to let those frightened by it fill in the rest with their own imaginations.
Of course, Kortath knew Oakleaf wasn’t fooled, but she didn’t have to be. She was the leader, but she was only one clear head in crowd of frightened people. Even though she knew better, she was a slave to the collective fear of her group.
Kortath’s left hand came down hard on Oakleaf’s back, forcing her to take two steps forward. “This one needs to speak with Merku right away,” he said. His action was forceful, but non-violent. Once again, the centaurian soldier walked the fine line of the law perfectly.
“Does she now?” the broad centaur said. “Why is that?”
“Because she knows about the leaf-ear who shot him.”
Oakleaf held her breath. This was quite an unexpected turn. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she was starting to understand why she’d been led here. It seems they’d had a run in with an elf recently, likely out in the Wilds. Could it have been Sunrise?
“Follow me,” the broad centaur said. “I’ll take you to him.”
“Might those in my company find somewhere comfortable to rest?” Oakleaf asked. Both men glared down at her, but she showed no fear. “Certainly you don’t need all of us to accompany you through the city. Since I’m being of some help, I don’t think a little hospitality for my fellow travelers is unreasonable.”
Kortath groaned low, causing Oakleaf to laugh a bit under her breath. Two could play his game. He couldn’t imprison or even hinder her people, but his whole act required them to think that he had. No matter how he answered her question, he’d have to reveal that they still had their freedom. With a roll of his eyes, Kortath turned to one of his soldiers. “Find the Temple riffraff somewhere to wait and rest...outside the city.” With a nod, the soldier led the acolytes down the road.
Oakleaf breathed a sigh of relief, the same relief she saw in the faces of her acolytes as they passed. Now she knew they would be safe and wouldn’t do anything foolish in her absence. As she watched the last acolyte wander down the road, Kortath moved in front of her. She looked up at him. The stern glare on his face only caused her cocky smile to get bigger. “Tranquility is grateful to Ironhoof for its hospitality.” She left just enough sarcasm in her tone to make the words sting.
“Now see it well earned,” Kortath snapped. “Follow me.”
Two guards stood on either side of Oakleaf while Kortath led the way. Surrounded by soldiers, she was led through the huts of straw and sticks. Ironhoof was brightening as the sun’s rays finally started to pierce the thick, summer canopy. She had no prior knowledge of how the village was laid out, and was quickly becoming disorientated. With each corner turned and narrow ally taken, it became more obvious that Kortath had planned it that way. It wasn’t a bad plan, and certainly one she hadn’t anticipated. The more lost she was, the more reliant she’d be on the centaurs for help getting home.
Kortath knew many different ways to trap his prey.
At last, Kortath stopped in front of what seemed to be his destination. To Oakleaf, it looked no different than the rest of the huts. The entrance was covered by a white-spotted deer skin. The flicker of candlelight could be seen around it. Kortath turned to face her. “Go inside,” he demanded.
“It’s just us now,” Oakleaf said with an exasperated sigh. “The boasting and bluffing are no longer necessary. I’m no prisoner here and may do as I freely choose.”
“Trust me, you’ll want to talk to the man inside,” Kortath assured. He pulled up the skin, gesturing with his free hand in a sarcastic display of manners.
Oakleaf walked casually past him, though her heart was pounding. Ever since Kortath’s soldiers crossed her path, she’d been pretending to be calm. Her battle of wits with the centaurian captain grew more mentally exhausting with each passing hour, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hide her genuine terror. Sure, she knew she was acting within the law. She knew killing her would have drastic consequences for the centaur tribe. But none of that wouldn’t change the fact she’d be dead.
Kortath pushed through the door alongside her. Like the others in the city, the hut was quite large. From the outside, centaurian construction looked quite similar to the way elves built their homes in Moon-hollow, just on an impossibly larger scale. It was only when the structure was entered that the differences could be noticed. With longer walls, centaurs employed the use of wooden beams to support their roofs. These beams were made from cut timber, a practice outlawed in elven civilization. The roof was low, just within reach of a standing centaur. Given the species’ inability to climb, it wasn’t a surprising building technique.
There was a long, fur rug laid out in the back corner of the hut. Sitting on the rug was a large, male centaur. He had long black hair with a full beard to match. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his back left leg. A female trotted over to him from the other side of the hut with a clay mug of steaming liquid. She brought the mug to him just as Kortath and Oakleaf reached the middle of the hut.
“What do you want, Kortath?” the black haired centaur asked. His eyes moved downward, locking gazes with Oakleaf. “Why have you brought a leaf-ear into my home?”
Oakleaf was surprised how numb she was already getting to the constant barrage of racial slurs.
Kortath nudged Oakleaf’s shoulder. The motion nearly knocked her off balance. She didn’t know if he meant it that way or if he really didn’t know his own strength, but it was of little consequence either way. “Tell
him about your fugitive,” he said.
Oakleaf tried to figure out what was going on based on what she could see. Even with the bandages covering his wound, she knew the signs of an arrow wound. This centaur had been shot from behind by someone skilled with a bow. A knot formed in her stomach as she realized her notion of the fugitives being in centaurian lands might not have been as crazy as she thought. “I’m assuming you mean the elf; unless, you’re convinced a faerie shot your friend here.”
“Why you puny...argh!” The black haired centaur tried to stand, but pain from his wound forced him to return to the ground. The female put a hand on his shoulder in a display of care and concern, but he angrily swatted it away.
“Patience, Merku,” Kortath insisted. “Your strength will recover in time.”
“And when it does, I shall see that blighted leaf-ear’s head upon a pike!” Merku yelled.
“Might this elf have been a young man with brown skin and short, blond hair?” Oakleaf asked.
“You know him?!” Merku bellowed. His face was growing red with anger.
“He is wanted by Tranquility for crimes against the Temple. We are out hunting for him and his faerie companion.” Oakleaf turned towards Kortath. “I told you my visit would be of benefit.”
“Do not think yourself our savior just yet,” Kortath insisted. “All we know now is we hunt the same enemy. Merku, what happened after the attack?”
“Achelle followed his trail. Found remnants of a fresh campsite and footprints heading north along the border.”
Oakleaf had to admire Sunrise’s intellect. Camping along the centaur, elf border was a brilliant hiding place. Had she been allowed to lead the investigation from the beginning, she would likely have considered it long before his run in with these brutes.