The Kingdom of Tamarack (Book One in The Tamarack Series)

by Ross Turner

  Isabel stayed with her the longest; ensuring the bond Depozi had attempted to create was broken. He had tried to turn Ayva against her companions, to drive them apart and even, if he could, to kill Isabel. But he had failed. Isabel had denied him and saved her friend.

  Eventually though, Isabel too retreated from the tent and joined the others eating a much needed hot breakfast. Ayva remained for some time, knowing that very soon they would move. Isabel brought her food, but try as she may, she could not stomach it.

  She wept some knowing that she had been used. She had tried to hurt Isabel; worse, she had tried to kill her. The thought pained her, tore at her, but there was another that plagued her even more - that if he returned, if she saw him again, she wouldn’t be able to resist him. Isabel had denied him everything. Ayva somehow doubted she could muster that strength. His hold over her had been so strong, so boundless. Perhaps he had left a lasting mark after all.

  It seemed that Isabel was infinitely stronger than she’d first thought.

  With the tents quickly disassembled and the horses tended to the troops donned their armour and weapons and were very soon ready to march. Isabel and Zanriath wore the fresh clothes they’d been given and the light armour, made from study but flexible leather, on top. Ayva’s dress remained the same and the boys settled for the lightest, most manoeuvrable armour they could lay their hands on, not wanting to hinder their speed. It consisted of hundreds of small metal plates, all overlapping each other, allowing for excellent movement and strength combined. They looked every bit warriors.

  They all settled for their light breastplates and greaves, avoiding full body armour as, though it offered good protection, it was a hindrance at best.

  Ben and Zhack were armed with their fresh array of weaponry that had been courtesy of Heldvik, and Ayva kept her two swords and bow. Isabel fumbled for some time with her new, more bulky attire and the awkward bow she had strapped to her back, though she had to admit she felt a little more comfortable with a weapon so close to hand. Zanriath had been reluctant at first but had eventually surrendered to Heldvik’s pleads and had a stout sword belted at his waist.

  The supply wagons began trundling slowly north as the march headed underway once more, maintaining the same speed and formations as they had done previously. Isabel didn’t want them to alert the boy of any change, though he had probably guessed by now what their plan was likely to be. Their options were after all quite limited.

  Though their situation was grave and she was still angry with Depozi’s foul play, Isabel couldn’t help but smile as they set off in the fresh morning light. For some reason she was beginning to grow quite fond of the sudden change of lifestyle she’d undergone, and found their constant travel and exploration to be delightfully refreshing.

  They walked with Heldvik at the front of his men. They were tense at first, constantly scanning the horizon, but after several hours they’d seen nothing and the day was still young. Trying to reassure them, Isabel searched for any hint of demons beyond the horizon, and they all knew she would feel them before they could see them. They kept walking north along Hinaktor’s narrowest stretch of land, following the Great Road still, slowly approaching the border dividing the north and the south.

  Isabel had reported to them the boy’s rapid mobilisation and everyone was a little edgy, though she assured them that it would still be some time before they reached each other - though the tension of the battle so imminent was impossible to shake.

  “So young Master Zanriath…” Heldvik began as the fresh morning air began to lift and the day settled. The sky was still, a clear ocean of light blue surf with the sun floating amidst it, warm against their skin, very warm indeed on those in full suit. “How is it that you came to be a disciple of Ormath Himself?” Zanriath smiled and considered the question for a moment, aware that the others were just as curious. The troops walking close enough to hear had their open ears trained intently on the conversation.

  “I lived with my parents until I was seven.” He began. “My father was a blacksmith and my mother a mid-wife. They were good people. We lived in Akten, just south of Sorcerer’s Border; it’s Rilako’s biggest settlement, built on the River Avrik. Sorcerer’s Border is an invisible limit on the weather from Inferno Range that our elders set it in place many years ago. It stops the snowstorms coming too far south.”

  “Are they that bad?” Heldvik asked, a little surprised.

  “Worse.” Zanriath replied with a smile. “For as long as I can remember Ormath spoke to me - though I didn’t always know who He was; for almost half a decade He was just ‘the voice in my head’. It began in my dreams, but after a while I started to hear it while I was awake. The voice told me that I had been given a very important task, and that until the time came for me to begin my task, I was to look to the mountains each and every day.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, his memory of the mountains clearly vivid in his mind.

  For some reason Isabel found herself imagining what they must look like and began to trace their detail in her imagination.

  “I was very young and naturally, as I looked to the mountains, I yearned more and more to one day cross the border. I found myself everyday drawn to them. They were beautiful. My parents began to worry after a while. Sometimes I would sit there for hours, just staring, imagining what it would be like to go there.”

  “What did your mother and father do?” Heldvik interrupted. “Surely they wouldn’t have just let you leave? It would have been far too dangerous surely?”

  “No. They wouldn’t have.” Zanriath said quietly, emotion hanging heavily on his words. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why Ormath chose me, but then, He wouldn’t have known. He was probably instructed to choose me, the same way we’re being instructed. It’s a complicated thing.” He sighed deeply before continuing.

  Isabel suddenly realised she knew exactly what had happened. How had she not guessed this before? Then she thought of what Ayva had told them, and the twins, and she thought of her own family. Was that how they had all been chosen? Because when tragedy strikes, what else is there to hold on to if not a greater purpose? Or worse, had their families been murdered because they’d been chosen? A lump caught in her throat, but strangely, in that briefest moment, a glimmer of understanding deepened her knowledge of their importance for the fate of Tamarack.

  “There was a terrible accident.” Zanriath continued. “We were at home. I was upstairs alone, sitting at a window, looking out at the mountains.” He smiled briefly before his face turned sombre again. “I didn’t even notice the smoke, and almost before I knew it the room was black. I heard my parents shouting for me. I panicked and started choking. I thought about jumping out of the window, but it was too high. Lots of the buildings in Rilako have tall stone towers built into them. It’s a custom. I couldn’t see anything. I thought I was going to die.”

  “How did you get out? Did your parents find you?” Heldvik asked the question with a lump in his throat also, already knowing the outcome, but nonetheless hoping he was wrong.

  “No. Ormath spoke to me. I held my breath before the smoke got too thick and had my eyes closed - He told me which way to go through the smoke so I wouldn’t get caught. I’ve been told that sometimes people try to hold their breath, but they can’t see, so they usually can’t find their way out. My parents weren’t shouting any more. I was scared. I could hear the fire. I felt it against my skin, but Ormath told me to keep going. I’m sure even to this day that I walked right through it. But then I suppose that was about the only control He had over the accident. He just knew He had to get me out. There wasn’t anything He could do for my parents.”

  “I apologise young Master Zanriath. You have my deepest sympathies.” Heldvik said with a thick voice expressing his honest regret.

  “Don’t be sorry my friend.” Zanriath said placing a hand on Heldvik’s broad shoulder. “It was a long time ago, and it had to happen. After the fire the house was completely destroyed a
nd I had nothing left…except the mountains, and the voice in my head. So I followed it, and into Inferno Range I went.”

  “How did you survive?” Ayva asked, clearly intrigued at how a child so young could possibly hope to live in such harsh conditions.

  “I was still very young, and, to be completely honest, that thought hadn’t even really occurred to me. For years Ormath’s voice guided me. He taught me to survive in the cold. I never thought so many animals would live up there, but they do. He helped me come to terms with the loss of my parents, and He taught me how to harness fire.”

  “Were you not lonely my boy?” Heldvik asked. “Surely all those years with no company would have driven you insane?”

  “I grieved my parents at first, but once that had passed, I still wasn’t alone. Ormath’s voice satisfied my desire for company. When I say that it sounds strange, but it’s difficult to explain what His voice is like. It was comforting and He became my friend. Days passed quickly, and years flew by in what felt like only weeks. I travelled a long way, as far north as I could go, to the northeast tip of Rilako, but then the voice urged me to go west.

  “I reached Dragon’s Peak, where it is said in folktale that Ormath resides. It’s the tallest peak in the Range. That was the first time I saw Ormath in physical form. His presence is really something; it opened my eyes to the importance of my task. The Gods are only permitted to appear in physical form in very specific circumstances.”

  “Aren’t there other sorcerers too?” Heldvik asked Zanriath. “What I mean is, won’t other people have seen Him too?”

  “A good question.” Zanriath replied. “Yes, there are others, but their abilities are ranging. None of them have the kind of power I’ve been given. He may have appeared before, but again, there would have been very good reason for Him doing so.” Isabel spoke up suddenly.

  “So if Ormath was told to prepare you, was Depozi told about the boy?”

  “I don’t know Isabel. It is possible I suppose. I doubt Depozi would have been coaxed into using the boy though. Ormath may have been instructed to prepare me as a result of Depozi making a pact with him?”

  “But you were training in the mountains long before the boy showed up.” Isabel countered. “Depozi released the demons from their realm, and they’ve been in Tamarack for years without this happening. They used to stay close to the Vale of Shadows in Land. The boy and Depozi must have made some sort of plan…” She explained.

  “True. But then, I don’t suppose time means an awful lot to you when you’re giving instructions to Gods.” Zanriath replied.

  “This is all getting a little complicated for me.” Heldvik confessed. Zanriath smiled to reassure his friend.

  “Don’t worry Heldvik. It’s not your job to worry about the depth of the problem, just to do your part in it.”

  “And that I shall do Master Zanriath.” He replied boldly holding his hand to his chest. “As long as there is a breath left in me, as will the rest of my men.”

  “I know they will.” Zanriath said still smiling. “That’s why I have every confidence in our chances today.”

  They continued talking as they marched and Zanriath told them of how he had learned to control his power in the mountains and how Ormath had guided him in his training. They all listened in trepidation and soon the story had spread throughout the entire troop. Those stories would surely circulate for years to come and would be wildly embellished, pending the outcome of the day’s battle of course.

  It was past noon and the day was warm, though a temporary passing of cloud provided a little relief for those in full armour.

  Though most were deep in conversation, everyone kept a wary eye on their route ahead, even with their scouts riding regularly back and reporting the all clear they were all still nervous, and growing more and more so by the hour.

  “Still nothing father.” Garan said as he pulled his horse in next to Heldvik and the others. “One of the scouts on the left flank picked up a few more volunteers but that’s about it.”

  “Good, but this waiting is making people nervous. What do you think Isabel?” He asked turning to her. “Isabel?” But he received no reply. Her eyes were glazed over and her head was raised to the sky. Zanriath spoke in her turn, returning Heldvik and Garan’s worried looks.

  “I don’t think they’ll be waiting much longer.” He said quite ominously. Heldvik cursed and looked back to Isabel. She blinked slowly and lowered her head, her eyes clearing and her sight returning. Sighing deeply she looked to Heldvik and Garan and spoke quietly, but with obvious command over the situation.

  “Prepare the men.”

  23

  “Garan. Call the scouts back in, we need the horses.” Garan was gone almost before his father had finished his sentence. He turned to the men at his left. “Get me my generals! Now!” He barked in a rough voice very different to his normal tone. “HALT!” His command echoed across the open plains and the Southern Armouries came to a dusty stop. As the cloud of dirt settled behind them a new wave of tension rippled through the crowd.

  Five generals arrived at Heldvik’s side in seconds and he issued his orders quickly and sharply. “Riders up front, some of the demons are faster - our first in won’t stand a chance on foot. Footmen next, I don’t care if they’ve got swords or battleaxes; they’re to charge in after the riders so they’re not overwhelmed when the slower demons catch up. Archers behind, I want their volleys on the slower and bigger demons as our riders go in. They’ll be greater in number and more tightly packed so we’ll do more damage. A small group on each flank to stop any kind of flanking attack they’ve got in mind.”

  The Master Smith’s orders were precise and clear; a well-shortened version of the run down Isabel had given him and his generals the day before. They all knew the plan, but a reminder never hurts. She had managed to sense not only how many demons there were in the boy’s horde, but also their size and strength, allowing her and Heldvik to formulate the best plan possible.

  “Yes sir!” The generals responded in unison before returning to their positions. With surprising haste the troops changed formation and lined up across the Great Road, extending across it on either side, making their small army seem as large as possible and hopefully giving them the advantage of intimidation. Isabel turned to Ayva and the twins.

  “Get the horses. We’ll never make it out if you get caught up in the fight. Keep them behind the men. Zan and I will be there as soon as Heldvik has the situation in hand.” They didn’t argue. Isabel’s tone carried a note of absolute finality. They made their way back through the men and led the horses to a small copse, tethering them and watching helplessly as the rippling black smudge oozed from the horizon, drawing closer with every uneasy breath.

  “Heldvik.” Isabel said calmly, turning to her brave new friend. Zanriath once again placed a hand on his shoulder, wrapping his other arm round Isabel’s waist.

  “It’s been an absolute pleasure my friend.” Zanriath’s kind words were matched only by Isabel’s grateful smile.

  “Thank you for everything.” She said. “What you’re doing is both brave and honourable. We won’t let it be forgotten.” The old man facing them now didn’t belong at war, but he had been caught up in this just as they had, and was more than willing to play his part.

  “We shall hold them off for as long as we can my friends.” He said, a small tear coming to his eye, willing them swift success with every morsel of his strength. “There is much more to you two than I first thought. I wish you the very best on your journey. May the Gods be with you.”

  “Thank you.” Isabel replied. He smiled in return before adding a final comment.

  “And give Depozi a piece of your mind for me.” They all laughed, surprisingly caught by easy humour within the seriousness of their situation. With that Heldvik embraced them both briefly, wiped his eyes and turned to face his men. Zanriath and Isabel made their way through the crowd and took up position behind the archers.

  Fr
om as far back as they stood they couldn’t hear Heldvik’s voice but they could see him addressing his troops animatedly. Isabel smiled as she envisaged him giving them the pep talk of their lives, using language so crude to describe their enemy that she dared not even imagine his words, all trace of his emotional ties to the situation vanishing. He had a kind heart, but she knew he could be blunt and brutal when the need arose.

  The demonic horde drew closer now. The Southern Armouries stood tense as they began to pick out individual beasts among the black mass approaching them. Horrific creatures, some two-legged, some four, and some even more, from the small and quick with teeth as sharp as daggers, to enormous lumbering beasts with tree trunks for legs.

  The sight made Isabel a little weak at the knees but she stood steadfast. They numbered in the hundreds, but not quite as greatly as her army. Nevertheless, each and every man and woman felt the same chill running down their spines as the beasts from another realm approached, their only thoughts being bent on the destruction of the pathetic humans that stood before them.

  “Have we done the right thing here Zan?” Isabel asked quietly, her voice almost a whisper. The spectacle was surprisingly hushed and this wasn’t the first time she’d looked to the young man for reassurance. The approaching monstrosities made no noise and the men stood steadfast, gripped by a combination of fear, anxiety and eagerness. They were ready.

  “Yes Isabel. You’ve brought us this far. We’ll make it.”

  “We’ve brought us this far.” She corrected looking across to him. He flashed a smile in agreement. Their hands found each other and they looked ahead to the horror approaching them. Soon Heldvik would initiate the charge and the battle would begin; the fight was in his hands now.

  Isabel cast out a glance over the battlefield looking for the boy. The demons were close enough now for Isabel to make out even the smallest of them, but she could not see the boy leading them. A heavy thudding at the back of her mind confirmed her suspicions. He was keeping himself behind his army, waiting for a chance to get to her. A strange calmness came over her and she let him find her. She was in control, for now.