Green Rising

by AZ Kelvin

  ~~~

  Ticari and his sister lay hidden in the bushes behind one of the dreyg fighters around Quinlan.

  “Ticca, beddie-bye,” Ticari whispered.

  “Right,” she replied and rummaged through her stuff.

  Ticari threw seeds at the man’s feet and worked the tievine spell, “Sro man uut nataz.”

  The seeds sprouted instantly, growing into strong vines that ensnared the dreyg’s feet.

  “What trickery is this?” the mercenary said in surprise. He looked around and caught sight of Ticca and Ticari. The man slashed through the tievines with his sword and freed a foot.

  “Ticca, hurry!”

  “Found it!” Ticca took a dried fungus ball from her pouch and whispered “Shushana,” over it.

  The dreyg grimaced at them as he yanked his other foot free. Ticca threw the puffball hard and landed it square in the man’s face. The dreyg inhaled the spores, coughed twice, and fell face-first to the ground in a deep sleep.

  “Well thrown, sis! Come on.”

  ~~~

  Chyne disguised herself as a bush and stood still as one of the dreyg fighters passed close by. She brushed his shoulder with a branch leaving a tiny vine behind. When Chyne focused her spirit on the little vine, it began to sprout rapidly.

  The dreyg went to tear the nuisance from his body, but the ivy quickly latched onto his arm as well. The ivy wrapped up and around his torso and began to cover his face. Tiny vines quickly crept up his nostrils, down the inside of his nose, and back out through his mouth. He began to choke and gag as he tried to pull the plants from his nose and mouth, but the ivy continued to ensnare his hands and arms. The dreyg let out a muffled and panicked scream before he ran off in haste.

  Chyne knew the vines would recede after a time. Giggling, she went to help the others.

  ~~~

  Therin gathered handfuls of red berries growing nearby. “Dun vas mah sikla,” he said to the berries causing them to rot and smell badly.

  “Flit, come here, love,” Sovia said. She reached out to the élan with her spirit.

  Flit chirped three times and flew to Therin’s shoulder landing next to Singer where she let out a long string of chittering. Dozens of élan and other birds flew in and circled Therin. Each bird dropped in to grab a berry and take off again. The flock flew toward the dreyg and circled around Quinlan. The feathered dive-bombers dropped their load over two of the dreyg fighters.

  The men were momentarily distracted by the unexpected appearance of berries from the sky and their horrible odor, but they were dreyg mercenaries and smells could be disregarded. The mercenaries ignored the smell, but not the hard-biting flies of the river lands that found the smell most attractive. Only a few flies buzzed around the men at first and then they were everywhere, crawling into their eyes, mouth, and ears, biting everything. Two swords hit the ground as their owners ran for the river.

  ~~~

  Wylla and Freyn stood close together. Freyn wove invisible runes in the air. She stopped with her hands up, her palms out toward Wylla. Glowing strands of energy flowed between them. Wylla gathered the energy in a cloud swirling over her head and shoulders.

  “Swarl en mar!” she called out.

  A low buzzing noise grew louder as thousands of bees, wasps, and hornets converged around Wylla and set off after the last remaining dreyg fighter.

  The man froze when we saw a swarm of bees heading his way. He looked around for help and seeing that it was not there, he turned and ran. Yelps of pain could be heard from a growing distance as the bees escorted him from the area.

  ~~~

  Quinlan picked Askue up from the ground making sure the dreyg with the lump on his head was still unconscious.

  “Gratitude, Seven—and Wylla and Freyn,” he said to the group. “Well done, one and all.”

  “I like the bees, nice touch,” Cassae said to Wylla and Freyn. “I can only call a dozen or so on a good day.”

  “I could nae call a one afore I teamed up with Freyn,” Wylla replied. “Now, any zinger with a stinger answers ma call.”

  “Dreyg fighters and a disciple, here in Raskan,” Kian said. “Why dinnae the Tretjey warn us? Surely he must somehow be aware there’s an overlord of Acimasiz within a fortnight’s ride of the conclave, right under our very noses.”

  “Should we return to the conclave?” Ticari asked.

  “No, we’ll send word by élan and continue on to Cammachmoor and Drifting Leaf as planned,” Quinlan said. Kian’s comment stuck in Quinlan’s mind. How could such a powerful adversary be so close and the druid council not know it?

  “More dreyg’ll come fer these men,” Kian said. “We must be a ways down the trail when they return.”

  “What about Wilam? We cannae just leave him,” Swela said.

  “Bringeth the body of Wilam hence,” Chyne said, moving to a spot near a large bush.

  Kian and Quinlan picked Wilam up, careful not to spill anything from the man. They laid him out where Chyne had indicated.

  Chyne wove a design in with air over his body. Grass and small plants encased Wilam and several hooked-thorn briar bushes grew up around it.

  “Thy rest shant be disturbed,” she said when she was done.

  “What of the dreyg?” Ticari asked.

  “Leave them to free themselves,” Kian answered.

  “Agreed, better than they deserve,” Quinlan said. “Mount up, Grove Seven. We ride for Cammachmoor.”

  *~*~*

  Chapter Twelve

  A man stood behind a podium in the audience chamber of castle Torr Amhairc in the city of Cammachmoor. The large group before him consisted of his friends and fellow citizens. He was an elderly man and slight of stature. The horseshoe of hair remaining on his head was white as snow. A wooden casket carved with a forest scene was close behind him. One lid panel was still propped open.

  “Forty-two times the wheel of seasons has spun since I first met Eldret,” Kenri said. His eyes shone with emotion and rimmed with tears. “My heart was his from the moment I saw him. We were young men in the Order of Arden and the world was under our feet. The happiest day in my life was the day he became my husband, and the saddest day was the day”—Kenri stopped to maintain his composure—“was the day I watched him take his last breath.”

  Kenri looked down and tears ran from his eyes. A man with dark brown hair and beard and clad in the traditional leather and furs of the Raskanish King approached the podium. He embraced the old druid briefly before wiping his own eye and returning to his seat.

  “Eldret brightened the lives of all those around him and he touched so many. He would be pleased that you are all here. A gathering of remembrance will be held in the courtyard. Gratitude for coming.”

  Kenri took some time at Eldret’s side and walked down the center aisle, taking his place at the door. The first rows emptied and the rest of the people rose to pay their respects to both Eldret in the casket and to Kenri on the way out.

  Kenri saw a guardsman go to the king about an hour or so after the gathering had started. After a brief discussion, the king’s minister, Modgrin Macreeth, walked over to Kenri.

  Kenri smiled at the man as he approached. “Mod, what puzzles thee?”

  ’Tis not my puzzle, Tretjey Kenri, ’tis yers. A group of yer brethren are here and askin’ ta speak with ye.”

  “Former Tretjey, Modgrin, former Tretjey,” Kenri replied. “Now I am only a simple and solitary druid.”

  “In a pig’s eye.”

  Their eyes met and they both laughed.

  “Very well, Minister Macreeth, let us go see what is afoot.”

  ~~~

  Grove Seven and company waited on a covered balcony overlooking the city of Cammachmoor. Quinlan admired the bright flags of Torr Amhairc as they fluttered in the afternoon breeze. King Renalth, Modgrin Macreeth, and Kenri joined them not long after they arrived. All there rose to their feet.

  Kian, Swela, Wylla, and Freyn placed their hands over their he
arts and bowed their heads. “My King,” they said.

  “Ah, ma Raskan druids.” Renalth grinned widely. “Does ma heart proud ta see my folk in the service of the Order.” He turned to the others. “Greetin’s ta ye all.”

  “Nin shi sha talla wathi,” Kenri said to Chyne in Gwylari.

  Chyne smiled and hugged Kenri. “Fensi nah sequa, Kenri.”

  “Always wonderful to see one of the Gwylari,” Kenri said. “Shin Lahqui, Quinlan.”

  This took Quinlan by surprise. “Shin Lahqui—apologies, have we met?”

  “No, I am Kenri.”

  “How do you—”

  “Askue told me,” Kenri said and stopped short. He turned and walked toward Freyn. He put his hand to her face. “Two conduits? Fascinating.”

  “I’m Freyn, Master Kenri.”

  “I am master of nothing, child,” he said and sat, quietly thoughtful for a moment before he looked at Wylla. “And you are her catalyst. Wylla is it?”

  “Aye. The Wardens sent us.”

  “Indeed. Eldret and I have been waiting, but Eldret had elsewhere to be.”

  “We heard when we arrived. You have our sympathies for your loss, Kenri,” Quinlan said.

  “Most kind.” Kenri’s hand went to a ring on a chain around his neck and the mist of memory clouded his eyes. “Well, Eldret could not wait, and neither can we. There is much to do if we are going to save Drifting Leaf and the rest of our world from the clutches of Acimasiz.”

  “You know of the trouble in Drifting Leaf?” Quinlan asked. “Have you been in contact with the Order?”

  “Not exactly,” he answered cryptically and looked at Cassae and Therin, the only Shaanlanders there. “The lands of your home are in terrible danger. The overlords—they call themselves disciples as if a word can hide their hideousness—they poison the hunting grounds and watersheds of Arden hoping to weaken the essence of Na’veyja enough to break Acimasiz from his oaken prison. The deep woods have been cut and burned from one end of Shaan to the other by that demon, Lord Praven. The ruining of Drifting Leaf Watershed would be a devastating blow to the Shaan eco-structure and it is only one of several areas under attack across Arden.”

  “The Cealjin Delta?” Quinlan asked.

  “Yes, the Order foiled their plans in the Cealjin years ago, but they have returned.” Kenri walked to an illustrated map of Arden painted on the balcony’s inner wall. He dragged a finger from the Cealjin Delta in Vakere to the east, along the southern coast of Arden to Shaan, then up the west coast to the border of Raskan territory. “The dreyg have infiltrated the entire coastline. Once they have poisoned or clear-cut all of this area, they will begin to push inland until they reach the gates of the conclave itself. Stopping them at that point would be impossible, so we must stop them now.”

  “Brother Quinlan,” Ticari said. Quinlan looked his way. “The man we found.”

  “Yes, thank you, Ticari.” Quinlan told the king, the minister, and the druid about the events at the Wildron River.

  King Renalth turned to one of the guardsmen. “Find General Gilburl and Captains Callan and MacRory and have them report ta me here at once.”

  “Aye, Sire.”

  “I thought as much when we got nae word from them,” Modgrin said. “Gratitude fer seein’ ta Wilam, ’twas a kindness.”

  “So, dreyg’ve taken Glen Arwe and probably all of Grannagh Province with it. First the Tenneths turned against us and now the Grannagh. The Bothains are the only house left. If they turn against us we’ll have enemies on all sides.” King Renalth leaned on the balcony rail and looked out over his city. “I’ll remember this day—peaceful and quiet in the times to come.”

  The guard returned with the people requested. One was a man dressed in midweight armor that he wore as easily as if it were made of linen. A younger man was with him dressed in somber finery for Eldret’s service and also a woman in similar attire yet quite a step up in quality over the younger man’s. Quinlan and Modgrin made the introductions for their respective sides. The group informed the newcomers of what had transpired in the gorge.

  “General Gilburl, I want ye ta close up the city, set watches in the towers, and begin regular patrols of the surroundin’ woods. Post troops at the gates and muster the militia. Bolster and supply all the border outposts and prepare fer war.”

  “Aye, Sire, I’ll have Cammachmoor secure by sundown,” he replied. “I’ll send dispatches out ta the commanders and quartermasters. Our forces will be on the way by midday on the morrow.”

  “Grand.” Renalth turned to the younger man. “Captain Callan, get yer agents afield. I want ta know the second any troops threaten our borders.”

  “Aye, Sire,” Saith Callen answered, a bit distracted at first but then focused on Renalth. “I’ll send them out at once.”

  “Ma condolences ta ye and yer kin fer the loss of yer brother, Captain,” Renalth said to him.

  “Gratitude, Sire. Wilam knew the risks when he signed on.”

  “I’ll see that the annals show he gave his life in service ta the city,” Renalth said. “Captain MacRory, have yer people watch fer any sizable forces musterin’ and marchin’ toward Raskan.”

  “I’ll send word immediately, Sire,” she answered.

  Kenri said to Renalth, “Sire, with your leave, I would like the blending pair, Wylla and Freyn, to join Grove Seven’s quest to heal Drifting Leaf Watershed—and that they take the artifact with them.”

  “The artifact? What’s in yer head, druid?” Renalth asked.

  “I believe I understand the artifact’s purpose now, Sire. I believe it must be buried in the heart of the watershed to neutralize the poison. The runes show two pairs of figures connected by some power to the artifact under the mionad esbat, which means the middle full moon of green rising. I believe the figures are Wylla and Freyn and Quinlan and Askue.”

  “Pardon me, druid Kenri, green risin’?” Ronirah MacRory asked.

  “Yes, the Gwylari wheel of seasons consists of the Cetria of White Fall, the Cetria of Green Rising, the Cetria of Na’veyja’s Bounty, and the Cetria of Forest Glow.”

  “So, their green risin’ is equal ta our sprin’?” Saith asked.

  “Roughly speaking, Captain.” Kenri worked out something in the air. “The mionad esbat will occur two weeks and one day from now.”

  “Kenri, are ye sure about this?” Renalth asked. “Give them the artifact without an escort?”

  “A grove of druids in the woods is far less conspicuous than a host of troops anywhere, Sire.”

  “Ye’re sure?”

  “The artifact and two blending pairs, here, and at almost the exact right time,” Kenri said. “Yes, it was meant to be.”

  “I must confess bewilderment, Kenri,” Quinlan said, “You know our names and mission, yet it seems you speak of others. I have no knowledge of any artifact necessary to our goal, nor was it our intent to seek you out or even to travel to Cammachmoor. I must send word to Tretjey Sayon at the Northern West Conclave.”

  “Sire, may I speak with my brethren privately?” Kenri asked.

  “Certainly. We’ve our work cut out fer us preparin’ the defense of the province,” Renalth answered. “Inform me when ye’ve reached a decision. We’ll let the gatherin’ continue.”

  “Gratitude, Sire.” Kenri waited until only the druids were left. He gestured to the table and chairs in the middle of the balcony.

  “In the early days of the Order,” Kenri said, “druids and Gwylari were everywhere across Arden. Old tales tell that the flaura was widespread and bright, like a blanket of glowing gossamer over the land. Over time, the druids began to focus only on the Great Marsh, the Seyna, and Fairtheora, which was their duty, yes, but not their only one. When their focus narrowed, other places were left untended. Now, the flaura only glows in the deep woods and the forces of Acimasiz work tirelessly to hew the deep woods and extinguish every last glimmer of flaura. Tell me, what good will the Order and its grand conclave be if the rest of A
rden lies dead around it?”

  “Yet we are here,” Therin said angrily. “Here ta tend Driftin’ Leaf and fight the forces of Acimasiz!”

  “Yes, and why?” Kenri replied calmly. “Why take a grove off rotation at the Great Marsh and send them all the way to the far side of the northern continent? There are druid outposts in Vakere that are much closer. Word is they’ve already sent two groves into Drifting Leaf. They have not yet returned. You’ve heard none of this?”

  “What’s this dung you be shoveling?” Sovia asked. “The council just up and sent us, Grove Seven, away—why?”

  “My guess is someone discovered something they shouldn’t have or perhaps asked too many questions someone else did not want answered.”

  Cassae looked over at Quinlan when Kenri mentioned the last part. Quinlan looked back.

  Kenri noticed. “Brother Quinlan, have you a tale to tell?”

  “None that include Drifting Leaf, but I have expressed concerns regarding the Seyna.”

  “Indulge me.”

  Quinlan cleared his throat and thought how to begin. “I have noted changes in and around the Seyna, in both plant growth and the vibrancy of the flaura. I’ve mended more than fivescore holes in the Seyna in my last off period.”

  “Quin!” Cassae looked at him in shock, which quickly changed to irritation.

  “Apologies, Cass, I intended to speak with you. I just…” he shrugged to finish.

  “What? Not enough time in the last two weeks as we rode across Arden?” she replied. “Fivescore holes? Ya should’a told us.”

  “Cass has the right of it, Quin,” Sovia said. “You need to be sharing with us matters of such importance.”

  “I was uncertain of my suspicions and my inquiries met with resistance,” Quinlan said. “I was assured the Seyna was in no danger and I did not want to spread unnecessary concern.”

  “Have these dead spots appeared before?” Kenri asked.

  “Only since this last white fall,” Quinlan answered. “I mended twelve dead spots a moon ago.”