Tarrin Kael Firestaff Collection Book 3 - Honor and Blood by Fel ©

by James Galloway (aka Fel)

  The Aldreth villagers with the Woodkin didn't disappoint their sylvan companions. All of the men were experienced hunters, and they set up with their bows near the road, setting up with a quiet efficiency that surprised the Centaurs that set up to either side of them to protect the fragile humans. Bows were strung and arrows checked, then they too settled in and waited for the signal.

  Tarrin found himself crouching in the brush right on the edge of the treeline with Thean on one side and a Were-bear on the other. Tarrin didn't know the Were-bear, but it plopped down beside him without so much as batting an eye, then smiled at him and nodded as it crouched down into the brush so its shaggy brown coat would blend into the shadows. Were-bears were pretty easy going creatures, mellow and laid back, and they didn't mind Were-cats all that much. They were one of the few Were-kin that didn't have a bad opinion of the Were-cats.

  "Now comes the waiting," Thean whispered. "You know humans, lad. When will they call for us?"

  "Whenever Arren thinks we're ready," he replied quietly. "If he said an hour, knowing Arren, it'll be exactly one hour after Ariana left with the message."

  "It's a shame we have to do things this way," the Were-bear said with a low rumble and obvious sadness in his voice. "Violence is so wasteful."

  "Sometimes you have to oppose the violent with violence," Tarrin told him quietly. "It's all they understand."

  "Truly," the Were-bear rumbled in assent.

  "Look there," Thean hissed, pointing out towards the village. A pair of Dal soldiers trotted down from the hill on horses, and they were moving towards the Aldreth road. They got to within about fifty spans of the treeline when one of them suddenly jerked backwards, then toppled out of the saddle. The other whirled his horse around, but then he too fell from the saddle and laid still on the road as the horses bolted back towards the village.

  "Why did they do that?" the Were-bear asked.

  "I think they were afraid the men would spot them," Tarrin replied. "It was probably a good idea."

  "How so?"

  "They didn't make any sound when they fell. It's going to take the Dals a few moments to realize their scouts were killed."

  The Were-bear looked about to say something, but they all heard a thin blast of a horn from a distance away. It blew again, and then a third time. That was the signal.

  "Not that it matters now," the Were-bear chuckled. "Let's get this unpleasant business overwith."

  "Well said," Tarrin said as a sudden roaring cry erupted from their side of the forest. The Centaurs charged out of their concealed positions with bows in hand, surrounding the villagers who did the same, but were quickly falling behind their four-legged compatriots. Tarrin was the first in their little pod to crash through the treeline and into open ground, but instead of rushing forward, he pulled up and reached out to the Weave. He found his connection with it and drew in the power of High Sorcery, feeling it flow into him. His paws limned over in Magelight as he collected up sufficient magic to perform the spell he intended, and raised his paws as he wove together a rather volatile weave of Fire, Air, and Divine energy, with token flows of the other Spheres to grant the weave the power of High Sorcery. He would need that boost in power to make the spell reach such a great distance. Had he been closer, High Sorcery wouldn't have been necessary, for the spell wasn't actually very powerful.

  A ball of pure fire appeared in his paw, replacing the Magelight, and Tarrin pushed his paw in the direction of the village in a throwing motion. The ball of fire streaked from his paw, leaving behind it a fiery trail of smoke and embers, but embers that did not ignite the grass or thatched roofs over which it travelled as it homed in on its target with magically induced accuracy. Tarrin controlled the ball of fire, and caused it to unerringly strike its target.

  The ball struck the roof of the new building of chinked logs, the Dal barracks, and it settled into the thatched roof of the building quickly. A nice little fire blossomed up from the thatch, which would allow anyone inside time to flee while managing to cause distraction and confusion among the Dals for a critical moment while the Rangers and the Woodkin closed the distance. Tarrin had considered just incinerating the building, but there may be innocent villagers inside it.

  That was the beginning of a short and decidedly one-sided battle. The Dals had been expecting trouble, but the fire in the barracks managed to confuse them for the critical moment that prevented them from organinzing to meet the two disparate forces attacking from the northwest and the east. The first men to draw blood were the villagers of Aldreth, pulling up short on Karn's order, setting up, then loosing a volley of arrows fired from their deadly Sulasian longbows, bows that had a range that outstripped any other bow made. All fifty six of the men firing those bows were expert shots, and a majority of them struck their targets, causing confused and shouting Dal soldiers to collapse to the ground more than two hundred spans away and uphill. That sudden confusion heralded a cascade of screams and shouts of panic as a large number of the hundred or so Dal soldiers pouring out of the burning building withered under a storm of arrows fired from the Rangers on the other side of the hill. The disorganized men dove for cover from the Aldreth arrows, only to find themselves standing open to the Rangers on the other side of the hill. One of their officers managed to gather up the men and take cover between two buildings, protected from the arrows, but they found themselves holding a desperate line against a large number of transformed Were-kin, creatures that simply charged through their upraised pikes, spears, swords, and shields and fell on the men, disrupting their defensive formation. Their weapons could do the Were-kin no harm, and that caused what organization that existed to shatter when a Were-fox killed the officer rallying the troops.

  It was over in about ten minutes. The Centaurs and Were-kin devastated their human adversaries, the Were-kin with their ferocity and their invulnerability to the human weapons, and the Centaurs with lightning-fast strikes at a full gallop. They charged around the village, up and down the hill, killing any Dal soldier they caught in the open as they scrambled to flee from their inhuman adversaries. Those men that did manage to flee down the hill away from the mass of Centaurs and Were-kin found themselves hurtling right into the teeth of the Sulasian Rangers, who had set their bows down, drawn their swords, and had vengeance burning in their eyes as they engaged the routed Dal troops. Tarrin didn't bother to rush to the attack, instead walking calmly towards the village and watching the fight, seeing Centaurs mowing down Dals, and to their credit, catching up the terrified villagers and galloping down the hill with them to get them out of harm's way. Tarrin started up the hill when all the Dals left in the village had either been killed or had thrown down their weapons and surrendered, when only the fight between the Rangers and the routed Dal forces still fighting continued. He reached the top of the hill just as the last of the Dals gave up, throwing down their weapons and surrendering to the tight lines of the Sulasian Rangers.

  It was an overwhelming victory, but it was not a victory that Tarrin savored. It was but a start to what had to be done, and the greater challenges stood in front of them. Tarrin put out the fire with Sorcery, snuffing it out as if it had never been, then looked down at the body of a Dal soldier who had been felled by an arrow. He felt nothing for the man. Absolutely nothing. In a way, that frightened him, and it frightened him badly. That was how he used to be, and he was afraid of ending up there again. But it was also what was necessary to protect Suld, to protect the Goddess, to protect his daughter. Looking down at that dead body, he realized that he would do absolutely anything, no matter how vile or evil or monstrous, to protect Jasana. Even if he had to be like Mist, he would protect his family.

  The world was not worth the life of that little girl.

  Tarrin stood at the top of the hill, at the center of Watch Hill, and watched with detached interest as the Sulasian Rangers rounded up the surviving prisoners, then met the lead Centaurs at the northwestern base of the hill. Now they would join, become a true army, a
nd they would go on to liberate Torrian.

  They could not be stopped.

  It was like a different world.

  Tarrin padded along a slight game trail, pushing a branch out of his face absently as he homed in on the sounds of voices. The voices of Jasana, Jesmind, and Kimmie. He had left the village and everyone behind as they began to clean up, not bothering to see Sathon or Mikos or any of the others. After all, he wasn't in command of anything, so there was no reason for him to talk to anyone or tell anyone where he was going. His daughter and mate and friend were more important than finding out how many men had been killed, how many casualties their forces had suffered, or hearing them tell everyone what to do next. That didn't concern him. Arren was there, and Arren was going to be commanding the army. That was all the reason he needed to be able to walk away from them with a clear conscious. Arren was a solid, dependable man, and Tarrin would trust his judgement.

  The forest was quiet. Eerily quiet. The fighting had scared away many of the animals, leaving the forest quiet and pristine in a way. The scents and sounds and sights of the human habitation were missing here out in the forest, a place where only children and solitary hunters dared to venture. It made things peaceful. Not a longspan behind him, civilization was cleaning up after a battle between two forces, but out here in the forest, it was as it had been days, months, years, centuries before. All quiet and peaceful, where the wheel of nature turned at its own pace and without interruption.

  It was the ideal place for his mate and daughter to hide from the ugliness of war, a good place for the gentle Kimmie to be rather than going against her nature and killing people. Strange to think that two worlds could exist so close to one another.

  Tarrin stepped into a very small meadow that was split in half by a small, straight stream. Jesmind was sitting at the bank with Jasana in her lap, as Kimmie laid at the bank with a paw holding steadily over the water. "The trick of it, cub, is to aim high," Kimmie told her, watching the water intently. "The water bends what you're seeing, so you have to aim high to hit the fish." Kimmie's paw plunged into the water, and then recoiled so fast that the water seemed to be ripped open. She had a small fish in her paw, clasped in her fingers.

  "I smell papa," Jasana said with sudden excitement, turning in Jesmind's lap. "Papa!" she cried out when she saw him step into the small meadow.

  Jesmind nodded to him as he stepped up to them, and Kimmie let the fish drop back into the water and stood up. "I take it it's over?" Jesmind asked.

  "What little it was," he replied. "The Dals never had a chance. I came to get you."

  "What's the matter, Tarrin?" Jesmind asked in a sober tone. "You seem, upset."

  "I guess I am, a little," he sighed, sitting down at the side of the stream with Jesmind. Kimmie sat down in front of him, and Jasana squirmed over onto his lap and started playing with the end of his tail. "I know we have to do this, but I really don't want to do it. I saw them fighting, and it didn't move me in any way. That scares me, Jesmind."

  "Why?"

  "Because that's how I used to feel," he told her. "I used to not feel anything except the fear. I worked very hard and went through alot to get back to where I am now, and I guess I'm afraid that having to fight in this war is going to put me right back where I was."

  "Then don't fight," Kimmie told him simply. "They have enough people for that. What's missing one Were-cat? They'll still have six."

  A small lick of fire appeared over his paw, created by the simplest of one-weave spells. "This is why, Kimmie," he sighed. "My magic could possibly turn a battle."

  "Listen to you," she laughed.

  "He's not joking, Kimmie," Jesmind said seriously. "Mother told me about him. He could burn Torrian to the ground, and nobody could stop him."

  "Killing people on that kind of a scale isn't something you take lightly," he sighed. He shivered slightly as the memory of doing just that crossed over his mind, a memory of thousands dying by his magic when he destroyed the arena at Dala Yar Arak. It was still a painful memory, and it always would be. To even consider that he may have another memory of that magnitude sharing space with it in his mind made him very, very nervous. Then he clenched his fist, smothering the small flame within it. "I know what I have to do, and that's that. I don't have much choice," he said in a strong voice. "If I have to fight, then I'll fight."

  "Then don't worry about what may come, my mate. Live in the moment," Jesmind said gently, putting her paw on his forearm. She slid her fingers down to his wrist, where the manacle would have been, then clasped his wrist in a gentle grip. "Right now is all that matters. And right now, you don't have to worry about that."

  He looked at her, then he couldn't help but smile gratefully. That did make him feel better. "Unfortunately, right now, we do have to go back," he sighed.

  "Do we?" Jesmind asked pointedly. "They can find us. I'm certain that when the time comes for us to leave, they'll send someone to come get us."

  He looked at her, then he chuckled. "You know, you have a point," he admitted. "They can just come get us, can't they?"

  "They can. I think a little time over here would be better for you than going back over there. Why don't you magic us up some lunch, and we'll have a nice quiet picnic?" she asked with a gentle smile.

  "Why Jesmind, I'm shocked that you'd allow me to cheat," he smiled.

  "You can't follow the rules all the time. It's not very fun," Jesmind winked.

  "I'll remember that the next time you ride me about conjuring around the house."

  "I'll have an entirely different opinion then," she grinned.

  "Fickle female."

  "Of course. If I were predictable, what fun would I be?" she challenged.

  Tarrin laughed helplessly, then carried out the task she had given him.

  He had to admit, she was right. A quiet meal with his mate, daughter, and a good family friend did do wonders for his mood. He found himself not thinking about fighting or war or death at all, concentrating instead on observing Jasana's fishing technique as she practiced after eating a meal of roasted beef and fresh bread. Jasana was too fidgety to be a good fisher, because she was too young to sit still and be patient. She did try, however, but her paws or head invariably began to move, and those movements spooked the fish. The first strike she did attempt missed, but it did manage to get her to drench herself with stream water as her paw slapped the water and caused a huge splash. She looked up at her parents with limp hair, dripping water, then blew a drop of water off the tip of her pert little nose. That made all three of the adults laugh.

  "You don't slap the water, cub," Kimmie said with a broad smile. "You have to send your paw in claws first."

  "I didn't see you do that."

  "You weren't watching me, then," Kimmie accused.

  Tarrin was about to say something, but a voice emanating from his amulet cut him short. "Tarrin? Are you there?" Keritanima called through the amulet.

  "What was that?" Kimmie asked curiously.

  "It's someone I know, using magic to contact me," he told her calmly as he took his amulet in his paw. "I'm here, Kerri. What is it?"

  "I need to talk to you," she said deliberately.

  "Alright. Give me a little bit."

  "I'll be waiting."

  "If she needs to talk to you, why didn't she?" Kimmie asked.

  "She wants to see me," he said, standing up and looking around. There was a very weak strand coming out of the ground right at the treeline. It would do. "It must be something important, because she wants to see me face to face."

  "And how do you do that?"

  "It's complicated, Kimmie," he said dismissively. "I'll explain after I'm done. Alright, cub, you stay out of this," he warned, pointing at his daughter. "It's hard enough to do it without having to worry about you getting lost trying to find me."

  "I don't like it when you do that, papa," she said fearfully. "It so dark and scary there."

  "I won't get lost, cub," he told her gently, kneeli
ng down and tapping her on the end of her nose. "I know my way around there. I just need you and your mother and Kimmie to protect my body while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?"

  "Now I'm getting curious," Kimmie said, standing up and swiping at dust on her breeches.

  "It's simple, Kimmie," he said, standing up and moving towards the strand. "I learned how to join my consciousness to the Weave, and I can use it to move through the Weave. I'll go see Kerri by sending my mind to see her. But when I do it, I'm not aware of what's going on around me, so I don't like doing it unless I'm in a place that's relatively safe, or I have someone to defend my body while I'm out."

  "Astral projection?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

  "Projection. That's a good word," Tarrin said. "I just project myself into the Weave, not into that Astral place."

  "I've never even read about this," Kimmie said in surprise. "I didn't know that Sorcerers could do that."

  "Most can't," he said mildly, sitting down so that the strand moved through his body. "Now do me a favor and hush."

  "Alright," she agreed as he closed his eyes and centered himself. It was something that was relatively easy for him to do, so it was a short time between relaxing and centering himself on the Weave, and actually managing to project his consciousness out into the strand.

  As always, the strand picked him up and swept him along in the current formed by the power flowing through it. He rode along that current, letting it sweep him into the another strand, then into a Conduit, then into a major Conduit, and then into the Heart. The Heart never failed to awe him, inspire him, humble him, as he stared into the brilliance of the Goddess and marvelled at her, as he floated within the void pierced by the stars of the Sorcerers and the distant lines of the strands of the Weave beyond them. Every time he came, it looked like there were more and more stars, as they began to actually compete with the darkness. But despite their numbers, it was no difficult task for him to assense them as a group, and identify the unique signature that belonged to his sister Keritanima. He went to her star and held his paws to each side of it, feeling its radiance bask him, revelling in the sense of her for that brief moment before using her star to locate her physical presence in relation to the Weave. She was literally but a breath from the Heart, as any physical location on the Tower grounds would be. He rose up into a Conduit and then circuited through the Weave, having to travel a deceptive distance to reach her physical location, since he had to do his travelling through the complex strands that did not follow a logical pattern to those in the physical realm. But that distance was but the blinking of an eye in the Weave, where he could move as fast as he wished to move. He reached her, felt her radiance through the strand, and knew she was there. He could also feel Allia's and Dolanna's presences near to his sister, and that made him even more happy to come see her. Tarrin wove together an Illusion of himself, an image, and then pushed it out into the physical world. Then he pressed himself into that projection.